I wonder if I should start paying attention to my dreams more. On several mornings this past year I’ve woken from a dream in which I’m in the classroom, or I’m teaching, or I’m surrounded by kids, or I’m doing something teacherly – and then I wake up and feel like I’m missing something. Should I go back to the classroom?
I’ve been in this profession since 1990. Teaching has been my life. After 26 years in, however, teachers usually start looking at how many years they have left, when and how to retire. I've found myself doing the same. I know I'm not totally content in my current position. For the last two years I’ve been in a support role, coaching new teachers, providing professional development, running data, and going to meetings.
It’s just not as satisfying as the teacher life. There’s nothing like teaching kids how to write, reading with them, getting them excited about new things, and letting them figure things out for themselves. It’s fulfilling and heartbreaking and joyful to be responsible for a classroom kids who depend on you in different ways; you get to watch them grow, you form relationships with them, you push them and protect them. Teaching is how you move the world forward, how you connect with the future, how you keep dreams alive. I miss that.
Now, I know teaching isn’t what it used to be – and that if I were presently in the classroom, I would be complaining about the paperwork, the lesson plans, too much testing, demanding administrators, and disengaged parents, and the pointless meetings.
But I still miss teaching. And I know that, if it’s popping up in my dreams as often as it does, it’s because my soul is trying to tell me something.
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Saturday, July 2, 2016
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Half Teacher, Half Super Hero
Most of us are required to wear an ID badge at school. I
wear mine on a lanyard, to which I've attached a large white button with black
lettering, stating: “HALF TEACHER, HALF SUPERHERO”. I’ve felt that way for a long time, but this
past year I believe it even more. I wear these words as a mantra, a shield, and
a shout out to all my fellow educators. Who else but a teacher can know what
it’s really like?
We pay our respects to the children and educators lost in
Newtown, Connecticut on December 14. While the grim news affected our entire
country, it touched teachers in a most profound way. Who would ever imagine
that the joyful place called school would one day invoke the saddest of tears?
And, are we even surprised that teachers would step forward to protect those in
their charge?
I’m even more determined to make it known, that ours is the
most humbling of professions. The huge expectation placed on our students as
indicated in the new standards, and the incessant testing that robs us of teaching
time, wears at us. Teachers are more burdened than ever with district mandates,
tight schedules, and the urgent need to reach every student. A typical school
day with its ups and downs– bad behavior, laughter, the discovery of a
weeks-old muffin in a desk (and an accidental science lesson!), multiplication
facts that make you shake your head, great discussions, no homework and MIA
parents, and the collective “Nooooo!!!!” when the bell rings and it’s time to
go home – is tiring, overwhelming, heart-breaking, and inspiring.
I often tell myself “I’m done!” with this exhausting work,
it’s just too much sometimes. And yet, I fall in love with it again day after day.
Right before we broke for the holidays, my newest student - who has only been
here a few months – laughed at a joke I told in class. His eyes lit up and he
guffawed! Another student, who refused to speak since September, began to bloom
during guided reading, as she shared the story of her arrival to the U.S. – a
connection she made after reading When Jessie Came Across the Sea. Moments like these mean a lot to a
teacher, especially a teacher of ELLs.
It’s been too easy to criticize teachers lately. But when it
gets really tough, and when it counts the most, we stand firm. And so, in the
New Year, I recommit to being the best teacher I can be. I’ll teach my kids
with energy and enthusiasm. I’ll prepare engaging lessons. I’ll keep myself
informed. I’ll have high expectations of my students, but I’ll also be
sensitive to their needs. I’ll watch over them.
Monday, June 27, 2011
We Can Do Better
When I first welcomed him to our classroom back in September, "G" warned me, in all his toughness, "there's nothing you can do to make me like school". I was taken aback by his statement, but instantly took it as a challenge. We struggled the first several weeks as we got to know each other. He had to learn to trust me, while I had to figure out what set him off.
I learned quickly that G had two huge issues: divorced parents and what looked to me like dyslexia or dysgraphia. Which of the two? I'm afraid we never got to that. Although G had been referred to I & RS last year, all he got this school year was two marking periods of tutoring! I had him in my lowest reading group, gave him extra time at writing conferences, and tried different tactics for getting him through his literacy difficulties. (Classroom teachers are not necessarily equipped to address the needs of dyslexia and dysgraphia, unfortunately.) I also had to muster up some serious patience, especially at the beginning of the year, during his outbursts which involved shoving furniture, throwing school supplies, and trying to engage me in arguments. His little face would turn red, he would huff and puff, he would cry. He would tense up and pinch or squeeze his arm. ( I later recognized this as his attempt to control himself.)
I knew, of course, he acted out of frustration. He lived with his mother one week, his father the next. G clearly had a preference for his dad's place. I could easily tell on a Monday morning whose week it was, by the angry look on his face. His family situation, coupled with his learning difficulties, made for a very angry little boy.
As the year progressed, G did get better academically and socially. He did very well in math. He contributed very thoughtfully to classroom discussions. And although his independent reading ability was well below grade level, he developed a desire to read. I often found him engrossed in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series, which took him way longer than his peers, but held his attention. He eventually overcame some of his distaste for school. His classmates often teased, "See?!! You DO like school!" He learned to curb his emotional outbursts and he practiced self-calming techniques.
I know we should have done more. As much as I advocated for G, my school was not able (or willing?) to address his needs more appropriately. Some forms were filled out, a few questionnaires completed, and ONE meeting held to discuss his case. By the end of the year, his case was left... open? hanging? in limbo?
G left for summer vacation a week earlier than his classmates, while I was still grading benchmark tests. He said "Bye Miss!" as he took off at the end of his last day, and that was that. My eyes later filled up at his response to a persuasive writing prompt, where he was to explain why our school is the best in town:
Also the techors here cold relle chang a person. Like me befor I cam to this school. I hated being in school. However, the techors changed me. I still don't like school but now I can't sae I hate going and being in school. Also the techers are alway fair about stfo.
This is the "stuff" that makes me want to do better.
I learned quickly that G had two huge issues: divorced parents and what looked to me like dyslexia or dysgraphia. Which of the two? I'm afraid we never got to that. Although G had been referred to I & RS last year, all he got this school year was two marking periods of tutoring! I had him in my lowest reading group, gave him extra time at writing conferences, and tried different tactics for getting him through his literacy difficulties. (Classroom teachers are not necessarily equipped to address the needs of dyslexia and dysgraphia, unfortunately.) I also had to muster up some serious patience, especially at the beginning of the year, during his outbursts which involved shoving furniture, throwing school supplies, and trying to engage me in arguments. His little face would turn red, he would huff and puff, he would cry. He would tense up and pinch or squeeze his arm. ( I later recognized this as his attempt to control himself.)
I knew, of course, he acted out of frustration. He lived with his mother one week, his father the next. G clearly had a preference for his dad's place. I could easily tell on a Monday morning whose week it was, by the angry look on his face. His family situation, coupled with his learning difficulties, made for a very angry little boy.
As the year progressed, G did get better academically and socially. He did very well in math. He contributed very thoughtfully to classroom discussions. And although his independent reading ability was well below grade level, he developed a desire to read. I often found him engrossed in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series, which took him way longer than his peers, but held his attention. He eventually overcame some of his distaste for school. His classmates often teased, "See?!! You DO like school!" He learned to curb his emotional outbursts and he practiced self-calming techniques.
I know we should have done more. As much as I advocated for G, my school was not able (or willing?) to address his needs more appropriately. Some forms were filled out, a few questionnaires completed, and ONE meeting held to discuss his case. By the end of the year, his case was left... open? hanging? in limbo?
G left for summer vacation a week earlier than his classmates, while I was still grading benchmark tests. He said "Bye Miss!" as he took off at the end of his last day, and that was that. My eyes later filled up at his response to a persuasive writing prompt, where he was to explain why our school is the best in town:
Also the techors here cold relle chang a person. Like me befor I cam to this school. I hated being in school. However, the techors changed me. I still don't like school but now I can't sae I hate going and being in school. Also the techers are alway fair about stfo.
This is the "stuff" that makes me want to do better.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
School's out for summer
On this last day of school I wanted to say so many things to my students. But there were cumulative folders to fill out, books to put away, papers to file, a final assembly to attend, summer paperwork to distribute, and letters to send home. Sorry kids - your teacher didn't have a chance to share some last thoughts.
Five minutes before the bell rang, I said "OK guys. Last time I'm going to say it. Let's line up for dismissal." And all of a sudden I felt a little lump in my throat. I looked away to hide a tear that welled up, and started down the hall, downstairs, to the gym, where I delivered my kids every day for the past year, so they could catch their buses to various parts around town.
I grabbed the first child's hand, I'm not sure why, and walked with her like that until we got to the gym. She looked at our hands and raised them, saying "This is something I'm going to remember." And with that, I hugged my 4th grade buddies, whispering a few special words to each, and sent them on their way.
¡Adelante mis niños!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Una visión
Every now and then, I'm absent from school to participate in professional development, workshops, training, or conferences. Recently, I've signed on to work with my state's DOE on a special curriculum writing project. Specifically, we're writing exemplar ESL units that match up language objectives with content objectives. It's both interesting and intense.
What I appreciate most about this experience is the way in which it makes me take a closer, harder look at the way I teach my ELLs. I'm finding that I'm on target most of the time, especially in the way I structure my lessons - providing plenty of scaffolding at the beginning, having a "big idea" in mind throughout, and relinquishing control gradually as my students take on more responsibility for their own learning. At the same time, I recognize a few blind spots in my instruction, and I realize why they occur. The demands and goals of the general curriculum can often obscure the specific language needs of my ELLs.
I've been teaching for almost 21 years now, and while my eyesight has begun to fade ever so slightly, my vision for Bilingual Education has become clearer. I hope that, in spite of the negativity around me, I'll not lose sight of what matters. Good teaching, respect for kids and the way they learn, and ánimo will endure in my classroom.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Torn
Look how long it's taken to make my way back here!
Time gets shorter and tighter as it slips through my hands and feet -
I try to finish a billion little things
as I juggle enormous tasks.
Has anyone realized how long it's been since I've posted? I'm trying to keep up with everything; work has a way of taking over. In the 20 years I've been teaching, the amount of work I bring home has increased dramatically. No matter what I do, I'm always behind. Added to that, my responsibilities to family (which should come first) as well as those to my advocacy organization; I often have a hard time keeping up with it all. All I can say is... you should see my house!
I wish... I could read and write all day and then I wouldn't feel like I'm not doing everything I should be doing to complete ME.
Time gets shorter and tighter as it slips through my hands and feet -
I try to finish a billion little things
as I juggle enormous tasks.
Has anyone realized how long it's been since I've posted? I'm trying to keep up with everything; work has a way of taking over. In the 20 years I've been teaching, the amount of work I bring home has increased dramatically. No matter what I do, I'm always behind. Added to that, my responsibilities to family (which should come first) as well as those to my advocacy organization; I often have a hard time keeping up with it all. All I can say is... you should see my house!
I wish... I could read and write all day and then I wouldn't feel like I'm not doing everything I should be doing to complete ME.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Bitter fruit
I was recently at an informal gathering of coworkers, all of whom work at school in some capacity. It was nice to see everyone in summer mode, wearing t-shirts, shorts, flip-flops... sipping on cold drinks and enjoying chips, burgers and dogs, fresh fruit, and key lime pie. The relaxed atmosphere was very pleasant, something I know everyone needed after a long and stressful school year.
However, some of the conversation troubled me. I was disappointed to hear some people talk so poorly about the kids they worked with. I hated hearing some of them preface several negative comments with "these parents". I cringed when one of them - the same one I've seen being downright abusive to children - talked about how much she "couldn't stand them". A few of them even mentioned the many ways they "got away with" stuff all year... I don't even want to go in to detail.
Some of us stayed quiet, listened, maybe raised an eyebrow. We made eye-contact, some of us, and in that mirada said to each other, "look what they're doing to our kids". Some of us, for whom teaching and advocating for children has become our life's work... nos quedamos calladas, we remained silent.
Inwardly, I was giving these gals a piece of my mind; I wish I could tell them to GO elsewhere with their bad attitude and mediocrity. If only I could say out loud that I blame them for the way things have gone sour in this profession. I wanted to say something. I wanted to speak up for the kids and their parents. I wanted to tell them...
And if I had said something... would they have even listened? I can only hope the summer rest will sweeten their outlook a bit. It's not so much that I care about them - I'm thinking about the little kids they'll meet in September.
However, some of the conversation troubled me. I was disappointed to hear some people talk so poorly about the kids they worked with. I hated hearing some of them preface several negative comments with "these parents". I cringed when one of them - the same one I've seen being downright abusive to children - talked about how much she "couldn't stand them". A few of them even mentioned the many ways they "got away with" stuff all year... I don't even want to go in to detail.
Some of us stayed quiet, listened, maybe raised an eyebrow. We made eye-contact, some of us, and in that mirada said to each other, "look what they're doing to our kids". Some of us, for whom teaching and advocating for children has become our life's work... nos quedamos calladas, we remained silent.
Inwardly, I was giving these gals a piece of my mind; I wish I could tell them to GO elsewhere with their bad attitude and mediocrity. If only I could say out loud that I blame them for the way things have gone sour in this profession. I wanted to say something. I wanted to speak up for the kids and their parents. I wanted to tell them...
And if I had said something... would they have even listened? I can only hope the summer rest will sweeten their outlook a bit. It's not so much that I care about them - I'm thinking about the little kids they'll meet in September.
Friday, April 2, 2010
La tecnolución
Ya hace unos dos o tres años que ando buscando maneras lógicas y auténticas para incorporar la tecnología en mi clase. No es fácil – uno tiene que estar balanceando las demandas del horario, las preparaciones y las expectativas de los exámenes, etc. Además, aunque tenemos las herramientas, las máquinas, y la facultad, a veces nos vemos rodeados de personas que temen o sospechan a la tecnología. Pienso que, comenzando de arriba, tiene que haber una actitud de ánimo y curiosidad para que la escuela en total se ponga las pilas para intentar cosas nuevas. Los que sabemos algo debemos de compartirlo y buscar cómo interesar a nuestros colegas.
No creo de ninguna manera en abandonar el libro, el papel, y el lápiz. Pero sí veo el entusiasmo y los ojos abiertos de mis alumnos cuando usamos los portátiles, cuando trabajamos en nuestro blog, cuando entramos a sitios increíbles en el Internet… todo haciendo que las lecciones sean más grandes y llenas. La tecnología se ha hecho gran parte de las vidas de nuestros alumnos; debemos aprenderlo y manipularlo. Al contrario, corremos el riesgo de quedarnos atrás. Yo planeo ser parte de la “tecnolución”…
No creo de ninguna manera en abandonar el libro, el papel, y el lápiz. Pero sí veo el entusiasmo y los ojos abiertos de mis alumnos cuando usamos los portátiles, cuando trabajamos en nuestro blog, cuando entramos a sitios increíbles en el Internet… todo haciendo que las lecciones sean más grandes y llenas. La tecnología se ha hecho gran parte de las vidas de nuestros alumnos; debemos aprenderlo y manipularlo. Al contrario, corremos el riesgo de quedarnos atrás. Yo planeo ser parte de la “tecnolución”…
Monday, February 15, 2010
Passion becomes a problem...
An educator/blogger I've been following asks Where is the Passion?
It's a great post, but I felt a bit guilty when I read it. I had just posted a few days ago about how OVERJOYED I was that we had gotten a couple of snow days. I was that tired and frustrated; I needed a break.
It also felt like Mr. Anderson was writing about me. I'm that teacher who has become disillusioned. I've been thinking I can't keep doing this head-butting thing much longer.
If I were one of those folks who does what their told, enters and exits the building at the sound of the bell, doesn't speak up for the kids, doesn't speak up for the parents, and thinks "it is what it is" - well then, I wouldn't feel this way. School can be a lonely place when you're the only one sweating real issues.
I'm an idealist I guess. I still dream about pushing my kids up and out, guiding them to love books and words, learning together how to connect within and outside of the classroom with all of the tools we're fortunate to have. I can't look at school as a business, and I can't stand to hear another person tell me to "just lay low" and "do what you have to do".
That's too easy. And yet, when you let passion drive you, you get like me - overly contemplative, stressed out, and becoming bitter.
Thankfully, when I get to school tomorrow morning, and I see my kids' faces... passion will get a kick in the rear and fire up.
It's a great post, but I felt a bit guilty when I read it. I had just posted a few days ago about how OVERJOYED I was that we had gotten a couple of snow days. I was that tired and frustrated; I needed a break.
It also felt like Mr. Anderson was writing about me. I'm that teacher who has become disillusioned. I've been thinking I can't keep doing this head-butting thing much longer.
If I were one of those folks who does what their told, enters and exits the building at the sound of the bell, doesn't speak up for the kids, doesn't speak up for the parents, and thinks "it is what it is" - well then, I wouldn't feel this way. School can be a lonely place when you're the only one sweating real issues.
I'm an idealist I guess. I still dream about pushing my kids up and out, guiding them to love books and words, learning together how to connect within and outside of the classroom with all of the tools we're fortunate to have. I can't look at school as a business, and I can't stand to hear another person tell me to "just lay low" and "do what you have to do".
That's too easy. And yet, when you let passion drive you, you get like me - overly contemplative, stressed out, and becoming bitter.
Thankfully, when I get to school tomorrow morning, and I see my kids' faces... passion will get a kick in the rear and fire up.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Back to school we go...
First day of school tomorrow - and I'm not sure I should even bother going to bed tonight. The night before the first day has always been sleepless for me. I end up laying there, wide-eyed, tossing, turning, making lists in my head, giddy and nervous.
I also tear up a bit on this night every year - about the end of summer, the end of free time, over the beginning of what is always a stressful season, and the realization that I might not have spent enough quality time with my son. It's always my regret on this night. He's growing and changing so quickly. Jeans and sneakers up a size. Mind and personality... amazing, curious, beautiful, quirky. There's heartache in watching him.
Before this treasure went to bed tonight, with his own mixed thoughts of what tomorrow will bring, he came to kiss me goodnight. "Thanks for a great summer Mom. I had the best time with you. Thanks for everything."
This kid. He ties my heart up in knots.
I also tear up a bit on this night every year - about the end of summer, the end of free time, over the beginning of what is always a stressful season, and the realization that I might not have spent enough quality time with my son. It's always my regret on this night. He's growing and changing so quickly. Jeans and sneakers up a size. Mind and personality... amazing, curious, beautiful, quirky. There's heartache in watching him.
Before this treasure went to bed tonight, with his own mixed thoughts of what tomorrow will bring, he came to kiss me goodnight. "Thanks for a great summer Mom. I had the best time with you. Thanks for everything."
This kid. He ties my heart up in knots.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
My Back-to-School Wordle
Wordle is an exciting tool. I plan to enlarge this one for the bulletin board outside my room. I hope we'll be allowed to access the site in class, so my students can use it. Make your own at http://www.wordle.net/!
Monday, June 8, 2009
Customer Service
(Here is what I wish I had overheard and seen in the main office this morning, when a young mother came to pick up her child from school.)
Good Morning! How can I help you? (Smile...)
You're here to sign your child out? May I ask the reason? (Nod politely...)
Alright then. May I ask your child's name?
And what room is your child in? Teacher's name? (Prod patiently...)
You're not sure? Well, if you tell me what grade your child is in, I can help you with that.
Please sign here while I call for your child. (Point, provide a pen...)
You're not sure where to sign? Here, please sign here. (Smile...)
Now, please have a seat while you wait for your child to come down. Can I help you with anything else? (Smile...)
Here is your child! Do you have everything? It was nice to meet you - have a lovely day! (Smile and wave...)
Dear mother-in-the-office,
I am sorry your experience in our school was so uncomfortable this morning. I wish I had stepped in to take over. Unfortunately there are certain "territories" that must not be invaded and I've been told not to get involved when I see this happening.
You were spoken to disrespectfully. The person whose job it was to assist you was rude and impatient. I would not be surprised if you avoid coming to our school in the future and if you speak poorly about our staff.
Good Morning! How can I help you? (Smile...)
You're here to sign your child out? May I ask the reason? (Nod politely...)
Alright then. May I ask your child's name?
And what room is your child in? Teacher's name? (Prod patiently...)
You're not sure? Well, if you tell me what grade your child is in, I can help you with that.
Please sign here while I call for your child. (Point, provide a pen...)
You're not sure where to sign? Here, please sign here. (Smile...)
Now, please have a seat while you wait for your child to come down. Can I help you with anything else? (Smile...)
Here is your child! Do you have everything? It was nice to meet you - have a lovely day! (Smile and wave...)
Dear mother-in-the-office,
I am sorry your experience in our school was so uncomfortable this morning. I wish I had stepped in to take over. Unfortunately there are certain "territories" that must not be invaded and I've been told not to get involved when I see this happening.
You were spoken to disrespectfully. The person whose job it was to assist you was rude and impatient. I would not be surprised if you avoid coming to our school in the future and if you speak poorly about our staff.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
My Torture Chamber
I apologize to my loyal readers for not posting regularly in the past couple of weeks. I've been doing mean things to kids, all in the name of TESTING.
Here is a violent run-down of what's been keeping me occupied:
Here is a violent run-down of what's been keeping me occupied:
- Squeezing in more math skills
- Cramming in more writing
- Force-feeding hideously long reading passages to "practice" comprehension
- Killing the love of writing because they are making me teach formulaic strategies for responding to writing prompts
- Hanging up signs, posters, and other "nice-looking" items on every available blank space, because an important person will be visiting next week
- Slapping up extra vocabulary words on my Word Wall because K and X "are empty" and a few of the other letters don't have "enough"
I'm sorry kids, but they make me do it.
The mistreatment is self-inflicted as well. I've confined myself to my dark, damp basement to grade papers, do report cards, and write lesson plans. Meanwhile, it's 88 and gorgeous outside.
Our state test is scheduled to begin on May 4th. Until then, and until it's over, more gritting of teeth and relentless stress.
Can't wait to take back my classroom. Can't wait to read and write real stories and poems together. Can't wait for exciting math projects. Looking forward to returning to the kind of teaching and learning that actually means something.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Langston Hughes in the 4th Grade
My students have experienced several different types of poetic forms since September. I use specific poems and certain poem forms (haiku, list poems, auto-biographical) to encourage English language development with my ELLs. Since the beginning of the year, my students have made enormous gains in English proficiency. Even more remarkable, is that they have emerged as thoughtful writers and thinkers.
Yesterday I kicked off National Poetry Month with "Poem" by Langston Hughes. It's one of the most touching and simple poems I know.
Poem
"I loved my friend.
He went away from me.
There's nothing more to say.
The poem ends,
soft as it began-
I loved my friend."
The students discussed the poem in groups; they touched on how "short and simple" the poem was, and how sad, "even though the poet didn't even say sad!" I then asked them to write a five-paragraph essay about a time when they lost someone or something they loved. They got right to it, first planning, then writing their first drafts. I did not have to coax anyone to write. Writing flowed freely, even from the three children who are often reluctant writers.
I was able to conference with half of the class yesterday, and the rest today. I was floored by the quality writing they had produced! My students wrote about lost friends, lost relatives left back home in their countries, lost pets, and a lost necklace. While they read to me, some of them got a bit choked up, and some managed to provoke a tear or two in my eyes. (Of course, I had to look away, or pretend like I was distracted by something on the other side of the room!)
Several students started to publish their work today. The rest will do so tomorrow, I'm sure. And today we read another poem, Life Doesn't Frighten Me, by Maya Angelou. They loved it and want to write their own poems about their fears.
These days... are magic. There's nothing more to say.
Yesterday I kicked off National Poetry Month with "Poem" by Langston Hughes. It's one of the most touching and simple poems I know.
Poem
"I loved my friend.
He went away from me.
There's nothing more to say.
The poem ends,
soft as it began-
I loved my friend."
The students discussed the poem in groups; they touched on how "short and simple" the poem was, and how sad, "even though the poet didn't even say sad!" I then asked them to write a five-paragraph essay about a time when they lost someone or something they loved. They got right to it, first planning, then writing their first drafts. I did not have to coax anyone to write. Writing flowed freely, even from the three children who are often reluctant writers.
I was able to conference with half of the class yesterday, and the rest today. I was floored by the quality writing they had produced! My students wrote about lost friends, lost relatives left back home in their countries, lost pets, and a lost necklace. While they read to me, some of them got a bit choked up, and some managed to provoke a tear or two in my eyes. (Of course, I had to look away, or pretend like I was distracted by something on the other side of the room!)
Several students started to publish their work today. The rest will do so tomorrow, I'm sure. And today we read another poem, Life Doesn't Frighten Me, by Maya Angelou. They loved it and want to write their own poems about their fears.
These days... are magic. There's nothing more to say.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Healthy Meals in 10 Minutes!
I asked my husband, who is also a teacher, what he had for lunch today. He told me he scarfed down a chicken sandwich and a diet soda from KFC, while in his car, driving from one school to another.
My lunch today consisted of a can of V-8, lots of hot sauce shaken in, and a hard, sour-dough pretzel, the kind that cracks a molar. Somehow, the meal satisfied. As my mother always says. "Cuando hay hambre, no hay mal pan." (When you're hungry, there is no bad bread.)
I only had about 10 minutes to eat. The kids were indoors for recess, and my school is WAY to big to walk ALL the way to the teacher's lounge. Besides, I avoid that space (bad vibes, mean people) unless, of course, someone has brought bagels or some other kind of goodies.
There's nothing like the occasional sunshine fund-sponsored breakfast or special event in the teacher's lounge. We don't admit it, but some of us make sure to stop in, as busy and frenzied as we are, to grab a bagel, a handful of cookies, or a bunch of grapes. (Teachers neatly place these on a small paper plate, covered with a napkin, to take back to their rooms... for their lunch.)
If it wasn't for these occasional treats, many of us would not eat at lunch time. I happen to know many of my colleagues are working through their lunch, there is so much we have to do. I see many of my coworkers gulping down cold coffee, or microwave oatmeal, or kid-size yogurts and juice-boxes, while they write lesson plans, correct papers, make phone calls to parents, and supervise their students for lunch detention.
My nutritious lunches are quite varied! They have been:
a handful of dried fruit, or
a fruit cup or snack-size applesauce, or
a cup of instant cinnamon-spice microwave oatmeal, or
a handful of pretzels, or
a stale Pop-Tart, or
a spoonful of peanut butter, or
V-8 (vegetable juice) with hot sauce, or
a small bag of Cheez-It crackers.
I've grown accustomed to these fancy little meals. However, every now and then, the lunch gods look down on me, and my husband hands me my red and black insulated lunch bag as I run out of the house. When I finally get to sit down at my paper-laden, disaster of a desk, I open the bag and find a clear container, holding the most beautiful salad - romaine lettuce, grape tomatoes, cheese cubes and almonds. He has also packed a plastic fork, a napkin, and a can of iced green tea.
For ten minutes, I am human again.
My lunch today consisted of a can of V-8, lots of hot sauce shaken in, and a hard, sour-dough pretzel, the kind that cracks a molar. Somehow, the meal satisfied. As my mother always says. "Cuando hay hambre, no hay mal pan." (When you're hungry, there is no bad bread.)
I only had about 10 minutes to eat. The kids were indoors for recess, and my school is WAY to big to walk ALL the way to the teacher's lounge. Besides, I avoid that space (bad vibes, mean people) unless, of course, someone has brought bagels or some other kind of goodies.
There's nothing like the occasional sunshine fund-sponsored breakfast or special event in the teacher's lounge. We don't admit it, but some of us make sure to stop in, as busy and frenzied as we are, to grab a bagel, a handful of cookies, or a bunch of grapes. (Teachers neatly place these on a small paper plate, covered with a napkin, to take back to their rooms... for their lunch.)
If it wasn't for these occasional treats, many of us would not eat at lunch time. I happen to know many of my colleagues are working through their lunch, there is so much we have to do. I see many of my coworkers gulping down cold coffee, or microwave oatmeal, or kid-size yogurts and juice-boxes, while they write lesson plans, correct papers, make phone calls to parents, and supervise their students for lunch detention.
My nutritious lunches are quite varied! They have been:
a handful of dried fruit, or
a fruit cup or snack-size applesauce, or
a cup of instant cinnamon-spice microwave oatmeal, or
a handful of pretzels, or
a stale Pop-Tart, or
a spoonful of peanut butter, or
V-8 (vegetable juice) with hot sauce, or
a small bag of Cheez-It crackers.
I've grown accustomed to these fancy little meals. However, every now and then, the lunch gods look down on me, and my husband hands me my red and black insulated lunch bag as I run out of the house. When I finally get to sit down at my paper-laden, disaster of a desk, I open the bag and find a clear container, holding the most beautiful salad - romaine lettuce, grape tomatoes, cheese cubes and almonds. He has also packed a plastic fork, a napkin, and a can of iced green tea.
For ten minutes, I am human again.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Riding the train
My students and I had a great week of technology-infused learning.
First, I had the pleasure of wheeling the wireless lab (a cart containing laptops) into my classroom. Until now, other teachers had been monopolizing the cart; I would see it being moved from here to there, to the same rooms every time. I always wondered how those teachers were using them. After talking with the computer teacher, I signed out the lab and was pleased to learn I would be able to keep it for two weeks. Awesome!
So this past week, during the literacy block, I had planned to use the interactive website Into the Book to review and practice using specific reading strategies, such as making connections and visualizing. The site allows students to read passages and practice applying these strategies for comprehension. However, once every student had a laptop at his desk, I was reminded of all the little things you have to go over with 13 kids who are using laptops for the first time. And in my case, it's ELLs who have not had the same access and experience with computers to begin with.
"Open it like this."
"Turn it on... press the power button."
"Press Ctrl and Alt and Del...at the same time...where are the keys?...... Here, and here, and here..."
"Enter the log in..... enter the password.... take Caps lock off!.... Didn't work? Try it again....."
"Type this address into your browser.....
And on and on it went.... 13 times. Wow.
When we finally got going, the kids loved Into the Book. There were, of course, some passages and vocabulary they needed my help with. Overall, the site was useful for my ELLs. We also reviewed some keyboarding skills, so they'll be ready for next week, when we'll try using them during Writer's Workshop.
The second highlight of the week was the grand entrance of the Smart Board, brought to us by the Math coach. We had planned for her to do a 45 min. lesson on attributes, but when she saw how excited my kids were, she ended up staying all morning. She showed us how to set it up, how to use the various functions, and she also did several activities involving math and language arts. The Smart Board is amazing! I was so grateful to her. It was like having my own real-world hands-on training. I'm ready to use it every week in some way. I know I will.
If we are to move our students along academically and linguistically, each and every one of us ought to try new things. I for one do not want my students to be held back by language; technology is for everyone. I know there is some reluctance out there, people who are not yet ready to give things a whirl. And I certainly recognize that time is a factor; I always wondered how I would ever "integrate" technology into my teaching.
Now, it's even more clear to me. It's about making some thoughtful changes and keeping the kids engaged. It's reaching out, teaching, and encouraging each other. This kind of teaching is like jumping on a train and going to exciting places with the most enthusiastic, wide-eyed travel companions.
First, I had the pleasure of wheeling the wireless lab (a cart containing laptops) into my classroom. Until now, other teachers had been monopolizing the cart; I would see it being moved from here to there, to the same rooms every time. I always wondered how those teachers were using them. After talking with the computer teacher, I signed out the lab and was pleased to learn I would be able to keep it for two weeks. Awesome!
So this past week, during the literacy block, I had planned to use the interactive website Into the Book to review and practice using specific reading strategies, such as making connections and visualizing. The site allows students to read passages and practice applying these strategies for comprehension. However, once every student had a laptop at his desk, I was reminded of all the little things you have to go over with 13 kids who are using laptops for the first time. And in my case, it's ELLs who have not had the same access and experience with computers to begin with.
"Open it like this."
"Turn it on... press the power button."
"Press Ctrl and Alt and Del...at the same time...where are the keys?...... Here, and here, and here..."
"Enter the log in..... enter the password.... take Caps lock off!.... Didn't work? Try it again....."
"Type this address into your browser.....
And on and on it went.... 13 times. Wow.
When we finally got going, the kids loved Into the Book. There were, of course, some passages and vocabulary they needed my help with. Overall, the site was useful for my ELLs. We also reviewed some keyboarding skills, so they'll be ready for next week, when we'll try using them during Writer's Workshop.
The second highlight of the week was the grand entrance of the Smart Board, brought to us by the Math coach. We had planned for her to do a 45 min. lesson on attributes, but when she saw how excited my kids were, she ended up staying all morning. She showed us how to set it up, how to use the various functions, and she also did several activities involving math and language arts. The Smart Board is amazing! I was so grateful to her. It was like having my own real-world hands-on training. I'm ready to use it every week in some way. I know I will.
If we are to move our students along academically and linguistically, each and every one of us ought to try new things. I for one do not want my students to be held back by language; technology is for everyone. I know there is some reluctance out there, people who are not yet ready to give things a whirl. And I certainly recognize that time is a factor; I always wondered how I would ever "integrate" technology into my teaching.
Now, it's even more clear to me. It's about making some thoughtful changes and keeping the kids engaged. It's reaching out, teaching, and encouraging each other. This kind of teaching is like jumping on a train and going to exciting places with the most enthusiastic, wide-eyed travel companions.
Monday, February 2, 2009
When sins were small
I sat in the wooden pew, my legs hanging over the edge, toes barely touching the kneeler. My shiny, black hair was still tied back in the braid my mother had twisted that morning, and my plaid jumper retained its pressed pleats. The vast room was warmly lit, by flickering candles on the altar and dusty rays sifting in through colored glass. Whispers and mutterings floated around, telling small children to sit still, wait their turn. I glanced up, saw him approaching, and hurriedly repeated to myself for the hundredth time, the words I would say when the time came.
He leaned over me, arm on the back of the bench, and spoke kindly, though I quickly forgot what he said, for the smell of coffee and tobacco on his breath. But his voice was kind, soft, and Irish. His reddish cheeks, wire-frame glasses over greenish eyes, and tousled brown, wavy hair were endearing to me, a little girl who had her first confession to make. He was Father Matt, my favorite of the three black-clothed men that lived in the rectory, next to the church, by my school.
“Why are you here my child?” he coaxed, as he sat beside me.
“Father, I have sinned.”
The first act of penance followed a script. His turn, my turn, his turn, my turn. I confided in him that I had said a bad word, and that I had stolen a cookie when my mother was not looking. What I was not brave enough to confess was, that I had pinched my baby sister’s leg to make her cry, and that I had snuck into my mother’s bedroom to play with her make-up, dropping a bottle of blood-red Cutex nail polish all over the floor, which I later blamed on my other little sister.
But he forgave me, placing his wide, heavy hand on the top of my head. I received my blessing and walked toward the others, who were in various stages of waiting, reciting, praying, and fidgeting. I kneeled in my assigned row, folded my arms on the bench in front of me, and rested my head. Up high in the choir loft, a lullaby soothed, smoothing my eyes closed. Through sleepy eyes, I watched while the others confessed their baby sins to men, their wrong-doings erased with old words, sent away with smoking incense.
He leaned over me, arm on the back of the bench, and spoke kindly, though I quickly forgot what he said, for the smell of coffee and tobacco on his breath. But his voice was kind, soft, and Irish. His reddish cheeks, wire-frame glasses over greenish eyes, and tousled brown, wavy hair were endearing to me, a little girl who had her first confession to make. He was Father Matt, my favorite of the three black-clothed men that lived in the rectory, next to the church, by my school.
“Why are you here my child?” he coaxed, as he sat beside me.
“Father, I have sinned.”
The first act of penance followed a script. His turn, my turn, his turn, my turn. I confided in him that I had said a bad word, and that I had stolen a cookie when my mother was not looking. What I was not brave enough to confess was, that I had pinched my baby sister’s leg to make her cry, and that I had snuck into my mother’s bedroom to play with her make-up, dropping a bottle of blood-red Cutex nail polish all over the floor, which I later blamed on my other little sister.
But he forgave me, placing his wide, heavy hand on the top of my head. I received my blessing and walked toward the others, who were in various stages of waiting, reciting, praying, and fidgeting. I kneeled in my assigned row, folded my arms on the bench in front of me, and rested my head. Up high in the choir loft, a lullaby soothed, smoothing my eyes closed. Through sleepy eyes, I watched while the others confessed their baby sins to men, their wrong-doings erased with old words, sent away with smoking incense.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Feelin' good and cozy about tests
Today and tomorrow, my school will be in "testing mode". Instead of teaching reading and writing during the customary uninterrupted Literacy Block from 10:30 -12:00, we will all have a "simulation test".
This test is actually a district benchmark math assessment which someone thought could also serve as a simulation for the actual state test. (Brilliant!) In other words, all students from Kindergarten through fourth grade will be tested today.
The "Quiet, TESTING" signs will be up on all of the doors, there will be silence in the halls, proctors will be assigned to every room, and an announcement from the principal will call for the testing to begin and end at the prescribed times. Those of you who are familiar with testing may also know that since my students are ELLs, they have certain accommodations, such as time and a half. Where the general program might have 45 minutes for a particular section, mine have 67. Some students use the time, some don't. Most get frustrated.
All this so our students will feel "comfortable" with the testing environment and time constraints.
My fourth graders are looking at two days of 46 pages containing 50 multiple choice and open-ended questions. A lot of the material on it has not yet been "covered". How can it be? We're always testing!
There's a district reading benchmark test which is supposed to take place "some time" next week; administration is not sure when. We'll also have a district writing benchmark assessment the first week in February.
You know, to make the students feel comfortable with testing.
This test is actually a district benchmark math assessment which someone thought could also serve as a simulation for the actual state test. (Brilliant!) In other words, all students from Kindergarten through fourth grade will be tested today.
The "Quiet, TESTING" signs will be up on all of the doors, there will be silence in the halls, proctors will be assigned to every room, and an announcement from the principal will call for the testing to begin and end at the prescribed times. Those of you who are familiar with testing may also know that since my students are ELLs, they have certain accommodations, such as time and a half. Where the general program might have 45 minutes for a particular section, mine have 67. Some students use the time, some don't. Most get frustrated.
All this so our students will feel "comfortable" with the testing environment and time constraints.
My fourth graders are looking at two days of 46 pages containing 50 multiple choice and open-ended questions. A lot of the material on it has not yet been "covered". How can it be? We're always testing!
There's a district reading benchmark test which is supposed to take place "some time" next week; administration is not sure when. We'll also have a district writing benchmark assessment the first week in February.
You know, to make the students feel comfortable with testing.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Waiting by the window
The snow day was not meant to be. When I gathered the students in the morning, I asked "So, which one of you forgot to wear their pajamas inside out?"
Someone forgot to, I'm sure.
The storm didn't start until around 10 or so, when we were in the middle of math. The class was figuring out how to outfit 89 elves with new hats, coats, belts, pants, and boots, a multiplication and working-with-a-budget lesson. I looked up, and being a big kid myself, I announced "Hey! It's snowing!" and succeeded in distracting everyone for the rest of the lesson. It was my fault.
But we all went to the windows and looked out. It was beautiful. The kids were quiet, peaceful, taking in the view. I stood back, and took in the scene of my kids marveling at nature.
The school then took on a different feel, as it does during the holidays or when it snows. Parents started to stream in to pick up their children, phones began to ring, lessons were brought to closure a little sooner, with the promise of an arts & crafts activity. Some holiday music in the background, a handful of pretzels on every child's desk, glue and glitter... everyone was content.
It snowed all day, quite heavy at times, and we all went home at 3:00.
So, I love my kids and what I do every day. Teaching is my life. But I still want to know one thing:
What's the forecast for next week?
Someone forgot to, I'm sure.
The storm didn't start until around 10 or so, when we were in the middle of math. The class was figuring out how to outfit 89 elves with new hats, coats, belts, pants, and boots, a multiplication and working-with-a-budget lesson. I looked up, and being a big kid myself, I announced "Hey! It's snowing!" and succeeded in distracting everyone for the rest of the lesson. It was my fault.
But we all went to the windows and looked out. It was beautiful. The kids were quiet, peaceful, taking in the view. I stood back, and took in the scene of my kids marveling at nature.
The school then took on a different feel, as it does during the holidays or when it snows. Parents started to stream in to pick up their children, phones began to ring, lessons were brought to closure a little sooner, with the promise of an arts & crafts activity. Some holiday music in the background, a handful of pretzels on every child's desk, glue and glitter... everyone was content.
It snowed all day, quite heavy at times, and we all went home at 3:00.
So, I love my kids and what I do every day. Teaching is my life. But I still want to know one thing:
What's the forecast for next week?
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!
I'm wearing my pajamas inside out tonight.
By the end of the school day, my colleagues and I had checked the weather reports often enough, that we had to discuss snow closings with the children "just in case". We explained three different scenarios: the delayed opening, the early dismissal, and the glorious snow day, my favorite of the three. Listen to the radio, watch the local television station, don't call the school.
My kids were so psyched. I told them about the American custom of wearing your inside-out pjs to bed. They laughed at the idea. They thought it even funnier when I confided in them that, when I get that 6 am call, I plan to jump right back in to bed.
"Why would you do that?"
So my 4th graders are in their beds tonight, hoping for the excitement of playing in the snow tomorrow, an event they may have only lived once or twice before. A snow day is a most magical event in a newcomer's experience.
It is also a most treasured and well-deserved break for an exhausted teacher.
What do you do in anticipation of a snow day? Please share, so I can tell my kids about it next week. Not tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a snow day.
By the end of the school day, my colleagues and I had checked the weather reports often enough, that we had to discuss snow closings with the children "just in case". We explained three different scenarios: the delayed opening, the early dismissal, and the glorious snow day, my favorite of the three. Listen to the radio, watch the local television station, don't call the school.
My kids were so psyched. I told them about the American custom of wearing your inside-out pjs to bed. They laughed at the idea. They thought it even funnier when I confided in them that, when I get that 6 am call, I plan to jump right back in to bed.
"Why would you do that?"
So my 4th graders are in their beds tonight, hoping for the excitement of playing in the snow tomorrow, an event they may have only lived once or twice before. A snow day is a most magical event in a newcomer's experience.
It is also a most treasured and well-deserved break for an exhausted teacher.
What do you do in anticipation of a snow day? Please share, so I can tell my kids about it next week. Not tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a snow day.
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