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....