Working Harder, Not Smarter

After a shake-up in our central office department, we are teaching grammar and vocabulary in a new way this year. Adding new content to a curriculum requires a lot of work; whether or not you are provided with materials and resources, no one ever hands you anything that's ready to go. 

Earlier this week I was struggling to adapt slide decks, anchor charts, and practice exercises to my students and their academic needs, and coming up with an engaging and collaborative way to present the lesson and assignments was especially challenging. Perhaps I needn't have worried quite so much, because when I presented the three pages to them, several kids actually cheered, "Yay! A worksheet!"

I did not see that coming.

Well-trained

At the end of the day, Heidi and our principal were swapping stories about funny interactions they had had with kids lately. "I got one for you," the principal said. 

We are all familiar with her routine for signaling students to quiet down in assemblies. She does a call-and-response routine involving the initials of our school. She will say, "TJ!" and the students are supposed to answer, "MS!" She'll repeat it a few times until she has everyone's participation.

Today she was walking down the hallway when she spotted a 7th grade cutting up. She called his name, but he tried to get away from her by pretending not to hear and then joining a line of 8th graders on their way to the library. Not to be fooled, she called his name again louder and more firmly. "TJ!"

He still ignored her, but the 8th graders didn't. "MS?" they answered, confused.

Their response didn't even register with her as she focused in on the mischievous 7th grader. "TJ!" she said again.

"MS!" the 8th graders replied more loudly.

Then it hit her. "No," she laughed and pointed. "That TJ!"

The kids laughed too, and one of them pushed him out of line. "Go talk to her, man!" he instructed him, shaking his head.

Better than Meh

 I finally did it.

After decades of trying to figure out a way to make Back to School Night more fun and interactive for parents (and myself!), it occurred to me the other day that I could structure my presentation using the online quiz game I favor for my students. 

So yesterday afternoon I went through the slide presentation I would otherwise have used and turned every topic into a true-false or multiple-choice question. Then I created a QR code for the game sign-in and taped a copy to each table. As parents entered, I gave them the option to scan the code and play along. Once the game began, I paused after every question to clarify or add a little information, just as I do when kids play,

The format worked great! For example, the first question was True or false, this is Ms. S's first year at our school. After revealing the answer, I was able to give a little background on myself and, in my co-taught classes, allow my colleagues to do the same. 

Ten minutes later, we applauded the winners. I had given each parent a card to write questions on, and they all came back blank. The final question of the game had been a poll: How has BSN been so far? The options were Great! Good! Meh. and Needs improvement. Everyone was gracious enough to pick Great!

Best of all? Several kids told me today how much their parents enjoyed the class. And I didn't even give them Jolly Ranchers!

Feeling Senior

The phone was ringing in my classroom when I arrived yesterday morning. It was our facility director calling with some sad news: a young man we both knew, I as a former student and he as an employee of the community center attached to our school, had unexpectedly passed away. The director was at kind of a loss as to who to inform; the guy had been a student in my class 30 years ago, my first year of teaching, and we talked about who is still around who might remember him as a middle schooler.

Turns out, nobody but me. I have been in the building the second longest, one year behind my friend and colleague Laura, and one year ahead of Heidi, but neither of them knew him. I considered reaching out to the few of his former classmates I'm still in touch with, but decided against contacting them with sad news after it's been a while since I last reached out. 

Later in the day, a younger colleague stopped me to recount how her students had asked her if she was here, teaching, on September 11, 2001. "I was in 7th grade!" she informed them, and her comments were similar to those of another colleague earlier in the day who had been in 5th grade at the time.

"You were here, though, right?" she asked me, and I told her I was. She teaches social studies, and I could tell it was the historian in her who listened to my account of that day 22 years ago. To me, it was a memory of a time that seems both distant and not that long ago, but to her I was a primary source and witness to history.

Exceeding Expectations

Every so often, perhaps once a year or so, I get a tickle in my throat that won't be denied. When it happens? I absolutely have to cough, and often tears stream down my face, and I am rendered speechless for up to a minute. And when I can actually talk again, my voice is strangled and hoarse. It can definitely be alarming to witness.

For some reason, this only occurs when I am teaching, as it did today, and how the students react can be a litmus test. This time, we were in the middle of our opening routine, where students are posting and talking and guessing. I use the time to check in with each kid and to let them know that I see them, and we can have fun learning together. But today I had to use that time to tend to a coughing fit that neither water nor drops would abate. 

To their credit, the class waited quietly, allowing me to pull myself together, with a few expressions of concern, both genuine: Are you okay? and not: Are you dying?

Before the incident, I had set up a mostly student-led activity, and I bade them to continue, which they did. And here is where they really shined-- when left in charge of their own learning by a [seemingly] incapacitated teacher, they took the reins and carried on admirably.

And on the sixth class of the school year? I could not have asked for more.

Scratching her Head

Our cats get a monthly box of treats and toys in the mail. Sometimes we question whether we should continue the subscription, but they really seem to appreciate it, Tibby in particular: she's never met a cat toy, cat treat, cat structure, cat anything she didn't fully embrace. Heidi, too, enjoys opening the box each month. She likes discovering the theme and seeing what clever little items the curators have pulled together.

This month the motif was "Back to School" which was kind of bittersweet for us. Even so, Heidi examined each item with appreciation, a couple of catnip crayons and a little stuffed composition book. One thing had her stumped for a minute though. It was a rectangular purple crinkle mat printed in segments with colorful images of boiled eggs, baby carrots, mushrooms, and a salmon steak. "What do you think this is?" she asked.

I recognized it immediately. "A cafeteria tray," I laughed. "But I've never seen a school lunch that looked like that!"

Natural Solution

We had a few fruit flies around the kitchen, which wasn't surprising given the bounty of our garden lately. When I was at the garden center last week getting the supplies for my cactus pups, I noticed a cute little Venus flytrap on display. It was a bit expensive for a wee little thing in a tiny plastic pot full of sphagnum, but I've long wanted to own one, and the fruit fly situation gave me just the excuse I needed.

In just a day or two, the minor infestation was over, so when I had several lazy houseflies pestering me in my classroom last week? 

I was tempted to go in search of a bigger plant to take care of the problem. I've seen Little Shop of Horrors, though, and perhaps turning to carnivorous plants to address pests might be a bit of a slippery slope.