One of the units in the Spanish class that many of my students take is about rites of passage. Of course, learning about the quinceañera is rite of passage that kicks off this idea that many, many cultures go through rites of passage.
Although my students may not fully realize it, they are going through a series of passages themselves this week as they end their time in middle school. This past Wednesday, we had awards night to celebrate our top students. Friday was the semi-formal dance for 8th graders only, and on the last day of school, after we usher all 6th and 7th graders off campus, we'll celebrate 8th graders being promoted to high school in a short ceremony in the gym.
All of these occasions give students opportunities to dress in their best clothing, something that shows more style than their standard blue and gray polo shirts. With the boys in combed hair and pressed shirts and the girls in their impossibly high heels, I start to image what they might look like four years from now as they graduate high school--or sometimes I even imagine them after college in their successful careers and as caring parents to small children. I'm no fortune teller, but sometimes I feel as if I can see the people they will become. It's pretty exciting!
Some of the students do not realize what a special time this week is for them. Many had no desire to attend the dance, to wear something nice and spend time with their friends. A few are balking at having to attend the promotion ceremony, which is also optional. I'm sympathetic to their feelings on this time, as I am not the type of person who enjoys a big to-do either. Perhaps these moments are partially for loved ones to celebrate the rites of passages for our young ones. If nothing else, I do hope my students are reflecting back on their time--briefly--and looking forward to the adventures that await them.
I know that middle school completion is not that big of a deal. Seriously, what does completing middle school get a young person? Not much. A ticket to high school? Uhm...wahoo? Oh, for most of my students, their success in middle school has opened opportunities to better high schools, but ultimately, finishing middle school is really not that big of a deal in the scope of life.
If we're talking about the scope of life, the long road, the journeys, the quests, why celebrate the little successes along the way? Why not embrace the celebrations?
I know some of my students balk at the idea of this week being a rite of passage for them, while others are too well aware, and maybe a little more freaked out or emotional than usual. Whatever it is to them, I hope they will accept the handshakes and hugs and just enjoy the moment.
Showing posts with label warm fuzzy feelings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label warm fuzzy feelings. Show all posts
June 2, 2012
October 1, 2011
What Happens in Game Club
It all started when one of my students approached me on the first day of school about coming on Fridays to play Axis and Allies, as the teacher who hosted it for them last year is no longer at our school. I stay late on Fridays anyway, so I agreed.
Within a few days, I read about Mrs. Bluebird's Board Game Club and then thought of my own failed Scrabble Club from last year. I had a few students who showed up, but it conflicted with Leadership and Debate, which are more serious clubs, so my poor club fizzled away.
I spoke with Mrs. E.--we do everything together--and decided that it might be fun to just do a basic game club. I mean, if I there were going to be 3-4 boys playing a game, why not invite more to people come play games? No harm in trying, and Friday is a great day since there are few clubs and spending an hour playing games sounded like a great way to end the week. Kind of like a kid happy hour!
I had six Scrabble boards. The Leadership adviser had a box of miscellaneous games, such as mancala, checkers, and chess. My social studies colleague had more inexpensive checker/chess boards with pieces, and a 7th grade math teacher had three Clue games (still in plastic!) that some anonymous person dropped off in his room a few years back.
And so Game Club was born.
When Mrs. E. and I were talking about it at lunch, one of our colleagues said that it sounded like a great idea. We could feature a different game each week and teach them how to play it. As brilliant as that idea was, it wasn't what I had in mind, and that wasn't what the kids had in mind, either! On the first day we had 35 students show up, and it was sheer madness! We also had several teachers stop by to play for a little while. It was all I could do to get the students to sign in before they were grabbing games and rushing to tables to sit and play.
The first week was overwhelming because I did not know there would be so many kids crammed into my classroom, and there were some students (who happened to be mine) messing around and going in and out. Most of those students have not come back after I railed them about goofing off in the hallways, where they cannot be after school. "You're either in or you're out!" At our school, students are either in a club or outside the gate. The campus isn't open for wandering. The air conditioning was a little wonky and I wondered if I could require deodorant for kids coming to the club, but we survived. Mrs. E. and I played a few games, too. She learned how to play cribbage from another teacher.
After a few weeks, we have our groove going. The kids rush in, grab boards, and start playing. They clean up after themselves after each game, and some of them even double check to make sure all the pieces are back in boxes. We remind the rest of them. (That does not mean I don't have three Scrabble tiles and a miniature lead pipe that go in one of the games...) We allow snacks but warn them that if they leave their trash behind, that will be the end of that. Students need to stay the whole time and not a minute longer, especially if they are riding the late bus, but we also have learned that a good third of the students can only stay 30 minutes because they have to pick up their siblings from the elementary school across the street.
Mrs. E. and I cannot figure out if the kids know each other, or if they are just mixing it up with whoever wants to play. (We decided it would be lame of us to ask.) Sometimes we sit and play, but usually if someone wants a partner, we try to find someone else to play with them. We spend a lot of time making sure nobody is left out. The kids are really good to each other, and if someone wants to get up from the Clue game, which requires more attention span than most of them have, to play Uno with a lonely kid, nobody cares. I compelled three of my 8th grade boys to let an younger, awkward girl to be the banker in their Monopoly because that's all she wanted to do, and they didn't even blink an eye. Love those kids!
We've contemplated moving our club to the library where there are more tables (space, oxygen, air conditioning), and if we get over 40, which I think we hit yesterday, we might just need to do that, but for now, Mrs. E. and I are just giddy that we have such a large group of students from all grades who just want to hang out after school and be kids.
Oh, and you know what's crazy? The boy who wanted to come play Axis and Allies decided to go Tennis Club on Fridays instead!
Within a few days, I read about Mrs. Bluebird's Board Game Club and then thought of my own failed Scrabble Club from last year. I had a few students who showed up, but it conflicted with Leadership and Debate, which are more serious clubs, so my poor club fizzled away.
I spoke with Mrs. E.--we do everything together--and decided that it might be fun to just do a basic game club. I mean, if I there were going to be 3-4 boys playing a game, why not invite more to people come play games? No harm in trying, and Friday is a great day since there are few clubs and spending an hour playing games sounded like a great way to end the week. Kind of like a kid happy hour!
I had six Scrabble boards. The Leadership adviser had a box of miscellaneous games, such as mancala, checkers, and chess. My social studies colleague had more inexpensive checker/chess boards with pieces, and a 7th grade math teacher had three Clue games (still in plastic!) that some anonymous person dropped off in his room a few years back.
And so Game Club was born.
When Mrs. E. and I were talking about it at lunch, one of our colleagues said that it sounded like a great idea. We could feature a different game each week and teach them how to play it. As brilliant as that idea was, it wasn't what I had in mind, and that wasn't what the kids had in mind, either! On the first day we had 35 students show up, and it was sheer madness! We also had several teachers stop by to play for a little while. It was all I could do to get the students to sign in before they were grabbing games and rushing to tables to sit and play.
The first week was overwhelming because I did not know there would be so many kids crammed into my classroom, and there were some students (who happened to be mine) messing around and going in and out. Most of those students have not come back after I railed them about goofing off in the hallways, where they cannot be after school. "You're either in or you're out!" At our school, students are either in a club or outside the gate. The campus isn't open for wandering. The air conditioning was a little wonky and I wondered if I could require deodorant for kids coming to the club, but we survived. Mrs. E. and I played a few games, too. She learned how to play cribbage from another teacher.
After a few weeks, we have our groove going. The kids rush in, grab boards, and start playing. They clean up after themselves after each game, and some of them even double check to make sure all the pieces are back in boxes. We remind the rest of them. (That does not mean I don't have three Scrabble tiles and a miniature lead pipe that go in one of the games...) We allow snacks but warn them that if they leave their trash behind, that will be the end of that. Students need to stay the whole time and not a minute longer, especially if they are riding the late bus, but we also have learned that a good third of the students can only stay 30 minutes because they have to pick up their siblings from the elementary school across the street.
Mrs. E. and I cannot figure out if the kids know each other, or if they are just mixing it up with whoever wants to play. (We decided it would be lame of us to ask.) Sometimes we sit and play, but usually if someone wants a partner, we try to find someone else to play with them. We spend a lot of time making sure nobody is left out. The kids are really good to each other, and if someone wants to get up from the Clue game, which requires more attention span than most of them have, to play Uno with a lonely kid, nobody cares. I compelled three of my 8th grade boys to let an younger, awkward girl to be the banker in their Monopoly because that's all she wanted to do, and they didn't even blink an eye. Love those kids!
We've contemplated moving our club to the library where there are more tables (space, oxygen, air conditioning), and if we get over 40, which I think we hit yesterday, we might just need to do that, but for now, Mrs. E. and I are just giddy that we have such a large group of students from all grades who just want to hang out after school and be kids.
Oh, and you know what's crazy? The boy who wanted to come play Axis and Allies decided to go Tennis Club on Fridays instead!
August 27, 2011
How Little It Takes
As many of you know, I teach at a full time at a middle school during the day, and in the evening, I teach two classes at an alternative high school. I teach the accelerated (what we call advanced, guess) during the day, and at night as, you might imagine in an alternative setting, my students are at a much lower skill level. In fact, one of the classes I teach is writing/reading proficiency, which is specifically for students who have not passed the the state proficiency exam or have been deemed in need of to help to pass. Sadly, my 8th graders are often better writers than my 12th graders. I blog about my high school students more often because the highs and lows are so extreme. Because of that, I probably experience more intrinsic rewards. (To balance out how much they drive me to drink.)
Last night, we met for the first and only time we will during the year. It was a two-hour meeting where the principal reviewed the most important rules and procedures for the school. With this, he also provided pep talks and professional development for our success at the school. He finished early, so we could pick up our keys and get ready for Monday. Most of us left with 30 minutes to left of the allotted two hours. How can this be? In an less than two hours, we did what has taken me three contracted days (plus two more on my dime) at my full time job.
Of course, my principal rides on the coat tails of others. All of us teach at other district schools during the day (it's a requirement of the job), where we all have had plenty of training on how using our grades, preparing our students for testing and life beyond high school, and all the other stuff.
The interesting part is that the principal never says, "Oh, you have heard this all at your other school." He doesn't labor over test scores with us. He doesn't remind us to use the standards. (What else would we use?) He just wants us to come in each night and use our best practices to teach our students. "Remediate the whole class if you have to! They don't know it. They missed it somewhere. Just teach them!" Of course, we are trying to get our students to graduate, with hopes of sending them to post secondary school or training, but he doesn't beating us with it. Furthermore, his pep talk on how to be effective in our classrooms has a ring of, "You all know how to do this, but here's a reminder to get ya going." I feel respected as a teacher. He has faith in our abilities. Although, we don't get a formal evaluation from him each year, he knows our abilities because he comes into our classrooms everyday. Every. Day. No joke. He knows what's going on. If he didn't like it, he would tell us. If it was terrible enough, he would say, "This isn't working out," and we'd be on our way out the door. We all know it's the truth. It's happened. Am I threatened with the ease of which we could be fired? Nope.
It's not that my daytime principal does not have faith in our abilities. She does. She even told us in her back-to-school spiel, and I believe that she believes in us. However, sometimes actions speak louder than words, and the hoops I am compelled to jump through--the trainings on the latest buzz words, the newest programs that will make the students learn, the documentation, the test analysis, and all the rest--belittle me. (Many of these hoops from the higher ups.) I appreciate how we are always trying to make learning better for our students, but when will I ever be good enough? Am I doing anything right?
Comparing my two schools is certainly like comparing apples and oranges. My middle school has 1400+ students, while my high school has 100-200, depending on the quarter and how many concurrent students attend. (There are students who only go there, which are the ones I usually have so late at night, and then there are others who have a regular day school and just come for a few classes.) During the day, we have five administrators and three counselors to assist with student troubles, while at night we have one principal and one counselor. At night, I hardly know my colleagues, and I do not have to plan and meet with them on a weekly basis. It's just me, in a classroom, usually populated with fewer than 20 students, helping students learn, often with individualized instruction that is difficult for me to manage with my 30+ middle schoolers. Things are really just too different to ponder, but I sometimes I just can't help it.
For years, I have marveled at how little it takes for me to do my job at the alternative high school. I walk into the school, minutes before class starts, tag-team the teacher who uses the classroom before I do, drop my bag, get out my materials, write the agenda on the board, and start teaching. It takes about three minutes--if I have it to spare. Sometimes, I just have to start teaching. I have no paid prep time, and when the students walk out the door at the end of the day, I'm right behind them, racing them out of the parking lot onto the dark streets. A lot goes on during my two hours (I'll perhaps paint a picture another day) of teaching there, but give me a classroom full of student, some paper and pencils, and we're ready go to. A whiteboard and marker help, but I could do it without.
That experience, night after night, drives home that teaching students does not have to be so complicated. Think about it. How little do you need to teach?
Last night, we met for the first and only time we will during the year. It was a two-hour meeting where the principal reviewed the most important rules and procedures for the school. With this, he also provided pep talks and professional development for our success at the school. He finished early, so we could pick up our keys and get ready for Monday. Most of us left with 30 minutes to left of the allotted two hours. How can this be? In an less than two hours, we did what has taken me three contracted days (plus two more on my dime) at my full time job.
Of course, my principal rides on the coat tails of others. All of us teach at other district schools during the day (it's a requirement of the job), where we all have had plenty of training on how using our grades, preparing our students for testing and life beyond high school, and all the other stuff.
The interesting part is that the principal never says, "Oh, you have heard this all at your other school." He doesn't labor over test scores with us. He doesn't remind us to use the standards. (What else would we use?) He just wants us to come in each night and use our best practices to teach our students. "Remediate the whole class if you have to! They don't know it. They missed it somewhere. Just teach them!" Of course, we are trying to get our students to graduate, with hopes of sending them to post secondary school or training, but he doesn't beating us with it. Furthermore, his pep talk on how to be effective in our classrooms has a ring of, "You all know how to do this, but here's a reminder to get ya going." I feel respected as a teacher. He has faith in our abilities. Although, we don't get a formal evaluation from him each year, he knows our abilities because he comes into our classrooms everyday. Every. Day. No joke. He knows what's going on. If he didn't like it, he would tell us. If it was terrible enough, he would say, "This isn't working out," and we'd be on our way out the door. We all know it's the truth. It's happened. Am I threatened with the ease of which we could be fired? Nope.
It's not that my daytime principal does not have faith in our abilities. She does. She even told us in her back-to-school spiel, and I believe that she believes in us. However, sometimes actions speak louder than words, and the hoops I am compelled to jump through--the trainings on the latest buzz words, the newest programs that will make the students learn, the documentation, the test analysis, and all the rest--belittle me. (Many of these hoops from the higher ups.) I appreciate how we are always trying to make learning better for our students, but when will I ever be good enough? Am I doing anything right?
Comparing my two schools is certainly like comparing apples and oranges. My middle school has 1400+ students, while my high school has 100-200, depending on the quarter and how many concurrent students attend. (There are students who only go there, which are the ones I usually have so late at night, and then there are others who have a regular day school and just come for a few classes.) During the day, we have five administrators and three counselors to assist with student troubles, while at night we have one principal and one counselor. At night, I hardly know my colleagues, and I do not have to plan and meet with them on a weekly basis. It's just me, in a classroom, usually populated with fewer than 20 students, helping students learn, often with individualized instruction that is difficult for me to manage with my 30+ middle schoolers. Things are really just too different to ponder, but I sometimes I just can't help it.
For years, I have marveled at how little it takes for me to do my job at the alternative high school. I walk into the school, minutes before class starts, tag-team the teacher who uses the classroom before I do, drop my bag, get out my materials, write the agenda on the board, and start teaching. It takes about three minutes--if I have it to spare. Sometimes, I just have to start teaching. I have no paid prep time, and when the students walk out the door at the end of the day, I'm right behind them, racing them out of the parking lot onto the dark streets. A lot goes on during my two hours (I'll perhaps paint a picture another day) of teaching there, but give me a classroom full of student, some paper and pencils, and we're ready go to. A whiteboard and marker help, but I could do it without.
That experience, night after night, drives home that teaching students does not have to be so complicated. Think about it. How little do you need to teach?
June 5, 2011
The Final Act
Glancing up at the clock, I see that it is exactly 12 hours until my class starts in the morning. In the morning, it will be the last week of school. Finally. My mood is better just thinking about it.
At my school, the last week is rather anti-climatic. We have one full day of classes, and then the next three days are minimum days where students come in and take exams for two classes each day. I still have to show up the day after that to...do whatever until I can take my keys and check out papers to the office.
It is not a week full of field days and fun. Students may not bring backpacks to school, and they are searched at the gates each morning. No stink bombs, Sharpies, and shaving cream for the kiddos! They may bring pencil and paper. Please bring a pencil; you are taking a test today.
After the last class, we escort our students to the quad and herd them outside the gates. Yes the message is very much, "Get the hell outta here!" I mean, uhm, "Go home and enjoy your afternoon while your teachers spend the afternoon grading your exams."
It's always amused me because I hear of other schools who have a week of fun, and my school is all about academics. Plus, we take every measure to avoid shenanigans that will result in the school being trashed the last week of school.
I've often felt sad for my 8th graders. Although in the week prior, we do have an awards ceremony (not everyone is invited, though) and the fancy 8th grade dance, their final moments in middle school are almost hostile.
Last year, the administration decided to hold a short promotion exercise after school on the last day. I think such ceremonies have been frowned upon a bit because there are people who think that 8th grade is as much education as one needs; however, it's a pretty big deal to be leaving middle school and moving onto high school, so why not celebrate?
Representatives from all of our classes formed the promotion committee where students decided on songs, colors, and guest speakers from the student body and faculty. The students walk in front of the stage where their names are called along with their future high schools. I love that part. It's not the end for them; it's the beginning!
That's more like it! A celebration for the students, by the students. That leaves much more lasting memories.
At my school, the last week is rather anti-climatic. We have one full day of classes, and then the next three days are minimum days where students come in and take exams for two classes each day. I still have to show up the day after that to...do whatever until I can take my keys and check out papers to the office.
It is not a week full of field days and fun. Students may not bring backpacks to school, and they are searched at the gates each morning. No stink bombs, Sharpies, and shaving cream for the kiddos! They may bring pencil and paper. Please bring a pencil; you are taking a test today.
After the last class, we escort our students to the quad and herd them outside the gates. Yes the message is very much, "Get the hell outta here!" I mean, uhm, "Go home and enjoy your afternoon while your teachers spend the afternoon grading your exams."
It's always amused me because I hear of other schools who have a week of fun, and my school is all about academics. Plus, we take every measure to avoid shenanigans that will result in the school being trashed the last week of school.
I've often felt sad for my 8th graders. Although in the week prior, we do have an awards ceremony (not everyone is invited, though) and the fancy 8th grade dance, their final moments in middle school are almost hostile.
Last year, the administration decided to hold a short promotion exercise after school on the last day. I think such ceremonies have been frowned upon a bit because there are people who think that 8th grade is as much education as one needs; however, it's a pretty big deal to be leaving middle school and moving onto high school, so why not celebrate?
Representatives from all of our classes formed the promotion committee where students decided on songs, colors, and guest speakers from the student body and faculty. The students walk in front of the stage where their names are called along with their future high schools. I love that part. It's not the end for them; it's the beginning!
That's more like it! A celebration for the students, by the students. That leaves much more lasting memories.
May 3, 2011
Celebrating People Like Me
It's finally here! National Teacher Day, the day where the students celebrate their teachers by lavishing them with gifts that cannot be construed as bribes.Oddly enough, it is one of the few holidays in our country that doesn't encourage people to purchase massive amounts of junk food or expensive greeting cards.
The
(Okay, I'll be honest. The student who brought the jam has been bringing sweet little teacher gifts all week. She's not a brown-noser or anything. She--along with her mother who is an elementary teacher--is just very thoughtful.)
Too bad that the everyone does not get behind lavishing teachers with gifts. Bring on those apples, but please keep in mind that teachers are truly powered by chocolate. I don't care that over the 15 years I've taught I've accumulated 2 teacher coffee mugs, I could always use more; there are seven days in a week, you know! And it is here that I have to admit my personal shame in my lack of teacher-related pencil and ruler-shaped jewelry. By the way, I like rubies are my birthstone, but anything shiny enchants me.
Oh, but in all honesty, I really do appreciate the simple things in life. My students could get a little creative in their gift-giving. Perhaps they could follow all of the rules without acting like they hadn't learned about classroom procedures 9 months ago. Maybe they could turn in all of their homework assignments done to perfection. How thrilled I would be if they listen to me with rapt attention as if they truly believed I am the smartest person they know. Now, that would be a great gift to the average secondary teacher!
November 25, 2010
Thanksgiving HappyChyck Style
I hope everyone has had a lovely Thanksgiving. I am thankful for my family, friends, and just my life in general. No complaints here. It's as simple as that.
The kids are with their maternal family this weekend, and we had no other plans, so when I woke up this morning, I seriously had no idea what was the plan for the day. In the end, we had a leisurely morning of coffee and news--if you can call it that because it was such a slow day the newscasters were playing [frozen] turkey bowling--and then we drove over the Hoover Dam Bypass. Uhm...not that exciting. It's very pretty to look at, except while one is on it, of course, and what's worse is that the sides are so high that one can see over it to the Colorado River. I suppose it's for the best, but we passengers would appreciate the scenery.
We contemplated driving an hour to Kingman, Arizona for the heck of it, but I wasn't sure what kind of Thanksgiving dinner option we'd have, so we turned around. On the way back into the city we had Holiday Edition of this Typical Dining Out Conversation:
Me: "So where do you want to eat?"
Him: "Wherever."
Me: "No, really. Any ideas?"
Him: "Nope. You decide."
Me: "I. Don't. Know. Why don't you choose?"
Him: "Whatever you want to do, hun."
Me: "Can't you make a choice about dinner for once? Does it even matter to you?"
Him: "Nope."
Long silence.
Me: "Do you want to go to a buffet or a restaurant?"
Him: "Whatever."
More silence.
Me: Well, we could go to Green Valley Ranch for a change. Or maybe Marie Callender's. They'll have a nice dinner. Oh! Claim Jumpers is open for a Thanksgiving Dinner. Any of those sound good?
And then I waited to see where we actually ended up.
In a classic Vegas move, we went to Green Valley Ranch for buffet. We waited in line for about 45 minutes for some terrible turkey. Bummer! It wasn't in the carving station (Fish and prime rib were); instead, it was in strangely uniform slices in a pan of broth. However, some of the sides, like a spaghetti squash dish, pumpkin ravioli, and a Greek salad with cranberries were delightful. My sweetie ate his fill of crab legs and shrimp. Much like a family Thanksgiving dinner, if one dish is found unpalatable, surely there are many other yummy things to eat.
This evening my sweetie and I are hanging out in our warm cozy home. More coffee. Sappy holiday movies on television. Oh! I should "turn on" the fire place. Blissfully, simply peaceful.
If you are relaxing with your computer this holiday weekend, do as I did and go back and read my Thanksgiving stories from 2006. Start here and follow the links after each one. These old stories of mine make me smile. I hope you enjoy them, too!
The kids are with their maternal family this weekend, and we had no other plans, so when I woke up this morning, I seriously had no idea what was the plan for the day. In the end, we had a leisurely morning of coffee and news--if you can call it that because it was such a slow day the newscasters were playing [frozen] turkey bowling--and then we drove over the Hoover Dam Bypass. Uhm...not that exciting. It's very pretty to look at, except while one is on it, of course, and what's worse is that the sides are so high that one can see over it to the Colorado River. I suppose it's for the best, but we passengers would appreciate the scenery.
We contemplated driving an hour to Kingman, Arizona for the heck of it, but I wasn't sure what kind of Thanksgiving dinner option we'd have, so we turned around. On the way back into the city we had Holiday Edition of this Typical Dining Out Conversation:
Me: "So where do you want to eat?"
Him: "Wherever."
Me: "No, really. Any ideas?"
Him: "Nope. You decide."
Me: "I. Don't. Know. Why don't you choose?"
Him: "Whatever you want to do, hun."
Me: "Can't you make a choice about dinner for once? Does it even matter to you?"
Him: "Nope."
Long silence.
Me: "Do you want to go to a buffet or a restaurant?"
Him: "Whatever."
More silence.
Me: Well, we could go to Green Valley Ranch for a change. Or maybe Marie Callender's. They'll have a nice dinner. Oh! Claim Jumpers is open for a Thanksgiving Dinner. Any of those sound good?
And then I waited to see where we actually ended up.
In a classic Vegas move, we went to Green Valley Ranch for buffet. We waited in line for about 45 minutes for some terrible turkey. Bummer! It wasn't in the carving station (Fish and prime rib were); instead, it was in strangely uniform slices in a pan of broth. However, some of the sides, like a spaghetti squash dish, pumpkin ravioli, and a Greek salad with cranberries were delightful. My sweetie ate his fill of crab legs and shrimp. Much like a family Thanksgiving dinner, if one dish is found unpalatable, surely there are many other yummy things to eat.
This evening my sweetie and I are hanging out in our warm cozy home. More coffee. Sappy holiday movies on television. Oh! I should "turn on" the fire place. Blissfully, simply peaceful.
If you are relaxing with your computer this holiday weekend, do as I did and go back and read my Thanksgiving stories from 2006. Start here and follow the links after each one. These old stories of mine make me smile. I hope you enjoy them, too!
November 16, 2010
Some Love Me; Some Hate Me
Love
When I walked onto campus at night school this evening, I found one of my students from last year, Evelyn, sitting on one of the benches. I was very happy to see her, and we exchanged hugs.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her.
"I came to see you!"
"No, you didn't!" They always say that, and it's sweet, but I'm not the primary person they come to see. They just want to see everyone.
"Yes, Miss!" she exclaimed, "I've been waiting since about 4:30 p.m. They said you'd be here sometime but it was going to be a while."
She waited two hours to see me. Wow. Do I feel loved!
Evelyn was one of those students that by the end of the year, I was more like an auntie to her. She was in two of my classes, and because she didn't pass her writing proficiency exam, she was one of three of the remaining students I had in my remedial class during the 4th quarter.
I love it when the students come back to show us they are hanging in there and doing well. It was a major bright spot to my day.
Hate
I had a parent conference with one of my 8th graders today. He is on probation in the program for his grades, and during the 1st quarter he ended up with a D in my class. A few weeks into this quarter, he has an F. He has turned nothing in!
Now, as a person, I really like this kid. He is polite and he participates in discussions, but his follow-through is terrible.
I went into the conference shootin' straight with the mom and the boy. He claimed that he was not good at reading and writing, which is just fine, but I can't work with a pile of excuses. Bring me a craptastic piece of writing or stupid questions on a reading, and I can help, but bring nothing to the table and I'll bring out Queen Cranky.
The conference went pretty well. The boy was excited about the mock writing proficiency test we took today (and he was one of the last ones working because he was trying so hard ), and come to find out that his t.v. production teacher gave him some tips and a way to think about approaching writing. That's awesome that she has been able to help him make writing more relevant to his life. He is also doing very well in his Algebra class, so we looked at how he could transfer the strategies he uses to be successful in some of his other classes, including mine.
At the end, we set some goals and discussed the idea that he needed to come for help after school sometimes. Before we parted, his mother thanked me and told me that he was embarrassed around me. Embarrassed? I asked the boy if I had ever embarrassed him because although I can bea bitch strict, I didn't ever mean to embarrass him. In fact, he is not even one of my targeted fools in his class.
What she really meant was that sometimes he was too embarrassed to ask me for help. The boy confirmed that I had never done anything to embarrass him, but apparently I have a reputation that precedes me from his brother, who was never actually a student of mine, but he was such a...well...pain in the butt...that I certainly know who he is.
Poor kid. I had to explain to him that he need not be afraid. If he were to come to me for help, I'd be nice as pie. I just have no patience for excuses or laziness.
_____________
I think I'm a pretty nice teacher, but I'm not all sunshine and rainbows. More often than not, I just don't have much patience for shenigans. (Later in the year when I'm more tired I might be.) I'm not the kind of teacher that makes a great first impression. I kind of grow on the students, and even students like Evelyn have taken plenty of my wrath when they were acting like fools. The smart ones realize that in the end, I am mean because I care. My bark is worse than my bite, as they say.
When I walked onto campus at night school this evening, I found one of my students from last year, Evelyn, sitting on one of the benches. I was very happy to see her, and we exchanged hugs.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her.
"I came to see you!"
"No, you didn't!" They always say that, and it's sweet, but I'm not the primary person they come to see. They just want to see everyone.
"Yes, Miss!" she exclaimed, "I've been waiting since about 4:30 p.m. They said you'd be here sometime but it was going to be a while."
She waited two hours to see me. Wow. Do I feel loved!
Evelyn was one of those students that by the end of the year, I was more like an auntie to her. She was in two of my classes, and because she didn't pass her writing proficiency exam, she was one of three of the remaining students I had in my remedial class during the 4th quarter.
I love it when the students come back to show us they are hanging in there and doing well. It was a major bright spot to my day.
Hate
I had a parent conference with one of my 8th graders today. He is on probation in the program for his grades, and during the 1st quarter he ended up with a D in my class. A few weeks into this quarter, he has an F. He has turned nothing in!
Now, as a person, I really like this kid. He is polite and he participates in discussions, but his follow-through is terrible.
I went into the conference shootin' straight with the mom and the boy. He claimed that he was not good at reading and writing, which is just fine, but I can't work with a pile of excuses. Bring me a craptastic piece of writing or stupid questions on a reading, and I can help, but bring nothing to the table and I'll bring out Queen Cranky.
The conference went pretty well. The boy was excited about the mock writing proficiency test we took today (and he was one of the last ones working because he was trying so hard ), and come to find out that his t.v. production teacher gave him some tips and a way to think about approaching writing. That's awesome that she has been able to help him make writing more relevant to his life. He is also doing very well in his Algebra class, so we looked at how he could transfer the strategies he uses to be successful in some of his other classes, including mine.
At the end, we set some goals and discussed the idea that he needed to come for help after school sometimes. Before we parted, his mother thanked me and told me that he was embarrassed around me. Embarrassed? I asked the boy if I had ever embarrassed him because although I can be
What she really meant was that sometimes he was too embarrassed to ask me for help. The boy confirmed that I had never done anything to embarrass him, but apparently I have a reputation that precedes me from his brother, who was never actually a student of mine, but he was such a...well...pain in the butt...that I certainly know who he is.
Poor kid. I had to explain to him that he need not be afraid. If he were to come to me for help, I'd be nice as pie. I just have no patience for excuses or laziness.
_____________
I think I'm a pretty nice teacher, but I'm not all sunshine and rainbows. More often than not, I just don't have much patience for shenigans. (Later in the year when I'm more tired I might be.) I'm not the kind of teacher that makes a great first impression. I kind of grow on the students, and even students like Evelyn have taken plenty of my wrath when they were acting like fools. The smart ones realize that in the end, I am mean because I care. My bark is worse than my bite, as they say.
November 5, 2010
Coffee Talk
Sometimes the best part of my day is when I get to school 20 minutes early so I can catch up on the news and have 7am conversations with my friend and colleague, Heidi. We have been tea drinking buddies over the years, and we have amassed quite a collection of teas.
However, lately both of us have been craving coffee, which is something I only drink at leisure on the weekends. Strong. With flavored creamer. It's a beautiful thing. A lot of people need coffee in the morning to function. I am finding it simply pleasure to cherish.
October 29, 2010
Reflection on a Problem Student
A post at The Desert Glows Green brought to surface a dilemma I'm having about one of my students at night school. What does one do with a student who talks, talks, talks?
Last night I had a conversation with the counselor about a student whom I have in both proficiency English and creative writing. He's been a pain in my butt most of the year, so it's been an on-going conversation between us, and it has has gone between the counselor and the student, too. One night I had enough and sent her an e-mail along the lines of, "Talk to this kid, or tomorrow there will be a homicide." It's a small school, so she grabbed him out of class that very night. The line of the conversation between them leaned heavily on the fact that he's a leader, and he's leading the wrong way--this was a slant I wanted to focus on. According to the counselor, the student wants to do well, he wants to graduate, but I just don't see that most of the time. Apparently he's so much better than he used to be. I guess I'm thankful I am working with the new and improved version.
Although he needs the help to pass his proficiencies, we are thinking about taking him out of that class because he leads too many people astray with his attitude and misbehavior. Part of me does not want to give up on him, but then he is directly affecting the development of two other students. In a class of 10, that's a pretty big deal. He goofs off, talking Spanish all the time with three other boys (one will pass his proficiency), and then when I'm on their asses to get on task, it ruins the class atmosphere, and it becomes me and against them.
Now, the rest of the class, they are able to function pretty well despite these disruptive boys. Sometimes they'll join in and laugh at a joke or something, but with such a small class, I think that's normal. The difference is, the rest of them can get back on task. The rest of them produce writing. The rest of them understand that the more they write, the more feedback I can give them, the faster they will become proficient. The rest of them are acting maturely, even to the point they tell the boys to be quiet and get on task. Two of the students in the class are also ELL students who do not speak Spanish, and they get irritated with all the Spanish speaking, too, and will often tell them to stop speaking in Spanish. These other students I adore.
While I am writing this, the obvious choice, since I have one, is to dump him from the proficiency class. Although the counselor and I would like for him to pass his proficiencies and graduate, at this point we are leaning toward the stance that if the student does not want to help himself he can go down the hallway to art, which is also an elective credit, and leave the class to those who are desperate to help themselves. He doesn't want to be in the class anyway, and if he knew we were considering it, he'd be camped out in the counselor's office until she changed his schedule.
Last night, the class was smaller than it usually is, sans the students with a bad attitude and one of his friends, with the gradebook closed out for the quarter and a five-day weekend ahead, we sat at a table ready to play word game, but instead the students asked me about how much money I made. They always want to know that, and the technical answer is that we all make different amounts because we have different levels of experience and education. It's uncomfortable, but I told them how much I make, which blew them away. However, that segued nicely into a long conversation about education and careers and how hard and long the average person has to work to make good money. Not one of the students believed that they would be able to get rich quick. They are all preparing to work hard in the next few years so they can play hard later in life. That's a refreshing perspective I don't often see in young people.
They shared with me their plans, hopes, dreams, and fears. It's moments like this I love working at the alternative high school. It's these in-between moments when I'm a different kind of teacher, and even more like a friend or wise auntie, that I really feel like I make a difference in their lives. I can push and prod them to get more education, be it a certification program or a college degree and try a career, instead of a job. They are on the brink of the rest of their lives, and they understand how important their choices are right now. Yes, they are nervous but mostly excited. Some simply need to pass their proficiency test to they can move on, while others finally see that their abilities to communicate will make a huge difference in the opportunities they have.
On my drive home, I reflected back to the conversations and questions they had, and I realized that had the problem student been there, it would not have been such a candid discussion. He would have turned everything into a joke, focusing the attention on himself. It's what he does in every situation. He needs to go. He's not at the same place the rest of the students in his class are in. They are growing up. He's not there yet.
Last night I had a conversation with the counselor about a student whom I have in both proficiency English and creative writing. He's been a pain in my butt most of the year, so it's been an on-going conversation between us, and it has has gone between the counselor and the student, too. One night I had enough and sent her an e-mail along the lines of, "Talk to this kid, or tomorrow there will be a homicide." It's a small school, so she grabbed him out of class that very night. The line of the conversation between them leaned heavily on the fact that he's a leader, and he's leading the wrong way--this was a slant I wanted to focus on. According to the counselor, the student wants to do well, he wants to graduate, but I just don't see that most of the time. Apparently he's so much better than he used to be. I guess I'm thankful I am working with the new and improved version.
Although he needs the help to pass his proficiencies, we are thinking about taking him out of that class because he leads too many people astray with his attitude and misbehavior. Part of me does not want to give up on him, but then he is directly affecting the development of two other students. In a class of 10, that's a pretty big deal. He goofs off, talking Spanish all the time with three other boys (one will pass his proficiency), and then when I'm on their asses to get on task, it ruins the class atmosphere, and it becomes me and against them.
Now, the rest of the class, they are able to function pretty well despite these disruptive boys. Sometimes they'll join in and laugh at a joke or something, but with such a small class, I think that's normal. The difference is, the rest of them can get back on task. The rest of them produce writing. The rest of them understand that the more they write, the more feedback I can give them, the faster they will become proficient. The rest of them are acting maturely, even to the point they tell the boys to be quiet and get on task. Two of the students in the class are also ELL students who do not speak Spanish, and they get irritated with all the Spanish speaking, too, and will often tell them to stop speaking in Spanish. These other students I adore.
While I am writing this, the obvious choice, since I have one, is to dump him from the proficiency class. Although the counselor and I would like for him to pass his proficiencies and graduate, at this point we are leaning toward the stance that if the student does not want to help himself he can go down the hallway to art, which is also an elective credit, and leave the class to those who are desperate to help themselves. He doesn't want to be in the class anyway, and if he knew we were considering it, he'd be camped out in the counselor's office until she changed his schedule.
Last night, the class was smaller than it usually is, sans the students with a bad attitude and one of his friends, with the gradebook closed out for the quarter and a five-day weekend ahead, we sat at a table ready to play word game, but instead the students asked me about how much money I made. They always want to know that, and the technical answer is that we all make different amounts because we have different levels of experience and education. It's uncomfortable, but I told them how much I make, which blew them away. However, that segued nicely into a long conversation about education and careers and how hard and long the average person has to work to make good money. Not one of the students believed that they would be able to get rich quick. They are all preparing to work hard in the next few years so they can play hard later in life. That's a refreshing perspective I don't often see in young people.
They shared with me their plans, hopes, dreams, and fears. It's moments like this I love working at the alternative high school. It's these in-between moments when I'm a different kind of teacher, and even more like a friend or wise auntie, that I really feel like I make a difference in their lives. I can push and prod them to get more education, be it a certification program or a college degree and try a career, instead of a job. They are on the brink of the rest of their lives, and they understand how important their choices are right now. Yes, they are nervous but mostly excited. Some simply need to pass their proficiency test to they can move on, while others finally see that their abilities to communicate will make a huge difference in the opportunities they have.
On my drive home, I reflected back to the conversations and questions they had, and I realized that had the problem student been there, it would not have been such a candid discussion. He would have turned everything into a joke, focusing the attention on himself. It's what he does in every situation. He needs to go. He's not at the same place the rest of the students in his class are in. They are growing up. He's not there yet.
May 27, 2010
Ama
I have been an English teacher for long enough that I can see why students make certain mistakes. Most of them are quite predictable, so I typically try to address the common problems before I see it too much. Usually the students are quite shocked to find that they are even making errors. Often my bilingual students are the worst because they do not understand that what we say is not what we write.
The evolution of cause (worse: cuz) is easy to explain to students.
Incorrect usage: My sister boyfriend is a tool cause he dropped out of school.
Of course, that sentence does not make sense because, technically, cause is the wrong word. It makes no sense in the context.
So, I show students: because --> 'cause --> cause --> cuz.
I don't need to give you the details; you know how this disaster happens. It has to do with how we speak. No big deal, right? Just use the real word in your writing. Are you imagining me in front of the classroom explaining this devolution? I always like those days because I see light bulbs going off all over the classroom along with a chorus of "Oh! I didn't know!" From juniors and seniors! Hilarious!
In the last few years, I have seen of joins the verb ranks, nearly putting poor have out of a job. This one is frustrating and harder to explain to students who simply want to use the language well enough to pass their proficiency writing exams and get a job. Even more, it's absolutely entertaining seeing students who know the difference interact with students who don't.
A conversation between two students in my creative writing class:
"'My brother should of given me some money.' This is suppose to be have not of."
"Huh?"
"It's should HAVE, not should OF."
"Are you sure?"
"YES! SHOULD HAVE. HAVE. HAVE!"
"Uhm. Okay. I guess--Hey, Ms. HappyChyck, is it should have or should of?"
And then a series of eye rolls follow (between me and the students who know the answer to this easy question) as I calmly answer, "Yep, it's have."
It's during time like those that all the suffering I endure being a blasted English teacher is worth it.
As in tune as I am to these common writing issues in my classroom, so much that I hardly blink an eye over them, this week one of my students who just joined my class this quarter introduced me to a new crazy devolution of language.
AMA
As in, "Ama miss you next year." This is what the student wrote in a letter to a teacher she was thanking for helping her in her education. A letter, I need to add, that would be given to her teacher--not just a random writing assignment. A real letter on nice paper! Time to make a good impression!
I called her over to so I could help her revise, and I said, "What the heck is this?"
"Ama."
"You mean, 'I am going to,' right?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"You should change it. Nobody is going to know what you're saying. Use some real words, even if they are contractions."
"Oh no, Miss, she'll get it!"
"I doubt it."
"No, she will!" And then the girl went bouncing back to her seat like she had no worries in the world.
Does anyone have a gun? A needle? Please, shoot me now!
I just sat like the speechless, powerless fool I am.
Sometimes I hate being an English teacher.
The evolution of cause (worse: cuz) is easy to explain to students.
Incorrect usage: My sister boyfriend is a tool cause he dropped out of school.
Of course, that sentence does not make sense because, technically, cause is the wrong word. It makes no sense in the context.
So, I show students: because --> 'cause --> cause --> cuz.
I don't need to give you the details; you know how this disaster happens. It has to do with how we speak. No big deal, right? Just use the real word in your writing. Are you imagining me in front of the classroom explaining this devolution? I always like those days because I see light bulbs going off all over the classroom along with a chorus of "Oh! I didn't know!" From juniors and seniors! Hilarious!
In the last few years, I have seen of joins the verb ranks, nearly putting poor have out of a job. This one is frustrating and harder to explain to students who simply want to use the language well enough to pass their proficiency writing exams and get a job. Even more, it's absolutely entertaining seeing students who know the difference interact with students who don't.
A conversation between two students in my creative writing class:
"'My brother should of given me some money.' This is suppose to be have not of."
"Huh?"
"It's should HAVE, not should OF."
"Are you sure?"
"YES! SHOULD HAVE. HAVE. HAVE!"
"Uhm. Okay. I guess--Hey, Ms. HappyChyck, is it should have or should of?"
And then a series of eye rolls follow (between me and the students who know the answer to this easy question) as I calmly answer, "Yep, it's have."
It's during time like those that all the suffering I endure being a blasted English teacher is worth it.
As in tune as I am to these common writing issues in my classroom, so much that I hardly blink an eye over them, this week one of my students who just joined my class this quarter introduced me to a new crazy devolution of language.
AMA
As in, "Ama miss you next year." This is what the student wrote in a letter to a teacher she was thanking for helping her in her education. A letter, I need to add, that would be given to her teacher--not just a random writing assignment. A real letter on nice paper! Time to make a good impression!
I called her over to so I could help her revise, and I said, "What the heck is this?"
"Ama."
"You mean, 'I am going to,' right?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"You should change it. Nobody is going to know what you're saying. Use some real words, even if they are contractions."
"Oh no, Miss, she'll get it!"
"I doubt it."
"No, she will!" And then the girl went bouncing back to her seat like she had no worries in the world.
Does anyone have a gun? A needle? Please, shoot me now!
I just sat like the speechless, powerless fool I am.
Sometimes I hate being an English teacher.
December 12, 2009
Now Do You Understand Why I'm a Teacher?
I fell out of touch with my best friend from childhood when I was in college. We became BFFs the summer before middle school and stayed that way all through high school--even after she moved to a different city a few hours away during our sophomore year.
There is no exact moment when our friendship ended--that I can recall anyway. We started to grow apart about the time she voiced her disdain for my career choice. You know, being a teacher. We teachers (and teachers-to-be) have a hard enough time in society that we don't need the flak from our friends and family members. Of course, she became a chemical engineer, and right out of college her starting salary was about $30,000 more than mine--especially in Utah, where at the time, had I been able to get a job there 13 years ago, I would have been making about $18,000 a year. (I did much better by moving to Nevada.)
I guess our perspectives about the world were different by that time in our lives. She thought a career like hers was better than mine, and I suggested to her that she would never have gotten where she was had it not been for teachers. She was smart, and I'll admit she was always smarter than I was--especially in math and science--but she didn't come out of the womb ready to be a chemical engineer.
It's hard to say what was going on at her end that she would let our friendship fade. My own motives may not have been all about my career choice, as I lost touch with nearly all of my high school friends by the time I was in my mid-20's, but I know I have always felt particularly bitter about her non-support of me.
We reconnected about six years ago, but it was through just a few fleeting e-mails, and in the end, I felt her judgment through the great tubes of the Internet. The details are not the point of this post, though.
Just last year, we reconnected, once again, through the wonder of Facebook. I'm a major fan of Facebook, as I was of MySpace, too, because it brings me great joy to see how old friends are doing. When she requested my friendship, I was initially reluctant because I have this damn grudge. I am not even one who holds grudges, but this one is deep. After many weeks of ignoring the request, I decided there was no harm.
We don't talk. She's a friend whose updates I read, and only occassional check the "like" button or perhaps will include a lighted-hearted comment about something, like, "Way to go on running your marathon!"
Last night she posted her thoughts about the importance of educating women, after listening to a podcast where Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea. If you're not familiar with what he advocates, here's what he has to say about the value of educating girls, in reference to his work in Pakistan and Afghanistan:
You know I want to comment on that so badly. This is a concept I use everyday with my alternative education girls, right here in America, especially the ones who are pregnant or have children. I tell them how proud I am that they are trying to make a better life for their families and how important it is for them to be educated mothers. It is so hard for them to stay in school when they have so many responsibilities. Sure, as moms, they won't fight terrorism, but they will fight poverty, broken families, racism, and perhaps even violence. Their circumstances are real and right here.
My middle school girls are typically in much better situations, but right now we happen to be doing a Pennies for Peace campaign, which stems from Mortenson's work, and whenever I can, throughout the year, I emphasize to all my students how blessed we are to live in a country where all students, including girls, have all the opportunities they could ever imagine to have an education. The focus on global awareness in program helps them think about how they might make a difference in the world, in places where there are wonderful people, wonderful cultures, but terrible circumstances.
What I like to say to my friend:
Your revelations about the world saturate my daily life. The power of education, which you find to be a profound thought, is the force that drives my life's work.
I am a teacher.
There is no exact moment when our friendship ended--that I can recall anyway. We started to grow apart about the time she voiced her disdain for my career choice. You know, being a teacher. We teachers (and teachers-to-be) have a hard enough time in society that we don't need the flak from our friends and family members. Of course, she became a chemical engineer, and right out of college her starting salary was about $30,000 more than mine--especially in Utah, where at the time, had I been able to get a job there 13 years ago, I would have been making about $18,000 a year. (I did much better by moving to Nevada.)
I guess our perspectives about the world were different by that time in our lives. She thought a career like hers was better than mine, and I suggested to her that she would never have gotten where she was had it not been for teachers. She was smart, and I'll admit she was always smarter than I was--especially in math and science--but she didn't come out of the womb ready to be a chemical engineer.
It's hard to say what was going on at her end that she would let our friendship fade. My own motives may not have been all about my career choice, as I lost touch with nearly all of my high school friends by the time I was in my mid-20's, but I know I have always felt particularly bitter about her non-support of me.
We reconnected about six years ago, but it was through just a few fleeting e-mails, and in the end, I felt her judgment through the great tubes of the Internet. The details are not the point of this post, though.
Just last year, we reconnected, once again, through the wonder of Facebook. I'm a major fan of Facebook, as I was of MySpace, too, because it brings me great joy to see how old friends are doing. When she requested my friendship, I was initially reluctant because I have this damn grudge. I am not even one who holds grudges, but this one is deep. After many weeks of ignoring the request, I decided there was no harm.
We don't talk. She's a friend whose updates I read, and only occassional check the "like" button or perhaps will include a lighted-hearted comment about something, like, "Way to go on running your marathon!"
Last night she posted her thoughts about the importance of educating women, after listening to a podcast where Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea. If you're not familiar with what he advocates, here's what he has to say about the value of educating girls, in reference to his work in Pakistan and Afghanistan:
“In Africa, they say, ‘Educate a boy and you educate an individual. Educate a girl and you educate a community.’” Several global studies show that sending girls to school significantly decreases infant and maternal mortality rates, helps stabilize population growth, and improves the quality of health and life for everyone in the community. And, Mortenson emphasizes, educated mothers are less likely to condone their sons’ joining terrorist groups. He sees a direct link between building schools in an unstable part of the world and security at home.
You know I want to comment on that so badly. This is a concept I use everyday with my alternative education girls, right here in America, especially the ones who are pregnant or have children. I tell them how proud I am that they are trying to make a better life for their families and how important it is for them to be educated mothers. It is so hard for them to stay in school when they have so many responsibilities. Sure, as moms, they won't fight terrorism, but they will fight poverty, broken families, racism, and perhaps even violence. Their circumstances are real and right here.
My middle school girls are typically in much better situations, but right now we happen to be doing a Pennies for Peace campaign, which stems from Mortenson's work, and whenever I can, throughout the year, I emphasize to all my students how blessed we are to live in a country where all students, including girls, have all the opportunities they could ever imagine to have an education. The focus on global awareness in program helps them think about how they might make a difference in the world, in places where there are wonderful people, wonderful cultures, but terrible circumstances.
What I like to say to my friend:
Your revelations about the world saturate my daily life. The power of education, which you find to be a profound thought, is the force that drives my life's work.
I am a teacher.
November 21, 2009
Who Doesn't Love Some Discarded Books?
Magical Mystical Teacher's Six Word Saturday is
Books open doors. Open a book!
I concur!
I opened up a book last night, and finished it this morning. It was brain candy romance that I read when I need a fix but do not have a lot of time. Not sure it opened a lot of doors, but it relieved some stress by allowing me to escape reality for a little while.
One of my colleagues passed on a box of brain candy to me the other day. She is no so unlike me in that she does not have a lot of time but needs to zone out, so she brought a whole box to my classroom marked "Desk Supplies." I'm not sure if it's a reused box, or it was disguised to hide our dirty little secret.
About that same time, Ari, a senior girl in my proficiency class, brought Tana French's In the Woods and asked if I'd read it. She also asked if I had anything good to read. I enjoyed In the Woods (although the end was not as good as it could have been compared to the rest), and we talked books for a while, but sadly, I did not have anything to pass on. I haven't been reading much for leisure (education research journals anyone?), and I donated a my box of unwanted books before I moved. It's not that I'm book poor, but the stack I have is of unread books only.
The box of brain candy changed things because my colleague passed it on to me saying, "Just pass them on when you are finished!" I went through and picked out what I didn't want to read or had already read, and what I thought would be okay to pass on to students and came up with a little pile of John Grisham (been over him since '99), Mary Higgins Clark (haven't I read just about everything she's written?), and Nicholas Sparks (I can take him or leave him).
I was so ecstatic to see them attack the pile like hungry teens on pizza! Some of them admitted to enjoying reading, but others who took books were indifferent. A couple thought they had to take a book, but when they realized they didn't, they reconsidered and put it back. Whatever. What was interesting is that those who don't read a lot but were excited to have a book to read. It's interesting how sometimes if you just give a kid a book, and these "kids" are two inches from being full-blown adults, they will take it happily and read it. Some of them won't read it, I know from experience, but the fact that they just blasted excited to get a book is so wonderful!
Once or twice the past, I've brought extra books in for my alt ed kids to take home, and I get the same reaction. How hard it would it be for me to bring in some books to give away from time to time? Their tastes are probably closer to mine than my middle schoolers, as they also read both young adult and adult books. I typically like to trade my books in for new ones to read, but if I'm money smart, I can do this pretty inexpensively. It's a little impact, but maybe for a couple of teens, owning a book, or being "given" a book, even if it's from a pile of discarded books, is a treasure. I know it is to me!
I opened up a book last night, and finished it this morning. It was brain candy romance that I read when I need a fix but do not have a lot of time. Not sure it opened a lot of doors, but it relieved some stress by allowing me to escape reality for a little while.
One of my colleagues passed on a box of brain candy to me the other day. She is no so unlike me in that she does not have a lot of time but needs to zone out, so she brought a whole box to my classroom marked "Desk Supplies." I'm not sure if it's a reused box, or it was disguised to hide our dirty little secret.
About that same time, Ari, a senior girl in my proficiency class, brought Tana French's In the Woods and asked if I'd read it. She also asked if I had anything good to read. I enjoyed In the Woods (although the end was not as good as it could have been compared to the rest), and we talked books for a while, but sadly, I did not have anything to pass on. I haven't been reading much for leisure (education research journals anyone?), and I donated a my box of unwanted books before I moved. It's not that I'm book poor, but the stack I have is of unread books only.
The box of brain candy changed things because my colleague passed it on to me saying, "Just pass them on when you are finished!" I went through and picked out what I didn't want to read or had already read, and what I thought would be okay to pass on to students and came up with a little pile of John Grisham (been over him since '99), Mary Higgins Clark (haven't I read just about everything she's written?), and Nicholas Sparks (I can take him or leave him).
I was so ecstatic to see them attack the pile like hungry teens on pizza! Some of them admitted to enjoying reading, but others who took books were indifferent. A couple thought they had to take a book, but when they realized they didn't, they reconsidered and put it back. Whatever. What was interesting is that those who don't read a lot but were excited to have a book to read. It's interesting how sometimes if you just give a kid a book, and these "kids" are two inches from being full-blown adults, they will take it happily and read it. Some of them won't read it, I know from experience, but the fact that they just blasted excited to get a book is so wonderful!
Once or twice the past, I've brought extra books in for my alt ed kids to take home, and I get the same reaction. How hard it would it be for me to bring in some books to give away from time to time? Their tastes are probably closer to mine than my middle schoolers, as they also read both young adult and adult books. I typically like to trade my books in for new ones to read, but if I'm money smart, I can do this pretty inexpensively. It's a little impact, but maybe for a couple of teens, owning a book, or being "given" a book, even if it's from a pile of discarded books, is a treasure. I know it is to me!
August 18, 2009
A "Why Me?' Situation
For some reason, my professional development session on writing was scheduled for 7:30 am. The other sessions hadn't started until 8:00 am, so most of my English peeps were none too happy with me. As if I were the one who made the schedule. Talk to the boss!
I arrived at 7:00 am, knowing that I needed to make sure I had my materials pulled together and the projector set up in the library. The librarian said she would be there, but just in case she forgot that the session was earlier than the others, I needed time to find get someone to let me into the library.
It was not until 7:20 am, when someone from the office staff arrived to open a door. (I guess I was wrong when I thought some staff members started at 7:00 am? Hmmm...) Apparently, there was already someone there, but she had not bothered to unlock the doors. I asked the staff person who let us in--by that time two of my colleagues had arrived--to please call for janitor to unlock the library. The janitors were also on campus, but they were nowhere to be found.
I left some things outside the library so when a janitor showed up, he/she would see that someone was trying to get in, and then I went to my classroom to gather my materials.
Ten minutes later, my English peeps were trickling in, and we were still locked out of the library. So much for helpful office staff. I ran down the stairs to find some help. I ran into the principal, who gave me her keys, but she also had important information for me that she had to share just then. You know, at the exact time where the session she had scheduled me for was suppose to be starting. After I made it upstairs, more English peeps had gathered, and we filed into the library, where I discovered that the LCD projector the librarian said I could use was nowhere to be found. Seriously!
Because we are good at back-up plans, we decided to move the training to one of our classrooms. I was already pretty frazzled, so while I ran the keys back to the principal, someone else hooked up my computer and projector, neither of which I had even turned on yet this year. I ran into the librarian, who wondered why I looked so frazzled. She was apologetic and offered to get the projector out, but I told her we'd already activated Plan B.
When I came back, everyone was seated, ready to start, and I was sweaty and winded, but glad to finally be ready to go--at 7:50 am. I cannot even tell you how irritating it is to not start on time, but they all knew that it was just one of those bad mornings.
My colleagues said it was one of the best professional development sessions they'd been to all week--even after the electricity went out in the middle of a riveting PowerPoint that was raising some interesting conversation. We just kept going.
Even after the disastrous morning, it was a blast sharing ideas and discussing writing with my English peeps. It reminded me of a typical day in the classroom. Things go wrong. I look foolish, but life goes on, and it's all good.
I arrived at 7:00 am, knowing that I needed to make sure I had my materials pulled together and the projector set up in the library. The librarian said she would be there, but just in case she forgot that the session was earlier than the others, I needed time to find get someone to let me into the library.
It was not until 7:20 am, when someone from the office staff arrived to open a door. (I guess I was wrong when I thought some staff members started at 7:00 am? Hmmm...) Apparently, there was already someone there, but she had not bothered to unlock the doors. I asked the staff person who let us in--by that time two of my colleagues had arrived--to please call for janitor to unlock the library. The janitors were also on campus, but they were nowhere to be found.
I left some things outside the library so when a janitor showed up, he/she would see that someone was trying to get in, and then I went to my classroom to gather my materials.
Ten minutes later, my English peeps were trickling in, and we were still locked out of the library. So much for helpful office staff. I ran down the stairs to find some help. I ran into the principal, who gave me her keys, but she also had important information for me that she had to share just then. You know, at the exact time where the session she had scheduled me for was suppose to be starting. After I made it upstairs, more English peeps had gathered, and we filed into the library, where I discovered that the LCD projector the librarian said I could use was nowhere to be found. Seriously!
Because we are good at back-up plans, we decided to move the training to one of our classrooms. I was already pretty frazzled, so while I ran the keys back to the principal, someone else hooked up my computer and projector, neither of which I had even turned on yet this year. I ran into the librarian, who wondered why I looked so frazzled. She was apologetic and offered to get the projector out, but I told her we'd already activated Plan B.
When I came back, everyone was seated, ready to start, and I was sweaty and winded, but glad to finally be ready to go--at 7:50 am. I cannot even tell you how irritating it is to not start on time, but they all knew that it was just one of those bad mornings.
My colleagues said it was one of the best professional development sessions they'd been to all week--even after the electricity went out in the middle of a riveting PowerPoint that was raising some interesting conversation. We just kept going.
Even after the disastrous morning, it was a blast sharing ideas and discussing writing with my English peeps. It reminded me of a typical day in the classroom. Things go wrong. I look foolish, but life goes on, and it's all good.
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