William Lyon Phelps

William Lyon Phelps once said, “A student never forgets an encouraging private word, when it is given with sincere respect and admiration”, but what about when the students pull us aside and encourage us? It amazes me how closely they watch us. Our kids notice when we change our hair color, or get new shoes. They can sense our mood before we have even spoken, and they know when we need them to tell us that we are doing a good job and that they think we are great. I was having very possibly the worst day of my life yesterday; I won’t go into detail, just trust me that it was BAD. And at the worst moments of that day, kids stepped up to make me feel better, “Miss Adams I’m sorry your sad, but I love you”, “I’m gonna get you a Twix right now, Twix fix everything”. But of them all, there is one student who has never been one to say Adams I love you, or you’re my favorite teacher. But he did everything in his power to make me smile and then he put his and on my shoulder and told me that he thought I was great. And as he left my class he asked, “did I make you feel even a little better?”. What can you say to that? Maybe it is this, William Lyon Phelps wasn’t wrong, but I have to say that it works both ways; because, a teacher never forgets an encouraging private word when it is given with sincere respect and admiration. 

Dieting : Miss Adams :: Sonnet : Shakespeare

Since I am already in a bad mood from the past horrific week at work, I decided to add insult to injury and throw a diet in there. You know, just to see just how much I can take before I lose my mind and crack. I’ll be honest; I am always on a diet. But I have a schedule right now, and come hell or high water, death or dismemberment, I WILL MEET MY GOAL. And so here it is, I am joining the bandwagon of crack heads that hope and pray that the cabbage soup diet will miraculously drop at least 10 pounds off of their bodies. So here is day one… I have not cheated, but I can tell you this right now in all honesty I want to inflict pain on someone. I love soup, more than any normal person should ever love soup, but I’m so hungry I am nearing violence. It’s not like I have 50 pounds to lose, or even 20. I can’t really explain why it is so important that I do this. I guess I can sum it up with a fight I had with a member of my family this week. Let’s just say that they pointed out that I recently gained 5 pounds…I’ve been crying for the past 3 days…

I can do this… but I have to point something out. Did you ever notice the “die” in diet?

Meeting Your Match…

So today was my first day back with the kids after winter break. I was really happy to be back. But I was a little hesitant about what to expect. You see I was given the charge of taking over several of the 11^th grade English classes. The reason for this being that the students were so hellacious, that the previous teacher threatened to retire if she had them for second semester.  And thus I inherited a motley crew of teenage hooligans. But hooligans are my favorite, so I am happy! They make life so much more interesting. And really, I am a tough cookie to crack; I get down with the best of them. But today I met a child that very well may be my match. For whatever reason, he has decided that he is going to be a little punk. And by punk I mean that he acts like he has ADHD and is blind and deaf to anything said or done by an authority figure. Well, all I can say is bring it on honey! I will shove you in a corner of darkness and move on with class. I’m prepared for you. And besides, I have thugs to take of things if I need them;)

Why me????

I'm sitting at a high school in Romoland.... Dying a slow slow death!!!


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A Sad End to Winter Break

Winter break is a beautiful thing. Time away from the kids, co-workers, and irritating drivers in Perris, brings refreshment to the inner workings of my being. I swear I have developed severe road rage just from the way four way stops are done in Perris. But this year, my beautiful winter break has been cut short.

ERRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All the English teachers had to come back a week early from winter break to go to a “training”… just imagine it this way… some deaths are slow and painful. But this is much, much worse. It is never a good thing when you sit there thinking that being eaten alive by army ants would ease your pain and would be a relief from the boredom in which you are withering.  I have said this before, but I will say this again, why do teacher trainings always reduce you to the level of a 5 year old? I am an adult. I have an education. I can drive and manage a bank account and do all the things that other adults do. So then please, someone, tell me why it is that the trainers feel that all the teachers in the room are an elementary class?

Okay, so with that out of the way I am getting ready for my new semester! Loads of fun I can already tell. I was looking over my rosters, in a class of 23 students I have 5 girls… and in a class of 26 I have 8 girls. What is the sadist part is that I know most of these girls and the never come to school! This means that next semester I might as well be teaching at an all boy school. hmmmm….vocabulary football anyone?

Miss Adams… and the potlatch

It is an important week, semester finals. Kids are rushing to get work turned in. Teachers are rushing to grades done and submitted. Now, this is an end to something. I hate endings. I think that beginnings are scary, middles are happy and endings are sad and depressing. And how do Italians cope with sad things like saying goodbye? We eat… actually, we feed the people we are loosing. So! Guess what I am doing this week with my classes? You bet, feeding them. Every class is having a potlatch! I just finished making a huge army size pot of meatballs. Talk about food of love people! School potlatches have a special place in my heart… let me tell you why…

I had an amazing friend when I was in high school. We met our freshman year, right after my family moved from Texas to California. We weren’t friends at first; in fact he made me cry the first time we met. He yelled at me because I was sitting in his seat. And when I say yell, picture your second day of school in a new state (lookin’ like a preppy in the hood) and an angry latino male up in your grill lookin’ like he gonna kill you. Since I was not the tenacious Miss Adams that you now know and love, I avoided him at all cost for several weeks after the incident. I even went as far as to fain illness and go home to avoid being in the same room as him. But he was a nice person, and when he was finally able to catch me, he apologized for what he had done. We were friends from that point on. But my fondest memory of this friend was our 11^th grade class potlatch.

We had made a pact him and me that we would join our school’s restaurant and so in 11^th grade we did. After a year working as cooking partners we had mastered the art of making breakfast sandwiches and burritos, cookies and other delightful Eagle’s Nest delicacies. For our final grade we were assigned to host a class potlatch. I was thrilled! I have always loved to cook, and this was an opportunity to cook what I love and not what I was assigned. I made tortilla soup. We sat at the potlatch for 2 hours eating soup and goodies and talking. And I realized what a special friend I had when I was sitting at that potlatch. There is something special about sharing something you have worked so hard on with people you care about. Sometimes there are no words to say thank you. Sometimes there are no words to tell someone how special they are to you. But food is an art form that let’s us do that.

Miss Independent and Korean Drama Induced Narcolepsy...

So I went to dinner last week with a friend of mine, and there we were enjoying our Korean BBQ when the topic of dating came up proceeded of course by the realization that I am a quarter of a century old. I am closer to 30 than to 20 and I don’t even have a prospect of a love interest at the moment. Now, I am fine with this on a daily bases. I like being able to say that I answer to no man, I go where I want when I want and spend what I want. I travel; I have stamps in my passport. I don’t have to justify my job to anyone. In fact, just start humming independent woman right now and put a picture of me in your head. But it struck me today… I am exhausted from being so independent! I used to be able to watch T.V. without falling asleep, now as soon as the T.V. turns on, I am GONE! It is driving me crazy!!! I just want to watch one show, just one little 30 minute show. Is it possible to develop narcolepsy at 25? I saw this Korean drama once called “Loveholic”, where the main character developed narcolepsy and she falls asleep everywhere she goes, bus stops, work, dates. Is that what is happening to me? Have I watched so many Korean dramas that my life is becoming a mixture of “Star Candy”, “Samsoon” and “Loveholic”? That is it! I think I need so good old American T.V. Is “Lost” still on???