Bask in the beautiful chaos

I sometimes feel like the primary grades student teachers are plotting against me.  I see them down in their first floor hall, talking and laughing, sharing "something" that must be very funny, and just collaborating in general.

Then there's me, all alone up on the second floor, Hangin' with Mr. Cooper (+2 nerd skill points if you remember that show).  The advantage of being the lone intern upstairs is that I am asked/ allowed/ called upon to hop into other classrooms from time to time, which is cool.  I get to see similar teaching techniques and styles used in different ways.  Here are a couple of those educational nuggets:

In our classroom the "turn & talk" is used in multiple ways, but mostly as a means of creating a full table group discussion (and also creating noise).  This is one of my favorite moments, when the silence of direct instruction explodes into 26 different voices and ideas.  The room saturates with the thoughts of the students.

Yet across the way, I have seen it used mainly as a tool for quiet partner sharing.  Still the same number of ways of understanding being expressed, but more calm.  It all has to do with the teacher comfort level with bringing the kids back, and how well they know their kids can handle the freedom of open discussion.

Then there's the gathering on the floor and lining up for the halls.  One of the classrooms nearby is very structured, and those kid have assigned seating in the front of the room for gatherings and designated spots in line.  Yep, all lined up in rows, perfectly designed for efficiency.  This does work well, but it has removed all choice from the students - and in turn all sense of ownership and responsibility for making good decisions.

We roll a little different in 205.  Kids can choose their arrangements, but know to make a good choice of where they are - "Are you going to be able to keep quiet and stay focused by this neighbor?", "Is this a good place for you?".  It sometimes requires 10 seconds of rearranging on our part, but I think that the students becoming self sufficient and learning about putting themselves in positive situations is a valuable life lesson.  There won't always be adults around to do it for them.

Seeing the different strategies used by the teachers I am with makes me realize the my CT does certainly induce situations that are more "messy", but life is very chaotic and by exposing the kids to these situations and giving them the tools to learn how to handle it themselves, I feel we are better serving them in the long run.  

Feedback loop

As I teach more and more within my classroom, I am starting to get more and more feedback from my CT.  It has all been really positive and helped push me to want to take on more challenges and try new things with our students.

Here is a typical post lesson recap for us (whenever we can find some of that all-precious time): It usually starts with me talking about what I felt went well, and what I noticed that could use some polishing.  Then I ask a question or two about what she would normally do when she sees the lesson going a certain way, or how she deals with those little things that pop up.  I am usually concerned about one or two things that I noticed, and try to go through my thinking during the lesson, and talk about why I made some of the choices that I did.  I know, me over-thinking things, can you believe it?

Case in point: yesterday I was doing some math problems with my kids on their little white boards.  They are starting to learn how to add and subtract fractions.  Some students really get it already, and some are still a little fuzzy.  Two kids in particular are struggling, so I had spent the previous day working with them quite a bit.  As I was giving them the problems I would wait a bit for the kids to "show me they were done", and they were ready to present by raising their boards.  I so desperately wanted those two kids to raise their boards.  The tricky part is if I linger too long to wait for those kids, I lose the other 20 or so.  It's a balancing act.  As the tasks progressed, I still kept waiting for those two boards to raise.  I could see their brains working, but I could also see the eyes of the other kids starting to glaze over.  As we came to the last of our questions, I was determined to hold out and let those kids get their thoughts out of their heads, give them that extra time to put the answer onto their board and raise it high.

The seconds seemed to stretch on forever (it's amazing how 30 seconds feels like 25 minutes when standing in front of that board).  Finally, a miracle!  The boards came up in the air, and a smile came to their faces.  I even chose one of them to explain their thinking, and they did so flawlessly.  My decision to hold out at the risk of losing some of the kids who were farther ahead seemed justified - I now had a student who previously was in doubt, feeling and thinking of themselves as a mathematician, full of confidence.

But still, I am wracked with guilt that the kids who understood the math had to wait an extra ten seconds.  I feel like I have let them down.  This is when my CT chuckles and says "Huh, I thought that went really well - you gave ______ a chance to show her classmates what she knows.  She seemed excited, that was great.  But you know what you could do?  You can write some difficult 'challenge problems' over on the side of the board for those kids who want the extra work - that'll keep them busy while we let the kids who need the extra time work through the math".  Genius, pure genius.  She always seems to have the most simple, perfect solution for my concerns ready and waiting for me.

I guess this is my long way of saying that the best feedback I get from my CT is the acknowledgement that I am noticing the right things and making sound choices.  I am seeing the tricky areas that I'm not so sure about and am not afraid to admit I don't think something was working.  I appreciate that she is eager to share her ideas on how I could get those sticky parts unstuck, and how she lets me know that every teacher runs into those same "difficult spots".

The feedback I get allows me to enter each experience with a fearlessness and willingness to try things out; to not be so worried about doing something wrong, but excited to do those things that I think are right.

This made me happy

I invested a lot of time in creating my Thematic Mini Unit.  Man did I ever.  But pouring so much of my imagination and creativity into the project produced something that was fun to read, but boring as all get out to look at.  Writing can be like that sometimes.  Black and white text just isn't visually stimulating.

So I loaded up the Thematic Unit section into Tagxedo.  It's like Wordle, but with lot's of fun shapes.  Here's what came up.  It's a satisfying visual for all my hard work.  I may have even smiled a bit.

It's like heartbreak & puppies.

I moved on from my Dyad placement kids this past week.  It sucks.  It's like losing 25 tiny little adorable friends, and it hurts.

Is this what it will be like every year?  Unless you are in a looped classroom, in which case you get a one year reprieve followed by twice the pain and heartache the next.  Now I know how those who foster puppies must feel: you welcome a bunch of sweet, innocent, little creatures into your life.  You nurture them, and teach them, and watch them grow and mature, then you give them an awkward hug or pat on the shoulder as they walk away from you forever.

To be fair, it was me doing the walking away this time, but the feeling is still the same.  I was wondering how I would feel when this day came.  I have talked with other educators about it, and they have told me it is a difficult part of the profession.  It's a tough feeling.  The only way I have to describe it is that it reminds me of that gut-wrenching feeling of stark panic I get when my mind flash-forwards 16 years and I hear my about-to-graduate-high-school son springing on me his epiphany to "skip college and live in South America", his time-table for return: unknown.

Not that the image of my son (quite strapping at that age, btw) tromping around the wilds of the Amazon frightens me, it is the sense of loss that tears at my heart.  We will be pouring so much of ourselves into these students of ours, it's painful to think about them moving on from us.

I was okay when I parted from my main placement kids the first time around.  I think deep down I knew I would be coming back.  It was easy to be that stolid, rock of a teacher.  After this experience with my 3rd graders, knowing them for only a short time, I begin to question if I will be able to keep up that facade when forced to say goodbye to my fifth graders.  They will be my first true classroom.  I will be spending so many wonderful upcoming days with them, getting to know them so well, helping them to reach for greater heights.

But that's the point isn't it;  in order for them to go after that brilliant future we have been painstakingly preparing them for, we have to let them go.

Overwhelmed & underwater

Blogging seems to have lost all of it's joy for me.

I try to think of deep and thought provoking, or clever and witty things to say about my experiences.  I know they are there, I build upon them almost everyday, but I cannot dredge them up from underneath the layer of mind-numbing coursework-related silt that sits on top of them.

Above said silt runs a fast moving stream of being a husband to a wife I never see (ships passing in the night) and a father to a 2 1/2 year old child with a severe CHD, for whom I will gladly sacrifice writing a lesson plan in order to have a fabulously deejayed dance party, or rush emergency vehicles to every crisis he can imagine.

Whereas I used to work ahead, I am now struggling to barely get by.  Sacrificing reading for one class in order to find time to do work for another.  Being acceptable when I want to be great.

There are now becoming times when I wonder if I can keep this up.  Can I really do this?  I feel overwhelmed and am struggling to tread water in my metaphorical river - trying not to slip underneath the surface.  Sometimes you all see me sigh deeply.  More than anything it is to remind myself I am still breathing and not underwater yet.

I know from speaking with others that many of us are feeling the same way (perhaps no where near as dramatic, but the same nonetheless).  Situations may be slightly different, but we are still at that same murky point.

In a recent reading I found a passage that has reminded me of why I am going through all of this struggle now, and why I will continue to struggle on in the future.  Of why it's worth all of the trials and frustration to become an educator.

Because being a teacher is what I was meant to do, and it's the best job ever.  

It's certainly not a cure-all, but the following words have given me a measure of composure and courage with which to carry on.  I hope they can do the same for anyone else out there who is in need.  Keep up the good fight.

"Sometimes I am totally baffled at the idea that I get paid to read great books with kids; help them write poetry (poetry, I tell you!); benefit from their honest, funny, youthful outlook every day; and then go to bed knowing I've at least approached doing something meaningful in the world. There are approximately two-and-a-half professions like that on the entire planet."

-Dina Strasser

Coincidentally appropriate

Today was one of those rare days in which our reading material was illustrated for us first hand.  One of our sources discussed the negative effects that stress has on the brain and our abilities to learn.  Our "break" today left me extremely stressed and tense, and I truly was unable to focus-in and pay much attention during our afternoon class; it was hampering my desire to learn.

Looky there, living proof that not feeling comfortable and being stressed can affect your student's ability to learn and desire to participate in class.

Like the scrambled up brain-science reading example said:  "it's amaznig!"

Yeah, I can do that

I came away from today's class with two clear thoughts in mind:  First, teaching the Micro-lesson for first graders left me feeling that although the K-1st sector wasn't really high on my radar, I think I could see myself teaching at those grade levels.  I had a lot of fun with the lesson.

Secondly, and counter to the first idea, I have no idea if I could handle that young of a group of kids every day.  It was all fine and good until you all started asking age appropriate questions for first graders that I had not anticipated (expecting, of course, adult appropriate questions).  I know kids say the darndest things and all, I just didn't expect my students to do so.  Lesson learned.

I will be doing my dyad with younger kids and cannot wait.  I think it will really give me an idea if the early age groups are something that I may want to look at.  There is a certain element of fun involved with the younger kids that gets lost as they age and everything seems to get so serious.  I've never pictured myself as a Kindergarten teacher, but then again, I've never NOT pictured myself as one either.

Hopefully getting some more practice with lesson plans across all the ages will help me find where my true strengths are.

Those brave young souls

I now have a new-found respect for all of those elementary school kids out there. 

Today I sat in one classroom for almost eight straight hours, attempting to stay focused and learn something.  I don't know how they manage.  By two o'clock I was spent.  It's not that I was bored, in fact the subject matter and discussions were most engaging, but even for a full grown adult like me it is really hard to sit still for that long.

This is what we expect our kids to do each day.  Admittedly, I am out of practice being in class for an entire day, but it reminded me just how imperative it is for us to truly engage our students.  As hard as it was for me to do when I was into the subject matter, imagine what it would have been like if I was not. 

We must get our students engaged in learning.  We must energize and vitalize them.  Enliven their souls and propel them to strive for greatness.  If we fail to do so and they must sit there, day in and day out, for eight hours at a time, counting the seconds and wishing, longing, to finally be free - I think we have not done our proper duty as educators.

Sour

My son and I awoke some time today around 6:30am.  While he ate breakfast and played and I sipped my coffee, the morning news discussed the death of Osama Bin Laden ad naseum.

I am as patriotic as the next person, perhaps even more so, yet I just couldn't get over all the images of baseball stadiums and college campuses filled with people standing, cheering, chanting "USA, USA!"  Something about those scenes and actions left a bad taste in my mouth.  It all reminded me of the Wizard of Oz, with the Munchkins prancing around in spectacle singing "ding dong, the witch is dead". 

Unsettling.

As I watched my young son I just kept thinking about how I would someday have to reconcile this dichotomy of purpose with him, as well as my future students; that we strive to build a classroom based on community and compassion, showing our students the value of each and every person - each and every living, breathing, human being - yet we nationally revel in the death of one man, no matter how vile he may have been.

My pantz, zey are on fire

Lately I feel like I am walking around with a miniscule version of Bill Ayers sitting on one shoulder and a little version of Margret Buchmann perched atop the other.  My very own tiny angel and demon, each whispering in my ear. 

As I think of what type of teacher I choose to be and about the issues that lay ahead and how I will deal with them, they speak to me.  Bill shouts things like "weeeeeee!" and "share the love!” while Margret is quick to counter "uh, uh, uh...remember - professionalism".  They travel along with me and provide running commentary on the issues as I begin to "try to save the world", which by the way, is already an exhausting process for me, only after 5 weeks.  No wonder people are still "Waiting for Superman" - he's too tired and beat down from discussing the issues to show up.

MB usually ends up playing the role of the heavy because BA is just too much of a free spirit.  She seems accepting of her "role" (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).  They are really just two sides of the whole, sharing elements of each other.  One is professional via Creativity; the other is creative through Professionalism, sort of Yin and Yang.  I sought their guidance tonight on the way home, again pouring over our recent discussions in my head as my car found its way, somehow, through the dark.

A thought has occurred to me:  By teaching in a manner that emphasizes equality, community, true democracy, love, compassion and empathy; are we failing to prepare our kids for the current world we live in?  Put less eloquently; are we blatantly lying to them?

It seems to me we are trying to teach our kids about the world around them, the ”real world", using idealized techniques that aren't used in common practice on the "outside".  Example:  when my kids want to learn about the issues in our current political system (or social system, or racial system, or gender system) in these United States, I will be using methods based on fairness, equality and community to help my kids learn about corruption, competition and divisiveness.

Obviously we must teach this way because we choose to "see the world for what it can be, rather than what it is", paraphrasing Bill from my right shoulder, and Margret tells me from her opposite perch "that it is in fact in the best interest of the child and therefore based in professionalism", yet I cannot help but feeling like we may be setting them up for a fall.  Be it years down the road, or simply next year in a less progressively taught classroom.

I don't want to betray the trust of my students.  I will choose to teach in this child-centered way we discuss because it is the right thing to do, yet the world works very hard to make a liar out of me.  I feel like it will be difficult to be wholly honest with them without depressing them.  There has to be some ways to do this.  Also, is it too much of a burden for young children to bear to inform them that they are the flag bearers of change and this is why our classroom focuses on ecology, advocacy and democracy?  Those two little gargoyles resting by my ears have gone suddenly silent.  I hope they don't stay that way for too long.

I think I have a man-crush on Bill Ayers

It's true, I definitely do.  You know when you first meet someone and you are talking with them and it's like they must have been inside your head at some point because the things they are saying are literally your "things"?  I know right?  Weird.  Well, that's what it's like for me and Bill.

Yes, I am aware that it is very early in our budding relationship and what I am feeling may simply be an infatuation and in the end I could wind up getting hurt, but as with most endeavors of the heart, I think it is a risk worth taking.  Maybe you would understand better if I explained just why I have such feelings for Mr. Ayers.

I have been constructing my thoughts on who I want to be as an educator and how I want to teach for many years.  I have come up with 3 major themes:  1)  Love your kids, 2)  Know yourself and 3)  Know your kids.  My struggle has been turning these "foundations" into practical theories that I could use in the teaching profession.  The ideas were there, I just lacked the words and experience to voice them.  Imagine my surprise when William Ayers seemingly reached into my soul, plucked out my deeply rooted tenets and then proceeded to flesh them out for me.  "Here" he said with a roguish smile, "Let me give you a hand with that."  I must admit, it was a little awkward, as all first conversations with someone you like are, but I couldn't help but feeling as if, "he gets me."  Not to mention he gives eloquent voice to concepts for which I have been unable to find the right words.  Does anyone else feel like this?  Does William "speak" to anyone else in the same way?  (It's okay if he does, were aren't an exclusive item....yet....don't you ruin this for me!)

One of his Teaching Myths struck me as particularly profound and since we never got to it in our class discussion, I thought I would touch briefly on it here.  Myth 10: A good teacher knows what is going on in the classroom.  At first it makes no sense to me.  One would think a good teacher is omniscient, or at least trying to be.  Then I realized his whole point was about seeing from another's perspective, the "using a different lens" theory we were discussing last Monday.  But not simply another lens from your kit as in re-examining your perspective, but literally looking at it from another's point of view.  Your lesson means one thing to you, but what is it from your kids perspective?  One lesson becomes thirty lessons.  It can fail or succeed based on the successful meshing of those views.  As Bill so deliciously puts it: "Classrooms are yeasty places, where an entire group comes together and creates a distinctive and dynamic culture; sometimes things bubble and rise; sometimes they are punched down or killed off."  How on earth I can learn to create an engaging, active classroom in which I can pull together so many different perspectives seems a bewildering task.  So I ask this for us all to think about:  With all these vastly different organic compounds in this "yeast", how can we as teachers make sure this Bread rises?