would you like to try the word "buzz"?

this is how i felt today, except i was in billy madison's place and my students were in his teacher's place.  they were not exacting their revenge on me, as billy's teacher was.  they were simply calling out random words for me to write in cursive during our daily 15-minute lesson.  for most adults, 3rd grade teachers, in particular, cursive is no big deal.  for me, however, it is a chore, an inconvenience, and a torturous task.

from 1st grade until the end of 5th grade, i looked forward to the day when i could "test out" of handwriting class and be allowed to write in print if i so desired.  thinking back, that was the silliest thing i've ever heard of. why would someone spend almost five years of their life learning cursive, only to cast it aside, never to be picked up again?  though i loved to look at the elegant arches and loops of my grandmother's writing, cast it aside, i did.  cursive was a hassle, because there was a perfect slant one had to attain, and print was not really an option, because it was so boring.  i had an important decision to make.  i soon settled into a wonderful conglomeration i call "pseudo-cursive".  it's quick and easy to accomplish and keeps your readers ever-guessing if you wrote  'r' or 'v' or 'e' or 'l'.

when i decided to become a teacher, pseudo-cursive stayed with me until i reached that class where we all had to complete a zaner bloser correspondence penmanship course.  it was several weeks long and was not what a 21year old girl wanted to be doing at night.  i survived without having to resubmit my work because it was "too sloppy".  i took pride in that, especially when i saw the cattiest girl in the program check her mail and gasp when she realized she had not done her best work and would subsequently be a week behind.

soon afterward, cursive became something i did only when instructing my students in this dying art.  that leads us back to today...

like billy madison, Zs get me.  Fs and Ts do too.  i don't have the patience.  for some strange reason, one of the kids asked me to write the name zane on the board during cursive time.  it was all i could do to keep it together to scribe that four-letter word.  i did it, nonetheless, but in my mind, i was thinking, "i hate cursive and i hate all of you!  i'm never coming back to school!  NEVER!"

once the lesson came to a close, i was back to my normal, pseudo-cursive-writing self and will be until 10:00 tomorrow morning.

the greatest lie i ever told

this week was the dreaded ACTAAP...the arkansas benchmark test...the monster that occupies 3rd-8th grade teachers' dreams from august to mid-april.  this was my 6th year administering this assessment and it never gets easier or more fun- unless walking around for four hours four (or five) days a week sans iphone is your cup of tea...  


come monday morning, my class had a serious case of ants in their pants.  that first day of testing was a nightmare, with students failing to use the silent signals i had spent all year teaching.  


"MY PENCIL BROKE!" 
"I'M HAVING ALLERGIES!"  
"DO I USE THIS SPACE AS SCRATCH PAPER!?!"


even with gentle reminders, these kids just weren't getting it.  i had to come up with something to steer their focus back to the task at hand.  unfortunately, my great epiphany did not appear until 8:19 tuesday morning, a mere 11 minutes before testing officially commenced.  i suddenly felt the need to moisturize my hands, so i turned to my favorite lotion, which had been a gift from a student this christmas.  as i squeezed a dime-sized dollop onto my palm and slathered it on, i was instantly enveloped in pomegranate-infused calm.  that's when it hit me!


i immediately went to carson, the coolest and cutest boy in my class and whispered, 


"hey, dude, i have some magical testing lotion for you.  it'll calm your nerves and help you not leave any answers blank.  tell everyone at your table."


he eagerly nodded, held out his hands, and leaned over to his elbow buddy to give her my message.


i made my way to each table and planted the secret to success in the ear of the most influential student in the group. pretty soon, everyone wanted just a tiny bit of this miracle elixir.  by the next day, 3rd graders stopped by my classroom because miss ellis' magical testing lotion had been the talk of the turf at recess.


i'm not going to say testing was perfect.  it never is.  one or two kids didn't finish a couple of multiple choice sections and a couple others decided to use their pencils as drumsticks.  what i remembered this week is that sometimes we all need a little encouragement to keep us going or even to get us started on a daunting task.  though a bit of hand lotion may seem trivial to an adult, it certainly reenergized 20 little test-takers and made their teacher smile 3 out of 4 test days!  considering the success of this experiment, i wonder if bath & body works would repackage "be enchanted" with my picture on it?