The highlights of my week:
-Telling my second period class that Chelsie had beat James on the test by 1/2 a point (she made a perfect 105, he made a 104.5). Chelsie is brilliant, but she gives up on everything. She once erased her name from a test and turned it in blank because she just "didn't get it". She laughed at me when I told her that I think Stoichiometry is really fun. But then she practiced it. And she got it all. Seeing 3 pages of perfectly worked out problems on her test was a beautiful sight. And watching her smile as everyone looked at her in amazement, because no one ever thinks of Chelsie as the "smart one", was truly a great moment.
-Hearing Mark and Stephanie complain to me for taking points off because of sig figs, then watching them complain to Luke, who made a perfect score with perfect sig figs. "We weren't told to use sig figs," they complained. He looked at them like they were crazy, "We ALWAYS have to worry about sig figs!" he said. That's my boy, Luke. That is my boy.
-Watching Jenna bounce into my classroom. I love this girl, and I love the spring in her step as she comes into class, excited to tell me about the newest "Anne" book that she has read.
(What is up with blogger? The layout and options have been ghetto all week.)
-Telling my second period class that Chelsie had beat James on the test by 1/2 a point (she made a perfect 105, he made a 104.5). Chelsie is brilliant, but she gives up on everything. She once erased her name from a test and turned it in blank because she just "didn't get it". She laughed at me when I told her that I think Stoichiometry is really fun. But then she practiced it. And she got it all. Seeing 3 pages of perfectly worked out problems on her test was a beautiful sight. And watching her smile as everyone looked at her in amazement, because no one ever thinks of Chelsie as the "smart one", was truly a great moment.
-Hearing Mark and Stephanie complain to me for taking points off because of sig figs, then watching them complain to Luke, who made a perfect score with perfect sig figs. "We weren't told to use sig figs," they complained. He looked at them like they were crazy, "We ALWAYS have to worry about sig figs!" he said. That's my boy, Luke. That is my boy.
-Watching Jenna bounce into my classroom. I love this girl, and I love the spring in her step as she comes into class, excited to tell me about the newest "Anne" book that she has read.
(What is up with blogger? The layout and options have been ghetto all week.)
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