I Just Can't Stop

At Staples, this past September, there was a good price on Uniball liquid green ink pens - my marking preference.  I had the pack of 3 already in the cart before I caught myself, "Stupid, you have enough ink in the 4 green pens you already own to cover this final year."

I very reluctantly put them back on the display hook - but they were such a great deal!

I just can't seem to stop.  I still find myself spotting cool stuff to use in my teaching.  For 35 years I've always had an eye out for "educational" things (educational can be a very large and encompassing umbrella).  Here is but a small sampling of my collection that will need a new home come June.

- garage sale Twister, along with two shot puts used to demonstrate in science the  law of conservation of motion (similar to a spinning skater stretching out her arms and twirling faster as she pulls them in)

- 8 track tape taken apart to show the ingenious way a loop of tape can unwind and rewind itself  (No, I never listened to this when I was younger!)

- garage sale strobe lights - drama and plays use

-   floating rock, purchased on vacation somewhere - density in science

- map I purchased in one of the Caribbean Islands, used when I teach the songs of the Caribbean and the grade 6's do their percussion unit

- garage sale lid off of an oil drum - best cheap gong ever!

- heat lamp - grade 7 science

- one of my old speakers with the magnet pried off - science electricity unit

- fossil trilobites - purchased on vacation in Colorado

- garage sale tub (note the hole drilled in the centre of the bottom) add a rope, and stick and get a washtub bass instrument

- dollar store plastic tube you swing above your head.  Demonstrates the progression of notes in a vibrating tube

- my old ceiling fan motor disassembled showing electromagnetic coils (electricity)

- some of the myriad of maracas (purchased on vacation or found at yard sales)

- don't know where these came from, but they were in the staff room at AV Graham when I arrived in 1984 and I just inherited them.  You never know when you'll need a couple of sombreros.  They have been  used multiple times somewhere in the school every year. 

-steel drum (actually in tune!) purchased from the maker on a beach in St. Lucia

- flute from Art in the Park made from PVC plastic pipe

- seed pods from a tree in St. Lucia that when dried, the seeds shrink and shake inside (the one in the middle has been broken apart and the indentations where the seeds were can be seen).  I brought 45 of these home in my luggage and was able to give one to each kid in my grade 5 class.

- recorders and flute made from bamboo

- a bamboo scraper and a metallic scraper made in the Caribbean from an empty tin can (actually used by the locals in their bands)

- authentic Chinese gong (12" diameter) purchased in second hand store near Orillia for $20

- cardboard cutout of television set (lots of "TV Shows" done with this prop)

- 5 1/4" floppy disk (see, this is why they were called floppies, because they bend and flop)

- 5 gallon plastic water jugs used as cheap djembes for drumming with music classes

The above pictures were taken during a quick walk through of my class.  I think I'm gonna need a bigger garage - especially when I have to bring my album collection home from school!!!

You Say It's Your Birthday

My youngest daughter, Sadie, had her 5th birthday last weekend.  As I held her in my lap, I told her the story of how cool it had been that I got to hold her and rock her for 20 minutes, all alone, right after she was born 5 years ago that very day.  That reminded me of a cool experience with the birth of my first child, almost 29 years ago.

I was teaching grade 3 at DM Eagle Public School and had been keeping the kids abreast of the upcoming birth.  I had always liked the tradition of handing out cigars on the birth of a baby and I got the idea to hand out candy cigars to my students, but for the life of me, I couldn't find anywhere those black licorice cigars I remembered from my youth - and back then there were no Costcos, no Bulk Barns, or Walmarts (it was still Woolco at that time).  My dad was a truck driver in Detroit and was known to the other drivers as the Canadian Shopping King.  I asked him to put his super-sleuthing shopping skills to the test.  He outperformed my expectation by finding baby blue "It's a Boy" bubblegum cigars by the boxful.  When I returned to school and handed them out, my kids were thrilled.  Little did I know that they, too, had come up with a plan.

One day, a few weeks later, I came into my classroom just before the end of recess and found the room full of kids, parents, and my wife, along with my weeks-old son.  The room was resplendent in baby shower decorations, complete with a cake, cards and presents.   The kids (especially the 8 year old girls) were in heaven.  Everyone got to hold the baby, we opened cards and gifts, and ate cake.  What a memorable surprise.

And the icing on the cake?  One of the Moms was a part-time teacher at St. Gregory school.  When the "party" was done there was still time left until the end of the day.  She ushered me out the door with the order to, "Go, relax and have a visit with your wife and son in the staff room.  I'll take your class."

Yup, quite a memorable experience.

Chris and Me

Twin Day

Student Council had set "Twin Day" for the end of the week.  The students had paired up and were planning their identical outfits, and so had most of the staff.  I was twinless.  No one was left to pair up with me.

I've never quite understood where a lot of my ideas come from.  Whenever my wife, Connie, looks at me for the umpteenth time and declares, "Where does this stuff come from?", I reassure her that, lucky for her, I only say, or act on, a small percentage of the crap that goes through my head.

At home, early on the morning of Twin Day, I spotted my potential twin.  I don't know how, but my son's toy shouted loudly in my head, "Hulkamania's runnin' wild, brother!"

I tore through the house finding the appropriate clothing.  At school, I scrounged some craft paper and magic markers to recreate the championship belt and shirt lettering and then added the pièce de résistance - poster paint sideburns and moustache.

I'd like to be able to relate that "we" won, but the largest applause was for a couple of semi-cute grade four students who were gaudily decked out to the nines.  I think the contest was fixed.

Bittersweet Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has always been a special holiday for me as an adult.  As a kid, not so much.  My dad worked in Detroit and we 'celebrated' American Thanksgiving.  However, as a teacher, Thanksgiving rocks.  After 6 or so weeks of school, the first long weekend is greatly anticipated.  The icing on the cake is being able to spend Thanksgiving at the cottage in Grand Bend.  I bring along marking that I haven't quite finished, as well as my school Christmas Musical to block and to get myself prepared for auditions which happen right after Thanksgiving.  And there is still time for enjoying family and relaxing as well.

In my first few years of teaching, however, Thanksgiving was more a time to finally get a grip on planning and actually be prepared a week or two in advance.  During these early years of teaching I would haul text books, and marking, and reference material to Thanksgiving gatherings and spend most of my time on school work.  As I improved my skills as a teacher, the ratio of the time I would have to spend on school work compared to leisure time diminished.

This year however has been different.  For the first time in my career, my Thanksgiving work-to-rest percentage was - zero.  I spent this past entire long weekend on leisure time with my family.  Not because I have become Super Teacher, or any such, but because I have had no extra-curriculars at school this year.  In a normal year,  I would have been deep into my second Glee Club presentation and would have already spent hours on the Junior Christmas Musical which would have meant my marking would have backed up a bit as well.  But this is not a normal year.

In this, my retirement year, it would have been nice to be able to do one last Junior Christmas Musical, one more Intermediate Musical, one more each of Grade 7, Grade 8, and Travel Bands, one final Band Trip to Wonderland, and a myriad of other extra-curriculars.  But it appears that is not going to happen.  Volunteer my time when I'm being treated unfairly by my employer?  Really?  My mother didn't raise no idiot.

One would expect that I'd be feeling thankful that I'm getting out when I am.
Regrettably, politics has tarnished my exit from a lifelong career and tainted it bittersweet.

Gus, Ted and Anthie

 Gus, Ted and Anthie

Some kids just stick in your mind - sometimes for decades:  some because they were needy, some because they were unique, or out of the ordinary, or off the beaten path, others because they were a Pita (Pain In The A**), some because they have a great story tied in with them, and still many, many others because they were great kids.  Gus, Ted and Anthie fall into the last two categories.  They were siblings whom I taught over a span of 10 years or so.  Gus, the oldest, used to bring me home-made baklava for lunch (that, in it's own right is memorable) and was a great kid.  Anthie was quick-witted and personable and a great kid.  Ted was into every and all things - in a good sense - and also was a great kid.  Their story involves my bass guitar.

When I began teaching instrumental music at A.V. Graham in 1990, bass guitar was not offered as an instrument.  I personally owned an old Yamaha bass that I had purchased, used, years earlier.  It wasn't pretty but it was functional.  I bought an old beat up amp and introduced bass guitar to my classes.  Today I have a stable of 5 basses and 4 amps for my program. (See picture.  Note the ugly grey amp at the far left -  that's the one and is still in use today)

Early one morning, many years ago, Ted came into my room to return our one-and-only bass from having it home for the weekend.  "Uh, Mr. Farrer, I have something to show you about the bass."

Now, things do sometimes come loose or even break during normal wear and tear, especially when there are up to 10 different kids using the instruments.  I teach proper playing techniques and safety, but occasionally accidents do happen.  Students are responsible for paying for repairs that they have caused through their actions, whether intentional or accidental.  For me, one of the worst things a kid can do is try to sneak a damaged instrument back on the shelf.

Ted opened up the case.  There was my bass with the neck snapped in two!  When I asked Ted how this had happened, he told me the bass had fallen.  No kidding.  He continued to explain that his older brother, Gus, had been playing it.  I was silent and let him sweat a bit.  "Gus was reaching out to take something from me and the strap let go."   Ah ha!  Rule #6, subsection (B), article (3c) - 'Always have one hand on your instrument at all times because the strap does sometimes come off.'

"Leave it with me,"  I told him.  "I'll see what I can do."  A few days' work with epoxy, c-claps, and sandpaper and it was repaired - not very pretty, but functional once again.  This instrument has remained a member of my classroom bass arsenal until two years ago.  Recently, I had one of my school basses in for repair so I took this old baby out of retirement and she did a stint back in the classroom.  (In the pictures, besides the repaired broken neck, also note the crack remaining in the headstock, and the screws and washers and the nylon tie helping to keep it playable.)

So, if students know they should never let siblings play their instruments and that they are responsible for all repairs, why did I not send it away to be professionally done?  Well, I wasn't concerned that Ted had let his brother play the bass because I knew that Gus, even though he was then in high school, was familiar with proper instrument procedures.  I was also fairly confident that neither of them would have been mistreating my property.  And, more importantly, Ted came to me and owned the damage.  So, I cut him a break.  Why?  Well, as I stated earlier... they were great kids.