Weekly Review

Monday: Day off!

Tuesday: Today, after class, a former student came in to say hello to me and found out I was hosting study hall. He called home to ask if he could stay and I overheard him say, “yeah, I wasn’t planning to stay, but my favorite teacher’s hosting study hall, so I can just take the bus after if that’s okay.”

Wednesday: Halfway through class, one of my students raised his hand and asked for a pencil. I asked him what happened to the pencil he’d been using. With a look of pure, painful confusion, he replied “Um. It went…. under the wall.” (I have not told them one of the walls can fold back between classrooms.)

Thursday: The highlight of my day today was discovering a student wrote “BUTTS” on the class sign-in sheet. I looked at it and, calmly, silently, tore off the bottom of the sign-in sheet before turning around. As soon as I faced the class, a boy in the back turned bright red and began hysterically giggling in his hand. Naturally, the only appropriate response I found was to take a photo of the culprit – him – holding the paper.

Friday: Today, I told one of my more rowdy students that he should be in theatre (because of how dramatic he was being in our conversation). He threw his hand to his chest, dropped his jaw, and – genuinely, I think – said, “thank you, Miss!”

Remembering the Reason

Tonight, I attended one of the school’s plays, a back-to-back showing of two one-acts. It was hilarious and silly, and as I applauded for my students and former students, it was a very serious reminder to me why I chose this career.

I need to be more aware of those reminders when they pass me by. They are so, so important.

Today was not the most fantastic day of all time. There were some pretty disheartening moments, honestly. Two of my four classes felt totally checked out of the lesson, leading to a lot of poor behavior and thus discipline, and one of my boys got suspended while already attending in-school suspension.

Then I had study hall. Two of my all-time favorite kids, both of whom are former students and currently working with special education kids in our school, asked me to wear purple for epilepsy awareness next week; one gave me a bracelet that he made for the occasion and told me, “I got you, Miss, here is your purple” so that I could represent.

These are kids I love, kids I would do anything to help. They are kids I spent a year with, who I will remember for the rest of my life.

I stayed at school after study hall, planning to grade until the play; I mainly just talked to other teachers and hung out, drinking coffee, before wandering over to the auditorium. It was wonderful. I saw former students, kids who were teeny-tiny and awkward and uncomfortable with themselves last year blossom on stage and deliver hilarious one-liners throughout the performance.

As they all lined up to bow, and I cheered and applauded with everyone, I made sure to tell a few of my former students how proud I was of them. What a cool thing it is to be able to have connections like this with kids, and see them grow into themselves. What a privilege it is – even with the stress, and the anxiety, and everything that I’m still learning how to struggle with, I had the opportunity to cheer on students that I no longer teach but still support. That’s pretty damn cool.

Weekly Review

Monday: One of my former students came by to tell me that she misses me. It’s not a funny story, or something odd, or even particularly noteworthy, but it was the highlight of my day.

Tuesday:  In my last class today, I’d just begun reading an article to my students when my door opened and my student from another class walked in the room. She had cupcakes (I have no idea why) and was coming into my classroom (who knows why she was leaving the class she should’ve been in) to give me one. They were Halloween-themed, and the whole class groaned in jealousy when I picked out a cupcake. They asked to split it. The whole cupcake, split 30 ways.

Wednesday: Today was Halloween, which is always an odd day to teach. It’s difficult to discipline when you’re dressed as a fictional character and have a box of Eggo Waffles on your desk as an accessory.

Thursday: I read a poem to one of my classes, and because I want them to be interested, I tried to read it with as much emotion as I could. One of my students reacted to that by saying, “Miss, you should be a preacher.”

Friday:  Today we had class in the library. Halfway through the day, a student asked me at the end of class, “Miss, do you let all of your classes come to the library, or are we the only ones who go?” …. Nah, just you guys.

The Conversations We Have

Year: 2

My favorite part of teaching are the conversations.

Sometimes I forget this. Sometimes, I get so caught up in the minute-by-minute monitoring of “are we going to complete this handout?” or “are we going to stay on schedule?” that I forget the conversations I have with my students are the best part of my job. So far, this week has been a reminder that I should be having more conversations.

Yesterday, I taught the essential question for Quarter 2. Every quarter, the classes follow an essential question – one big, open-ended question – that should be, hopefully, answered by the end of the quarter. This time, we’re asking the following: why is culture important? So much of my lessons yesterday were soaked up by conversations of students sharing about their cultures, asking questions about cultures with which they’re unfamiliar, wanting to know more about different holidays or traditions. It allowed for funny stories, students opening up about their personal lives, and a level of interest that carried me through each lesson.

Today, the tone was very different, even if the interest felt the same. I introduced the Holocaust and a brief understanding of World War II, so that tomorrow, when we begin reading the new class text, students will be prepared to read. This is a difficult lesson not only because of the content, but because, for many middle school students, this is the very first time they’re learning about the war or the genocide. I asked students at the start of every class to raise their hands if they’ve heard of the word ‘holocaust,’ and only about five or so raised a hand every class. It took a lot of emotional energy to be the first person to tell them what a concentration camp functioned as, or what the term Nazi truly means. Yet – despite that – at the end of every single class, a few students would hang around my desk, risking the possibility of a tardy to their next class, to ask me a few more questions about that time period.

The conversations I have with my students, especially ones like today’s and yesterday’s, are so impactful because they’re conversations about issues that matter. These conversations encourage real reflection and curiosity on the part of my students, and that is a sign that my students are growing into critically thinking young adults. Aside from the fact that it is so damn important to be a critically thinking adult, it just so impresses and inspires me to see kids like this so interested in difficult topics that matter in society. It reminds me of a something John Green said, after someone criticized his work for being too mature: “I’m tired of adults telling teenagers that they aren’t smart, that they can’t read critically, that they aren’t thoughtful.” Conversations like these in the classroom offer a safe opportunity for kids to explore difficult, complex, new ideas and issues in a way that encourages them to be more thoughtful of the world around them.

It’s No Hogwarts, But…

It’s little secret that I am a giant Harry Potter nerd. I grew up with the series, and in many ways consider it to be one of the most important pieces of literature to come out of the last thirty years. As a teacher, I’ve brought in a lot of my magical obsession into the classroom. There are so many different ways to incorporate this series into the classroom, but for my fellow magical teachers, here are just a few!

The House Competition:

This is one of my favorite aspects of the classroom culture I’ve built so far. I’ve named all of my classes after Hogwarts Houses; conveniently, I only have four classes, but this could be adapted easily to another classroom by sorting classes into Houses by grade level or different subject (ex. combining two classes because they’re both 10th grade). Each class competes for the House Cup every quarter, and at the end of each quarterly competition, I throw the winning class a party. I have only a few ways that each class can earn points: classes can win daily points based on good behavior, and weekly points based on who has the cleanest classroom, fewest tardies, and highest percentage of assignments turned in. Practical benefits: This allows a positive incentive for students to focus and behave in daily lessons, as well as something positive to anticipate at the end of each quarter. There’s no limit to how many times a class can win, which allows for that anticipation to continue each quarter for classes who have already won.

Wizard and Witch of the Week:

A lot of teachers have Student of the Week or Student of the Month, and this is simply a magical take on things. Every Friday, I choose two students from all of my classes, and I pick a specific reason why that student was chosen. Most of the time, those reasons are small (coming to study hall, arriving on time every day, going out of their way to ask me about assignments, etc.) because I like reminding students how little things matter in the grand scheme of becoming successful at whatever you’re doing. The entire class cheers when I call their name, and I tell them in front of the class why I felt so impressed with them that week. For the entire week following, until the next two students I choose, their names hang in frames labeled “Wizard of the Week” or “Witch of the Week.” Next to the current wizards and witches, I have a giant frame with the names of all previous wizards and witches that will stay up all year. Practical benefits: This allows for a regular, and relatively simple, way for me to reward students who are doing well. Social recognition may be a really great motivator for some kids, or really important validation for others who don’t necessarily recognize their own hard work.

The Daily Prophet

This is my student work board. I have a homemade frame (black construction paper with real newspaper underneath) for each piece of student work. Oftentimes, I highlight specific paragraphs that my students wrote, but sometimes I throw in a list of creative titles from five or six students on one board. I’ll keep those up until we turn in our next major writing assignment. Practical benefits: This is another, more prolonged, form of social recognition for students. For so much of my time in class, it feels like I focus most heavily on constructive criticism so that my students improve their writing and reading skills, so this is a fun way for me to just appreciate students’ for where they are.

 

October: the month that lasts two years

Year: 2

It’s six in the morning, and as I’m making lunch for today, I’m listening to a Spanish playlist and wishing I were back in Chile. This week, I’m teaching an argumentative essay for the second time. I feel as though I’m moving through mud. It’s October, and I am feeling this month in every part of my day.

Writing anything about teaching during October, November, or December runs the risk of just being a string of tired (very tired) complaints. It is a very particularly difficult time of the school year because, as students get more comfortable and begin to act out, teachers are just wearing down their energy. We’re entering a part of the year when I have to become much more strict (I am already very strict) and I enjoy this job much less because of it.

My school’s fall break ended yesterday, and rather than feeling refreshed and ready to teach, I felt as though I were dragging myself through each class. After this week, the quarter should be much easier to get through, as writing lessons are typically less enjoyable for me than other lessons. The days following any break, but especially a break in the fall, are rough, and it will get better as I get back into the routine of teaching.  I’m trying to focus on that as I go into today. I probably sound like a broken record, having said this so many times, but self care is going to be even more important for me this week: to all the other teachers out there, I hope you’re taking care of yourselves, too.

On Being Mean

Year: 2

Some weeks in teaching seem to have themes of a sort. This week, I’ve been reminded multiple times of how mean kids can be to each other.

One of my students has been suspended for getting in a fight, and when I saw him in the front office, he told me that he was defending himself. Another kid limped past my classroom because someone shoved him into a basketball pole during lunch. Another student said something so terribly mean about one of his classmates that I had no choice but to send him up to the front office; and this kid, I’ve already had a very recent conversation about respect and being kind to others.

I heard once that everything a person does is an echo. If a person is behaving kindly, they are echoing the kindness that has been shown to them in the past. If a person is behaving unkindly, that person is echoing the pain that has been shown to them. I’ve always thought this to be a powerful analogy to explain general behavior: you react to the people around you, often unconsciously, and it is often a mirrored behavior.

Kids can be mean. It’s so easy to forget until you come into contact with that kind of malevolence. It feels like a kick to the gut, to me, when I see viciousness, like in the behavior I’ve seen done to my kids this week.  I’m never not bothered by it. Kids echo the behavior they see around them, and when they are shown pain, they throw pain back. It’s really difficult to be a witness to that process. As someone who spends their life trying to teach children, and care about them, you just want to protect them as best as you can, but there won’t always be an opportunity to do that.

I wonder if we’re doing something wrong, something that we could be teaching our young ones and aren’t, or if this is a natural part of human behavior that can’t be rerouted. We could teach kids to think about their actions and emotions more, teach kids to reflect more. I don’t really have an answer or opinion. I just can’t help but ask that question when I see a week like this.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the teaching of things, because that’s our job description, that it’s easy to forget that kids have so much to deal with only a daily basis. It is that same lesson I have learned, and will learn, again and again, in teaching: kids are just kids, and you should have compassion above all else.