I LOVE Office Supplies!

 

I love office supplies. The idea of being surrounded by office supplies all day might have been the reason I became a teacher.

 

Oh yeah, office supplies AND the kids . . .

 

 

The other night at choir rehearsal, we were asked to turn in music.

 

"But my paper clips!" I exclaimed, panicked.

 

"What?" the choir member sitting next to me asked. 

 

"I used all of these paper clips on the music. I don't want to lose them." 

 

"Are you that worried about losing paper clips?"

 

"They are different colors!" as if this was a reasonable explanation for the average person. 

 

Most people don't have an unhealthy attachment to office supplies.

 

 

A few minutes later, after I had successfully stuffed my paper clips into my choir folder and turned in my music, clip-free, my choir friend asked if I had a pencil she could borrow.

"Oooo! I love pencils too!" I said way too enthusiastically, handing her a cute music-note themed pencil.

 

Throughout the remainder of rehearsal, every time I opened my folder, paper clips of various sizes and colors went flying across the floor. 

Once, I went shopping with a friend who freaked out over the accessories section at Forever 21. 

"The way you feel about this is how I feel every time I walk into an Office Depot," I explained.

 

 

At the beginning of every school year, I stock up on all types of Sharpies, mechanical pencils, multicolored Post-Its of different sizes, 36-in-a-pack Expo markers, binder clips in various sizes and colors, pocket folders, and anything else that excites me in the school supply section of the store.

 

About a week ago, one of my students told me her father didn't sign a form I had sent home because her father didn't have a pen. I doubted this was the real reason, but I gave the student a pen to take home anyway. 

 

"Take a pen. I have plenty of pens," I told the girl, "I LOVE office supplies!" 

 

All the while I was thinking, "Who doesn't have pens in several colors and assortments?"

 

I'm judgy like that.

 

One of the families at my school gave me a gift card to Staples for Christmas. Now, they get me.

 

In the thank you note, I told the family how much I appreciated it.

 

This particular thank you note was very sincere because I. LOVE. OFFICE. SUPPLIES.

 

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

I Gotta Have More Cowbell

The sixth graders have learned they can't play cowbells in music class without Mrs. Duggan's "More Cowbell" impression.

 

This is nothing new. I have been attempting Saturday Night Live reenactments since I was a kid.

 

It all started when my brother and I would shimmy around the house and yell, "We are two wild and crazy guys!" 

 

(My parents introduced us to the 1970s version of the show at very young ages. Thanks, Mom and Dad.)

Recently, a friend from my teenage years told me that one of his first memories of me was my Adam Sandler Pickle-for-a-Mustache impression. I would end it with, "Now, give me some candy!"

 

I also do a pretty rad Target Lady these days. Apparently, not much has changed.

 

 

 

The other day, there happened to be a cowbell part in one of the pieces I was teaching. 

 

And I, of course, introduced the instrument part this way: 

 

"I've gotta fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!" 

 

"Really explore the space," I continued as I head banged and danced around the room with the cowbell.

Only one of my sixth grade classes truly appreciated this. A couple of the students have seen the clip on YouTube.

 

Most of my classes just stared at me, unimpressed, maybe a little scared.

 

 

I settled down, and the kids learned their respective percussion lines. Before layering the various instruments in, I instructed the kids to play each part one dynamic level softer.

 

"Even the cowbell?" asked one of the boys.

I couldn't resist, "I gotta have more cowbell!"

A few minutes later, one of the kids was playing his hand drum when the Tubanos were supposed to be playing by themselves. 

 

"You have permission to give him a dirty look for playing during your solo," I told the kids.

 

"But Mrs. Duggan," he said, "I've gotta fever for more hand drum!”

 

Touché . . .

 

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