On the second day of school, this girl was the first one there. I greeted her enthusiastically at the door and encouraged her to put her things away and get started on her morning work.
She sat down, and was a little talkative, but otherwise fine. When it was time to go over morning work, I made sure to call her up early and often. Keeping her involved seemed to really help, but she also came over to me a few minutes later.
"Did you notice? I'm trying really hard to be good." And I gushed about how much I had noticed her effort, and she smiled.
About an hour later, the secretary called down. She had to go to a doctors' appointment. She was gone the rest of the day.
But on the third day of classes, she came back. The morning started out rough, and I nearly called her mom again (as this seems to be the only consequence that really motivates her). She finally let me talk with her, though, and she told me she had a rough morning. I told her I didn't want to make it even rougher by calling home or sending her to the office, but I needed her help for that to happen. I told her I wanted to call her mom or send a note at the end of the day telling her mom what a wonderful job she had done today. She liked that. After we talked for a few minutes, she went back to her seat a little subdued.
Her former teacher had told me that she usually has more trouble before her medicine kicks in, about an hour into the morning. And that may be true, because it did seem like after a point, she wasn't struggling so much to behave, and honestly, just to be in a good mood. I don't know how much of that is the medicine, and how much of that was distancing herself from a rough morning at home, but it did seem like the day improved.
I think she still misses her teacher from the school year, and it's hard because we are in the same classroom. But by the third afternoon, she wrote "I love Miss _______" (me) on the back of one of her papers, and handed it to me proudly.
From making me miserable to saying she loves me in less than three days... well, I think we're making progress! :)
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
My Own Class... Yay? part 1
I started summer school a few days ago. It was my first time having "my" class, even though it's only the most at-risk kids and my class is only 7 kids.
The first day was awful. One girl missed the teacher she'd had all year, and was hell-bent on making me miserable.
She spent the entire day running around the room. She climbed on chairs. She ate Kleenex and paper towels. She drooled all over the floor and her test. She picked things up off of my desk. She opened the drawer of another teacher's desk. She sang loudly from time-out. She ran around the room when I tried to come towards her. She refused to go to the office. She ran out of the room to "stop" a boy who was taking a note to the principal about her. She crawled inside a cabinet. She drove her desk around the room like a car. She crawled on the floor and took off her shoes. She claimed her ear hurt, but after the nurse saw no sign of redness or infection it hurt so bad that she bawled for 45 minutes and wailed, "I want my mommy" for 15. I took her to the office once and called her mom twice.
On the first day.
It's tough, because you want the kids to like you, and yet- you can't let someone walk all over you on the first day. I tried my best to be kind, and talk to her quietly and individually. I tried to raise my voice. I tried to reinforce positive behavior. I tried to enforce consequences. And yet... the whole first day, I chased her around.
I was exhausted. I felt like we didn't get anything done. I wasn't sure what I could've done differently, but her mom had told me that she gets very attached to her teachers and I clung to hope that this was mostly symptoms of a rough transition from one teacher to another (on the very next day, no less).
To Be Continued...
The first day was awful. One girl missed the teacher she'd had all year, and was hell-bent on making me miserable.
She spent the entire day running around the room. She climbed on chairs. She ate Kleenex and paper towels. She drooled all over the floor and her test. She picked things up off of my desk. She opened the drawer of another teacher's desk. She sang loudly from time-out. She ran around the room when I tried to come towards her. She refused to go to the office. She ran out of the room to "stop" a boy who was taking a note to the principal about her. She crawled inside a cabinet. She drove her desk around the room like a car. She crawled on the floor and took off her shoes. She claimed her ear hurt, but after the nurse saw no sign of redness or infection it hurt so bad that she bawled for 45 minutes and wailed, "I want my mommy" for 15. I took her to the office once and called her mom twice.
On the first day.
It's tough, because you want the kids to like you, and yet- you can't let someone walk all over you on the first day. I tried my best to be kind, and talk to her quietly and individually. I tried to raise my voice. I tried to reinforce positive behavior. I tried to enforce consequences. And yet... the whole first day, I chased her around.
I was exhausted. I felt like we didn't get anything done. I wasn't sure what I could've done differently, but her mom had told me that she gets very attached to her teachers and I clung to hope that this was mostly symptoms of a rough transition from one teacher to another (on the very next day, no less).
To Be Continued...
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Not Toyota
Well, I found out about next year.
(As a reminder, my school has used stimulus funding to add an assistant to each classroom. In some cases, these assistants are certified teachers as well- and that's the position I was in this year.)
When I talked with the principal, he sounded like he definitely wanted to move me to a different room for a different experience. I think, based on my evaluations this year, he wants to see if my discipline is better with a different lead teacher. That's fair; I know it wasn't a strength this year even though I didn't have much control over the system.
There are 4 regular classroom openings yet to be filled, but despite that- I'm in an assistant position again for next year. I'll be in first grade with a teacher that is TBA.
It's tough. The openings are there, but my principal just doesn't trust me enough to give me my own classroom yet. My preference was 2nd or 3rd grade, but I'm in 1st. I have to stay in the assistant position but not stay with my current lead teacher, who I work with well and who I know will let me teach.
I understand that he wants me to have a different learning opportunity, but I can't even tell myself, "He specifically put me with this teacher to make me better." Right now, he hasn't put me with any teacher.
I have a job, and I know that in the world of education right now (and especially our state), that alone is an incredible blessing. But although I try to be optimistic, it's frustrating at times to be stuck as a half-teacher. I am certified. I am licensed. And I think, given the chance, I can do this.
But I think I've lost more confidence this year than I've gained. I thought my discipline was fine during student teaching, but this class and group were entirely different. Honestly, after talking with the principal, I expected to be an assistant again- but it still makes me feel like I'm starting over and, after an entire year, I'm not moving forward.
(As a reminder, my school has used stimulus funding to add an assistant to each classroom. In some cases, these assistants are certified teachers as well- and that's the position I was in this year.)
When I talked with the principal, he sounded like he definitely wanted to move me to a different room for a different experience. I think, based on my evaluations this year, he wants to see if my discipline is better with a different lead teacher. That's fair; I know it wasn't a strength this year even though I didn't have much control over the system.
There are 4 regular classroom openings yet to be filled, but despite that- I'm in an assistant position again for next year. I'll be in first grade with a teacher that is TBA.
It's tough. The openings are there, but my principal just doesn't trust me enough to give me my own classroom yet. My preference was 2nd or 3rd grade, but I'm in 1st. I have to stay in the assistant position but not stay with my current lead teacher, who I work with well and who I know will let me teach.
I understand that he wants me to have a different learning opportunity, but I can't even tell myself, "He specifically put me with this teacher to make me better." Right now, he hasn't put me with any teacher.
I have a job, and I know that in the world of education right now (and especially our state), that alone is an incredible blessing. But although I try to be optimistic, it's frustrating at times to be stuck as a half-teacher. I am certified. I am licensed. And I think, given the chance, I can do this.
But I think I've lost more confidence this year than I've gained. I thought my discipline was fine during student teaching, but this class and group were entirely different. Honestly, after talking with the principal, I expected to be an assistant again- but it still makes me feel like I'm starting over and, after an entire year, I'm not moving forward.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Anxious.
It's almost the end of my first year as a real teacher.
I can't believe it. Two more days and I'm officially done with my first year. It's had ups and downs for sure, but it's almost over. I still feel like it's hard to call this my real "first year," because it's not my first year with my own classroom. Teachers' first years are supposed to be crazy stressful, right?
Sometime in the upcoming two days, I should find out where I'll be placed for next year. I'm honestly a little pessimistic, but I am looking forward to knowing, one way or another.
I can't believe it. Two more days and I'm officially done with my first year. It's had ups and downs for sure, but it's almost over. I still feel like it's hard to call this my real "first year," because it's not my first year with my own classroom. Teachers' first years are supposed to be crazy stressful, right?
Sometime in the upcoming two days, I should find out where I'll be placed for next year. I'm honestly a little pessimistic, but I am looking forward to knowing, one way or another.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Thinking in Pictures
When I was still in college, I had the pleasure of having Temple Grandin come talk to one of my classes (in BRNG 2280, for those of you at Purdue; it was a relatively small class, too!). Throughout the semester, we had discussed special needs but my professor had put a special focus on autism by having us read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (which I highly recommend).
Temple Grandin has Asperger's Syndrome, or high-performing autism. Her descriptions of how she thinks differently are so valuable, especially to teachers, because they make you think about how you will adapt to the kids who think in these different ways. They're also just plain interesting for anyone, I think. This kind of 'syndrome' is really the way a lot of people are wired, at least somewhat (as it is considered a 'spectrum'). I know a lot of the traits described here are things that my mom would simply call "being an engineer." :)
Hope you enjoy, and manage not to get sucked into TEDtalks too much. They are almost too great- they make it hard to do anything else once I get started watching!
Temple Grandin has Asperger's Syndrome, or high-performing autism. Her descriptions of how she thinks differently are so valuable, especially to teachers, because they make you think about how you will adapt to the kids who think in these different ways. They're also just plain interesting for anyone, I think. This kind of 'syndrome' is really the way a lot of people are wired, at least somewhat (as it is considered a 'spectrum'). I know a lot of the traits described here are things that my mom would simply call "being an engineer." :)
Hope you enjoy, and manage not to get sucked into TEDtalks too much. They are almost too great- they make it hard to do anything else once I get started watching!
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Mother's Day as a Teacher
This week my class made coffee filter flowers and a book of "Ten Reasons I Love My Mom."
Most kids wrote, of course, for their mom, but we made it clear that Mother's Day can celebrate any important woman in your life. It could be your grandma, your aunt, your babysitter, your stepmom... anyone who helped you and you wanted to appreciate.
One boy in my class couldn't think of anyone. He never met his mom, and he rarely spends time with his grandma. Finally, he decided who he would write about and got to work, writing his neatest and coloring carefully.
And that's how I ended up with a book of reasons he loves me.
It's amazing to think that I am the closest person in his life to a "mom."
Most kids wrote, of course, for their mom, but we made it clear that Mother's Day can celebrate any important woman in your life. It could be your grandma, your aunt, your babysitter, your stepmom... anyone who helped you and you wanted to appreciate.
One boy in my class couldn't think of anyone. He never met his mom, and he rarely spends time with his grandma. Finally, he decided who he would write about and got to work, writing his neatest and coloring carefully.
And that's how I ended up with a book of reasons he loves me.
It's amazing to think that I am the closest person in his life to a "mom."
Saturday, May 08, 2010
Teacher Gifts and Talents
There's a meme going around about "super teacher talents." They're not usually the kinds of things you'd put on a resume, but they are the kinds of day-to-day things you learn. After seeing at least 3 of the blogs I read do it, I couldn't help but try it out.
Some teacher talents I have:
- When I try- neat handwriting, even when digitized on the SmartBoard (probably has something to do with being Zaner-Bloser certified)
- Going at least 8 hours without using the restroom (yes, it's probably unhealthy, but it does come in handy)
- Ability to come up with terrifically awesome lessons that are worth the extensive planning they require, but usually only the night before when it's already late
- Predicting when a student is trying to do something in their desk without me noticing
- Speaking in bad accents when necessary to get the class's attention
- Great at surreptisiously checking to see if that thing-in-her-hair is lice while making her think I'm listening to what she has to say
- Resisting the urge to cringe when that student leans over for a huge hug
- Not being afraid to wear goofy things to school like 'footie' pajamas for a kids' reward
- Knowing just enough about Pokemon to impress them
- Making science sound exciting without making it seem like 'magic'
- Explaining some very basic stoichiometry to high schoolers in a way that helps any of them understand it (as I hate chemistry and found it very difficult, I'm pretty proud of this one)
- Patience to repeat the same phrases and instructions over and over again
- Making any phrase musical or rhythmic, especially for the kindergartners
- Easily filling an extra 5-10 minutes at any given moment
- Can give a kid a fluency test while keeping an eye out for drawing at one station, checking that kids aren't playing games that aren't allowed at the computer station, and listening in on a conversation that's about to become an argument in another group
- Can work a basic copier in record time
- Able to translate primary kids' writing into real words with vowels and everything!
- Telling whether a student actually 'needs' to go to the bathroom or just wants me to think so
- Telling whether a student really feels like s/he needs to throw up or just wants me to think so
- Can use a ridiculous amount of Post-Its
- Ability to avoid the older boys' straight-on hugs where their heads "coincidentally" hit chest height
- Simplifying the science terminology of a crazy-smart Ph.D so that high school students and sometimes even elementary students can understand the basic concepts he talks about
- Distinguishing the handwriting of each individual student when there's a no-name paper
- Good accuracy of pricing 'store' items based on estimated demand
- Noticing new haircuts, clothes, jewelry, and school supplies
- Ability to ride unexpected waves of learning and end up somewhere we never expected
- Acting like every thing a child tells me is the most interesting thing I have heard in my life
There are plenty of teacher talents I am still working on, but I think I'm picking up a lot already.
Some teacher talents I have:
- When I try- neat handwriting, even when digitized on the SmartBoard (probably has something to do with being Zaner-Bloser certified)
- Going at least 8 hours without using the restroom (yes, it's probably unhealthy, but it does come in handy)
- Ability to come up with terrifically awesome lessons that are worth the extensive planning they require, but usually only the night before when it's already late
- Predicting when a student is trying to do something in their desk without me noticing
- Speaking in bad accents when necessary to get the class's attention
- Great at surreptisiously checking to see if that thing-in-her-hair is lice while making her think I'm listening to what she has to say
- Resisting the urge to cringe when that student leans over for a huge hug
- Not being afraid to wear goofy things to school like 'footie' pajamas for a kids' reward
- Knowing just enough about Pokemon to impress them
- Making science sound exciting without making it seem like 'magic'
- Explaining some very basic stoichiometry to high schoolers in a way that helps any of them understand it (as I hate chemistry and found it very difficult, I'm pretty proud of this one)
- Patience to repeat the same phrases and instructions over and over again
- Making any phrase musical or rhythmic, especially for the kindergartners
- Easily filling an extra 5-10 minutes at any given moment
- Can give a kid a fluency test while keeping an eye out for drawing at one station, checking that kids aren't playing games that aren't allowed at the computer station, and listening in on a conversation that's about to become an argument in another group
- Can work a basic copier in record time
- Able to translate primary kids' writing into real words with vowels and everything!
- Telling whether a student actually 'needs' to go to the bathroom or just wants me to think so
- Telling whether a student really feels like s/he needs to throw up or just wants me to think so
- Can use a ridiculous amount of Post-Its
- Ability to avoid the older boys' straight-on hugs where their heads "coincidentally" hit chest height
- Simplifying the science terminology of a crazy-smart Ph.D so that high school students and sometimes even elementary students can understand the basic concepts he talks about
- Distinguishing the handwriting of each individual student when there's a no-name paper
- Good accuracy of pricing 'store' items based on estimated demand
- Noticing new haircuts, clothes, jewelry, and school supplies
- Ability to ride unexpected waves of learning and end up somewhere we never expected
- Acting like every thing a child tells me is the most interesting thing I have heard in my life
There are plenty of teacher talents I am still working on, but I think I'm picking up a lot already.
Friday, May 07, 2010
Back to Normal's Bittersweet
My week was interesting. I normally teach with a 'lead teacher,' so we trade off between planning/ grading, teaching the whole class, and teaching small groups. I very rarely teach the full class all day except when she's absent.
This week she went on a trip with family and was gone for 3 days. Originally, we were booked to have the school's 'permanent sub' all 3 days, and she is so excellent about wanting to do everything she can to help all day. She is bored without enough to do. Melanie left a list for her- kids to pull out for fluency every day, a new bulletin board to do, and sorting through some books from the library. I saved some grading from over the weekend for her.
And on Monday morning, our school was hit with a crazy number of absences. The permanent sub was needed in a kindergarten classroom where both 'regular' teachers were going to be gone, and instead I ended up with an older man who basically sat back and watched me teach all day. At one point when I was lecturing them, he spoke up for a couple of sentences. Other than that, he sat in a chair and didn't even go with me to pick up the kids or take them on restroom breaks. When I did have a rare bit of prep time in our busy no-special day, he wanted to chat. He never once asked if there was anything he could do to help.
Tuesday, the (amazing, couldn't-live-without-her) secretary called down a few minutes before the school day started, saying "Please don't kill me!" Turns out, I was not only without the expected sub- but without one at all.
Not a big deal, except for our two small groups. Oh, and the time when normally I teach a small group in another grade but can't leave the second graders alone. But the other small group teachers were fantastic about adjusting or covering for me, so it worked.
I didn't have a sub on the next day, either, which by that point I kind of expected. And honestly, it's kind of pointless to have a sub. One guy who came to sub at our school this week seriously brought a book and, when handed the plans, was surprised and said, "Oh! Normally when I come here there's another teacher who does most of the teaching." (Annnd now we know why he takes jobs at our school.)
Anyway- in my three-day stint as a teacher solely leading the classroom, the days were varied. Monday was such a bad day that my description to my fiance was "shitfest." The class was just awful overall, and I ended up writing 3 parent notifications as well as handing out 7 "Think Sheets" (in a class of 17).
Tuesday was better, though, and by Wednesday I kind of got in a groove. I felt like the teaching was solid- we got things done, we tried a new seating chart, we followed some teachable moments, the behavior was much better, we did some higher-level thinking, we talked about some life skills like working in teams, and I managed to engineer a good fractions idea that took me all of 5 minutes to plan for. Even better- I didn't have to get to school crazy early or run around frantically to make it happen.
It was a temporary thing, of course. Thursday I went back to sitting at my own desk, using a student computer, checking ideas with someone else, sharing the load. It was back to normal. I get my normal lunch, I don't have to scramble to get coverage for small groups, and I left for home before 5:00... but I also feel like I was just starting to get in the swing of things and feel like maybe I could really run a classroom on my own.
I'll be leading my own classroom for 6 weeks of the summer. I'm only a few weeks away at this point, and I'm still nervous- but I think I'm a little more excited now.
This week she went on a trip with family and was gone for 3 days. Originally, we were booked to have the school's 'permanent sub' all 3 days, and she is so excellent about wanting to do everything she can to help all day. She is bored without enough to do. Melanie left a list for her- kids to pull out for fluency every day, a new bulletin board to do, and sorting through some books from the library. I saved some grading from over the weekend for her.
And on Monday morning, our school was hit with a crazy number of absences. The permanent sub was needed in a kindergarten classroom where both 'regular' teachers were going to be gone, and instead I ended up with an older man who basically sat back and watched me teach all day. At one point when I was lecturing them, he spoke up for a couple of sentences. Other than that, he sat in a chair and didn't even go with me to pick up the kids or take them on restroom breaks. When I did have a rare bit of prep time in our busy no-special day, he wanted to chat. He never once asked if there was anything he could do to help.
Tuesday, the (amazing, couldn't-live-without-her) secretary called down a few minutes before the school day started, saying "Please don't kill me!" Turns out, I was not only without the expected sub- but without one at all.
Not a big deal, except for our two small groups. Oh, and the time when normally I teach a small group in another grade but can't leave the second graders alone. But the other small group teachers were fantastic about adjusting or covering for me, so it worked.
I didn't have a sub on the next day, either, which by that point I kind of expected. And honestly, it's kind of pointless to have a sub. One guy who came to sub at our school this week seriously brought a book and, when handed the plans, was surprised and said, "Oh! Normally when I come here there's another teacher who does most of the teaching." (Annnd now we know why he takes jobs at our school.)
Anyway- in my three-day stint as a teacher solely leading the classroom, the days were varied. Monday was such a bad day that my description to my fiance was "shitfest." The class was just awful overall, and I ended up writing 3 parent notifications as well as handing out 7 "Think Sheets" (in a class of 17).
Tuesday was better, though, and by Wednesday I kind of got in a groove. I felt like the teaching was solid- we got things done, we tried a new seating chart, we followed some teachable moments, the behavior was much better, we did some higher-level thinking, we talked about some life skills like working in teams, and I managed to engineer a good fractions idea that took me all of 5 minutes to plan for. Even better- I didn't have to get to school crazy early or run around frantically to make it happen.
It was a temporary thing, of course. Thursday I went back to sitting at my own desk, using a student computer, checking ideas with someone else, sharing the load. It was back to normal. I get my normal lunch, I don't have to scramble to get coverage for small groups, and I left for home before 5:00... but I also feel like I was just starting to get in the swing of things and feel like maybe I could really run a classroom on my own.
I'll be leading my own classroom for 6 weeks of the summer. I'm only a few weeks away at this point, and I'm still nervous- but I think I'm a little more excited now.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
2, 4, 6, 8...
Wednesday was my first Teacher Appreciation Day as a real teacher.
The principal mentioned it on the announcements, and right after them one girl said "Hey teacher! I appreciate you!"
The PTA was nice enough to get us delicious pizza and salad from a local eatery, and the union put a 100 Grand candy bar in our mailboxes to show "how much we are worth."
They were nice gestures, if not grand. The best moment came from my kids, though.
Lately we have had a lot of behavior problems. I thought I'd give the students some ownership of a solution. I asked the students to each write out 3 people they wanted to sit next to and thought they could work next to. With little exception, they actually seemed to take it to heart and not just put their very best friends down.
One student, though, had an idea (completely on her own). She wanted to sit by me. And when she asked if she could put down my name, three other kids decided to put down my name, too.
I was pretty amazed. They get to choose only three people they want to sit by- and instead of choosing three friends, these kids chose to sit right by their teacher.
Yeah, I felt appreciated. :)
The principal mentioned it on the announcements, and right after them one girl said "Hey teacher! I appreciate you!"
The PTA was nice enough to get us delicious pizza and salad from a local eatery, and the union put a 100 Grand candy bar in our mailboxes to show "how much we are worth."
They were nice gestures, if not grand. The best moment came from my kids, though.
Lately we have had a lot of behavior problems. I thought I'd give the students some ownership of a solution. I asked the students to each write out 3 people they wanted to sit next to and thought they could work next to. With little exception, they actually seemed to take it to heart and not just put their very best friends down.
One student, though, had an idea (completely on her own). She wanted to sit by me. And when she asked if she could put down my name, three other kids decided to put down my name, too.
I was pretty amazed. They get to choose only three people they want to sit by- and instead of choosing three friends, these kids chose to sit right by their teacher.
Yeah, I felt appreciated. :)
Monday, May 03, 2010
Here Comes the Whine
For those of you who don't know me in real life, you may not know I'm engaged.
I'm excited to get married! And I want that to be clear.
Wedding planning, however- terrifying.
Weddings are expensive. Even though I want something simple, I'm a little scared to see how much it's all going to come out to. It doesn't help that job security in education isn't super fantastic right now for a new teacher.
Plus, weddings are complicated. It's supposed to be about you, but yet there are all these expectations. Things you are supposed to because they're tradition. People you're supposed to invite. What you should and should not say to be polite. Religious bits that I'm sure some of my family would consider required but I'm not sure I do anymore. Things my brother will not be happy with because nothing or no one is ever good enough to not be criticized.
I feel like I know a lot of girls who have been waiting for this all their lives. They have dreamed of the ball gown and tiara, the fancy hotel, and the horse and carriage. (These are mostly the same girls with similar dreams for prom.) Some have known their wedding colors for years, or had a 'wedding binder' before they were anywhere close to engaged. I've been engaged well over a year and I know next to nothing about my wedding. I'm just not that girl.For one, I'm indecisive, and for another, I know a wedding isn't the big deal to me.
I haven't been waiting for a wedding. I haven't been wishing for my princess day. A wedding will be nice, but more than that, I'm excited to get married to my fiance. And that's what matters, right?
The planning is still scary, because organization (a very necessary thing in all this) is definitely not my strength. Also, because we're actually getting somewhat close at this point. But hopefully I can enlist some help, like this teacher, to lighten the load. :)
I'm excited to get married! And I want that to be clear.
Wedding planning, however- terrifying.
Weddings are expensive. Even though I want something simple, I'm a little scared to see how much it's all going to come out to. It doesn't help that job security in education isn't super fantastic right now for a new teacher.
Plus, weddings are complicated. It's supposed to be about you, but yet there are all these expectations. Things you are supposed to because they're tradition. People you're supposed to invite. What you should and should not say to be polite. Religious bits that I'm sure some of my family would consider required but I'm not sure I do anymore. Things my brother will not be happy with because nothing or no one is ever good enough to not be criticized.
I feel like I know a lot of girls who have been waiting for this all their lives. They have dreamed of the ball gown and tiara, the fancy hotel, and the horse and carriage. (These are mostly the same girls with similar dreams for prom.) Some have known their wedding colors for years, or had a 'wedding binder' before they were anywhere close to engaged. I've been engaged well over a year and I know next to nothing about my wedding. I'm just not that girl.For one, I'm indecisive, and for another, I know a wedding isn't the big deal to me.
I haven't been waiting for a wedding. I haven't been wishing for my princess day. A wedding will be nice, but more than that, I'm excited to get married to my fiance. And that's what matters, right?
The planning is still scary, because organization (a very necessary thing in all this) is definitely not my strength. Also, because we're actually getting somewhat close at this point. But hopefully I can enlist some help, like this teacher, to lighten the load. :)
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Apple, Cherry, or Student
One of the teacher blogs I read posted recently about a student who was leaving, and it hit home.
My school has a lot of transiency. Only 75% of the kids who were here at the beginning of the year are still here.
It's rough. We're considered a failing school, and we're giving the kids so much this year. The corporation has spent tons of Title I money and stimulus funding to get these kids extra help. We have a student-teacher ratio of something like 8:1 in a high-poverty school. We have an RTI specialist, a reading coach, a math coach, and a specialist to come in and help us with a restructuring process, including a curriculum and assessment calendar. We have a certified teacher or a full-time aide as an assistant in each classroom. We have added an hour of instructional time each day and an extra summer session for struggling students.
And not only have we lost 25% of the kids already, but I have 4 or 5 kids telling me they're moving over the summer. Last year almost half of our student population changed from August 2008 to August 2009.
I know that could change, but it's still somewhat disheartening. I hate seeing these kids leave. I miss them, of course- miss seeing how they're doing, miss being able to teach them, miss talking to them each day- but there's more.
I am sad that they won't be at our school anymore, because some of the kids leaving are the students who can really benefit from the extra attention and extra learning opportunities we have here. One of my students who started out reading almost two grade levels behind has made a ton of growth this year, but will be moving to a new school next year where I doubt she'll be able to get the same amount of individual and small-group time that she needs to catch up. Another student acts out, but as you get to know him you realize that there's something deeper. When asked what he did over Spring Break, he looked away and wouldn't respond. He rarely came to school clean and well-taken-care-of. I hope that a teacher with a bigger class and less resources is able to see the need behind his misbehavior.
It's also frustrating to me because I see our efforts going out the door. We have poured so much into these kids. I'm happy to help the kids, and I would do it even if I knew they'd be moving soon, but we are a school with a reputation of "failing." Our test scores are low. AYP has not been met. And there are kids that we have worked, and worked, and worked with, and they have grown incredibly.
And they're gone. While we took the test this year, many of those students weren't here anymore. Their test scores weren't here to show how much we have taught them. I'm happy they have learned, regardless, but it would be nice to see our school get credit in the public eye for the amazing strides we have made.
I'll post more about this later, but it's so disheartening to see the teachers at my school labeled as "bad" when the turnover of students is so consistent and so high.
If a sports team had to lose half of their team each year and put in players who may or may not be ready for pro level and hadn't been chosen by the team, they would never be expected to win.
But I'm not in sports. And as frustrating as transiency can be, I'm glad for the education we have given the kids in our class this year. Especially the 5 kids who have moved (out of 16 in our class). I hope they are doing okay.
My school has a lot of transiency. Only 75% of the kids who were here at the beginning of the year are still here.
It's rough. We're considered a failing school, and we're giving the kids so much this year. The corporation has spent tons of Title I money and stimulus funding to get these kids extra help. We have a student-teacher ratio of something like 8:1 in a high-poverty school. We have an RTI specialist, a reading coach, a math coach, and a specialist to come in and help us with a restructuring process, including a curriculum and assessment calendar. We have a certified teacher or a full-time aide as an assistant in each classroom. We have added an hour of instructional time each day and an extra summer session for struggling students.
And not only have we lost 25% of the kids already, but I have 4 or 5 kids telling me they're moving over the summer. Last year almost half of our student population changed from August 2008 to August 2009.
I know that could change, but it's still somewhat disheartening. I hate seeing these kids leave. I miss them, of course- miss seeing how they're doing, miss being able to teach them, miss talking to them each day- but there's more.
I am sad that they won't be at our school anymore, because some of the kids leaving are the students who can really benefit from the extra attention and extra learning opportunities we have here. One of my students who started out reading almost two grade levels behind has made a ton of growth this year, but will be moving to a new school next year where I doubt she'll be able to get the same amount of individual and small-group time that she needs to catch up. Another student acts out, but as you get to know him you realize that there's something deeper. When asked what he did over Spring Break, he looked away and wouldn't respond. He rarely came to school clean and well-taken-care-of. I hope that a teacher with a bigger class and less resources is able to see the need behind his misbehavior.
It's also frustrating to me because I see our efforts going out the door. We have poured so much into these kids. I'm happy to help the kids, and I would do it even if I knew they'd be moving soon, but we are a school with a reputation of "failing." Our test scores are low. AYP has not been met. And there are kids that we have worked, and worked, and worked with, and they have grown incredibly.
And they're gone. While we took the test this year, many of those students weren't here anymore. Their test scores weren't here to show how much we have taught them. I'm happy they have learned, regardless, but it would be nice to see our school get credit in the public eye for the amazing strides we have made.
I'll post more about this later, but it's so disheartening to see the teachers at my school labeled as "bad" when the turnover of students is so consistent and so high.
If a sports team had to lose half of their team each year and put in players who may or may not be ready for pro level and hadn't been chosen by the team, they would never be expected to win.
But I'm not in sports. And as frustrating as transiency can be, I'm glad for the education we have given the kids in our class this year. Especially the 5 kids who have moved (out of 16 in our class). I hope they are doing okay.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
cue the tears
I've been making an effort to write more about teaching, mostly because I read a lot of teacher blogs and I end up inspired to write my own posts. Also, teaching is basically my entire life right now. (Yes, I know I need to fix that.)
Anyway, time for just a 'me' post, inspired by a friend here. Miss Kat's blog is pretty new, but she posts about life as a cool mom that I'm sure MiniKat's friends are jealous of, and about nail polish so pretty I actually want to paint my nails (and that's saying something!).
She posted about parents, and the transition from "Mommy and Daddy" to "Mom and Dad" or "Mother and Father." It made me think of my 5th grade year.
I had just started to try out "Mom" and "Dad." I think the switch was a matter of independence. I was almost in middle school, and apparently too 'grown up' to still be calling my parents by babyish names like Mommy and Daddy. I didn't want to sound like a little kid, dependent on my parents. "Dad" wasn't consistent yet, but it had definitely started.
Most of you probably know that my dad died at the end of that school year. I can't quite describe it, but it makes me sad and a little guilty that I didn't always call him "Daddy."
I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, but I guess I realized that little kids aren't just 'dependent.' Especially now that I'm a teacher, I see that little kids love so strongly. Terms of endearment and hugs are frequent, but they are usually genuine. Their affection is just unabashed because they don't care about what other people think, or how it might appear.
Honestly, by fifth grade, I thought that kind of little kid love was kind of embarrassing. I was sure that I was too old for that kind of thing. (Like most 11-year-olds, I think.)
But now that he's gone, I regret not taking advantage of every single opportunity to say "Daddy." I don't care if it was natural and normal to distance myself from my parents; I regret ever wanting any distance between us. I know I would have liked having a different relationship with him when I was older, too, but I never got to. All I ever got to have was the "Daddy's Little Girl" stage, and it kills me that even any little part of me wanted to give that up.
A name may be a little thing, but it feels like it represents a lot more. It's hard to explain, but I wish I would have always used "Daddy," and never given up the chance to love him with the reckless abandon of a little girl.
Anyway, time for just a 'me' post, inspired by a friend here. Miss Kat's blog is pretty new, but she posts about life as a cool mom that I'm sure MiniKat's friends are jealous of, and about nail polish so pretty I actually want to paint my nails (and that's saying something!).
She posted about parents, and the transition from "Mommy and Daddy" to "Mom and Dad" or "Mother and Father." It made me think of my 5th grade year.
I had just started to try out "Mom" and "Dad." I think the switch was a matter of independence. I was almost in middle school, and apparently too 'grown up' to still be calling my parents by babyish names like Mommy and Daddy. I didn't want to sound like a little kid, dependent on my parents. "Dad" wasn't consistent yet, but it had definitely started.
Most of you probably know that my dad died at the end of that school year. I can't quite describe it, but it makes me sad and a little guilty that I didn't always call him "Daddy."
I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, but I guess I realized that little kids aren't just 'dependent.' Especially now that I'm a teacher, I see that little kids love so strongly. Terms of endearment and hugs are frequent, but they are usually genuine. Their affection is just unabashed because they don't care about what other people think, or how it might appear.
Honestly, by fifth grade, I thought that kind of little kid love was kind of embarrassing. I was sure that I was too old for that kind of thing. (Like most 11-year-olds, I think.)
But now that he's gone, I regret not taking advantage of every single opportunity to say "Daddy." I don't care if it was natural and normal to distance myself from my parents; I regret ever wanting any distance between us. I know I would have liked having a different relationship with him when I was older, too, but I never got to. All I ever got to have was the "Daddy's Little Girl" stage, and it kills me that even any little part of me wanted to give that up.
A name may be a little thing, but it feels like it represents a lot more. It's hard to explain, but I wish I would have always used "Daddy," and never given up the chance to love him with the reckless abandon of a little girl.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
My Turn to Tattle
I have recently gotten really into reading other teacher blogs. It's amazing to me to see how similar things are in so many areas of the country right now. Teachers are struggling with the same things.
I recently read in The Elementary Educator:
I knew this kind of thing was happening, but someone putting it all out like that, into numbers, makes me cringe. This is what the national government is encouraging. THIS is the impact of No Child Left Behind.
NCLB is good in some ways. It encourages accountability, and forces schools to look not only at the big picture, but also at important subgroups to make sure that there aren't gaps in the education they provide.
I get frustrated, though, sitting in a "failing" school. It is not fair for the national government's policy to treat us differently than other schools with our levels of success just because our state has refused to drop standards.
Our standards are considered some of the most rigorous in the country, and our standardized test is certainly not passed by 97-100% of students, like the Michigan test.
Let me be clear: I am glad the state of Indiana is holding itself to high standards even though No Child Left Behind in its current state doesn't mandate it. It is frustrating to me, however, that we are facing sanctions that other schools don't face, even if their students are at the same levels as ours.
I strongly support President Obama and Arne Duncan when they say that every state should have standards and tests with similar rigor. I don't believe that National Standards or a National Test are necessarily the way to do that, but I do believe that someone at the national level needs to be looking at each state's standards and tests to determine if they are truly measuring proficiency.
I recently read in The Elementary Educator:
Isn't it astounding?As No Child Left Behind’s magical year of 2014 draws near, where an impossible 100% of students must be proficient in math and reading in every school throughout the United States, states continue to redefine “proficiency,” reducing the cut scores needed to pass the state tests to astoundingly low levels.
In Michigan, for example, third graders who answered 19 out of 45 questions correctly on the math section of the MEAP (our state standardized test) were labeled “proficient.” 19 out of 45 is approximately 42%, which already sounds pathetic, but it gets worse: this test was multiple choice. Not only that, but there were only three answer choices per question!
Let’s analyze that for a moment: third grade students in Michigan who knew the right answers to 6 of the 45 math questions, then guessed with average success on the remaining 39 questions (getting 13/39 correct), are labeled proficient. Not only that, but third graders are tested in the fall of third grade, and the test only covers material from the previous grade. So third graders who understood a mere 13.3% of what was taught in second grade and had average luck when guessing on the other 86.7% of the questions are considered proficient by the State of Michigan.
I knew this kind of thing was happening, but someone putting it all out like that, into numbers, makes me cringe. This is what the national government is encouraging. THIS is the impact of No Child Left Behind.
NCLB is good in some ways. It encourages accountability, and forces schools to look not only at the big picture, but also at important subgroups to make sure that there aren't gaps in the education they provide.
I get frustrated, though, sitting in a "failing" school. It is not fair for the national government's policy to treat us differently than other schools with our levels of success just because our state has refused to drop standards.
Our standards are considered some of the most rigorous in the country, and our standardized test is certainly not passed by 97-100% of students, like the Michigan test.
Let me be clear: I am glad the state of Indiana is holding itself to high standards even though No Child Left Behind in its current state doesn't mandate it. It is frustrating to me, however, that we are facing sanctions that other schools don't face, even if their students are at the same levels as ours.
I strongly support President Obama and Arne Duncan when they say that every state should have standards and tests with similar rigor. I don't believe that National Standards or a National Test are necessarily the way to do that, but I do believe that someone at the national level needs to be looking at each state's standards and tests to determine if they are truly measuring proficiency.
Monday, April 19, 2010
The Classroom Bench
I'm a huge football fan, and I have apparently been reading way too many education blogs this morning.
I read an article describing how much better quarterbacks were in the NFL when they sat on the bench for a year or more before starting. Basically, even if a quarterback had a higher draft pick, and therefore a higher perceived potential, they had significantly better results if they had some time to learn the ways of the NFL behind an experienced quarterback.
And some of the first-round picks who also waited, like Aaron Rodgers and Carson Palmer, have been downright exceptional.
"Since 2000, nine first-round picks started within their teams' first three games. Only Matt Ryan and Ben Roethelisberger have a positive TD/INT ratio in their career."
My conclusion from all this? In what is arguably the most important and influential of positions on an NFL team, only very few can succeed without additional training- even amongst those considered to be the most talented.
I think teaching is similar.
My college of education had a major focus on spending time in schools. From the first semester of education courses (which was generally taken spring of freshman year or fall of sophomore year), future teachers spend at least a short amount of time in a school.
Student teaching (15 weeks in the same classroom, for teaching independently for at least a few weeks) was obviously the biggest learning opportunity, but we had a semester where we spent two days a week in a school, learning from our professors and then visiting the same classroom. We also spent a semester tutoring two students in reading each week.
By the time I graduated, I had spent time in at least 4 different classrooms through the required program alone.
I found a stimulus-funded job in a school with low test scores. As an effort to give students an extra boost, the school was adding a second person in each classroom. For six classrooms, that person is also a certified teacher.
I am considered an assistant teacher. I'm certified, and treated as such, but my lead teacher is overall in charge. I'm lucky that Mrs. M is so great to work with. She treats me as an equal co-teacher whenever possible, and works with me to plan and teach. The situation feels, honestly, kind of like an apprenticeship- and it allows both of us to work in more small groups, keep the students paying attention, and share some of the load of a classroom.
I am lucky to start this way. I am thankful that my first year of teaching does not involve me staying at school until 8:00 at night. I am thankful that I'm getting a chance to sort of ease into the profession, while still learning and collecting materials and ideas from another teacher.
Yes, it sucks sometimes to be "sitting the bench." I didn't get to set up my own classroom, I don't get to change the classroom management system the way I want, and I am sometimes excluded from meetings I'd like to be a part of, but I can see how much easier it will be when I have my own room. I am learning so much.
Student teaching is meant to be like this, and it does help immensely. But I wish more schools had the money to hire teachers in this kind of position even after their student teaching. Not only have the students thrived with so much individual attention, but I think I will be a better teacher in my true "first year" because of my time on the sidelines.
I read an article describing how much better quarterbacks were in the NFL when they sat on the bench for a year or more before starting. Basically, even if a quarterback had a higher draft pick, and therefore a higher perceived potential, they had significantly better results if they had some time to learn the ways of the NFL behind an experienced quarterback.
And some of the first-round picks who also waited, like Aaron Rodgers and Carson Palmer, have been downright exceptional.
"Since 2000, nine first-round picks started within their teams' first three games. Only Matt Ryan and Ben Roethelisberger have a positive TD/INT ratio in their career."
My conclusion from all this? In what is arguably the most important and influential of positions on an NFL team, only very few can succeed without additional training- even amongst those considered to be the most talented.
I think teaching is similar.
My college of education had a major focus on spending time in schools. From the first semester of education courses (which was generally taken spring of freshman year or fall of sophomore year), future teachers spend at least a short amount of time in a school.
Student teaching (15 weeks in the same classroom, for teaching independently for at least a few weeks) was obviously the biggest learning opportunity, but we had a semester where we spent two days a week in a school, learning from our professors and then visiting the same classroom. We also spent a semester tutoring two students in reading each week.
By the time I graduated, I had spent time in at least 4 different classrooms through the required program alone.
I found a stimulus-funded job in a school with low test scores. As an effort to give students an extra boost, the school was adding a second person in each classroom. For six classrooms, that person is also a certified teacher.
I am considered an assistant teacher. I'm certified, and treated as such, but my lead teacher is overall in charge. I'm lucky that Mrs. M is so great to work with. She treats me as an equal co-teacher whenever possible, and works with me to plan and teach. The situation feels, honestly, kind of like an apprenticeship- and it allows both of us to work in more small groups, keep the students paying attention, and share some of the load of a classroom.
I am lucky to start this way. I am thankful that my first year of teaching does not involve me staying at school until 8:00 at night. I am thankful that I'm getting a chance to sort of ease into the profession, while still learning and collecting materials and ideas from another teacher.
Yes, it sucks sometimes to be "sitting the bench." I didn't get to set up my own classroom, I don't get to change the classroom management system the way I want, and I am sometimes excluded from meetings I'd like to be a part of, but I can see how much easier it will be when I have my own room. I am learning so much.
Student teaching is meant to be like this, and it does help immensely. But I wish more schools had the money to hire teachers in this kind of position even after their student teaching. Not only have the students thrived with so much individual attention, but I think I will be a better teacher in my true "first year" because of my time on the sidelines.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
*Tire Screech*
So, Chris and I connected! Things were happy! All was well!
The next day we had a field trip. It was only a couple of blocks away, so we decided to walk rather than use our dwindling bus hours. Many of our students walk to school anyway.
We walked down with no issue. On the way back, though, we were within sight of the school when Chris suddenly ran out into the road for no reason. With cars coming.
I was in front of him and didn't see it happen, but my co-teacher let out a yell and he jumped out of the road. Thankfully, the cars were able to stop (and not hit each other either), but it was much too close for comfort.
Mrs. M latched onto his arm for the rest of the walk (only a couple of minutes) and took him straight into the office. He never was able to offer an explanation for why he did it. He did admit that, as an eight-year-old who walks to and from school every day, he knows he shouldn't have done it.
So, note to self: baby steps.
Also, props to Mrs. M- who may have freaked out, but still managed to not curse in front of her students. Even though it was close. :)
The next day we had a field trip. It was only a couple of blocks away, so we decided to walk rather than use our dwindling bus hours. Many of our students walk to school anyway.
We walked down with no issue. On the way back, though, we were within sight of the school when Chris suddenly ran out into the road for no reason. With cars coming.
I was in front of him and didn't see it happen, but my co-teacher let out a yell and he jumped out of the road. Thankfully, the cars were able to stop (and not hit each other either), but it was much too close for comfort.
Mrs. M latched onto his arm for the rest of the walk (only a couple of minutes) and took him straight into the office. He never was able to offer an explanation for why he did it. He did admit that, as an eight-year-old who walks to and from school every day, he knows he shouldn't have done it.
So, note to self: baby steps.
Also, props to Mrs. M- who may have freaked out, but still managed to not curse in front of her students. Even though it was close. :)
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Happy Day
Little Chris and I have struggled to form a bond, but earlier this week, things were different.
After a professional development meeting on "dealing with difficult behavior issues"- ironically enough- I went back to the room to find Chris not doing his work.
This is common, but I gently encouraged him a couple of times, and then finally squatted down next to his desk to help him get started. I tried to get him to "race" me and see who could find a certain word first on his desk, or let him say the answer verbally while I moved the pieces into place. I joked with him, I put the pieces in front of his face and made goofy faces. He laughed a little, and eventually even got working on his own. After much intensive, one-on-one encouragement, he finished the cut-and-paste project independently.
After that, he refused to get started on the next paper (which he should have started probably an hour prior). I was a little frustrated, because I felt that I'd worked hard for probably at least thirty minutes just to convince him to do one of the things he should have been doing anyway, and then someone said something that made him upset. I talked to him for a couple of minutes, but he seemed to still be a little on edge when we split into our small reading groups.
He came back after the reading group with a principal escort. Apparently he had to be written up in his small group. I was disappointed; I had felt accomplished that I'd put this off for as long as I had. Chris rarely does his work and frequently gets upset when we confront him about it. This morning of us working together, me convincing him to work without him breaking down- it was a victory! It was a step toward our goal, and it seemed partly canceled out by his discipline referral.
In the afternoon, we started again. I was determined to build on the good parts of the morning. We took a spelling pre-test, and he decided to lay on the floor, refusing to get up and try the words. Both teachers talked to him gently, and encouraged him to get up and do his best. My co-teacher eventually asked if we needed to call his mother, which usually helps motivate him, and he got into his seat. The students know our policy is not to repeat words during the test, and when no one would repeat the first two words for Chris at that moment, he threw his pencil across the room. I picked up another pencil and came up behind him. I offered the pencil and told him to try the third word. He was bewildered (because he thought I had gotten the same pencil he threw so quickly), but took the pencil and got started.
After the test, we were sitting down for some standardized testing. I knew there was no way that Chris- although he seemed calmer- was in a state to do his best on the test. While my co-teacher got the students ready to start, I asked Chris to go in the hallway with me.
He thought he was in trouble at first, but I told him I just wanted to talk. I asked him about the test, and as it turns out, he didn't realize it was the pre-test. He was frustrated that he hadn't studied enough and didn't know how to spell the words right. Once I told him it was just the practice test, he seemed so relieved. He started to smile.
I told him that I was so proud of how hard he'd worked that morning on the contraction cut-and-paste, and asked him if we could make a deal. If he worked really hard to follow directions and do his work the rest of the afternoon, I'd give him two pieces of candy.
He went back in and did great on the test, even when I asked him to make his handwriting a little neater. In my math small group, he started to play around until I reminded him of our deal. He said, "Oh! I forgot!" and instantly sat up to get started. I praised him probably ten times that afternoon when he did things well. At the end of the day, he came up to me excitedly. "Did I do it?"
He did. And I could tell he was proud, especially because he didn't have his medicine that day. I gave him the candy, and he happily bounced into line.
It was one day, but it was progress! An otherwise rough day felt positive- and all because, for the first time, I really felt like I connected with this kid.
After a professional development meeting on "dealing with difficult behavior issues"- ironically enough- I went back to the room to find Chris not doing his work.
This is common, but I gently encouraged him a couple of times, and then finally squatted down next to his desk to help him get started. I tried to get him to "race" me and see who could find a certain word first on his desk, or let him say the answer verbally while I moved the pieces into place. I joked with him, I put the pieces in front of his face and made goofy faces. He laughed a little, and eventually even got working on his own. After much intensive, one-on-one encouragement, he finished the cut-and-paste project independently.
After that, he refused to get started on the next paper (which he should have started probably an hour prior). I was a little frustrated, because I felt that I'd worked hard for probably at least thirty minutes just to convince him to do one of the things he should have been doing anyway, and then someone said something that made him upset. I talked to him for a couple of minutes, but he seemed to still be a little on edge when we split into our small reading groups.
He came back after the reading group with a principal escort. Apparently he had to be written up in his small group. I was disappointed; I had felt accomplished that I'd put this off for as long as I had. Chris rarely does his work and frequently gets upset when we confront him about it. This morning of us working together, me convincing him to work without him breaking down- it was a victory! It was a step toward our goal, and it seemed partly canceled out by his discipline referral.
In the afternoon, we started again. I was determined to build on the good parts of the morning. We took a spelling pre-test, and he decided to lay on the floor, refusing to get up and try the words. Both teachers talked to him gently, and encouraged him to get up and do his best. My co-teacher eventually asked if we needed to call his mother, which usually helps motivate him, and he got into his seat. The students know our policy is not to repeat words during the test, and when no one would repeat the first two words for Chris at that moment, he threw his pencil across the room. I picked up another pencil and came up behind him. I offered the pencil and told him to try the third word. He was bewildered (because he thought I had gotten the same pencil he threw so quickly), but took the pencil and got started.
After the test, we were sitting down for some standardized testing. I knew there was no way that Chris- although he seemed calmer- was in a state to do his best on the test. While my co-teacher got the students ready to start, I asked Chris to go in the hallway with me.
He thought he was in trouble at first, but I told him I just wanted to talk. I asked him about the test, and as it turns out, he didn't realize it was the pre-test. He was frustrated that he hadn't studied enough and didn't know how to spell the words right. Once I told him it was just the practice test, he seemed so relieved. He started to smile.
I told him that I was so proud of how hard he'd worked that morning on the contraction cut-and-paste, and asked him if we could make a deal. If he worked really hard to follow directions and do his work the rest of the afternoon, I'd give him two pieces of candy.
He went back in and did great on the test, even when I asked him to make his handwriting a little neater. In my math small group, he started to play around until I reminded him of our deal. He said, "Oh! I forgot!" and instantly sat up to get started. I praised him probably ten times that afternoon when he did things well. At the end of the day, he came up to me excitedly. "Did I do it?"
He did. And I could tell he was proud, especially because he didn't have his medicine that day. I gave him the candy, and he happily bounced into line.
It was one day, but it was progress! An otherwise rough day felt positive- and all because, for the first time, I really felt like I connected with this kid.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Connecting...
A boy in our class who I'll call Chris has a label and a file. In general, he fits in with other students in the class, but occasionally, he gets very upset over something and shuts down.
One day, my prompting for him to get working on morning work and my asking if he needed my help to get started led to him growling at me and crawling under his desk. I let him cool off and my co-teacher (who sometimes reads my mind before I say a thing) went to get the counselor. She returned a few minutes later, saying the counselor was on her way.
But he wasn't done. I encouraged him to fix his morning work as we went through it together, and he crawled out from under his desk but began stabbing his arm with his pencil and scratching his face with his fingernails. I took away a pair of scissors and his pencil, and kept watching the door for the counselor, but I wasn't sure what else to do.
A different day, he was sitting with us at the rocking chair, and in the middle of my reading, with no obvious trigger, Chris walked over and positioned himself underneath his desk. He seems to feel safe there, but I haven't yet figured out exactly what causes this sometimes-behavior.
In general, he is not disruptive; however, he frequently chooses to do no work whatsoever. He doesn't feel like it, and will throw a fit to avoid doing his work. I worry that while he does have an emotional condition, he has realized how to use it to take advantage of his teachers.
Today, I worked with him a lot. It was the first day since he moved here that I feel like I've had a connection with this kid for longer than 5 minutes. It's exciting, and I know I shouldn't expect too much tomorrow, but I'm still hopeful!
P.S.- Hopefully tomorrow I'll get a chance to post more details :)
One day, my prompting for him to get working on morning work and my asking if he needed my help to get started led to him growling at me and crawling under his desk. I let him cool off and my co-teacher (who sometimes reads my mind before I say a thing) went to get the counselor. She returned a few minutes later, saying the counselor was on her way.
But he wasn't done. I encouraged him to fix his morning work as we went through it together, and he crawled out from under his desk but began stabbing his arm with his pencil and scratching his face with his fingernails. I took away a pair of scissors and his pencil, and kept watching the door for the counselor, but I wasn't sure what else to do.
A different day, he was sitting with us at the rocking chair, and in the middle of my reading, with no obvious trigger, Chris walked over and positioned himself underneath his desk. He seems to feel safe there, but I haven't yet figured out exactly what causes this sometimes-behavior.
In general, he is not disruptive; however, he frequently chooses to do no work whatsoever. He doesn't feel like it, and will throw a fit to avoid doing his work. I worry that while he does have an emotional condition, he has realized how to use it to take advantage of his teachers.
Today, I worked with him a lot. It was the first day since he moved here that I feel like I've had a connection with this kid for longer than 5 minutes. It's exciting, and I know I shouldn't expect too much tomorrow, but I'm still hopeful!
P.S.- Hopefully tomorrow I'll get a chance to post more details :)
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Simple Things
I'm exhausted.
I don't know if it's the pre-Spring Break timeframe, or what- but our kids have been just crazy lately. I have generally been of the opinion that repeated behavior problems mean that you (the teacher) need to do something differently. We've been having repeated issues since at least December.
So- Mrs. M and I tried to start a classroom mini-economy, where students could earn coins for doing the right thing. Initially, we wanted to keep it all positive. Later, we added fines to the mix.
This seemed to motivate students for a couple of weeks at the most, although they still really enjoy shopping at the store. Later, a student stole from another's bank. I think at this point we are mostly keeping it going because it's a good continual review of counting money.
We were already doing "team points," where students could earn points for their team. At the end of the week, the team with the most points won some kind of small prize (candy, pop, or a snack we bought). The same teams tend to win repeatedly, and the same few who can't behave tend to spoil it (when together, alone, or separated into groups). Now, teams can't shop in the store on Fridays if they don't have at least ten points.
The school-wide system is to use tickets for good behavior. We haven't done well with these, but we started to give away a ticket for every student left on green at the end of the day. We included a money bonus for days on green.
Our last attempt of change has been to add "free recess" on Friday. This is partly for our own sanity, as we have a very active group. However, we put the letters to "free recess" on the board and they can have letters taken away or they can earn them back.
This week, we have started to time when we have to wait for students to be ready to learn, and we are taking that away from recess. (This has been a particularly rough couple of days. We really don't like taking away recess, usually.)
I think part of our problem is that we have so MANY things going on. For misbehavior, students can be asked to move their circle. (If they move down twice, they have to take home a Think Sheet to be filled out and signed.) They could also lose a team point, lose a letter towards recess, lose recess time, or be fined. For behaving well, students can gain team points, gain money, earn back a letter, earn back some lost recess time, or get a ticket.
It is a lot. Sometimes I think simplicity would be better. But it sticks out in my mind that we have focused on each of these single strategies for a week or two, and none of them have shown many results.
Consistency is key, and I realize that. I realize that the combination of individual, small group, and whole class consequences could lead to a lot of inconsistency. I'm just not sure how to fix it, other than to enforce our consequences. We are also starting two students on individualized behavior plans. I think if these two improve their behavior, many of the other students' will follow. I'm hopeful, but I'm still tired.
Today we had problems with students not falling out of their seats to make others laugh. We are so tired of having to enforce consequences for the simplest things, like sitting. We are so tired of having students repeat the rules to us, or having to ask them to show us the right way, having to practice procedures repeatedly, or needing to state our expectations repeatedly for routine tasks like lining up.
Any suggestions are more than welcome. I'm sick of coming home angry and frustrated (and my fiance probably is, too). If my lead teacher and I can't get this figured out together, I don't know how I'm eventually going to deal with this kind of thing as the sole teacher in my own room.
I just want a day where we can teach. And I'm not sure what I need to change to get us there.
I don't know if it's the pre-Spring Break timeframe, or what- but our kids have been just crazy lately. I have generally been of the opinion that repeated behavior problems mean that you (the teacher) need to do something differently. We've been having repeated issues since at least December.
So- Mrs. M and I tried to start a classroom mini-economy, where students could earn coins for doing the right thing. Initially, we wanted to keep it all positive. Later, we added fines to the mix.
This seemed to motivate students for a couple of weeks at the most, although they still really enjoy shopping at the store. Later, a student stole from another's bank. I think at this point we are mostly keeping it going because it's a good continual review of counting money.
We were already doing "team points," where students could earn points for their team. At the end of the week, the team with the most points won some kind of small prize (candy, pop, or a snack we bought). The same teams tend to win repeatedly, and the same few who can't behave tend to spoil it (when together, alone, or separated into groups). Now, teams can't shop in the store on Fridays if they don't have at least ten points.
The school-wide system is to use tickets for good behavior. We haven't done well with these, but we started to give away a ticket for every student left on green at the end of the day. We included a money bonus for days on green.
Our last attempt of change has been to add "free recess" on Friday. This is partly for our own sanity, as we have a very active group. However, we put the letters to "free recess" on the board and they can have letters taken away or they can earn them back.
This week, we have started to time when we have to wait for students to be ready to learn, and we are taking that away from recess. (This has been a particularly rough couple of days. We really don't like taking away recess, usually.)
I think part of our problem is that we have so MANY things going on. For misbehavior, students can be asked to move their circle. (If they move down twice, they have to take home a Think Sheet to be filled out and signed.) They could also lose a team point, lose a letter towards recess, lose recess time, or be fined. For behaving well, students can gain team points, gain money, earn back a letter, earn back some lost recess time, or get a ticket.
It is a lot. Sometimes I think simplicity would be better. But it sticks out in my mind that we have focused on each of these single strategies for a week or two, and none of them have shown many results.
Consistency is key, and I realize that. I realize that the combination of individual, small group, and whole class consequences could lead to a lot of inconsistency. I'm just not sure how to fix it, other than to enforce our consequences. We are also starting two students on individualized behavior plans. I think if these two improve their behavior, many of the other students' will follow. I'm hopeful, but I'm still tired.
Today we had problems with students not falling out of their seats to make others laugh. We are so tired of having to enforce consequences for the simplest things, like sitting. We are so tired of having students repeat the rules to us, or having to ask them to show us the right way, having to practice procedures repeatedly, or needing to state our expectations repeatedly for routine tasks like lining up.
Any suggestions are more than welcome. I'm sick of coming home angry and frustrated (and my fiance probably is, too). If my lead teacher and I can't get this figured out together, I don't know how I'm eventually going to deal with this kind of thing as the sole teacher in my own room.
I just want a day where we can teach. And I'm not sure what I need to change to get us there.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
A Day in the Life...
Sometimes I feel like my days never end.
If you go here, you can read about a kindergarten teacher's day. Whew- makes me tired just looking at it. By second grade, I only rarely have to deal with "accidents," although we've had a few, and we haven't gotten to go to a planetarium (I wish!). We do have two teachers in the room, but it's still a long day, especially now that our school added an extra hour to the day!
7:55- Arrive at school. Check mailbox. Turn on computer. Write date on the board (4 ways- in cursive, manuscript, abbreviated, and in just numbers). Put out sticks for students to make their lunch choice. Sharpen pencils (after retrieving some from student desks). Check my e-mail. Record where students were on the behavior chart from the day before, and then move up the circles. The other teacher got morning work done, printed, copied, cut, put on desks, and put into a SmartBoard file as well as making sure that we had everything copied for the morning and plans done for the afternoon.
8:15- Kids come in. I pay them 10 cents each for having their homework and reading book. One girl's homework is wet because her sister set her backpack down outside. I leave it out to dry. I break up the circle crowded around someone with a handful of Bakugon cards and remind students to get to work as Mrs. M takes attendance, fills out the lunch count, and fields most of the random questions we get in the morning.
8:25- The bell rings and everyone should be in their seat, working. The announcements come on. It's Friday. Lifelong guidelines. School song. Ticket draw winners for each room. Pledge of Allegiance. Moment of silence. Be safe, Be responsible, Be respectful- and go!
8:35- Go over morning work. Do Calendar.
8:55- Read Aloud by an author we get to meet next month. Mrs. M reads as I check off homework and grade homework and morning work.
9:10- Review vocabulary words using picture cards. One of the words is "precious" and 3 boys won't stop talking like Gollum from LOTR.
9:15- Vocabulary Test. File folder "offices" up, no talking. Read the test aloud.
9:20- Students lead counting by 10's, 100's, 5's, and 2's, while jumping up and down or doing some kind of exercise.
9:25- Tightly scheduled Restroom Break. Wait for another class to finish by playing the Quiet Game. The next class has to wait on us. While we're gone, Mrs. M grades the vocab quizzes and puts them in the gradebook (with amazing speed).
9:30- Spelling Test. Same rules, except with more checking for cheaters with a list inside their desk. Come up with example sentences that are not interesting enough to prompt student talking (surprisingly difficult).
9:40- Reading Comprehension Test over our weekly story in the basal reader. Read aloud the writing questions and remind for the millionth time that their sentences must have a capital, a period, and make sense. Some still forget to do that, or to put their name, or to do every page of the test. Students, for once, read quietly after finishing. This is rare.
10:10- Prefix review and game on the SmartBoard. Recite meanings of pre, re, and un. Two students see a frog on the screen and start making frog noises. I warn them to stop or I take away a letter of our "extra recess" on the board. Everyone wants to come up and touch the SmartBoard to play the game. One girl cries because she doesn't get a chance to come up (a regular occurrence). The frog noises start again. I take away a letter. Other students glare at this student. He yells at them. I explain to him that they are not happy because he did not make a good choice. He continues to argue and yell. I ask him to move a circle and ask the rest of the class to look at the board. We try a third grade game, and they are excited to prove to me that they can do it even though they are in second grade. (And they rock.)
10:30- Introduce suffixes, which we are working on next week.
10:35- Call students to the rocking chair. Count down for them to get there. Announce they need to do a "self-check" so they are sitting criss-cross-applesauce, on their pockets, with their back to the yellow wall. Read aloud the reading story for next week, stopping to ask questions and stop the talking- which doesn't leave us enough time for centers this morning. Mrs. S grades the spelling and reading tests and puts them in the gradebook.
10:55- Students go back to their seats to preview the story in their reading books. (We talk about what "preview" means because of the prefix -pre.) Some forgot their book and have to share, which somehow breeds drama. A page is torn and I tape it.
11:00- STAR Reading. Kids are split up by ability throughout the grade level, so many students leave the room. 4 kids come to my table. I gather everything a girl will need to "be the teacher" today. This is "her" chapter of the book. She has prepared. She has written a quiz. She will sit in the teacher chair and decide who earns a piece of candy at the end, and she does wonderfully. I sit in a student chair and let her lead us through the lesson I modeled. The kids crack up at me, especially if I misbehave (usually in the same way the "teacher" does). She decides I was good enough to earn a piece of candy, though, and I give her an extra special treat for being such a good teacher today.
11:30- Mrs. S does a read-aloud from our chapter book at the rocking chair. I make a list of things we need to do this afternoon during prep.
11:37- Kids get their coats and line up. The line is straight and quiet. We add a letter on the board.
11:40- We leave for lunch. I stay with them for lunch duty while Mrs. S goes to eat. I help open ketchup packets, I stop students from breaking their styrofoam trays into pieces, I salvage a piece of pizza that had milk spilled on it, I give a hug, I talk to kids, and I help direct kids away from where another teacher cleans up a spill (while yet another teacher takes the kid to the office for dropping his lunch tray intentionally and squirting the milk out after he got mad that he supposedly didn't get the lunch choice he ordered). Later, as the kids line up, I give our students a countdown to line up correctly before I take away a letter. I take away 5 minutes of recess for a boy who hit someone else in the stomach.
11:55- Even before the kids are all lined up, I leave to walk to the other end of the school, pick up my rolling cart, and go teach kindergarten STAR. When we get down there, a substitute hasn't shown up yet for a teacher who left sick. (She shouldn't have been there in the morning, but she came in for half a day so she could write plans and get things ready for the afternoon.) The substitute's group is 12 kids, and they can't be left on their own, so we cancel STAR. One girl from my group really wants to work with me, and she could use the one-on-one help, so her teacher lets me pull her out anyway. We work in the hallway because she thinks it's exciting and we practice her letter names and sounds. I quiz her. She quizzes me. She's getting really good at her letters! I stop to talk to her teacher for a minute. Her teacher tells me the girl's grandmother would like her to stay an extra year in kindergarten, which would be great for her (she's finally making some progress!). She tells me the grandmother is taking care of the girl because the mom is dating someone of a different race who doesn't like her having a white daughter. As the grandmother said, "How can you say your daughter is too white for you?" But Grandma is taking care of her, and reading with her, and practicing her letters and math- thank goodness.
12:20- I go back to the room to see a sub looking around aimlessly. Mrs. M is collaborating with the other grade-level teachers this afternoon, but is at lunch and hasn't yet put out any plans. I put away my cart, grab my lunch, and go to find Mrs. M. (She was on her way back anyway.)
12:30- I'm finally in the teachers' lounge, but there are no seats open. Once I get a chair from the other room, I can sit and eat. Ahhh.
That's just the morning, and honestly the afternoon isn't terrible (double special day!), but I figure you get the idea. By the end of the day, I'm exhausted, and when I stop to think about it, it's no wonder- and that's with two teachers.
All of you out there who make it on your own classroom... hats off, and enjoy your weekend! You deserve it :)
If you go here, you can read about a kindergarten teacher's day. Whew- makes me tired just looking at it. By second grade, I only rarely have to deal with "accidents," although we've had a few, and we haven't gotten to go to a planetarium (I wish!). We do have two teachers in the room, but it's still a long day, especially now that our school added an extra hour to the day!
7:55- Arrive at school. Check mailbox. Turn on computer. Write date on the board (4 ways- in cursive, manuscript, abbreviated, and in just numbers). Put out sticks for students to make their lunch choice. Sharpen pencils (after retrieving some from student desks). Check my e-mail. Record where students were on the behavior chart from the day before, and then move up the circles. The other teacher got morning work done, printed, copied, cut, put on desks, and put into a SmartBoard file as well as making sure that we had everything copied for the morning and plans done for the afternoon.
8:15- Kids come in. I pay them 10 cents each for having their homework and reading book. One girl's homework is wet because her sister set her backpack down outside. I leave it out to dry. I break up the circle crowded around someone with a handful of Bakugon cards and remind students to get to work as Mrs. M takes attendance, fills out the lunch count, and fields most of the random questions we get in the morning.
8:25- The bell rings and everyone should be in their seat, working. The announcements come on. It's Friday. Lifelong guidelines. School song. Ticket draw winners for each room. Pledge of Allegiance. Moment of silence. Be safe, Be responsible, Be respectful- and go!
8:35- Go over morning work. Do Calendar.
8:55- Read Aloud by an author we get to meet next month. Mrs. M reads as I check off homework and grade homework and morning work.
9:10- Review vocabulary words using picture cards. One of the words is "precious" and 3 boys won't stop talking like Gollum from LOTR.
9:15- Vocabulary Test. File folder "offices" up, no talking. Read the test aloud.
9:20- Students lead counting by 10's, 100's, 5's, and 2's, while jumping up and down or doing some kind of exercise.
9:25- Tightly scheduled Restroom Break. Wait for another class to finish by playing the Quiet Game. The next class has to wait on us. While we're gone, Mrs. M grades the vocab quizzes and puts them in the gradebook (with amazing speed).
9:30- Spelling Test. Same rules, except with more checking for cheaters with a list inside their desk. Come up with example sentences that are not interesting enough to prompt student talking (surprisingly difficult).
9:40- Reading Comprehension Test over our weekly story in the basal reader. Read aloud the writing questions and remind for the millionth time that their sentences must have a capital, a period, and make sense. Some still forget to do that, or to put their name, or to do every page of the test. Students, for once, read quietly after finishing. This is rare.
10:10- Prefix review and game on the SmartBoard. Recite meanings of pre, re, and un. Two students see a frog on the screen and start making frog noises. I warn them to stop or I take away a letter of our "extra recess" on the board. Everyone wants to come up and touch the SmartBoard to play the game. One girl cries because she doesn't get a chance to come up (a regular occurrence). The frog noises start again. I take away a letter. Other students glare at this student. He yells at them. I explain to him that they are not happy because he did not make a good choice. He continues to argue and yell. I ask him to move a circle and ask the rest of the class to look at the board. We try a third grade game, and they are excited to prove to me that they can do it even though they are in second grade. (And they rock.)
10:30- Introduce suffixes, which we are working on next week.
10:35- Call students to the rocking chair. Count down for them to get there. Announce they need to do a "self-check" so they are sitting criss-cross-applesauce, on their pockets, with their back to the yellow wall. Read aloud the reading story for next week, stopping to ask questions and stop the talking- which doesn't leave us enough time for centers this morning. Mrs. S grades the spelling and reading tests and puts them in the gradebook.
10:55- Students go back to their seats to preview the story in their reading books. (We talk about what "preview" means because of the prefix -pre.) Some forgot their book and have to share, which somehow breeds drama. A page is torn and I tape it.
11:00- STAR Reading. Kids are split up by ability throughout the grade level, so many students leave the room. 4 kids come to my table. I gather everything a girl will need to "be the teacher" today. This is "her" chapter of the book. She has prepared. She has written a quiz. She will sit in the teacher chair and decide who earns a piece of candy at the end, and she does wonderfully. I sit in a student chair and let her lead us through the lesson I modeled. The kids crack up at me, especially if I misbehave (usually in the same way the "teacher" does). She decides I was good enough to earn a piece of candy, though, and I give her an extra special treat for being such a good teacher today.
11:30- Mrs. S does a read-aloud from our chapter book at the rocking chair. I make a list of things we need to do this afternoon during prep.
11:37- Kids get their coats and line up. The line is straight and quiet. We add a letter on the board.
11:40- We leave for lunch. I stay with them for lunch duty while Mrs. S goes to eat. I help open ketchup packets, I stop students from breaking their styrofoam trays into pieces, I salvage a piece of pizza that had milk spilled on it, I give a hug, I talk to kids, and I help direct kids away from where another teacher cleans up a spill (while yet another teacher takes the kid to the office for dropping his lunch tray intentionally and squirting the milk out after he got mad that he supposedly didn't get the lunch choice he ordered). Later, as the kids line up, I give our students a countdown to line up correctly before I take away a letter. I take away 5 minutes of recess for a boy who hit someone else in the stomach.
11:55- Even before the kids are all lined up, I leave to walk to the other end of the school, pick up my rolling cart, and go teach kindergarten STAR. When we get down there, a substitute hasn't shown up yet for a teacher who left sick. (She shouldn't have been there in the morning, but she came in for half a day so she could write plans and get things ready for the afternoon.) The substitute's group is 12 kids, and they can't be left on their own, so we cancel STAR. One girl from my group really wants to work with me, and she could use the one-on-one help, so her teacher lets me pull her out anyway. We work in the hallway because she thinks it's exciting and we practice her letter names and sounds. I quiz her. She quizzes me. She's getting really good at her letters! I stop to talk to her teacher for a minute. Her teacher tells me the girl's grandmother would like her to stay an extra year in kindergarten, which would be great for her (she's finally making some progress!). She tells me the grandmother is taking care of the girl because the mom is dating someone of a different race who doesn't like her having a white daughter. As the grandmother said, "How can you say your daughter is too white for you?" But Grandma is taking care of her, and reading with her, and practicing her letters and math- thank goodness.
12:20- I go back to the room to see a sub looking around aimlessly. Mrs. M is collaborating with the other grade-level teachers this afternoon, but is at lunch and hasn't yet put out any plans. I put away my cart, grab my lunch, and go to find Mrs. M. (She was on her way back anyway.)
12:30- I'm finally in the teachers' lounge, but there are no seats open. Once I get a chair from the other room, I can sit and eat. Ahhh.
That's just the morning, and honestly the afternoon isn't terrible (double special day!), but I figure you get the idea. By the end of the day, I'm exhausted, and when I stop to think about it, it's no wonder- and that's with two teachers.
All of you out there who make it on your own classroom... hats off, and enjoy your weekend! You deserve it :)
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Oh, uh, WHAT?!
I have lunch duty and I actually love it. Our lunchtime is rarely crazy, so I generally get to circulate through the cafeteria and talk to kids in a totally different way than we talk throughout the rest of the day. I've gotten to know kids that I wouldn't otherwise know.
Every once in awhile, though, you hear something that you don't expect.
Yesterday, a girl says "His dad is bad," pointing at her neighbor. She goes on to explain, "He killed a guy last night."
And he turns to her and covers his mouth with a finger to shush her. He doesn't look scared that I'll find out, but he does want this to be a "secret," or so it seems.
Now is this some made-up story a kid's telling to brag that his dad is cool? Is this some reference to a video game taken seriously? Is this exactly what it sounds like?
I have no idea at all, but I was definitely surprised and made sure to report it to our school counselor. Because it may have been completely fictional, but I would still rather tell someone than make an assumption. Sometimes these kids have to deal with knowing some pretty heavy things.
Every once in awhile, though, you hear something that you don't expect.
Yesterday, a girl says "His dad is bad," pointing at her neighbor. She goes on to explain, "He killed a guy last night."
And he turns to her and covers his mouth with a finger to shush her. He doesn't look scared that I'll find out, but he does want this to be a "secret," or so it seems.
Now is this some made-up story a kid's telling to brag that his dad is cool? Is this some reference to a video game taken seriously? Is this exactly what it sounds like?
I have no idea at all, but I was definitely surprised and made sure to report it to our school counselor. Because it may have been completely fictional, but I would still rather tell someone than make an assumption. Sometimes these kids have to deal with knowing some pretty heavy things.
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