Still Surviving the School Year

The other day at work, I opened the door to my final class of the day, and one of the second graders greeted me with, "They're crazy today." 

 

That's never a good sign, I thought. 

 

Since August, I've gone home more than once feeling like the kids have forgotten how to be at school. Or maybe I have forgotten how to be at school. It has been almost two years since we've had a normal school year. And 2021 has been far from normal. 

 

 

We have managed to get a few fun things done:

 

One thing hasn't changed. I have a fifth grade student who enters my room, sits in his spot, and sneezes three times. Every. Single. Week. He has been doing this since kindergarten.

 

 

"I'm allergic to cats," he told me the other day. "Maybe it's Copy Cat's fault." 

 

Poor Copy Cat

 

Later, in a first grade class, I walked up the steps of my choir risers, and one of the little kids gasped. 

 

“Mrs. Duggan, you’re too heavy! You’re going to break the risers!” 

 

“Are you calling a woman HEAVY?!” I said with fake indignation.

 

He shrugged, “My mom is heavy too.” 

 

My face when a first grader calls me "heavy."

Also that day, I asked the sixth graders to hold their hands to the level of my chin for some weird reason. I don't remember why. 

 

"I hate to say it, Mrs. Duggan, but that's not hard to do," one of the students said. "You’re pretty small.”

 

At least this kid didn't say I was "heavy."

 

 

Some children have been trying to help with classroom behaviors. During a fourth grade class, I caught, out of the corner of my eye, two students pantomiming good seating behavior to one of the more fidgety kids in class. 

 

When he finally settled and sat with his hands in his lap in a way that satisfied the other two kids (their rule, not mine), the students fist-bumped surreptitiously, proud of their accomplishment. 

 

 

"Do you watch Squid Game?" the sixth graders asked me one day. 

"What is it? A video game? Anime? A TikTok thing?" I asked. 

Yes, I've been living under a rock. I am aware of Squid Game now. In my defense, this was a few weeks ago, before NPR aired anything about it. We older folks have to get our pop culture info from NPR, ya know. I still haven't watched it though.

 

 

"It's a TV show on Netflix. It's really good. But don’t watch it with your kids," the ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD said. 

 

(Um . . . )

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Mrs. Duggan's Hand Sanitizer Wars

 

I'm tired of hand sanitizer. Let me put this another way. I'm tired of the response I get from my students about hand sanitizer. And I'm waging war . . . in the kindest way possible. 

In the wake of this airborne pandemic, I am supposed to do two things as a music teacher whose classroom is swimming with 10 classes worth of aerosols everyday. 

1. Make sure the kids keep their masks on.

2. Sanitize. Sanitize. Sanitize.

 

 

Of course, since this virus is airborne, the mask thing is the priority.

 

But sanitizing isn't a terrible idea either. It enables us to safely play a lot of fun instruments and to work with manipulatives and props. I will probably continue this practice if COVID ever becomes a distant memory (LMAO, with Idaho's barely 50% vaccination rate). 

However, my students always have wonderful [sarcastic tone] and new things to say about the different hand sanitizers strategically stationed around my room.

 

I started using a hand spray because it's quick when I want the kids to pick up an object. Also, the gel was leaving their hands sticky, and the residue looked like eraser shavings on your skin. 

 

I have a foam kind that the kids and I really like, but it takes WAY TOO LONG to administer. I usually save that one for my personal use or as an incentive if a class is being really good. 

I have a few students who bring their own because they can't use the school-provided sanitizer. Okay, fine. No problem.

 

But back to my war. 

 

Certain students (older, of course), after complaining incessantly about the gel sanitizer last year, started making annoying comments about the spray.

 

 

 

"This smells like moldy bread" or "an old woman (whatever that means)" or "rotten bananas." 

 

It doesn't. It actually smells really nice, and keeps my room smelling fresh following classes of sweaty 6th graders. 

 

I tried explaining how disrespectful it was to walk into a classroom and announce that it smells bad, but this went in one ear and out the other. I mean, some of the kids got it, but there was still enough negativity to be obnoxious.

 

So the next time the classes entered my room, I gave candy to the kids who didn't complain. 

 

Now I hear things like, "You're a good singer" and "You're awesome at guitar" and "I like your shoes" and "Nice ponytail." 

 

 

Recently, I've even had a few students say, "This smells great!" to which I respond, "You're my new, favorite student!" 

Pretty soon in these classes, all of the kids are complimenting the smell of the hand sanitizer, and I am calling them all my favorite students.

Problem solved. Battle won . . . so far . . .  

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.