Peavine Princesses

The beautiful young women of Peavine Mountain Ward.

Girls' Camp 2011

Dedicated to the girls of the Peavine Mountain ward. :D

Wherefore art thou pizza?

I asked my students today to write about something that people don't appreciate or care for as much as they should. Most students listed things like the environment or their health.

One student seemed to ponder this question for quite a while, his face screwed up in heavy concentration. Excited by such effort, I eagerly grabbed his folder after class to see what he wrote.

"I think people should care about pizza. Pizza does so much for you and people don't care. If cars ran on pizza they would run better."

He got a ten out of ten.

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One of my more interesting students (the one that flashed the entire class a few months ago) called out to me in the middle of our period and said, "Hey Ms. Warren, look over here!"

I looked over to his table and screamed in panic, because his hand was on fire. I was super confused because he seemed to be enjoying his spontaneous combustion (it usually ruins my day)

Turns out, he was spraying his hand with opious amounts of cologne, then setting it ablaze with his lighter.

While the pryomaniac in me was super impressed and a little tempted to try it myself, I found myself pulling a responsible adult by taking his lighter away and trying to convince him that setting our classroom on fire would be a bad thing in the long run.

Good times, good times.

Tired, tired and then ... HUZZAH!

Right now, everyone I know is tired. Tired of school. Tired of winter. Tired of the same ol'-ness of everyday life. Tired, tired, tired.

Getting my students motivated to learn when I am so pooped is a bit of a predicament. I was awfully tempted to propose nap time to my 5th period class today and they probably would have been all over it. (I resisted- I hear they frown on "nap time" in the 9th grade)

Thankfully, Someone upstairs loves me and has sent little golden nuggets of enthusiasm to keep me going.

Here are some of my favorites:

"Duty" and Public Indecency

One of my least favorite aspects of my job is "Duty." Just the name inspires spontaneous combustion via boredom. I was just noting that to my fellow "duty" sufferer when a student ran down the hall wearing a penguin outfit, closely followed by two students wearing nothing but neon blue spandex undies and rollerblades. I spent the next five minutes busting up as I watched them evading the police officers on campus. If something like that happened everyday, duty would cease to be so dull and we would also have to rename it to something with more pizzazz, like "cackle to yourself for 30 minutes" or "public indecency 101."

News stories and "Holy cow, he actually did something!"

I ask my students to write a paragraph every day and sometimes the topics are less than inspiring. Today, however, I was amazed at how engaged they were by the topic. I had them watch a Reuters video online about the tsunami situation in Japan. The students asked question after question about the impact of this event. They pondered together about how to help show the people in Japan their support. And one of my students, who is failing for never having completed an assignment, wrote me an extensive response to this video. This experience warmed the cockles of my heart.

Dumbfounded

In my fifth period class the other day, my students started to have a heated argument about how boring my class is compared to other freshman classes ... in front of me. I pointed out to them that this might not be the smartest idea, considering brownie points and that quarter grades due next week. They seemed dumbfounded, like this had never even occurred to them before. My unexpected happy moment came when one of my students defended my class as his absolute favorite. It was unexpected because I am pretty sure he doesn't care for me (considering that he told me , "I hate you and I wanna key your car" only last week). So, my class isn't the most boring for at least one student .... HUZZAH!!!

One of the joys of teaching English is the occasional opportunity to strut your stuff and show your kids just how amazing a writer you actually are.


For our writing prompt for Valentine's Day, I gave a mini lesson on the arts and subtleties of how to write a love letter.


As I am not currently in a relationship, I modeled with the following:

O' how I love thee,

Let me count the ways.

You liven up my salads,

And you brighten up my days.

I love you when you're Cheddar,

I love you when you're Swiss,

And when too poor to find you,

Your savor I do miss.

Please never leave my side

As long as I do live.

Forever and for always

All my love to you I'll give."

I think they finally appreciate just how cool I am now.

14 months and 8 pencils later....

As the stress in my life has increased exponentially in the last few months, I have retreated to one of my greatest sources of solace: drawing. While I love drawing all sorts of people, there is a special joy that comes in drawing scenes from the Savior's life.
It may sound silly, but I have an affection for my drawings a little bit like unto a parent's love for a child. I created them and watched them grow under my watchful care. As each of the following are gifts for other people, I will see them go with a mixture of emotions. There will be the sorrow of parting, but also that joy in knowing that something you made will, hopefully, bring something special to other people's lives.


*The Shepherd. I love this drawing, because of the joy you see in the shepherd's face as he tends his flock. This drawing is for my New Testament institute teacher, as thanks for re-engaging my mind and heart in the scriptures.

*The classic Savior as the shepherd. This will go to my friend for her wedding, as a reminder that in marriage, as in all else, the Savior will guide us through the trials that beset us.

*This is my absolute favorite drawing I have ever done, in part because it is the one that took me the longest. The drawing is quite large, standing at 3 1/2 by 3 feet, which I thought was fitting to depict such a lovely scene in the scriptures. It took my 14 months to complete.

The picture shows us a father desperate to heal his son. He asks the Savior to heal the boy and is given a profound reply. All things are possible to him that believeth, the Savior tells him. When the man declares that he believes, the Savior admonishes him with a glance. The father then begs, "help thou my unbelief." In the end, the boy's health is restored. Sometimes I feel down on myself for my lack of faith, skill, boldness, etc. Instead of resigning ourselves to failure, we all have the option of asking the Lord to help us find what we lack.

*note: None of these are original drawings. They are all my own artistic representation of another artist's work and I do not hold any of the credit for myself, neither am I advertising them for sale.

College apps ... for someone else

So, my amazing and wonderful little sister Felicity is applying for college scholarships. While she was able to whip out her essays on goals and activities lickety-split, her essay about how wonderful she is was a little more challenging.

So, I decided to give her a few ideas. These are what I came up with. Let me know which you think would have been the most successful, had she allowed me to write her essay for her.

1. When my mother and father met at BYU, they had no idea what a hottie they had in the making ... ME! It took them three tries and fifteen years to create the perfection that I embody. After all that effort, I decided to leave heaven just long enough to grace them with my presence.

Sunday Musings: Love and Covenants

Photo from stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Tina2/tag/canada/

Today we had a special meeting at church called a ward conference. During one of the interactive lessons, the gentleman teaching brought up the topic of covenants, which are two-way promises we make with God. He asked us how keeping covenants affects our relationship with our Heavenly Father.

As I pondered this question, I thought about the things that make a big difference in my relationship with my own parents. One of the factors that made the biggest difference in our relationship was my moving back home for a few months. Coming home, and while here, choosing to be home instead of always going out are the ways I show my parents that I love them, that I choose them over other people's company. I have activites virtually every night of the week and on those rare occasions when I do not go out, they express being overjoyed.

I thought about that in relation to covenants. Our Heavenly Father asks us to make covenants because He knows that they are exactly what we need to make it home to Him, to survive the wear and tear of this life. By choosing to keep these covenants, we are showing Him that we want to go home, that we are striving to make it back to His presence so that we can live as a family once more.

By maintaining this attitude when it comes to covenants, I think it will be easier for us to transcend mere duty and make love our motivating factor for following our Heavenly Father's commandments.

Mwahahahaha, I am finals' week, hear me roar!

It's Finals Week, and can I just say- writing finals for other people to take is so much more fun than taking them yourself. There is this sadistic little joy in it, which I tried really, really hard not to enjoy ... too much.

I had my kids write a paragraph about a topic of their choice and wouldn't you know it, some of the kids that I thought didn't know how to write at all actually gave me fabulous paragraphs. Now I just have to figure out how to convince them to write that well all the time, and they'll be golden.

I was pleasantly surprised and often amused by some of the responses I got. Here are a few of my favorites.

Prompt about your favorite person:

"If you think I'm crazy by myself, well then just wait until you see me and my couzin together. Were wild monkeys going crazy over their bananas."

"When I left I started to cry so much, I made a swimming pool in the room."


Prompt about how to teach someone to play a sport:

"When you throw a football, you flick your arm like you were flicking a booger."


Prompt about a favorite trip:

"After about four rides I threw up. I had a blast!" (I don't think he was meaning to be puny, but I absolutely love how this one turned out)

I love grading my students' paragraphs, because they show a depth and a sincerity that often does not show through their hardened, high school facade. It gives me hope that they are diamonds in the rough, and with a little polishing they will turn out well in the end.

Music Mania

I have read numerous articles in past years expressing concern that kids just aren't learning musical instruments as much anymore. Money, opportunity and interest all play a factor in the decrease in musicality in the modern generation.

I was chatting with some of my students today and I asked them what instruments they played.

"Aw, Ms. Warren, my parents made me learn violin," complained one student.

"I studied cello for years," explained another.

"My parents spent a lot of money to get me Rock Bank," stated a student. "I have been really practicing for the last few years and I think I'm getting really good."

Hey, why bother learning real guitar when you can just bust out your skills in a video game?

A polychromatic day

One of my school kids told a funny joke to me today. "Ms. Warren, where would gangsters live in a jacket?" he asked.

"I don't know, the pocket?" I responded.

"Nope, in da hood!" he quipped.

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Although it's only been eight short years since I graduated from high school, I can still see a drastic changes in the social scene from when I went.

I went to a high school in northern California that had students from 28 different countries. The demographics were broken down roughly into a third caucasian, a third Hispanic and a third of everything else mixed together. There wasn't much contention between the different groups. In fact, there was hardly mixing of the groups at all. Everyone kind of kept to themselves.

At lunch, your race generally determined where you would ate- Hispanics munched in the cafeteria, Polynesians and African Americans dominated the quad, Asians lived it up in the AP classrooms and the white people ate pretty much everywhere else. That division of races was often reflected in every aspect of the social scene.

One day in the 11th grade, I went to the cafeteria because my Latina friend from church had invited me to sit with her during lunch. I still remember my feeling of discomfort as I walked across that seemingly endless cafeteria to where she sat, with a hundred pairs of eyes boring into me. While no one seemed angry about my presence in the room, it seemed like they couldn't figure out why I was there. I felt so awkward that I never attempted to cross that boundary again.

My first day of my teaching position at a local high school in Nevada, I felt taken aback by how those boundaries and barriers of race were being torn down. I noticed dozens of mixed-race couples strolling hand-in-hand down the halls. I observed groups of friends that were like kaleidoscopes of different colors.

Of course, I still see evidence of those walls on a daily basis. I hear more racial slurs uttered in a single class period than in an episode of the George Lopez show. One day at lunch, we had a school-wide brawl between "the Rednecks and the Mexicans." The entire school turned out for the fight and the administration had to ring the bell 15 minutes early to break it up.

I am excited for the changes I am seeing as I see those racial boundaries coming down. I only hope that we can keep moving in a direction that pulls us together instead of further wedging us apart.

More good in the hood

Today my students wrote a prompt about what they would do in the case of a natural disaster. I told them I expected a strong first sentence and some really good details. My favorite response: "I would knock over a 7-11 and get some munchies. I would get RC Cola and some chips. Then I would steal a car and head for Mexico." The prompt was decorated with lovely drawing of 'shrooms.

Ah, our future is in good hands.

Musings of a high school teacher

In October of last year, I took over a literacy class for freshmen at a local high school. The previous teacher had something of a nervous breakdown caysed by the behavioral issues in the class. Every teacher or adminstrator I ran into before starting the job gave me this look that said, "poor thing, it was nice knowing you" accompanied by an affectionate parting pat on the arm. One person even went so far as to say, "doom doom!" I had just watched the fabulous film "Freedom Writers" and was confident that I, too, could make all the kids like me, solve all their personal problems, and look as good as Hillary Swank in the process. Ah, the sweet naivete of one about to be thrown into a den of lions.

I inherited a naturally wild bunch who were used to free reign and disrespecting ... well, everything and everyone.

As I have acquired the skills and learned the plans for fighting in that great battlefield known as teaching, I have had some interesting experiences. Here are some of my favorites:

I have to explain to my kids, down to the minutest of details, exactly what I expect of them. "Yes, I DO expect you to fill out your workbook." "No, I DO NOT want you to pick your nose and wipe it on the girl next to you." "Yes, coming is required to pass the class."

Each day, they are required to put their books and folders into a hanging file in a metal cabinet. And every day, I have to threaten, plead, beg and bribe them to do it properly. At the end of the day, all my labors are usually rewarded with a drawer stuffed full of chaos- folders mixed up, books jammed into the back, things ripped apart.

One day, I opened up the drawer for fourth period and could only stare with my mouth gaping open. It was unbelievable- it was neat, orderly and every folder was in alphabetical order. I swore that for just a moment, I could hear choirs of angels singing. (although, it might have just been my Pandora playing in the background) I quickly sent up some thoughts of gratitude to heaven, for I knew that only higher powers could produce such a miracle.

One of my more difficult students has trouble keeping things from dropping- his grades, his test scores, his pants. One day he received notice to go to the office post haste to have his picture taken for the yearbook. As he sauntered out of the classroom, I asked him to make sure to pull up his pants, and then I closed the door behind him. A minute passed, then the student surprised all of us by flinging open the door, mooning the classroom, then running down the hall like a bat out of heck.

I'll admit it- I burst out laughing. What else could I do? I tried in vain to get the class back on task for the last fifteen minutes of class, but after having "the incident" it was really hard to go back to thinking about double negatives. So I let them have some free time and went back to my desk, giggling to myself about my interesting life.

My fourth period class is often pretty rowdy and it takes forever for them to get settled down for our ten minutes of reading time every day. Even after we get things settled, there is always that one kid that becomes fascinated with his own ability to make convincing cat noises, the student performing a STOMP audition with a pencil on his desk, or my personal favorite- the ever-flatulent boy doing a tuba impression in the back of the room. (I make sure in every seating change that he stays right where he is- on the opposite end of the room.)

As I was typing up some assignments during their reading time one day, I noticed that there was something amiss and I couldn't quite figure out what it was. Finally, it dawned on me- they were quiet. As I looked around in amazement, I realized that every single student was completely absorbed in reading their book. For some of these kids, it might be the longest uninterrupted period of time they have ever read a book.

It is moments like these that keep me from screaming "Adios muchachos!" flinging away my badge, and running down the hall, cackling maniacally at my joy of never again having to deal with another obnoxious teenager.

I told one my kids today that I used to have a twin, but that she was evil and I killed her. The student looked at me in horror and didn't seem to believe it when I told her I was kidding. I guess I need to keep the sarcasm on the DL until I have older, or more cynical students.

I often wonder if my school kids like me at all. My mother, a veteran in the teaching trenches, told me not to worry about it. She explained that fear is more essential in classroom management than friendliness and being liked. But I can't help but wonder all the same.

There is a good chance I will be replaced by a more certified teacher in two weeks. One of my students asked me if I knew whether I would be staying around next semester and I told him my chances looked bleak. I half expected him to jump on the desk, yell "woo hoo!" and do a victory dance. Much to my surprise, however, he actually looked crestfallen and declared they they would stage a protest if I was not rehired. That made me grin the rest of the day. And it didn't hurt his chances of getting a decent grade either.

I wish there was an "Overheard in the Classroom" Web site for all of the funny things that are said at school. Today I attended a weekly meeting for the English department of our high school and all of the teachers were comparing funny stories. One comment in particular really stood out. "This has actually been a pretty calm, uninteresting year. I mean, no one has even tried to light my desk on fire yet!" If that is truly the standard for a boring year, then I think perhaps teachers are more hardcore than we give them credit for.

I am truly grateful for all of the experiences I have had thus far as a high school teacher. While the first words that come to mind about this job are exhausting, frustrating, demanding, and exhausting, there is also a satisfaction that I have rarely known in my work. And I stand in awe of the amazing teachers and staff who give their lives in educating these great kids.