Tales of Treachery: Back Into the Fray

After a couple weeks away from China-not-China, I had forgotten the little things about my kids (yes, they belong to me) that make them so ridiculous. Now, with exams out of the way, I've the time to share just a few moments from school that I think you'll enjoy.

I had my first mini-crisis at work this past week; Things unfolded in such a way that I had to print out about 250 pages of exam papers (plus exam keys) in a minuscule window of ten minutes, only to later find that the downstairs printer was jammed, and the upstairs printer had a hefty backlog of jobs already. The end result was a very unflattering and uncomfortable sprint from one end of the school to another, dislodging ties and causing an awful racket throughout the building. Somehow I managed to deliver all the paperwork on time, but early-morning cardio in corduroy and a sweater vest is not exactly fun.

We have a big fun reading goals party each semester for those students who read themselves to near-blindness and rack up enough points to satisfy my insatiable hunger for literate young brains. Being a new semester, I needed a new idea for our spring goals party. My solution to this (as is my go-to procedure) was to pass it off to provide an opportunity for leadership & creativity for my kids. I presented a small paper box to the class and stated that I'd be picking an idea from it as the basis for our party. As each student would put their ideas in the box over the course of the day, a few eager beavers wanted to increase the chances of their idea being the one picked. Without my immediate knowledge, it now seems that two particular students wrote no less than 12 copies of their own ideas and stuffed them in with the others, I suppose they wouldn't realize that I know their handwriting, and that there are two particular ideas written on two specific pieces of scrap paper scribbled in two certain styles of ham-fisted printing. I'm no detective, but I think there are one or two students trying to game the system (accidentally or otherwise), most likely in competition with each other. What I should end up doing is starting Monday morning's class in a regretful tone, saying that "I'm sad that I didn't get enough ideas for our party. I thought you guys were really pumped to do something cool, maybe we'll just have cold-rice and listen to quiet music at our desks...", all while watching their respective reactions and maintaining my best poker face. Hahaha I think that would be perfect. 


I have, on my desk, a large cylindrical container filled with the most ridiculous snack I'd yet found in Macau; these things called 'Cheese Rings'. They have none of the crispy tastiness of cheetos combined with none of the basic satisfaction of junk food, coupled with the nutritional value of a page of dirty newspaper. My kids love them and will find just about any way to get their hands on one (or seventy). Since I had to replenish my stock for the new year, I brought in a new container on our first day back, mentioning to the class that the Cheese Rings were back, and I'd be giving them to students who bent to my will most eagerly. Then, from NOWHERE AT ALL, came a sort of competition between students to see who could earn and consume the most Cheese Rings as possible. Maybe they eat yucky breakfasts and need the sustenance to make it through the day. Maybe it was just a hasty urge to ensure that they got some dirty newspaper snacks before they ran out again. Maybe they're just kids and like stuffing their faces with dreadful wheels of powdered cheesy fried corn. All I know is, my class has been transformed into groups of hungry hippos looking for a quick snack. From what I can see, they've divided themselves into the following groups:

> Keener Cleaner Karens who will swoop in like a hawk and sort out any spill, mess, or knocked-over recycle bin in mere seconds and promptly report back to you of their hard work & success.
> Proud Pennys who will declare how well they followed our morning routines, and that they think they're doing a really really good job at being really good.
> Brown-nosing Billys that will lavish you with compliments and kind words galore while you are sitting at your desk and then eye the box of tasty treasures, thinking it will be convenient for me to simply hand them out to the person closest to me.

Nice try kiddos.

This learning made possible by cheese rings

You're not getting those Cheese Rings. Cheese Rings are my secret weapon. Cheese Rings are my tool. Cheese Rings are my saviour when it's the end of the day and the majority of you are rowdy, noisy and swinging from the ceiling. That's when I peel off the plastic lid and start handing out snacks to those select three or four who are doing what they're supposed to be doing, without being reminded. That's when the others begin to catch on and hastily scramble back to their desks, thinking that I, Mr. Stuart, had no idea what was going on just prior, and that they are next in line for a tasty snack. NOPE. Mr. Stuart sees your tricks. He knows how you work, and he knows that Cheese Rings have a magical power that he will continue to wield until his final days.

We start our actual classes tomorrow, so I suppose I should go review my lesson plans, make leveled reading groups, make a new seating plan, and the other grown-up stuff I do to make brains work properly.