Sundays are, for my #noobhusband, about jerseys and 10 am to 10 pm football. Since our meeting and my first year of teaching are one and the same, my adult life has consisted of Sundays filled with orange and black-clad David (just guess what his team is....hint: he's from Dayton, Ohio), seasonally-decorated bars, and the bright light of my laptop, reflecting lesson plans for the week (with gmail, facebook, teacherspayteachers, and pinterest tabs beckoning from behind). On this particular Sunday, I'm feeling nostalgic for The Avenue, a dive bar on Telegraph in North Oakland. David would wear his orange and black jersey, I'd be glued to my computer screen, plan book sprawled in front of me, beer (or occasionally milk), in hand. At Halloween there'd be creepy cobwebs and free food, beginning December 1st there'd be snowflakes, Santas, menorahs, and crockpots full of mac and/or nacho cheese.
Today, I have my snowman cozied-up beer, plan book sprawled, homework folders filled, and teacherspayteachers tab open, watching #noobhusband in his Warriors jersey (huh?) eating cheese and apples 20 feet away. Sunday is, for most teachers, yet another workday...and for me, it is quite the same. But Sundays have a certain charm, a certain coziness...a predictability that is rarely disturbed. Brunch on Sunday? No problem...still time for beer, teacherspayteachers, and scribbling all over my planbook. Birthday party at 6 pm? No problem, I'll have a mimosa while I plan and David looks on. Out of town/at airport/wedding/etc? David will use my fancy phone to watch Sundayticketorwhateveritscalledonaniphone/justwearhisBengalssocks and I'll fit my planbook in my purse. While Sundays often bring a little anxiety for the week, they also bring this routine and nostalgia...this has become my teacher's Sunday, if you will.
The other (non-teaching-related) thing on my mind this Sunday is missing my 10 year reunion. In part, it was a conscious decision. Until 3 or so weeks ago, it was a given. I wanted to go purely for the fear of regretting not going if I didn't. And guess what? I regret not going. Mostly what won over was this weird fear of reverting to a high school self-- not that high school self was bad, but high school self meant awkwardly hiding in the library at lunch because pretending to use the computer to fill out college applicatons was easier than trying to find a friend who didn't have lunch period off my senior year. High school self was charting Mario Kart victories against the "computer" in bar graphs. High school self was not returning phone calls for fear of saying the wrong thing on the phone. High school self was falling asleep in class, being nervous to say "here" when roll was called, wearing too-short cheerleading skirts on Fridays because we had to, calling my parents to be picked up at parties where alcohol was present (YEP, that really happened), and perhaps being part of things I wouldn't be a part of now (yes I do mean cheerleading...I regret nothing, but my current feminist self wishes I took up softball, too, and worried less about how high my ponytail was rather than how big my biceps were...although college cheerleading taught me through double days I could have both ;). High school self was being a "try hard kid"--but yet somehow not; lacking the voracious inquiry to ACTUALLY learn, all while still earning a too-high GPA, when I now cannot accurately tell you precisely what a derivative is, what the equation for force is, or who our 22nd President was.
And so, you see, I was afraid that being around anyone/thing from high school would remind me of what we all experienced to one degree or another in adolescence...that uneasy, self-conscious, inadequate feeling of BEING. And to feel unsure like that again...was seemingly not worth it. I remember, in high school, being so envious of the people who felt comfortable enough to strike up a conversation with a stranger, to joke with a member of the opposite sex, to even be physically comfortable enough with someone to lightly punch them on the shoulder or hug them randomly--not upon greeting or saying goodbye. And NOW-- I feel I am the same and yet opposite of who I was, still hyper-aware of the feelings and meanings of others, but with a certain-knowledge of who I am: a beer-and-family/friend-loving, Murakami-reading, Jeapordy-watching, milk-guzzling, Kindergarten-teaching, forgetful, key-losing, social-justice-seeking extrovert who enjoys making friends with taxi drivers and airplane neighbors, tasting new beers, hiking new hills, traveling to new places, and to revisit my 14-17 year old self felt uncomfortable...a less interesting, less knowledgeable, less ME me. But isn't that true of everyone? Silly noob.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
White teacher.
With the ruling last night on the Ferguson case, I am deeply disheartened. But I am also inspired to engage in conversations that matter to me, to analyze and reflect and be thoughtful about how EDUCATION is one of the most important keys to inspiring change. Teaching, to me, is a very political act. We take our beliefs, our understandings, and of course our pedagogy and knowledge and impart them to students. We of course aim to remain objective and unbiased, to present all sides, to be fair and nonjudgmental. But we are people with agendas and beliefs...and those are bound to come out in one way or another. For one teacher, it may be an intolerance for the word "heck." For another, it might be absolutely not okay to ever eat in the classroom. These are within realms of normal, but are based on a lived experience of the teacher; what he or she perceives to be acceptable or not.
While many times I feel as if I'm not conveying ANY information (what am I if not honest?) to my Kinders...what comes out sounds very much like the muck in my brain, mixed together as their bright eyes stare at me (or at the piece of string or shoelace in their hand), I do have an agenda in the classroom. (That makes me sound deviant or inappropriate...I hope that's not the case.) But my agenda is to spread kindness...to teach children to be kind and indiscriminating (this is very difficult when patience is low...), to be strong and problem solvers, but also to be anti-racists, anti-homophobic, anti-classist members of our society.
There is a sensitive place here. Am I going to deny children their religious beliefs? Of course not. But will I talk again and again about same-sex parents and normalize it? OF COURSE. Will I provide examples of people of color who have made incredible impacts on this world, and provide children's books that picture people of color...not JUST FOR Black History month, but ALL the time? Of course I will. Will I work to bash stereotypes by opening dialogue even with small children, on gender roles, race issues, etc.? YES. I'm not so great at it yet...I'm still getting down this whole Kindergarten thing, but I have a DUTY as a privileged citizen to spread awareness of non-vanilla ideas. If it's okay for teachers to teach an altered, cherry-on-top version of the first Thanksgiving, Christopher Columbus, etc. etc, then it must be okay for me to bring up the other side. To perspective take. To think critically and deeply. Like I said, I still don't know exactly what this looks like in Kindergarten...but I do feel triumphant when by the end of the school my students KNOW there are no girl and boy colors in our classroom. That boys can have long hair too and that's not "gross". That everyone has different skin colors, and we don't have to pretend we're all the same, because we're all beautiful and difference is BEAUTIFUL. And while I understand the sentiment that we're all the same on the inside...I don't really think that's true either. Our experiences and knowledge and feelings and synapses all make up who we are on the inside...and all those are different, and that's GOOD. I want my students to be more than tolerant, I want them to be self-aware and critical not just of their learning but of themselves, of their surroundings, of the history we're taught, of the injustices so many face. I want them to understand this world is beautiful, but it's flawed. I want them to listen to a superbly well-educated supreme court attorney, and not eat up his words because he says all the buzz words and is well spoken, but listens to the content of his message and uses all their prior knowledge and perspective taking of history to realize how UNJUST this is.
I don't think I'm going to accomplish all this in one Kindergarten classroom. In fact, it's honestly difficult for me to get all my students to grade level in reading/math/etc. I don't know if it's going to be me...in fact it likely won't be. But I'm a piece of a system of educators, and I hope that others see teaching as a deeply political act. Not to save the world, but to maybe prevent some tragedies like this one; to advocate for justice.
While many times I feel as if I'm not conveying ANY information (what am I if not honest?) to my Kinders...what comes out sounds very much like the muck in my brain, mixed together as their bright eyes stare at me (or at the piece of string or shoelace in their hand), I do have an agenda in the classroom. (That makes me sound deviant or inappropriate...I hope that's not the case.) But my agenda is to spread kindness...to teach children to be kind and indiscriminating (this is very difficult when patience is low...), to be strong and problem solvers, but also to be anti-racists, anti-homophobic, anti-classist members of our society.
There is a sensitive place here. Am I going to deny children their religious beliefs? Of course not. But will I talk again and again about same-sex parents and normalize it? OF COURSE. Will I provide examples of people of color who have made incredible impacts on this world, and provide children's books that picture people of color...not JUST FOR Black History month, but ALL the time? Of course I will. Will I work to bash stereotypes by opening dialogue even with small children, on gender roles, race issues, etc.? YES. I'm not so great at it yet...I'm still getting down this whole Kindergarten thing, but I have a DUTY as a privileged citizen to spread awareness of non-vanilla ideas. If it's okay for teachers to teach an altered, cherry-on-top version of the first Thanksgiving, Christopher Columbus, etc. etc, then it must be okay for me to bring up the other side. To perspective take. To think critically and deeply. Like I said, I still don't know exactly what this looks like in Kindergarten...but I do feel triumphant when by the end of the school my students KNOW there are no girl and boy colors in our classroom. That boys can have long hair too and that's not "gross". That everyone has different skin colors, and we don't have to pretend we're all the same, because we're all beautiful and difference is BEAUTIFUL. And while I understand the sentiment that we're all the same on the inside...I don't really think that's true either. Our experiences and knowledge and feelings and synapses all make up who we are on the inside...and all those are different, and that's GOOD. I want my students to be more than tolerant, I want them to be self-aware and critical not just of their learning but of themselves, of their surroundings, of the history we're taught, of the injustices so many face. I want them to understand this world is beautiful, but it's flawed. I want them to listen to a superbly well-educated supreme court attorney, and not eat up his words because he says all the buzz words and is well spoken, but listens to the content of his message and uses all their prior knowledge and perspective taking of history to realize how UNJUST this is.
I don't think I'm going to accomplish all this in one Kindergarten classroom. In fact, it's honestly difficult for me to get all my students to grade level in reading/math/etc. I don't know if it's going to be me...in fact it likely won't be. But I'm a piece of a system of educators, and I hope that others see teaching as a deeply political act. Not to save the world, but to maybe prevent some tragedies like this one; to advocate for justice.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Locura, te digo.
Today I choose not to write about instruction or children themselves, but all the crazy routines and rituals surrounding the children and the instruction. I know I'm a bit of an odd bird--- I often walk around my (very large) classroom aimlessly, forgetting what I set out to do, and randomly adjusting other things in the meantime. My intent MIGHT be to turn off my tiny coffeepot, but instead I'll see that there's a tack on the floor and realize the calendar is hanging haphazardly off the wall, so I'll go fix that. That will remind me I haven't yet changed my sight word OR jobs for the week, and I'll get halfway through that and see I haven't finished my morning message for tomorrow (or today) yet, and begin to write it, only to be distracted by the fact that my projector is roaring loudly even though I meant to turn it off five minutes ago. I'm SURE this is not the reality for many teachers, but here is what my day typically looks like:
Arrive at school. Wander around classroom aimlessly, randomly putting materials in centers bins as I remember them, setting morning work papers out at student desks, remembering I should check for hoarded acorns because they have maggots inside of them (yes, really) and literally throw them out the window. Remember I need to have my walkie talkie on, remind myself I really should listen to music this morning, turn on computer to listen to said music, realize I left coffee in pot from yesterday and need to clean that out, get distracted by askew books in classroom library, and twenty minutes later remember I could really use some music, but oh woops it's time to go meet my students outside to take to breakfast. Then, remember I forgot my attendance folder, but luckily my teaching partner takes care of me and makes sure I have it.
Then there's recess. Oh, dear. Half the time I remember I need to prep snack, but most times I'm just grabbing manipulatives for Math and mentally preparing my lesson. Forget it if it's a day I have recess duty--then I'm just running madly around the room, grabbing a tiny yellow chair with my (third) cup of coffee for the day, dragging it outside, and pretending I'm having a beer in the sun as I watch the bathroom-goers, intermittently reminding them to "please walk" which then turns into "PLEASE WALK" and then "WALKING FEET IN THE HALLWAY" to "come back and try that again. all the way back here. nope, further here."
Lunchtime. Filling water bottles, eating random leftover snacks I leave around the classroom as I'm dropping them off at student desks. Find a fun read-aloud for after lunch, turn on air conditioning (yep, even now, in November...) turn off lights and on Pandora (sometimes mistakenly on Aloe Blacc or Rihanna radio when really I meant classical) for quiet time, either lay my head in my arms or head to the Staff Room for more coffee, more water, some copies, and a quick-heated food-shoveling feast.
After school. Wander aimlessly, randomly put things away, curse myself for not having a "go-back" bin like all the retail stores, run to my computer when I remember I have an e-mail I need to write, get distracted by another incoming e-mail, remember I want to listen to music, can't decide what I want, check facebook instead. Inform the wonderful custodian unfortunately my barely-functioning toilet DID overflow again and yep someone did pee on the floor, so so sorry...show her twelve cute photos of my students reading, sit and stare for 3 minutes...curse myself for the fourth time for forgetting my cell phone charger, and half-filling out 4 IS forms, resolving to finish them tomorrow. Said custodian teases me for drinking my fifth cup of coffee of the day. Quickly write morning message, glance at plans for tomorrow, pile student work, school computer, and teacher editions in my bag, search for 7.5 mins for my car keys since they're not attached to my school lanyard (why not? you ask...no reason), text 3 people how much I love them, and head out.
But it's not over. On the ride home, Vox Michelle about my day, using colorful imagery, and at stop lights try really hard to resist the urge to add to my "Notes" for things to do in the morning. Call David via speakerphone to see if he needs me to pick up some beer or food or equally vital commodity, arrive home, drink a beer and look at teacher blogs, adding thirty seven ideas to my week.
And then I sleep, wake up, and go back to Kindergarten. Maybe next time it'll be worth writing about the weekend. ;) Locura, te digo.
Arrive at school. Wander around classroom aimlessly, randomly putting materials in centers bins as I remember them, setting morning work papers out at student desks, remembering I should check for hoarded acorns because they have maggots inside of them (yes, really) and literally throw them out the window. Remember I need to have my walkie talkie on, remind myself I really should listen to music this morning, turn on computer to listen to said music, realize I left coffee in pot from yesterday and need to clean that out, get distracted by askew books in classroom library, and twenty minutes later remember I could really use some music, but oh woops it's time to go meet my students outside to take to breakfast. Then, remember I forgot my attendance folder, but luckily my teaching partner takes care of me and makes sure I have it.
Then there's recess. Oh, dear. Half the time I remember I need to prep snack, but most times I'm just grabbing manipulatives for Math and mentally preparing my lesson. Forget it if it's a day I have recess duty--then I'm just running madly around the room, grabbing a tiny yellow chair with my (third) cup of coffee for the day, dragging it outside, and pretending I'm having a beer in the sun as I watch the bathroom-goers, intermittently reminding them to "please walk" which then turns into "PLEASE WALK" and then "WALKING FEET IN THE HALLWAY" to "come back and try that again. all the way back here. nope, further here."
Lunchtime. Filling water bottles, eating random leftover snacks I leave around the classroom as I'm dropping them off at student desks. Find a fun read-aloud for after lunch, turn on air conditioning (yep, even now, in November...) turn off lights and on Pandora (sometimes mistakenly on Aloe Blacc or Rihanna radio when really I meant classical) for quiet time, either lay my head in my arms or head to the Staff Room for more coffee, more water, some copies, and a quick-heated food-shoveling feast.
After school. Wander aimlessly, randomly put things away, curse myself for not having a "go-back" bin like all the retail stores, run to my computer when I remember I have an e-mail I need to write, get distracted by another incoming e-mail, remember I want to listen to music, can't decide what I want, check facebook instead. Inform the wonderful custodian unfortunately my barely-functioning toilet DID overflow again and yep someone did pee on the floor, so so sorry...show her twelve cute photos of my students reading, sit and stare for 3 minutes...curse myself for the fourth time for forgetting my cell phone charger, and half-filling out 4 IS forms, resolving to finish them tomorrow. Said custodian teases me for drinking my fifth cup of coffee of the day. Quickly write morning message, glance at plans for tomorrow, pile student work, school computer, and teacher editions in my bag, search for 7.5 mins for my car keys since they're not attached to my school lanyard (why not? you ask...no reason), text 3 people how much I love them, and head out.
But it's not over. On the ride home, Vox Michelle about my day, using colorful imagery, and at stop lights try really hard to resist the urge to add to my "Notes" for things to do in the morning. Call David via speakerphone to see if he needs me to pick up some beer or food or equally vital commodity, arrive home, drink a beer and look at teacher blogs, adding thirty seven ideas to my week.
And then I sleep, wake up, and go back to Kindergarten. Maybe next time it'll be worth writing about the weekend. ;) Locura, te digo.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
I teach firs....I mean Kindergarten?
I teach first grade. This is what I first think when people ask what I do. The 133 sight words, digraphs and blends, shoelace eating, coin counting, 100-chanting, clique-forming comfort that is first grade. Except I don't...I teach Kindergarten. Letter sounds, "Mom" calling, child chasing Kindergarten.
At a new school. In a new place. With new children. New joys. New challenges. A fuller day than first grade for me was, a bigger class, and 6 Transitional Kindergarten students.
I am exhausted all the time. My classroom has little cell phone service, so gone are the days of secretly texting Ms. Sigler, Ms. Amsterdam, or Ms. Henry down the hall about my student coming to them for a stern talking to. Now I can grab my faulty walkie-talkie that makes crazy scratching sounds to which the kids grumpily complain "That's annoying me!" (Guess who taught them that phrase?;) I see little bags forming under my eyes, find 9 o clock to be an increasingly more appropriate time to climb under the covers, and catch myself singing made-up lyrics to freire jacque under my breath more than I care to admit.
There's a certain magic about Kindergarten I try to cultivate or capture for at least one moment a day. I, like so many, tend to focus on the negative moments in the day--the loud voice level, the "STOO-OOPS" that echo in my brain, leaving that permanent scowl line in between my eyebrows...but there is something magical there--the first time a student hears an Elephant and Piggie story, or recognizes a sight word, or even eats a pumpkin seed for the VERY.FIRST.TIME. So exciting! I'm trying to stay excited through it all, to not let the disorganized clutter littering my desk, the stack of Independent Studies waiting to be sent home, the 37 (literal) e-mails I have left to write tonight not get in the way of the most important part...the instruction. Writer's Workshop, Zoophonics, Reader's Workshop, Guided Math, Guided Reading, Inquiry-based Science...I want my students to experience it all...to have rigor, success, excellence, but all with wonder and a kind affect.
Is it strange that I find one of the things that predicts how my day will go is the cadence of my voice? Moreso than ever before...when my voice weaves up and down, loud and soft, in and out, with as little words as ever...I can capture the kids moreso than any other strategy I've ever tried. That's my noticing of the day. We're certainly not "there" yet.. but day by day, I'm learning more and becoming more of all that is Kindergarten.
At a new school. In a new place. With new children. New joys. New challenges. A fuller day than first grade for me was, a bigger class, and 6 Transitional Kindergarten students.
I am exhausted all the time. My classroom has little cell phone service, so gone are the days of secretly texting Ms. Sigler, Ms. Amsterdam, or Ms. Henry down the hall about my student coming to them for a stern talking to. Now I can grab my faulty walkie-talkie that makes crazy scratching sounds to which the kids grumpily complain "That's annoying me!" (Guess who taught them that phrase?;) I see little bags forming under my eyes, find 9 o clock to be an increasingly more appropriate time to climb under the covers, and catch myself singing made-up lyrics to freire jacque under my breath more than I care to admit.
There's a certain magic about Kindergarten I try to cultivate or capture for at least one moment a day. I, like so many, tend to focus on the negative moments in the day--the loud voice level, the "STOO-OOPS" that echo in my brain, leaving that permanent scowl line in between my eyebrows...but there is something magical there--the first time a student hears an Elephant and Piggie story, or recognizes a sight word, or even eats a pumpkin seed for the VERY.FIRST.TIME. So exciting! I'm trying to stay excited through it all, to not let the disorganized clutter littering my desk, the stack of Independent Studies waiting to be sent home, the 37 (literal) e-mails I have left to write tonight not get in the way of the most important part...the instruction. Writer's Workshop, Zoophonics, Reader's Workshop, Guided Math, Guided Reading, Inquiry-based Science...I want my students to experience it all...to have rigor, success, excellence, but all with wonder and a kind affect.
Is it strange that I find one of the things that predicts how my day will go is the cadence of my voice? Moreso than ever before...when my voice weaves up and down, loud and soft, in and out, with as little words as ever...I can capture the kids moreso than any other strategy I've ever tried. That's my noticing of the day. We're certainly not "there" yet.. but day by day, I'm learning more and becoming more of all that is Kindergarten.
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