Moments

Anyone who has talked to me lately probably knows that this school year has been a rough start. I have some different behaviors that I have not had to deal with for a couple years and it is making me stretch myself as a teacher. Really stretch. I've pretty much had to rethink the way I do everything. But by May I'm sure I'll look back and appreciate how I had to grow as a teacher.

Or I'll be happy it's summer. The fact that I'm already talking about May is not a good sign.

However, amidst the chaos and tribulations that is my classroom, there are still moments that make me smile. Like a few days ago when I was teaching them how to read a timeline. The example we were looking at traced the history of modern communication. I was trying to explain the telegraph and Morse code - a difficult concept for 8-year-olds who can't fathom the world pre-iPod. We tapped out S.O.S (the only code I know), I showed them a picture, and I was trying to explain why they would need it, when one student raised his hand with that spark of enlightenment in his eye.

He even waited for me to call on him. "So...," he began slowly, "they were texting?"

Close enough.

Have I done this before?

After a week with the kiddos, I'm pretty tired. Was it always this hard? Have I lost my touch? A good friend reminded me that I say this every year. Every year I wonder how I will make it. I wonder how I will get everything done. But it feels new. I don't remember the aches and pains of the first few weeks of teaching. I remember being able to whip out lesson plans and having everything in the classroom set. I remember the kids responding to what I say and knowing the procedures. How do I get us there?

Here are a few things that I've heard over the past 6 days:

"I'm so glad I got you for my teacher!"

"I want a different class. I need a new third grade."

"Chinese people talk funny." (Then I enlighten them to the fact that I am Chinese.) "Oh, but I wasn't making fun. I was just talking like them."

"Can I take my Writer's Notebook home?" Sure. "To lunch?" Anywhere you want. "Yesss!"

"It's not my fault if he made me do it."

Phone call to parent: "Is it okay if I give you a Target card to get whatever you need? And I want to sponsor your class ($100 donation), too. Do you need anything?"

Phone call to another parent: "I'm sorry. The number that you are trying to reach is no longer in service."

"We put mini-diapers on my dog last night cause she started her period." "What's a period?" "It's what you get to know your pregnant." I sat, praying the conversation would just end.

"He's looking at ME! STOP! I'm gonna..." "Whatchyou say, punk?" "You better get out of my face!" Great day, people, it's the second day of school.

"Can I have extra homework?"

I have 18 students. 18 different days each day. Different needs. Different strengths. Different meltdowns. I hope I can do this again.

False Start

So, after scrambling around for the last week... faculty meetings, team meetings, trainings on how to be a teacher, trainings on how not to be a teacher, planning, thinking, imagining all the new faces, nightmares about having field trips on the first day, laminating, cutting, labeling, rearranging, stapling bulletin boards, wondering why I thought it necessary to store a lidless water jug all summer, endless searching for my missing homemade math games, rehearsing lessons over and over, not quite sure how I did it before, knowing we will get through it again... it is finally the day before school starts.

Well, the day before the day before. The first day of school has been cancelled due to Tropical Storm Fay. So, my sharpened pencils and new boxes of crayons will have to wait. And I think it is a good idea. I know most teachers left with a smile. One more day to rest and recover before the rollercoaster officially begins.

My plans for the storm: make first day nametags (I forgot the past week), re-do my first week plans to now fit into 3 days, make more lesson plans, and relax. Maybe read. Maybe write. Hopefully, we won't actually have to deal with any weather.

One fish, two fish...

Last weekend, I had the chance to go to the Florida Aquarium with my family, including my 6-year-old niece. We sat next to West African penguins (quite a surprise to my niece who thought penguins were only in Antarctica). We felt the slippery wing tips of sting-rays. We pet a snake. We even saw a Goliath Grouper about the size of a table.

There was a room full of sea dragons. From the typical sea horse to a leafy sea dragon that looked exactly like a pile of floating, yellow seaweed. We learned about fish and sharks and even heard how some tanks were full of "real good eatin'."

When we got to my sister's house later that evening, my niece got out a stack of paper and her colored pencils - ready to make a book all about animals at the aquarium. She was thinking about facts she knew, illustration placement, and color choice. She debated whether to write it including narrative details or to write it as a strictly nonfiction, informational book.

Now, yes, my niece is brilliant, talented, and super cute. But what struck my teacher sensibilities was how this experience prompted writing. Writing was the natural response to a unique activity. I think it can be a natural, fun response to all kinds of things: fun, sad, happy, scary, etc.

In third grade, my students primarily write personal narratives. I try to validate their experiences and get them to write about whatever happens in their lives. But I think they can write with more detail and passion if they have more experiences. Have you ever read a poor novel in which the author clearly didn't research their topic or setting enough? And then how engaging are the stories where everything rings true and you feel like you're there?

So, my goal for this school year is to take my students on at least 3 field trips, whether it kills me or not.