The Turkey of Perfection

There is an ongoing battle to get students to do their homework. Students don't realize what a drain it is on a teacher's time when work isn't done on time. When correcting papers you get into a rhythm, memorize the key and after a few can just whiz through them. When there are stragglers, it takes a lot of time. Find the key or make a new one. Remember what exactly you were looking for. Check it, record it and then return it. I hate, loathe and despise late papers. Late papers make me further behind, and I don't need any help getting behind. I do it entirely too well all by myself.

There is the thought that if you wait until all the papers are in, then it isn't an issue. But, then all those students that did get their papers in don't get feedback. And a huge pile of grading can accumulate. And sometimes you never get every student's paper.

So we attempt rewards to entice those papers to come in. The end of the grading period is rapidly approaching and I don't want a huge pile of papers to grade because they all waited until the last minute. This week we are doing an art reward. On Friday, if a student is all caught up, they get to make a turkey centerpiece. If they are still missing work, they get to go to study hall.

Today I brought my turkey in to encourage them to get their stuff in. We have lists on the board of what is missing. Only I can cross off my assignments. In theory, all those lists will be gone by Friday.

Last Friday I brought home all the supplies to make the turkeys with the boys. I thought it would be a fun project. And it was. I cut out the body of sweetE's, and he cut out most of the feathers. Ducky helped him a bit. A four year old's attention span is only so long. SweetP made his (except the cutting of the cardstock) and it turned out really cute.


SweetE's bird, isn't he cute.


SweetP's bird, I love his quote. He came up with it entirely on his own and I really couldn't blame a turkey for saying that. In case you can't read it, it says, "Eat Pork."

Then there was my bird. I am carefully cutting out each and every part. I colored the edges of the feathers with Sharpie to make them stand out. Ducky interrupts my reverie with, "You know it doesn't have to be perfect." Shows how well he knows me. I am a frustrated perfectionist. There are so few things that I can take the time on to make them perfect. I hate, hate, hate it when I can't do things up to my own standards. I procrastinate on a regular basis rather than do a half-way job.

Between my ability to get easily distracted (I started this post almost two hours ago), and my need for perfection, I am ripe for disappointment. But my turkey is perfect. It was a small enough project that I could take the time to make him exactly the way I wanted to. It wasn't difficult, just fun.

Perfectionism is my turkey. It drives me nuts, but now I have the perfect turkey.