1.) Send a note to the secretary to see who's available to cover;
2.) Hide anything interesting in my classroom;
3.) Track down two reliable students from my afternoon classes to serve as student aides for the unfortunate ATR who had the pleasure of covering my classes;
4.) Figure out how to get the computer lab keys returned;
5.) Post incredibly detailed instructions on the whiteboard for my students to cope in my absence;
6.) Print extra copies of seating charts and handout; and
7.) Be on my cell phone to my doctor begging for an appointment WHILE trying to explain the relationship between a claim and a counterclaim to a confused but dogged young lady rewriting an essay for the third time.
Well, nevertheless, I made it out the door, fretting, as usual, about what would happen in my absence. As it turns out, I didn't need to fret. When I spoke to my student aides, one excitedly asked me, "But can I scream?"
5.) Post incredibly detailed instructions on the whiteboard for my students to cope in my absence;
6.) Print extra copies of seating charts and handout; and
7.) Be on my cell phone to my doctor begging for an appointment WHILE trying to explain the relationship between a claim and a counterclaim to a confused but dogged young lady rewriting an essay for the third time.
Well, nevertheless, I made it out the door, fretting, as usual, about what would happen in my absence. As it turns out, I didn't need to fret. When I spoke to my student aides, one excitedly asked me, "But can I scream?"
"Um, what?" I asked.
"Can I scream," she said. "You know, if they're not doing their work. Can I yell at them and tell them to do it?"
"Oh sure," I assured her, much, I imagine, to the chagrin of my colleague next door. "Scream away."
Whatever she did must have worked, because I got a nice note from the sub and an e-mail box full of work that the students sent me.
Awwwwww.