I co-coach the girls basketball team at my school, and I have for several years. It's a short season, 8 games, but it requires a substantial after-school commitment-- 2:30-4, five days a week for about eight weeks; game days run longer.
At the beginning of each season, like now, when I'm trying to figure out where those 90 minutes are going to come from in my daily schedule, I always wonder exactly why I am doing it. I get a stipend for my time, and it's nice to get some extra cash in my check when the season is over, but it's not really enough to compensate me for the time I spend. What is it then?
Well...
I like seeing the students in another setting-- first hand knowledge of their strengths is always helpful, and we all know students who shine on the court, but not in the classroom.
I like having the chance to get to know students I don't teach. In my opinion, teaching sixth grade at a middle school is ideal, because once you've been there for three years, you know about half the kids. This way, I know even more than that.
I like the opportunity to work with a colleague with whom I probably never would, otherwise. The guy I coach with is a PE teacher at my school, and we don't have very much in common, other than the 14 seasons we've worked together, but I consider him a friend.
I like the positive image that coaching gives me with the kids. When they hear that I'm the basketball coach, they're impressed, and it's an easy way to connect with kids whose main interests are outside of English class.
So far, that's been worth it.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
What Next?
The school system sent home a letter over the weekend for parents to give permission to have their children get a free H1N1 immunization. I don't know what I was expecting, but the response has been underwhelming. Of the eleven students in my homeroom, only 2 have returned their permission slips. Families have until the end of the week to respond, but I'm not getting the sense that everyone's on board with this effort to vaccinate 100% of our citizens under the age of 24. There seems to be some uncertainty.
I could be mistaken. This morning, some kids were reporting that they hadn't received the notice, yet; some said it was still on the table for their parents to read again more carefully and sign. Some seemed awfully anxious about the prospect of getting a shot, and I wouldn't be surprised if their opt-in form turned up in some future locker clean out, unless it's already on its way to the landfill.
Regardless, it seems like disorganization has been the only constant throughout this flu epidemic. Take the last four days at our school as an example: no one knew the letters were going home, so the whole staff was called to a "stand-up meeting" five minutes before the kids got there yesterday, a Monday morning. At that time, our principal told us what to do with the forms when they came in. She also said that the vaccinations were going to start next week, except that we found out today that the vaccine hasn't actually arrived, yet. Currently, the plan is to immunize all the children in the county, starting with the youngest, who need two doses, and moving up, so middle schools won't have it for at least 12 weeks. On the other hand, "some people" think we should provide the vaccinations school by school, and if they prevail, then everything will change.
At that five-minute meeting we had yesterday morning, one of my colleagues asked when immunizations would be available for teachers. His point is well-taken, if an identified vulnerability is children, then educators are on the front line; even so, we're not eligible to be vaccinated.
I understand that complexities exist and unexpected situations arise (I'm a teacher, after all), but still, I'm disappointed by this failure of the infrastructure.
I could be mistaken. This morning, some kids were reporting that they hadn't received the notice, yet; some said it was still on the table for their parents to read again more carefully and sign. Some seemed awfully anxious about the prospect of getting a shot, and I wouldn't be surprised if their opt-in form turned up in some future locker clean out, unless it's already on its way to the landfill.
Regardless, it seems like disorganization has been the only constant throughout this flu epidemic. Take the last four days at our school as an example: no one knew the letters were going home, so the whole staff was called to a "stand-up meeting" five minutes before the kids got there yesterday, a Monday morning. At that time, our principal told us what to do with the forms when they came in. She also said that the vaccinations were going to start next week, except that we found out today that the vaccine hasn't actually arrived, yet. Currently, the plan is to immunize all the children in the county, starting with the youngest, who need two doses, and moving up, so middle schools won't have it for at least 12 weeks. On the other hand, "some people" think we should provide the vaccinations school by school, and if they prevail, then everything will change.
At that five-minute meeting we had yesterday morning, one of my colleagues asked when immunizations would be available for teachers. His point is well-taken, if an identified vulnerability is children, then educators are on the front line; even so, we're not eligible to be vaccinated.
I understand that complexities exist and unexpected situations arise (I'm a teacher, after all), but still, I'm disappointed by this failure of the infrastructure.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Sincerest Form of Flattery
This year, I'm trying to express a focus of the week (or weeks) in a question. So the weekly schedule sort of goes like this: on Monday, the students explore the question by interacting with their independent reading, on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, they work to answer this guiding question through our common texts and apply the principles we've uncovered to their writing.
I think it's a sound idea, and I'm trying to make the questions broad enough that we can circle back to them throughout the year in different contexts with different genres in order to build understanding of concepts.
So far the focus questions have been:
What draws you into a book?
How do writers use sensory details to create an experience for the reader?
Where does poetry hide?
How do writers use figurative language to create meaning?
How do writers use models to improve their craft?
The last one is our focus this week, so today I asked them to choose sentences from their books, break them down, and then write similar sentences. What an interesting day we had. We started with a conversation about how artists or craftsmen use models. Students offered ideas about painters, musicians, carpenters, and chefs. Then we used a model that I had chosen because it had figurative language, sensory details, and a dash, to review what we'd already focused on and to introduce the notion of deliberate punctuation. Finally, they did their own thing, and by their work, I was able to assess how much they got of the lesson.
Using sentence-level models from real literature offers an effective way to talk about and teach grammar and punctuation in a meaningful context, especially if students have chosen both the passage and the book. Tomorrow we're going to read George Ella Lyon's poem, Where I'm From, and the students will have a chance to use it as a model for their own poems.
I think it's a sound idea, and I'm trying to make the questions broad enough that we can circle back to them throughout the year in different contexts with different genres in order to build understanding of concepts.
So far the focus questions have been:
What draws you into a book?
How do writers use sensory details to create an experience for the reader?
Where does poetry hide?
How do writers use figurative language to create meaning?
How do writers use models to improve their craft?
The last one is our focus this week, so today I asked them to choose sentences from their books, break them down, and then write similar sentences. What an interesting day we had. We started with a conversation about how artists or craftsmen use models. Students offered ideas about painters, musicians, carpenters, and chefs. Then we used a model that I had chosen because it had figurative language, sensory details, and a dash, to review what we'd already focused on and to introduce the notion of deliberate punctuation. Finally, they did their own thing, and by their work, I was able to assess how much they got of the lesson.
Using sentence-level models from real literature offers an effective way to talk about and teach grammar and punctuation in a meaningful context, especially if students have chosen both the passage and the book. Tomorrow we're going to read George Ella Lyon's poem, Where I'm From, and the students will have a chance to use it as a model for their own poems.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Art and Discipline
My sister-in-law is an artist who chose to become a public school art teacher. We were talking at dinner tonight about her homework expectations for her students. "I just want them to do some art outside of school," she said. "I think it's really important." I completely understand; I want my students to read and write outside of our classroom, too.
Recently, there was a piece on The Washington Post website by David C. Levy, former director of the Corcoran Gallery, called The Problem with School Art Programs: Teachers Who Can Barely Draw. His premise is that "the majority of K-12 art teachers graduate without rigorous training in the fundamental skills that underpin competence in their discipline." He compares art teachers to music teachers, positing that no school system would ever hire a music teacher who could not read and play music. He also compares art teachers to English teachers, writing, "For example, while English teachers may not be able to write The Great American Novel, the chances are pretty good that they can compose a competent essay."
Art, music, literature-- I agree that to be an effective teacher in these disciplines one must be a proficient practitioner as well, but I also believe that proficiency is too low a standard. What we hope for our students is that our instruction and their discipline will yield genuine artistry, and voluntary practice beyond the classroom is evidence that they are moving in that direction.
Recently, there was a piece on The Washington Post website by David C. Levy, former director of the Corcoran Gallery, called The Problem with School Art Programs: Teachers Who Can Barely Draw. His premise is that "the majority of K-12 art teachers graduate without rigorous training in the fundamental skills that underpin competence in their discipline." He compares art teachers to music teachers, positing that no school system would ever hire a music teacher who could not read and play music. He also compares art teachers to English teachers, writing, "For example, while English teachers may not be able to write The Great American Novel, the chances are pretty good that they can compose a competent essay."
Art, music, literature-- I agree that to be an effective teacher in these disciplines one must be a proficient practitioner as well, but I also believe that proficiency is too low a standard. What we hope for our students is that our instruction and their discipline will yield genuine artistry, and voluntary practice beyond the classroom is evidence that they are moving in that direction.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Circle the Wagons
Sometimes, before I compose my post, I click through the new entries on my blog roll. It helps me get down to business... or does it help me avoid business? Either way, it's a habit, and I did it tonight. It was a pleasant surprise to see that my 14-year-old nephew had posted to his blog in the last 45 minutes, especially since I'd just seen him a couple of hours ago, when we had taken him to see his older brother perform in a School of Rock show.
When he was finished with his part in the show, my older nephew, who is 17 and has his own car, decided to stay until the end, but we were ready to split, so we got on the road an hour or so ahead of him. It's been raining all day here, and the roads are terrible. In the dark, the glare off the wet pavement makes it impossible to see the lane lines, and the tires of any car ahead of you spray a fine mist onto your windshield that even the best wipers can't keep clear. After my own safe arrival home, though, I wasn't thinking of any of that when I clicked on the link to Nemo's latest post. I gasped when I read what he had written:
Um, I just found out my brother was in a car crash. I think he's okay, but it's really scary to think about. We just lost someone in our family. What if he wasn't okay? It seems wrong that bad things can happen to people I care about. HEY UNIVERSE DO YOU KNOW THAT YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG? Well, I guess we're lucky that he's okay.
Amen to that.
When he was finished with his part in the show, my older nephew, who is 17 and has his own car, decided to stay until the end, but we were ready to split, so we got on the road an hour or so ahead of him. It's been raining all day here, and the roads are terrible. In the dark, the glare off the wet pavement makes it impossible to see the lane lines, and the tires of any car ahead of you spray a fine mist onto your windshield that even the best wipers can't keep clear. After my own safe arrival home, though, I wasn't thinking of any of that when I clicked on the link to Nemo's latest post. I gasped when I read what he had written:
Um, I just found out my brother was in a car crash. I think he's okay, but it's really scary to think about. We just lost someone in our family. What if he wasn't okay? It seems wrong that bad things can happen to people I care about. HEY UNIVERSE DO YOU KNOW THAT YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG? Well, I guess we're lucky that he's okay.
Amen to that.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Guilty as Charged
Our counselor routinely meets with small groups of kids at lunch, just to check in with them. Today she and the minority achievement coordinator had four or five boys eating together, so they asked them how things were going. "Fine," one guy answered, "except my English teacher is trying to turn me into a poet."
Thursday, October 15, 2009
A Virtue
I'm feeling impatient.
It seems like I'm still not doing a good job giving my students time to write, mostly because the poem and mini-lesson are taking too much time at the front end of class. It's not as though they could sustain more than 15-20 minutes of solid writing anyway, but the transitions continue to be a little rough, and it seems that the bell rings too soon after they've finally settled.
Today was no exception, we were very rushed at the end of each class, although at last I'm beginning to see the groundwork of the last several weeks come together. We finally have the foundation of a common language for talking about free verse poetry that the students can apply both to what we are reading and to their own drafts. They are conversant in line breaks, sensory details, figurative language (simile, metaphor, and personification), the quality of the verbs and nouns, and basic punctuation choices. In addition, they are getting pretty good at discussing what meaning a poem has for them.
OK... I guess we are making some progress.
It seems like I'm still not doing a good job giving my students time to write, mostly because the poem and mini-lesson are taking too much time at the front end of class. It's not as though they could sustain more than 15-20 minutes of solid writing anyway, but the transitions continue to be a little rough, and it seems that the bell rings too soon after they've finally settled.
Today was no exception, we were very rushed at the end of each class, although at last I'm beginning to see the groundwork of the last several weeks come together. We finally have the foundation of a common language for talking about free verse poetry that the students can apply both to what we are reading and to their own drafts. They are conversant in line breaks, sensory details, figurative language (simile, metaphor, and personification), the quality of the verbs and nouns, and basic punctuation choices. In addition, they are getting pretty good at discussing what meaning a poem has for them.
OK... I guess we are making some progress.
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