Grinning and Swearing over Syllabi

It’s a little difficult to write when my iTunes playlist is soothing the crabby writing self I was planning on strutting today to commune with my First Day of Not Going to School hangover. No, not that kind of a hang over. Sheesh! It’s more of a recovery from the smackdown all those papers that came home from school by way of the RT dealt me.

Such conflicting reactions I had while reading them all, gauging my emotions all the while, and then getting royally pissed off that I was annoyed. Or maybe it was the other way around. You follow? I can imagine not.

I suppose on some level, I found myself remembering my own class syllabi and the reactions parents must have had reading them. Yes, I was a pain in the ass demanding teacher, but I NEVER wrote things such as:

Students are expected to: attend class daily, learn daily, take clear, organized notes daily, bring pencils and erasers, ask a question if the material presented is not understood, and do each day’s Class Fun and Home Fun each day, i.e. don’t wait and then try to cram a month’s worth of work into a weekend! No eating, candy, mints, chewing of gum, or drinking is allowed in the classroom. Students are expected not to: sit idle, sleep, sweaar, perform personal grooming, do the work of another class, leave the classroom before the bell rings, or wear clothing which is against the dress code. Students may not be out of their seats without my permission. I may confiscate anything on a studnent’s desk which is unrelated or inappropriate. This includes, and is not limited to : cell phones, iPods, CD players, Blackberries, Treos, other classes’ books or work, food, drink, makeup, makeup work, homework, artwork, and personal lettes or ntes. These inappropriate items may or may not be returned to the student.

*GASP* Oh, and yes. We have another paper size freak on our hands. It has to be EXACTLY 8-1/2″ x 11″ which means that the 10 packages I purchased for 69 cents a package which measure only 8″ x 10-1/2″ will not be acceptable for this class. Mind you, the actual writing space of the paper I purchased is EXACTLY the same size as the writing space of the larger paper. The area in the margins has been reduced. One just may consider that it is for the purpose of CONSERVATION, mightn’t one?

And what it hell is “Class Fun” and “Home Fun?” Does she actually think that 10th graders will find this humorous?

And the paper that I had to sign so that he would be able to use a graphing calculator purchased with private donations — but only while in class, and not until I signed and returned the paper I was reading — but couldn’t take home to use for his homework — most of which required the use of a graphing calculator…

The subsequent trip to Staples for the graphing calculator set me back about $250. No, not just for the calculator. Art supplies, planner, additional notebooks. I had already been to Staples for the basics. Ugh. What if I had six kids? Condoms, anyone?

Mothers with young children out there…just wait. Those of you with no children, remember being in high school? It’s just a bit different now. Hell, his crap doesn’t even fit in his backpack. And do you think he got a locker? Nope. He said last year he didn’t use the one he had (he doesn’t like to worry about being late to a class…) so at this rate, I’ll have to steal a shopping cart from the local grocery store.

Wait. They installed those locking wheel guards that clamp when you try and wheel them over the magnetic line so the road agents wouldn’t take them. Not funny? Whatever.

It’s just that when I watch the RT hoist the academic megaload over one of his shoulders, I swear I can see him bend and sway a little in the middle like a twig does when a fat bird sits on it, and I wait to see if he’ll snap in two. I don’t dare say anything or I’ll get The Flat Look. The one that suggests I’m verging on being tiresome at best. Downright a pain in the ass at worst. You know. A mother. Okay, so whatever if your mother was June Cleaver. My mother never had to check up on any of us because we just did what we were supposed to do. Why in hell does it just seem like such a bigger pain now days? It makes no sense. I thought we were supposed to be moving away from industrialization for crap sakes. Consider the continued nonsense from the math teacher:

You are tardy if you are not in your seat when the bell rings. The Paradise High School Tardy Policy is enforced in Ms. Persnickety’s classes, and significantly affects your citizenship grade. I track minutes tardy; these minutes accumulate and count towards “periods absent.”

Read: if you aren’t at your station ready to squirt the eyes on the candy chick when the bell sounds, I’ll dock your pay, you worthless cretin.

You know, when the kids read this, they most likely don’t pay any attention. Their eyes glaze over and they stare out the window. They wonder what’s for lunch even though they’re only in their period one class and have three more to go. They think about everything but what matters to that teacher. Well, not all of them. But still. I’m on a roll, here, okay?

The art teacher sounds great, expecting excellence and organization — WOOT! and I can’t wait to join in on the lessons. Why not? She has all the sketchbook assignments for the year laid out already. How cool is that. I’m gonna get right on it. Maybe that way the RT might consider drawing something other than war machines. And weapons.

The history teacher (who is a coach) didn’t even give him a syllabus. I guess there are no expectations for that class. But the RT says he’s a nice guy, so all righty then. We’re set.

It’s all about nice.

Could we have a happy medium, please?





6 responses to “Grinning and Swearing over Syllabi”

  1. Oh, good lord! It is okay if I call this absolute bullshit? You know, there are very few (if any) perks to having a child with a disability. But I hafta say, it does keep your kid out of the classes of craptastic teachers like this. Happy School Year!

    Yah, she’s a bitch. Plain and simple. And I’m thinking “craptastic” is far too good a title to bestow on her sanctimonious shoulders. Happy School Year indeed.

  2. Please tell me the typos and etc. are verbatim, even if that’s not true. I’d like to maintain some illusions, thank you. As for having a happy medium, I’m thinking Hogwarts is your best bet.

    Although “California” so… yeah. Maybe.

    Yanno, RJ, I was tempted to do my editing within the block quote but effectively suppressed myself. I can’t WAIT to meet her at Open House. And with a Happy Medium, I could put a hex on some of these people…What do you expect in a place where they decided to grow palm trees…Balmy. Right?

  3. Wow. What is it with that paper size fetish. something screams stifled creativity here.

    I barely remember written expectations though sure I had some.

    I think you’d better request a conference to clarify the “may or may not be returned to students”. After all she can’t have it both ways. The teacher is going to have to write another paper to send home explaining the conditions under which the items will be returned, and the conditions which would prohibit return.

    Please post this after you request it.


    For some reason there seems to be a problem with the female math teachers down there…I can’t figure it out. Maybe I should have gotten out my red correcting pen, edited her syllabus, or perhaps her face…

  4. ooh that is so annoying. I can’t stand rules for the sake of rules and obsessive people like this one…. and so I don’t look forward to the day when I have a son in the public school system. Hopefully I can keep from getting in fights with the teacher!!

    Hey Jen, I’d say don’t give up on the idea of fights with teachers, just plan how you’ll approach the situation. Ultimately, you’ll come out ahead. And yes, obsessive would be the word. Ugh.

  5. They shouldn’t allow anal retentive control freaks to be teachers.

    Yo. I agree. So when should I start the AI calendar count down? And have you started writing yet? Huh?

  6. Ritzy

    OH Lordy – sounds like a fine start of another year at Paradise High! Maybe they could make a reality show?!

    I remember making up those syallbuses… I don’t think the kids ever read them – now parents on the other hand. Yikes. I think it is sometimes more of a “cover your ass” sort of thing – but surely not to be confused with “pull the pole out of your ass”!

    Good luck to RT and RT’s Mom and Dad.
    When’s Open House? 🙂

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