Spring in my step

Ah, yes, it's true. It's Wednesday night and I have nowhere to be, nothing to do (officially) until Monday. This is, of course, the last time this will happen until mid-June. I celebrated today by doing my taxes and doing some classroom spring cleaning, which meant finally tossing some classwork from Thanksgiving. No recycling at school, so I lug it home one trash bag at a time and jam it into our teeny house recycling bin. Next year I have designs on some sort of school-wide program, but for now its all I can do to make sure my copious numbers of Diet Coke cans don't end up in a landfill.

I've already read two books over the break, both good, neither one educationally related. The first, Expecting Adam, was a joyous, witting and life-affirming account of the birth of a child with Down's Syndrome. If anyone is in need of some spirit (or Spirit) lifting, definitely check it out. The other book, Into the Wild was non-fiction, and not something I would ordinarily pick-up. It chronicles the last months and years of Christopher McCandless, the young man who gave up all of his worldly possessions and walked into the Alaskan wilderness, dying of starvation a few months later. Though it seemed grim at the outset, my aunt assured me that it was not, and she was right. Fascinating, puzzling and at times painful though it was, it was not depressing. The most interesting thing that I found about the book was the author's voice, which was apparent throughout. I will suffice it to say that the author was much more than a neutral party in the story's telling.

My next book to swallow whole this break is Setting Limits in the Classroom. I was recently criticized, rather harshly, for my control in the classroom, and I am interested in reading this book because I know that I need to improve, but I refuse to give in to the suggestions that I "make the students sit down" or "be more strict, even if some of them are your favorites." I know that there has to be a better way, and I intend to find it. I have another book, called the Pre-Referral Intervention Manual or PRIM that was given to me at the principal of my last school, at a time when I was in waaaay too far over my head to feel like I could analyze individual student behaviors. Now, I have the time and energy for that, and this book is perfect. It is basically a catalog of problem behaviors exhibited by students, with 50+ suggestions on what to try with the student before referring them to the office. Which is good, because I have determined that the way I will know if I have mastered behavior management is if a) I no longer raise my voice, ever and b) I don't send kids to the office...unless I, for the third day in a row, forgot to put out my attendance sheet.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

How many times a day do I say the same thing over again? My coworker and I often joke that we would save ourselves a lot of energy if we just had a little keyboard, where each key would utter, rather than a high C or a low G, a phrase that as teachers, we have worn all the way out. We have come up with a few essentials, including, "Sit down", "Stop bothering him", "No, you may not go to the bathroom", and "Get out your copybook". I suggested that the keyboard also include a button for each student, so with a simple two-finger move, I could play, "James, sit down". If it were really high-tech, it would record how many times each student's name button was pressed in a day, and when a student reached some maximum (having pushed too many buttons, so to speak), a trap door would open up and slide her directly into the office. I'm telling you, this new invention would be way more useful than the new iPod 8000 or whatever they're on these days.

On the topic of listening, or lack thereof, we have started doing some listening exercises in class. The ones we have done in the past few day have been from at 3rd and 4th grade book, but they seem to be working out so far. The activities are basically a group of pictures or numbers with distinguishing characteristics. The students cross off the pictures as they hear the clues, such as "My favorite clown does not have a pickle for a nose". In the end, they are left with one picture, which they record on their notecard. I am hoping to use activities like these as a warm-up, and eventually segue into some more complex listening activities, such as enjoying some kid-friendly podcasts as a class and recording important information as we go.

One of my goals as a teacher, which will likely not be met for a few years, is to have my students so familiar with the routines and procedures of the classroom that I won't have to say the same thing 8,000,000 times a day. I believe the mark of a great teacher is a classroom where things seem to run smoothly all on their own. The children sit when they need to sit and go to the bathroom when they need to go and, for crying out loud, get out their copybooks when they need to get out their copybooks. But I am not yet a great teacher, as I am reminded many times a day. My hope for now is that by recognizing my many areas of growth, I am already taking the first steps up the mountain of greatness. Until I reach the top, or at least a slightly more elevated ledge, maybe I'll teach my class sign language. Carpal tunnel syndrome, here I come.

Ben Carson: M.D.

Whew! And here I was thinking that I would be this awesome blogger, recording my every experience with eloquence beyond my years. Now it's been over a week since my last post, and I am only barely able to keep my eyes open to finish this sentence....

Today was field trip day, thanks to the lovely and talented Lisa Rowe, the fourth grade teacher at my school and the best, most hilarious mentor a girl could ask for. The fourth, fifth and sixth grades set out on what one of my students referred to as a "cheese bus", bound for Baltimore to bask in the presence of the apparently-well-known-but-new-to-me Dr. Ben Carson. My students read his biography last year and did some sort of report, so they knew much more about him than me. For those unenlightened ones of you out there, he is the chief of pediatric neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins teaching hospital. (I'm still not sure what's up with the name Johns Hopkins, which rolls rather awkwardly off the tongue, but that is a mystery for another day.) Dr. Carson was giving a talk entitled THINK BIG, which was part motivational speech and part "let's look at nasty pictures of babies with enormous tumors". Fortunately, my students are banned from having snack this week, so no actual sickness occurred on their part. However, after seeing the pic of the boy with the metal rod through his eye, I imagine they will think twice before going sledding any time soon.

Overall, despite the aforementioned pictures, the field trip was a success, and nothing is cuter than watching a bunch of fifth graders fall asleep on the bus ride home like the little kids they still are inside.

Before I fall into bed, I want to link to a poem that often comes to mind when I think about teaching. More than any inspirational, sickly sweet chicken soup, it single-handedly encapsulates so much about teaching in a few short verses. The language is a bit PG-13 at times, but it is too fabulous not to share.

What Teachers Make, or
Objection Overruled, or
If things don't work out, you can always go to law school

Amen to that.

Just a short post today because it is Sunday night and I have plenty to do and think about for this week. I have been meaning, for the past two days, to write about the professional development that I attended on Friday afternoon. At my school, the students have a half day every Friday so that the teacher can attend all manner of meetings and such. This not a bad thing, theoretically, and there have certainly been valuble experiences in those afternoons. A few weeks ago, I attended a Friday afternoon session on differentiated instruction that was amazing. The presenter was a 30-year-old, phD-possessing, educational fountain of information that rocked my world-no joke. I left the session feeling energized and inspired to taylor my instruction so that each child could reach his or her potential. I have been looking for ways to remove myself from the front of the classroom and work with my students in a meaningful, hands-on way, and after that particular meeting, I felt like my desires were right on with the true meaning of education.

With all of this still banging around my head on Friday afternoon, imagine my sadness at spending three hours discussing how to teach students how to take standardized tests. And those three hours are nothing compared to what's to come. I haven't looked in my test-prep folder yet, but the word on the street is that the "Twelve Days of Terra Nova" mean that the students and I are expected to spend more than 2 weeks preparing for these tests, for something like 5 hours a day. So much for reducing the amount of teacher-directed instruction. I suppose that, as a Catholic school teacher, I should be glad that until now, the test-talk has been kept to a minimum. However, I am far from convinced that these next few weeks will be anything but an unfortunate waste of everyone's time. Less than three weeks until spring break.

To end on a more positive note, I am beginning a new spelling program this week called Words Their Way, which I have heard great things about. The students are broken up into three groups based on spelling ability, and each week that groups get a different set of words to sort and manipulate. Cutting out all of the slips of paper has been a bit tedious, but I am looking forward to adding a new facet to the individualized (in this case, small-group) instruction that I love so much.