getting there

On Friday I sat in the middle of our Writing Workshop with tears in my eyes.

I've mentioned before that my class this year is one of the most difficult (for a multitude of reasons) that I've had in thirteen years of teaching. There were moments not five weeks ago that I would sit and look at some of the chaos in front of me and think, Will we get there?

I have such faith in children, such a deep respect for them as important people, yet I don't always share the same faith in myself. I pretty regularly have doubts about my ability to manage that or organize this or develop curriculum for that...

The great thing? People around me do have that faith in me. Any time I was silently going over something that hadn't gone well, someone at school would have something positive to say -- something they'd seen me do, or important thinking they heard one of my students doing, or a kind, real act of compassion one of my students showed. I think that really helped keep refilling my reserve level of strength and faith in myself that I could help our class move forward, develop into the community I know we can become.

My friends, I really stepped back today and saw them. It was a beautiful moment, to be able to sit back and watch these children, purposeful and diligent (for the most part), getting to this work of writing.

One boy finally finished his book about interesting coins -- along with a table of contents that is barely readable to anyone other than a first grade teacher, but gloriously exhibits his own style.

Another girl put aside a story that was just not interesting anymore to try some humor. She always makes us laugh and decided to try her hand at that in writing today.

Benicio, who couldn't hear a lot of sounds in the beginning of the year and never left spaces between words, wrote a three page story about Halloween with spaces, many high frequency words spelled correctly, and punctuation.

So, yeah. If I ever had any doubt about the fact that we'd get there... I don't anymore. I certainly know that it's not going to be all wine and roses, but I see it now. I get it. We're well on our way.

And that's a beautiful thing. ♥

organizing books...

I found this great idea on another teacher's blog here. This preschool teacher found a way to display books in a way that made it easy for her to see what was missing, but also empowered the children to put books away independently.

It was rather perfect timing to have found that this week, because I was just thinking about a way to reorganize the book display shelf in our class library. We were trying to put too many books on the shelf, I think, and the 'puzzle' aspect of it was not letting the kids be successful.

So, one morning I pulled all the books off and rearranged them -- grouping books if possible -- and then typed up the titles and taped them to display.

Here is how it looks:





It was exactly what my students needed. First of all, they know that the book will go back into the space from which they got it, so putting it away won't be hard. Also, they get to match letters and words, which six year olds just love. I also see them showing this sense of satisfaction when the books are put away and it looks neat and attractive -- they seem more proud of our library area these days.

I really love learning new and clever ideas from other teachers. We have such a wealth of knowledge to share with one another, don't we?

I can read that...

Benicio has been learning English for slightly more than a year. He is completely dedicated to learning and takes everything I say very literally, obviously trying to put it into practice with his own learning. He is, quite honestly, amazing. The progress that he's made in the past ten weeks is remarkable.

Yesterday in the library, our librarian was reading Duck at the Door aloud to my class. She turned to one of the pages that was mostly an illustration, and in the center of the page were a few words in a regular size font and then "Duck" in larger letters.

I heard Benicio whisper, sort of in awe of himself, "I can read that!"

And then he did: "Duck."

I can scarcely imagine what he'll be doing by the end of the year. I sort of can't wait to find out... ♥

frog stickers and inspiration

See the picture?

No, it's not an audition for hand-modeling, though the pose strikes me as a bit odd now that I look at it. (Look, ma, I've almost quit biting my nails!)

You probably can't help but notice that strange little sticker, yes? Well, it's there for a reason. Several years ago, I had this glorious imp of a little girl in my class. She was loud, energetic, full of love, completely desirous of friendship, and rather exhausting. As the months passed, I noticed that my normally overflowing reserve of patience was often tapped with her by the end of the day.

One night, I remember thinking really deeply about her, wondering what it was that tried my patience so. Every thought made me realize that it was not her intention, nor was it her fault. Yes, I'm blessed with a greater than average dose of patience, but she wasn't setting out daily to whittle it away.

That night, I started remembering little stories of her: snippets and images, her voice and her smile. By the time I went to bed, I had her fully on my mind and I couldn't stop smiling, thinking about her absolute glee about school and learning and me, her teacher.

I woke up on a mission. I knew it. I knew all these little, glorious things about her and by the end of the day, my patience was so thin that I wasn't remembering them. I realized that I needed a way to remember the bits of her that warmed my heart, so I could also support the parts of her that helped tire me out.

That's where the sticker idea came from. Putting a sticker on my hand was essentially tying a string around my finger. Every time I saw it, I thought of this little girl and all of the details that made her amazing. Now, I talk with my hands (more so than most humans in the world, probably), so you can imagine how often I saw that sticker during the day.

It was exactly right.

I spent the day remembering all of her, so that even during the moments that would have tired me out, I was able to hold onto her very essence and help reframe it -- for her and myself.

As for the visibility to her and other kids... well, I collect frogs, so when students saw the little frog sticker on my hand, they commented, but thought little of it. I just said it was there to help me remember something.

And remember it I did.

I honestly can't say where the sticker idea came from -- but that's often a theme in some of the greatest moments of teacher-inspiration, isn't it? A momentary brainstorm that ends up being just right.

So, there you have it. When I need to remember something, when I'm trying to break a habit, or start a new one, that's what I do. I stick a frog sticker on the fleshy part of my right hand and go about the day.

I'm sharing it here because, well, I love hearing about the little things that people invent to achieve a goal. Perhaps this will catch on and sweep the world! Maybe in a few months we'll see world leaders wearing frog stickers on their hands in the middle of important peace summits... maybe we'll see Wall Street execs wearing frog stickers during important financial meetings.

Maybe I should buy stock in frog stickers.

real writing, real kids...

I want to thank my good friend and former (*sniff*) colleague Ms. Swamp for pointing out this book about Barack Obama: Barack Obama: Son of Promise, Child of Hope by Nikki Grimes. I think I'm going to stop by the bookstore on my way to dance class today to see if I can pick up a copy for my class.

Ms. Swamp -- or "Swampy" as I like to call her -- shared a book that her class wrote together about Barack Obama. My class will probably write a book in the future as well. Currently, during our Writing Workshop, many students are writing about the election, the candidates, or about going to vote with their family.

I thought I'd share some of their writing:

This is the cover of one little girl's book.


This little boy is writing about Obama and McCain. We talked about the speeches after the election was decided and how both of them used some of the traits that we talk about at our school (from the Reponsive Classroom's CARES).They used cooperation and assertion, responsibility ...


This little boy's book reads like a letter. When he's done, I sort of want to send it to Obama... Barack Obama, you're a nice person and you are friendly.

Barack Obama, you are a nice person and you are smart.



I'll try to upload some more another day. I am just truly blown away by the sheer need some of these children have to write what's going on for them. It's rather inspiring. ♥

a trail less travelled...

Yesterday on a long walk throught the back trails of our neighborhood, my husband and I walked up a steep embankment and came to a road.

We looked at each other for a moment, not knowing exactly where we were. It took a minute, looking around at the landmarks, until I realized that we were standing on the side of a relatively major road in our neighborhood.

As soon as I figured it out, we both sort of laughed and nodded, realizing that it couldn't be anything but that particular road, based on where we were and the relationship of everything around us.

The point I took from that experience is this: I came upon something so completely familiar -- a road I travel on every day -- and yet it took me a few moments to recognize it when I approached it from a different direction.

What an important lesson to remember in teaching. How often are my students approaching something from a different perspective, a unique one that is not my own, and seeing it in a way that I might not see? Similarly -- and I think good teachers do this well -- there is a profound importance to anticipate various ways children might be approaching new or familiar learning.

How often do I 1) recognize when this is happening (remembering that it might be happening at any time) and 2) give them the time and direction they might need to make a learning connection on their own, rather than make it for them? Hopefully the answer is a large one.

For example, if I know that Benicio can read the predictable words on our Morning Message and I know that some of those words will be in the new book I'll be giving him during Guided Reading, I should recognize that he might be at a similar precipice and give him the tools to figure out that the word in front of him is one he knows, rather than do it for him.

He certainly has the tools to do it himself. :)

leaves...

Several weeks ago, our first grade classes took a field trip to a local county park, a nature center with a pond and a stream and a fantastic trail for walking. During our nature walk, my students took great pleasure in kicking the fallen leaves up as they walked, crunching them underfoot, and just generally making a lot of noise with the leaves.

Today my husband and I went for a long walk through the trail in our neighborhood and beyond. It was a gorgeous, sunny day and the leaves were in full glory all along and across the trail. It was a great walk. Also, I discovered something. I am about twenty-nine years older than my students, and apparently...

Crunching and kicking and making a great deal of noise with fallen leaves just doesn't ever lose it's appeal. :)

Yardsticks

The eagerness, curiosity, imagination, drive and enthusiasm of the six year old is perhaps never again matched in quantity or intensity during the life span.

~Chip Wood, Yardsticks


I don't know how many of you are familiar with this book, but I highly recommend it. I've owned it for probably ten years; my copy is tattered and falling apart and I really ought to invest in a new copy one day. Every time I pick it up I find something new.

This book details every age level from 4 - 14, and looks at the typical behavior/development in four areas: Physical, Language, Social, and Cognitive. It also looks at curriculum connections and discusses some things you probably *shouldn't* do with that particular age level. It's only about 8 pages per age level, but full of insight. Truly.

I love to share it with families throughout the year to let them see what an interesting age their children are at.

The quote I led off with above? Oh yes. Six year olds are incredible in the way they are pulling everything in and trying to make sense of everything around them. Every age level has its own unique and amazing characteristics, and I love that different people find such pleasure in different age levels. Imagine if every teacher liked only nine year olds? Where would the other age levels be?

I was thinking about some of my students this week and how uniquely six they are and it reminded me of this book. I'll try to recommend some of my other favorites over the next months.

Have a lovely night. ♥

Languages...

How awesome is that, huh? Eleven different languages spoken in the homes of my students.

The world is an amazing place.

organization struggles

In my quest for organization, we reorganized the tools in the writing area. It's always amazing to me the vast differences between each class of children. Some classes have a natural sort of ability to keep areas of the classroom clean and organized and some classes need specific, detailed, clear instructions. Sometimes it's only one or two children that need the support.

Well, this year's class needs as much routine and structure as I can possibly give them, so...

Our Writing Tools!

Some notes: the pencil sharpener is only open in the morning and at the end of the day, otherwise the noise is completely distracting. We also have two class jobs for children to be the one that sharpens the pencils. You can see two cans in the back of the station for sharp pencils and ones the need to be sharpened. It's a system I developed a few years ago and works well, so I keep it going.

You'll notice that the paper clip and sticky note containers are empty for the moment. This is deliberate. First, we haven't put those tools out yet. Secondly, it allows us to make a big deal when we are ready to put the tools out because the kids have seen the empty containers for a little while already.

Anyway, I think I might take some pictures of different areas over the next week or so and document them here. I find that I am, without a doubt, an organized person living in a disorganized person's body, so it's a near daily struggle for me to keep things in the right place. Creating classroom organization that works is a fun challenge for me, and definitely something I wish I was better at in my personal life.

How about you all? How do you deal with organization? Are there systems that you use that you find particularly helpful or that you're proud of?

election results...

Something tells me that I'm going to remember the conversations I have with my students this week for a long, long time. ♥



*pumps fist in the air and dances in glee*

Election...

So, it's 10:10 pm on Election Night. Today has been quite a mix of thoughts and emotions today. Tomorrow, when my students come into the classroom, we will (most likely) have a new president-elect. I'm going to have to figure out how to be as unbiased as I can, even though I feel quite strongly about the candidate that I want to be our next president.

This brought to mind an email conversation that I had with the family member of one of my students several weeks ago. This family member wanted to be very sure that I was not allowing the message that [a candidate] was not a good person to be discussed in the classroom. The family member then went on to explain that his family was in full support of this candidate and his running mate, would support him in all endeavors and hoped that I would do the same.

To which I responded:
Thank you so much for bringing both of these issues to my attention. In regards to the upcoming election, all of the students in my class have been completely fascinated by it. Part of the reason, I know, is because it is something that is very important to a lot of their families and it is a lot of the conversation they hear and are part of nowadays.

As for my own take on the election, when children ask who I am voting for, I tell them that for some people, it's a private choice or a personal opinion.

As a teacher, I'm very aware of the power my words have with the children and I would not want to sway children or make them feel bad if they found out their choice was the same or different than my own, or set up a sort of hierarchy in the class with those that vote one way vs. those that vote the other.

The election will be a part of our upcoming learning; the children will hear about both candidates, and both in positive terms.

Sari did mention to me at the very end of the day on Friday that two of the children had said something about [the candidate] being a bad man and I intervened right away. In our conversations, I have made it clear to all children that the amazing thing about having the right to vote in our country is that everyone gets to make their own decisions. In upcoming conversations, I will be just as clear that, just like we would never tolerate name calling within our classroom, we will not tolerate it related to the election and the candidates involved.

So, I have more to say in relation to this. Partly because I wonder if the family member would have been as concerned that the opposing candidate was given the same treatment in the classroom (I'll assume they would have), but also because in telling me this, my dual/precarious role as teacher came into full view again.

I am constantly aware of the power of my words. I can wound with a simple statement or word or look, and I can influence my children both intentionally and unknowingly.

This also brought up for me an examination of the things that I choose to be as deliberately unbiased as I can (ie, the election), versus ways in which I'm quite sure I'm letting my own views come through (recycling, the way we speak to each other).

I wonder -- and this is a question to teachers, friends, and parents alike -- how do you make choices about where you will let your biases show through and where to work to even them out?

homeless walk...

I love this image with a very large piece of my heart. On Friday our school did a walk to help the homeless. It was sponsored, so every student who walked received a t-shirt. On the way to our school-wide Morning Meeting, I was a bit overwhelmed at the beauty in front of me, so I told the children to pause so I could take their picture.

The photograph I took of their faces is even more stunning, but you'll just have to come visit me in person to see that one...

Aren't they beautiful? ♥

Non verbal communication...

In the classroom, I use a lot of non-verbal communication. Part of this comes from being an educator of young children, who, no matter how interesting I am, just don't hear every word I say. Another important element, I find, is that there are times that I need to communicate with children when I'm not sitting right next to them, and a visual cue is very helpful.

This is a much longer point that I really need to come back to in another post, because I think it is incredibly interesting in the fabric of the classroom.

The reason I mention it, though, is that all of this non-verbal communication becomes a habit. I've had families tell me that at home their child will make the "me, too" sign when they have a connection, or accompany something with a sign from the classroom that they are used to.

They're not the only ones.

It spills over completely into my own life. My husband always learns and knows a lot of the nonverbal signals because I use them in my non-school life, when we're talking or hanging out with other people. I think after so many years of being with me, he doesn't notice it as much anymore. Nonverbal communication just becomes the 'norm' in many areas of my life that I don't think about it.

Of course, when I use it with someone that doesn't know me that well yet, I forget that it's not necessarily what they're used to seeing.

Over the summer, I was taking a Boot Camp class with some other teachers from my school. One Wednesday afternoon, we were about 35 minutes into it and had just done something exhausting. I collapsed to the mat after finishing and looked at our trainer, "Water?" I asked, not realizing that I'd also done the water sign in sign language (make a W with three fingers and tap your forefinger against your chin).

He said, "Okay, guys, get some water, then jog a slow lap."

Then he turned to me and said with an amused smile at me, "Did you just sign at me?"

I said, "I have no idea -- what did I do?"

He showed me an attempt at the sign and I smiled, too. "Yeah, I must have. That's the sign for water. We use it in the classroom all the time."

He said, "I don't think I've ever had anyone sign at me in all my years doing this."

"Well, you're in a school now; you're bound to learn something."

I think it was about then that he threw one of the exercise balls at me and told me to go get water...

But it did really make me think of some of the sign language or hand signals that I use and how unconscious they have really become.

What sorts of unconscious things do you all find blend their way into your lives?

thinking ahead...

What I've been thinking a lot about recently is the need to really sit next to my students as they're working, to observe and watch them, to see what's going on without automatically jumping in and talking to them about it.

Case in point: Yesterday, Eva was working to solve this problem:

Four children are going to paint a wall. They will paint ¼ red, ¼ blue, ¼ yellow, and ¼ green.
Show how the wall might look.

[NOTE: there was a rectangle drawn below the problem.]

She'd already solved the previous problem (painting the wall half red & half blue) correctly and was working on this one quite dilligently. She had a blue colored pencil and had colored in about one fifth of the rectangle (vertically) and was looking at it thoughtfully.

Then, she looked around and saw that some other children were sectioning off their rectangles using pencils, so she took a pencil and looked back at the rectangle. After a moment or two, she started drawing lines to make different sections.

At about that moment, one of the other students needed my attention, so I called them over and spoke to them about their work, then turned back to watch Eva.

"Miz F," she said, her eyebrows wrinkling, "if I make another line there, it will be five."

"Show me what you mean," I said.

She showed me how she'd drawn another two lines to divide the rectangle into four parts with a larger space left over. So, if she drew another one (so they were all equidistant and had equal spaces), there would be five sections of the wall instead of four.

"It's too much spaces," she said.

"I wonder if you could make the blue area bigger -- would that help?"

"I'll see," she said.

Eva then proceeded to extend the blue section, draw two more lines to make four equal sections, then colored them in.

When she was done, she grinned at me and pointed to her work. "I have four equal parts," she said proudly.

The reason this has been on my mind for the past day is simply this: I have to make the time to listen to the children as they're working. I have to keep my own mouth shut more often and let their own thinking be the guide.

The thing is, Eva has a tough time learning. She has a lot stacked against her in life right now, and it's pretty easy for her to get frustrated. This time, though, she didn't get frustrated. She didn't just attack the problem, she thought ahead to what needed to happen next and realized that it wasn't going to be correct. Sure, she used a push from me to get back on track, but who is to say that she wouldn't have found that push on her own?

And you know what? Now we get to think back on that moment. We get to use Eva as a model for thinking ahead when you're working (and not just in math!) and thinking critically to make sure that you're solving the problem that you're trying to solve.

Pretty powerful as far as I'm concerned.

This blog post is in response to my amazing mother-in-law, who called us this evening in a thinly veiled attempt to nag me about my commitment to blogging every day this month.




A real post to come later tonight...

I voted...

Every one of my students voted today. Every one. It was really amazing to watch their pride as they left the voting booth with shining smiles.

Two of my students leave the classroom on Wednesday morning to read with a volunteer for about twenty five minutes, and when his Reading Buddy joined our class in line on the way to the voting, Antonio looked at me in a panic, "But I need to vote!" he said.

"Oh, you will," I told him. "You get to be one of the first."


At the end of the vote, we all lined up to head back to our classroom and every student stuck an I voted sticker on their shirt. I wish you could have seen them walking proudly down the hallway back to our classroom. Some of them even strutted.

And here, here is what struck me the most today: I have a little boy in my class that has been having a rough time over the past couple of weeks. We had a meeting this afternoon with his family, and invited the little boy in at the end to talk about how we were going to support him.

At the end of the talk, as things were winding down, this little boy turned to his father, unzipped his jacket and showed his sticker. "Look, Daddy," he said, "I voted today."

In spite of everything going on for him (and believe me, there is a lot), he knew that voting mattered, that it was important.

On Tuesday? I'm going to be him. I'm going to wear my sticker proudly and say the very same thing.

I voted.

NaBloPoMo

So, for several years of my adult life, I've considered myself a writer. Not a Writer, as A. A. Milne might say, but I identify myself as one who writes. I write, therefore I am a writer.

For several years now, I've felt writing become a deep part of my life. I write in many different ways: email, letters to families, fannish pursuits, reflection, to get something off my chest. I just... write.

It's amazing to think how much I use writing as a tool for reflection and expression, when I didn't even think that I could write until I was nearly twenty-two. (More on that another day.)

There is so much that I write, though, that never makes it into the open. Well, naturally. It's only in the past few years that blogging (or myspace, livejournal, facebook, and etc...) has become a quite normal and regular pasttime for many people. How would I have made my writing 'public' five years ago? I think what I mean is this: so much of what I write is just jumbles of words and bits of ideas... inchoate thoughts, if you will, that form in my head and need to find their way out, lest I forget them. For all intents and purposes, this is a public blog. No, I don't share names or personal details about myself, students, or family, but this blog is available to anyone that happens to click their way here.

So, there is a level of accountability that I feel. I want what I say here to be something I stand behind, even if it's a simple thought I had one morning over coffee. With that self-imposed accountability, I think I become somewhat reluctant to put something here -- here in my blog -- that doesn't feel finished.

Why is that?

I have conversations with friends, with family, with other teachers, and not everything I say is fully finished or even an eloquent pronouncement on the topic at hand. (*gasp* It's not??)

But writing, public writing, has an element of permanence to it. I write, therefore I am. I put it on my blog, therefore I must be willing to stand behind it. Because of that, though, there are a lot of things that I don't put here that would probably be of interest to those of you that read. I know that some of you are friends of mine, some are family members, others are colleagues or teachers, and there may even be some of you that I don't yet know. (If so, comment and introduce yourself! I love meeting new people!) Why do I feel reluctant to put out things that are unfinished? Is it because of the unknown?

Anyway, I'm musing on this tonight because November is coming up. November is NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. I have grand dreams of one day participating in this, but it will never be when I am a classroom teacher. Sadly, November is just too full, and I am far too slow of a writer to be able to accomplish it, even at 1,800 words a day.

There is, however, NaBloPoMo, or National Blog Posting Month, which I am definitely considering. I might actually be able to accomplish 30 posts in 30 days, as long as I give myself permission to post things that aren't quite eloquent or even finished.



Writing is a habit I have, but blogging is not. What about it, friends? Shall I endeavor to make November a month of blogging? I'd really love to hear what you think. ♥

what's in a name?

Overheard in the classroom:

"It's not Baracko Bama. It's Barack. Obama."

planning ahead...

Someone once said to me that good teachers should be planned ahead two weeks at a time.

I'm not sure why that sticks in my head, but while I think I agree in theory, I'm not sure it actually makes sense to follow that to the letter.

Here's an example. In our school, the First Grade team has developed a set of Yearly Plans. Our Social Studies/Science plan is a bit more comprehensive than the Language Arts one, and really, they are all just works in progress. With Math, we've been following our Math curriculum (for some, Silver Burdett-Ginn. For me, Investigations), so the Math yearly plan was almost empty.

Well, this year, our school system has mandated that all teachers follow the Mathematics Pacing Guide that they've created, which pulls Standards of Learning from the State's website and blocks them out into the various quarters of the school year. (My objection to the way they've blocked some of them out, ie, focusing on counting only in the first quarter and no combining or separating, is a discussion for another time)

So, this year, I've been using the Investigations curriculum, but far less than I'm used to. With a focus on counting (by 1's, 2's, 5's, 10's), number recognition, and etc... I've been inventing a lot of the work that my students are doing [example here, though pictures are missing. :( ].

Yes, I'm planning 1-2 weeks in advance... but every week what I plan changes. I may say that I'm going to do a particular investigation into counting by 5's on a certain day, but it changes based on what I'm seeing the children do (both in what they are capable of and that with which they need more practice).

Isn't that the point, really? To plan ahead, but to tweak and change and throw out entirely lessons that are not appropriate, and instead work with the children where they are, not where I thought we'd be two weeks ago...

an uphill climb...

I sort of failed at keeping my blog in September, huh? So many times I sat to write about the schoolyear and wasn't able to find the words. I think, also, it keeps me from writing about a lot of the day to day moments, because I want to explain, in detail, about September and why I was so absent. Hopefully, this entry will make me feel a bit more settled. Once I feel like I've let it out, that I've let you all know, I can get back to the "small moments" blogging that I so deeply enjoy.

September tends to be a rather difficult time for finding a good balance between my work and home life. With the beginning of the school year comes the emotional adjustment of missing my former students and beginning to learn about new ones. It's forging new relationships with families (through Open House and Back to School Night and Family Conferences that we start during the second week of school), rebuilding Team relationships with my colleagues, and reconciling some of the "me" time that I had during the summer time with the sheer lack of it that I am able to create as the school year begins.

It's a time of great disequilibrium.

And well... this year I have that class.

The class that comes along every few years and challenges every teaching skill that I've developed. Several of my students came in (to first grade) already with a reputation. Everyone in the knows about them. At age six. It is really, really not okay to have such a reputation at age six.

This is the class that I will be despondent to let go of in June, even though I was despondent about being able to meet their needs during the first week of school. You see, in theory, this class should have two teachers, or a teacher and an Instructional Assistant, to best provide for the emotional and the academic needs of each of my twenty-four students. In reality, they get me.

A lot of this is due to budget cuts, some of it is due to other several other educational and classroom decisions that my administration was forced to make at the end of last school year. One of the things I've discovered is that we can be pretty good at putting together groups of children that will make up a well-balanced class (academically, behaviorally, and socially), but no matter how much we think about them, there are things that we are just not going to foresee. So far, many of them have happened in my classroom this year.

This is one of those years that did have me questioning the decision to keep teaching after this year. This is one of those years that had me wondering if I was actually capable of finding my confidence as a teacher again. I didn't get a full night's sleep until the third week of school; I didn't eat lunch until just last week. This has been a test of both will and determination that I haven't faced since my fifth year of teaching.

Somehow, though, I've been able to find my feet.

It's not the best situation for anyone, but I'm determined to make it work. I have twenty-four children, each of whom is deeply amazing in their own right. I have the energy of someone younger (thank goodness), the belief in children as the shining example of why the world is a wonderful place, and the support of so many friends and family members that believe in me, even when I'm not quite there myself. (thank you all ♥). I've also had the support of the administration, as well as several colleagues who are tireless cheerleaders for me. I really cannot thank them enough.

I feel so lucky to have had such a varied and rich teaching career so far. I've worked with some of the most talented educators on the planet, both in my tenure here as well as my time in Boston. I have a toolbox that is full to bursting of ways to support children in many different areas. I appreciate that, for some unknown reason, my mind is constantly inventing new ideas and new strategies to support children when something doesn't quite go right.

It's been a long, uphill, twenty-five days of school so far. We've taken several giant steps forward, and many other steps back. But, dammit, we're getting there. We're making it. We are slowly building a class of deeply caring and aware young people. We will continue to do so, little by little by little, until no one has a reputation in this school that isn't positive.

We're going to be that class, sure. But we're going to be that class that succeeds in the face of multiple adversities and still comes out shining brightly.

Because that's what we do in school. That's what we do in our class. We shine.

And how!

This week we have been doing a lot of counting. So much. In fact, I'm not exactly sure why my students haven't revolted, except that, well... counting is fun. Seriously. Counting up and counting back, counting all and counting on. Counting by fives and tens. All of it.

So, one of our activities this week was a counting inventory where the children had to count various things in the classroom -- the number of chairs, the number of scissors, the number of cubes in our toolboxes, the number of steps to the cafeteria, to the Counselor's office and etc...

The counting steps one was a big hit.

Before we even started, we talked a lot about the responsibility of doing one's work in the hallway: that other people are working so we'd need to be quiet, the need to walk and be safe, as well as to really concentrate so we wouldn't forget where we were counting.

I love when children show me just how much they do think about these things.

I had to leave for a quick meeting during our Math time, so a glorious colleague of mine was with the kids while I was gone. On my way back from my meeting I passed two of my students walking down the hallway, counting steps, totally entranced in their task, looking at me and waving and grinning, but getting right back to their work. About forty steps later, I passed another pair, doing the same thing and looking fully exhilerated.

After I turned the corner into the final corridor (yes, our classroom is that far away from everything else), I almost literally ran into another pair of students who were grinning at each other in triumph: "Miz F," they told me, "it's fifty whole steps to the Counselor's office!"

"Fifty?" I said. "That's a lot!"

"Yeah," Antonio said. "I didn't even know we could count that high!"


Yeah. Well I did. ♥

the little things...

I had a conference with the mother of one of my amazing students today.

She told me that he said this last week: "My teacher is young. And she is So Beautiful."

♥

So, I'm thinking... should that give him an automatically pass? Or maybe I should just keep him in first grade for the next few years to make me feel good... ;-)

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In other news, I know I've been very quiet on the blog front. It's been a really rough start to the schoolyear, and I'm slowly working on writing it up here to both describe and reflect on it. Hopefully it won't take another month to make that happen.

*much love to you all*

turns of phrase...

I've taken to use the expression, "oooh, shiny!" to describe my state of mind sometimes when I'm feeling distractable. I also use it to describe the easy way that young children can become derailed or distracted from something (both in positive and negative ways). I don't actually know from where I adopted this phrase, it's just sort of become part of my vernacular, and one that my copilot teases me about when I am acting that way.

Today, when Lamar was sharing items from his Artifact Bag (a get-to-know-you project), he took out a little silver medallion and Anisha actually said:

"Oooh! Shiny!"

It took all I had not to burst out laughing.

Guess the original phrase must have come from a first grader, huh?

NOTE: All names used on this blog are pseudonyms.

the beginning of the year...

It's easy to forget the difficulty of the beginning of the school year.

Some women have told me that they don't remember the pain of childbirth, otherwise they might not have gone through it again. For me, I think I don't always remember the toil of the early days of school. I don't always remember the almost inhuman patience needed to reinforce and redirect and remind. I forget my early mantra: "they're six, they're just six... they don't know this yet." I forget my own personal mantra, "you don't suck... you love this... you can do it..." I know about these things, sure, but I don't remember them.

I wonder if I did, would I be so eager and ready to start a new school year each time?

The beginning of the year creates such a disequilbrium because there is always so much new, even in the midst of the familiar.

Yesterday I said to one of my colleagues about my class, "They're going to be awesome, but they're not awesome yet."

When I think on it though, what I might mean is that I'm not awesome yet. I'm still finding what works for this class, for these kids, so that I can do right by them.

I hope I find it.