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So today was Dip Day. Last week, sandwiched in between Roscoe’s and Homecoming Assembly, there were just too many distractions for Dip Day to happen. Not the case today.
There were many options, ranging from sour cream, to simple dips, to salsas, to fruit dip (I was an idiot and ate the fruit, not knowing there was a dip for it), to some bean/chorizo/cheese goodness, to taco dip, to guacamole, clam dip, huancaina (it’s Peruvian and served with papa), and spinach artichoke dip which resembled a casserole and was eaten quickly. Some were family recipes, some were just favorites, others were cultural.
Students signed up for this, brought everything necessary, and served themselves. They hung out, talked to one another, asked questions about the dips, finished the dips, had tons of chips left over because they came prepared, and acted like normal folk do when normal folk eat dips.
When it was time for the bell to ring, there was not much clean-up to be done because the dips were eaten and students had already been walking around the room, collecting other students’ trash, and making sure the room was left in good condition.
Oh, there were also poetry presentations during the same period, complete with students memorizing the poems and acting them out accordingly. Both were fun times, but they’ll remember dip day before they remember daffodils in “I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud.”

Hey, perhaps even Wordsworth would have found his “daffodils” in Dip Day.

Welcome Tokuharu HS from Japan. Thanks for coming into my 6th period class and checking out how the American school system works. Perhaps you’ll have some good stories to tell.
After all, you got to point and laugh at me when I stood up. I know, I’m taller and wider than most people you’ve seen. It was especially fun when you kept snickering anytime you got close to me, for it was probably based on our height differences. Good times–I hope you can chuckle at the picture we all took together as a memory of our brief time together.
Too bad you didn’t stick around. You could have seen me teach my students. We talked about their upcoming narrative essays, where there were some really good questions asked about theme. You see, I’m big on theme. I don’t think you should write something unless you have something to say, and that’s sometimes hard to get across to sophomores (and most people). But I think the students who had questions may have understood my answers and will, hopefully, apply it to their upcoming papers.
You also missed the battle of teaching poetry. We read two poems, both being really short. It was hard getting students focused, though, because I had to battle hunger, fatigue, hormones, cell phones, a sunny day, small bladders, chatter, turned backs, lowered heads, headphones, Rubik’s cubes, swiveling chairs, selfies, and Snapchat pictures.
Every day is different in school, that’s for sure. I had leftover pizza yesterday. After my students told me they hadn’t eaten, I let them have this pizza. They stayed after school, heated it in the microwave, and thanked me for the food. I left school wishing I could feed them every day.
But that was yesterday.

Based on my daily, I have a theory about why and how our students do well or poorly in high school. And it’s based on food.
There’s a food hierarchy, if you didn’t know.
1–kids eat with their folks and bring pretty good food to school. Lunch time isn’t always when they eat this food, but it’s usually a nice product.
2–kids eat school food. Ours is your basic cafeteria/red cart food. If you know the ins and outs, you might get some nutrition.
3–kids eat crap. They bring it from home or the local convenience store. Sugar and calories.
4–kids don’t eat. No, really. They do not eat.
Numbers one through three are pretty ordinary, I would think. They have been the norm for quite some time. I was number one, but I would also buy a crappy sugar product here and there. They sold Pepsi in vending machines, and candy/chips/etc. in the student store.
We don’t have a student store. There are a few vending machines, but they don’t have much in them. I rarely see kids eating anything in class anymore, which was not the case when we sold soda and Gatorade in the vending machines, along with snacky items in machines and carts. Granted, kids ate some horrific meals–the Mountain Dew, Grab Bag of Chili Cheese Fritos, and a big cookie were a standard 1500 calorie snack–but there were choices that weren’t so bad. Heck, when I taught at Long Beach Poly, they had a fruit machine that ran out of product every day.
So what’s the excuse for number four? Why don’t kids eat. I asked my 6th period today–“How many of you have not eaten yet today?” About 10 or 12 kids raised their hands. When asked if they were hungry, the kids with raised hands said yes. It was 2:30 at this point in the day.
We are under healthy school restrictions, but there’s still food to eat at school.
If the issue is money, we have free and reduced lunches for any family that claims it. I believe that’s all you have to do to get on the free and reduced lunch list–claim it. In turn, that self-reporting gives students access to fee waivers on college apps, along with AP tests.
I guess I don’t have an answer, but I do know one thing. Students who are fed do better. All the time we spend arguing over how to get students to integrate quotes, or write commentaries, or form common assessments, or whatever, might all be solved with a cheese stick. Or an apple.
Crap. Everyone likes to be fed. I know people who literally get hangry if they’re running low on sustenance. You throw me a donut in the morning, or a breakfast burrito, and I’m a better teacher.
Food gets forgotten in the school equation, or maybe like the rest of us, it just gets lost. But, I know what would happen if I brought good healthy food and put it in front of my students.
Maybe I’ll bring that up at our next PLC or RTI or WASC meeting. We have had so many other learning philosophies of the past that were also turned into acronyms that we have long since stopped talking about, forgotten, and abandoned.
And, where sometimes it’s hard to assess data in our WASC group when there is no data, there should always be a place to get something good to eat.https://youtu.be/5ea5jKFGgUw

I got the same-old question today–are we your best class? It would be the same-old question if a class asked if they were the worst, which they sometimes do.
I’ve taught for 21 years full-time, and put myself through school and bachelorhood while substitute teaching. I student-taught at Gahr High in 1987, taught at Long Beach Poly from 1989 to 1993, taught a semester at Savannah High in the Spring of 1999, and have been at North High since Fall of 1999. Before and during and around some of those stints, I substitute taught in Los Alamitos, Long Beach, ABC (Artesia, Bellflower, Cerritos), Downey, and Paramount. I’ve probably taught every single class there is to teach, at least for a day.
And, yeah, some years are better. Class of 2005? Best class of kids (for APN, at least). Best class period? I had some amazing Creative Writing kids at Long Beach Poly. These were classes filled with PACE kids (some of the best in the district) all the way down to basic English kids. The mixes were so strange, but somehow they worked, in the sense that kids got along and complemented each other. At North High, my best class was a 6th-period Honors Sophomore English class, with 24 girls and 4 guys. That was in 2013 and I was lucky enough to get many of those students again in 2015, when they were seniors. Some of the nicest people I will ever have the pleasure of knowing.
But the bottom line, since I’m sounding nostalgic, is that kids are kids, high school is pain, and most go through that pain together. I told students today that I had seen everything, and I could see their little minds working–what can we do that he hasn’t seen?
Nothing. Just be like my class from years ago and be nice people. That goes for all of you.

There’s a trend in comedy these days–I refer to it as “suffer comedy”–where a character has to “suffer” for it to be funny to an audience. This is not the stuff of Greek Tragedy, where the tragic hero has to take a fall because of his hubris. We’re talking getting hit in the groin with a football, or slipping on vomit, or enduring just about any physical or mental torture.
There’s a worse trend in school. It’s one where students find immediate success at the failure of others. I’ve taught for a number of years and haven’t seen it in such excess as I’ve seen lately.
There was a homecoming assembly today. Your basic assembly–students sang, danced, yelled, and had class competitions. But my student who is in choir, who sang today, told me and our English class that there was another performer who insulted her and choir, saying how bad they were, in an attempt to make himself better by comparison. Two performers–if one insults the other, it must be true and make the attacker the better performer.
But I wasn’t at that assembly, and the performances that garnered insults were cut from the second assembly, which I did attend.
I was in my English class today, though. Students were up and presenting their poetry. One of my students even brought a cajon, which can best be described as a percussive box that performers sit on and hit for a beat. It’s kind of a quieter drum kit in a box that’s probably perfect to accompany an acoustic guitar. Look it up.
What sucks is kids can’t “win” until someone else “loses.” In this case, the “losers” were the ones reading their poems aloud for a little extra credit. I write, and I used to read my writing in certain circles. It’s not the easiest thing–you have an audience judging you, and the last thing you want is to feel like an idiot. But that’s the only way some of my students can win. My students who didn’t even write the poem. Those same students who have no intention of passing the class or doing any work.
The first girl who read was going right along, reading one of those typical rhyming poems that has some cool words and tricky play in it. What? Someone is being clever? That’s when the “winners” pounce with a snicker, a laugh, or a quick derogatory comment. In their worlds it translates to “if I had written a poem AND stood up to read it, my poem would have been better than this.” However, their poem is not better because it does not exist.
It happens all the time these days. It used to happen in my wife’s Speech class, where a quick comment might get the speaker off his/her game and drag down the performance. You lose because of me, so I am better than you, even though I will not get up and do a speech.
The only problem with the argument is that most of the “winners” are F students. They don’t do anything. Olive branch after olive branch is extended to them, they have every chance to do well, but they choose to fail. This reared its head today, and it brought back the memories of my wife’s class and the underlying comments, which means it’s not new behavior.
It’s going to bother me all weekend, yet making them suffer from my end is not what I want either. And my olive branches are running low.

Part One. Last night, I kept checking my email. The Internet was abuzz with a story about North High, where I teach. Stories were circulating, public opinion was high, and local news sources were releasing stories and videos of our school. But no email came early. I had some dinner, helped my kid with his math homework, watched Jeopardy, some episodes of Shipping Wars, graded too many papers, and went to bed rather early. It was around ten, and nothing was in my inbox. This morning I checked again before I left for school since NBC had our story on its crawl. Same deal. Even when I went to school today, I expected the teachers and staff would be called into a school meeting, or a district or school email would have been sent. Nope.
I am not an administrator, and I don’t know their rules or lines of protocol, and I certainly am not envious of the position they find themselves in here; but you would have had to have been under a rock at school today not to know the news tied to North High. And yet, 24 hours after the news crews rolled up on campus, teachers are still in the dark about how to direct questions and inquiries and concerns from others and themselves. It’s front-page news in the South Bay and on social media.
Part Two. The fire alarm went off during lunch. Someone came on the address system to tell us this was “not a drill,” and that we all had to go outside in our designated areas. Well, from what my students told me, and they could be wrong, it was the fog machine in the drama room. Whatever the cause, and I don’t expect to ever be told in an official manner, it made the entire school evacuate outside. Everyone in a similar area because of a fog machine.
Part Three. At the close of the school day, someone came on the address system to warn us that there was a live electrical wire on the ground, and if kids were walking home towards Crenshaw, they would have to take an alternate route.
To me, all three parts are shocking. https://youtu.be/qoqQnR8NOVI

There’s a story about North High that’s being run from KTLA and our local Daily Breeze. I posted something earlier today, but deleted it because I didn’t want to hurt people I respect and admire at my school and in the community. KTLA and the Daily Breeze will do enough of that.
There’s always better news than what’s on TV and in the papers (and now online).
Last night, my teaching partner and I took 35 of our students out to eat at Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles. We teach a class called APN (Alternative Program at North) and have tried to get kids out of their boxes and comfort zones for the last 15 years. Many of our senior students had never eaten at Roscoe’s, so this was a moment for them.
We were there for a couple of hours. We were loud until the food came–then it was business. And even though students were kind of attached to their phones too much, they found the time to talk to one another, laugh, and eat some good food. They asked questions, didn’t know some of the menu items, tried some of those items anyway, and spent two hours away from school, homework, and the real world. We have some pretty great students, and I feel bad for teachers who don’t. But, sometimes, you have to take students out of their worlds to make them better students. We’ve been taking kids to Roscoe’s and other local restaurants for all of our 15 years of teaching APN. It’s not because we like to eat with our students, but we like to eat with our students because there’s never been an issue.
Yeah, one of our students ate like a wild animal and couldn’t go 15 minutes without going outside to smoke.
Okay, maybe some others may not have paid a fair share or anything at all.
Sure, we’ve had to quiet the group down here and there.
My first year at North High I took my seniors out to a pizza place near the end of the year. They were good enough students, but they were awesome there. I recently saw a picture of some of my students there–the owner allowed them to go behind the counter and make pizzas. Once again, though, students just hung out, ate, talked, made fun of one another, and had a good time. As much as I would like them to remember Camus for the absurd nature of life, or that Holden Caulfield’s hunting hat had many positions, those kids will probably remember making pizza behind the counter.
Roscoe’s last night is always the reminder that good food brings out good times, but just bringing yourself out for the good times is sometimes enough. We’re always teaching.

Utopia is a dream.
Thomas More wrote about it long ago. He defined it as a perfect place, give or take a few options like religion, social issues, government, and laws.
Long story short, we’re reading Brave New World with my honors sophomores. It’s one of my favorite books. If you don’t enjoy the novel, or find some common ground with it, there’s probably something the matter with you. I start out by giving the old anticipatory set–a hand-out where they get to design their own baby AND, on the back of the same sheet, get to create their own Utopia. It’s great times for most.
Today, though, when the paper was due, one of my students asked what the point of it was. A valid question. I reminded him that building a baby is what they do in Brave New World. I also reminded him that the characters live in what are considered Utopias, created by controllers for the happiness of the masses. It’s a pivotal part of the book–the scene where John and Mond discuss life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness–and a reader learns that creation takes thought and effort.
Plus, it’s a creative assignment worth a few points before I destroy them with quizzes, tests, writings, and projects. This book is a leap from having the entire novel read to them by their other teachers–we read it quickly (not in class), go back to the text for understanding, and move along after about three weeks. So starting with something creative is, well, creative.
Students had an extra day to do this and weren’t ready today. They were still scribbling at the bell and into the first minutes of the class period. They had the entire weekend to complete a worksheet–singular–where they designed a baby and created a Utopia.
The part they have a hard time with is the philosophies of their Utopia. I ask for five. Five philosophies that your Utopia would live by. I give you a world to create, this is how and what and why you would like things to go down. Simple. I would put bakeries of varying ethnicities on every other corner. Portuguese. German. Asian. Cuban. Bakeries–every other corner. Television would go back to 5 primetime stations so people had something in common to talk about the next day. Same deal with music, where stations would bring people together with a wide mix of music, rather than separating us with homogeneous stations that cater to one audience. You can see the common theme here of bringing people together.
I had two students come in at lunch to finish the paper. They were stuck on this philosophy deal. I told them it was their Utopia; what mores and values would you want people to live by? They didn’t know the answer. So I told them there was no answer, that they can create any world. This was not resonating with them. I told them to think of it as the Ten Commandments, except in their own words. I will not write of the response.
It got to the point where they found the pile of papers that students had turned in from an earlier class. They perused many of them, looking for philosophies of others to fit their Utopias. One could argue that borrowing from others is not a bad idea if others have ideas similar to your own. My argument is that there were no ideas here. Many of my students who turned in a paper for a grade thought it prudent to give NO philosophies and left that part blank. Some just gave two or three.
You can say I’m overreacting, or that this was a stupid assignment. But it still frightens me a little when students have a hard time negotiating a paper that does not have an answer key.
So which is it? Do we give tests with multiple-choice answers to creative kids? At worst, there’s a one-in-four chance. Or do we give creative reign to those who just want answers?
I’m sure some book on teaching has the answer, or is it a creative solution? As for me, I guess I need to find a local Portuguese bakery.

Today is the start of drug week, or drug prevention week (we hope). But I’m not sure it’s an issue anymore. It’s like burning the books in Fahrenheit 451–nobody reads them anyway, so it’s just a form of entertainment for the masses. Don’t start thinking that I’m saying drug week is merely entertainment, but, COME ON, kids have been hearing about this since they were in first and second grade. Most people have been conditioned to stay away from them, at least until college.
We spend a lot of time on drug week, though. Our service club kids present in classes, they have the red ribbons, students sign a paper saying they’ll be drug free, everyone’s supposed to wear red on Thursday–it’s time and effort to reinforce that conditioning. Students today, sadly, don’t get the amazing student films made back in the 70’s to combat drug abuse. You know the ones–straight-A kid gets pressured into smoking weed, he takes one hit and a whole psychedelic trip ensues (complete with music and a moving tye-dye background). Greek tragedy meets afterschool special.
Kids are smarter now. They get that drugs are bad for you, but they also see that their friends (and maybe their parents) don’t always die when they have a glass of wine, or a beer, or some drug. The bottom line is that they’re either going to do drugs, or they won’t. Some students told me today that they will never do them, that drugs are against what they stand for. Bummer, or cool, depending on where you stand. But consider how long drugs have been around, in some form or another–they will continue to be out there, whether prescribed or homegrown or black market.
I appreciate the efforts; I really do. At my kid’s school today, students wore pajamas to “put drugs to sleep.” Nice. However, we have homeless students, and kids who sleep three to a room, and some who don’t eat breakfast or lunch, not to mention food insecurity. Some don’t have reliable Internet, which leads to poor literacy skills. Others take prescription meds, sometimes just to make them docile.
I so want a ribbon of any color to solve all the problems in the world, but it starts with people being realistic about the problem itself.

https://youtu.be/bGpE2oXf0aE

Jimmy is almost as tall as I am. He probably weighs about 200 pounds less. He carries a guitar around North High and likes music. Because my next-door teacher neighbor was out doing silly things at lunch this week, Jimmy ate in my room. I play music in my room at lunch.
Today, it was just me and Jimmy and one of my students doing some work on a Chromebook. I asked, “Jimmy, what do you want to hear?” He didn’t care so I played Black Sabbath’s “Heaven and Hell.” One, I know he likes Sabbath. Two, Dio may not be Ozzy, but “Heaven and Hell” is a pretty awesome seven minutes of 1980 arena rock.
The highlight was that Jimmy played along to the song. We talked Sabbath set lists, Dio kicked ass, and lunch was pretty good, even though Jimmy told me Dio has been dead for six years.
Music is a big deal. Talking with someone who knows that is a big deal, too.
Alright, get your guitars out.