Why I teach

I watched my student cry from across the room. She drew in a shaky breath. Tears dripped off her nose. She gulped air and turned the page. Someone got up and got her a tissue but no one else seemed to notice. The last chapter of Where the Red Fern Grows gets them every time. At that moment, I felt like such a teacher. In the best sense of the word. Who else gets to be there right at that moment when a person discovers the power of words?

The other day we pulled out the globe. The kid in the yellow sweatshirt was the sun and we rotated and orbited around him. We talked about the Reason for the Seasons. Realization dawned and half a dozen voices piped up. Really? No, wait, really that's why?

I love my job because every day I get to watch people doing things that they didn't know how to do yesterday. They learn because of me, and that's really, very cool.

Two weeks in...

I feel like teaching again. Last year was so tough, that I was literally counting the minutes until the thing was over and I could just go home. Normally, I'm one of those teachers who leaves the classroom in June with a head full of excitement and ideas for the next school year. This summer, though, I couldn't even stomach the thought of school until mid-August when I really had to start getting my head in the game. And now here I am, two weeks down and absolutely loving it. I told my kids today before they left, "Last week, you guys were pretty much strangers, but now you're starting to feel like my people." I think it's going to be a great year.

An exercise in thinking positive

After the day I had at work, I'm choosing to hone in on as many positive things that happened as I can. That way maybe I'll feel like going back tomorrow.

1. My writing lesson kicked butt. I've taken over the writing instruction in my classroom for this last quarter of the year (long story there) and it is rockin' so far. The kids are engaged. They want to write every spare minute of the day. It is the most positive time of my day because even the kids who struggle at so many other things are finding success in writing this week. I love it.

2. One of my struggling reading groups is just taking off this week. These are the kids who normally read for five minutes and then mentally wander around the room for the other 25 minutes of independent reading. They are so jazzed about the two books we are working on (Maniac Magee for the whole class and Bunnicula for their small group) that I think they forgot that they don't like reading. This is excellent news!

3. I practically fell into a piece-of-cake club for this last quarter. After waiting until the last minute to declare my club (I decided to do Paper Airplane Statistics Club) I was notified that someone was already doing a Club That Has Something to Do with Flying Things. This was like the last straw after a mostly very bad day (which I'm choosing not to write about, of course). So, five minutes before I had to leave I was scrambling for a club idea when my VP suggested I do the Reading Club. Now this is such a cushy club (think kids sacked out on pillows reading) that I just assumed that someone had already snatched it up. But she said that no one had picked it yet, so viola! I ended up with the best club of all, somehow.

4.

I'm sure there must have been something else that went right at work, but I have forgotten it. In any case, this exercise seems to have worked. I feel like going back tomorrow, which is a vast improvement on my mood thirty minutes ago!

This is my favorite time of the year (besides September, but then there isn't much that can compete with The Reno Rib Cook-off.) This is my favorite teaching time of the year. State tests are finished. Whether we passed them or not, there's not much I can do about it now. Gone are the days of poring over the standards looking for the one skill I might have forgotten to cram in teach before the Tests. No more am I trading PE time for test prep. (Gulp-can you believe I actually did that?) I can now teach what I know they need to know but in a way that applies the learning to real life, not bubbled-in-answer life. It's liberating.

I also like this time of year because my class pretty much feels like family now. Even the stinkers have a little place in my heart. Every year at this time it's weird to think that next year they'll be someone else's kids and that I'll feel this way about a whole new class. Not that I won't be just a tiny bit happy to see them go. Okay, after the year that I've had, I'll be more than a tiny bit happy, to be honest.

Next month, I'll likely start my "Next Year Notebook" where I will spend whole hours chunks of minutes daydreaming about the very smart changes I'll make to my practice next year. That's one of the best parts of teaching--getting to start over every September. April is a perfect time to evaluate what worked, what could work better and what would be better to discard completely.

Probably the best, best part of March is that the countdown for summer is now on. Third quarter report cards go out this week, which means the weeks remaining are in the single digits. Warm weather and longer days cement into my subconscious the knowledge that summer is right around the corner.

Here we are, being silly

Sick Day

One crappy thing about being a teacher is you can't just call in sick. Calling in involves taking a good hour to write substitute plans and assemble all the gobbledygook that goes along with them. Upon waking my kids up for school and finding that one of them is sick, I usually fall into a frenzy, throwing on sweats, flying to the school so that I can excavate my desk and whip it into some semblance of organization for the sub. Then there is the great debate. Do I actually have the sub try to teach something or do I stick everyone with 6 hours of busywork? With CRTs two weeks away, my conscience won't let me go the busywork route. Don't get me wrong, we do have some great subs at my school--but they're just not me, you know? Then there's the classroom that I go back to tomorrow. A stack of busywork to grade (or more realistically to throw in the garbage when no one is looking) and a list of kids who were screwing with the sub to discipline. At least my desk is clean.Steve has it easy. If he were to wake up sick tomorrow morning and decide to stay home, here's how it would go: He'd say in a most groggy voice "Dee, I'm sick...will you bring me the laptop?" After I placed the laptop onto the bed next to him, he would roll over and crack one eye long enough to send an email, before pulling the covers back over his head and falling asleep again. He doesn't even have to call in. He emails in sick. Even though it is way harder for me to stay home (in my opinion, of course--he might argue that statement), we do take turns staying home when the kids are sick. So here I am--AJ's watching TV on the couch, I'm catching up on my blog and getting ready to clean house, grade papers and pay bills. I kind of wish I were sick so I could justify sitting on the couch all day with her. I do plan to catch up on Grey's Anatomy while she's sleeping, so the day isn't completely lost.

Harvest

I made it out to the garden this morning and found that the garden doesn't care whether I visit regularly or not. Stuff just keeps growing and growing without me. I cut one of the smaller giant zukes up into strips, dipped the strips in tempura batter and deep fried them. I haven't deep fried anything since I started weight watchers five years ago. Man, they were yummy! I'm not sure what I'm going to do with all those cucumbers, though. I'll put them in the teacher's lounge tomorrow. Every teacher knows that the lounge is like the black hole for food. I once put a nine-by-thirteen pan of Mom's pistachio dessert out before school started and that sucker was gone by first recess. It looked like they had licked the pan. I bet the cucumbers don't go that fast, though.

Anyone have a recipe that calls for humongous zucchini? I can't let them go to waste since it was my beginning-of-the-school-year neglect that made them like this. I'm personally responsible. When I first saw them out there this morning I felt actual guilt. Like some mad scientist experimenting in zucchini deformity. My conscience won't allow me to make fried zucchini every night this week and we've had more than enough zucchini bread this summer. I don't think they'll be good sauteed, but I guess I could try it. I could send zucchini sticks in Munchkin's backpack for snack (but he'd probably disown me). I thought about entering them for a giant zucchini prize in the county fair, but we don't have a fair, here. Can you use them to carve jack 'o lanterns? I promise to garden responsibly from now on.

Remembering 9/11

Go read Mary Alice's post on 9/11.

I talked to my fifth graders about 9/11 today. They noticed the date this morning and were commenting--"Oh, hey, it's 9/11, guys." I think someone else said, "Cool." September 11 has taken on a kind of folkloric feel for our kids who were, like my students, two or three years old when it happened. So I talked to them about it. I told them about waking up to the phone ringing and what I saw on TV that morning and how scary it was to not know if we were safe. I drew a sketch of the twin towers and showed how they collapsed and told them that thousands of people died--people who had just gotten up to go to work that morning. When I was done talking, their hands flew up. Where were the terrorists from? Why did they do this? I answered the best I could. I told them about our freedom and compared it to what life was like for people, and especially women under the Taliban in Afghanistan. I made them understand that the freedom we have is the reason I'm such a stickler about the Pledge of Allegiance. I think we are so used to enjoying the freedom of our country that we forget its cost. We forget that American families such as Mary Alice's are sacrificing for that freedom every day.

I miss you, blog

Between teaching a new grade level and having almost thirty kids in my class, Munchkin's soccer, and being on the PTA board--I'm not sure I'm going to make it through September. Just the paper grading alone is enough to put me under (and I've kind of prided myself on speedy grading practices in the past). I feel like I'm bringing mountains of papers home at night. Nose-picking and bloody teeth falling out aside, 2nd grade was nice in that the grading was pretty easy. I think the problem is that my personal life (well, not that it feels like my life is mine, personally, right now) isn't allowing me to stay late at school this year like I have in the past. It's amazing how much we really do have to work outside our contracted hours in order to do our job well. (If you disagree with that statement...please let me know how you do it!)

I miss blogging, I miss reading. I miss gardening (I'm sure I have zucchini out there the size of watermelons, right now). I will figure out a way to take care of myself this school year. I hope you are doing the same, faithful blog-reader.

Dog Tired

I am drug out dog tired tonight. I got up 30 minutes early this morning to work on lesson plans because it's too hard to work in the morning with the Munchkin in my classroom. Not that I don't appreciate his singing the ABC's on my classroom microphone. It's just hard to get much done when you are reminding someone to EAT YOUR BREAKFAST for the thirtieth time in as many minutes. School started and I taught until lunch. By "lunch" I mean the sandwich that I ate while hovering over the RIZO machine making copies for the PTA. I taught until school was out...wait, you have a prep every day, too? It seems like everyone in the world has a daily prep period except for Northern Nevada teachers. Make that Northern Nevada elementary school teachers. (Yeah, middle and high school teachers, I'm glaring at you right now). I worked until 4:45 doing the stuff that I might have done had I had a prep today, then ran and picked up the kids. At home I tumbled them out of the car and into soccer gear, ate a speedy dinner of microwaved fat-free hot dogs, and tossed them back into the car. We headed to the park for the game. I think the soccer game was the first time I sat down all day; that is, until Bean pooped her pants. Thankfully it was at the end of the game since there were no paper towels or toilet paper in either bathroom. We headed back home for baths, books and bed, after which, I worked on some more beginning-of-the-year parent phone calls (I have to call them all by Friday). Writing this blog is the first thing I've done for myself all day! The Geek is in school tonight so I won't see him until tomorrow. He gets mad when I say how easy it would be to just get to go sit in class for a while and I know how much he misses the kids during the semester. I do have to say, though, that after a day like today, sitting in class sounds kind of nice. (Sorry Geek. I love you.)

Week One under my belt

Having a three day weekend after the first week of school is a gift. We spent the day yesterday at the University football game; today I'll be unearthing my house from a week of utter neglect and I still have tomorrow to play with. (I didn't want to tell you that tomorrow I'll be going in to work on lesson plans and grading and parent phone calls that are due Friday). But hey, at least I'm not doing those things today, along with the housecleaning.

The Munchkin started kindergarten. I've never been a my-child-can-do-no-wrong parent. However, I'm afraid I am guilty of knowing that my child is surely the smartest, most special child in the class. I'm sure Mrs. B can just see the parental love radiating from him when he's standing among his peers. I wonder if all parents feel this way. I guess I should make my parent phone calls extra positive this week.

I am thrilled to be teaching fifth graders. I did my time in second grade last year in order to get a job close to home and this first week back with older kids has completely reaffirmed that I am an intermediate teacher at heart. I decided to focus hard on procedures the first two weeks of school--sharpening pencils, formatting math homework, writing journal entries, even how to stand up and push in your chair. I figure if I take care of all the piddly crap these two weeks, then I can spend the rest of the year just teaching. This seems like a really neat group of kids. I think it's going to be a great year.

I guess I can't put off the housework any longer. Thanks for reading my blog. I enjoy your comments. (Come on--don't make me cry when I check my blog and see yet another post with "0 comments." Okay, shameless comment begging complete. Have a great long weekend!

Concert Tickets

So, the Geek bought tickets to see Dave Matthews Band in Sacramento. This is about the most perfect way I could think of to end the summer. We've been wanting to see DMB since....forever. One small problem. The concert is wayyyy at the end of summer. So far at the end of summer that it is actually on the first day of the new school year. We can't go, I whined. How could you spend so much money on tickets without paying attention to the date? I implored. The district wouldn't even let me take a personal day the first week of school, even if I was crazy enough to want one, I moaned. Besides, it's the Munchkin's First Day of Kindergarten, practically one of the most important days of his life, I huffed. The Geek assured me he could sell the tickets on Craigslist since the concert is sold out. Sob.

I was at Book Club last month griping about not getting to go to The Concert (we have to warm up before we start talking about the book) and my dear friend J said, "Well, why don't you just go?"

I hadn't thought of it that way. I could just go.

I worked out some of the details on my drive home. The Geek will pick the Munchkin up from AM kindergarten and take him and the Bean to a sitter for the night. He'll be there to pick me up right when the bell rings at 3:15, we'll drive the three hours and we might not even miss the opening act. We'll drive back that night and I'll be tired as hell at work the next day, but who cares--It's Dave Matthews Band!

When I got home from book club and crawled into bed with the Geek, I told him the good news. The next day he emailed me from work, "So who in Book Club do I have to thank for changing your mind?" I glared at him, or at his email anyway. How do you know it wasn't just my idea? I didn't have to ask. He knows me too well. As I get closer to thirty, I'll try not to always be so practical.

It's going to be great!

Here, let me help

At the park today I met a fellow Mom and while we were watching the kids, we got to talking about her fifteen year-old daughter. "She is really behind in math because of a sort-of disability she had when she was younger, though she tries so hard," this Mom said. She is worried about her going to high school next year.

I was doing dishes tonight and worrying about this kid. That's part of the curse blessing of being a teacher--that when you have a free minute, you often end up contemplating any of your 25 other kids. I was also thinking about Mary Alice's recent post about serving the people in our own communities. I thought, why can't I just take a couple hours out of my week to tutor her? It's not like I don't have time this summer. I mean, come on--I spent 15 straight minutes thinking about bugs in my garden this morning.

Anyway, I decided to offer to tutor her daughter. I typed her an email real quick and sent it before I could talk myself out of it. I really hope she takes me up on it because I think I could get this kiddo out of basic math by the end of the summer.

There have been other times when I've wanted to offer my help by tutoring but I just didn't do it. I'm not sure if I'm afraid I wouldn't do a good job (which seems silly, even as I'm typing it) or if I'm afraid of being turned down. That's probably what it is. I don't want this mom to think I'm creepy for offering semi-long-term help to someone I don't even know. As I'm heading into my 30's, though, I think it would behoove me to quit worrying so much about how other people see me. I think it would also do me some good to give back to the people in my community. Thus far, the extent of my community service has been to call and have Good Will come pick up the crap I didn't sell in the yard sale. They're nominating me for an award for that awesome gesture.

Anyway, I hope I hear back from this Mom. I'll keep you posted. Thanks for reading my blog!

Just show up when you feel like it!

I'm on the Executive Board for my PTA and today we had training from 9:00 to 2:00. To me, that means get there a little before 9:00 to check in and find a seat--maybe run to the restroom. With that in mind, I thought I was running late. I drove a stinking 75 miles per hour on the freeway. I hate being late. I was surprised to find that I was only the second person to check in. Everyone else came trickling in after me and kind of milled around for a while. At about 9:15 the trainer said we would wait a few more minutes in case anyone still wasn't there. I don't think we actually got started until almost 9:30. I could have slept in an extra half hour. Or driven a little slower and saved some money on gas. Or hung out with the Munchkin (Bean has the common sense to sleep in while she is still young and responsibility-free). It seems like this happens more and more often. Lets make everyone who was here on time wait for the guy who is currently in line at Starbucks. It seems like this is becoming the norm. Does anyone else get irritated when this happens (or am I just being a grouch)?

A teacher at home

The Bean is finally potty trained thanks to my very excellent modeling and scaffolding. It reminded me of this:

My teacher friends will have probably seen this in countless trainings. On the far left of the spectrum would be the Teacher-Mommy allowing the Toddler-Student to observe careful modeling of the potty process. "Moooooommy, you went potty like a big girrrrrl!"

Guided Practice involves asking the Bean "Do you need to go potty?" no less than 50 times per day, balancing her on the big toilet when she refuses to use the potty chair, and making careful decisions about outings (How long will we be gone?) and naps (Should I force her to wear a diaper?)

I am proud to announce that we're finally to the right side of the diagram. Bean knows when she needs to go, climbs up and teeters on the edge of the seat by herself, and is sleeping Pamper-free. My anecdotal records indicate that we have yet to use a public restroom and she only flushes on one in five trials. I'll put that in next week's lesson plans.

With potty training and the yard sale under my belt, I've accomplished my two major goals for the summer. Now we can relax! Thanks for reading my blog.

“Gradual Release of Responsibility” Model of Explicit Instruction: Reprinted from Contemporary Educational Psychology, 8, P. David Pearson and Margaret C. Gallagher, “The Instruction of Reading Comprehension,” page 337, under the terms of the Access Copyright licence agreement, renewed in 2004.

Crybaby

I finished A Thousand Splendid Suns and wow, what a good book! I was up until 1:00 this morning crying like a loon on the couch, actually mourning fictional characters. I love a book that grabs you and doesn't let go until the end and I always remember the ones that make me cry. The first time I cried over a book I was in the fourth or fifth grade reading Anne of Green Gables. It was the part where Matthew Cuthbert dies. What a delicious surprise, to find that a book could break your heart.

I don't like crying in front of my class, though. An emotional minefield is Thank You, Mr. Falker, by Patricia Polacco. I read it to my second graders last year and had to stop and compose myself--blowing my nose, concentrated breathing, thinking happy thoughts--just so I could go on. Twice. The dumb thing (and the reason I probably won't make a repeat performance) is that they don't really get it. It's only teachers who cry at Thank You, Mr. Falker (because we all want to be Mr. Falker), so in the end, you just look like a blubbering idiot in front of 22 eight-year-olds. Maybe this year in fifth grade I'll do Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes and I'll do it well enough that they'll all be crying with me.

Which books make you cry? Thanks for reading my blog!

My Boy

Wasn't it just yesterday that I lifted you out of your bassinet, cradled you, breathed you in--a smell like milk and warmth?
Today I lifted you up to peek into the darkened window of your kindergarten classroom and you smiled so big, so eager to get going in this life.
Happy Birthday, Baby.

My first day off

I considered today to be my first day of vacation because on any other Sunday I would have written lesson plans and possibly graded some papers. Here is a list of things I accomplished did today:

1. I concentrated hard on my soil to see if any new sprouts were sprouting. I counted 3 new sunflower sprouts and 1 new green bean sprout.
2. I took the Munchkin out for a green Slurpee in a green cup with a green straw. Green's his favorite color.
3. I curled up in a patch of sunlight on the couch and took a nap (just like a cat).
4. I scooped up the Bean's clothes each time she changed them and deposited them on the hallway floor. (Hubby did all the laundry--did I tell you he's the love of my life?)
5. I spent time monitoring the soaker hose to see if my garden is getting too much water.
6. I rolled off the couch at about 6:30 and made shish kabobs.
7. I bawled my way through the last chapter of my book club book Fat Girls and Lawn Chairs.

How was your first day off (or how will it be)?

Gearin' up for the last week

I'm trying to stay focused. If I don't, I'm afraid all craziness will break loose in room 305. One day last year (when I taught sixth grade) I had a terrible headache in the middle of the day and couldn't get a sub. I wrote the assignment on the board with a note that said "Please be nice to Mrs. ____" and I put my head on my desk for the rest of the afternoon. Let me tell you, those were the sweetest, most hardworking kids I had seen all year. Second graders are not like that. You give them an inch, they run for the touchdown. SO, I've decided to teach like its the week before CRT's. Poetry, Expository text features, Solar System, Multiplication, Centripetal force--maybe they will be so busy, they won't realize we're already down to 30 hours and 45 minutes...and yes, I AM counting.

The Field Trip from Hell

Well, I've had two vodka cranberries and I guess I can venture to tell about the field trip from Hell. Said field trip took place on Thursday (see...it took two whole days before I felt like talking about it.) We took five second grade classes into the city for an hour-long program on insects, arachnids and snakes. We split up the planning work for the field trip between the five of us (in theory, a good idea--in practice, not so much). The first *#)%&#! hitch was when I took my five "school lunchers" to get their lunches out of the box only to find that in this district, the kids pick up their lunches before they get on the bus (rather than the cafeteria boxing it all up and giving it to the teacher who in charge of lunches). Everyone else knew this. I hate being new. There's nothing that will make you feel like an ass ruin your day like having five hungry kids with no lunch on a field trip. Teachers and parents offered up their own yogurt and spare apple before someone ran to Seven-Eleven for some Lunchables.

Next was the transportation debacle. Apparently "return time" means the time you get back to school, not the time you leave the museum. It seems very obvious in retrospect. I'm not sure what we were thinking when we filled out the transportation form. Fortunately, this screw-up wasn't mine alone. The bad part is that we had to leave the program 20 minutes early. Some kids didn't get to hold the giant snake and their parents are pissed.

At least I had nothing to do with the wreck on the interstate. Now don't worry, we weren't involved in the wreck. We were just parked for forty minutes with 110 second graders in the Nevada desert. Have you ever heard someone pray, "Dear God, please let no one have to go to the bathroom"? I actually asked a girl to QUIT drinking water. By the time the kids ran out of songs to sing I was wishing I had chosen a different career. You've not heard "The Star Spangled Banner" until you've heard it sung by a busful of 8 year-olds. I guess we could have stayed the extra 20 minutes at the museum. We got back to school an hour after dismissal and had to check kids out one by one to avoid losing any of them in the shuffle. The last of them left at quarter to five.

It's possible that from now on my field trips will consist of a bag of popcorn and Google Earth projected onto my classroom wall.