Ulcers all around!

Dear student,

You are not only giving me an ulcer, but you are giving yourself an ulcer. You have a freaking A in my advanced math class. You are doing WELL. Exceptionally so.

Just because you don't have an A+ doesn't mean you have to freak out.

Just because you are working your butt off, doesn't mean you can't relax too.

Yes, math is difficult. It isn't called ADVANCED MATH for nothing.

But you are doing well anyway.

Did I mention that you have an A? A high A, which will turn into an A+ once I've gotten the boat load of extra credit that you turned in today graded and recorded. So chill out. Please.

Sincerely,
Ms. B

P.S. I think I'll name my ulcer after you.

Fill what is empty, empty what is full

Filling up on yummy things like crackers and hummus and peaches.

Oh dear.

I unexpectedly burst out crying today. In front of my BTSA mentor. Awesome and professional of me isn't it? And teaching isn't even going THAT terrible! Sure, I can do better, I can improve. Sure, I make mistakes on a daily basis. Sure, I've got some individual students who can do with a bit more "Mean Ms. Ng" and less "Sympathetic Ms. Ng" just because they learn better with more structure.

But overall, my students are:

- productive
- understanding the material
- well behaved, non-defiant, and energetic/happy about school

I guess I'm stressed out. It's the problem I had during student teaching too - the little things chip away at me until I've got nothing left. I'm also allowing the daily grind/traditional teaching methods/need to give, give, and give some more to get the best of me.

Well, I can't give what I don't have. And when I don't have anything to give, it's time to recharge and fill up again. That's my job tonight. That, and letting go of work things that consume my mind. Let it go....let it go....let it go....

Um...

It's a chocolate day.

Didn't actually teach today, but am getting a bit panicky about the new school year. Will I teach well? Will I be effective? Will I be consistent in discipline and grading? Will the students respect me?


And most of all WILL I GET EVERY THING PREPARED BY THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL?

I know all these questions, and more, are answered with both a yes and a no. I know that I can prepare until my eyeballs give out and still some last minute thing might pop up and throw me off. I kind of dread that.


Confidence! Be confident! I have "with-it-ness," I just need make it show.

Dear colleagues who teach 3 year olds

Sweet, devilish faces just waiting to inhale your art supplies when you're not looking.

Oh my freaking poohcow. How on earth do you do it? How do you keep a bunch of mini-kids entertained, rounded up, and non-whiny day in and day out? Because my experience with them this past week has been both horrific and hilarious at the same time.

First of all, it is worthwhile to note that one-and-a-half hours of drawing is NOT sufficient to keep 3 year olds within the grasp of my control. I barely managed fit 30 minutes of drawing each day.

Ok. 60 minutes to go. Now what?

And thus, I find out how important it is for teachers of mini-kids to have a box of goodies - toys, puzzles, books, stuffed animals, kush balls, blocks, etc - around. I also discover how much cash kinder teachers shell out to outfit their room with these items. Goodness, and I was complaining about the cost of paper and pencils for the intermediate grades.

Supplies, and keeping my group entertained, were not the biggest issue. No. I found the complete lack of logic indescribable. Why do we have to color? Why do we have to draw? What is that for? What is that sound? What is that sound again, when I have already explained that it is the air conditioning TEN PREVIOUS TIMES. Why is your hair black? What makes the table squeaky? Can I go potty? Can I go potty again? Can I go potty RIGHT HERE ON THE CARPET? No? Oops, I DID IT ANYWAY. I'm hungry, SO I'M GOING TO EAT THIS HERE GLUE - the glue that is supposed to be used on my ladybug craft, which, by the way, is looking less like a ladybug and more like the entire foam isle of Joann's had been chewed up and regurgitated by a cow.

No, I do not understand - nor do I ever want to understand - the mind of a preschool kid. On the plus side, I can make up whatever nonsense I want, tell it with a straight face and they'll believe me. What happens if you eat the purple glue stick, Timmy you ask? IT WILL TURN YOUR POOP PURPLE, that's what happens. Cool, right? Glad you like it Timmy, because it will also turn your butt purple AND IT WILL REMAIN SO UNTIL YOU TURN 21.

Needless to say, I was entirely too grateful when the end of the art camp arrived and I said good bye to my little munchkins with hugs and "I love yous" and cards and flowers. Good lord parents who are probably about the same age as me. I taught your kid for FOUR DAYS. I'm curious what you might give me if I had taught your experimental gastronome of a child for a full school year. A diamond encrusted apple paper weight?

What a huge difference ten years makes. By the time these kids enter 8th grade, most of their mommies would have gone back to work and the masses of parent volunteers lining outside the school would have dried up. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. It's nice when the students you teach don't need you to hold their hand anymore - that's the whole point, is it not?

When students run out the door and don't tell me where they go

The kid center front is one of the shyest, most aloof kids I know, yet he was willing to go up on stage and share his kung fu - because he enjoys it.
This afternoon, I'll be going to my Tuesday art class. I've been teaching at this school, at this time slot, since August. I really like this school. I really like the students here.

So it made me a little sad when one of my students walked out on my class last week. Nelly* is a second grader and it's like pulling teeth to get her to care about each week's art project. Every other kid in my Tuesday class is self-motivated. They can draw and color for hours on end. But Nelly, she can't wait for 4:30 when I release them.

Now, there may be multiple reasons why she wants to leave so freaking fast, and hating art might not be one of them. Still, she shoots out of there so consistently, and always does such a half-hearted job, that I wonder.

Last Tuesday was an easy art lesson. There are so many perfectionists in this class that I wanted to have them do something simple, completely and well, rather than something more difficult and half-finished. I got some really good sample student work that day. I'm glad I brought my camera.

Nelly was the first to get through the lesson, messily as usual. Like usual, I prompted her to make a "good" piece of art better by going back and carefully covering up the white spaces she left behind, making lines connect with the other lines, coloring right up to the edge of the paper. I even sat down and did a little bit with her. A few weeks prior, I had spent nearly the entire coloring portion of the art class with her, encouraging her to push herself to a higher level. She did slightly better than week than any other time.

Last Tuesday, I didn't have that kind of time. My kinders, who were out sick last week, were back. Some parents were hanging out and had questions about the new session. One of the boys was being particularly high maintenance. Every single green marker decided to die on me that day so I had to improvise with telling students to "mix media" and tossed green color pencils into their boxes of markers.

The next time I looked for Nelly, she was gone. Backpack, jacket, person.

Oh. Thunderous. Crap.

Losing a kid in a crowd is said to be a parent's worse nightmare, and it probably is. I don't know, I've never been a parent, but I imagine it to be horrific.

Losing a kid, as a teacher, is heart attack inducing. The liability! The law suits! The firing from said job! Good grief, this must be what a principal feels when some green, n00b of a teacher goes rogue and does something totally unconventional.

I run to the door and looked around in the courtyard. No Nelly. I called her name. No reply. I had a hunch she was just around the corner of the building at the pick-up line which, I knew from experience, was within earshot of the door I was standing in. I called again, louder. Still no reply.

I couldn't leave the other students in the room either.

Luckily, a parent I knew walked by and I asked her to check to see if Nelly was at the front of the school. I was right, she was there. The parent brought her back and I had a quiet little conversation with her, telling her firmly that she needs to be in this room until 4:30 - even if she wasn't doing any art. She looked annoyed and relieved at the same time. I think she was afraid I was going to make her color that insipid picture again. I told her she could do her homework, or read a book from the shelves.

Thank the good lord art class is held in the library. The girl made a bee line for the shelves.

Those last ten minutes were long for me. They were probably long for Nelly too. When her parent arrived, I pulled them aside for a chat. After asking some questions and finding out that everything was "fine" with Nelly and "fine" with art class, I told the parent about the day's events. I said that I love to have Nelly in the class, that she's doing good work and improving her drawing skills a lot. But I also want her to want to be in the class too. And that if she's really not happy here, she should keep looking and trying activities that she would enjoy more - or maybe she just needs a break from after school activities, since sometimes kids get tired of doing so much (I had gotten a HUGE hint from one of the other students, he was Nelly's neighbor and he knew her goings and comings pretty well; apparently, Nelly has been shipped out to various places everyday and never went home until late - there may also be some traumatic family event, like divorce, going on). I told them they don't have to decide right away, and I'll still continue to do new things to try to make art more interesting for everyone, but it's ok if she wants to do other things besides art.

I know that I, as an after school art teacher, have the luxury of telling students to seek better things for themselves if they don't fit in well with art - or if art doesn't fit with them. No public school classroom teacher EVER has that kind of choice.

Nelly had been clammed up all day and I didn't expect her to say anything. But at this point, she burst out crying and couldn't stop. I thought it best to leave the conversation that day as it is and bid Nelly a "It's ok, you're not in trouble, get some rest, calm your nerves, and you can tell me more later, if you want to." They left, Nelly still bawling all the way out.

It really makes me sad to see kids not enjoying the things I'm teaching them. Sad for them, I mean. Sure, they may not be good at it right away, or even after a decent amount of time. But never have I taught a kid who didn't learn something, who didn't improve upon something they already knew.

It's sadder still when my students can't manage to find some sort of escape from whatever troubles they have (if they have any - and more likely than not, they do) in art class. It's meant to be fun, social, challenging-yet-accomplishable. I carefully shape the class so that students feel safe enough to unburden their worries at the door when they enter the world of art. Many students do, and the quality and quantity of what they learn/improve grows exponentially when they enjoy the time it takes to cultivate that knowledge/skill.

For Nelly, it wasn't enough. Which makes me think I wasn't enough. I didn't do enough to relieve her of her fears, not even for an hour-long art class.

Today is the first day of a new art session. I wonder if Nelly will be there?

*Not real name.

Lessons from driving in the rain

Lesson #1: Just because you are driving safely, doesn't mean other people are.

I like to think I'm a pretty experienced, safe driver. I've had my license for ten years, no accidents, no nothing. Ok, one parking ticket, but only because I was in a hurry and there were no spots open except for the carpool ones.

This past week, I was almost run over by another car. On three separate occasions as I was driving to my tutoring sessions. All in the rain. All in my little Honda civic. All during the day time when the water on the ground makes that "whiteout" effect.

I guess my car just blends in with that whiteout.

For the rest of this rainy season, I'm taking the family's Xterra out anytime I think I might be caught in the rain. I would rather not be flattened into a soggy, crushed mess of twisted metal, k'thanks.

Solo, Day 1-3

Lord Byron got it quite accurate. I've been in a daze the whole day, at least since my morning Open Court lesson crashed and burned in the most spectacular way possible. Thus, I'm not very coherent right now, not even to myself. But I do want to jot down a list of thoughts going through my mind, learn from them, put them aside, and start fresh with a renewed spirit.

Did I mention I only have half an hour to do all of that? Yeah, because the work never ceases.

*finally completed the Educational Leave of Absence process today. my impression of the chair person's reaction to my question on who would approve my form seemed rather snotty. I in no way expected any "special" anythings "granted" tome. the form protocol required a signature. I was following the protocol. period.

*I really wish my CT would let me talk a little more when we go over my lessons after I teach them. I'm not sure him doing all the talking is effective in helping me understand how to teach better.

*also, it is very difficult to get my thoughts together right before the bell rings when someone is talking at me. and when my thoughts are not together, I teach poorly.

*I better let my CT know this tomorrow. I'll ask him to save his comments for the end of the day, not at lunch, or at prep, or at recess.

*damn, is it only Wednesday?

*seriously, I love teaching science.

*why on earth am I making the same teaching errors over and over again? why am I so inconsistent? why are my old habits dying such a long and drawn out death?

*more importantly, how can I fix this weakness?

*I am totally NOT a 4 in any of the performance evaluation items. Am scared. Am anxious. Am nervous. Am frustrated. Am depressed and disappointed.

*almost cried at school today. at the verge of tears now. and my first three solo days haven't been that bad! yet, I still feel like a hopeless failure because of my inconsistency.

*I don't mind failing. it's the second time that makes me mad. and also the fact that the future doesn't look very promising.

*right now, would very much like a decent paying job where I just play with rabbits all day. is there a job like that? because I would like to apply.

*the commute seems so much longer when it's been a bad day.

*so much freaking stuff to do for the job hunt. I've already done so much too, but it never seems to end. there's another piece of information to add to my portfolio, another bit of contact information to give to this person, another school to study-up on enough to be able to ask intelligent questions, another thing that needs doing but I don't know what it is yet because it'll only pop up at the last minute. ~.~ uugh.

*I do not give a rat's tushie about being "holiday ready," so you can stop pushing that tinsel in my face now.

*I really appreciate my part-time job, really. But I don't appreciate the expectation of showing up to a class WHEN I WASN'T TOLD THAT THERE WAS ONE. Or being under the assumption that I am available teach a new session, scheduling me for it, AND THEN telling me after all other things had been set. Or thinking that I can magically appear at a school site in twenty minutes WHEN IT TAKES FORTY TO DRIVE THERE.

*I really do appreciate my part-time job. I will probably work at it for a little longer if I can't manage to find a full-time teaching position.

*that is, assuming they let me pass. it would SO SUCK if they end up not letting me pass. again. I'm not sure I would continue with the program if that happened.

*not that I've been told any time this semester that I'm under risk of not passing. my supervisor has actually been pretty impressed by me. and my CT, in general, thinks I'm decent as well. it's just that today was such an utter disaster, it feels like I'm failing. again.

*would very much like to crawl into a warm, soft cave and hibernate for a very, very long time.

Ok mind, are you emptied yet? Can I move on with my life and get back to work? Can "being patient start now," like Lyra says at the end of The Amber Spyglass?

I'm so glad tomorrow is a new day. I just hope today won't chain me down from those flying colors tomorrow.

Photo from: Beauty in Everything

Heart attack teaching day!

Kind of like what eating 16 of these will do to you. All at once. And only the chocolate-caramel outside.

Introducing a new tag: heart attack teaching day! I've actually had quite a few of these, so I'm surprised I've just thought of the idea now.

Today was a pretty big heart attack teaching day, even though it was only one incidence (oh yes, there are heart attack teaching days FULL of incidences). My routine is to go get the students at the recess bell and bring them in from the line in the playground. Today was no exception.

Except one of my students had an asthma attack. Without his inhaler on him.

I, nervous newbie student teacher that I am, panicked. By panic, I mean P.A.N.I.C.K.E.D.

What do you do when something like that happens to a student, and you can't leave the other 27 alone. And you are not certified to do any medical thing other than administer CPR (and I honestly never want to, even though I know how). And the school nurse is only on campus THREE DAYS out of the week due to budget cuts. And the school office where the student's extra inhaler and medications are, is a stone's throw away for a healthy person but seems like miles away for a kid who is being strangled by inflamed muscles. What the hell do you do?

Well, the proper procedures are to send another student (preferably a healthy one) with the asthma attack student to the office. Needless to say, I didn't do that.

Luckily, the student got over his attack. I'm not sure how one "gets over" an asthma attack without some sort of medication, but apparently he did.

In any case, it was a heart attack day for me. Note to self: be sure to know which student has what medical conditions! Have my own emergency kit in the classroom handy. And make sure said students have their inhalers on them at all times.