Teach For America teacher blogs are on Teach For Us Posts

calling all consequences!

els — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 04:29:55 +0000

I need more ideas for individual consequences that aren't disruptive, don't disrupt the flow of the class, and, most importantly, WORK! What do you do that works?

School Improvment Plans and Impossible Homework Assignments. Help!?!

Ms. Math — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 23:17:23 +0000

In one of my classes I have to write a paper about how to improve mathematics instruction at a real school, with real people, and real time constraints. Help? I took this class precisely because I wanted to attempt to put my knowledge into practice and come up with a plan for a school, and after two visits to an excelling K-8 school in a great community I'm at a loss for what to actually suggest to fix their problems in math instruction. The problem with seeing the issues in math education clearly, is seeing how the entire system, teachers, textbooks, culture, parents all feed into a certain way of doing things that hasn't exactly ended well for our mediocre math score country. (i.e. Teaching Gap by Steigler and Heilbert) The school is excellent by many measures and has a student culture to die for-WOW those kids were excited to learn and had great relationships with their teachers. However, the school's teaching practices in mathematics are still resulting in kids who have few meanings for what they are doing despite the best efforts of some bright and well meaning teachers. I spoke to a teacher today and asked her "what would you say if a kid told you he got 11/6ths as an answer to a problem and didn't understand how it made sense to have 11 parts out of 6." She said, "I'd mark him wrong, and explain that you can't have 11 parts out of 6 parts and that is what fractions mean." Well, actually, if you think of 1/6th as the size of a part you get when you cut a length into 6 equal pieces and then make 11 copies of those pieces you get a perfectly workable interpretation. I asked the teacher about the situation where you go 20 miles in 7 minutes. The speed of that object is 20/7 miles per minute and seems reasonable to me. She explained this as not a problem because it was a rate, not a fraction. Sigh. Her various interpretations of the acceptability of "improper" fractions keep rate, proportion, fraction as all very separate ideas. I spoke to another teacher who had a life changing professor in her teaching program and who had experienced some serious parental pushback when she included word problems on quizzes. The problems asked things like "suppose you have 6 cups of flour and each cookie batch needs 3/4 of a cup of flour. How many batches can you make? She didn't go into too many details, but it seemed like the incident left a bad taste in her mouth. The parents wanted math to be all computations all the time. When I listen to the kids in classes the questions they ask are "where do I move this" or "what do I keep the same?." For example one student divided 6^8/6^3 and got 1^5. He explained that 6/6 was one. And you subtract exponents. He's just mixing and matching various rules based on the look of the problem. No matter that 1^5=1 and 6^8/6^3, to someone with meanings for exponents can't possibly be one. I tried to explain to him and he took away "oh, I keep the six" not "oh, I should think about what powers and division mean." The Glencoe textbook does have some nice higher order thinking questions but the bulk of their work is straight computations and allows kids to get by without meanings. So here is my dilemma: I have no proof but what teachers say, but I have reason to guess that some of the teachers approach math in a computational way instead of with attention to what operations tell us about the world. How can I go into a school and suggest that there are alternative meanings for what people teach that they don't know? Isn't it insulting to suggest a teacher needs to revisit their meanings for fraction when they teach it all day long? How do I get the teachers to see what I see-advanced eighth graders writing nonsense answers and having no meanings to judge what they are doing? And what do I do about the parents? I know I can't suggest that teacher send word problems home and problems that ask for critical thinking skills if the parents will just revolt and say "that is not math." I don't want to make these teachers' lives miserable. I remember the debacle I experienced clearly enough to know better. And the resources-I think the teachers I talked to who are really trying to build meanings are thwarted by homework sets and assessments that allow kids to do well without understanding. Kids can tune out the explanation and get the book work done. Some of them make their own questions and work, but that takes TIME and it's in short supply, especially if I want these same teachers to be leaders for the rest of the staff in mathematics. I think my solution will involve incremental change. Parents can tolerate a few strange assignments asking for quantitative meanings. And if the Pelham Math debacle(see earlier posts) has taught me anything that lots of teachers probably have unproductive interpretations of new teaching methods and can misinterpret well-meaning and researched curriculum. In any case-how do I convince people who don't have the meanings in Common Core that they actually need to learn more math that they thought they knew? How do I convince teachers that what they are doing that works in the short term has resulted in many kids without strong meanings for basic operations? How do I fit any sort of plan for professional development into the school day? How could I ask anyone to spend a fraction of the time I do thinking about this? I honestly don't presume to think I have a solution.

Up and running.....

Mr. G — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 23:13:35 +0000

It seems as though I probably should have written sooner, but I haven't. Forgive me. Since the semester started, things have been a little crazy. I have decided to fully commit myself to the TPRS teaching method which means that at least 50% and pushing upwards of more is in the foreign language. It takes a lot of energy from me, and a lot of thinking on my feet. I would say I am currently having about 50% success with it. My 3rd, 6th, and 7th periods really are buying into it and the results are visible or them. My 4th period and 5th period classes can not behave well enough for me to be in the language without having to break out to discipline them. And 2nd period is slowly getting into it. Even though my rate isn't that great - I am keeping with it. I can see the results. My students writing and speaking is improving much faster than it ever has. They are beginning to grasp grammar concepts that they had not previously. I am proud of them. It also forces me to slow down and spend more time on the various words which means all my students - fast and slow processors are able to get the information they need. What has been difficult is my illness. I had a throat/chest cold last week. This week it is a head cold. I was miserable last week. And I was rather cruel in my classroom. Joy factor = 0. I just wanted them to sit down and shut up and listen to the little voice I had left. Most of my students thought I hated them. I didn't hate them, I just hated how they were acting. This week I have been getting back to myself. I am laughing and joking. I just want my kids to realize learning a language is fun, but also that it is serious. We only have 55 days left until the end of the year test and I am getting afraid about how prepared we are...... All that said, I love my kids. One of the kids I love to death thought I hated him (and I told him he made me mad last week, so it was rightly so), so this morning I sat down and chatted with him about some life issues and then I explained to him that I will never hate him. I might not like how he acts in class or what he says, but I will always love him and be there for him. And another student who I was never particularly close with I've been talking to. He is one of the quietest and sweetest kids I've ever met. Also one of the smartest. I talked to him one-on-one for like 15 minutes today and he explained how he wasn't sure about college or if he could get in, if it was for him, etc. I just told him I knew he would do whatever he set his mind to because he was so smart and dedicated. He got a big smile on his face and just said ok. So, while my methods are challenging. And I have been sick for two weeks. What I do know is that I still love my kids. It's G, the first mentioned above, and J, the second mentioned above, who keep me going back every day. My kids will learn Spanish, and will have mannnnyyyy opportunities open to them because of it.

On wanting more...

miriam — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 22:32:53 +0000

Another blog post so soon. I know. Crazy. So one of my students asked me today why I have been in such a bad mood lately. And why I have been so mean. After thinking about it for a while, I decided to give an honest to god put it all out there answer. I have been in a bad mood and I have been mean because I want more for my kids than they want for themselves. All I want is for them to want more. I want them not to settle for being mediocre. I want them to walk into the principal's office and complain every time a teacher chooses to waste valuable class time over and over again because they are just waiting for 3:15. I want their actions to reflect some sort of ambition. I want them to appreciate the teachers who have expectations for them instead of rebelling. I want them to actively choose to have a better future than the one they are on track for right now. So THAT is why I have been so mean recently. I want them to want everything for themselves that I want for them. I want them to change their lives. With that in mind, I have a favor to ask from every person who reads this blog, whether or not I know you. If you are so inclined, take 5 to 10 minutes and write a paragraph about why you chose to work hard in high school. Or if you didn't work hard in high school, why you worked hard in college. Or if you never worked hard until you got out of school, why you wish you had. I plan to present these to my students, one at a time. Even if it makes a difference to ONE kid, you will have changed a life. My email is miriam.r.kaplan@gmail.com Thanks in advance for helping make my classroom a better place!

Pretenses.

Caroline — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 22:29:04 +0000

Thank God it's Friday, for my kids' sake more than my own. Today I was downright a word I wouldn't publish in a blog, and I could feel it. I could feel the poison seeping out of me, negativity washing down my face, pushing the frizz off the side of my head, weighing down each finger, infecting my Smartboard markers and turning all my words and glances toxic. I knew I was in a bad place this morning, but it was a hurtling train. It was a vase two inches from shattering on the ground. I couldn't stop it. First and second period I did what I could. I held silence more often than I cut down children. I used hand motions more than consequences, because even I knew I wasn't always being fair, or impartial. I was in a bad mood, and taking it out on them by issuing strict management based on reducing irritation, not maximizing learning. Bottom line: not good for kids. I can't shake the death of this little Detroit girl, and I'm reminded each time a student asks me about it, or hands me a dollar bill for the flowers. Our second-period conversation yesterday sunk my heart deep into my other organs-- stifled pumping and in the dark. I just want to sleep. I just want to lay down in the rain. I just want to be alone. At lunch I went home for a ten minute break. I left the building knowing I had to change something before lunch was over. I thought through my very ill-planned lesson and clarified my key points (solution one), I reminded myself that every day is a work in progress, that teaching has no quick fix (simultaneously most frustrating and gratifying quality of the profession), I took a deep breath and tried to sing with the radio. I remembered I love my job. When I returned I told the boys waiting at my door that I was sorry for being late (there are three of them that come daily to help me with my class library). Dar answered, "I know what will put you in a good mood!" "What?" "CHOCOLATE!" I started laughing, and completely agreed. Except I promised myself that after last month's malnutrition, I'm eating zero sweets until (at earliest) March 1st. Though chocolate likely would have helped. A lot. A few minutes later, as I walked to Reading Teacher's room to help with GradeQuick in the minutes before recess ended, I thought about Dar's comment and laughed again. He was so genuine and automatic, and yesterday he asked what I would do if I wasn't a teacher. Just a thoughtful kid. I found out a few days ago, and I hate even typing this, that I was nominated for a TFA award in my region. Ironic that my MTLD told me the same day I wrote a post about not getting recognition from TFA, and not deserving it. Finding out about the nomination gave me a dull curiosity, wondering who filled it out, who was considering my classroom, who had the capacity to compare me to anyone else. A few hours later, she texted that I was a semi-finalist, and the curiosity turned into a kind of nausea. Like in that story by Sartre when everyone's in a prison cell waiting to be put to death, and one character gets let off by sheer accident. I felt like the guy that got let off. I don't deserve this. I've committed too many teaching crimes to be recognized for something good. I was too stern with my kids today. I didn't plan for my kids today. My kids haven't internalized big goals; they still sigh when I fake-cheerfully exclaim, "Today we're writing outlines! We're writing what?!" Life trajectory status: stagnant. Transformational teacher I am not. Not saying I don't want to be, I just believe with some certainty that I'm not at this moment. Then I found out that this semi-finalist thing is pretty involved. And that their are 8 of us, from an initial 75. More serious than I thought it would be. This has added to my negativity in the classroom (sounds backwards, I know). I walk in expecting my class already is what it should be and what I've been working for, but it's not. A classroom is not creating a work of art and admiring it, or writing a paper and getting an A. This award is not like the accidental scholarships from college, where someone notices you and hands you a check on stage then never says anything to you again. This is to see a living, breathing, changing result of your daily interactions inside the brains of rooms full of miniature people. The whole point of teaching is to continually improve, to continually learn, to be in perpetual motion. Teaching is ... to cultivate a garden? To manage a waterfall? To gently shape the evolution of so many tiny humans. It's impossible. It's a penny in a wishing well. I'm not usually pessimistic, but I'm not good at acknowledging praise-- especially when I don't agree with it. I hate when my family tells me I'm a good teacher more than anything on earth; the people who have never seen my students, who don't understand my curriculum, who don't know the knowledge locked in my brain, the ideas I never execute, the things I know I need to bring up to the leadership team and haven't, the procedures I haven't taught. They don't understand the difference between the potential me-teacher, and the current me-teacher, and how the latter is a drastic failure in comparison. I love my job. I love and believe in my kids more than anything I have ever loved in my life. It is because of this that this award is tearing me down. I don't deserve recognition because I am not doing enough. Because I still walk into school without a plan some days, because I still mis-manage students, because I am not giving these kids their way out-- and I know I can be doing this. I know a great teacher can. I know that the reason I'm inching toward 80% positive I'm staying in Dumas next year is because I know it's possible and I want to be it, but I'm not there yet. Not even close.

Chasing Cars

Lauren — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 20:22:11 +0000

I told Facebook; now the only place left to tell is my blog, my sadly neglected little blog: I've been accepted to law school - UConn and University of Oklahoma. Everyone expects me to be overjoyed; I expected me to be overjoyed. But I feel like the dog who chases cars. He wouldn't have any idea what to do with the car if he caught it. I caught the car, but I don't know what to do with it, yet. Next fall still seems far away, and the March financial aid deadlines and the April decision deadlines seem very close. While polishing the thrice-polished personal statement last night and writing what the Yale admissions blogger refers to as the "250-word Albatross," and riding the fine line between justification and whining on the addenda and wondering how pompous the concluding paragraph in my personal statement sounds and deciding how much of my misspent youth needs explanation and how much I should just breeze past and hope the admissions committee doesn't notice, I hit the Faulkner singularity, the point at which all logic diminishes into a single point of stream-of-consciousness. I was Granny Weatherall - am I standing up or lying down? who are all of you people and where are Hapsy and John? What the hell am I writing on that page there? Did I brush my teeth this morning? Perhaps this is why I haven't gotten truly excited yet - because I'm deranged.

Snow Day!

mathinaz — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 18:10:57 +0000

It's 11am on a Friday and I'm still in my pajamas. I am not sick, nor did I have to lie to anyone about being sick. I'm not even spending the day worrying about how my kids are behaving for the substitute. Today is a snow day. I'm home, my kids are home, and it's beautiful outside. This is possibly the best concept ever. I am never going back to Arizona.

100 days in

tarheelintulsa — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 05:59:51 +0000

"And, oh, I think we should point out that this is their 100th day of teaching!" After counting sets of 100 Apple Jacks all day and running around making pretty awful 100-themed decorations, I appreciated this split-second recognition by one of my classroom moms. Lord knows that had already crossed my mind a lot...earlier today, when we added the 100th straw to our little class collection and carefully counted in Spanish all the way up, I sat there drinking in every sweet second --- yeah, okay, they had gotten through 100 days of school. More impressively, I had gotten through 100 days of school. :P Oh, one crazy thing I heard today: "You have a password on your iPhone now, Srta. Guerra? You didn't before!!" .....??!?!?!?!? One sweet thing I heard today: "While Jimmy has been home sick this week he keeps saying that you must be missing him because he's been missing you." Also, I think blew this one girl's mind today talking about how pigs (i.e. Wilbur) eat slop and sleep in manure. It honestly seemed like she was starting to see the whole world differently...like nothing she knew before made any sense with this new information about pigs. Could that possibly be the aspect of Charlotte's Web that has made it a classic? Pigs - drum roll - they eat leftovers and roll around in poop.

Lessons in Humilty (and fun!)

wiseowlleader — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 01:04:11 +0000

In tutoring today, the kids started reviewing multiplication. Some kids were ahead on their work, so I pulled out my multiplication flash cards to keep them busy while the others finished up the assignment. One of the girls loves to prove she's better than others a lot- a trait I've witnessed several times in tutoring sessions. Everyone still seems to like her, but after the fifth side comment of "Yeah, I'm on my ELEVENS for times!" while the other kids looked down at their small piles of correctly guessed flash cards, I had a wonderful idea. ::Passes all the cards to boy student:: Me: Ok. Why don't I take you on. ::The three other kids start oooooooo-ing and laughing:: Girl: WHAT? That's not fair. Me: Sure it is. Let's just play a few rounds. ::Boy student flips cards up over and over:: Me: 8, 27, 56, 42, 81, 36, 63.... ::Everyone (including the girl) laughs hysterically:: Girl: ::throws arms up in surrender:: Okay, I'm done. I don't want to play anymore. You win. Me: It's okay. Someday you'll be able to beat me, too. Sometimes I think kids need to remember to be humble and laugh at themselves. Hopefully I got this across, and we all had a blast at the end of the session. I know my Principal said tutoring needs to be all business, but those kids (and me) just needed a laughing break today :)

love love love!

mathinatlanta — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 00:52:11 +0000

I have two classes of kids who failed Math 2 last semester. There are a few kids who failed because of their attitudes and refusal to turn in homework, maybe attendance issues. But the vast majority of these students failed math because they genuinely struggle with math. They lack so much of the basics, they were unable to keep up with the rest of the kids last semester. These kids are amazing. Just today, I had two kids skip their lunch for extra help. Yesterday I had three kids skip lunch. At least ten come to after school tutorials every Tuesday and Thursday. They actually cry when they fail a quiz. They turn in every homework assignment, and ask for more practice. You think I am exaggerating here- making up some story to make me sound incredible and transformational, but I am not. I am not making this up, nor am I incredible or transformational. These kids are incredible. I don't know why or how, but they are. They want so bad to understand math, and to not fail. After school today, J stayed to make up a quiz in which he got a 20%. The only reason he missed so many, is because he didn't understand that a minus sign in front of a parentheses changes ALL the signs on the inside. He also tried to some weird Flip Keep Change thing that someone taught him in middle school that doesn't make any sense. After a 5 minute lesson on negative numbers, he got it. He re-took the quiz and got a 100. I was so proud of him, I didn't think I could get any prouder of anyone in my entire life. Until he stays after school longer to help another girl, Sweet M, who wanted to retake her quiz. He explained everything in Spanish to her. She retook the quiz and got an 85%, an incredible growth from her initial 65%. Also, I dislike my seniors.

What goes up

Caroline — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 22:21:10 +0000

I need to go outside, stand in the sun for a while. Read 1Q84 for a while, call my sister. I'm friends with a chunk of TFA Detroit, and as a result my kids are pen-pals with a nice bunch at a charter. Yesterday talking with a Detroit CM, I learned one of our pen-pals died Tuesday evening. She was at home, inside, when three bullets came through her door and into her "skull and ribcage" as stated in the news. While the CM is understandably numb, I started crying immediately. One thing that I've developed since my own mom died is empathy for death, and those grieving. What if that was one of my mine? What would that girl have been as an adult? What future did we just lose? And then we push from this one incident to all kinds of global problems, to death all over, to systems that are broken-- but I can't get this girl out of my head. I decided to tell all my classes (she was one of my student's pen-pal, after all), and ask them to donate anything they want to so I can send flowers to Detroit, and maybe send some cash to the family. All classes were visibly shaken, but after 4 minutes of processing, we moved on to other things. Letting these kinds of conversations fall into the classroom feels dangerous. It's filled with emotional liability, skipped standards, and irresolvable issues. But what is school teaching if we're not teaching how to cope with arguably the one certainty of life? Death is guaranteed to everyone, and when asked, about 80% of my kids can tell you they've seen quite enough of it already, at 12. Second period was not done in four minutes. Second period was the first class I told, and it was hard for me to not cry, which incited an emotional response. Students volunteered to tell the class that they wanted to send cards, that they have felt death, too, that they had had hard times. But the ultimate gamechanger was when New Girl raised her hand. New Girl is from North Carolina, is bigger than most, is incredibly articulate, clearly knows the difference between wrong and right, and will explain her thinking to anyone, asked or not. The difference between New Girl and similar personalities at my school, is that New Girl is not a bully, she's a reverse bully. She bullies bullies into thinking differently, to looking at their own actions. New Girl (roughly): I want to say something about our class. There is someone in this class that gets bullied all the time. This person just got out her own dollar to donate to a girl who died, because she is kind. There is another person in this class who always bullies her. Who just did, by saying something about her dollar. [Note, said bullied girl is visibly impoverished, said bully is constantly muttering his under his breath, trying to get a laugh. The entire class knew exactly who she was talking to.] I want to tell that person that they are doing the wrong thing. That person is trying to be funny, is trying to get people to like him, but it's the wrong thing to do. It is not funny. And you don't know what you are causing. Sometimes people are bullied until they commit suicide. At my old school, there were these two white boys that got called nerds all the time. They came to school with guns. They hurt people. Just for being called nerds! You never know how someone is going to respond to you bullying them. People will kill themselves ... She went on for probably five whole minutes. The class was in awe. This girl has been here for less than two weeks, and has such clarity and insight into the class, such guts and integrity, she saw a problem and held her classmates accountable. I firmly believe hearing something like that from a peer is phenomenally more effective than from a teacher. I wasn't reprimanding the boy, another student was. All I could think after the first minute was that there is nothing I want more than for this girl to become a teacher. From there, the class took off. One by one, more and more students raised their hands and shared their thoughts. One girl's older sister was killed as a by-product of bullying. One boy saw his uncle get shot and had his own life threatened multiple times. Another girl's sister attempted to over-dose after bullying at work. Another girl burst into tears about worry for her grandfather, another girl explained that her own disabled grandfather was drowned when someone pushed him in a pond as a prank, the boy who greets me every day with a hug quietly said through watery eyes, "I want to thank her for telling us this story, because I think she said it very well." After 20 minutes of hand-raising sharing, I allowed students to vote: write about what you feel, talk in small groups, or talk in a full group. It was unanimous that students wanted to keep as a group, wanted to feel the family. We moved our desks from groups to a circle, and I abandoned any idea of a lesson plan. While about 3/4s of the class shared, every single student was attentive, caring, and dead serious for the entire class period. Though I know these things happen all the time, in classrooms everywhere, it was terrifying. I've never facilitated a discussion like this, never felt confident enough that I could handle the emotional weight and positive-thinking required to manage the grief of so many children. I'm not a counselor. I'm not here to solve emotional problems. But one of our classroom goals is to listen, speak, act and write like junior high students and today's standard was speaking and listening to be heard. My students rarely work out issues rationally, rarely know what anyone else is dealing with, rarely get to relate on this level. Teacher breakthrough, undoubtedly. But I don't feel good about it. I feel tired. I feel sad. I feel again washed out by a giant wave-- once management gets better, content becomes an issue; once content is stronger, emotions tear through. Maybe this is the Bloom's of teaching: environment, content, emotional breakthrough. I will say that by the end of class I felt like those students were genuinely a family, we were a family. For the last minute, as we put desks back, I told them to find someone that makes them feel safe and give them a hug or a handshake. To feel some connection, to feel less alone, to feel like even though this is harder than any standardized test we are all going through it, we are all human, we all have something to say and we are all going to be heard.

I teach.

amdipuh — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 15:08:37 +0000

I teach! I'm strongly considering using the note card confession trend as an introduction during the first week or so. Click the link for a video my colleagues created. I cant figure out how to embed the video here.

One of those days...

eminnm — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 05:01:53 +0000

OK, so today was the proverbial roller coaster of awesome and awful. In points to speed along:

Start the day with my kids NOT LISTENING at all. As in, I explain something, or I give directions, or I remind them for the umpteenth time that Napoleon (who shows up in our story about Egypt…long story) was a French war hero who won lots of battles, and ten seconds later, “Wait, who’s Napoleon?” UGH. Repeating yourself gets old.
Continue the day with them NOT UNDERSTANDING MAPS. OK, this is not their fault and isn’t bad-kid behavior, but it’s still super frustrating. Over and over we go over the sentence frame, “Austin is ______________ of Houston,” and how to fill in the direction (north, southeast, etc.). Over and over and over. Still they do it backwards. Over and over and over. See #1 about how much they were listening to my explanations.
Progress to Math where they ROCK at measurement, completely unexpectedly. They do fine with my interactive fun team activity, keep it together to consider types of measurement, and then are adorably, inexplicably in love with GallonBot, who is a modern, “grown-up 4^th grade” version of their 3^rd grade friend, Mr. Gallonman. Plus they know how to use him to convert units of capacity, which is the whole point. We weren’t even supposed to get to him until tomorrow, so go kids for moving quick.
Lunch Bunch with 5 of my kids is cute and hilarious in a truly funny way, not even an I’m-laughing-because-you’re-9-and-think-it’s-funny way. I remember that I really do love my kids. And I notice with pleasure that their ability to express what they mean in full sentences is growing.
Going over yesterday’s math test is only helpful if they listen to what I’m explaining. Which, as per #1, they do not. Sigh.
Health Break (i.e. Recess for the diabetes-prone). All heck breaks loose. The other 2 4^th grade teachers are at a training for the afternoon, so their kids are all nuts because they have subs. One of my kids loses his recess tomorrow for being a punk about kickball (cutting, making fun of kids). This kid, who used to be in my class but was moved for behavior reasons, kicks the ball away instead of bringing it in when it’s time (also may or may not have been aiming at my head…) and then is hugely disrespectful when I talk to him about it.
Reading Group. One of my kids may or may not have stolen a fancy pencil from another kid’s desk. He denies it after much questioning, and the only witness I have is one of my kids who is a notorious liar. Great. Also I learn later this kid, who’s really a good kid, has recently been talking a lot about gangs and ICP (Insane Clown Posse, this band that’s popular with kids here, who sings a lot about murdering people with machetes. Charming) and was found with an iPhone and cash despite not being able to afford that.
Writing Time. During a brainstorm conversation about whether it is better to seek glory or knowledge (our next writing prompt), this kid, who at the beginning of the year was practically nonverbal, raises her hand in something other than Math (and that doesn’t happen often either) for literally THE FIRST TIME ALL YEAR. She VOLUNTEERED to speak!!!!! I was so incredibly excited I almost did a little happy dance in the middle of class.
End of the Day. As I’m meeting with kids for 30 seconds each to go over report cards, one of my boys decides to take the stapler from the back table, open it, and use it as a gun to shoot staples at other students. Later I learn from someone who subbed for me that last week he made a sharp paper dagger and drew blood on it. Then he lies to me and tells me he was stapling a paper, when I saw him with my own eyes. I am so incredibly furious at him, because he knows better and because this behavior is so completely and totally unacceptable, that I can’t even talk to him.
My girls basketball team goes to our first tournament. The girls play FANTASTICALLY. They listen, they play a zone defense, they fight for rebounds. They are awesome. And I remember why I coach basketball: even though it takes so much time, even though I really don’t have that time to spend, I love it. It makes me happy when the rest of the day made me insane.

Always End on a Good Note

wiseowlleader — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 04:41:10 +0000

Although most days go well, this afternoon my class quickly became more of a chess game- I had to keep moving kids around because they could not control themselves. During an hour period, one girl was moved to my extra "time-out" desk in the front because she was disturbing her table group. Another boy was sent to the back of the room because he refused to stay on pace with the class and kept going ahead on the assignment and shouting "I KNOW THE ANSWER!" While this boy kept shouting his accomplishments, I had a girl at another table crying softly because she was frustrated trying to keep up with the assignment- even though we were doing it as a class. I think she was overtired because she knows how to add pretty well. Instead of crying, another girl would shout out "I don't get it!" before I even had a chance to explain each problem. Right after math, I told two girls to stop chatting and work, but when one wouldn't listen and was caught talking again for the 10th time that day, I sent her to another class. She is usually a good student, so this was hard to get as mad as I needed to be. In the 60 seconds I left the room to put her in another class, another girl had burst into tears because she said someone was bullying her. The culprit was a girl who five minutes earlier came back from Creek language class almost in tears saying her ear hurt so bad. I didn't write her a nurse's pass when I got back, because she wasn't crying anymore, seemed fine, and apparently had the energy to pick on someone else. So as the last half hour rolled around and all my kids were back from Creek language class, I was done. I typed up a letter to parents saying that this afternoon was very bad, and that kids were talking, not following directions, and picking fights instead of learning. The catch is I wrote it from a student's perspective- admitting these issues as if I had done them as part of the class. I projected the letter to the class and told them to take out a sheet of paper and pencil and copy it. I also stated that they needed to bring it back signed tomorrow, and to explain to their parents that EVERYONE wrote the same letter. I didn't want parents calling worried their kid is the cause of everything- today was genuinely a class effort. After these instructions, it was absolutely *silent* in my class for the next 15 minutes. No one complained or asked questions. Everyone just sat and copied with not so much as a sigh. I was so impressed by this that I gave them a class marble (they earn marbles as a reward for good behavior as a class) and let them all clip up once on the behavior chart. I told them I was very happy that they accepted a punishment without complaint instead of making it worse. A lot of kids at my school, especially in the upper grades, tend to make bad situations worse. I always try to reward my kids for turning around bad decisions. I also know that part of today's failure was my lack of sleep, so I made sure to hug all of my kids today before I left and told everyone that tomorrow we will start fresh. I would work on being more patient and nice, and they would work on staying focused. They all got excited about this and wanted to tackle me in a group hug. We ended up leaving the classroom joking and shouting our wise owl chant: Who are we? Wise owls. What do we do? Learn a lot! Who are we? Wise owls! What do we do? MAKE GOOD CHOICES! I <3 my wise owls. They honestly make me a better person.

between who you are and who you could be

els — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 03:59:30 +0000

I don't know what my deal is. I've been in a funk all week, and I'm trying to figure out why. I feel like I'm going through the same cycle of emotions that I went through first semester, and this is the equivalent of September. I'm going through the whole I'm-jealous-of-every-single-person-on-my-facebook-newsfeed thing, and it's easy to slip into that martyr mentality. I think I'm just super burned out -- maybe that's it. Lately I've felt lazy -- like I'm putting in the minimum amount of effort at work, and that includes classroom management. Because I've been too lazy to do individual consequences, I've been relying too much on whole-group consequences instead of targeting individual behavior at its source. My classes are wearing me out even more because I'm not being proactive enough in discipline. As to my teacher persona, I'm questioning everything again. This really does feel like September again in a lot of ways. I've had a few ho-hum days coupled with being exhausted and burned out, and I'm probably taking myself way too seriously. There's no way I could have suddenly become a horrible teacher in the last week or so, and all of the other teachers have been commenting on how hyper the kids have been lately, so maybe it's not just me. I observed another teacher last week, and I was compelled by her management style. She runs a tight ship. She teaches 5th grade math, and the class I saw was fairly traditional. The students were SILENT. I didn't even know that was possible. They interacted with her and asked questions and were engaged, but they DIDN'T TALK. It made me wish I could start my classes all over again, and set much higher standards for behavior. For this teacher, "acting out" was clicking a pen. The thing is, my style of teaching is a little more relaxed -- I have things that bug me, and I don't tolerate those, but I wouldn't call myself strict. I definitely need to be stricter, and I think I need to separate strictness from harshness in my mind. You can be strict be still be warm and fun, right? In an effort to look at this objectively, I'm going to think about how other teachers/students at my school see me. They would say that I'm nice, and that I'm always very calm. I'm famous for never yelling. I'm a very popular teacher -- I stopped by to talk to one of the English teachers today, and the kids in his class went nuts. "Ms. S! Ms. S! I wish I was in your class!" "She's my favorite teacher!" "Yeah, she's so nice..." etc. etc. etc. I have some students that don't trust other teachers, but trust me. My demeanor is steady and consistent -- I work really hard to be patient and calm in every interaction, and I think my kids appreciate that. On the other hand, I'm inconsistent in classroom management. I'm not passionate about math -- at best I can manufacture some canned enthusiasm. I'm too passive sometimes. There are some students that I'm just not reaching. The danger of TFA, maybe, is that it takes normal day-to-day teaching problems and makes me think I'm a horrible person and a lousy teacher. You can't have emotional objectivity and be in TFA. They make you feel too guilty all of the time. I also can't compare myself to other teachers. And I have to take care of myself. None of this stay-up-late, live-on-diet-coke-and-mac-n-cheese nonsense. I have to get enough sleep, eat healthy, and -- God forbid -- exercise! I guess I've been violating one of my own rules: never think about your life when you're hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. I'm doing my very best, and I'm good enough. Freaking out and becoming a pessimist isn't going to help anything. Was January surprisingly difficult for anyone else?

Hold Hands Not Grudges?

TonyBontheMIC — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 00:53:53 +0000

"For every minute you are angry, you lose sixty seconds of happiness." ~Author Unknown This post will be short- almost as short as my temper was when I discovered that my new phone had been "lost" by my local FedEx two weeks ago. Basically, I was finishing up a great week shortened due to the MLK Holiday. As I wrote about in a previous post, my school was visited by Bess the Book Bus, which provided over 4oo books to my school. However, two days later when I inquired why I had not received my package, which was indicated to have arrived in my town on the 13th, I was sketchily informed it had been "lost." That was on the 19th. I was livid. I don't get angry easily. Now, I don't intend to sound like a spoiled kid. But I already felt slighted by the forces of Capitalism that I needed to buy a phone in the first place. Throughout college, I was proud of myself for taking care of my phone for the two years necessary to get a discounted upgrade. I kept my Droid, despite its flaws, and we got along fine. However, this past summer, I wanted to reward myself for being frugal for so long and buy a new phone to help me become more productive. I bypassed the iPhone for a few reasons, namely their uncertain product roll out timeline. I soon became an unsuspecting owner of a Droid 3, which I'll just say was so awful from the start that Motorola/Verizon already started marketing the Droid 4 to replace it until they acknowledged they'd tee'd off people like myself. Anyway, I held out until Christmas, when I gave my iPod Touch to my bro with the intention of getting an iPhone 4S... Okay, I'm venting. Long story short: I tried to give the sketchy folks at Fed Ex the benefit of the doubt, but my multiple conversations with them at the location and on the phone were a waste of my time and I felt disrespected and let down as a customer. I don't condemn all of Fed Ex, but I'm struggling with resentment towards our local branch. Am I wrong for wanting some sort of greater retribution than a replacement? Apple can afford to ship another one but I don't have $400 Billion and I over two weeks of productivity and parent phone calls due to the mishap. Apple is still investigating since I contacted them when Fed Ex was unresponsive. Thanks to UPS, I have my phone now, but am I in the right to call upon the Better Business Bureau and whomever else can do something worthwhile with a form complaint? "Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die." ~Malachy McCourt Honestly, I think my bigger issue in all this is the feeling of helpless I got when I felt like I was constrained, couldn't do anything, an had to rely on the competency (or lack thereof) of others. I'm tired of having to compensate for and suffer from the incompetence of others. Anyway, I agree with Lyman Abbott's sentiment: "do not teach your children never to be angry; teach them how to be angry." Going forward, I'm less angry about my lack of compensation and more frustrated that my students live in an area where people steal like that. I'm careful not to over-generalize about people because of one (or a group) of workers errors / immorality. However, I can say that never happened to me in Maine or Massachusetts... again, it is not about what happened to me, and more about what will happen to my kids. They deserve better. Once more, I find myself at a crossroads. I'm angry, but I'm angry at the entire environment in addition to the specific situation. "The world needs anger. The world often continues to allow evil because it isn't angry enough." ~Bede Jarrett

Copy Machines Woes

mathinatlanta — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 11:29:11 +0000

There are loads of things I could come up with to complain about the pubic school system, but the one thing that infuriates me beyond words is the lack of working copying machines at my school! We have two, one nice one and one old one. I worked at a law firm for three years prior to teaching, and became a pro at copy machine servicing. I can remove jams, I can load toner, I can load staples, I can call the service company and demand they come fix the problem (that I was unable to fix) in less than 2 hours. If the secretaries couldn't make copies, the lawyers couldn't file their papers, we then would lose clients, and wouldn't make money. It was very important that our copy machines worked and were well stocked (with paper, toner, and staples). Copies machines are my school are always out of toner, or out of staples. We haven't actually ever had staples since the beginning of school. Now, both machines are broke. It is looked down upon to constantly give your students worksheets, so many of the teachers just have their kids work out of the books. I find the books to be ridiculous and filled with errors, so I make tons of copies. And yet, this morning, I can't. Luckily, I was trying to make copies of a test that I plan to give on Friday, so the copy machines have two days to work, or I have two days to find a Kinkos. I don't know who is in charge of servicing our copy machines, but if they would just give me the responsibility- I am sure I could decrease the down time of these machines. I know I could. It isn't hard to make sure they are in working order. Or at least ONE is in working order.

Project: Parents

mathinaz — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 05:54:48 +0000

I'm trying not to let the new misbehavior in my class ruin the learning for the rest of the kids. Tempting as it is, I don't want to stop everyone just to lecture the 5 bad kids like I would have my first year. I want to keep things going, I want to get back some positive momentum, and I don't want them to destroy everything I've built this year. From experience, I know how fast things can go down hill, so I also want to squash all of this insanity right now. It's only been two days, and that's already two days too many. This was probably not the right thing to do, but at my old school I very quickly stopped using parents as a threat. There was a really strong No Snitching culture, and tattling to parents just felt weak. Plus, phone numbers were disconnected more often than not and my really tough kids were long past the point of being controlled by the adults in their homes. But this year, my kids are younger and they're still terrified of their parents. I also read a great management book a few months ago (With All Due Respect by Ronald Morrish), which advised calling the parents with a constructive request rather than just sounding like you want them to do your discipline for you. (Can you find out if something's going on with him? Can you make sure she's getting enough sleep? Can you re-inforce this at home?) I'm much more comfortable phrasing things that way than feeling like I'm just whining to other adults. And really, I'm terrified of losing my awesome classes and I'm willing to try anything before it really gets bad. So today, I completely stopped class for only a couple minutes to address the behavior. I told them that I was trying not to slow down the rest of class and that I would address them this once and never again during class time. (SO IMPORTANT to keep the good kids on your team. They get so frustrated when all you do is yell.) I told them that their actions were obnoxious, and if I couldn't get them to stop on my own then I was going to enlist help.

I will call your parents every day if I need to. If that doesn't work, I'll invite them to come in and sit with you in class to babysit. If you still can't function, you can sit in the hall for class time and I'll bring the work to your house for your parents to teach you. Are we clear?

Now that I've made that threat, I have to back it up. I spent most of this evening on the phone with parents, none of whom I'd ever spoken to before. First, I got the bad kids' parents on my side: "It's the strangest thing! He's been so great all year and has been doing really well in math. I'm not sure what's gotten into him, but he really can't act like this in my classroom. Is there anything I should know? Can you try to find out what's going on?" Then, I also tried to get some positive momentum going by calling my best students' parents too. Those are the phone calls I never think to make, because I always just assume those parents know how great their children always are. But of course, parents love to hear nice words about their children. "I'm just calling to let you know how incredible your daughter is every single day. She's a hard worker, she's always respectful, she's kind to her classmates, she's extremely good at math, and she's genuinely a joy to have in the classroom" are words that can actually bring adults to tears. It's cute and has the added benefit of helping me remember how wonderful most of my kids are. And for their sakes, I'm ready to battle to win my class back.

What Makes a Good Friend- From an 8-year-old Perspective

wiseowlleader — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 05:38:52 +0000

I tutor third graders on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and they tend to ask random questions about my class. Today the following conversation came up: Hailey: I wonder if you have any Haileys in 2nd grade. Me: I know there is a Kaley next door, but I haven't heard of a Hailey. Hailey: I know there is a Zaley! Me: Yes. She's in my class. Hailey: I know. ::In a "this should seem obvious" tone:: We're friends because we have the same backpack. I love elementary school friendship rules. They are so ridiculously simple. I also had this response on a class survey about your best friend today: Question- What do you like best about your friend? Answer: She knows how to play Barbies right. I am now dying to know- Is there a wrong way to play Barbies?

Brand New Battle

mathinaz — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 05:28:24 +0000

It's official: My kids have gone crazy. Yesterday, the kid I assigned to collect papers said "screw you" to my most volatile kid, who promptly stormed out of my classroom. His best friend, who had been uncooperative all class, decided to turn off his blank stare, stop banging a clipboard into his forehead, and just lie in the doorway waiting for the other boy to come back. The girl who I fight with as though we were mother and daughter picked that same day to sulk in her chair and refuse to take out her materials. This boy who likes to throw fits just whined loudly all class about being too hot, claimed to have a fever, and then got out of his chair, sat on the floor, and possibly cried for the rest of the period. Mind you, I haven't been lying about how fabulous my kids have been all year. I'm also not exaggerating how insane this class period was. I don't know if it's the time of year, or the hormones kicking in, or if the magic has just worn off, or if they've suddenly decided they're sick of me. The rest of the kids are still great, but those five are so out-of-control crazy that it's an enormous uphill battle to get anything positive going in the classroom. It's a great reminder that every day is a brand-new battle with children. You never win enough battles to win the war.

yes, these things actually happen...

missfaleesha — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 02:35:50 +0000

It was a long day. Let me explain two parts of the ridiculous points that happened within just one period. 1. Two of my female students were arguing and yelling back and forth. This happened about twice and I got them to stop and turn around and continue doing the classwork. However, the third time they were standing fairly close and nearly yelling. I intervened, asked and figured out what was happening with them responding in calm voices (reason was pretty minor disagreement on differing perspectives of a situation). While I was still standing there, they started yelling at each other again. This time after I repeatedly asked, they weren't stopping or sitting down. So I started yelling, just a general ahhhhh scream. As they got louder, I got louder. Eventually I was louder than them, and they stopped, and just looked at me. At that point I said, "Yeah I can yell louder than you so sit down and shut up." I'm not proud. Even at the time, I knew it was pretty funny for those witnessing. For clarification, this wouldn't be the way anyone would recommend you dealing with any situation I'm pretty sure. But... it worked. Pure ridiculousness. 2. We used glue sticks today in class. Apparently by the 8th grade, students are not responsible enough to do so however. One of my students opted to coat the entire seat of a student chair with glue and leave it for whoever sat down next. Another student sat down it, figured it out, and changed chairs leaving it empty until of course I sat down on it. Let's just say, I was a little bit upset and felt like I was in a Dennis the Menace cartoon or something. Again pure ridiculousness. I hope you can laugh at this. Between the moments of frustration in my head, I was laughing too. Sometimes I don't even believe these things are actually happening to me. Thankfully, I have a training tomorrow and will get a 24 hour break from my lovely lovely little cherubs.

Untangling my huge knot of emotions...

miriam — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 00:09:43 +0000

Sorry for the really terrible metaphor title for this post. I am no English teacher after all. I haven't written in a really long time. If I have any faithful readers, I apologize. I have been waiting for the right mood. Not necessarily the best or worst mood, but the mood where I feel most ready to capture my long days and even longer moments in a somewhat concise way. Note the word "somewhat." I have spent a lot of time recently thinking about quitting. But more than the logistics of quitting, I have been thinking about what reasons I have NOT to quit. As my best friend told me, if I am trying to convince myself that there are reasons to stay, then I am seriously considering quitting. I don't know whether I agree with that or not, but my thoughts have been consumed with why I am here and whether or not this is the right thing for me personally, my kids, my school, etc. I hate my job. Geometry is actually torture for me. I never did like the subject in high school. (Sorry Mr. Daly, I liked your class just wasn't so keen on the content.) Math in general has always just been so-so for me, and teaching it has made me hate it more than ever. I fake liking it in my classroom and instead of seeing right through that, my kids are actually just convinced that I have the corniest personality in the entire world and that there is no way I had friends in high school. I am totally fine with that. But is hating math in general and geometry specifically why I hate my job so much? I don't think so. I can't put my finger on just why I hate it so much. At the beginning of the year (read: all the way through first semester), I had really bad days. I let the kids get to me. My management was still in its infancy. My class lacked the structure that really helps my kids thrive. Basically, there were days when my room was a hot mess. I am pretty sure nobody learned much of anything. Now, I have bad moments. These bad moments don't really turn into bad days the way they used to. So one class doesn't go as planned? Oh well! The next one will be better. So despite my room actually being better and my kids actually learning a small bit more than nothing, I hate my job. I don't feel like I have figured out how to really impact my students in a meaningful way while teaching math, and I honestly spend a lot of time feeling like a liberal elitist who has come down here to "help" people. And who the hell am I to tell them they need help? I know that is kind of ridiculous, but it is how I feel. Almost every single morning I walk into school feeling like there is no way I can keep doing this job for another year and a half. I question whether teaching is really for me or not, and I wonder whether or not my time would be better spent doing something else. But I manage to make it back to school day after day and do my very best to teach Geometry and hopefully some life skills. Can I do it for another year and a half? I am honestly not sure. Something has to change. The days I can keep myself focused on individual kids and just helping one kid or two kids do something they might not have been able to do otherwise are the days when my job feels the most sustainable. Today was one of those days. Two of my students stayed after school to earn points back on a test. In a one-on-one setting, I feel like a real teacher. I feel like a real "difference maker." I feel like I am doing something worthwhile. I struck a deal with a student, B, who I have been having a LOT of trouble with. All year. His English teacher (another TFA teacher) requires his students to read for 20 minutes a night and write a 1/2 page about what they read. B told me that if I read for 20 minutes a night and write a 1/2 page about it, he will too. Boom. Game on. I ran into another student, M, in the hall after school today. "Are you coming to my room for extra help and to earn points back on your test?! That is so great." He wasn't. His dad was outside waiting, M told me, and he had to go. Could he stay late on Thursday? No, he told me. His dad wouldn't let him. I told him I'm sure if I talked to his dad, he would see things differently. I walked outside with M, re-introduced myself to his dad, and made plans for M to stay after school on Thursday. "M told me you wouldn't want him to stay, but I figured if I asked you myself, you might see it differently. Thank you so much!" The dad proceeded to harass M about why he would tell me he couldn't stay and that for anything having to do with grades he could stay as long as it took for him to do well. Thanks, Dad. Finally, some kids I love, C, J, and S all felt smart today. They don't always feel smart. Putting all the other crap aside, the time I spend with individual kids makes me feel worthwhile. I need to create more of these moments for myself and for my students. That is the current goal. As my roommate Mr. B says, LEGGO.

Lies lies lies...or untruths

CY — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 23:20:17 +0000

If I could give one piece of advice to an incoming CM, I would say never believe what anyone says about which month is the worst or when things get better. You'll hear things like "October is the worst month" and "Everything gets better after winter break." Well I'm here to tell you that for me, these kinds of comments have not predicted anything about my teaching career. January has been the worst month. Things didn't get better after break. In fact, my mood has gotten worse as I've come to realize that things just are not going to get better. Now I know what you're thinking, "Of course they won't get better if you think they won't," but that's just where I am right now. My school is a miserable place. When people hear where I work, their reactions confirm my experience. I get no support. My students don't respect me. No one is happy. I hate going to work and count down the minutes until the day is done. My second period class is just a madhouse, and not just for me but for all of the teachers. There are students in there who have been expelled and gotten sent back by pupil services. Today I thought about quitting for the first time since September.

Less pressure, less fear.

Caroline — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 07:17:11 +0000

Last night I finally went out to dinner with mah girl Miss H, after a much-too-long haitus. Despite teaching at the same school, we answer to different administrators, have separate secretaries, and see each other maybe once a week, for about three seconds. Our dinner turned into a two-hours gab fest, primarily focusing on school vents, school hopes, and next year. Talking to her, I started to feel reignited for my babes. My kids, my administration, my potential, their potential, things I want to see happen. Things I know can happen to help these kids get on paths toward higher goals and higher achievements in life. Seriously. If I stay next year, I will be some students' third TFA teacher since third grade. I wonder if that has a bearing on them? My tendency is to be extremely happy while at school, and at school functions and meetings. Typically. It's the before-school-anxiety, the 10-pm-grading-frustration, the time spent in "real" cities showing me what other directions my life could go in, that tear me away from the district. The most prominent of those is the mornings. I have to moderate my coffee, because if I drink too much or too quick before school my heart races without cease. I watch what time I wake up, because if it's too early I get visibly angry at myself, but if it's too late I feel like I'm incredibly ill-prepared for school. It's the morning, when everything is planning and potential, and what-can-you-get-done-just-before-the-deadline. I realized today, or maybe yesterday, I think as a result of my conversation at the Mexican restaurant, that one of the most amazing opportunities for next year is pressure subsiding. I'll still be working at a failing school, still be held to state tests and sometimes ridiculous procedural expectations, still be feeling like 120 tiny futures are at least partially resting in my hands to be lifted up, but I think a massive pressure will disappear as I become an alumni. It may be the indoctrination of the dire need to be transformational, or the constant success stories and out of this world achievements, or always standing on the first step of a massive, massive staircase of growth... but something about TFA paralyzes me. Or makes me feel like no matter what I do, it will never be enough. Yesterday, though, I think I truly realized that that's not the real world. That I can be as effective as I am and still let myself be happy. That I can know I am working and still not perfect, that I can have whatever scores I have and still try, that if I stay here and am not the best teacher, or getting awards, or being featured for whatever it is TFA features people for, that does not deem me entirely ineffective. That does not make me a failure. I can stay here, and live a quiet life in a small town, and get some high and some low scores, and have some strong and some weak conversations, and still be a worthwhile person. And still be doing a worthwhile thing.

Best Attempts, Best Practices

Miss Farhan — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 04:41:57 +0000

Best Practices for Communication Arts, round 1

18 January 2012 Richardson Professional Development Building - KCPS - unedited notes and commentary as taken by Hannah Marie Farhan

It says Best Practices, and I'm rather ardently hoping for Best Attempts. Evidently I have a LOT to learn. For example, apparently Reciprocal Teaching is a staple piece of knowledge and I, as of yet, have no idea what that is. (It's also the start of class 1, so I feel slightly less horrifically under-trained - possibly as a matter of maintaining opinion-of-self.) We start off the class with the idea of a 'literacy classroom'. My interpretation of 'literacy classroom' - teaching reading comprehension. Consensus? Absolutely not. Laughable. Where does the consensus lie? Teaching reading is one of the hardest things ever. Ever. In summation : when it comes to High Stakes testing, informational text can, will and does out-import narrative texts. My sentiments : poopie-faces.

Ensuite... Kansas City (MO-side) does less than stellar in the following two Missouri learning standards 1 - R2C 2 - R3C R2C reads : Develop and apply skill and strategies to comprehend, anayze and evaluate fiction, poetry and drama from a variety of cultures and times. R3C reads identically, excepting << non-fiction >> in lieu of << ficton, poetry and drama >>. I take issue with the following portion :

<< from a variety of cultures and times >>

What does that even mean?! I welcome opinions/interpretations/clarification (thank goodness fascetious tongue-in-cheek commentary is not transmitted via the written word so bluntly as that echoed in my head...)

Hey, fourth grade, brace yourselves. Kid-friendly Tacitus to accomodate the ancient Roman time and culture parameter. You have 15 minutes. Go.

What do I know about Reciproal Teaching? What are my thoughts? Absolutely nothing. Nič. Nihil. Nullité. 'I had to start thinking about how Reiprocal Teaching looks at K-2.' Yes. Pray tell, how DOES it look? Ever would be so helpful... The answer is, evidently, read alouds. Awesome. (There isn't sarcasm in there so much as despair...) Hey, kiddos, watch me Predict, Question, Clarify and Summarise. Boo-ya. Oh, now you should def-o know how to do it. Have at it. Va-t-en. Picture walks --> name WHAT you are to do (i.e. Predictions) and WHY you're going to do this (i.e. to better understand how events happen in a story) Thoughts: Fair dues.

Note to self - toutes les stratégies vont rester exactement la même chaque année. Les choses qui se changent seront les genres des textes et les niveaux des difficultés qui s'avancent naturellement avec chaque année scolaire. La nécessité de la répétition avec cette type des choses. On a besoin toujours les fondations pour créer le bas pour les enfants - à ce moment, ils peuvent partir des stratégies pour interpreter et vraiment lire les textes suivantes (qui, nécéssairement, vont être plus difficiles). Dans la bataille entre l'aisance et le compréhension, c'était bien sur le compréhension qui sera le plus important - à long-terme - et aussi, bien entendu, lequel qui sera la plus difficile d'enseigner. Note to self (translated post-writing) : All of the strategies used essentially remain the same each year. That which changes is the genre of the texts and the levels of difficulty that naturally evolve with each advancing academic year. Necessity in repetition for such things. One must create the foundational base for the students - such that at this point, they might obtain strategies with with to interpret and truly read forthcoming texts (which, necessarily, will be more difficult). In the contest between fluency and comprehension, comprehension evidently becomes the more important - long-term - et also, naturally, that which is harder to teach.