Question 5

This is the last part of an educators' writing challenge that is making the rounds on the internet. It's called "Five Questions", and the idea is to answer them and then tag some other teachers to try it, too. My good friend and writing group buddy, Ellen, shared her responses and tagged all of us at our recent meeting.

5. Which five people do you hope will take this challenge by answering these questions?

I re-tag Ellen, who I hope will publish the ideas she shared with us the other night, and Mary and Leah, because even though I said I was just going to accept the challenge to fill my blog, it turned out to be a valuable exercise, and I believe they would think so, too.

I also tag my sister-in-law, Emily, who is a wonderful art teacher and who has a fun blog called This place needs more art.

Finally, I'd love to see what my friend Ruth, who is a non-traditional teacher, has to say. She and I met in that masters program back in 1991, and she was instrumental in getting me my first (and only!) teaching job. Since then, she has homeschooled her boys, worked on staff at the Fairhaven School, and most recently earned her doctorate in education, writing her dissertation on play theory.

Go for it guys!

Question 4

This is part 4 of an educators' writing challenge that is making the rounds on the internet. It's called "Five Questions", and the idea is to answer them and then tag some other teachers to try it, too. My good friend and writing group buddy, Ellen, shared her responses and tagged all of us at our recent meeting. 

4. Give four reasons you remain in education despite today's rough culture.

I was 29 when I decided that I should trade my days, or rather nights, of cooking professionally for a career in teaching. To be honest, cooking was a sidetrack, because from the time I was a little girl when someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up the answer was always a teacher.

There was a required practicum in the second semester of the masters program I enrolled in to get my teaching credentials; each of us had to spend 40 hours in a school observing. I will never forget the way I felt when I pushed open the plate glass door and set foot on the polished terrazzo floor on my first day. The smell made me stop in my tracks; some magical combination of chalk dust, children, number 2 pencils, oak tag, tempera paints, and textbooks transported me back 20 years to my own elementary school, and I knew that I was in exactly the right place.

Since that day I have never questioned my decision to become a teacher or wished for another career. There have been trying times, yes, but there have been many more wonderful moments with students and colleagues alike that have reaffirmed my choice a thousand times over.

It helps that I am good at what I do. After so many years on the job, I have a knack for finding a good lesson or activity, and it's fun to plan instruction. It's also very rewarding when everything clicks, especially when I get to see kids who are understanding something for the very first time. Minds blown, their eyes widen, and they just can't help smiling, because it is

so

cool

to learn.

And because it so cool to learn, I love the fact that not only my workplace but my life is actually dedicated to that very amazing thing. Sure, we bicker over the content and methods, but we all really want the same fundamental thing: kids who

can
and do
and will continue

to learn.

In that respect, I feel like I am both contributing and needed, and so I choose to continue.

Question 3

This is part 3 of an educators' writing challenge that is making the rounds on the internet. It's called "Five Questions", and the idea is to answer them and then tag some other teachers to try it, too. My good friend and writing group buddy, Ellen, shared her responses and tagged all of us at our recent meeting. I was happy to accept, mostly because I knew right away I could serialize my responses and that meant five days of ready-made topics for this blog!

3. What are three things you hope to accomplish before the end of the school year?

Of course I'd really love to resolve that CLT thing I wrote about in Question 1. Believe me, I am working on it. Just the other day I read a poem with my students by Portia Nelson called Autobiography in Five Short Chapters, which is all about accepting responsibility when things go wrong rather than blaming circumstances or other people. I know I need to ask myself what I can do or change to make this professional relationship functional and productive, and I intend to keep trying to avoid that hole until I can walk down another street. (Read the poem to get the metaphor!)

Secondly,  I have probably reached the last third of my career, and I want to find a way to keep the next 10-15 years as fresh and rewarding as the best years of the first 23. That could mean some big changes for this gal who has spent her entire career in one discipline at one grade level at one school mostly in one classroom. Will I figure it all out this year? Maybe not, but I hope to start.

Finally, we have an 8th grade student at our school who has been a challenge to work with for the last couple of years. I knew him well in sixth grade, but now he has the raging hormones and general angst of any 13 year old boy. He also has Downs syndrome. His meltdowns and temper tantrums are well-known throughout the building, but his father is very supportive and involved in his son's schooling.

Henry is in Heidi's homeroom this year, and she has worked hard to channel his restlessness and energy in a positive and appropriate direction. As an example, she arranged for him to work at the school store a couple of mornings a week with members of the National Junior Honor Society. At first he loved it, but after a few weeks he wanted to quit, so Heidi mentioned it to his dad.

"We are not a family of quitters," his father told him. "Are you needed in this job?'

His son said he was.

"Are you contributing?" the father continued.

His son answered yes again.

"Then you must continue," his father said.

This story resonated deeply with me when Heidi told me about it, and although I'm not in any danger of quitting, my third goal for this year is simply to continue.

(Which brings us to Question 4... more on that next time!)

Question 2

To recap: This is part of an educators' writing challenge that is going around the internet. It's called "Five Questions", and the idea is to answer them and then tag some other teachers to try it, too. My good friend and writing group buddy, Ellen, shared her responses and tagged all of us at our recent meeting. As I wrote yesterday, I was thrilled because I recognize a serial when I see it!

2. Share two accomplishments that you are proud of this school year.

Just this morning one of our neighbors treated us to a passionate anti-Valentine's Day rant. "It's not even a real holiday!" she complained as the rocking chair she sat in seesawed vehemently. "It is just the product of commercialization!"

That may well be, but I can tell you this: kids love Valentine's Day. I remember back in elementary school spending all sorts of class time each year creating personal card sacks. Fashioned from a simple brown lunch bag, they were personalized and decorated and hung from each student's desk like a little mail box. Then on Valentine's Day there would be time set aside before the party (that our room mothers prepared for us) to drop cards in their respective bags. "You have to have one for everybody in the class," my own mother insisted when I was signing the colorful cardboard cards  had chosen and addressing their flimsy white envelopes that never stayed sealed. "It's not nice to leave someone out."

This year, yesterday was the last school day before Valentine's Day, and even though in middle school we neither decorate bags nor throw parties, the occasion is celebrated nevertheless. Sadly, not everyone gets a Valentine (perhaps because it isn't really a sanctioned school activity), but as a teacher, I usually do. This year was no exception. I got a homemade paper rose filled with Hershey Kisses, a couple of lollipops, two cards, and a comic book.

One of the cards was from a former student, and it had a very lengthy message in it thanking me for all I had done last year to make him a better writer. He specifically mentioned the hundred day writing challenge I sponsor each year and said that before my class he didn't like writing and it was hard for him, but now things have really improved. I knew he meant it, because I had also received a note from his mom at the new year telling me the same thing.

As much as I appreciated that validation of my planning and practice, my favorite gift was the comic book. It was another original work by the student who wrote Have Fun with Pants for me at Christmas. Just as before, his work, Bill in Love, was whimsical, well-written, and very funny, and I don't mean to take any credit for his creativity other than to point out that there's something about the vibe in my class that makes him feel comfortable to share his genius.

And those are the two things I'm most proud of this year:

I have given my students the opportunity and the motivation to consider themselves writers.

Question 1

There's a little educators' writing challenge going around the internet lately. It's called "Five Questions", and the idea is to answer them and then tag some other teachers to try it, too. My good friend and writing group buddy, Ellen, shared her responses and tagged all of us at our meeting  last night. I was thrilled, because I immediately decided to break it up into a series of five posts, which gave me five days of not having to think of a topic! Thanks, Ellen!

1. What has been your one biggest struggle during this school year?

In general, I've been having a pretty good year. I like my students, and the interdisciplinary grade-level team of teachers I am on works really well together to support our group of 100+ kids. Plus, we have fun together; there is always lots of laughing in our classrooms and in our meetings, too.

I am also at a point in my career where I know how to do what needs to be done: I have a variety of knowledge, skills, and strategies in both my instructional and management tool boxes to handle most situations effectively. Sure, it still takes some time to plan, prepare materials, and assess my lessons, but that's my job, and I like it.

And I've been around long enough to see for myself that trends in education really are like shooting stars burning brightly on a dark night, full of wishes and promises. I do my best not to be dismissive or resentful of programs and approaches that are encouraged or even imposed on us; rather I try to look at them as evidence that teaching is such a complex combination of art and science that the search for a magic bullet is irresistible. I also remind myself frequently that people feel so strongly about public school and education because they know how important it is.

Even so, some of the initiatives that have been added to our practice are burdensome to me. Work smarter not harder! A rising tide lifts all boats! They are all *our* students! Such slogans are often used to rationalize the practice of requiring teachers to collaborate with their grade-level, subject-area colleagues. Common units, common lessons, and common assessments are all the hallmarks of these CLTs (collaborative learning teams), and time has been re-allocated from interdisciplinary teams so that these groups can meet and work together. But cooperation and competition are two sides of the same coin; being required to function as a common unit and actually being a functional common unit are two very different things.

And that is my biggest struggle this year: my CLT is a drain of my time and energy. We spend 45 minutes twice a week checking the meeting box, but every meeting is full of defensive comments and complaints. The time we spend is neither productive nor beneficial to us or our students, and it's exceptionally stressful to be part of such an unsuccessful group, especially when we are bombarded by the expectation that our CLT should be a key component to improving our practice.

I guess I'm just not used to failing.