Field trippin'

Two months and no posts...I am terrible. I swear, this is the week when I turn it all around. Or so I say. Today was the fifth grade's second journey to the National Museum of the American Indian. We took the city bus, but as this was the second time around, we seemed to have the hang of it. A shout goes out to our inclusion specialist Ms. Palmer, who bravely accompanied us today. I couldn't (and certainly wouldn't) have done it without her.

Last year I did not plan any of my own field trips, so these past few weeks have taught me many things. Here are a few:

1. Be sure to call when running late to avoid having the principal threaten to not let you go on any field trips again, ever. (Fortunately, after brief consideration, he relented.)
2. Read the entire bus schedule. The little dashes mean the bus does not actually go to your desired destination.
3. No amount of preparation can predict how the carefully crafted structure sheets will work when in the hands of actual students. Or flying out of the hands of actual students across the National Mall and probably ending up somewhere in Virginia.
4. Don't plan on actually having the kids eat the authentic Native American food from the food court when chicken fingers and fries are an option.

And so on, and so forth. We are going to the same museum again next week, and as always I will have to adjust what I had planned. The important thing, though, was that we all learned something. Just kidding. The actual important thing was that we made it back to school in one piece, with all of our coats, hats, gloves and notebooks.

An anecdote for today:
A challenge that I would have written about long before had I posted with any regularity is that I have a student in my class who is a brand new arrival from the Dominican Republic. Not only did he come in speaking no English, he is quite the lively (read: exhausting) fellow. At least now he asks if he can go to the bathroom rather than shouting "Voy al baño" on his way out the door. But anyway, he didn't bring money for the authentic Native American cuisines/chicken fingers today, probably because I did not actually tell him that this was something we were doing. I must remember to translate these essential items into Spanish. So, since he was the only one without money for a snack and I actually did want to try some Native American food, I bought him some food as well. I was thinking as we sat down that I should have gotten a soda for myself when out of nowhere Miguel (as I will call him) pulls out a plastic cup from who-knows-where and pours half his drink into it for me. What can I say about that other than quoting the great lyricist Brad Paisley. "Oh, I live for little moments like that."