Rohit: If you want a skate park, y'all should ask Gavin. I'm not going to help build you one. (One of our lessons dealt with electing a mayor who campaigned on building a skatepark—c'mon, this is second grade.)
Student 1: Who's Gavin?
Student 2: He's the mayor, stupid!
Student 1: Oh, I thought he was dead.
Rohit: He'll be dead in the water once my roommate announces his candidacy.
Class: What?!
Rohit: Nevermind
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Foreshadowing
Today I taught my final class for Junior Achievement (more on this later on the Realm), but I thought I'd share a funny dialog from today's class:
Life on the Edge
This morning, I drove to work. Now, my commute is usually about 45 minutes, especially given the congestion at the Fell/Octavia intersection and the bridge traffic. However, probably due to my above-normal aggressive driving today, I was flying by all the cars and was already on the East Bay side of the Bay Bridge within 20 minutes. Crazy, eh? Well, not as crazy as driving over the newly reconstructed I-580 connector.
In case you didn't hear, a portion of the highway collapsed a few weeks ago during a truck accident. The contractors cleaned out the section and replaced the collapsed section not days, but WEEKS in advance. Not to knock on them, but isn't that a bit too fast? Did someone test the highway? When it reopened, I thought about how I'll let a few thousand cars test the connector before I went ahead and drove on it.
Of course, my vision of trying it a few weeks from now went out the window as I suddenly realized that I was heading up the I-580 ramp. My pulse accelerated. I thought about whether i should accelerate just in case the portion collapsed again.... I mean, if they did it in "Speed" with a bus, I'm sure my Corolla can handle a little jump. I saw the 165-foot stretch of new concrete. It seemed to stretch into eternity.
But before I knew it, I was already past it and on the 580. I saw the familiar sights from the highway, namely the Best Buy in Emeryville. I shrugged and continued on my journey. I knew it was going to be a good day.
In case you didn't hear, a portion of the highway collapsed a few weeks ago during a truck accident. The contractors cleaned out the section and replaced the collapsed section not days, but WEEKS in advance. Not to knock on them, but isn't that a bit too fast? Did someone test the highway? When it reopened, I thought about how I'll let a few thousand cars test the connector before I went ahead and drove on it.
Of course, my vision of trying it a few weeks from now went out the window as I suddenly realized that I was heading up the I-580 ramp. My pulse accelerated. I thought about whether i should accelerate just in case the portion collapsed again.... I mean, if they did it in "Speed" with a bus, I'm sure my Corolla can handle a little jump. I saw the 165-foot stretch of new concrete. It seemed to stretch into eternity.
But before I knew it, I was already past it and on the 580. I saw the familiar sights from the highway, namely the Best Buy in Emeryville. I shrugged and continued on my journey. I knew it was going to be a good day.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
What's Cooler Than Cool? Ice Cold!
Melinda visited my class yesterday and asked a student to tell her a secret about me.
The student said, "Mr. Sharp is mean! His heart is made out of ice!" To which Melinda responded, "That's not a secret. Everyone knows that."
What have I become? I'm turning into Rohit.
PS. Melinda says, "Actually, Rohit likes sea otters. You're WORSE than Rohit."
The student said, "Mr. Sharp is mean! His heart is made out of ice!" To which Melinda responded, "That's not a secret. Everyone knows that."
What have I become? I'm turning into Rohit.
PS. Melinda says, "Actually, Rohit likes sea otters. You're WORSE than Rohit."
Anything Less Would Be Uncivilized
I don't think my students know what deodorant is...
Student: Mr. Sharp, are you wearing cologne?
Me: No, of course not.
Student: Oh, you smell really nice today.
Me: Thanks! (It's rare that a student says something nice about me). I'm not wearing cologne, but I am wearing deodorant.
The Entire Class: EEEEWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (In the loud, annoying way that only a class of 5th graders could do).
WTF!?
Either my class doesn't know what deodorant is (scary thought), or they were playing a mean mean joke on me. And yes, I did write mean twice on purpose - that's how mean it was.
Student: Mr. Sharp, are you wearing cologne?
Me: No, of course not.
Student: Oh, you smell really nice today.
Me: Thanks! (It's rare that a student says something nice about me). I'm not wearing cologne, but I am wearing deodorant.
The Entire Class: EEEEWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (In the loud, annoying way that only a class of 5th graders could do).
WTF!?
Either my class doesn't know what deodorant is (scary thought), or they were playing a mean mean joke on me. And yes, I did write mean twice on purpose - that's how mean it was.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
Dangerous Minds
Last Friday, I took the day off work and went to Phil's school to teach. Now I know you loyal readers (all two of you) just read that last statement and did a double take. I mean, G-Unit... teaching? Isn't this the same guy who got HECKLED while performing community service at a senior citizens home? Well, yes. Phil and I have been talking about making a guest appearance in the class for a long time... probably since he first started teaching. With my imminent departure to the East Coast and the end of the school year, I thought what better time than now to go ahead and make this happen.
A few days before Teaching Day, Phil sent me the following agenda for the day:
8-8:25: Journal
8:25-8:45: Religion
8:45-9: Spelling Test
9-9:50: WHATEVER WE WANT
9:50-10:15: Recess
10:25-11:10: Music upstairs with the music teacher
11:10-12:15 WHATEVER WE WANT
12:15-1: Lunch
1-1:20: Silent Reading
1:20-2:15: WHATEVER WE WANT
2:15-2:45: Party with UC Berkeley grad student Cindy
2:45-3: Pack up and go home
I had three one-hour blocks to fill. Given the recent intake of steroids I've been taking, I decided that we needed to put in a game of kickball. So that was one hour. After riffing with my boss, I decided to fill the other two hours with a "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?" quiz and a "Let's Make a Deal" demonstration, which would hit a little bit of my statistical background. I figured by the end of the day, the kids would want me to be the teacher and not Mr. Phil. It'd be easy.
Well, of course, it wasn't quite as easy as it sounded.
We rolled into the school around 7 am. This is around the time when I normally get up and hit the snooze button. As we talked into the class room, I had Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise" in the back of my head. Although I forgot my jean jacket, I was ready.
The Morning
The morning started off well. Before classes began, I was just looking around in the hallway and a few students came up to me and asked if I was Mr. Sharp's roommate. I didn't realize there was so much hype to the visit.
The early highlight was during a spelling game where we went around the classroom spelling various words coming from their spelling quiz. If you were the person after a word is successfully spelled out, you had to sink a basket in the Nerf basketball net or you'd get knocked out. Towards the end of the game, I was facing a do-or-die foul shot and sank it. I pumped my first in the air like Baron Davis and went back to play.
"Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?"
In the morning, Phil and I prepared a series of questions on various topics, ranging from math to religion. The game was played Jeopardy style and The Class and I switched off picking topics. The questions ranged from very easy to pretty hard stuff. One thing I was blown away by was how competitive these kids were. It got so heated that they started turning on each other. I pulled a Shoeless Joe and started tanking the game. It hurt my ego a lot and I kept it close... but there was no way I could face the possibility of what would happen if I had in fact won.
"Let's Make a Deal"
Originally, I wanted to do a "Deal or No Deal" game. After pitching this to my boss at work, she suggested the Monty Hall problem and I thought that was a fabulous idea. We got a projector working and recorded the statistics. Most amazing moment? The students started to piece together what was going on and eventually came to the correct solution to the problem. Most hilarious moment? I was trying to wrap up the whole segment, so I decided to babble about how "statistics can help everyone in so many ways and maybe you can do this for a living too when you grow up." I think Phil was ready to puke.
Kickball, Lunch, and Recess
I remember exactly the last time I played kickball. It was a few weeks before moving to CA when I was working part time as a band camp counselor. I was the automatic pitcher and we played rules where if you hit a person with the ball, they were out. Well, the last play I ever made was when the ball went straight back at me, I picked up the ball, and chucked it at the student. It hit that person so hard that they fell to the ground.
I mention this story as full disclosure so you know how conflicted I was to return to the mound. And after a few batters, the ball went back to me again and I had an opportunity to get a runner at second out. I caught up to the kid and lightly threw the ball at the kid to get him out. The kid did not fall. Instead, he started complaining to Mr. Sharp about how I threw the ball at him and it hurt. Of course, Mr. Sharp had my back and told the kid to sit down. I love it. Collusion.
The End
At the end of the day, we had a party for student teacher. The kids were jacked up with candy, sweets, pie, and cake. It was crazy. Think of the last time you dealt with a kid on sugar high. Well, multiple that by 13. It was all good though and I'm glad that in the end, no one cried or got hurt.
So there was my day of teaching. I learned two things. First, it's freakin' hard to teach. I have much more respect for Phil and other teachers who do this day in and day out. Second, I'm still smarter than a fifth grader. VICTORY!!!!!
A few days before Teaching Day, Phil sent me the following agenda for the day:
8-8:25: Journal
8:25-8:45: Religion
8:45-9: Spelling Test
9-9:50: WHATEVER WE WANT
9:50-10:15: Recess
10:25-11:10: Music upstairs with the music teacher
11:10-12:15 WHATEVER WE WANT
12:15-1: Lunch
1-1:20: Silent Reading
1:20-2:15: WHATEVER WE WANT
2:15-2:45: Party with UC Berkeley grad student Cindy
2:45-3: Pack up and go home
I had three one-hour blocks to fill. Given the recent intake of steroids I've been taking, I decided that we needed to put in a game of kickball. So that was one hour. After riffing with my boss, I decided to fill the other two hours with a "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?" quiz and a "Let's Make a Deal" demonstration, which would hit a little bit of my statistical background. I figured by the end of the day, the kids would want me to be the teacher and not Mr. Phil. It'd be easy.
Well, of course, it wasn't quite as easy as it sounded.
We rolled into the school around 7 am. This is around the time when I normally get up and hit the snooze button. As we talked into the class room, I had Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise" in the back of my head. Although I forgot my jean jacket, I was ready.
The Morning
The morning started off well. Before classes began, I was just looking around in the hallway and a few students came up to me and asked if I was Mr. Sharp's roommate. I didn't realize there was so much hype to the visit.
The early highlight was during a spelling game where we went around the classroom spelling various words coming from their spelling quiz. If you were the person after a word is successfully spelled out, you had to sink a basket in the Nerf basketball net or you'd get knocked out. Towards the end of the game, I was facing a do-or-die foul shot and sank it. I pumped my first in the air like Baron Davis and went back to play.
"Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?"
In the morning, Phil and I prepared a series of questions on various topics, ranging from math to religion. The game was played Jeopardy style and The Class and I switched off picking topics. The questions ranged from very easy to pretty hard stuff. One thing I was blown away by was how competitive these kids were. It got so heated that they started turning on each other. I pulled a Shoeless Joe and started tanking the game. It hurt my ego a lot and I kept it close... but there was no way I could face the possibility of what would happen if I had in fact won.
"Let's Make a Deal"
Originally, I wanted to do a "Deal or No Deal" game. After pitching this to my boss at work, she suggested the Monty Hall problem and I thought that was a fabulous idea. We got a projector working and recorded the statistics. Most amazing moment? The students started to piece together what was going on and eventually came to the correct solution to the problem. Most hilarious moment? I was trying to wrap up the whole segment, so I decided to babble about how "statistics can help everyone in so many ways and maybe you can do this for a living too when you grow up." I think Phil was ready to puke.
Kickball, Lunch, and Recess
I remember exactly the last time I played kickball. It was a few weeks before moving to CA when I was working part time as a band camp counselor. I was the automatic pitcher and we played rules where if you hit a person with the ball, they were out. Well, the last play I ever made was when the ball went straight back at me, I picked up the ball, and chucked it at the student. It hit that person so hard that they fell to the ground.
I mention this story as full disclosure so you know how conflicted I was to return to the mound. And after a few batters, the ball went back to me again and I had an opportunity to get a runner at second out. I caught up to the kid and lightly threw the ball at the kid to get him out. The kid did not fall. Instead, he started complaining to Mr. Sharp about how I threw the ball at him and it hurt. Of course, Mr. Sharp had my back and told the kid to sit down. I love it. Collusion.
The End
At the end of the day, we had a party for student teacher. The kids were jacked up with candy, sweets, pie, and cake. It was crazy. Think of the last time you dealt with a kid on sugar high. Well, multiple that by 13. It was all good though and I'm glad that in the end, no one cried or got hurt.
So there was my day of teaching. I learned two things. First, it's freakin' hard to teach. I have much more respect for Phil and other teachers who do this day in and day out. Second, I'm still smarter than a fifth grader. VICTORY!!!!!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Contradiction, Not Eternity
Last night at Yancy's, G-Unit once again showed us that his infamous nickname (i.e., "pimp ng") is most certainly well deserved. The three of us had arrived at Yancy's in the pursuit of happiness (and by that, I mean, some random girl who hit on me at a Starbucks), and after making the customary rounds to "scope the scene," we had found a table in the center of all the action. Though the original raison d'être of our trip was for me, it was G-Unit on whom Fortune smiled that night.
A waitress came up to our table to take our drink orders, and stopped next to G-Unit, pulling up close to him (much as another woman had just weeks before), and seductively making eye contact. The power of her gaze still gives me shivers when I think about it. After holding the eye contact a minute too long, the following conversation transpired:
As can be assumed, as soon as the waitress was out of sight, Phil began sniffing G-Unit, trying to figure out if he smelled that strongly of cologne. His conclusion: G-Unit didn't smell like anything! After some more investigation by Eva, we concluded that the waitress had just been using a pick-up line. The best part, however, came when G-Unit remembered that the cologne he was wearing that night was Contradiction, not Eternity. As it turned out, it couldn't have mattered in the least. Add another woman to G-Unit's already sizable bullpen. Contradiction, 1; Eternity, 0.
A waitress came up to our table to take our drink orders, and stopped next to G-Unit, pulling up close to him (much as another woman had just weeks before), and seductively making eye contact. The power of her gaze still gives me shivers when I think about it. After holding the eye contact a minute too long, the following conversation transpired:
Waitress: Excuse me, but, I have to ask. What cologne are you wearing?
G-Unit: Um, it's Eternity by Calvin Klein.
Waitress: I thought so. That's the cologne my ex used to wear.
G-Unit: Oh yeah? Do I know you from somewhere? Come here often? How you doing? Let me turn my spidey senses on... down there.
Rohit: G-Unit! Give her your business card!
Waitress: (blushing) Let me get those drinks for you guys...
As can be assumed, as soon as the waitress was out of sight, Phil began sniffing G-Unit, trying to figure out if he smelled that strongly of cologne. His conclusion: G-Unit didn't smell like anything! After some more investigation by Eva, we concluded that the waitress had just been using a pick-up line. The best part, however, came when G-Unit remembered that the cologne he was wearing that night was Contradiction, not Eternity. As it turned out, it couldn't have mattered in the least. Add another woman to G-Unit's already sizable bullpen. Contradiction, 1; Eternity, 0.
Friday's Conversation
Here is a conversation that I had on Friday with a student during recess:
Student: Mr. Sharp, is there an empty space inside of you?
Mr. Sharp: Yes.
Student: Where?
Mr. Sharp: My heart.
haha. I have no idea why she asked me if there was an empty space inside of me. The conversation went on from here, but this was definitely the best part.
Student: Mr. Sharp, is there an empty space inside of you?
Mr. Sharp: Yes.
Student: Where?
Mr. Sharp: My heart.
haha. I have no idea why she asked me if there was an empty space inside of me. The conversation went on from here, but this was definitely the best part.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Something is Wrong
There is something seriously wrong with my students. I will provide two examples.
Example 1:
I'm hanging out after school with a few students and I start playing the new Wilco record on my computer. One of my students says, "Mr. Sharp, this music is boring. Do you have any rap music with bad words?" At least they didn't ask to listen to the Justin Timberlame album.
Example 2:
I took all my kids on a field trip to the Audubon Canyon Ranch. For more details on how awesome this place is, check out an article in today's SF Chronicle: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/05/03/NSG1KPGKA51.DTL. When we get back from the field trip I ask one of my students, "Did you have fun on the field trip?" Her response: "Not really, Mr. Sharp. We should've went to the Exploratorium, it's more fun." Of course, I am way too sarcastic to let a student suggest we go to the Exploratorium, so I had to respond, "You'd rather go to the ExploraBORIUM!?"
Example 1:
I'm hanging out after school with a few students and I start playing the new Wilco record on my computer. One of my students says, "Mr. Sharp, this music is boring. Do you have any rap music with bad words?" At least they didn't ask to listen to the Justin Timberlame album.
Example 2:
I took all my kids on a field trip to the Audubon Canyon Ranch. For more details on how awesome this place is, check out an article in today's SF Chronicle: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/05/03/NSG1KPGKA51.DTL. When we get back from the field trip I ask one of my students, "Did you have fun on the field trip?" Her response: "Not really, Mr. Sharp. We should've went to the Exploratorium, it's more fun." Of course, I am way too sarcastic to let a student suggest we go to the Exploratorium, so I had to respond, "You'd rather go to the ExploraBORIUM!?"
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
The Bandwagon Fan
It's a common phenomenon. Your team sucks for a few years and suddenly enters a very good year or a few good years. Before you know it, you enter a stadium, arena, or some other sports venue and while before the scene was empty seats or the hardcore, loyal fans cynical of the team's potential success... it's all replaced by "born again" fans, people who claim they were always fans all along, and other people who really look like they've never been to a game before, but it's the in thing to do so they're there. People suddenly start wearing clothing reflective of your team, whether at the games or on the streets. Maybe at work. Yes, this is the sign of the Bandwagon Fan.
I first experienced it a few years ago when I started going to Oakland A's games at the Coliseum. I've gone to a lot of random games, but each year, I made it an effort to go see a Red Sox game in order to represent. During the first few years, there were fans and Boston ex-pats scattered throughout the stadium. When we bumped into each other at the food stand or in the seats, we'd give each other the knowing nod and continue on our business. During the playoffs in 2003, I remember vividly being the only Red Sox fan in my entire section. When we eliminated the A's, it was easily the scariest walk I've ever had to take from walking from the 500 level to the BART station.
The 2004 World Series changed all that. During the next year, I went to the entire Red Sox series in Oakland and I was surprised that over half the fans were Red Sox fans. Honestly. They literally appeared overnight. It became harder to get seats. Suddenly, instead of being the only Sox fan in my section, my friends were usually the only A's fans. Instead of seeing green all around the stadium, there were significant patches of Red, Blue, and the occasional pink. Yes, pink. If anything, that was a smoking gun that we now had bandwagon fans. It's those damn pink hats. Who really wears pink baseball hats? Not to be a snob, but true fans don't wear that.
So I always scoffed at those who jumped on a team's bandwagon. It didn't seem cool.
And now, I find myself being a big Warriors fan. Well, not a big fan, but a big sign of my changing attitude towards the team is how I've talked at lengths at work with people about the games, I get worked up watching the playoff games, and when there are highlights on SportsCenter, I don't flip the channel anymore. Now this is especially hilarious since I've never watched a Warriors game in my life until maybe a week and a half ago. Will I ever call them my home team? No. The lousy Celtics are. But I am considering getting a hat or a t-shirt. Does that make me a hypocrite?
I first experienced it a few years ago when I started going to Oakland A's games at the Coliseum. I've gone to a lot of random games, but each year, I made it an effort to go see a Red Sox game in order to represent. During the first few years, there were fans and Boston ex-pats scattered throughout the stadium. When we bumped into each other at the food stand or in the seats, we'd give each other the knowing nod and continue on our business. During the playoffs in 2003, I remember vividly being the only Red Sox fan in my entire section. When we eliminated the A's, it was easily the scariest walk I've ever had to take from walking from the 500 level to the BART station.
The 2004 World Series changed all that. During the next year, I went to the entire Red Sox series in Oakland and I was surprised that over half the fans were Red Sox fans. Honestly. They literally appeared overnight. It became harder to get seats. Suddenly, instead of being the only Sox fan in my section, my friends were usually the only A's fans. Instead of seeing green all around the stadium, there were significant patches of Red, Blue, and the occasional pink. Yes, pink. If anything, that was a smoking gun that we now had bandwagon fans. It's those damn pink hats. Who really wears pink baseball hats? Not to be a snob, but true fans don't wear that.
So I always scoffed at those who jumped on a team's bandwagon. It didn't seem cool.
And now, I find myself being a big Warriors fan. Well, not a big fan, but a big sign of my changing attitude towards the team is how I've talked at lengths at work with people about the games, I get worked up watching the playoff games, and when there are highlights on SportsCenter, I don't flip the channel anymore. Now this is especially hilarious since I've never watched a Warriors game in my life until maybe a week and a half ago. Will I ever call them my home team? No. The lousy Celtics are. But I am considering getting a hat or a t-shirt. Does that make me a hypocrite?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)