Inspired to Teach: smarter than a 5th grader?

Sunday, March 1, 2009

smarter than a 5th grader?

passed along from my smartest friend and his Math Teacher wife:

There are 7 girls in a bus. Each girl has 7 backpacks. In each backpack, there are 7 big cats. For every big cat, there are 7 little cats. The bus driver is not on the bus at this time.

Question: How many legs are there in the bus?

This is not a trick question (easy for him to say...), it is a real math problem, so "a bus doesn't have legs" is not any part of the answer.

any ideas?

When I copy/re-write anything like this, especially up on the white board in front of the class, I get OCD/paranoid I'm spelling words wrong, or omitting a word, or accidentally spelling some word I'll get calls from the parents about -- for example, do not abbreviate "after school session" !

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Praise Song for the Day

Elizabeth Alexander

Inauguration Poem 2009

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other,
catching each other’s eyes or not,
about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din,
each one of our ancestors
on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem,
darning a hole in a uniform,
patching a tire, repairing
the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music
somewhere, with a pair of
wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son
wait for the bus.
A farmer considers
the changing sky.
A teacher says,
Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words,
words spiny or smooth,
whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads
and highways that mark the will
of some one and then others,
who said I need to see
what’s on the other side.

I know there’s something better down the road.
We need to find a place
where we are safe.
We walk into that
which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks,
raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce,
built brick by brick
the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean
and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle,
praise song for the day.
Praise song for every
hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor
as thyself, others by
irst do no harm or take no more
than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital,
filial, national,
love that casts a widening
pool of light,
love with no need
to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle,
this winter air,
any thing can be made,
any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim,
on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward
in that light.

I know it's probably copyright infringement, and I promise I'll teach my students to never, ever plagiarize, but these are awesome words-- probably just the weight and emotions of the day, but didn't you feel she was speaking directly to you?

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“The views expressed on this site do not reflect the views of the San Diego Unified (or any) School District. This site contains user-created content which is not endorsed by the District. The purpose of this site is”…(then specify the purpose).

The (multiple, related, connected) purpose(s) is to learn, share, discuss, collect, reflect, whine, practice, read, watch, organize, test, adapt, refine, laugh, listen, and yes, show off sometimes, anything and everything about my career and life as an Educator.