Sometimes my students’ artwork is pretty much super scary. December 9, 2010Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany.
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Self-Portrait by Jamecia, age 10 BUT CAN THE UNDEAD REALLY BE SAID TO HAVE AN AGE? You decide.
Is it just me… December 2, 2010Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany.
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…or does this excerpt from this week’s newsletter sound like something, um, *other* than your expected innocent elementary school holiday song & dance program will be happening at next week’s PTA meeting?
“The Chorus, conducted by Mr. Music, will deliver festive songs that will tingle your holiday senses and the Dance Ensemble, directed by Ms. Dance, will deliver an enticing visual treat!”
Cranky clouds! December 1, 2010Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany.
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by Zayd, age 5.
A Twofer November 23, 2010Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany.
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Today, 4th grade:
Jeffery, to his table at large: “Put those pencils AWAY! You do not want to know what some people will do with some pencils.”
Yes, I asked for clarification, but apparently it’s something entirely too complex or taboo to even say. Jeffery has opted to let your imaginations take it from here.
And then, kindergarten:
Taylor: “I like your hair.”
Self: “Thank you, sweetheart. I love your hair, too.”
Cameron (decidedly male, as far as I can tell, but it’s not as though I’ve checked, of course): “Me too! Because I was a girl, when I was a baby.”
Self: “Wait, you what-now?”
Cameron: “Yes! When I was a baby I was a little tiny girl but now I growed up into a boy this size [size indicated by hand held parallel to floor, significantly below actual height of Cameron, supposed-boy].”
Morale Booster December 3, 2009Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany, Role Models.
So, I have this art song.
It’s dorky and we don’t need to get into it, okay, but my kindergartners positively worship it and want to sing it over & over. Today I eventually got sick of it, so someone offered to sing a song she made up (LOVE five-year-olds. Sometimes).
Ms. Art is the best art teacher
Because sometimes she puts people in time-ouuuuuut
She is so nice
She is so pretty and good and I like her hairrrrrr…
Nice that she thinks of time-out as an indicator of my educational prowess, because usually to me it means I’ve failed to derail a situation before it escalated. And anyway, my hair looked weird today.
Um, no. Thanks for that, though. February 11, 2009Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany.
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Kelsy, a 5th grader who is REALLY old enough to know better: “Ms. Art, in a couple of years, I’m gonna come back and visit you. If you’re not retired yet.”
“In a couple of years? I won’t be retired, honey. I won’t even be thirty.”
“You’re not already thirty?!?! Wow!”
This story goes nicely (or cruelly, depending on how you look at it) with the five (at least) kindergarteners and first graders who have recently asked if my student teacher is my daughter.
“Do I look old enough to be her mother?!”
Or, it’s a flesh-eating virus. Ew, don’t touch me. November 21, 2008Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany.
Dakota approached me at the sink while I was trying to clean up fourth grade’s paintbrushes, looking deeply concerned.
In a hushed, grave voice: “Ms. Art. What is happening to my skin?”
Self, taking in the dusting of hot pink on the back of his hand: “It looks like you got a little chalk pastel on you.” Granted, they hadn’t used pastels, but in an art room, it’s not exactly unlikely that you’ll run across some kind of smudgeable material. I can’t wear any of my school pants in public. None.
Self: “It was probably under your table or something.”
He walks off and is back in under a minute. “Can I rinse my hand off?”
Self: “It’ll seriously probably brush right off. But, sure.”
Dakota, rinsing hand: *GIANT SIGH OF RELIEF* “All right! I’m good! Thanks, Ms. Art. Serious.:”
How to fail at teaching tolerance November 21, 2008Posted by Ms. Art in Darndest Things, Perplexing Miscellany.
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Kareem [re: Robert, a fourth-grader, who was a touch wound-up and running around headbutting people outside]: “Uh, Ms. Art. Is he…special?”
Self, drily: “Evvverybody’s special, Kareem. I’m special, you’re special, (your teacher) is special, (the principal) is special…”
Kareem, oblivious to subtlety: “No, I mean like…special. Like, can’t talk, picking through the garbage cans…”
Self: “Wait, garbage cans?!”
Kareem: “Never mind.”
Somebody get Hallmark on the phone September 23, 2008Posted by Ms. Art in Darndest Things, Perplexing Miscellany.
So, the PTA asked me to have my art club design some notecards they could have printed up & sell as a fundraiser.
I tried to explain to the kids that they wanted generic cards that didn’t have to be for any particular holiday or occasion, but somehow, that came across as “cards for completely obscure occasions that many people will never experience”.
My favorite one? Glad you asked. Justice cut out a wavy line and added spikes and a head. She explained that this was a card to give someone to welcome them to your family, “like if your cousin gets married”. The message?
“Look at your worm!
It’s posiness plus it’s a funky worm,
but you can touch me
Because I’m your family.”
This one’s for you, Colin September 10, 2008Posted by Ms. Art in Perplexing Miscellany.
Dakota is a New Kid, and he’s a Funny New Kid, so I like him. And will keep him.
Dakota: “Jack. You got a brother?”
Dakota: “UGH! Ms. Art. You got a brother?”
Dakota: “Okay. Ball up your fist.”
Dakota, grazing my knuckles with his: “Say, ‘I love my brother.'”
Self: “I love my brother?”
Dakota: “Aight, then.” (Wanders away.)