Yeah, so it has been one of those sorts of days. Which of the following scenarios would describe an ideal Friday for you?
a) All students work diligently and complete all tasks with a smile.
b) Administration provides breakfast snacks and lunch for all teachers with no strings attached or questions asked.
c) At the end of the day, everything is cleaned up and put away.
d) Utter chaos and pandemonium break out and you still manage to escape with all your wits in tact.
How about secret option e), which is false. Or orange. Maybe even the Runaway Scrape if my class has anything to do with the choices.
I always love sharing good times, and so I will let the good times roll starting right....now. Ok, that was enough time for you to prepare and brace yourself for the excitement that will shortly ensue. I start off the day only to discover that there are muffins in the teacher's lounge! And juice! Yeah for food! I think that things can only get better.
As I take my troops to 312, I find out that there is a social studies benchmark that they have to take (damn these assessments!). It isn't enough that I am trying to complete my own assessments for an incentive pay program. I am surprised that my kids didn't gang up and slit my tires.
Don't even get me started on my assessments. It is as if my students suddenly opened their little heads and let their brains run free. Uh, yeah. It is amazing that we have done the same sorts of things over and over all year long, and suddenly we have become lost and bewildered; helpless and hopeless, oh so woe begotten. I cry to myself and wonder where I led the dear ones astray. Sigh. I didn't need the extra money from the incentive pay. I use $100 bills for toilet paper anyway.
In the mix of all this specialness, I am tossing things at random all over my room as I attempt to clean up while the kids are testing. I consider rolling around in all the paper and supplies. At that moment, I hear a knock at the door and guess what is on the other side? If you said a new student, ding ding ding, we have a winner! A new kid with like 3 weeks of school left. I am greeting Mom and my room looks like it has been hit with a bomb. Awesomeness...
New student means kids lose focus on the assessments, and pretty much morning is shot. Of course, Bill introduces himself as the most special person in the class, and all the kids agree. I need a hug and start hugging myself, only for the art teacher to inform me later that that is called turtling. Yeah, so rock on with the turtling awesomeness that will become my entire day.
There is lunch. KIS is absent, so I get to go on time...yeah! But then sub doesn't pick up kids in time (boo!) so my other teammate and I wind up taking the kids from the other group and picking up others at random places of the school. Way to go! And the art teacher complains-I mean shares suggestions about collaboration -about KIS, and I have to let her know that KIS acts the same way with everyone. She'd probably treat a convicted criminal and Ghandi with the same stank attitude she treats us with at work-kids included. I think her personality needs a bath because it stinks.
Afternoon comes around, and my kids are still testing. I find myself looking forward to next Thursday, when all of this will be over. That is sad. I feel like I have accomplished absolutely nothing, my room still looks like it got hit by some natural disaster, and Bill has now thrown up on my floor and on books. I send him to the nurse, and what do you think happened?
a) Nurse takes temperature and sends him home.
b) Nurse asks for a slip even though he still reeks of barf.
c) Bill returns to room and stays for rest of the day.
d) Eggs?
Yeah, so Bill is on my floor, laying down and ripping his shirt. He came in with a t-shirt, left with a halter top. Yeah. As I am marveling at the wonders of this, administration bum rushes me with cameras to take pictures of me for their recruitment shpell. They then proceeded to ask me about all my accomplishments this year. I think of my feeling of failure with the assessments and asked to do it later because I wasn't in the best mood, but they insisted it couldn't wait. Then I get a call from another principal at another school asking me to teach 5th grade at summer school. Here is a snippet of the conversation for your listening pleasure:
Me: Hello, how may I help you?
Other Principal Lady: Hello, I was calling to see if you are interested in teaching summer school.
Me: (watching Bill spin in circles on my carpet) What?
Other Principal Lady: You know, teach summer school. To teach 5th grade math....
Me: What?
OPL: Your principal recommended you. Plus we think it will be good for the kids to see familiar faces.
Me: (mouthing silently) What?
OPL: I need to know by this weekend. Here is my cell. Call me and let me know.
Me: What? Uh, Ok.....
Yeah, I sound kind of like Lil' Jon, the rapper in this exchange. I pretty much just say what and ok. It doesn't even matter that I am already participating in a math/science academy that I was chosen to be in (only 10 teachers in our entire district got chosen and I was one) or that I have been asked to help with the math curriculum on both a district and campus level. All of these events happen in the summer, mind you, when people rest and drink margaritas. I would like to plan things with my new teammates (cause yeah, they are like shoes, I get at least a new pair every year).
I become the wicked witch of the west, and my poor kids get the brunt of it. The peace of mind they have is in thinking Beyonce is going to roll by our classroom on a flatbed with a smoke machine (I wonder where they got that crazy idea....*shifts eyes back and forth*). I gotta find a flatbed and a wig...any takers?
I am sure your day was swell, and perhaps things couldn't get more perfect. Your students were beyond brilliant-they were inspired. The adults around you made intelligent choices and the administrative team was the intregal cog that kept your school day flowing smoothly. Yeah, yeah, hip hip hurray for you.
If you weren't as fortunate as I was, being that this is my reality every single waking day, let me bring a little cheer in this season of giving. The season of giving standardized test after test, the kind of giving you do until it hurts. I will let you decide what my lesson or moral of today's saga shall be on your own...make your own inferences and generalizations...
Well, I guess it is Wednesday. I can never be quite sure as the middle of the week gets all jumbled with me-could be anywhere between Tuesday and Thursday. We all know the only days that really matter are Monday and Friday anyways, and even then, for opposite reasons.
At any rate, whatever day it is, one thing was certain--I was in for another long day of standardized testing. Yesterday it was math, today it was reading. I could barely contain myself. I was so excited, that at morning assembly this morning, I decided to share my glee with a nearby 3rd grader. Too bad they are too young to fully appreciate sarcasm. One of my students turned to the 3rd grade kid, who was suckered into my story, and announced that I was being sarcastic, and that I really meant the opposite of what I was saying. That's right, ladies and gents. Enroll your kiddos in room 312 so that they can take full advantage of Sarcasm 101. Come in dim, leave my room sassy and sophisticated and learned (learn-ed!).
It can only go uphill from here. After getting into all the chills and thrills of testing, all I can do is pace. When all you can do is circle your room and stare down your children, your mind has time to wander to all sorts of special places. I started noticing things about my room I had never noticed before. What are all these pipes on the ceiling for? What does that cable connect to? I didn't know my shelf at one time had cabinet doors, but I notice them, stacked on top of my teacher closet. In my head, I am organizing the kids into groups for spring cleaning of the classroom. At the same time, I am trying to will Larry into focusing on his test with my thought waves.
I feel sort of like I am in a hospital. I am pacing with anxiety, and only authorized personnel can enter the rooms. Parents can't even come in. Neither can the custodians. I am wondering to myself what happens if a kid just barfs all over the room, who has to clean it up? I step out for breaks, and primary teachers try to cheer me on and prop me up while I wonder about the enigma that is KIS. I know, that was random, but pacing makes you think random things.
Speaking of KIS, this would be a great time to tell you all more about her, being that I am all about the cheer, and KIS is obviously brimming with it. KIS stands for Keep It Simple, a phrase she uses way too much, and my teammates and I refer to her as KIS. At any rate, I am the anti-KIS. Let me paint a picture. Please don't get offended. I am sure you all know someone like this at your school.
KIS is like a million years old. Well, maybe not that old, but she is old enough to be my mother. Let me fix that. There is nothing wrong with aging-we all do it-but she is so....."vibrant" that I thought she was much older than she really is. Actually, she's younger than my mom, but I guess life has been rough on her. At any rate, she has been teaching in the same room for as long as I have been alive. AS LONG AS I HAVE BEEN ALIVE! I don't mean teaching for that long, I literally mean teaching in the same d**n room. Papers on the wall are all faded, cause it is the same song and dance year after year. She hoards materials and doesn't share, she has chains and locks on her cabinets in her classroom (her cabinet doors are still intact, by the way). She may speak, but most of the time she won't. Any attempt at communication from her I consider a miracle. She's like that old uncle that stays in his room and everyone is surprised when he comes out and talks. Forget collaboration! I can barely get her to acknowledge that I exist. Her poor kids are so starved for interaction. They don't seem to know how to act with the rest of 4th grade, being that they get so isolated. My kids are always doing things with the other 4th grade class, so the rest of 4th grade is close knit. It is 4th grade...and then KIS. She once saved her teacher self report to the school shared server and no one could change the template because of her. Administration lets her get away with murder because, well, I am not really sure. You just don't cross her. Don't you just love her already?
Well, of course, she decided to take her kids to lunch before my class again today. For that matter, she even beat my other teammate, who actually is scheduled to go to lunch first. And to continue in the theme of giving, I guess her boys gave the lunch monitors a hard time, because as I sat in the teacher's lounge, eating my lunch (2 things I rarely do-a) sit in the teacher's lounge and b) sit down to eat my lunch during my actual lunch period as opposed to while I am planning) they all got escorted out of the cafeteria. She is something else. And then her kids are rude to the other 4th grade kids in the bilingual class, and what does she do? Yeah. I guess I shouldn't raise my expectations...
Feeling warm and fuzzy yet? Well, let me warm your soul some more. Well, during a break, I discover that 4th grade is scheduled to give an end of the year benchmark in science tomorrow. I think that is brilliant. We have tested back to back Tuesday and Wednesday, why not test the kids again on Thursday just for the hell of it? Administration won't budge on the issue, no matter how much I beg. I feel like hitting myself in the head with a brick. I then realize it is payday, and the embers in my crushed soul ignite with hope again. I then open my check and a small part of me cries inside. I look at Bill day in and out for THIS? It is a good thing I love the children, seriously. Between the awesome adults and NCLB, I seriously considered getting into my car and just driving away this afternoon. I could picture it all: I get into my car, turn on the tape deck (I don't even have a tape deck) and that 80's synth pop music fade on. I put on a pair of dark glasses, light a cigarette (again, I don't even smoke) and sinisterly gaze into my rear view mirror. I peel out of the teacher's parking lot and drive off into the sunset (yeah, I know at that point it was like high noon and the sun was far from setting, but work with me here). By now the music is in full blast, and I have tossed the cigarette butt out the window (so much for Don't Mess With Texas). The credits start rolling and I am driving so fast that my car is now taking flight off the ground, the wheels have folded underneath , and I am still driving on... I wonder what kind of testing error/irregularity that would have been?
I am now convinced that your heart is touched, and that I can move you no more for the time being. I did make it to 3:30, and I went out and bought Grand Theft Auto IV. I am now about to serve up some serious punishment for this whole day electronically.
(BTW, I had an actual orange today and one of my kids hid it briefly)
Well, it looks like I’ve been tagged for a meme...cool beans. I always like doing survey type things...
The Rules
1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.
4. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.
1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was in the classroom, but on the other side of the desk. I was in high school I suppose, with no real intention to teach at the time. I think I am finally not the youngest teacher at my school, but I am still one of the youngest ones. In 1998, I was a band nerd in AP classes and planning to go into advertising and design (I was in a magnet school, and AD Design was my cluster). I was a very different person then, though my love of the written word and of music still remain from those days. I still cracked jokes all the time, but I was a little more withdrawn and reserved.
2. What are 5 things on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
1) Find something dead and put a fork in it.
2) Leave feedback on Ebay (I love to shop online. Ebay is like a big virtual garage sale!)
3) Do absolutely nothing school related, as we are doing testing again tomorrow and on
Thursday (boo, hiss, boo--to testing, that is...)
4) Write in my journal (somehow, teaching hasn't killed the fun of that for me; the "focus" in my grade in my state is writing). As soon as I get my mojo going, I will probably get a call from a friend of mine, loosing all brilliant thought.
5) Decide on what my super power should be. Aside from my true-to-life powers of persuasion and telekinesis, I need something more "out there.."
3. Snacks I enjoy:
I love food. As for snacking snacks, I like Strawberry Newtons, extra long cheese coneys and cherry limeades from Sonics. I frequent Whataburger (they wonder where I am if I don't show up at least once every two weeks). My carbornated drink of choice is Dr. Pepper, and I love chicken quesedillas. I also like vegetarian sushi from Central Market, even though I am as carnivorous as they get.
4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
1) Build a mansion, get a Cadillac Escalade with 28 inch rims and spokes that flash "teacher" as they turn.
2) Drive around the city at random in said vehicle, tossing hardback books out the window at school zones, suggesting "politely" that people "read."
3) Appear on MTV Cribs, and shout out personally to Bill, telling him to quit watching TV and do his homework so that one day he can get his own crib.
4) Come out with a line of clothing. I would make t shirts that say things such as "Literacy. That's what's really hot on the streets,son!" I would wear these clothes as I toss classic works of literature from my caddy. Beaning Bozos in the Brim with Books since 2008...yeah!
5) Buy my own lobster farm.
6) Raise cocker spaniels.
7) Build a mini zoo in my backyard.
8) Travel all over the world.
9) Get into collecting random oddities.
10) Plant an orange orchard in Bill's back yard.
5. Three of my bad habits:
1) Procrastinating
2) My perfectionism
3) My obsession with order
6. 5 places I have lived:
Paris....Texas.
Dallas, Texas-most of my life.
Austin, Texas-I have had 3 different apartments here. I will probably stay here for awhile.
7. 5 jobs I have had:
1) I worked in the cafeteria at my college as a senior. I was a pizza girl primarily on the pizza line. It was at that time that I decided there was no turning back-I had to graduate. There were people who were twice my age and had made my part time gig a "career." It was a trying time, and food services sucked massively.
2) I worked in an office. Yeah, that sucked too, but less than the pizza gig. Oh, the crazy things I did there when I was bored....
3) I taught ESL to adults for a couple of years. That was actually pretty cool.
4). Teacher's Aide at a private school. Even with the BS in public schools, I'd rather be there than in private school...
5) My current teaching gig. I taught second grade at first, but the last couple of years I have done fourth.
8. 5 People I want to know more about:
I assume we are talking about digital peeps here. It is hard to say because I am still pretty new to this thing.....
I found http://learnmegood2.teacherlingo.com, which is Mister Teacher (the person who sent this to Edna Lee, who sent this to me. Hey, that rhymed..guess I am a poet and I didn't know it. I think he is pretty wild. Plus, he teaches in my hometown. Not sure if I could do it myself, I will stay here in capital city.
Of course, there is Mimi, which is http://thechalktalks.teacherlingo.com. Her sense of humor is what keeps me coming back. I am glad to see that she is posting again.
I like to read emptynester, which is http://tiredbuttrying.teacherlingo.com. The story about the father who was a cage fighter was priceless. And also, don't feel bad about the "piles." My classroom looks very "special" right now. I mean, aside from the butcher paper covering everything cause of testing, the standard piles o' paper are everywhere still. I considered putting a tarp over it all and making a beanbag chair with it.
I don't know, though, really who to tag. Recommend some other good blogs to read! I stumble across some here or there, but there are only a few that I like to read on a regular basis. I am not particular. Doesn't have to be a certain grade level or content area, although I do like to hear from other fourth grade teachers.
Oh, the potential for rants today. Where shall I go today? I could talk about the school wide epidemic with the children, resulting in simultaneous brain farts from one end of the campus to the other. Or I could talk about how as a result, teachers are getting extremely catty and nagging. I could talk about how we are becoming more and more complacent, accepting the "bare minimums." I could update you all on the coming and goings of KIS. Or Bill. Maybe about field trip madness, the countdown till payday, or my regular escapades with suggesting change, and getting a "talking to." The posibilities and combinations are endless. Or I could just leave all this alone and go play XBOX 360 instead of stressing about standardized testing that happens this week. I will play XBOX. But first I will pick a rant at random...
And so brain farts it is. What exactly is a brain fart? Well, those are the moments when you have a conversation with your lovely students, not even a new conversation. I mean a conversation that at this point should be memorized cause it has come up so much in so many different ways and instances. It goes sort of like this. Teacher makes a general statement that most kids in class seem to accept. Other students give examples of said statement. Teacher finds a way to combine all of said information. Class puts all information together in some way and then discusses it. Teacher then asks one question about conversation. All of a sudden, it is as if said conversation didn't exist. Either one of two things happens with the kids:
1) Students stare at you as if you are suddenly speaking Urdu and some how lept forward into time.
2) One word or part of a statement (in my class, orange, is the key word) makes them go totally insane. Picture super excited, yelling out the first thing that comes to mind, even if it doesn't connect at all with said conversation.
I will give my kids some credit. Lately, the expression of brain farts has mostly been choice 2. This strangely gives me some hope, because if they at least respond with words (even if those words are totally random) at least they are making some sort of attempt. My kids are strangely obsessed with oranges (as in the fruit). I guess it is because I always offer them oranges when they have "special moments." Again, by special, I mean, yeah, that was...something...moments. And do I give them real oranges? No, I am always like "yeah, that was....very special. I think you should have an orange." My kids are automatically happy because a) My teacher says I am very special and b) I get an orange! Yeah, I rock! It is pretty sad.
I laugh in it all because in the midst of all the stress and brain farts, I remember a moment that happened last week. It was one of those moments when the kids were saying random things, I wondered if I had taught them anything worthwhile this year, and Bill is gnawing at his shirt, spinning in circles. I wanted to hug myself and offer myself an orange, tangelo, and three pears. At that moment, Mark, one of my kids with an awesome sense of humor, informs me that I need to find my "happy place." I couldn't do anything but laugh at that. How on point was that?
It is funny how the most random things get my mind rambling. It is that special time of the year. The last quarter is here, standardized testing is in full swing, and the kids are mutating into a crazed mob. Actually, considering the possibilities, my kids are acting okay. All I really have is chattiness and little nit picking between one another. This time last year, my trial by fire group was ready to punch one another's lights out. As I look at them now in fifth, I wonder how it was that I made it through a year with them (and managed to teach them anything). They still flock to me, even though they are crazy as bedbugs.
I have really been trying to get my crew ready for the last leg of standardized testing. That alone is a rant waiting to happen, which I will make at some point soon (not today, though). They are tired, and so am I. It isn't like we haven't been busting our brains all year long-my room is in constant motion. I plan and then plan for the unexpected. I try to cram as much opportunity for growth as I can in each minute. But I always wonder did I give them enough? I realize that I will never get to this magic point where I "have it all" in terms of knowing everything there is to know about teaching.
It is just that I have visions-of organizing curriculum in ways that benefit all students, encouraging others to really reflect on what is going on in their rooms....but I feel so far away at times. I never really had a desire outside the classroom. I can honestly say that I love what I do, mostly because I love who I am with-my kids. But with the things I have noticed lately, I have had an increasing desire to go organize...systems and plans make me happy.
Where does all this come from? I was working on a project with my class today. We were going around the school, surveying classes for a math project. The kids are super excited, and we are going to use the data for graphing, which is part of our math unit at the moment. As I walked around the school with Bill and Chad and Esther Marie in tote, it was one of the few chances that I get to see a typical day for many different colleagues. Don't get me wrong, I go in to classrooms often daily. It is different, though, going into many different ones one right after another. You can tell a lot about a teacher's style and philosophy just by looking at the room. All of this made me think. I wonder what my room says about me?
I am not really caught up in appearances. But I do think about this from time to time. I see myself and my weaknesses and strengths. I seem to have this rapport with kids (not even just my own students) and I get along with most of my peers-my teaching buddies seem to think highly of me. They nominated me for Teacher of the Year, which the thought alone was an honor because it is my first year to even be eligible (I have only been teaching for 3 years). I am reflective, and resourceful. That being said, I am still learning my content. I still find myself scratching my head after dealing with some parents that are difficult, Bill's constant "Billness" and weekly rants with administration about a need to put plans into motion for the benefit of the kids. I have a teammate who seems to hate humankind, and I have moments of success/failure in communicating with her daily. We won't even get on the fact that my team has changed each year I have taught, and will change again next year. My kids need so much, and I try to give them what they need, but at what point is my best enough? It is a whirlwind.
But back to my original query. When you walk into my room, what do you see? Many seem to think I am a math teacher. I am that. There is undeniable evidence of that. But I am really a teacher beyond that. I am learning more science and how to teach it though I am not where I want to be with that yet. I believe strongly in integrating content-can my peers see that? My room belongs to my kids-most of the areas are devoted to them-their desk pods, their small group table, their library, their materials shelf, computers, etc. Do they see that although we work hard in room 312, we also play hard as well? I fuss at the kids sometimes, but I also hug them, listen to their problems, or celebrate their successes with them. Or do they see a cluttered desk that I never sit at (because I am always in the middle of some children) and a bunch of math words? Do they see a small group table that is almost never clear and realize that it looks like that because kids are at it all day long at some point? Do they see me rapping on stage at a pep rally for the testing and think I am a court jester, or that I am crazy enough to risk looking foolish for the sake of encouraging the kids to do their best? Do my rants to administration (in spite of the rants, administration seems to like me a lot) look like I am just displeased, or do they see I am really only trying to be a catalyst for change? My kids want to learn, and I just want to teach them. I don't want to let them down. That is why I carry on the way I do. That is how I get things for Bill and how I get more help for Lucy....
Yeah, so it is April 1st. I was expecting craziness, but the kids were okay. Aside for a few things going not quite so the way I planned (yeah, that was really grammatically horrid) it was an okay day. One of the assistant principals came by this morning and brought the teachers morning pastries and juice this morning, which was awesome cause all I had eaten was a Pop Tart (I know, really awesome. On Friday, I had the breakfast of champions-a breakfast jack with hash browns, OJ, and hash browns...).
Yeah, yeah, yaddah yaddah, same ole same ole. Bill is Bill, Larry walks into a bilingual conversation and is still spacing out before he figures something is amiss. We all danced at recess (I guess I am now the resident DJ for the 12:30ish block of WOW). Again, remember it is April 1st. None of my kids pulled stunts during the class.
With this in mind, I should have seen it coming a mile away, but I didn't. It is a little after 4 and I am walking my tutoring group to the front of the school to wait on parents. For a moment, I walk with one student into the cafeteria, when I see something that stops me dead in my tracks. It is Hoyt, and his nose is bloody, he has a scrape on his face, and his fists are balled.
Let me back up really quickly and introduce Hoyt. You have met Bill and Larry, and even briefly Esther Marie. Hoyt is a student who came to our school last year brand new. I met him when 3rd-5th went on a field trip together. I was separating Hoyt from another kid that he was not getting along with. Hoyt was very defiant at the time and I promised him at that moment when he got to 4th grade, he was going to be mine. I checked in on him often from that point on. You should have seen the shock on his face at the start of the year. He enters my room at Meet the Teacher, and immediately I greeted him by name. His dad was like "You already know your teacher?" And the rest was history....
Back to today. I am flipping out as I see the blood. I am thinking, why is this happening now? He has had such a good year. The nurse is already gone, I gotta call his dad, we have to go the office. And he just stands there while the kids freak out.
I step closer and am still freaking out, when all of a sudden, I see a smile start to creep up his face. When we are face to face, he licks his lips and yells "April Fool's!" It is some sort of food dye/syrup/etc. It looked so real because he had it on his nose and face as well as his knee.
I have to admit though, it was pretty good. He got me this time, but he better watch out cause when he least expects it....yeah, there I will be...
Today was a very surreal day. In someways, it was quite typical and other ways totally random, but let's see if you find any humor in any of this...
It starts with me being generally proud of myself for arriving to work on time. Generally, I am early, but because of daylight savings time/report cards/testing, I have been in another time zone lately. For instance, yesterday I got up at six, and just loafed around the house. I kept finding things to do and was totally unconcerned about being late. I didn't leave for work yesterday until 7:15, and I am usually there before that time. Let's just say it became a science experiment. Hmm, what variable can I change to decrease the elapsed time between leaving home and arriving at work...The constants are the distance traveled and means of transportation(which is a yellow Mazda 6, which my kids say looks like a banana colored race car)....hmm. Well, we all knows what happened. NASCAR, here I come! I just floored it and hoped for the best. I got to work just in time to pick up my kids from the morning assembly. It was awesome, and I was actually proud that I had cut my drive time in about half. I guess that is kinda sad.
At any rate, that was yesterday. Today I was on top of it, ironically arriving at the same time that I left home yesterday-at good ole' 7:15. Still a little late (for me anyways), but at least I was on the right side of town-that is always a plus. Bill, of course, in true form, accidentally leaves morning assembly with 3rd grade (although we sit by class, and in vertical rows, so I am not sure how that happened) and doesn't realize something is wrong until he is halfway to our classroom and notices the 3rd grade going the opposite direction. He then turns around and gives his signature look (no brow this time, but tongue hanging out of course). At that moment, I knew Bill was going to have a special day. Get ready, because there are lots of self hugs involved today as a result of him.
We continue on. I drink my frappuccino while taking attendance, kids turn in homework, the morning routine, etc. I then discover my lunch from yesterday that I forgot to eat, and decided that it probably wouldn't be safe to eat it today. The kids insisted I throw it out, which surprised me. I'd think they would want to see me eat it just to see if I would survive. The morning announcements inform the kids of a practice test (which I planned to keep secret to keep them from flipping out prematurely) and the kids wig. I am like, this is awesome. On a side note, this happened once before, but it was a field test instead of an in-home test, and Bill mishears this, and keeps asking me where the "field trip" is going to be. I then prematurely wish a kid in my class a Happy Birthday, only to realize that it is tomorrow instead. I had to play it off by mentioning that I know someone else with a birthday today (which I do, but still..)the kids looked at me like "sure you do..." I am off to an awesome start already.
We have a lively lesson in Social Studies, and everything is clicking. I was actually impressed with their interest in the exploitations of others, and moved by their growing militant mindset against the "founding" of the US. That alone made my day. That's right kids, question EVERYTHING. What added to the cake was how other subjects-like math, science, and language arts, were just flowing into our lesson. I plan for lots of integrating of subjects, but it's awesome when kids are like,"Hey, you are sneaking and teaching me math right now, and we are supposed to be doing Social Studies!"
What was even better was when my principal pops in doing what I call a "walk-by" (like a drive-by) where she or one of the assistant principals shows up unexpectedly to "see what we are learning." Walkthroughs are ok with me, cause I am always teaching and the kids are always doing something. Me and my teammate (I have two official teammates, but only one who is a true teammate-another long story) were actually teaching the same thing, so that is always good. That and as soon as they see Principal, the kids are all like, "Yeah, we did some of every subject in Social Studies today. It is a record!" Administration always loves that. At that moment, I think Bill even had his tongue in his mouth.
Those are the highlights till 11:10. Amongst all this, there are also what I like to call "special" moments. Notice that I use special a lot. That has been the word of the year. By special, always assume I mean "not so much" or special as in "Yeah, so here's an orange." Amongst all the great work, I get like five million calls on my classroom phone (I read a blog from Mimi-btw, I love her blogs-about the pains of having a phone and immediately thought of her) with all kinds of special requests. I have a kid who answers the phone, so she just shrugs after like the billionth call. Awesome things like the secretary asking if I have exported grades (we do electronic grade books), to parents with homework, lunches, etc. People calling the wrong school altogether, or just other "whoshine" as my kids will say, which means craziness.
In addition to the calls, I felt like today was the day of many visitors. I don't think my doorknob has seen so much action in one day! The principal came in, but also the librarian, secretary, and a CIS mentor (community in schools) showed up . None of these are scheduled, and they all either gave me something else to remember (half of which I have already forgotten) and some took things/dropped things off. Like the secretary took my iBook power cord. The principal starts trying to ask for my two cents on something that it was way too early in the morning to comment on, and I applaud myself for not ranting before 10:00, even in light of Bill about to lose it (I could tell he was going to start fading and falling off of the "happy bus of knowledge" in a matter of minutes). True to form, as soon as Principal leaves, Bill starts his daily shenanigans. Every time I look up, he is somewhere else in the room, saying random thing after another, with a wild look in his eyes. The look is endearing, disturbing, and quizzical about 50% of the time, 25% of the time it is downright hilarious, and the other quarter it just drives you crazy. It was like watching a ping pong ball go back and forth. Even with the coffee, I had to ask him to relocate in order to maintain our relationship. It was just too much...
At planning, I was talking to my teammate about the kids' gains during the year, and I was telling her that there is one that I worry about. It isn't Bill, so hah! Yes he is in his own planet, but at least he is in the same solar system. I worry about Larry (remember him?). He is on some planet that hasn't even been discovered yet and in some galaxy trillions of miles away from even Pluto, the "non" planet. Maybe this is really gross, but I was thinking about a chart that the instructional coaches showed us one day, charting our kids' gains in a subject (like math) from BOY to MOY. If you turn the chart sideways, to me it reminds me of sperm cells swimming to the egg at the end of the path. Well, most of my kids are "swimming" right along. Even Bill. I look at Larry, and he looks like the one "lazy sperm" that is not sure where it wants to go, and kind of just hangs out at the starting line. I am not sure what to do. He is a sweet kid. While Bill is all over the place, he still picks up enough "pieces" of everything to grow steadily. Larry, though not as "Bill-like" for lack of a better term, is the kid who will probably say "blue" when you are talking about something like, "How did the American revolution end?" The sad thing is that right after that, he will cringe and shake his head vigorously as he now has heard what he said, and then just looks away as if to go "if I don't acknowledge that I just said that, it didn't happen..." Then with some prompting and assistance, it repeats. You then give more scaffolding, and he finally gets it for awhile, but then it seems to escape him because after answering correctly, later on you ask him the same thing and the cycle starts all over again. It is like watching a dog chase his tail.... If it helps, he once ran into the back of a car going like 10MPH. Yes, he ran into the car. He was running and hit the car, not the car hit him. This happened like 4 years ago. Let that come to a simmer and marinate...
Flash forward to recess. Bill is still completing Social Studies (btw, social studies was in the morning -before 11:10-it is now 12:40ish and lunch and special areas have been completed as well). Also, the art teacher has hunted me down (my group didn't go to art today) to ask about "Bill" and inquire about his extra "special" behavior in her class today. This is great cause my group (I take one third of my class plus one third of each other 4th grade, and the other teachers in my grade do the same) went to Music, which was on the opposite end of the school, and the art teacher still manages to find me during this transition. Not only that, one of the assistant principals asks about Bill, saying that they miss him in the office (his teacher used to send him a lot last year, plus he'd run away from school then and they'd have to go find him). Maybe he will have to make a visit in the office-he has only been there twice from me this year (once I had to put him out of after school tutoring, which is pretty sad). This has been the day of Bill. I haven't even gotten to this afternoon yet.
The recess....oh yeah, I ran into one of my student's older siblings as I was running across the street to pick up my lunch (there is a small restaurant across the street from my school) and forget that I have this large econo-sized container of hand sanitizer in my hands. I get to the place and people start asking me for hand sanitizer-yeah, so we all know I deal with kids. Promise that is the last tangent.
Back to recess. Recess is a big block party, as I have brought out a boom box on my right shoulder (my salute to the 80's) and all the second graders, third, and fourth grade kids are doing line dances with me and the teachers. It was awesome. Esther Marie, one of my quieter kids, was like "312 is the best! We sing and dance and everyone else wants to do what we do!" Another fake name, brought to you by Larry, who is also still doing Social Studies outside with Bill. It is almost 1 now.
Back to the room and down to the math. I am teaching Bill and a few others science early since they will be leaving for math tutoring during science (another awesome story). Bill, even with a smaller group, raises his hand. I am already afraid, but before I have a chance to react, he informs me that he has a comment (saying I have a comment) and then proceeds to just tell a random story. About basements. Investigations and DNA evidence. And back to basements. The sad thing is that we were discussing folk legends about the origins of the moon and none of his "comment" linked at all. Poor Larry, who gets confused when things are relevant was mentally overloaded with that, and the other two children looked at Bill, then at me, then back at Bill and were dumbstruck. It was like watching a train wreck. I then told all the kids (here it comes!!!) to just stop for a moment and give themselves a big hug. Everyone in the group hugged themselves (myself included) except for Bill, who just stared with his tongue out. The kids looked at him, and then hugged themselves tighter. And another visitor that I forgot-the math tutor-comes in the room at that exact moment to get the kids-only it is like 30 minutes early. Later on, I find that she is having a "special" afternoon with Bill as well.
And the last hour and 45 mins goes on. I tutor 4th grade math after school with kids from the English classes, so I pick up my kids at 3:00 to get started (after missing after school duty, to which the kids laugh every time I tell them to walk quickly because I have to go do duty). Mel, short for Melvin (thanks again, Larry!) isn't in my tutoring group, but he passes by my group, but not before telling a 2nd grade teacher that she is "awesome" (another 312 joke that I have to explain one of these days) as well as KIS. Both teachers look to me, and I had to pull a "Larry" and just look confused. On cue, I hear Larry calling out to me and see him chasing garbage around the school. The kids ask me why, and I shrug, while remembering that his backpack is in the cafeteria. I inform him of this, and he looks confused....see where I am going with this. Remember the pattern. I wonder if he ever went to go get it. I already foresee him asking me at 8:00 tomorrow morning if he can go get it from the cafeteria. What is sad is that he will have had breakfast earlier in the cafeteria that day and honestly not think about his pack. Sigh. At least I still have some ice cream sandwiches in the lounge. And I did manage to avoid the Costco crew in the lounge who were peddling memberships today. And I did make it with Bill in tutoring today. I got my grades in before the secretary threatened to take away my first born child. All said, today was ok....
When I say track, some may automatically assume I mean academic tracking. You know, that evil way some kids are "guided" toward either a more challenging curriculum or an easier one. That isn't so much what I mean in this case. I have noticed statistically that students of color, students of poverty, and students who speak English as a second language are most likely to be tracked (in the less rigorous path). This in comparison to students of other cultural backgrounds, SES, home languages.....I'd rather not even get into something that complex or controversial. That is for another day when I don't have report cards due, reading response journals to get back to, and a day's worth of teaching to get caught up on after a sub today. On a side note, 4th grade has had its 2nd core content meeting of the year-and about 3/4 the year is up. Don't even get me started on that, because then I will start going on about the need for systems of organization (let's plan to plan....).
Back to the tracking track (Yes, that was a very special sentence). When I think of tracking in the elementary sense, I am not really thinking, oh the smart kids get this, the ones who aren't quite there don't. In terms of ability, I get a mix every year. No ma'am, no sir, I am thinking more of behavior. Let me paint a picture:
There are at least 3 fourth grade teachers each year at my school. Usually at least one Bilingual Ed Teacher, and two English classes. Well, I guess technically one English and one ESL (I am the ESL class, by the way). At any rate, ESL or not, my class is predominately English dominant kids, though I do get kids who are learning English from time to time. That part is fine with me. That is what I am certified to do. Plus, that is something I enjoy doing.
What gets me is not that part. I have noticed (or rather it has been pointed out to me) a "feeder" pattern of students. There is a third grade teacher in which I get most of her kids, and a fifth grade teacher who gets most of mine. I am not sure how classes are determined at your school, but our administration mostly sets our classes up. They try to make gender and ethnicities pretty even as well as ability levels. What I have noticed, however, is that they also try to put certain types of kids off on certain teachers. Let's think about that....
Over half of the kids in my class this year were in this 3rd grade class I will call 3A. Only 3 kids in my class are from the other English 3rd grade which I will call 3B, and 2 of those 3 I had to request. Every class has its array of characters, and that I have. I also notice, however, that I get a concentration of "unique" children. Don't get me wrong. I love my kids, and apparently I rock their socks too, cause many kids request to be in my class. I have even heard of 2nd graders and kinder kids who are already planning to be in room 312. Love or not, I do get a concentration of "unique" ones. Let me give examples of uniqueness.....
1. There are the "Bills" of the years. Bill is all over the place, yells everything out, and is extremely impulsive. He means well, but has a hard time with self control, self management, restraint, etc....Often slobbers on himself/others, and chews his clothing when stressed.
2. The flight risks. I get the ones that have tried to run away from school (some have succeeded). Literally.
3. Angry children, who are often angry for good reason, yet nonetheless, mad at the world. They are verbally and physically aggressive toward peers and sometimes adults as well. I have heard every swear word in the book, and have had to evacuate my kids from the room from angry kids "going off."
4. The slick talkers. I like to call them the Eddie Haskells of my class.
5. The ones who "need an extra push." This could be academically (maybe they struggle with one content area, hey, maybe they struggle with them all...usually they struggle with them all..) or socially.
And here are a few of the faces. I bring this up with administration, and I am always told one of the following responses....
1. "But you do so well with them!"
2. "Now you know KIS would just put them out everyday..." (I will have to introduce you to KIS one of these days-it is someone who has been teaching longer than I have been alive. Seriously.)
3. -insert some comment about my skills-drop student in my class.
Or there is my favorite response -the smile and segwey into another topic of discussion. Like that is going to make me not notice my demographics or when a child has been clowning in their class, suddenly they need to spend the day with me? I may be nearsighted, but I am not blind.
I considered this after talking to one of my vertical teammates. She was saying that there are always a group of kids in her class that take so much of her energy that they need a separate class all their own. I told her that she was their separate class. I challenged her to look at the rest of her grade level. Yes, there is "specialness" in every class, but who has the most specialness in her grade-guess who-she did. And whose former kids were most of them? Mine. And who had them before me? Yep. So what does this all mean, teacher? Well, I will tell you what I think...
I do think administration tries to match us with equitable classes in terms of ethnicity, gender, and ability. Some teachers won't get some of the special cases because I guess it is tenure in a way. Like a perk for teaching a long time. Sorry, but there are other things I want to do in education eventually. I don't intend to be teaching 4th grade until....
Sometimes maybe it is because of relationships I build with my kids. The argument is that some teachers who shall remain nameless, well, might not seek that relationship to that degree. Yes, maybe it is true that I may be patient at times with those kids and all kids I welcome, no matter how off the wall they are. But does that mean it is ok for some teachers to just not want to deal? Or excuse me, rather not have to deal? Everyone does get some specialness-there is plenty to go around. However, there have been some kids that I was straight up told, "yeah, they needed to be with you." Is that a compliment or a cop out? Wrap that around your brain.... I need a hug, and apparently I need to grow in life.
Differentiation. It is a buzz word in the classroom. It is the new wave, and a non-negotiable in our classrooms. I don't have a problem with that. All of my kids have different needs, both academically and socially. I can't "teach toward the middle." I prefer to work by groups instead of stand in front of the room, I gotta get down and roll around in the mess; it is a dirty job, but someone has gotta do it. Yes, this means many late nights, and constant logistics analysis. I have to plan and at the same time, be ready to scrap my plans if I something happens in an instant. At those moments, I have to ignore the demands of the "coaches" and administration who don't seem to care what I do until something goes wrong, and do what I know is best. I have to scrap the plan, and rustle up Larry, Bill, Mark, and Chad, and "break down math" or rally Agnes Pearl, Esther Marie, and Lucy to "make reading plain and simple." Sometimes it calls for drastic measures, both research proven and sometimes, well, not so much, but a little psychology 101, but so far it has gotten the job done. By the way, like the shout out to room 312? Yes, those are actual nicknames--thanks Larry.
No one ever finds it surprising that teachers should differentiate with their students. It is an expectation. It is funny, cause I was talking to a colleague about our work situation and the demands being placed upon all the school at the moment. In some points we disagreed, but we agreed that the root of discord is in the impersonalness of the demands. I don't oppose the ideals being asked of us. I do, however, resent not being asked about what my specific needs are in regards to the demand. I am tired of being "pegged" and not having my unique qualities considered: like my teaching philosophy, management beliefs, personality, experience, and assignment as well as added responsibilities. Why doesn't our administration differentiate in terms of providing professional development for its staff? I mean, we have different classroom needs, and different experiences. We are in different assignments. My classroom is very different from that of one my Bilingual Early Childhood peers. Why are we "talked at" the same? I am not even going to get on the collaborating part (what is that?)-some grades just get policed more than others. That is a whole other rant.
Where is it? The differentiation for teachers? I don't mean different expectations. That we seem to have down pat at our school. I mean true differentiation-where the end goal is the same, but the path taken meets the needs of the people following it. What happened to meeting teachers where they are at, and working together to get the teachers where they need to be? Maybe I am just on something that has me thinking crazy, or lofty. Again, I ask myself, if you are getting the same results you got the year before, and nothing has improved, are you really growing? If you add more coaches, and nothing changes, don't you think it's time you looked at the system a second time? Something isn't right.
I am not blaming the coaches-I want that understood. They are human just like we are. I am just challenging this approach to NCLB. Let's just add more people to police our teachers. Let's not really look at problems and try to assess or ascertain the "why" and "how." That makes too much sense. The teachers obviously are not knowledgeable enough to have any solutions, so let's go get some experts to lead us to the Promise Land by themselves. Oh, whatever will I do without the salvation of my expert help, which I only will get if I suck badly or work against the status quo? Even then, the help I will get will be cookie-cutter, and not in line with any of my own personal goals for growth. Because obviously I don't have personal goals. At least it doesn't seem to be important to any of my "help." Oh well. I am doing this for Bill, so I guess he is all that really matters anyway.
Any teacher worth his or her salt is always asking if their teaching is effective. We hear all the talk behind ongoing assessment, both informal and formal, as well as formative and summative assessment. I won't bore you with what any good teacher should know. We know that we should always be trying to figure out what our kids know, and diagnose what they are having issues with. That information should drive our instruction.
I don't know if it is because it is that time for state standardized testing or what, but I am really questioning my teaching. I always wonder if I gave my kids enough. Did I challenge them enough? Did I give them enough opportunities to develop their skills?
I don't wait on coaches or supplies that are promised, but slow to come. Ultimately, my kids are my responsibility. I don't know what else I have to do, short of send "Bill" everyday to the coaches with picket signs bearing threats if "a change doesn't come" in order to get my "coaches" to get up and get on it. There is never time. I mean, there is time for third and fifth, but we are the stepchildren. How can I give my students resources and that extra instruction if I am never given what I need-whether it be time or resources? It isn't always about resources. At this date, it is mostly planning. We put on this big show about lesson plans and how important they are, which I also agree. If it is such a priority, then how come we are not given time to plan collaboratively? No time to work with the "experts" aka the coaches. It is always my personal time that I am expected to use. Heaven forbid we actually plan to plan. I am tired. And that is it. I want to grow, and I feel like I am outgrowing the pot I was placed in....
The problems are systematic. I seek growth outside my school because I am not getting what I need there. I am not asking to be spoon-fed. I don't want to be policed. I do, however, want my concerns to be heard and I want some changes. I don't seek this for my comfort, but out of student need. Hello, I thought the kids were the whole point of this all. What was I thinking, encouraging staff development so that we can improve the school for the kids? I am out of control, I know...
I never really desired to go into administration, but now I am considering it. I long to build some systems of order, systems for professional development. I want to create systems that teach teachers how to collaborate, to plan, to find what they need to get their students where they need to go. I want to teach teachers to break down data, and how to make moves so that their kids make gains. I want to gather teachers of a common grade level, then teach them to work vertically. If the coaches aren't going to do it, then they need to go. I thought the whole point was to "coach" us, not "coax us," "control us," or just flat ignore us until something goes wrong. I mean, how many coaches are there? About five million at my school. If everyone is "running" things, who is actually out in the field working? Too many chiefs, not enough....
Any school is "special" as I like to say, but my school is "extra-special." Let me preface everything by saying that I love "who" I teach. That is the only way that you can work where I work.
I look at my students (and their peers) day in and out, and I can easily venture to say that each moment is an adventure in its own. Today started out normal enough. Morning frappuccino to keep me civil 
, kids are pretty calm. Pulled small groups to work with in reading and math. Kids worked on contracts. By the way, I teach 4th grade. Thought you might like to know.
Even Bill was being himself. "Bill" is one of my students. He is my most, well, unique one. His name isn't even Bill-that's just what the kids call him. Is his name even close to Bill? No, that would make too much sense. In fact, it came from one of my other kids who calls himself Larry. Is the other kid's name Larry? Of course not. Is it even close to Larry? Absolutely not. Does his name even have an L in it anywhere? No. "Larry", the kid who wrote his "name" upside down and crookedly on his class t-shirt during an art project. Maybe he is just as "unique" as Bill is. Short story, all the kids have fake names cause of Larry. And Bill. But I digress. 
Back to Bill. Bill is one of those kids you have to see in action. You see him, and wonder how his teacher can handle him. He is not "bad" so much as in his own little world. He is terribly entertaining. I don't think he means to be as comical as he is. His tongue is always hanging out the corner of his mouth, and he always has this vacant look in his eyes. He is everywhere and no where at the same time if that is even possible. Aside from his tongue, I can never be quite sure what is going to come out of his mouth. For that matter, I can never be totally sure what is going on in his head.
He was pretty much doing his "thing"-tongue wags to the left side of his mouth (hanging, but not dripping, for once) eyes darting around the room until he meets my stare, upon which the vacant look returns. The thing that always gets me is that no matter what news I have for him, the look stays the same. For instance, I can tell him "you got a 100 on your math test," and the look resurfaces. I can then turn around and say "you got a 25 on your science test," and the look returns. Today, however, I got a new version of his look. He was being extra squirrelly, and so I tell him that he may need to go visit another class today, and he gives me the vacant look, tongue still hanging to the left, but this time, adding a wrinkled brow. It is pretty bad when his classmates look at him, look at me, and then cut their eyes at me away from him in a look that says to me, "I worry about Bill, teacher." Lil' Bill. He is my...star. Yeah, we are the superstars...
Aside from Bill, who is often "out for lunch during even breakfast," a whole slew of teachers on my hall were out with content meetings, so anybody could guess what could be going down with a crew of subs. Not just for any kids, for the fifth graders, aka my trial by fire group. They were my first fourth grade class (I got moved to fourth last school year). Let's just say that when I walked by a room and heard the kids chanting "Jerry, Jerry..." I didn't check it out. 
Sometimes it is better just not knowing what is going on. I know enough about them to know when to pick my battles, and I opted to view this as a "professional growth opportunity" for the sub. I hope he comes back one day....
And as if that would be it...I then go to pick up the kids from lunch (Bill is literally at lunch, and not on a mental vacation) and I see this little, brown dog. In Max's defense, he is very cute. Max almost found a new home with me today. Max, however, was interested in what was brewing in the cafeteria. Bad move, pup..I wouldn't touch that stuff with a nine-foot pole. At any rate, with the assistance of a few other teachers and using our class jump rope/number line/clothesline,Max was apprehended and sent to the principal's office.
It is only fitting that it would rain during recess. That was okay, because we had dry things to do indoors. What sucked was that I was supposed to tutor after school, but a monsoon decides to come through. It was pouring pretty badly. I was waiting for Noah to come by on his ark, or guys on gondolas to come rowing through. Sigh. That means no afterschool dose of Bill, who is obviously my favorite student. Whatever will I do when he is one of the fifth graders I ignore when the sub is in over his head?