On Fridays, we are able to wear jeans at school instead of the required shirt-and-tie combination. It's pretty liberating, in case you are wondering. It touches upon those days back in elementary school where you could "dress down" and everyone would come in wearing some cool outfit. For me, it was always my tie-dyed Looney Tunes or Flintstones gear. I looked awesome.
So- I have these jeans. With a large tear in them. In an unfortunate place. Now, I'm not cheap by any means (just ask about my TV on DVD collection) but purchasing clothes is not always on the top of my list. I like to cycle through the same seven or eight outfits until they go completely out of style. It's easier and cheaper that way.
BUT, I have been fully aware that I need to buy new jeans. I just haven't come around to it (thank you very much TV on DVD....).
This lead to an exchange I had with a student of mine recently. It was a Friday and I had a group of students on the carpet to discuss an objective in math class. One student came to the carpet a little earlier than the rest and we began to have a conversation.
We were having a pleasant conversation about who the hell knows, and I noticed this student's face contorted in a way. His eyes began to wander and I was compelled to ask, "What is wrong with you?"
He stammered for a second and then put his right hand up to his mouth and leaned in as if to tell me a secret. "OH! I love secrets!" I thought to myself.
"Mr. Vest....you have a rip in your jeans. And I can see your undergarments."
I look down and sure enough, I am totally showing. What's worse is that I have on a cute pair of underwear that isn't the most masculine piece of clothing I have. This caused the student to tell me yet another "secret."
Student: "Mr. Vest...you wear yellow undergarments? Those are bright."
Mr. Vest: (humiliated) "SIT DOWN, [student]!"
First of all..."undergarments?" Are we in "Petticoat Junction?" Secondly, shoot me in the face I was so embarrassed. Thank the lord he didn't skip back to his cadre of friends and tell them what the saw.
I spent the rest of the day with my legs crossed so firmly that I won't be suprised if a doctor will tell me I'm incapabale of having children. You know, whenever I get that checked out....
Monday, May 24, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Student Quote #21
For the past four months, I've sported either scruff or a short beard. Today, I came in freshly shaved....
Student: "Mr. Vest, you look different."
Mr. Vest: "I shaved."
Student: "I don't like it. Your face looks weird."
Mr. Vest: "Your face looks weird."
Student: "I don't think you can say that to a kid."
Mr. Vest: "I don't think you can say that to an adult."
Student: (beat) "Your face looks weird."
Later....
Another Student: "I like your face today."
Mr. Vest: "Really? I'm not digging it."
Another Student: "No, no. You should dig it. You look like a superhero."
Mr. Vest: "Which one?'
Another Student: "Well, little bit of Batman and little bit of Clark Kent."
Mr. Vest: "Oh? Why?"
Another Student: "One part tough, the other part smooth."
Mr. Vest: "I think you are my favorite student today."
Student: "Mr. Vest, you look different."
Mr. Vest: "I shaved."
Student: "I don't like it. Your face looks weird."
Mr. Vest: "Your face looks weird."
Student: "I don't think you can say that to a kid."
Mr. Vest: "I don't think you can say that to an adult."
Student: (beat) "Your face looks weird."
Later....
Another Student: "I like your face today."
Mr. Vest: "Really? I'm not digging it."
Another Student: "No, no. You should dig it. You look like a superhero."
Mr. Vest: "Which one?'
Another Student: "Well, little bit of Batman and little bit of Clark Kent."
Mr. Vest: "Oh? Why?"
Another Student: "One part tough, the other part smooth."
Mr. Vest: "I think you are my favorite student today."
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Upping the Ante
Because I was a fat kid, the only place I could be competitive was through academics. You are aware of this if you are a loyal reader to this here blog. I needed to be the best at all times, and if I could, I would throw anyone under the bus that would get in my way.
That is, if I could even lift anyone to throw them. I wasn't sporting guns on my biceps. They were more like water pistols. Empty water pistols.
One of the more memorable competitions was in 4th grade, the first year we were given letter grades instead of "Very good" (happy, happy) and "Satisfactory" (shameful, just shameful). Our teacher, Ms. O was really into maps. Her enthusiasm spilled into our classroom, as we were constantly learning about different countries. It was here that my appreciation for other cultures and societies began to grow.
After every Social Studies test, she offered us a bonus sheet that was a map of the world. For an extra bonus point each, you could label as many countries and capitals as possible. I didn't think much of it the first time, but I spent the greater part of the test labeling countries, rivers, and mountains. I labeled a fair amount and turned the exam in, thinking nothing of it.
The next day, Ms. O notified the class that she had graded the exams and was going to read out any one's scores that were above 100. Several students scored in the 105-110 region, while two others were between 115-120. The rest of the class "ooh"-ed and "aww"-ed at these high scores.
Then, she got to my score. "Mr. Vest....139."
The rest of the class gasped. I'm not even kidding you- they did. Me? I sat there like a smug bastard. Oh course I got a 139.
Ms. O then decided to write my score on the lop right hand corner of the chalk board. "I'm going to keep that score up there until someone beats it." There was a quiet murmur in the class.
With that simple gesture, Ms. O had created a monster. An insanely competitive, map-labeling monster.
Yeah, I was clearly extremely popular.
What I didn't expect was for anyone to challenge me. Oh, how I was wrong...because in walks LS.
LS was just as crazy as me in relation to grades. I was also head-over-heels in love with her. In the way only a 4th grader can be. Like...I would pretend we were dating and when I would see her talking to another boy, I'd get jealous with rage. So much so that I would be totally passive aggressive with her.
"Oh, fine. I mean sure you can use my pencil, but I'm going to need it back. Along with all of the lead. I may check. For serious."
I also used stuffed animals to practice making out just in case she would realize we were meant to be together. Sadly, this never ended up happening. But that teddy bear got a lot of action.
ANYWAY....
My "139" stayed up there from October to March, when LS beat me to the punch with a 152. She remained at the top of the board until May. I simply knew that I had to have that final score. I just had to and, if not, all of my life's dreams and aspirations would go up in smoke.
So, I studied. I memorized. I ate pizza. All of these were essential to my success. Especially the pizza.
The final exam came and for the life of me, I can't remember what the content of it was. All that was important to me (and LS) was the map. Ms. O knew we were battling and egged us on (as good teachers do), letting the class know a "clash of the map titans" was ahead of us. God, we were nerds.
See, recess always came directly after Social Studies- but there would be no swinging or hop-scotch today. Oh, no. Today, there would be country capitals and trying to correctly spell Kazakhstan. The end of the class was approaching and we begged Ms. O to let the both of us stay in to continue. She obliged, probably thinking we were freaks.
Throughout the process, we gave each other the look of death. "You are going dowwwwwwn," LS threatened me from across the room. "Marry me," is what was going on in my head.
The next day at school, tensions ran high as the results were going to be announced at the end of the day. I could barely contain my stress, going as far as begging Ms. O to give me a hint as to who scored the highest. "In due time, my scholar," she said. What a peach.
The time had arrived. Ms. O brought her grade book to her podium and sighed. She told us the time had come and the record had been not only broken, but shattered. A quiet murmur began in the classroom. She began reading scores, beginning with two students that scored a 172 and 175. Whatever. That was child's play, for I knew I was a hell of a lot higher than that.
After reading off the scores, she left off both LS and me. LS and I exchanged glances, hers with scorn, mine with scorn-disguised-as-eternal love. She began with mine.
"Mr. Vest scored a 214."
The crowd went ape shit. "YES! YES! I am a map machine!" bellowed through my mouth and into the classroom. The cheering lasted a good half-minute, Ms. O allowing it because I was the king of the castle. LS put her head down, unsure of what to make of the moment. I felt sadness for her, as all of her hard work to beat me did not pay off in the end. It was okay, though, because we would be married soon and have a dog named Henry.
But, on no...Ms. O was not done. She put her hand up to calm the class down. "We have one more score."
Shit.
LS perked her head up and brightened immediately.
"LS scored 221."
Double-shit. I had lost. By a measly seven points. She managed to find seven more countries than me and I was devastated. The king was kicked out of the castle as fast as he had arrived. LS beamed and, while I was upset I was not the winner, it did make me happy to see LS excited and proud. Young love.
Ms. O notified the both of us that, because of the sheer ridiculousness of our score, she would keep both of them on the board until they were beaten.
For the rest of our time at our grade school, no one beat that score. To my knowledge, no one had ever beaten it until I left high school for college. I suppose I could take this one of two ways. On one hand, it's been absurd that anyone anywhere would get a test score of that magnitude. On the other hand, it's kind of awesome that a teacher would allow it to happen.
I'm not really sure what LS is up to these days, but I hope she's thought about this moment once or twice. It's kind of rare that one would get in a battle of wits over who would have the highest score in the 4th grade. But, that's just who we were. Or are, for that matter.
That is, if I could even lift anyone to throw them. I wasn't sporting guns on my biceps. They were more like water pistols. Empty water pistols.
One of the more memorable competitions was in 4th grade, the first year we were given letter grades instead of "Very good" (happy, happy) and "Satisfactory" (shameful, just shameful). Our teacher, Ms. O was really into maps. Her enthusiasm spilled into our classroom, as we were constantly learning about different countries. It was here that my appreciation for other cultures and societies began to grow.
After every Social Studies test, she offered us a bonus sheet that was a map of the world. For an extra bonus point each, you could label as many countries and capitals as possible. I didn't think much of it the first time, but I spent the greater part of the test labeling countries, rivers, and mountains. I labeled a fair amount and turned the exam in, thinking nothing of it.
The next day, Ms. O notified the class that she had graded the exams and was going to read out any one's scores that were above 100. Several students scored in the 105-110 region, while two others were between 115-120. The rest of the class "ooh"-ed and "aww"-ed at these high scores.
Then, she got to my score. "Mr. Vest....139."
The rest of the class gasped. I'm not even kidding you- they did. Me? I sat there like a smug bastard. Oh course I got a 139.
Ms. O then decided to write my score on the lop right hand corner of the chalk board. "I'm going to keep that score up there until someone beats it." There was a quiet murmur in the class.
With that simple gesture, Ms. O had created a monster. An insanely competitive, map-labeling monster.
Yeah, I was clearly extremely popular.
What I didn't expect was for anyone to challenge me. Oh, how I was wrong...because in walks LS.
LS was just as crazy as me in relation to grades. I was also head-over-heels in love with her. In the way only a 4th grader can be. Like...I would pretend we were dating and when I would see her talking to another boy, I'd get jealous with rage. So much so that I would be totally passive aggressive with her.
"Oh, fine. I mean sure you can use my pencil, but I'm going to need it back. Along with all of the lead. I may check. For serious."
I also used stuffed animals to practice making out just in case she would realize we were meant to be together. Sadly, this never ended up happening. But that teddy bear got a lot of action.
ANYWAY....
My "139" stayed up there from October to March, when LS beat me to the punch with a 152. She remained at the top of the board until May. I simply knew that I had to have that final score. I just had to and, if not, all of my life's dreams and aspirations would go up in smoke.
So, I studied. I memorized. I ate pizza. All of these were essential to my success. Especially the pizza.
The final exam came and for the life of me, I can't remember what the content of it was. All that was important to me (and LS) was the map. Ms. O knew we were battling and egged us on (as good teachers do), letting the class know a "clash of the map titans" was ahead of us. God, we were nerds.
See, recess always came directly after Social Studies- but there would be no swinging or hop-scotch today. Oh, no. Today, there would be country capitals and trying to correctly spell Kazakhstan. The end of the class was approaching and we begged Ms. O to let the both of us stay in to continue. She obliged, probably thinking we were freaks.
Throughout the process, we gave each other the look of death. "You are going dowwwwwwn," LS threatened me from across the room. "Marry me," is what was going on in my head.
The next day at school, tensions ran high as the results were going to be announced at the end of the day. I could barely contain my stress, going as far as begging Ms. O to give me a hint as to who scored the highest. "In due time, my scholar," she said. What a peach.
The time had arrived. Ms. O brought her grade book to her podium and sighed. She told us the time had come and the record had been not only broken, but shattered. A quiet murmur began in the classroom. She began reading scores, beginning with two students that scored a 172 and 175. Whatever. That was child's play, for I knew I was a hell of a lot higher than that.
After reading off the scores, she left off both LS and me. LS and I exchanged glances, hers with scorn, mine with scorn-disguised-as-eternal love. She began with mine.
"Mr. Vest scored a 214."
The crowd went ape shit. "YES! YES! I am a map machine!" bellowed through my mouth and into the classroom. The cheering lasted a good half-minute, Ms. O allowing it because I was the king of the castle. LS put her head down, unsure of what to make of the moment. I felt sadness for her, as all of her hard work to beat me did not pay off in the end. It was okay, though, because we would be married soon and have a dog named Henry.
But, on no...Ms. O was not done. She put her hand up to calm the class down. "We have one more score."
Shit.
LS perked her head up and brightened immediately.
"LS scored 221."
Double-shit. I had lost. By a measly seven points. She managed to find seven more countries than me and I was devastated. The king was kicked out of the castle as fast as he had arrived. LS beamed and, while I was upset I was not the winner, it did make me happy to see LS excited and proud. Young love.
Ms. O notified the both of us that, because of the sheer ridiculousness of our score, she would keep both of them on the board until they were beaten.
For the rest of our time at our grade school, no one beat that score. To my knowledge, no one had ever beaten it until I left high school for college. I suppose I could take this one of two ways. On one hand, it's been absurd that anyone anywhere would get a test score of that magnitude. On the other hand, it's kind of awesome that a teacher would allow it to happen.
I'm not really sure what LS is up to these days, but I hope she's thought about this moment once or twice. It's kind of rare that one would get in a battle of wits over who would have the highest score in the 4th grade. But, that's just who we were. Or are, for that matter.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Student Quote #20
Student: "Mr. Vest, are you going to bite your fingernails?"
Mr. Vest: "No."
Student: "Can I bite them for you?"
Mr. Vest: "Heavens, no."
Student: "You're a busy man. Give me your hand. My teeth are sharp."
Mr. Vest: "I'm really uncomfortable right now."
Mr. Vest: "No."
Student: "Can I bite them for you?"
Mr. Vest: "Heavens, no."
Student: "You're a busy man. Give me your hand. My teeth are sharp."
Mr. Vest: "I'm really uncomfortable right now."
Friday, May 7, 2010
Make a Wish
Remember Little J? He was that klepto kid from "Trinkets."
Little J has a semi-obsession with being viewed as "the weird kid." I truly think he goes out of his way to make people look him square in the eye and tell him, "You are making me feel really awkward right now." Like, calling me his "daddy" awkward.
His response to that tends to be a wry smile, a shrug of the shoulders and a "that's your viewpoint." He also enunciates way too well for a ten year old.
Anywho- cut to a few days ago he approaches me with a query.
J: "Uh, Mr. Vest? Can I call you my daddy?"
Mr. Vest: "No, for the ninth time this week you can not call me daddy."
J: "Mother?"
Mr. Vest: "That's even worse. No, do not refer to me as your mother."
J: "Can I give you any nickname?"
Mr. Vest: "That depends on it it is flattering or not."
J: "Jimmy Kimmel?"
Mr. Vest: "Absolutely not."
J: "My fairy godmother."
Mr. Vest: "Are you joking?"
Random Kid: "Yeah, he aint no fairy."
(awkward silence from me)
J: "Fine then, how about fairy godfather?"
Mr. Vest: "I'm thinking we should just drop the whole 'fairy' thing."
This makes Little J return to his seat and put on his thinking cap. Clearly, his little brain is working hard and after a few minutes he returns to me. He agrees that he shouldn't refer to me by any of those names, but asks if he can call my co-worker, let's call her Ms. Awesome, his 'own personal fairy godmother.' Knowing that Ms. Awesome and I talk about this kid constantly (and that he office is right near my classroom), I agree.
Mr. Vest: "In fact, go tell her right now."
J: "Righty-o Major Dad."
I ignore this nickname (and the fact that he has referenced a defunct late 80s/early 90s comedy series) and return to the rest of my, not-as-awkward children.
After a few minutes, Little J returns and Ms. Awesome walks by my classroom with a look of amusement/uncomfortableness. Later, she recounts their conversation:
J: "Ms. Awesome, Mr. Vest told me that I could call you my fairy godmother."
Ms. A: "Well, how nice. Of course I will be your fairy godmother."
J: "And now that you are my fairy godmother, I have a wish that I wish you to grant."
Ms. A: "Ok, ask away."
J: "May I sniff your shoe?"
(beat)
Ms. A: "I'm going to need you to leave my office now."
Kids are weird.
Little J has a semi-obsession with being viewed as "the weird kid." I truly think he goes out of his way to make people look him square in the eye and tell him, "You are making me feel really awkward right now." Like, calling me his "daddy" awkward.
His response to that tends to be a wry smile, a shrug of the shoulders and a "that's your viewpoint." He also enunciates way too well for a ten year old.
Anywho- cut to a few days ago he approaches me with a query.
J: "Uh, Mr. Vest? Can I call you my daddy?"
Mr. Vest: "No, for the ninth time this week you can not call me daddy."
J: "Mother?"
Mr. Vest: "That's even worse. No, do not refer to me as your mother."
J: "Can I give you any nickname?"
Mr. Vest: "That depends on it it is flattering or not."
J: "Jimmy Kimmel?"
Mr. Vest: "Absolutely not."
J: "My fairy godmother."
Mr. Vest: "Are you joking?"
Random Kid: "Yeah, he aint no fairy."
(awkward silence from me)
J: "Fine then, how about fairy godfather?"
Mr. Vest: "I'm thinking we should just drop the whole 'fairy' thing."
This makes Little J return to his seat and put on his thinking cap. Clearly, his little brain is working hard and after a few minutes he returns to me. He agrees that he shouldn't refer to me by any of those names, but asks if he can call my co-worker, let's call her Ms. Awesome, his 'own personal fairy godmother.' Knowing that Ms. Awesome and I talk about this kid constantly (and that he office is right near my classroom), I agree.
Mr. Vest: "In fact, go tell her right now."
J: "Righty-o Major Dad."
I ignore this nickname (and the fact that he has referenced a defunct late 80s/early 90s comedy series) and return to the rest of my, not-as-awkward children.
After a few minutes, Little J returns and Ms. Awesome walks by my classroom with a look of amusement/uncomfortableness. Later, she recounts their conversation:
J: "Ms. Awesome, Mr. Vest told me that I could call you my fairy godmother."
Ms. A: "Well, how nice. Of course I will be your fairy godmother."
J: "And now that you are my fairy godmother, I have a wish that I wish you to grant."
Ms. A: "Ok, ask away."
J: "May I sniff your shoe?"
(beat)
Ms. A: "I'm going to need you to leave my office now."
Kids are weird.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Why, THANK you!
Mr. Vest: "No one here is complimenting me on my fine attire today."
(for the record, I have a white and black-striped, fitted Ben Sherman shirt on and some ultra cute pants. Plus, the hair is not looking bad.)
Male student 1: "Mr. Vest, you look so buff and handsome!"
Male student 2: "And that facial hair? Very feng shui!"
(for the record, I have a white and black-striped, fitted Ben Sherman shirt on and some ultra cute pants. Plus, the hair is not looking bad.)
Male student 1: "Mr. Vest, you look so buff and handsome!"
Male student 2: "And that facial hair? Very feng shui!"
The "Ohhhhhhh!" Factor
You know that moment.
When people are trading barbs and someone says something so off color and unexpected that it makes the crowd go, "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." Yeah, I've been on the negative end of that a few times. It's an incredible moment for the other person. They just schooled you, if you will.
This "Oh" factor tends to go by the wayside as you get older. Back in the day, I had a lot of "Oh" moments when people (re: assholes) schooled me on my weight.
Corpulent Mr. Vest: "Got read a book!"
Asshole: "Yeah? Well, go eat everything, piggy."
Crowd of A'holes: "OHHHHHHH!"
Nowadays, it's not really something you encounter. Maybe on the subway. But it's kind of gauche to try to get somebody with an "Oh" factor when you are 26.
This isn't to say that I still don't find these moments exhilarating. Perhaps that is what drew me to teaching because they tend to happen when you hang out with ten year olds for nine hours a day.
One of the pluses with teaching 4th grade is that some of them are discovering that they are pretty f'in funny. I think it's the age where the clever are separated from the wooden. Luckily, I have several clever little lambs in my room this year.
Even so, a few of them have led me to a few "Ohhhhhhh" moments:
Mr. Vest: "Go to another classroom and take your negative attitude with you."
Class: "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."
One of the better moments occurred a few days ago. Two boys, lets call them Nick and Terry, were having a battle of wits. There was a discussion about why he wanted a girl student, "Andrea," to get a reward.
Mr. Vest: "Why do you want to reward Andrew so badly?"
Nick: "It's because he has a crush on her!"
Class: (a mild) "Ohhhhhh!"
Terry: "Yeah? Well you have a crush on Katrina!"
Class: (a louder) "Ohhhh!!!"
Katrina: "He better not!"
Class: (an even louder) "Ohhhhhhhhhh!"
Nick: "Well, you have a crush on EVERYBODY!"
Class: (earth shattering) "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Nick: "Even MR. VEST!"
Class: (earth exploding) "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Yeah, that was awesome.
When people are trading barbs and someone says something so off color and unexpected that it makes the crowd go, "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." Yeah, I've been on the negative end of that a few times. It's an incredible moment for the other person. They just schooled you, if you will.
This "Oh" factor tends to go by the wayside as you get older. Back in the day, I had a lot of "Oh" moments when people (re: assholes) schooled me on my weight.
Corpulent Mr. Vest: "Got read a book!"
Asshole: "Yeah? Well, go eat everything, piggy."
Crowd of A'holes: "OHHHHHHH!"
Nowadays, it's not really something you encounter. Maybe on the subway. But it's kind of gauche to try to get somebody with an "Oh" factor when you are 26.
This isn't to say that I still don't find these moments exhilarating. Perhaps that is what drew me to teaching because they tend to happen when you hang out with ten year olds for nine hours a day.
One of the pluses with teaching 4th grade is that some of them are discovering that they are pretty f'in funny. I think it's the age where the clever are separated from the wooden. Luckily, I have several clever little lambs in my room this year.
Even so, a few of them have led me to a few "Ohhhhhhh" moments:
Mr. Vest: "Go to another classroom and take your negative attitude with you."
Class: "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."
One of the better moments occurred a few days ago. Two boys, lets call them Nick and Terry, were having a battle of wits. There was a discussion about why he wanted a girl student, "Andrea," to get a reward.
Mr. Vest: "Why do you want to reward Andrew so badly?"
Nick: "It's because he has a crush on her!"
Class: (a mild) "Ohhhhhh!"
Terry: "Yeah? Well you have a crush on Katrina!"
Class: (a louder) "Ohhhh!!!"
Katrina: "He better not!"
Class: (an even louder) "Ohhhhhhhhhh!"
Nick: "Well, you have a crush on EVERYBODY!"
Class: (earth shattering) "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Nick: "Even MR. VEST!"
Class: (earth exploding) "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Yeah, that was awesome.
Student Quote #19
They are finding equivalent fractions...
Student #1: "I was getting into a funky groove with this worksheet until I came upon this question."
Later....
Student #2: "You can't get this? Of my gosh!"
Student #1: "Don't 'oh my gosh' me! I'm allergic to 'oh my gosh.' (beat) That and pollen."
Student #1: "I was getting into a funky groove with this worksheet until I came upon this question."
Later....
Student #2: "You can't get this? Of my gosh!"
Student #1: "Don't 'oh my gosh' me! I'm allergic to 'oh my gosh.' (beat) That and pollen."
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