Back to My German Roots

I don't know how it happened and I have no idea how to stop it, but for about the last year, I have been receiving periodic newsletters from a German company.

About a year ago I received an email that was all in German that was confirming an order in my name. I was a bit concerned when I got it since I hadn't made any online purchases recently and I confess I have never actually turned to the German market to satisfy my needs. I cut and pasted the type into freetranslation.com and saw that three bras had been purchased. They were not cheap before the exchange rate and I could only imagine the damage to my account that could be ensuing. As I checked my with my bank I thought, 'Those had better be some freaking nice bras' but no money had been taken out so I then concluded this email was sent in error and promptly forgot about it (a clearly traumatizing experience). Then a couple weeks later I got the first newsletter. I figured it was just another sent-in-error thing and disregarded it. A year later, the emails haven't stopped and honestly, I can't say I mind.

I thought about it a little and remembered that my name is very Germanic. First and last, I would fit right into any German mailing list like Sally Hansen fits on an American one. So I am pretty sure that I am receiving some German Erika's email.

The content changes from time to time, it was make up for a long time, lately it has been clothing. I would love to tell you more, but I only look at the pictures seeing as I don't speak a lick of German save pleasantries after someone sneezes or opens a door for you.

Anyway, I have started to look forward to receiving these emails for reasons I am not sure of myself. I see the German subject line and skim over the email and then trash it, but they make me smile every time. I found one waiting for me this morning and I just had to share it.

Be sure to check out about halfway down where the girl in a black coat lets us know it's 'cool to be warm!'. Nothing like an English tag line to spice up a German advertisement.

Slackers, Sabotage and Seating Charts

Think back to when you were in public school. Did you ever walk into class sit down just to find out that your teacher randomly changed the seating chart? That all of the sudden you would have to get used to a whole new view of the classroom, new people around you and struggle to remember what new seat you are now in?

That was not just happenstance folks. That was teacher sabotage.

Today at school the kids could not shut up. If they weren't keeping the entire class updated on their every move, they were calling out every thought that entered their mind. Noise, noise, noise all day long, no matter how many times we called their attention to us, it was gone again after one sentence. So, my cooperating teacher and I sat down together after school and hand-crafted an entire new seating chart for every class.

It was so satisfying.

Again, think back to your middle school days, do you remember that girl with the perma-tude? What about that boy that was super obliviously awkward? Or that one with the dumb jokes that would talk to a wall if no one was by him? Or that girl who gives you a play-by-play of her mental process? What about all those anomalies that make middle school what it is? 

Perma-tude, you now sit by Play-by-Play girl. Wall talker, meet Obliviously Awkward. Other boy who won't be quiet, say hello to Won't-talk-for-the-life-of-her-Asian-girl. Annoying boy, you're now surrounded by three girls. Needy student by teachers desk, you're across the room now because we don't need you to talk to us every time we sit down. Oh you're best friends? Not in my class.

All it took was the simple click of a button, a rearrangement of their six grade pictures and instant happiness ensued. Sweet Victory.

Of course we also broke up some potential bullying hot-spots, kept together friends that work well together and genuinely fixed the seating chart so it'll improve the environment overall. But trust me when I say, I am super excited to see the looks on some of their faces when they get their new table mate. 

As the teacher, we will assign the new seats as though it was run of the mill, nothing big and nothing personal while the student complain they are no longer by their friends. We will look at them blankly like we didn't even notice we broke up such a strong bond when really it's a series of mental celebratory fist pumps and a sense reinstating control. 

Maybe that'll teach you.

Chess. A Seventh Graders Nemesis.

Roughly 85% of seventh graders don't know how to play chess. Cue monologue.

There I am, standing the back of a full computer lab while my little sevies take a reading placement test. Like any sensible teacher, we let the students play chess on the computer once they have completed the exam in order to maintain the zero talking rule. I think nothing of it. Chess is common knowledge right? Comes with the territory of...life doesn't it? It's a big brothers, fathers or grandfathers duty to teach everyone in their family how to play...am I right?

Apparently not.

I first notice a young lady trying to move a pawn all the way across the board, to no avail. Then she tried to move the knight to the places the pawn couldn't go. Again, no avail. Then the rook and you guessed it, the rook cannot jump diagonally across the entire opposing team of pieces. Finally she gets the pawn to move forward one. I watch in amusement and a little disbelief. 'She really has no idea how to play' keeps running through my mind. Then I pan out and look at other kids playing chess with the same random, nonsensical moves.

'My gosh, these kids have no idea how to play chess.'

This happened period after period.

I wanted so badly to go to the the board and diagram the 'L' the knight moves in, show that the bishop only goes diagonally and the rook only straight. That pawns are the ones to sacrifice. That the king is basically an invalid and the queen has all the power! Sadly, that would have been way over their heads. I did see some of them rocking their games of chess, maneuvering and strategizing as much as a twelve year old knows how to, which did make me feel better about their generation, but then I'd see an entire row of students essentially reenacting the French Revolution with team computer as the guillotine.

I quietly reminisced about those afternoons I learned and played chess in my brothers room because I was the only one who would play with him. Who cares if I'm not actually sure if to this day I have won a game ever, at least I can explain it.

In other seventh grade news, the realization hit that cursive will never be mandatory again and we couldnt care less what color pen you use. Also, please don't ask me if you can go blow your nose, I'd rather not be made aware of your sinus congestion. Go ahead and clear it out as necessary. Tissues are made available for your convenience.