This has been a rough start to the school year. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but nearly everyone is walking around asking why we all feel worn out and exhausted like we do at the end of the school year. Good gracious, we've just started and we're dead tired.
Maybe it's the overload of paperwork that we have at the beginning of every year...and the fact that, for the 7th grade teachers at least, we're looking about about 30 more kids a year than we had last year. It doesn't seem like it would make that much difference but it does. (We have the same number of seventh grade students this year, but we're down to two teams...and overall, we went down 7 teachers). Maybe it's because we're still waiting to hear about our new standards and how the Very Big Deal Government Mandated Tests went and rumors out there indicate it wasn't very good (State-wide, I might add). And then there's the general student apathy which is nearly as bad as the parent apathy. Who knows? All I know is that it's been a rough start.
And then you find that little folded up piece of notebook paper on your desk.
Every year we send out an introductory post card to all our homeroom kids. Every year. The key is getting it done while you still can honestly say something good about the kids and haven't been around them long enough to really get truly annoyed. It's just one more thing we do at the beginning of the year, and considering I've never got one bit of feedback on these cards in the past, oh, six years, you sometimes wonder why in the hell we bother? I mean really...we're talking about parents who hang up on us.
So this is what I found, dropped on my desk by one of my homeroom kids, Very Nice Boy, on his way out the door the other day
"Dear Mrs. Bluebird,
Thank you for saying that about me and I have something to tell you. You are a great teacher that wants youre students to exceed and have fun at the same time. Also you are fun and kind and you are my favorite teacher of all time. Sincerely, Quiet Boy.
P.S. I really appreciate that what you said about me."
I wish I could remember what I said about him - probably something along the lines about what a nice kid he was (he really is) and how much I enjoy having him in class (I really do).
Notes like that make it a bit more tolerable...
Showing posts with label Heartwarmers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heartwarmers. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The Mystery Club
This year we had a new club on campus called TAG. None of us really seemed to know much about TAG except that one of the newer 8th grade teachers was the sponsor, and most of the members seemed to be 8th graders. A lot of us thought it might have to do with technology, others (like myself) thought it might have to do with business skills as these kids came up with some really innovative ways to make money. And others pretty much gave up trying to figure out the club because the kids were always really vague on what it was about and gave answers along the lines of "if we told you, we'd have to kill you."
But the kids were always out there working hard, raising money, and they seemed to enjoy it, so we figured it was a pretty good thing.
Last week we found out what the TAG club was all about. According to The Principal, a number of 8th grade students came to her this past fall about putting together a club. She gets kids all the time coming to her about clubs, and she tells them all pretty much the same thing - find a teacher to sponsor your club and she'll sign off on it. She told this group the same thing and they went off and she figured she would never see them again.
Except they found a sponsor. And a new club was born. And the name of the club? The Teacher Appreciation Group.
I kid you not.
This group of kids wanted to put together a club for the SOLE PURPOSE of raising money to throw a party for their teachers and staff at the end of the school year as a way of letting us all know how much they appreciated all we've done for them for the past three years. They wanted it to be a surprise, and didn't really want to reveal who all was in the club until the party.
You should have heard the response in the faculty meeting when The Principal told us about this club and told us that the party would be after school on Thursday. We were dumbfounded. Amazed. Flattered. And just plain astonished.
Who would have thought, in this day and age, that a group of kids would want to spend all year raising money just so they could throw a party for their teachers?
Amazing.
So we had the party today and it was astonishing. Hamburgers, hot dogs, BBQ chicken, sides, and acres of desserts. The kids had music playing, a massage chair set up (nice touch) and were offering to pour more punch, hand out another brownie, and to make sure none of us wanted for anything. They got up and expressed their thanks, talked about how much we meant to them, and just were awesome.
The best part? The kids in this group were not the popular kids, or the top academic kids, or the kids that really grab your attention. For the most part they were the middle of the road kids, the kids easily overlooked, the kids that didn't stand out for any particular reason. Many of the ones I had were kids who struggled in class, and honestly, had some rough times in seventh grade. But each and every one of them had an adult there who took him or her under his or her wing and, obviously, made a difference.
I've never been so proud of my kids. And so humbled.
But the kids were always out there working hard, raising money, and they seemed to enjoy it, so we figured it was a pretty good thing.
Last week we found out what the TAG club was all about. According to The Principal, a number of 8th grade students came to her this past fall about putting together a club. She gets kids all the time coming to her about clubs, and she tells them all pretty much the same thing - find a teacher to sponsor your club and she'll sign off on it. She told this group the same thing and they went off and she figured she would never see them again.
Except they found a sponsor. And a new club was born. And the name of the club? The Teacher Appreciation Group.
I kid you not.
This group of kids wanted to put together a club for the SOLE PURPOSE of raising money to throw a party for their teachers and staff at the end of the school year as a way of letting us all know how much they appreciated all we've done for them for the past three years. They wanted it to be a surprise, and didn't really want to reveal who all was in the club until the party.
You should have heard the response in the faculty meeting when The Principal told us about this club and told us that the party would be after school on Thursday. We were dumbfounded. Amazed. Flattered. And just plain astonished.
Who would have thought, in this day and age, that a group of kids would want to spend all year raising money just so they could throw a party for their teachers?
Amazing.
So we had the party today and it was astonishing. Hamburgers, hot dogs, BBQ chicken, sides, and acres of desserts. The kids had music playing, a massage chair set up (nice touch) and were offering to pour more punch, hand out another brownie, and to make sure none of us wanted for anything. They got up and expressed their thanks, talked about how much we meant to them, and just were awesome.
The best part? The kids in this group were not the popular kids, or the top academic kids, or the kids that really grab your attention. For the most part they were the middle of the road kids, the kids easily overlooked, the kids that didn't stand out for any particular reason. Many of the ones I had were kids who struggled in class, and honestly, had some rough times in seventh grade. But each and every one of them had an adult there who took him or her under his or her wing and, obviously, made a difference.
I've never been so proud of my kids. And so humbled.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Some Very Good Advice
Our eighth graders have been meeting with counselors from The High School down the road that they will be attending (we hope) next year, and from what some of my former cherubs tell me, it's been interesting. Fortunately I have a few from last year who can actually think about a future beyond lunch and are seriously considering what track they're going to take, what career they may want, and how they can afford college or trade school.
So I'm going over our new unit on force and motion, and giving the kids an introduction, when this nice young man comes to the door and waves at me.
It's one of my kids from my second year, Soccer Boy! Soccer Boy entered my classroom in as an ELL student. He was originally from Mexico, but his English (and his writing skills) were amazing. He was a fantastic science student, a great, sweet kid, and one of the nicest young men I've ever had the pleasure of teaching. He's also made a point of keeping in touch with me each and every year to know what he's doing. I appreciate that.
"Oh my gosh!" I yell as I give him a big hug. "What are you doing here today?"
"I'm here talking to the eighth graders about the AVID program," he says. He's as neat as a pin with dress pants, sweater vest, and a tie.
Meanwhile, my fourth period, a class of low achievers if there ever was one, is staring at him, mouths agape. Seniors in high school, to many of them, are like creatures from another planet.
I get my kids working on their unit and spend a few minutes catching up with Soccer Boy. He's been accepted to a small university in a nearby state, with a scholarship or two, and plans to major in Business Management, and then take his love of science and perhaps get into the medical field somehow, perhaps in pharmaceuticals, or something. He's still playing soccer, and will hopefully play in college. And he's still as nice and polite as he was when he was a twelve year old (and probably should have been a little stinker then but his parents did a great job with him).
He had to leave to go talk to some my eighth graders, but said he'd swing by before he left. He did, and fortunately chose another one of my lower classes to pop in.
"Hey, can I talk to them a minute?" he asks.
"Sure, why not?" I answer. He could read the phone book and they'd listen.
"Hey kids, do yourselves a favor. Listen to your teachers, take notes, study, and work hard. You're going to need it in high school and life. Trust me."
Their heads nod. They blink. Not a peep. Good gracious! They may actually have listened!
Another big hug, and off he went. The good thing is, I know he'll be successful. He'll be fine. And it's nice knowing I may have had a tiny bit of a part in that.
So I'm going over our new unit on force and motion, and giving the kids an introduction, when this nice young man comes to the door and waves at me.
It's one of my kids from my second year, Soccer Boy! Soccer Boy entered my classroom in as an ELL student. He was originally from Mexico, but his English (and his writing skills) were amazing. He was a fantastic science student, a great, sweet kid, and one of the nicest young men I've ever had the pleasure of teaching. He's also made a point of keeping in touch with me each and every year to know what he's doing. I appreciate that.
"Oh my gosh!" I yell as I give him a big hug. "What are you doing here today?"
"I'm here talking to the eighth graders about the AVID program," he says. He's as neat as a pin with dress pants, sweater vest, and a tie.
Meanwhile, my fourth period, a class of low achievers if there ever was one, is staring at him, mouths agape. Seniors in high school, to many of them, are like creatures from another planet.
I get my kids working on their unit and spend a few minutes catching up with Soccer Boy. He's been accepted to a small university in a nearby state, with a scholarship or two, and plans to major in Business Management, and then take his love of science and perhaps get into the medical field somehow, perhaps in pharmaceuticals, or something. He's still playing soccer, and will hopefully play in college. And he's still as nice and polite as he was when he was a twelve year old (and probably should have been a little stinker then but his parents did a great job with him).
He had to leave to go talk to some my eighth graders, but said he'd swing by before he left. He did, and fortunately chose another one of my lower classes to pop in.
"Hey, can I talk to them a minute?" he asks.
"Sure, why not?" I answer. He could read the phone book and they'd listen.
"Hey kids, do yourselves a favor. Listen to your teachers, take notes, study, and work hard. You're going to need it in high school and life. Trust me."
Their heads nod. They blink. Not a peep. Good gracious! They may actually have listened!
Another big hug, and off he went. The good thing is, I know he'll be successful. He'll be fine. And it's nice knowing I may have had a tiny bit of a part in that.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Howdy Ma'am
I get allergy shots every Wednesday afternoon. I actually don't mind it much. I go to the on-site clinic that is part of our health insurance program (for county and school district employees) located at the neighboring high school, get my shots, knit for twenty minutes, the nurse checks my arms and I'm off. No big deal. Sometimes I run into other teachers and folks I know, so that can be fun.
Or a bit weird.
I was sitting there yesterday, knitting away on a cardigan I'm making, when I sort of notice out of the corner of my eye a young man leave one of the examining rooms (they're busy with a lot of school sport physicals right now). I don't pay much attention until I hear, "Hey, Mrs. Bluebird."
I turned around and it's the young man, all six feet two inches of him, and his mom who I don't recognize. The kid looks familiar so I know he's one of mine but I can't for the life of me put a name to the face.
(As an aside, I have an awful time with the boys when they grow up - they looks SO DIFFERENT from when I have them in seventh grade.)
"Oh gosh, I know I know you but I can't put a name to your face," I tell him, a bit embarrassed.
His mom laughs. "Oh, he's changed a lot since seventh grade," she says.
"It's Goober Boy," he informs me.
Oh. My. God.
No Way! Goober boy was a long-haired, skater dude who had the motivation of a slug. Nice kid, but a goober. (He was one of my favorites out of a class of really unique individuals.)
What was standing before was, well, a cowboy. He had on the pointy-toed boots, skinny cowboy jeans, big huge western belt with a shiny buckle, a button down shirt, and was carrying a straw hat in his hand. With short hair!
I swear, I couldn't believe the difference in this kid!!! Talk about a 180 degree change. He actually sat down for about twenty minutes (Mom took off - Goober Boy is driving his own truck now) and chatted with me. We talked about some of his classmates, who's doing what, what he's up to (doing much better in school now) and what he's thinking of doing when he graduates. It was such a nice visit, and so surprising to see how different he was now that he's about five years older.
I never, in a million years, would have predicted this change! Cowboy, no less!
Or a bit weird.
I was sitting there yesterday, knitting away on a cardigan I'm making, when I sort of notice out of the corner of my eye a young man leave one of the examining rooms (they're busy with a lot of school sport physicals right now). I don't pay much attention until I hear, "Hey, Mrs. Bluebird."
I turned around and it's the young man, all six feet two inches of him, and his mom who I don't recognize. The kid looks familiar so I know he's one of mine but I can't for the life of me put a name to the face.
(As an aside, I have an awful time with the boys when they grow up - they looks SO DIFFERENT from when I have them in seventh grade.)
"Oh gosh, I know I know you but I can't put a name to your face," I tell him, a bit embarrassed.
His mom laughs. "Oh, he's changed a lot since seventh grade," she says.
"It's Goober Boy," he informs me.
Oh. My. God.
No Way! Goober boy was a long-haired, skater dude who had the motivation of a slug. Nice kid, but a goober. (He was one of my favorites out of a class of really unique individuals.)
What was standing before was, well, a cowboy. He had on the pointy-toed boots, skinny cowboy jeans, big huge western belt with a shiny buckle, a button down shirt, and was carrying a straw hat in his hand. With short hair!
I swear, I couldn't believe the difference in this kid!!! Talk about a 180 degree change. He actually sat down for about twenty minutes (Mom took off - Goober Boy is driving his own truck now) and chatted with me. We talked about some of his classmates, who's doing what, what he's up to (doing much better in school now) and what he's thinking of doing when he graduates. It was such a nice visit, and so surprising to see how different he was now that he's about five years older.
I never, in a million years, would have predicted this change! Cowboy, no less!
Friday, December 19, 2008
The Best Gifts...Ever!
I'm always just flattered and tickled to death when a student of mine presents me with a Christmas card or even a gift. A lot of my students have families where there's more month than money so the fact that they spent anything, even a dollar for some bubble bath at the Dollar Store, really touches my heart. I love the homemade cards (complete with misspellings - I'm supposed to have a "happy and heathy Christmas" this year), and the drawings of stout reindeer and flying cats (figure that one out) make my day. Even the coffee mugs (and we teachers have more coffee mugs than a Starbucks, don't we?) are appreciated.
However, every once in a while you get a gift from a student that really lets you know that they thought about it, carefully selected it, and it was definitely a gift that was intended for you and no one else.
Freckled Boy gave me one such gift this year. I love this kid. He's in my homeroom, and sits right in front of my teacher station. He's always the first kid in every morning, and he's made it his mission to take all the chairs down every day while at the same time engaging me in some of the most interesting conversations. He asked me this morning if I'd be here for a few minutes after the students were dismissed. Apparently his mother was bringing a few presents for him to hand out and he wanted to make sure I'd get mine. I assured him I'd be here, and then promptly forgot about the conversation with the craziness that is the half day before break.
After the buses rolled and the other kids were dismissed, I was walking back to my room and he came up with a shoebox-sized box wrapped in holiday paper.
"Merry Christmas Mrs. B!" he said as he handed me my gift and dashed off to deliver another one to Mrs. Language. (I found out later that he gave her a stapler!)
I went back to my room and unwrapped my package. First, I had to take off the outside paper. Then unroll lots and lots of tissue paper. And finally got to an object about 10 inches long that was also wrapped in paper. A giant pencil? A pen? What on earth?
It was a screwdriver.
Now this may not sound like the best gift ever but you have to kind of understand the back story here. Earlier this year my handy little screwdriver (both flat head and phillips head) was stolen from my pencil cup. I loved this screwdriver and used it all the time. It tightened the screws on the hole punches so they stayed in place. It allowed me to disassemble the hand crank pencil sharpener to remove the broken pieces of colored pencil that got stuck inside. It let me fix chairs and tables which are slowly falling apart on a regular basis. There probably wasn't a day that went by that I didn't use that thing. And it was stolen and that really ticked me off. We had a rash of thefts that week, and that was just icing on the cake.
Freckled Boy was actually standing in front of me when I discovered the missing screwdriver and he'd seen how often I'd used it. So he got me a new one. Granted this one is a lot bigger (I definitely won't be working on pencil sharpeners with this one!) but the fact that he took the time to think about what I really needed and then went out and got it, really made my day.
I totally love the little curly ribbons he tied on the top. I kept them on it when I put it in my pencil cup. It's an awesome screwdriver!
Just when I didn't think it could get any better, my team came trotting around the corner with sneaky grins on their faces and a big silver bag with shiny paper sticking out of the top. What on earth???
Inside? A big huge bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and two Bailey's glasses, and a great card thanking me for being a great team leader.
Ahhhhh. Made me want to cry. I've got a great, wonderful, fantastic team!
However, every once in a while you get a gift from a student that really lets you know that they thought about it, carefully selected it, and it was definitely a gift that was intended for you and no one else.
Freckled Boy gave me one such gift this year. I love this kid. He's in my homeroom, and sits right in front of my teacher station. He's always the first kid in every morning, and he's made it his mission to take all the chairs down every day while at the same time engaging me in some of the most interesting conversations. He asked me this morning if I'd be here for a few minutes after the students were dismissed. Apparently his mother was bringing a few presents for him to hand out and he wanted to make sure I'd get mine. I assured him I'd be here, and then promptly forgot about the conversation with the craziness that is the half day before break.
After the buses rolled and the other kids were dismissed, I was walking back to my room and he came up with a shoebox-sized box wrapped in holiday paper.
"Merry Christmas Mrs. B!" he said as he handed me my gift and dashed off to deliver another one to Mrs. Language. (I found out later that he gave her a stapler!)
I went back to my room and unwrapped my package. First, I had to take off the outside paper. Then unroll lots and lots of tissue paper. And finally got to an object about 10 inches long that was also wrapped in paper. A giant pencil? A pen? What on earth?
It was a screwdriver.
Now this may not sound like the best gift ever but you have to kind of understand the back story here. Earlier this year my handy little screwdriver (both flat head and phillips head) was stolen from my pencil cup. I loved this screwdriver and used it all the time. It tightened the screws on the hole punches so they stayed in place. It allowed me to disassemble the hand crank pencil sharpener to remove the broken pieces of colored pencil that got stuck inside. It let me fix chairs and tables which are slowly falling apart on a regular basis. There probably wasn't a day that went by that I didn't use that thing. And it was stolen and that really ticked me off. We had a rash of thefts that week, and that was just icing on the cake.
Freckled Boy was actually standing in front of me when I discovered the missing screwdriver and he'd seen how often I'd used it. So he got me a new one. Granted this one is a lot bigger (I definitely won't be working on pencil sharpeners with this one!) but the fact that he took the time to think about what I really needed and then went out and got it, really made my day.
I totally love the little curly ribbons he tied on the top. I kept them on it when I put it in my pencil cup. It's an awesome screwdriver!
Just when I didn't think it could get any better, my team came trotting around the corner with sneaky grins on their faces and a big silver bag with shiny paper sticking out of the top. What on earth???
Inside? A big huge bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and two Bailey's glasses, and a great card thanking me for being a great team leader.
Ahhhhh. Made me want to cry. I've got a great, wonderful, fantastic team!
Friday, November 14, 2008
It's All in the Fundamentals
Last night was the home opener for Middle School Basketball Season.
We played one of our cross town rivals. The school with the 8th grader who's 6'5" tall, an AB student, and an overall nice kid. He's supposedly better at baseball. Hard to believe. Of course, all he had to do all night was stand there and tip balls into the net, but still. He's the total package. Nice kid, good student, good athlete. He probably helps little old ladies with their groceries.
Coach Math, the new math teacher on The Team, is our new boys basketball coach this year. This is an added bonus. We were tickled to death to get a really good, highly thought of math teacher, but the fact that he coaches, well, that was just icing on the cake. Finding a good coach, one who can motivate the kids (and stand dealing with them for a lot more hours than most of us do), is not easy to do. The pay isn't all that great, and it makes for some really long days.
The rest of us on the team decided to make sure we all attended the game so we could support Coach Math. We also got him a card, wishing him luck with the season. He's had a bit of an adjustment coming to The School. He used to teach across town, at a school where most kids had both parents, both parents had jobs, and kids did their homework and excelled. He's used to a school where an F on a progress report means a parent phone call or email. Now he's with us, and he's figuring out that the parents of our students are, for the most part, missing in action. We sent home progress reports last week and not one of us on the team got so much as a phone call or an email. Nothing. It's a big adjustment when you're used to a lot more parental support and some higher achievers.
But if anyone can make it work, it's Coach Math.
We asked him this week at lunch what he thought of his team. "Well," he said, "they really need work on fundamentals. They play too much street ball. We may win some, we may lose some, but they'll know the real game when we're done."
It was a different team than we've ever seen play before. We're used to the kids playing street ball, with a collection of hotshots and a couple of kids who make the hotshots look even better. The hotshot kids always bothered me. For the most part they tended to be punks who only did well academically during the season, and let their true colors shine once the season was over when they did stupid stuff to get suspended and who knows what else. They had what I call the "PacMan Jones Disease" - people made excuses for their bad behavior because they were good athletes and the kids believed the were God's gift to basketball.
Coach Math put a stop to that. A kid couldn't even try out for the team if the first nine week report card wasn't satisfactory. That eliminated a bunch of the kids who thought they were superstars but weren't cutting it academically. It also eliminated a bunch of the troublemakers who caused problems for coaches in the past. Coach Math wasn't putting up with thuggish behavior. Two days after the team was announced, one of his players got a write up and was sent to ISS. Coach kicked him off the team. That really sent a message.
So what he ended up with was a team with no hot shot superstars, but some nice kids and some decent kids when it came to the grades. Nothing to write home about, but the raw talent was there.
The raw talent produced. They played team ball. They passed, they dribbled, they took their time, they listened to directions from the coach, they worked as a team. And, even with the Six Foot Wunderkid on the opposing team, they hung in there and the game was a close one all the way until the final buzzer.
When it was tied and went into overtime.
And for the first time in my six years at The School, the students who were there attending the game (who usually spend the games gossiping, socializing, and ingesting copious quantities of junk food and soda) were on their feet cheering and screaming and going crazy. All of the teachers in attendance looked at each other in awe. "Do you see that?" we all asked. "They've never done that before!" It was a sight to see.
And the overtime seemed to stretch forever with one team scoring and then the other, and back down the court, and another basket, and then we got fouled, and the toss was nothing but net and we, amazingly, astoundingly, won the game!
We cheered. We screamed. The boys looked stunned. Then they all jumped on each other and screamed and yelled and Coach was giving them high-fives and it was like Christmas and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.
Coach Math made those kids believe in themselves and worked some magic.
And it was just the first game.
We played one of our cross town rivals. The school with the 8th grader who's 6'5" tall, an AB student, and an overall nice kid. He's supposedly better at baseball. Hard to believe. Of course, all he had to do all night was stand there and tip balls into the net, but still. He's the total package. Nice kid, good student, good athlete. He probably helps little old ladies with their groceries.
Coach Math, the new math teacher on The Team, is our new boys basketball coach this year. This is an added bonus. We were tickled to death to get a really good, highly thought of math teacher, but the fact that he coaches, well, that was just icing on the cake. Finding a good coach, one who can motivate the kids (and stand dealing with them for a lot more hours than most of us do), is not easy to do. The pay isn't all that great, and it makes for some really long days.
The rest of us on the team decided to make sure we all attended the game so we could support Coach Math. We also got him a card, wishing him luck with the season. He's had a bit of an adjustment coming to The School. He used to teach across town, at a school where most kids had both parents, both parents had jobs, and kids did their homework and excelled. He's used to a school where an F on a progress report means a parent phone call or email. Now he's with us, and he's figuring out that the parents of our students are, for the most part, missing in action. We sent home progress reports last week and not one of us on the team got so much as a phone call or an email. Nothing. It's a big adjustment when you're used to a lot more parental support and some higher achievers.
But if anyone can make it work, it's Coach Math.
We asked him this week at lunch what he thought of his team. "Well," he said, "they really need work on fundamentals. They play too much street ball. We may win some, we may lose some, but they'll know the real game when we're done."
It was a different team than we've ever seen play before. We're used to the kids playing street ball, with a collection of hotshots and a couple of kids who make the hotshots look even better. The hotshot kids always bothered me. For the most part they tended to be punks who only did well academically during the season, and let their true colors shine once the season was over when they did stupid stuff to get suspended and who knows what else. They had what I call the "PacMan Jones Disease" - people made excuses for their bad behavior because they were good athletes and the kids believed the were God's gift to basketball.
Coach Math put a stop to that. A kid couldn't even try out for the team if the first nine week report card wasn't satisfactory. That eliminated a bunch of the kids who thought they were superstars but weren't cutting it academically. It also eliminated a bunch of the troublemakers who caused problems for coaches in the past. Coach Math wasn't putting up with thuggish behavior. Two days after the team was announced, one of his players got a write up and was sent to ISS. Coach kicked him off the team. That really sent a message.
So what he ended up with was a team with no hot shot superstars, but some nice kids and some decent kids when it came to the grades. Nothing to write home about, but the raw talent was there.
The raw talent produced. They played team ball. They passed, they dribbled, they took their time, they listened to directions from the coach, they worked as a team. And, even with the Six Foot Wunderkid on the opposing team, they hung in there and the game was a close one all the way until the final buzzer.
When it was tied and went into overtime.
And for the first time in my six years at The School, the students who were there attending the game (who usually spend the games gossiping, socializing, and ingesting copious quantities of junk food and soda) were on their feet cheering and screaming and going crazy. All of the teachers in attendance looked at each other in awe. "Do you see that?" we all asked. "They've never done that before!" It was a sight to see.
And the overtime seemed to stretch forever with one team scoring and then the other, and back down the court, and another basket, and then we got fouled, and the toss was nothing but net and we, amazingly, astoundingly, won the game!
We cheered. We screamed. The boys looked stunned. Then they all jumped on each other and screamed and yelled and Coach was giving them high-fives and it was like Christmas and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.
Coach Math made those kids believe in themselves and worked some magic.
And it was just the first game.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
The Pinball Wizard
Teachers can spot the kids that are going to be a challenge within seconds of them entering our classroom. It's like radar. Sometimes it's really obvious (swinging from the light fixtures is often a big clue) and sometimes it's something as subtle as how they make eye contact.
With Pinball Boy's case, it was the fact that he appeared to be physically incapable of sitting still for more than five seconds and his mouth was in constant motion. I've only had one other kid this hyperactive, and he was a kid who'd come out of a meth house in a neighboring county and had more issues than ADHD to deal with.
When I got the information sheet back from his parents, I noticed several things. One, he'd failed math and science last year. Not good. That means he has to pass these subjects this year in order to be academically promoted. Second, he was diagnosed with ADHD. And third, he was not on any medications. On the positive side, he had two parents in the home, they appeared to have jobs, and even had email. That's good.
On Monday, our newly minted teacher Miss Language, had a rough day with Pinball Boy. He'd pulled an attitude on her when she told him to get out his punch card as he couldn't sit down and be quiet (we're working on a reward system using punch cards - I'll explain in another post one of these days). She came to me asking for advice on what to do with him.
I decided to do some research, so I pulled his discipline file (no surprise there that he had one), and his academic records. One thing I discovered is that he has the potential to do well academically. His problem, obviously, is that he can't focus. The other thing I discovered was that he had 245 (!!!!) discipline points last year, was in alternative school for 30 days, came back, and was expelled in April.
Wow.
However, I wanted a bigger picture so I went to talk with the Guidance Goddess because she knows everything. I discovered that biological dad was remarried and living in another city, biological mom was remarried and there was a step dad at home. I also discovered that he was the oldest of five boys, all one right after the other - there's one in 6th grade, one in 5th, another in 4th, and the littlest is in 3rd. Mom has a fairly good job managing a local restaurant, but that also means long hours. And if all the boys are anything like Pinball Boy, they're probably pinging off the walls competing for attention.
What this kid needed was a lot of attention, and some strategies to help him focus. He needed "Mommy Time."
So, he got moved, on Tuesday, to the seat right next to my teacher station - my "right hand man" seat. Since he's in my homeroom class and the isolation seats are full, (not because kids need it, but because I'm out of lab tables) Pinball Boy didn't see this as a negative. He was thrilled to become my "right hand man". (I might add that he's kind of small, has braces, a huge smile, and glasses which he often forgets.) He is now in charge of my light switches which need to go on and off during the class as I'm using the document reader or my LCD projector. He is the first to get asked to hand out things and to collect things. Anything to give him a chance to get up and move a little bit.
And then I gave him the squishy ball. I asked him what he wanted to do this year and he said he wanted to pass all his classes and stay out of trouble. I told him that I knew he really was a good kid, and that I wanted to really help him with that so I was going to try some tricks that may seem a little strange - like holding a squishy ball in his hands and squeezing it during class to help him focus. He said he'd try it.
It worked like a charm. This child, who'd had write up after write up after write up for disruptive behavior, was my model student last week. He'd come in, ask for "Squishy", and sit at his seat and fiddle with the ball, but at the same time, he'd take notes, he'd jump up and turn the lights on and off when asked, and he was quiet. It was amazing. I see this group of kids three times a day - homeroom, 3rd period science class, and for fifteen minutes at the end of the day to check agendas, announcements, hand out papers, and all that. Every time he came into the room, he asked for Squishy and sat down and did what needed to be done.
On Thursday I called and left a message on his mom's voice mail, primarily to introduce myself, but also to brag on what a great job he was doing. I wanted her to know that I knew he had issues but I was going to see what I could do to work around them.
On Friday, as the kids were being dismissed to the buses, Pinball Boy ran back and gave me a big hug.
"My momma said you called and it scared me at first, " he said, "But then she said it was a good call and I've never had a good call before."
"Well kiddo, you earned it," I told him.
"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" he beamed. "I love you!" he said and then he was gone.
Dang. It don't get much better than that.
With Pinball Boy's case, it was the fact that he appeared to be physically incapable of sitting still for more than five seconds and his mouth was in constant motion. I've only had one other kid this hyperactive, and he was a kid who'd come out of a meth house in a neighboring county and had more issues than ADHD to deal with.
When I got the information sheet back from his parents, I noticed several things. One, he'd failed math and science last year. Not good. That means he has to pass these subjects this year in order to be academically promoted. Second, he was diagnosed with ADHD. And third, he was not on any medications. On the positive side, he had two parents in the home, they appeared to have jobs, and even had email. That's good.
On Monday, our newly minted teacher Miss Language, had a rough day with Pinball Boy. He'd pulled an attitude on her when she told him to get out his punch card as he couldn't sit down and be quiet (we're working on a reward system using punch cards - I'll explain in another post one of these days). She came to me asking for advice on what to do with him.
I decided to do some research, so I pulled his discipline file (no surprise there that he had one), and his academic records. One thing I discovered is that he has the potential to do well academically. His problem, obviously, is that he can't focus. The other thing I discovered was that he had 245 (!!!!) discipline points last year, was in alternative school for 30 days, came back, and was expelled in April.
Wow.
However, I wanted a bigger picture so I went to talk with the Guidance Goddess because she knows everything. I discovered that biological dad was remarried and living in another city, biological mom was remarried and there was a step dad at home. I also discovered that he was the oldest of five boys, all one right after the other - there's one in 6th grade, one in 5th, another in 4th, and the littlest is in 3rd. Mom has a fairly good job managing a local restaurant, but that also means long hours. And if all the boys are anything like Pinball Boy, they're probably pinging off the walls competing for attention.
What this kid needed was a lot of attention, and some strategies to help him focus. He needed "Mommy Time."
So, he got moved, on Tuesday, to the seat right next to my teacher station - my "right hand man" seat. Since he's in my homeroom class and the isolation seats are full, (not because kids need it, but because I'm out of lab tables) Pinball Boy didn't see this as a negative. He was thrilled to become my "right hand man". (I might add that he's kind of small, has braces, a huge smile, and glasses which he often forgets.) He is now in charge of my light switches which need to go on and off during the class as I'm using the document reader or my LCD projector. He is the first to get asked to hand out things and to collect things. Anything to give him a chance to get up and move a little bit.
And then I gave him the squishy ball. I asked him what he wanted to do this year and he said he wanted to pass all his classes and stay out of trouble. I told him that I knew he really was a good kid, and that I wanted to really help him with that so I was going to try some tricks that may seem a little strange - like holding a squishy ball in his hands and squeezing it during class to help him focus. He said he'd try it.
It worked like a charm. This child, who'd had write up after write up after write up for disruptive behavior, was my model student last week. He'd come in, ask for "Squishy", and sit at his seat and fiddle with the ball, but at the same time, he'd take notes, he'd jump up and turn the lights on and off when asked, and he was quiet. It was amazing. I see this group of kids three times a day - homeroom, 3rd period science class, and for fifteen minutes at the end of the day to check agendas, announcements, hand out papers, and all that. Every time he came into the room, he asked for Squishy and sat down and did what needed to be done.
On Thursday I called and left a message on his mom's voice mail, primarily to introduce myself, but also to brag on what a great job he was doing. I wanted her to know that I knew he had issues but I was going to see what I could do to work around them.
On Friday, as the kids were being dismissed to the buses, Pinball Boy ran back and gave me a big hug.
"My momma said you called and it scared me at first, " he said, "But then she said it was a good call and I've never had a good call before."
"Well kiddo, you earned it," I told him.
"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" he beamed. "I love you!" he said and then he was gone.
Dang. It don't get much better than that.
Monday, March 17, 2008
The Best Gift Ever
Today one of my students, Frail Girl, presented me with a fantastic gift. A gift that only a teacher can truly love and appreciate. A gift that just warms a teacher's heart.
She gave me a 48 count box of brand new, bright yellow, Dixon Ticonderoga pencils!
I about swooned.
For long time readers of this blog, I've had a few rants about the absolute crap pencils that are made and sold these days. Quite honestly, the best pencils out there, by far, are the Dixon Ticonderoga pencils. They rock. They sharpen properly. They work wonderfully. They are a sure way to win my heart.
When I asked Frail Girl what prompted this fantastic gift, her response was priceless..."I get tired of people asking you for pencils all the time and they never give them back."
Bless her little heart.
I am so ready for the Very Big Deal State Mandated Tests next month. I have 48 Dixon Ticonderogas to get me through them.
And lots of wine at home.
She gave me a 48 count box of brand new, bright yellow, Dixon Ticonderoga pencils!
I about swooned.
For long time readers of this blog, I've had a few rants about the absolute crap pencils that are made and sold these days. Quite honestly, the best pencils out there, by far, are the Dixon Ticonderoga pencils. They rock. They sharpen properly. They work wonderfully. They are a sure way to win my heart.
When I asked Frail Girl what prompted this fantastic gift, her response was priceless..."I get tired of people asking you for pencils all the time and they never give them back."
Bless her little heart.
I am so ready for the Very Big Deal State Mandated Tests next month. I have 48 Dixon Ticonderogas to get me through them.
And lots of wine at home.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Gifts for Angels, Hot Cocoa, and Horns!
It's actually been, amazingly, a pretty good week. Perhaps it was because the kids, for whatever reason, lost their minds last week. When The Principal tells you that it's been the sort of week where she wanted to toss her purse up on her arm and walk out the building, you know it's a bad week. In between the 13 eighth grade girls who got busted with slam books (the contents of which were described as "disgusting beyond belief"), the bipolar student who threatened suicide and attempted to run away, and the chaos of the holidays and basketball season, it was a doozy. Which is why this week, which was oddly calm, was so nice.
A few weeks ago my third period (which is also my advisory class), decided that they wanted to adopt one of our angel families. Angel families are the families that we help out at the holidays with Christmas gifts and food; they all have at least one member of the family that attends our school. Every year the student council, various clubs, the PTO, the faculty and staff, local churches and other groups put together Christmas for well over 100 families. It is quite an undertaking, but the amount of good that it does for the community is beyond measure. In any case, I was talking up the canned food drive when some of the kids said they wanted to bring in cans but they really wanted to have a family to shop for. We had a pretty serious discussion about commitment, (I wasn't going to get stuck holding the bag, in other words), and they voted and decided they really wanted to do it.
To say I was impressed with these kids is an understatement.
I went to guidance and got our family, which had three boys, ages 7, 10 and 14. We knew their first names, sizes, and wishes. I sent out a letter to the parents to let them know what the kids were doing, and stressing that even a single dollar would be welcome. (I had noticed that at least two of my students in that class were actually members of Angel Families themselves.) The toys, clothes, and gift cards began to arrive and this week we spent two days wrapping them all up. I couldn't believe it! We had over 30 packages for our family! It was amazing! The kids, who can't wrap much better than I can, had a blast, and we all trooped over to guidance to deliver our packages. It was nice to hear the kids' conversations this week as they talked about buying presents for other people, and not just conversations about what they wanted. We had a fun discussion on how good it feels to do something for other people, and many of them agreed that they tended to be a bit selfish. They did good.
We had pizza and a movie for the Military Support Group this week where, in addition to pizza, we offered a shoulder to one girl whose boyfriend had broken up with her that day. I loved seeing these kids, who all have a parent deployed, rally around her and help boost her up and get over the sobbing. Halfway through the afternoon she was giggling, eating pizza, and playing with a Rubik's cube. Mamma's Girl was there, and was beaming as she'd heard from mom earlier that week. Another girl got a wake up call that morning and it was her Daddy who she hadn't heard from in three months. She said it was the best day ever and the pizza was just icing on the cake!
The Christmas Store was open again this year although it may be the last year. Our very active PTO mothers are moving on to High School this next fall and there doesn't appear to be any go-getters to fill their shoes. Stocking the Christmas Store is a lot of work and requires a lot of manpower (to go to the clearance sales and buy the stuff at dirt low prices, wrap it up so it looks nice, and to man the store), plus storage. It's such a great thing for the kids, however, and many of them would come up to me with a dollar in their hand and ask permission to go to the Christmas store. Talk about empowering.
Today was a half day which can be hell on earth. It was, however, the nicest day before break we've ever had. For one, we had a lot of kids absent. I think because Christmas is during the beginning of the week, rather than the end, that many people headed out of town early. Usually we have a few absent, but today we had a lot. I think maybe ten kids showed up in my homeroom (then again, I have one suspended, one in alternative school, and one in the hospital).
After a locker clean out, the annual student/teacher volleyball game was held and I had volunteered to watch the kids who didn't get to go (admission is two canned food items for the canned food drive). I had color pages, suduko puzzles, and crosswords ready to go. They came in, sat down, colored, listened to Christmas music and were so well-behaved (surprising considering some of the characters that were there) that I was able to get all their tests graded from the day before (and they did well!)
Earlier in the week we had the kids sign up for what they wanted to do during the half day - they had a choice of game room, or three movies. The kids fixed a plate of food (many had brought in bags of chips and cookies) and went to their assigned room. They did great. They were well behaved, didn't spill anything, and weren't running around being pills. I had bought hot chocolate mix the other night (on sale for a dollar!) and made some using the microwave in my room (we had some team money to use up or lose so we bought a frig and microwave; it's in my room so we can use the excuse that I need it for science labs). The kids loved the hot chocolate and sat and watched Shrek 2 (they sang along to the songs and actually recited all the dialog which was a bit cute and freaky at the same time).
Then at the magic hour, 10:45, the bus riders were dismissed and those of us who had walkers in our rooms headed out to wave the buses goodbye. Waving the buses goodbye takes place two times a year - before Christmas break and the last day of school. It is one of my favorite traditions, and we got to introduce it to our new teachers this year. Mrs. Language loved it - she had never seen anything like it. It really is something...as the buses start to roll out (pretty impressive anyway, considering how many roll by), the drivers lay on the horns and the kids wave at those of us along the sidewalk who are waving back at them and yelling! It's a great way to end the first semester.
And now...two weeks of rest and relaxation!
A few weeks ago my third period (which is also my advisory class), decided that they wanted to adopt one of our angel families. Angel families are the families that we help out at the holidays with Christmas gifts and food; they all have at least one member of the family that attends our school. Every year the student council, various clubs, the PTO, the faculty and staff, local churches and other groups put together Christmas for well over 100 families. It is quite an undertaking, but the amount of good that it does for the community is beyond measure. In any case, I was talking up the canned food drive when some of the kids said they wanted to bring in cans but they really wanted to have a family to shop for. We had a pretty serious discussion about commitment, (I wasn't going to get stuck holding the bag, in other words), and they voted and decided they really wanted to do it.
To say I was impressed with these kids is an understatement.
I went to guidance and got our family, which had three boys, ages 7, 10 and 14. We knew their first names, sizes, and wishes. I sent out a letter to the parents to let them know what the kids were doing, and stressing that even a single dollar would be welcome. (I had noticed that at least two of my students in that class were actually members of Angel Families themselves.) The toys, clothes, and gift cards began to arrive and this week we spent two days wrapping them all up. I couldn't believe it! We had over 30 packages for our family! It was amazing! The kids, who can't wrap much better than I can, had a blast, and we all trooped over to guidance to deliver our packages. It was nice to hear the kids' conversations this week as they talked about buying presents for other people, and not just conversations about what they wanted. We had a fun discussion on how good it feels to do something for other people, and many of them agreed that they tended to be a bit selfish. They did good.
We had pizza and a movie for the Military Support Group this week where, in addition to pizza, we offered a shoulder to one girl whose boyfriend had broken up with her that day. I loved seeing these kids, who all have a parent deployed, rally around her and help boost her up and get over the sobbing. Halfway through the afternoon she was giggling, eating pizza, and playing with a Rubik's cube. Mamma's Girl was there, and was beaming as she'd heard from mom earlier that week. Another girl got a wake up call that morning and it was her Daddy who she hadn't heard from in three months. She said it was the best day ever and the pizza was just icing on the cake!
The Christmas Store was open again this year although it may be the last year. Our very active PTO mothers are moving on to High School this next fall and there doesn't appear to be any go-getters to fill their shoes. Stocking the Christmas Store is a lot of work and requires a lot of manpower (to go to the clearance sales and buy the stuff at dirt low prices, wrap it up so it looks nice, and to man the store), plus storage. It's such a great thing for the kids, however, and many of them would come up to me with a dollar in their hand and ask permission to go to the Christmas store. Talk about empowering.
Today was a half day which can be hell on earth. It was, however, the nicest day before break we've ever had. For one, we had a lot of kids absent. I think because Christmas is during the beginning of the week, rather than the end, that many people headed out of town early. Usually we have a few absent, but today we had a lot. I think maybe ten kids showed up in my homeroom (then again, I have one suspended, one in alternative school, and one in the hospital).
After a locker clean out, the annual student/teacher volleyball game was held and I had volunteered to watch the kids who didn't get to go (admission is two canned food items for the canned food drive). I had color pages, suduko puzzles, and crosswords ready to go. They came in, sat down, colored, listened to Christmas music and were so well-behaved (surprising considering some of the characters that were there) that I was able to get all their tests graded from the day before (and they did well!)
Earlier in the week we had the kids sign up for what they wanted to do during the half day - they had a choice of game room, or three movies. The kids fixed a plate of food (many had brought in bags of chips and cookies) and went to their assigned room. They did great. They were well behaved, didn't spill anything, and weren't running around being pills. I had bought hot chocolate mix the other night (on sale for a dollar!) and made some using the microwave in my room (we had some team money to use up or lose so we bought a frig and microwave; it's in my room so we can use the excuse that I need it for science labs). The kids loved the hot chocolate and sat and watched Shrek 2 (they sang along to the songs and actually recited all the dialog which was a bit cute and freaky at the same time).
Then at the magic hour, 10:45, the bus riders were dismissed and those of us who had walkers in our rooms headed out to wave the buses goodbye. Waving the buses goodbye takes place two times a year - before Christmas break and the last day of school. It is one of my favorite traditions, and we got to introduce it to our new teachers this year. Mrs. Language loved it - she had never seen anything like it. It really is something...as the buses start to roll out (pretty impressive anyway, considering how many roll by), the drivers lay on the horns and the kids wave at those of us along the sidewalk who are waving back at them and yelling! It's a great way to end the first semester.
And now...two weeks of rest and relaxation!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
A Very Quiet Surprise
The worst part about having a student teacher in the room is that I miss my kids. I'm not there every period to find out what's going on with their lives, to listen to them chatter, to just be there and enjoy the silliness (and oftentimes frustration) that comes with your average seventh grader.
I am getting a bit of a kid fix by working the discipline referrals. Often times these kids just want someone to listen to their side of the story (which is sometimes highly amusing and creative). The fact that they have your undivided attention is not lost on these kids. The sixth graders, in particular, will spill their guts and go on and on and on their lives, inside and outside of school. The counseling part I truly enjoy. Sadly, there are some teachers in The Building who aren't particularly patient and who write referrals for things that I'd never even consider writing a referral for, so a lot of what I've done is counsel and warn the kids not to do it again. (I'm sure I'm going to hear about it too, but hey, In School Suspension is full and detention isn't far behind..what's a girl to do? Toss them under a bus?)
Yesterday, our "Friday" since we have the rest of the week off for the Thanksgiving Holiday, I was out in the hallway by my room when they dismissed kids for the buses. Truth be told, I kind of just wanted to wish a lot of them a nice few days off from school.
I was standing there when Studious Girl walked up to me and give me a big hug and put her head on my shoulder. This surprised me a great deal because Studious Girl has maybe said all of a dozen words all year and is one of the most silent kids I've ever known. She's in my homeroom, and although she's a pretty good student, it's because she works so hard at it. She doesn't talk - to anyone - and if she has any friends, I couldn't tell you who they are. I always make a point of trying to draw her out in the mornings when she comes into homeroom, by asking her how her morning is, but the most I usually get is a smile.
And today I got a hug.
"What's this for?" I asked her, although I suspected I knew. A lot of my kids have been whining about "when are you coming back?". They like Mr. T, but they want "School Mom" back in the room.
Studious Girl just looked up at me and smiled.
"Is it because you miss me?" I asked her and she nodded her head and smiled again.
"Well I miss you too," I told her, "and I'll be back soon."
She beamed, hugged me again, grabbed her bookbag and headed for the buses.
Wow. Not a word, but volumes were in that smile and her big brown eyes.
Good Lord, I'm thankful for kids like her. It makes it worth it.
I am getting a bit of a kid fix by working the discipline referrals. Often times these kids just want someone to listen to their side of the story (which is sometimes highly amusing and creative). The fact that they have your undivided attention is not lost on these kids. The sixth graders, in particular, will spill their guts and go on and on and on their lives, inside and outside of school. The counseling part I truly enjoy. Sadly, there are some teachers in The Building who aren't particularly patient and who write referrals for things that I'd never even consider writing a referral for, so a lot of what I've done is counsel and warn the kids not to do it again. (I'm sure I'm going to hear about it too, but hey, In School Suspension is full and detention isn't far behind..what's a girl to do? Toss them under a bus?)
Yesterday, our "Friday" since we have the rest of the week off for the Thanksgiving Holiday, I was out in the hallway by my room when they dismissed kids for the buses. Truth be told, I kind of just wanted to wish a lot of them a nice few days off from school.
I was standing there when Studious Girl walked up to me and give me a big hug and put her head on my shoulder. This surprised me a great deal because Studious Girl has maybe said all of a dozen words all year and is one of the most silent kids I've ever known. She's in my homeroom, and although she's a pretty good student, it's because she works so hard at it. She doesn't talk - to anyone - and if she has any friends, I couldn't tell you who they are. I always make a point of trying to draw her out in the mornings when she comes into homeroom, by asking her how her morning is, but the most I usually get is a smile.
And today I got a hug.
"What's this for?" I asked her, although I suspected I knew. A lot of my kids have been whining about "when are you coming back?". They like Mr. T, but they want "School Mom" back in the room.
Studious Girl just looked up at me and smiled.
"Is it because you miss me?" I asked her and she nodded her head and smiled again.
"Well I miss you too," I told her, "and I'll be back soon."
She beamed, hugged me again, grabbed her bookbag and headed for the buses.
Wow. Not a word, but volumes were in that smile and her big brown eyes.
Good Lord, I'm thankful for kids like her. It makes it worth it.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Baking Cookies for a Cause
A few months ago, when we saw that we would, yet again, have a huge number of our students with a deployed parent, the Guidance Goober asked for volunteer teachers to help run a Military Support Group. The idea was to give these kids an after school activity where they could be with other kids who were going through the same sort of thing, give them some fun things to do, and also provide a safe place to vent their fears and frustrations.
So of course Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Language and I signed up to help.
We had our first club meeting on Wednesday. It was a rainy, windy, and dreary day, but a perfect day to bake cookies. We thought it would be fun to bake Christmas cookies for the parents and also for the military unit that has adopted our school. We made gingerbread cookies and sugar cookies, and Mrs. Language brought her box of 100 different cookie cutters. I never realized that there was such a thing as a box of a 100 cookie cutters...which shows you how often I bake.
We had a pretty varied group of kids. We had quite a few sixth graders, plus some seventh graders, and one eighth grader who is also autistic. Our roster will probably expand a bit once we get the bus transportation set up with the transportation department and the kids don't have to be picked up after the club meeting.
One of the seventh graders was Too Kool, a kid who thinks he's too cool for school and who just doesn't want to do anything unless it's his idea. He was on our team originally, but was removed due to conflicts with some other kids on the team. In any case, he definitely didn't want to be there and sat away from the other kids, with his back turned. He decided that making cookies was "lame".
Fifteen minutes later after realizing that (a) there was no one in the room whom he needed to impress with his coolness and (b) that the other kids were having fun while he was sulking, he decided to join in. By the end of the afternoon he was cutting out cookies, cleaning up the pans, and putting on frosting decorations. He smiled, and giggled, and acted like a normal kid (and not a thug) for once.
The kids had a ball. They worked as a team to mix up the gingerbread cookie dough, they made beautiful art with mini M&M's, sprinkles and frosting and they didn't whine and beg to eat most of the cookies. They were awesome.
The best part of the whole afternoon for me was when one of the little sixth grade girls, after decorating a heart-shaped cookie, looked up at me and said, "Wow! I just realized that I've had fun for five whole minutes and forgot that Mom was in Iraq." She beamed.
Just giving those kids a moment of relief and peace is worth its weight in gold.
So of course Mrs. Eagle, Mrs. Language and I signed up to help.
We had our first club meeting on Wednesday. It was a rainy, windy, and dreary day, but a perfect day to bake cookies. We thought it would be fun to bake Christmas cookies for the parents and also for the military unit that has adopted our school. We made gingerbread cookies and sugar cookies, and Mrs. Language brought her box of 100 different cookie cutters. I never realized that there was such a thing as a box of a 100 cookie cutters...which shows you how often I bake.
We had a pretty varied group of kids. We had quite a few sixth graders, plus some seventh graders, and one eighth grader who is also autistic. Our roster will probably expand a bit once we get the bus transportation set up with the transportation department and the kids don't have to be picked up after the club meeting.
One of the seventh graders was Too Kool, a kid who thinks he's too cool for school and who just doesn't want to do anything unless it's his idea. He was on our team originally, but was removed due to conflicts with some other kids on the team. In any case, he definitely didn't want to be there and sat away from the other kids, with his back turned. He decided that making cookies was "lame".
Fifteen minutes later after realizing that (a) there was no one in the room whom he needed to impress with his coolness and (b) that the other kids were having fun while he was sulking, he decided to join in. By the end of the afternoon he was cutting out cookies, cleaning up the pans, and putting on frosting decorations. He smiled, and giggled, and acted like a normal kid (and not a thug) for once.
The kids had a ball. They worked as a team to mix up the gingerbread cookie dough, they made beautiful art with mini M&M's, sprinkles and frosting and they didn't whine and beg to eat most of the cookies. They were awesome.
The best part of the whole afternoon for me was when one of the little sixth grade girls, after decorating a heart-shaped cookie, looked up at me and said, "Wow! I just realized that I've had fun for five whole minutes and forgot that Mom was in Iraq." She beamed.
Just giving those kids a moment of relief and peace is worth its weight in gold.
Friday, November 09, 2007
They also serve
I teach in a military town, so Veteran's Day is a big deal here. Many members of the community are veterans (many come here to retire), and we always have a big Veteran's Day parade downtown. The School also has a ceremony every year to mark the occasion.
And we do it up right.
The band plays patriotic medleys. The chorus sings some wonderful patriotic songs and our music teacher sings the National Anthem (she's amazing). We have the school winner of the Veteran's Day essay contest read his or her essay, we have some honored guests from our local military post, and we have a veteran guest speaker. One of our own teachers, also a veteran, acts as emcee because when he retires he better go into preachin', he's that good. Talk about motivational. We also honor all the faculty and staff (and there's quite a few including Mrs. Eagle, Mr. Enforcer, and Mr. Social Studies) who are veterans.
This year, however, we added a little twist. Those of us on the committee wanted all the students who currently have a parent deployed to have a bit of recognition as well. They all got American flags when they got to sixth period, and they brought them to the ceremony.
First, we had faculty and staff who had a child or spouse deployed stand up to be recognized. Again, quite a few. The kids screamed and cheered.
Then Mrs. Numbers, the sixth grade math teacher who puts this together every year, asked the kids if they knew why they got flags. "Because my Dad is in Afghanistan!" came one voice, followed by "My mom is in Iraq!", and pretty soon a chorus of "Mine too!" followed . And then, her voice breaking, she had the kids with the flags, the ones who currently have a parent serving overseas, stand up and wave their flags. Approximately 200 kids stood up and many of us who teach this kids got a tear in our eye.
And the place erupted into clapping and cheering and stamping and hollering as their classmates acknowledged that these kids, in their own way, serve as well.
Because it sucks to be a middle schooler in the first place. But to be a middle schooler, with the added weight of having a parent serving overseas, and missing them and worrying about them, sucks even more.
And I was so proud of both groups of kids - my stoic little military "brats", and their classmates who showed they cared. It was the perfect way to end the week.
To all my veteran readers out there - thank you.
And we do it up right.
The band plays patriotic medleys. The chorus sings some wonderful patriotic songs and our music teacher sings the National Anthem (she's amazing). We have the school winner of the Veteran's Day essay contest read his or her essay, we have some honored guests from our local military post, and we have a veteran guest speaker. One of our own teachers, also a veteran, acts as emcee because when he retires he better go into preachin', he's that good. Talk about motivational. We also honor all the faculty and staff (and there's quite a few including Mrs. Eagle, Mr. Enforcer, and Mr. Social Studies) who are veterans.
This year, however, we added a little twist. Those of us on the committee wanted all the students who currently have a parent deployed to have a bit of recognition as well. They all got American flags when they got to sixth period, and they brought them to the ceremony.
First, we had faculty and staff who had a child or spouse deployed stand up to be recognized. Again, quite a few. The kids screamed and cheered.
Then Mrs. Numbers, the sixth grade math teacher who puts this together every year, asked the kids if they knew why they got flags. "Because my Dad is in Afghanistan!" came one voice, followed by "My mom is in Iraq!", and pretty soon a chorus of "Mine too!" followed . And then, her voice breaking, she had the kids with the flags, the ones who currently have a parent serving overseas, stand up and wave their flags. Approximately 200 kids stood up and many of us who teach this kids got a tear in our eye.
And the place erupted into clapping and cheering and stamping and hollering as their classmates acknowledged that these kids, in their own way, serve as well.
Because it sucks to be a middle schooler in the first place. But to be a middle schooler, with the added weight of having a parent serving overseas, and missing them and worrying about them, sucks even more.
And I was so proud of both groups of kids - my stoic little military "brats", and their classmates who showed they cared. It was the perfect way to end the week.
To all my veteran readers out there - thank you.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
It's My Party, I'll Buy Cookies if I Want to!
Our big fall festival is tomorrow, with the traditional Medieval theme, so we've been doing fun Medieval history stuff with our third period class, which happens to also be our Skills Class. (Skills Class is a 25 minute block of time, where we work with these kids on checking agendas, organizing binders, and character education stuff.) One of the things we did was to make a class banner or coat of arms.
Since I've taught a class on heraldry at summer camp, I pulled my collection of books out (with lots of gorgeous pictures) and using my document reader showed the kids different patterns and designs. They decided they wanted to do one in school colors (red, white, blue) and make a pinwheel design. It was also decided that each of the seven lab groups would come up with symbols that represented their group and we'd put a symbol on each of the eight pinwheels. There was an extra pinwheel and they insisted that since it was my class, I needed to do a symbol too (I did an apple). We also thought it would be neat to make the symbols out of craft foam (which I bought for them) so it would have a neat 3-D look. We also got smart and printed off graphics of some of the designs (like my apple because I can't draw) and used those as templates.
The kids spent quite a bit of time on this, discussing their symbols, choosing the colors, making the pinwheel part of the banner. They worked great together and really got into the spirit of the thing. Even my severely ADHD kid, Scrawny Boy, worked diligently and was a huge reason the shield got done in time as he was one of the kids who worked on the pinwheel (which seemed to have been the most difficult part). The kids took the choice of their symbols very seriously, discussing and coming to agreements over what they wanted. We had one that was had a basketball hoop, a softball and a gymnast, for my table of athletic girls. We had a dragon for the table that has the kids that are into fantasy and comics. Another table chose a stylized cross (these kids loved hearing about the Crusades) and a heart. It was just so cool to see them work on this so hard.
And we were so sure we would win the prize for the best banner. The kids were pumped! Being a science teacher, I have all sorts of weird odds and ends in my cupboards, so we found some things to add to the banner. We added some silvery cloth to drape over the top, and a bit of cord (made out of kite string), and hung it up along with an explanation about how we arrived at the design and what it meant.
We didn't win.
There was a tie between two other seventh grade classes (Mrs. Reading and Mrs. Robin). When the kids came to their lockers they were downcast and disappointed. They had worked so hard and weren't going to get the donut party the winners were going to get. I felt so bad for them because they really put their hearts into this. Every kid participated, every kid put forth a lot of themselves in choosing their symbols, and I had never been as proud of them as I was this past week. What I saw in my room is what we want to see when kids cooperate and come up with a creative solution to a problem. It was magic.
So, I was at Sam's Club this afternoon, picking up a prescription, and I saw these plastic boxes of cookies just sitting there. And I thought, "you know what, these kids deserve a party even if they didn't win."
So I bought two boxes of cookies and we're going to have our own reward party tomorrow, just because they deserve it and because they are such great kids!
Since I've taught a class on heraldry at summer camp, I pulled my collection of books out (with lots of gorgeous pictures) and using my document reader showed the kids different patterns and designs. They decided they wanted to do one in school colors (red, white, blue) and make a pinwheel design. It was also decided that each of the seven lab groups would come up with symbols that represented their group and we'd put a symbol on each of the eight pinwheels. There was an extra pinwheel and they insisted that since it was my class, I needed to do a symbol too (I did an apple). We also thought it would be neat to make the symbols out of craft foam (which I bought for them) so it would have a neat 3-D look. We also got smart and printed off graphics of some of the designs (like my apple because I can't draw) and used those as templates.
The kids spent quite a bit of time on this, discussing their symbols, choosing the colors, making the pinwheel part of the banner. They worked great together and really got into the spirit of the thing. Even my severely ADHD kid, Scrawny Boy, worked diligently and was a huge reason the shield got done in time as he was one of the kids who worked on the pinwheel (which seemed to have been the most difficult part). The kids took the choice of their symbols very seriously, discussing and coming to agreements over what they wanted. We had one that was had a basketball hoop, a softball and a gymnast, for my table of athletic girls. We had a dragon for the table that has the kids that are into fantasy and comics. Another table chose a stylized cross (these kids loved hearing about the Crusades) and a heart. It was just so cool to see them work on this so hard.
And we were so sure we would win the prize for the best banner. The kids were pumped! Being a science teacher, I have all sorts of weird odds and ends in my cupboards, so we found some things to add to the banner. We added some silvery cloth to drape over the top, and a bit of cord (made out of kite string), and hung it up along with an explanation about how we arrived at the design and what it meant.
We didn't win.
There was a tie between two other seventh grade classes (Mrs. Reading and Mrs. Robin). When the kids came to their lockers they were downcast and disappointed. They had worked so hard and weren't going to get the donut party the winners were going to get. I felt so bad for them because they really put their hearts into this. Every kid participated, every kid put forth a lot of themselves in choosing their symbols, and I had never been as proud of them as I was this past week. What I saw in my room is what we want to see when kids cooperate and come up with a creative solution to a problem. It was magic.
So, I was at Sam's Club this afternoon, picking up a prescription, and I saw these plastic boxes of cookies just sitting there. And I thought, "you know what, these kids deserve a party even if they didn't win."
So I bought two boxes of cookies and we're going to have our own reward party tomorrow, just because they deserve it and because they are such great kids!
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Duck! It's the Helicopter Mother!
I know I haven't been posting much, but it's quite simply because it's the week from Hades. I've had something to do every single night after school and it's all I can do to get it done before I crawl into bed, exhausted.
For example, Open House was on Thursday.
We get an amazing number of families in the building on Open House days. Not only do we see our current student and his or her parent or parents, but we'll often see all the brothers and sisters tagging along as well. Our big goal is to smile, introduce ourselves, and have the kids show their parents their rooms, lockers, etc. Mr. Social Studies and I both have PowerPoints scrolling on our screens letting parents know about our classes, along with music playing, and an email sign up list.
One thing we do try to do is to not get trapped in a room with a parent who wants to talk grades (not a good thing when half the neighborhood is wandering through), so we tend to stand in the hall area outside our rooms. Mrs. Math, Miss Reading and Mrs. Language even had a table set up outside their room area. Mr. Social Studies and I didn't do the table thing, but instead simply stood in the hallway which gave us a chance to see who was going where and keep an eye on our rooms as well.
And that's when our number one Helicopter Mother from last year came by, along with her husband (whom we never met), and her two sons, Chopper Boy who we had last year and one who's in sixth grade. Mr. Social Studies saw her heading towards us and whispered "Look out," under his breath at me.
See, this mother had some definite problems with both of us at different times last year. She didn't like the fact that I had assigned a PowerPoint project for the students because she didn't know PowerPoint and couldn't prepare her son for the project. She even threatened to take her "case to the principal" if I couldn't "justify" the technology project I was assigning. Mr. Social Studies incurred her wrath when he told the kids that if they handed in anything on a piece of notebook paper that had been torn out of their binders that it would be counted as a zero - part of our big GPA program is that kids keep EVERYTHING in their binders and tearing out paper is a big no-no. She proceeded to not only complain to the principal about him, but showed up with a case of reinforcements. I still have over a dozen packages of reinforcements in my desk drawer from her gift.
So we were a little surprised when she showed up in our hallway with a big huge smile on her face.
"Oh, I wanted so much to come by and see you two," she gushed at us. "I wanted to know if parents are allowed to request teachers, because our son will be a seventh grader next year and I want him to be on your team."
Mr. Social Studies looked dumbfounded and didn't say a word. I think he was in shock. It takes me a minute or two to come to my senses and then I mumbled something to the effect that I think parents can request teachers but there's no guarantee they'll get their request. I'm sure I sounded like a complete moron. Good gracious, did we want this mother as a parent yet again?
"We're just so pleased with all the work you did with Chopper Boy. We got his Big Deal State Mandated Test Scores last week and he scored off the charts in science and social studies and we know it's just because of the fantastic job you two did with him last year."
"Uh, thanks," both Mr. Social Studies and I manage to mumble. Were we talking to the same mother we had last year?
"I just really like your philosophy on education and your values and I want my other son to have the same great teachers Chopper Boy had."
"Well, check with guidance next year and they'll let you put in a request," I mutter again, still completely astounded by this apparent change of heart.
"Will do!" she says. "Thanks again so much!" She walks away with her family, heading to the 8th grade hall to inspect Chopper Boys current crop of teachers. I feared for them.
"Well," says Mr. Social Studies. "That was a surprise."
"No kidding," I respond. "Especially considering how mad she got at both of us last year."
"Looks like we'll have another steady supply of reinforcements next year."
For example, Open House was on Thursday.
We get an amazing number of families in the building on Open House days. Not only do we see our current student and his or her parent or parents, but we'll often see all the brothers and sisters tagging along as well. Our big goal is to smile, introduce ourselves, and have the kids show their parents their rooms, lockers, etc. Mr. Social Studies and I both have PowerPoints scrolling on our screens letting parents know about our classes, along with music playing, and an email sign up list.
One thing we do try to do is to not get trapped in a room with a parent who wants to talk grades (not a good thing when half the neighborhood is wandering through), so we tend to stand in the hall area outside our rooms. Mrs. Math, Miss Reading and Mrs. Language even had a table set up outside their room area. Mr. Social Studies and I didn't do the table thing, but instead simply stood in the hallway which gave us a chance to see who was going where and keep an eye on our rooms as well.
And that's when our number one Helicopter Mother from last year came by, along with her husband (whom we never met), and her two sons, Chopper Boy who we had last year and one who's in sixth grade. Mr. Social Studies saw her heading towards us and whispered "Look out," under his breath at me.
See, this mother had some definite problems with both of us at different times last year. She didn't like the fact that I had assigned a PowerPoint project for the students because she didn't know PowerPoint and couldn't prepare her son for the project. She even threatened to take her "case to the principal" if I couldn't "justify" the technology project I was assigning. Mr. Social Studies incurred her wrath when he told the kids that if they handed in anything on a piece of notebook paper that had been torn out of their binders that it would be counted as a zero - part of our big GPA program is that kids keep EVERYTHING in their binders and tearing out paper is a big no-no. She proceeded to not only complain to the principal about him, but showed up with a case of reinforcements. I still have over a dozen packages of reinforcements in my desk drawer from her gift.
So we were a little surprised when she showed up in our hallway with a big huge smile on her face.
"Oh, I wanted so much to come by and see you two," she gushed at us. "I wanted to know if parents are allowed to request teachers, because our son will be a seventh grader next year and I want him to be on your team."
Mr. Social Studies looked dumbfounded and didn't say a word. I think he was in shock. It takes me a minute or two to come to my senses and then I mumbled something to the effect that I think parents can request teachers but there's no guarantee they'll get their request. I'm sure I sounded like a complete moron. Good gracious, did we want this mother as a parent yet again?
"We're just so pleased with all the work you did with Chopper Boy. We got his Big Deal State Mandated Test Scores last week and he scored off the charts in science and social studies and we know it's just because of the fantastic job you two did with him last year."
"Uh, thanks," both Mr. Social Studies and I manage to mumble. Were we talking to the same mother we had last year?
"I just really like your philosophy on education and your values and I want my other son to have the same great teachers Chopper Boy had."
"Well, check with guidance next year and they'll let you put in a request," I mutter again, still completely astounded by this apparent change of heart.
"Will do!" she says. "Thanks again so much!" She walks away with her family, heading to the 8th grade hall to inspect Chopper Boys current crop of teachers. I feared for them.
"Well," says Mr. Social Studies. "That was a surprise."
"No kidding," I respond. "Especially considering how mad she got at both of us last year."
"Looks like we'll have another steady supply of reinforcements next year."
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Go Ahead, Make My Day
Stoopid Boy dropped by for a visit Friday morning during homeroom. This isn't all that surprising as this time of year I tend to see quite a few of the kids I taught last year. They're 8th graders now, and rapidly nearing the end of their time here in Middle School. It's a scary time of year for them. On one hand, they're excited about leaving and going on to High School, but at the same time, it's kind of scary leaving the school they've called home for the past three years.
Stoopid Boy and I chatted a bit about this and that, what he was going to do this summer, what he thought about going on to high school, marveling at the fact that this same time last year found him in alternative school and this year he only has 35 discipline points. This, by the way, is fantastic. Last year I think he had well over 200. I asked him what the difference was this year.
"Oh, I dunno," he said. "I think I'm just thinking about stuff before I do it. And I'm not hanging around with people that can get me in trouble, like Fabio Boy, he's messing with drugs and doing stupid shit." Sad to say, this wasn't the first time I'd heard this news about Fabio Boy, but it was refreshing to know that Stoopid Boy realized that he didn't need to be hanging around with this character anymore.
"Well, I'm really, really proud of you. I always knew you could do it," I tell him.
Stoopid Boy smiles, looks at me and asks, "When did you get short?"
"When you got tall!" I tell him, and we both laugh. He gives me a hug and as he turns to leave, yells over his shoulder, "You're getting a surprise today."
This could mean anything, knowing Stoopid Boy.
However, just like he did last year, he remembered (via mom who works at a florist) that it was Teacher Appreciation Day, and four of us, including Ms. Reading, Mrs. Language, and Mrs. Partridge (his 8th grade social studies teacher) got flowers.
Nothing like having a kid you taught last year thank you for being the "best teacher ever!"
Stoopid Boy and I chatted a bit about this and that, what he was going to do this summer, what he thought about going on to high school, marveling at the fact that this same time last year found him in alternative school and this year he only has 35 discipline points. This, by the way, is fantastic. Last year I think he had well over 200. I asked him what the difference was this year.
"Oh, I dunno," he said. "I think I'm just thinking about stuff before I do it. And I'm not hanging around with people that can get me in trouble, like Fabio Boy, he's messing with drugs and doing stupid shit." Sad to say, this wasn't the first time I'd heard this news about Fabio Boy, but it was refreshing to know that Stoopid Boy realized that he didn't need to be hanging around with this character anymore.
"Well, I'm really, really proud of you. I always knew you could do it," I tell him.
Stoopid Boy smiles, looks at me and asks, "When did you get short?"
"When you got tall!" I tell him, and we both laugh. He gives me a hug and as he turns to leave, yells over his shoulder, "You're getting a surprise today."
This could mean anything, knowing Stoopid Boy.
However, just like he did last year, he remembered (via mom who works at a florist) that it was Teacher Appreciation Day, and four of us, including Ms. Reading, Mrs. Language, and Mrs. Partridge (his 8th grade social studies teacher) got flowers.
Nothing like having a kid you taught last year thank you for being the "best teacher ever!"
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Of Algae, S'Mores, Sunburns and Screaming 7th Graders - a Wrap up
So what did I learn from our field trip?
Quite a lot actually.
I learned that this generation of kids is not as familiar with the great outdoors as we are. I grew up in a city but I still had chances through scouting and visits to grandma's farm, to experience things like campfires and shooting stars and fishing. Many kids these days don't even get to go outside and play because there's no safe place to do so. I find this to be horribly sad.
I learned that many things we take for granted are new and different for these kids. It never occurred to me that there were kids who never had a s'more, who never sat by a campfire, who never rode a boat, or walked in the woods, or looked at a wildflower, or just sat looking at the sky at night.
I learned that I made the right decision to leave the corporate world and go into teaching because I never once got the type of satisfaction in business that I got from the look on a kid's face when he caught a crawdad in a net.
Moments that stuck in my mind:
Having a kid tell me that she's never had a s'more before and thanking us for giving her the chance to have one. (She loved it by the way).
Seventh grade girls like to play beauty shop just like we did. When I showed up in the dorm with my hair wet from having just washed it, they all wanted to comb it out and mess with it. I let them.
I had one girl tell me she couldn't remember the last time she actually ate three meals in one day. She was astonished at the amount of food she was given to eat. How sad that there are so many kids out there who consider three squares a day a rarity.
Looking out at the kids when I was telling ghost stories and watching the looks on their faces. I had them in the palm of my hand. Now if I could only do that every day in the classroom.
The look on the kid's faces when they put on their life vests and got on the boat nearly brought a tear to my eyes...their smiles were HUGE.
Watching the kids play with algae and realize that nature is fun, science is cool, and there's nothing so green as algae!
Watching one of my homeroom kids take off on the orienteering course like a gazelle let loose at the zoo. That was, by far, his favorite activity. I could give him a compass tomorrow and tell him to go find something and he'd be out the door.
So did it change the kids we took?
Yup. It did.
They seem a little more mature, a little more calm. They seemed to have found an inner strength in some respects. They take a little more pride in what they're doing.
I handed out progress reports this week and one of my homeroom kids that went on the trip needs to pull his grade up. I handed him his progress report and before I could say anything he said, "I can do a lot better than that." I agreed. "I know you can," I said. "Yeah, I know I can too," he said, and he smiled at me. He's never been that self-assured before.
Not one of them bragged about being able to go on the trip. They seemed to realize that what they received was something special but not something to use to lord it over their classmates who didn't go.
The most interesting thing is how they're relating to us, their teachers.
They don't swing by us and enter the room and then go chat with their friends. They're stopping. They're talking with us, asking us what's going on, how's the day going, what's new? They smile a lot more. I'll be doing a lesson and look up and find one of the kids from the trip looking at me, we'll lock eyes, and they'll smile. They won't look away. When class is over, kids who never once said a word are now saying "goodbye, see you tomorrow" before they leave. They're telling us about their day, about what they did at home, about a problem they're having with another kid or a class or just life in general.
One of the most amazing changes is in how some of the kids view Mr. Social Studies. He's not the warm, cuddly type of teacher - 26 years in law enforcement sort of erased any cuddliness he may have had at one time. He's a disciplinarian with high expectations and he's the teacher the kids love to hate. Later, after they've moved on to 8th grade and beyond they will sometimes come back and thank him for working them so hard and making them think, but during seventh grade most of the kids just can't stand him.
Except now the kids on the trip are bragging about how awesome he is. In my Third Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, one of the Losers made the mistake of making some sort of crack about Mr. Social Studies, which riled up some of the boys who were on our trip. They proceeded to inform everyone that Mr. Social Studies is truly awesome, that his class is cool, and if you would only pay attention you'd figure out how cool he is.
Amazing.
They're connecting.
The Principal has announced that her focus next year, and therefore the focus of our school, is going to be on building relationships. We did that this past weekend.
And it's created a little bit of magic for 32 kids and six grown ups.
And I'm glad we did it. So very, very glad.
Quite a lot actually.
I learned that this generation of kids is not as familiar with the great outdoors as we are. I grew up in a city but I still had chances through scouting and visits to grandma's farm, to experience things like campfires and shooting stars and fishing. Many kids these days don't even get to go outside and play because there's no safe place to do so. I find this to be horribly sad.
I learned that many things we take for granted are new and different for these kids. It never occurred to me that there were kids who never had a s'more, who never sat by a campfire, who never rode a boat, or walked in the woods, or looked at a wildflower, or just sat looking at the sky at night.
I learned that I made the right decision to leave the corporate world and go into teaching because I never once got the type of satisfaction in business that I got from the look on a kid's face when he caught a crawdad in a net.
Moments that stuck in my mind:
Having a kid tell me that she's never had a s'more before and thanking us for giving her the chance to have one. (She loved it by the way).
Seventh grade girls like to play beauty shop just like we did. When I showed up in the dorm with my hair wet from having just washed it, they all wanted to comb it out and mess with it. I let them.
I had one girl tell me she couldn't remember the last time she actually ate three meals in one day. She was astonished at the amount of food she was given to eat. How sad that there are so many kids out there who consider three squares a day a rarity.
Looking out at the kids when I was telling ghost stories and watching the looks on their faces. I had them in the palm of my hand. Now if I could only do that every day in the classroom.
The look on the kid's faces when they put on their life vests and got on the boat nearly brought a tear to my eyes...their smiles were HUGE.
Watching the kids play with algae and realize that nature is fun, science is cool, and there's nothing so green as algae!
Watching one of my homeroom kids take off on the orienteering course like a gazelle let loose at the zoo. That was, by far, his favorite activity. I could give him a compass tomorrow and tell him to go find something and he'd be out the door.
So did it change the kids we took?
Yup. It did.
They seem a little more mature, a little more calm. They seemed to have found an inner strength in some respects. They take a little more pride in what they're doing.
I handed out progress reports this week and one of my homeroom kids that went on the trip needs to pull his grade up. I handed him his progress report and before I could say anything he said, "I can do a lot better than that." I agreed. "I know you can," I said. "Yeah, I know I can too," he said, and he smiled at me. He's never been that self-assured before.
Not one of them bragged about being able to go on the trip. They seemed to realize that what they received was something special but not something to use to lord it over their classmates who didn't go.
The most interesting thing is how they're relating to us, their teachers.
They don't swing by us and enter the room and then go chat with their friends. They're stopping. They're talking with us, asking us what's going on, how's the day going, what's new? They smile a lot more. I'll be doing a lesson and look up and find one of the kids from the trip looking at me, we'll lock eyes, and they'll smile. They won't look away. When class is over, kids who never once said a word are now saying "goodbye, see you tomorrow" before they leave. They're telling us about their day, about what they did at home, about a problem they're having with another kid or a class or just life in general.
One of the most amazing changes is in how some of the kids view Mr. Social Studies. He's not the warm, cuddly type of teacher - 26 years in law enforcement sort of erased any cuddliness he may have had at one time. He's a disciplinarian with high expectations and he's the teacher the kids love to hate. Later, after they've moved on to 8th grade and beyond they will sometimes come back and thank him for working them so hard and making them think, but during seventh grade most of the kids just can't stand him.
Except now the kids on the trip are bragging about how awesome he is. In my Third Period Class From the Very Depths of Hell Itself, one of the Losers made the mistake of making some sort of crack about Mr. Social Studies, which riled up some of the boys who were on our trip. They proceeded to inform everyone that Mr. Social Studies is truly awesome, that his class is cool, and if you would only pay attention you'd figure out how cool he is.
Amazing.
They're connecting.
The Principal has announced that her focus next year, and therefore the focus of our school, is going to be on building relationships. We did that this past weekend.
And it's created a little bit of magic for 32 kids and six grown ups.
And I'm glad we did it. So very, very glad.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Of Algae, S'mores, Sunburns, and Screaming 7th Graders Part II
One thing we all have learned in working with seventh graders is that you really can't afford to give them much, if any, down time. Down time means they get in trouble, or have the potential to get in trouble. The goal is to wear them out so they're awake enough to participate, but tired enough to not cause any mischief.
We succeeded in this goal.
After unpacking we met for a brief orientation, split the kids into three groups (their teams for the weekend) and started in on our first activity. I went with on group on the Lake Study which was something I was interested in anyway, since I happen to be a Project WET (Water Education for Teachers) facilitator and since this was sort of science oriented. Of course the kids were, at first, less than enthused about a Lake Study. After all, how fun could this be?
Pretty darn fun, they found out.
We took a huge net and dragged a portion of the lake to find out what types of organisms we would find. This involved a few kids holding one end of the net on shore, while our guide went out into the lake (gotta love those waterproof coveralls) and swung the net around and back to shore. All the kids had to help pull it ashore and then we went through the contents which consisted of an amazing amount of algae (unusual, according to our guide).
The kids loved the algae. We had to sort through it to find fish, then chuck what we didn't need back into the water. The kids took to this like you wouldn't believe. Kids I never thought would even touch the stuff are elbow deep in algae, marveling at its bright green color, its texture, how it dries on their skin, and how funny it smells. One girl was so impressed with algae that she still hasn't stopped talking about it. Nearly all the kids mentioned that they'd never touched algae before.
We found quite a few smaller fish which we put into buckets of water and the kids got to touch and handle before we freed them back into the lake. This was new for them as well.
We then all got into life vests and went out into the middle of the lake on a pontoon boat and took some water samples. We tested for nitrates, ph, phosphates, clarity, and dissolved oxygen. We took Secchi Disks and used those as well to see how far down into the lake we could see.
The best part? Our guide gave each of them a chance to drive the boat. At this point I asked them how many of them had ever been on a boat before. Two hands went up. I then asked how many of them had driven a boat before. No hands went up. The looks on their faces was just priceless as they steered the boat around the lake. After we returned to the dock and headed up for dinner I asked my group if the Lake Study was as boring as they thought it was going to be.
"No!" they shouted. To a kid, they all wanted to go again. I had to remind them that they had five other activities to do this weekend. That seemed to placate them but they all agreed that nothing could be as cool as the Lake Study.
They were wrong.
We succeeded in this goal.
After unpacking we met for a brief orientation, split the kids into three groups (their teams for the weekend) and started in on our first activity. I went with on group on the Lake Study which was something I was interested in anyway, since I happen to be a Project WET (Water Education for Teachers) facilitator and since this was sort of science oriented. Of course the kids were, at first, less than enthused about a Lake Study. After all, how fun could this be?
Pretty darn fun, they found out.
We took a huge net and dragged a portion of the lake to find out what types of organisms we would find. This involved a few kids holding one end of the net on shore, while our guide went out into the lake (gotta love those waterproof coveralls) and swung the net around and back to shore. All the kids had to help pull it ashore and then we went through the contents which consisted of an amazing amount of algae (unusual, according to our guide).
The kids loved the algae. We had to sort through it to find fish, then chuck what we didn't need back into the water. The kids took to this like you wouldn't believe. Kids I never thought would even touch the stuff are elbow deep in algae, marveling at its bright green color, its texture, how it dries on their skin, and how funny it smells. One girl was so impressed with algae that she still hasn't stopped talking about it. Nearly all the kids mentioned that they'd never touched algae before.
We found quite a few smaller fish which we put into buckets of water and the kids got to touch and handle before we freed them back into the lake. This was new for them as well.
We then all got into life vests and went out into the middle of the lake on a pontoon boat and took some water samples. We tested for nitrates, ph, phosphates, clarity, and dissolved oxygen. We took Secchi Disks and used those as well to see how far down into the lake we could see.
The best part? Our guide gave each of them a chance to drive the boat. At this point I asked them how many of them had ever been on a boat before. Two hands went up. I then asked how many of them had driven a boat before. No hands went up. The looks on their faces was just priceless as they steered the boat around the lake. After we returned to the dock and headed up for dinner I asked my group if the Lake Study was as boring as they thought it was going to be.
"No!" they shouted. To a kid, they all wanted to go again. I had to remind them that they had five other activities to do this weekend. That seemed to placate them but they all agreed that nothing could be as cool as the Lake Study.
They were wrong.
But What If They See Red?!
We have seventh grade field day scheduled for this Friday (weather permitting). As per tradition, each of the three seventh grade teams wears either red, white or blue to indicate which team they are on. Events include volleyball, kickball, tug of war, and quite a few others which serves to keep our kids busy the entire day. On my white board is message regarding the events as well as a reminder to wear a red shirt on Friday.
Today, while I'm introducing and discussing our final Severe Weather Project, Doughboy raises his hand. Now, regular readers of this blog know that any teacher who calls on Doughboy is taking a gamble because we never, ever, know what will come out of Doughboy's mouth. Foolish me, I forgot this, and called on Doughboy.
"Why do we have to wear red?" he asks. I stop going over the assignment and explain about the red shirts on field day. Now with almost any other kid I would have been a bit annoyed that we were straying far off topic, but we've learned that Doughboy just lives in a bit of an alternate reality. My answer, however, seems to satisfy him so we get back to the weather.
Doughboy, however, raises his hand again and I, like an idiot, call on him.
"What about the bulls?" he asks.
"The bulls?" I ask. I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. The rest of the kids in class have all perked up and are listening intently.
"The bulls! They like red! Will we be safe from the bulls?" Doughboy queries. He's obviously concerned and just a tad upset. It dawns on me that he's talking about bull, as in big cow with horns.
"Doughboy have you ever seen any bulls here at school?"
"No, but we have lots of farms around here and I don't think we should wear red because of the bulls!"
At this point the entire class is choking back laughter. They never out and out laugh when it comes to Doughboy because they're used to his questions. They just sort of cover their faces and try be as quiet as they can. I tend to respect them for this tiny bit of kindness.
I decided it was pointless to try to explain to Doughboy that our school is in an older part of town, surrounded by subdivisions and shopping centers and the closest farm is quite a bit away. I simply reassured him that we would make sure that all the bulls were taken away and that he would be quite safe from them during field day. That seemed to placate him.
For now.
I may have to come up with some magical charm for him to wear to keep the bulls away. After all, this is a kid who wears a magical lanyard (with frogs on it) and a special key to keep the dead people out of his gym locker. (The Principal came up with the magic lanyard idea.)
Still, as messed up as this poor child is, he does touch your heart. According to Mrs. Language, he volunteered to read his journal today (a rare event) and answered the question "what are you looking forward to about going into the 8th grade?"
His response was that he didn't want to go to eighth grade. He wanted to stay with us in seventh grade because for the first time, he had teachers that loved him.
How could you not love this goofy little guy?
Today, while I'm introducing and discussing our final Severe Weather Project, Doughboy raises his hand. Now, regular readers of this blog know that any teacher who calls on Doughboy is taking a gamble because we never, ever, know what will come out of Doughboy's mouth. Foolish me, I forgot this, and called on Doughboy.
"Why do we have to wear red?" he asks. I stop going over the assignment and explain about the red shirts on field day. Now with almost any other kid I would have been a bit annoyed that we were straying far off topic, but we've learned that Doughboy just lives in a bit of an alternate reality. My answer, however, seems to satisfy him so we get back to the weather.
Doughboy, however, raises his hand again and I, like an idiot, call on him.
"What about the bulls?" he asks.
"The bulls?" I ask. I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. The rest of the kids in class have all perked up and are listening intently.
"The bulls! They like red! Will we be safe from the bulls?" Doughboy queries. He's obviously concerned and just a tad upset. It dawns on me that he's talking about bull, as in big cow with horns.
"Doughboy have you ever seen any bulls here at school?"
"No, but we have lots of farms around here and I don't think we should wear red because of the bulls!"
At this point the entire class is choking back laughter. They never out and out laugh when it comes to Doughboy because they're used to his questions. They just sort of cover their faces and try be as quiet as they can. I tend to respect them for this tiny bit of kindness.
I decided it was pointless to try to explain to Doughboy that our school is in an older part of town, surrounded by subdivisions and shopping centers and the closest farm is quite a bit away. I simply reassured him that we would make sure that all the bulls were taken away and that he would be quite safe from them during field day. That seemed to placate him.
For now.
I may have to come up with some magical charm for him to wear to keep the bulls away. After all, this is a kid who wears a magical lanyard (with frogs on it) and a special key to keep the dead people out of his gym locker. (The Principal came up with the magic lanyard idea.)
Still, as messed up as this poor child is, he does touch your heart. According to Mrs. Language, he volunteered to read his journal today (a rare event) and answered the question "what are you looking forward to about going into the 8th grade?"
His response was that he didn't want to go to eighth grade. He wanted to stay with us in seventh grade because for the first time, he had teachers that loved him.
How could you not love this goofy little guy?
Monday, April 23, 2007
Of Algae, S'mores, Sunburns, and Screaming 7th Graders Part I
Our goal, when we came up with this wild idea of a "wilderness weekend", was to provide our students, many of them from broken and/or low income homes, with opportunities to do things they've never had the chance to do before. It was a lot of work putting it together, and Mrs. Language, bless her heart, did the bulk of it and did a fantastic job with it. We had the full support of The Principal because she believes that anything we do that is child-centered, that will help our kids, is a good thing.
Still, many people, including us, thought we might be just a little bit crazy.
And at 10:30 on Friday morning, in a bus full of screaming 7th graders, we thought they just may be right.
We weren't due to check in to the camp until around 3:00 pm, so we had time to do a tour of an 1850's homestead nearby. We broke the kids into two groups and toured the farm, which was a fairly new experience for many of them. Big revelation for them was that there wasn't any indoor plumbing, and hence no bathroom. The lesson that at 13, most of them would already know how to run their own household or farm was a big eye-opener for them as well. Many of them thought that the oxen were pretty impressive because they were so big and the sheep were also high on the popularity list.
We had brought along sack lunches which we ate there in a picnic area along side a little creek.
Lunch was gobbled down and pretty soon half the kids were wading through the creek while the other half had put together a football game using an apple as a ball. I've spent most of the year looking at these kids in a classroom so it was a real change to see them outside playing. First thing that occurred to me was how much energy these kids had to burn. It was almost exhausting just watching them yell and run and scream and jump.
We made it to camp on time, checked in at the desk, got the keys to the dorms and prepared to move everyone in. The kids were waiting, bags and sleeping bags on the ground, bouncing around, eager to get going. We gave the all clear to move into the dorms and the stampede down the hill to the dorms was a sight to see. I found out later that they were running to be the first to get a top bunk. It probably took them sixty seconds to get everything moved in. Bags flew, sleeping bags unrolled, kids screamed and giggled and laughed!
Funny, but at my age, I would have been running to get a bottom bunk!
It's late now, and I'm still not recovered, so I'll sign off. More to come!
Still, many people, including us, thought we might be just a little bit crazy.
And at 10:30 on Friday morning, in a bus full of screaming 7th graders, we thought they just may be right.
We weren't due to check in to the camp until around 3:00 pm, so we had time to do a tour of an 1850's homestead nearby. We broke the kids into two groups and toured the farm, which was a fairly new experience for many of them. Big revelation for them was that there wasn't any indoor plumbing, and hence no bathroom. The lesson that at 13, most of them would already know how to run their own household or farm was a big eye-opener for them as well. Many of them thought that the oxen were pretty impressive because they were so big and the sheep were also high on the popularity list.
We had brought along sack lunches which we ate there in a picnic area along side a little creek.
Lunch was gobbled down and pretty soon half the kids were wading through the creek while the other half had put together a football game using an apple as a ball. I've spent most of the year looking at these kids in a classroom so it was a real change to see them outside playing. First thing that occurred to me was how much energy these kids had to burn. It was almost exhausting just watching them yell and run and scream and jump.
We made it to camp on time, checked in at the desk, got the keys to the dorms and prepared to move everyone in. The kids were waiting, bags and sleeping bags on the ground, bouncing around, eager to get going. We gave the all clear to move into the dorms and the stampede down the hill to the dorms was a sight to see. I found out later that they were running to be the first to get a top bunk. It probably took them sixty seconds to get everything moved in. Bags flew, sleeping bags unrolled, kids screamed and giggled and laughed!
Funny, but at my age, I would have been running to get a bottom bunk!
It's late now, and I'm still not recovered, so I'll sign off. More to come!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Of Algae, S'mores, Sunburns, and Screaming 7th Graders
This past fall our team got the bright idea that it would be really great if we could take our kids to a local national forest area for a camping weekend. Actually, it's not camping with tents (there's dorms and showers and even food service) but it's in the woods, by a lake, and it offers some great educational opportunities. Due to space, and finances, we couldn't take the entire team (and truth be told, there were a few kids we didn't want to be out in the woods with), so we had to narrow it down to 32 kids - sixteen boys and sixteen girls. We had them write an essay about why they should go and were looking for leadership ability, kids who may not be the top students but who had shown some growth and maturity, and kids who could use a weekend with some positive role models. In short, kids we were hoping would turn out to be leaders in the 8th grade.
Many people thought we were crazy. At times, we agreed. But we'd made the commitment, the plans were made, the kids were hyped up.
This was the weekend.
We left at 10:00 am on Friday and returned at 2:00 pm on Sunday.
For the mathematically challenged, that is 52 hours - straight - with 32 seventh graders.
I am exhausted.
More to come...as I am going to bed.
Many people thought we were crazy. At times, we agreed. But we'd made the commitment, the plans were made, the kids were hyped up.
This was the weekend.
We left at 10:00 am on Friday and returned at 2:00 pm on Sunday.
For the mathematically challenged, that is 52 hours - straight - with 32 seventh graders.
I am exhausted.
More to come...as I am going to bed.
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