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?

Media Mondays: Copenhagen love

Screen capture from Google Maps.

This blog, half girl, has been on my radar for a little more than a year. I found it through another of my favorite fashion/style/photo blogs, and it is awesome. Whenever I feel dumpy, or dense, or gross in any sense, I go here and become inspired by the pretty pictures and little text.

Absolutely non-education related, it did put Copenhagen on the map for me. Not that I didn't know where Copenhagen was before, but I never knew it to be so...casually sophisticated. Not exactly the right words to describe it. You'll have to go and see half girl's blog yourself. Also, this one: Copenhagen Cycle Chic.

I'm pretty sure not ALL of Copenhagen is like this, just like not ALL of California are Hollywood hardbodies, or hippie-shaking vegans. But I'm intrigued, and I definitely want to go. And since I truly believe travel is just another form of education, well, then I suppose it is education related after all.

Math CSET: Algebra, Number Theory, Geometry, Statistics

Oh dear friends, the luxury of knowing you for the sake of knowing you is sometimes hard to afford.

Holy stinking poohcow, that was one difficult test. It was NOTHING like the practice tests in the study guide - both from the book by REA and the ones from the CSET exam site itself. It took me an average of 2.5 hours to do each test (I did four total in preparation for this), and I squeaked by with a low passing grade on all of them.

The real thing: 5 hours given, 5 hours used. And I still ended up rushing the final long answer problems, not even completing one of them. I think I did ok on subtest II (the geo and stats). However, subtest I revealed my blatant ignorance in numerical analysis in very uncomfortable ways. It would be a miracle if I passed that - and purely because I did ok on the number theory problems.

In any case, I'm not holding my breath. Good thing my position in the fall isn't contingent on me passing the math CSET. The signs weren't in my favor at all leading up to this test:

- The proctors took FREAKING FOREVER to get everyone situated. You would think after decades of giving this test there would be a more efficient way of signing in. The cellphone-nazi lady who kept rotated through the rooms every five minutes for the first forty-five minutes didn't help much.....

- ....Which contributed to the bad mood I was already in due to the heat, dehydration from crying so much, sad thoughts of Momo, and the hundred people chattering away giddily, speaking fast enough to rival clucking chickens, about "subbing" or "applications" or "credential programs" or....hold up. That was ME not too long ago. Whoa. Did I sound that annoying too? I'll keep that in mind.

- My last two remaining Muji pencils broke. My lucky pencils! They brought me through so many math exams - the ones where I was so sure I had failed but didn't.

- The lady who was clearing all the calculator memories kept making people's calculators do weird things. She even broke one of them. Good thing my trusty TI-86 has been through worse than errant button punching.

Well, glad it's over with at any rate. I did learn one thing, or was reminded of it more like: passing the test and saving a whole bunch of tuition money is sweet, but in the end, I think I prefer taking the courses. All this cram-studying is exactly the type of learning I hold in much less priority than really learning the material and understanding it deeply. You get to meet people, and collaborate, and argue math logic with your professor until they are so exasperated with you that they kick you out their office. What? That's never happened to you? Um, well, me neither! ::cough::

When a week feels like years

Enjoy the Great Meadow of Carrots Beyond. You'll be able to eat as much as you want without getting sick.

So much has happened since last week. A summary:

- I was offered a 0.8 eighth grade Algebra teaching position, with maybe a sixth grade social studies or a math intervention period thrown in. Of course I accepted. I will definitely start the BTSA this fall.

- I canceled my flight to Hong Kong and notified the NET position people that I had accepted earlier. Sad that I don't get to go now, but glad that I got a bigger offer last minute.

- I also told my current bosses about the changes. Will be back to tutoring and art teaching for the rest of the summer. I might even be on the sub list for art teaching in the fall - they have classes out by my new middle school too.

- My rabbit died suddenly. He was getting better after the first visit to the vet's, and taking his meds. But he regressed. I'm less sad about his actual dying than about how young he was when he went - only a little more than a year old! I had him for only 50 weeks, just under a year! I was so looking forward to bringing him with me and sharing new adventures with him in a new home. I know that's life, but it really isn't fair. The vet did an autopsy and I'll know the results when I go in to pick up his cage and settle the bill today. Oh Momo. ::sigh::

- Math CSET tomorrow afternoon. I am so not ready. And after Mo died, I don't have the energy or concentration to study more than an hour a day. My weakest areas are real analysis and statistics - the two topics I never took as an undergrad. It crossed my mind to not go - but I think I actually have a chance at scraping a pass. That, and it's too late to change the test date. Nor do they refund your $70-per-subtest fee. And Momo would not have given up. He tried all his life to jump over his enclosure - a good three-and-a-half feet tall. He managed to cling, spiderman-like, to the top of the cage, but of course a little bunny won't have the power to clear that fence. Still, he persisted. I should at least try my best too.

Hm. Looking at this now, it doesn't seem like a lot has happened in black and white. But it has felt like a long, long time.

Also of note: I think I can make a Fibonacci lesson using rabbits. Yes, it might work. And I can ask the local rabbit shelter (which I signed up to volunteer with) to bring some bunnies to school - or maybe have students go there for extra credit.

In less than a week

I'm taking this in less than a week. Not feeling nervous about it - I think I should be. By all accounts, this is an extremely difficult test. But this study book I've been working on isn't too difficult. Why? Is there a disconnect between the test and the available prep books? I really should take a look at the online sample questions.

I'm sure the long answer questions are going to be more difficult. Ack. Ok, more nervous now. Study, study, study!

Media Mondays: those 7th graders, discovering things

w00t. Go, seventh graders.

Lessons from the vet

I had to take this chubby poofball to the vet yesterday because he wasn't eating and he wasn't drinking and he wasn't pooping properly. I try really hard not to feed him anything weird, or give him too many treats, but it's hard with that face and the fact that the only way I've managed to make him sit still to nail clipping is to give him carrots. I guess I have him too much. Not to mention that my parents like to feed him behind my back too, so I never really know how much he's getting because they don't tell me, even when I ask.

So he spend a night at the vet's taking meds to make him poop and being hydrated. He had masses of poops, the vet said, and should be ok. A sample is being done in the lab to make sure Mo doesn't have parasites. He's not a 100%, but he's drinking and eating and pooping right again. He does seem pretty tired, poor guy.

Lesson #1: I am willing to pay the $500 for vet hospital care. It didn't come down to that much, because Mo responded really well to the meds, but still. There are some things I'll shell out for, and this is one of them.

Lesson #2: Keeping a delicate pet like a rabbit while keeping my parents educated as to what he needs is no easy task. No matter how I yell at them, or how I tell them that rabbits are NOT DOGS AND NO HE CANNOT EAT THAT, the message doesn't really get through.

Lesson #3: Vets see stupid people who do stupid things to their pets all the time. They get frustrated too when they see a patient who's owner is stupider than stupid.

My vet was kinda grumpy at me in the beginning, but today, when I went to pick Mo up, he was nicer. Apparently, it was a much more mild case than he thought. And that I wasn't as stupid as he thought I was.

Shocked and astounded

Would being only seven play a part too? But most seven year olds I know DO say "thank you"....

This week, I taught a 3-day art camp with the local parks and rec, ending today. It was fun. Five students, all girls. We worked with only pastels - both chalk and oil.

The youngest in the group, a seven year old with some sort of auditory/social disability (my personal opinion - the parent did not tell me this, but it's my guess from what I've observed) gave me some issues yesterday and today.

Yesterday:

I was showing another student how to make her blending look more natural when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this kid feebly reach for the box, give up after one try, and the purposefully flings the pastel in her hand across the table. It lands smack in front of me, on my demo paper.

I excuse myself from the student I was working with and go over to the kid, asking her why she thought throwing was a good idea. She mumbles and mutters and says something about "can't reach." I tell her if she can't reach the box, then she needs to ask, "Can you help me put this back?" and I would gladly help her. She continues to mumble and her face starts screwing up into a fake cry (it was oh-so-fake, could have been spotted a mile away). I persist, asking her to speak up in a clear voice. She finally manages it, only to yell at me to leave her alone and that I was bothering her.

Yes, yes I am bothering you! You! Who threw a pastel at me! The teacher! I have every right to bother you, to make you mind the rules, because you have no right to fling my art supplies around like that!

I make her apologize. I make her ask me politely to help her put the pastel back. Then, I prompt her to say the magic words.

And the kid stares at me as if I was crazy. She wasn't faking it. She sincerely had NO IDEA what the "magic words" were.

Are. You. Joking.

I didn't even blink. I turned to the rest of the class, who have now been sitting in tense silence throughout this exchange, trying their best to ignore it, and ask:

"Can any one help her out and tell her what the first word of the magic words are?"

A couple of the other students whisper it, and the seven year old thanked me. I gave her a broad smile and said, "You're welcome" as if she was one of my pre-school kids just learning social manners - you know how excited mini-kids get when you make a big deal out of them for saying "please" and "thank you." I was hopping it would give this kid a kick so that she wouldn't do it again.

Oh boy, did I set my hopes too high.

Today:

Right after I set down the pastels and the girls got to work, I noticed the seven year old not doing anything. I make a couple rounds first, giving her some space. Perhaps she was thinking. Perhaps she was tired and needed a break.

Ten minutes later, she still wasn't doing anything. A dark look of sullen sulk had settled upon her face. I amble over, friendly-like, and asked her what was up. She mumbled again. I asked her to repeat.

Kid: I don't want to use those.

She pointed to the chalk pastels. Yes, chalk pastels are notorious. I hate them too, personally. They are messy, and you breath it in, and it's a pain in the butt to do kid-art with them. But I had given my instructions. They were to be used for specific parts of the picture, and the oils for the other parts.

I told her that, even though it's good that she has her opinion, everyone sometimes has to do things they don't really want to.

Oh, boy. The fit that ensued. It wasn't a noisy, tantrum. It was one of those quiet, seething fits. She screwed up her face, just like the day before, grunting and moaning and wiping away imaginary tears. By this time, I had a hunch that this was the tactic she used at home whenever her mom suggested something she didn't like. It looked rehearsed, practiced. She was good at it.

But not good enough.

I told her I needed to speak to her outside. Changing scenery often helps with behavior management, especially with younger students. I made her stand right outside the door, and I stood with her, one foot in and one foot out. I told her in a quiet, firm, and calm voice with no uncertain terms that she was wasting time. She was wasting my time, the other student's time, her own time. Her parents had paid a lot of good money for her to be in art class, and she was disrespecting that.

I told her she had a choice. She could calm down, go back to her seat and do art. Or, she could calm down, go inside, sit at the back table, and do nothing. I asked her she wanted to choose.

She chose art.

Certainly, I've seen worse behavior than this kid's show. However, I have never been more flabbergasted. Seriously. Except for the mild discomfort of using chalk pastels, she had nothing to complain about! She wasn't hungry, or thirsty. The entire class was free to get up and use the restroom and the water fountain without constantly raising their hands to ask - the room was large enough and the class was small enough for that. I planned breaks. I kept morale up. I praised and commented on their art honestly. I was available to help. I circulated, monitoring closely, but still giving them space. I demonstrated. I told jokes and stories. I related art to their lives.

Explosions of behavior, I get. I don't always manage ideally, but I manage. This kind of sulking is scary to me. It's dangerous. It's to be stamped out as soon as possible, or avoided at all costs.

That is, if it isn't something the kid can't control. I wonder, ever more now as I'm reflecting here, is it a disability that I don't know about? This kid was especially sensitive to temperature. I had a fan on in the room, because there was no a/c and the past few days have been triple digits. The fan wasn't pointed at her, or any of the students, but she often screwed up her face and complained about it. Is there a learning disability that makes kids super sensitive to temperature and depresses social skills in seven year olds?

Remember this book? This seven year old reminds me of the older brother and the disease he had. I don't know which is worse: to have this behavior be side effects from a genetic disorder, or to have it be a learned response from habits done at home.

Harry Potter

Sure, one can argue that there are better, deeper, more well-written children's books out there. I would agree, actually.

That doesn't mean HP isn't good. It's top notch, among the best. And to think: I didn't used to like it! That was when only the first three books had been published, and I had not read any of them, but I wasn't impressed with all the hype and huffle about it, so I didn't try. Good thing I got over that.

But really, there is nothing like reading through the entire Harry Potter series in the summer - the fact that they were all released in the summer probably influenced this opinion. Looking forward to a new adventure every other year? Yeah! This has been my summer tradition for the past five years and it's awesome. It's what summer is all about - barbecues, road trips, enjoying large bodies of water, and reading Harry Potter until my eyes are fried.

Conundrum

Not as relaxed as this one.

Here's an article for reading. Well, all articles are for reading I suppose, but this one leaves me rather mixed in thoughts.

Agreements with article:

Yes. Money does not solve everything. Throwing a ton of cash at education does not necessarily make things fine and dandy - and even if it does, it won't happen overnight. Cutting costs can be good too. Things are changing rapidly in education - we drop strategies and pick up new ones every 2-3 years, it seems like. It'll be ok to do the same for financials too. It's kind of like why keep paying for Netflix when there are no good movies to watch.

Yes. Government intervention does sometimes persist something that is ready to slow down. Look at the corn industry. We have corn in nearly every single processed food item known to mankind, in part because of government subsidies to make corn cheap. I have a lot of faith in the natural process of supply and demand, and sometimes I think we mess up that natural process a little too much.

Disagreements with article:

Um. Why are you comparing percent change of something to absolute cost of something else? Wouldn't it be more informative to compare like with like? Of course absolute cost (adjusted for inflation) is going to go up - when has it ever NOT gone up? I would like to know more about the percent change in cost of education too. Are we spending more, or are we spending more than last year?

If the US economy needs fewer public school jobs, can you offer an alternative for people who are trained to teach? Because, you know, the US needs fewer people in the unemployment lines too. Ok, sure. There are charter schools and private schools, but I don't think they can absorb every single unemployed public school teacher out there. Same goes for tutoring, after-school programs, and overseas teaching. There's probably more alternatives I'm not seeing - what else, what else? Any suggestions?