in preparation to be a teacher i need to be exposed to these kind of matters – schOols & kiDs
While reviewing math symbols with my second-grade pupils, I drew a greater-than (>) and a less-than (<) sign on the chalkboard and asked,
“Does anyone remember what these mean?” I asked the class.
A few moments passed, and then a boy confidently raised his hand.
“One means fast-forward,” he exclaimed, “and the other means rewind!”
As an instructional assistant for a public school, part of my job involves teaching small groups of children. One day I was in charge of some second-graders, who were concentrating on their artwork. As I reached across to help a student, he remarked that something smelled good. I was pleased that he noticed my perfume, until he held a wide felt-tip pen up to his nose, and the student then said, “Yep. New markers.”
During our computer class, the teacher chastised one boy for talking to the girl sitting next to him.
“I was just asking her a question,” the boy said.
“If you have a question, ask me,” the teacher tersely replied.
“Okay,” he answered. “Do you want to go out with me Friday night?”
Early one morning, a mother went in to wake up her son. “Wake up, son. It’s time to go to school!”
“But why, Mom? I don’t want to go.”
“Give me two reasons why you don’t want to go.”
“Well, the kids hate me for one, and the teachers hate me, too!”
“Oh, that’s no reason not to go to school. Come on now and get ready.”
“Give me two reasons why I should go to school.”
“Well, for one, you’re 52 years old. And for another, you’re the Principal!”
The college football player knew his way around the locker room better than he did the library. So when the teacher saw the gridiron star roaming the stacks looking confused, she asked how she could help.
“I have to read a play by Shakespeare,” he said.
“Which one?” she asked.
He scanned the shelves and answered, “William.”
Custom at Duquesne University dictated that if a professor was ten minutes late, class was canceled. One professor arrived early for a 9 a.m. lecture. He placed his hat on his desk, and went to the faculty room. Before he knew it, it was 9:10. By the time he got back to his classroom, it was empty. The next day, he let his students have it. “When my hat is here,” he fumed, “I’m here!”
The following day, the professor arrived at 9 a.m. He was met by the sight of 28 hats on 28 desks — and no students.
Apparently I tend to brag too much about my home state of Ohio. One day I told my students, “You know, the first man in powered flight was from Ohio. The first man to orbit the earth was from Ohio. And the first man on the moon was from Ohio.”
“Sounds like a lot of people are trying to get out of Ohio,” one of the students observed.
I was a percussion major when I was in college, and during a rehearsal of the student orchestra, my section kept making mistakes.
“When you’re too dumb to play anything,” the professor conducting us sneered, “they give you a couple of sticks, put you in the back and call you a percussionist.”
A friend next to me whispered, “And if you’re too dumb to hang on to both sticks, they put you in the front and call you a conductor.”
During the college speech course I taught, I spoke about a Chinese student who, after moving to the United States, decided she wanted an English name to honor her new home.
“She chose the name Patience,” I told the class, “because she wanted to be reminded to be patient. Every time someone called her name, the message was reinforced.”
I asked the students what names they would select for themselves.
After considering the question, this one student raised his hand and said, “Rich.”
My father began teaching business classes at the local community college. On his first night of class, he started a chapter on banking. During the course of his lecture, the subject of ATMs came up, and he mentioned that, on average, most machines contain only about $1,500 at a given time.
Just then a student in the back raised his hand. “I’m not trying to be disrespectful,” he told my father, “but the machine I robbed had about $5,000 in it.”
Being a teenager and getting a tattoo seem to go hand and hand these days. I wasn’t surprised when one of my students showed me a delicate little Japanese symbol on her hip.
“Please don’t tell my parents,” she begged.
“I won’t,” I promised. “By the way, what does that stand for?”
“Honesty,” she said.
Rodents had overrun a posh private school near New York City. So the headmaster, a friend of mine, asked a health inspector to deliver a slide presentation to teachers and students, showing how to remedy the situation.
The following day, a teacher had her very young children write a letter to the inspector, thanking him for the visit. One of the students wrote, “Dear Mr. Johnson, Thank you for coming to my school. Until I saw you, I didn’t know what a rat looked like.”
see?? am i gonna face all these?…
(: (: (: