November 7, 2013 – Thursday

27 degrees/cloudy/breezy

Pentoga Road

There’s not a lot to write about this morning and again, because I substitute taught all day on Wednesday, no pictures.

I did something different yesterday; I kept a running log of how my classes were going. So at the risk of breaking the usual format, I’ll include the following thoughts that I wrote during each class as they were working. Some were written directly after.

November 6/13

Period One – 8:00 to 8:50 - Now this is my idea of substitute teaching. It appears the students in Anatomy/Physiology are a bit more mature than the usual public school student.

I’m thinking there are several reasons why these munchkins are so well behaved; probably because this course is an elective and not required for graduation.

The biggest challenge so far has been to figure out how to get the attendance to the office. Usually entered on the computer, the teacher didn’t leave his machine on so I am submitting the attendance the old fashioned way… by writing down the names of those who are missing and sending the list to the office via student.

I may have lucked out this time. It appears all the upcoming classes are advanced except for the last period of the day… freshman Biology. The teacher left very detailed lesson plans, mostly worksheets, and I only have to maintain law and order, something that’s very easy to do in this class.

Period Two 8:54 to 9:44

Oh Lord Almighty, I’ve died and gone to Heaven. I somewhat dreaded a group of mere sophomores coming this period, but my fears were for nothing. The last group was wonderful. This bunch is even better. They immediately got busy working on their packets and have been nothing but delightful.

It appears the word got out up and down the halls that the “guy from Alaska” is subbing up and that fact alone seems to carry some weight. I tell them a story or two with the promise that if they get busy and stay that way, I’ll enlighten them with another at the end of the period. Can’t beat a good Alaskan story as a classroom management aide.

So far, so good.

Pd 5 – Another section of Anatomy/Physiology

The only thing better than a class of mostly juniors is one of all seniors. I believe I’d sub several days a week if I could have students just like these each time. Most are working in groups, talking softly, mostly staying on task. I’ve really enjoyed occasionally joking with a few, listening to some of their stories, and I’m amazed that several already know me. It’s a small town… what can I say?

If it keeps up like this, I’m going to have to revise some of my thinking about today’s youth. I’ve not heard the words, “thankyou, please, may I help you?” or “Have a good day,” from teenagers so often in many years.

I enjoyed the majority of the schools I visited in Alaska, but by the time I retired, I was thoroughly disgusted by a few when students decided they were entirely too good to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance, talked back to their instructors, wore hats in the school, and were otherwise disrespectful. I’m too old for that type of behavior and visiting those schools is one aspect of my job that I absolutely don’t miss.

Period 6 – Chemistry – Right after lunch

Lunch must have been good today, because these babies are wound up…. all twenty-six of them. Good kids, really good kids, but they’re a happy lot, that’s for sure.

I promised them a story, so I began by telling about a time I was attacked by a bull moose in the arctic. Earlier in the day, I’d told another class the polar bear story, about the time I was watching a couple of polar bears while taking a lunch break on the ice between Barrow and Pt. Lay, Alaska. I turned around and found I was being stalked by a polar bear.  I did what any scared person would. I started the snowmobile and sped away.

At any rate, word had spread so when I mentioned telling them about being attacked by a moose, all I heard was, “No… tell us about when you almost were eaten by a polar bear.”

The tale must have gotten bigger as it traveled by word of mouth down the hall. I hated to tell the kiddies that I’d never been attacked, let alone almost eaten, but that didn’t deter them. I repeated the same story I’d told the other classes.

And so the day went. I spent most of the time walking up and down the rows, occasionally talking with various students, helping when I was able, cracking a horrible joke and letting them laugh at me, and enjoying the good vibrations that only large classes of polite, hard working students can manufacture.

Freshman Biology – last period

There must be a thousand kids in this class. Every seat is filled with squirming freshmen. We talked a bit before I introduced the lesson. Each child quit squirming and we got to work. Oh, they weren’t perfect, but for a bunch of high school graduate wanna-bees, they were darn good.

I made a point of memorizing several names before any walked into the room, an exercise that completely freaked several out.

“How do you know my name?” one asked.

I did my best Vincent Price sinister laugh and said, “I’m Mr. P… and I’m everywhere.”

And then to quote a line from Tommy Boy, I finished by saying, “You can run, but you can’t hide,” then ended it all by whispering, “…and by all that’s holy, I will find you. Oh yes, I WILL FIND YOU!”

The baby high schoolers laughed and giggled, but I kept a straight face. After they began working and it became absolutely quiet, I heard a pair of girls still talking and said, “Keep it up ladies… I will find you…” 

The rest of the class flew by. The freshmen and I worked, talked, watched a bit of a video, worked more, joked, and before we knew it, a bell rang that signaled the end of the day.

The high school students are a shining example of our small town. The townspeople should be proud.

But then, I’m not surprised. There’s good blood flowing through this community; in fact, in this entire area. Most people aren’t ashamed to say they believe in God, family is still important, there’s a strong vein of conservative patriotism, and the majority still remembers their manners.

After living in someone else’s culture for the past many years, it feels as though I’ve come home. People here could care less if I speak French or Inupiaq or Yupik Eskimo or Athabascan Indian. They talk in terms of miles per hour, not knots, and most have never seen a whale or sea lion in the wild. Instead, one will probably hear chatter about funding the local Senior Citizens Center, helping with a fund raiser for a local cancer victim, when the ice will be on the lakes, the Green Bay Packers, or the best techniques for walleye fishing or shooting a trophy buck. It’s my culture. Nothing fancy. Simply good old-fashioned, northern midwestern living.

Wednesday’s experience brought to the forefront of why I love living here on Pentoga Road. For all the Yooper jokes one endures (and makes), the fact remains that our piece of real estate, bigger than many states, wedged between the Wisconsin border and the Great Lakes is filled with people who think as I do.

I like that. I like that very much. I’m home.

Page Two

Well, poop, the weatherman initially said there was going to be some sunshine today, but once again, it appears he lied. My barn and shop look as though Sanford and Son live here. There’s trapping paraphernalia everywhere, garden implements are lying around, and a solar panel is partially constructed. I’m going to have to put on some heavier clothes and get things put away. Looking at the forecast, it appears the snow that fell yesterday is going to be with us for some time.

Sargie works early today which means she’ll be home early tonight; always something to look forward to. I think I’ll ride five miles with her when she leaves for work and hike back. Things continue to get better in the walking department. Life’s getting back to normal.

Geesh, it’s going to be a busy day, but then I’ve grown used to it. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…