HOLY BALLS I have a headache. A headache that pulsates with the sounds of middle-schoolers talking out of turn and laughing at things they will one day realize are not actually funny. Instead of having a song stuck in my head, I have, "But miss, it wasn't me!" and "(insert name), you need to sit down/stop talking/turn around/get to work" playing over and over.
I'm seeing myself revert to what I always do: wishing I could start over. I always tell myself, "If I could just go back and do it over, things would be SO much better!" Yeah, obviously. Because I would know what happens otherwise. I know that this is an excellent learning opportunity for me, that this is what student teaching is all about, that I will learn for next time what I should have done and for this time - and possibly any time in the future - what to do reactively and what kind of classroom management style is all my own. That last one I also know will not be totally developed in the span of a single semester, which is fine; I'm not supposed to have it all down, just a moderately solid idea.
I talked to my cooperating teacher after class and then called my mom (after calling three students' parents! mwahahaha) on my way to work, because she's been teaching since before she even met my dad and knows pretty much everything. They both agree that I need to start cracking down (I taught the kids that idiom a couple of weeks ago…if they don't remember what it means, they will soon enough!). My mom also suggested a new seating arrangement - a must, I already decided with my CT - that involves moving the kids as far away from one another as possible. While that could sound to some like a drastic last-ditch effort, I think it could work, especially with such a small class. They enjoy being near each other, but that is exactly what gets them all off track. Moving them apart is not so much a punishment as an introduction to a "new" class atmosphere. As they learn to participate respectfully and appropriately, they can move back toward the center. She also suggested a class meeting, of which I am totally in favor: I will lay upon them the responsibility of developing a new set of class "Standards, Expectations, and Procedures" (a.k.a. "rules"), as well as the rewards for following/meeting them and the consequences for not doing so. Hopefully, this will help them take some ownership of the class and how it proceeds, as well as teaching them to hold one another accountable. This will also (ideally) help in that these are not my rules, but rather theirs. That means that when they refuse to meet one of those expectations, I can turn it back around and say, "You thought this was important. This was your rule."
So we'll see how it goes. I'm trying to not get too discouraged. I'm trying even harder to not let myself start to think, "Maybe I just can't teach in an urban school." I don't want to give up that easily. I don't want to give up at all, actually. I just keep telling myself what other (extremely successful) teachers have told me before: "You just have to grow some balls and be a b*tch. It's gonna suck for a little while, but then it'll be awesome for a lot longer."
Oh, also, today my CT told me I'm a softie. Womp womp.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Sunday, October 20, 2013
eek!
I just gotta say this really quick before I chicken out: I am a little bit terrified. Tomorrow I take over the classes for realsies. Granted, I've been teaching the 7th-grade class solo for weeks now, so that won't be much different. And I know the 8th-graders well enough by now; they're just not used to me being their only teacher. I kinda (actually, I really) want to be a bit more firm and strict than we have been recently, but I'm not totally sure how to do that without just being unrealistically nit-picky (something I've been trying to actively work on NOT being). The other factor is that I'm planning these units entirely on my own, and while planning is actually enjoyable to me (gross, right?), I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing this week (or in any of the weeks following). I do have M-W planned solidly, though…that's enough for a Sunday night, right?
All that said, I actually do feel kind of excited about the lesson tomorrow. I really believe it will be fun - as long as they don't get totally out of control with it. But I'm using my trusty on-screen timer* and (I think) quick and natural transitions, so hopefully there won't really be any time to get out of control anyway.
Oy vey. Wish me luck.
*To any teachers/student teachers/pre-service teachers/whatever NOT using a timer regularly, I highly recommend you try it! Especially in classes that are tough to get going or that contain a number of students who like to get distracted or distract others. I've only been using it for a couple of days - despite the advice practically every teacher I've ever met has given me - and it has really made an obvious change in the way class moves along. The students don't necessarily all finish their work - probably have to give it a bit more than a few days for them to really get the hang of working quickly - but they realize that the time that they waste talking and goofing around will NOT be made up. (Two points I feel I should make: 1) the goal is not necessarily to teach them to always work quickly, but rather teaching them to get and stay focused and to take ownership and responsibility for the time they spend in class; 2) I am certainly not against make-up work, but both of our classes have had serious issues with getting work done in class in the time allotted, so I want them all to learn that class time is, indeed, for working.)
All that said, I actually do feel kind of excited about the lesson tomorrow. I really believe it will be fun - as long as they don't get totally out of control with it. But I'm using my trusty on-screen timer* and (I think) quick and natural transitions, so hopefully there won't really be any time to get out of control anyway.
Oy vey. Wish me luck.
*To any teachers/student teachers/pre-service teachers/whatever NOT using a timer regularly, I highly recommend you try it! Especially in classes that are tough to get going or that contain a number of students who like to get distracted or distract others. I've only been using it for a couple of days - despite the advice practically every teacher I've ever met has given me - and it has really made an obvious change in the way class moves along. The students don't necessarily all finish their work - probably have to give it a bit more than a few days for them to really get the hang of working quickly - but they realize that the time that they waste talking and goofing around will NOT be made up. (Two points I feel I should make: 1) the goal is not necessarily to teach them to always work quickly, but rather teaching them to get and stay focused and to take ownership and responsibility for the time they spend in class; 2) I am certainly not against make-up work, but both of our classes have had serious issues with getting work done in class in the time allotted, so I want them all to learn that class time is, indeed, for working.)
Here's a picture that always makes me smile because why not right now?
G'night!
Monday, September 30, 2013
to school
Near the end of the summer break, I made the decision - I even publicly announced it - that I would blog weekly, if not daily, about my experiences student teaching.
Yeah…about that.
I would like to say I've simply been too busy, so darn busy that I can't even think straight. While that is, to some extent, true, it's not the whole reason: the rest is simply that I've been lazy. I typically get home between 5:30 and 6, 5 if I bolt right at the bell, and usually after an hour-long drive. (The school is 25 miles away, and 25 miles in rush-hour traffic - well, you get the picture.) I know that sitting in traffic requires minimal physical effort other than that required to stay awake, but still, the last thing I want to do when I get home is think about anything, especially school-related anythings. Please don't take that the wrong way: I adore my students, and even after the most frustrating of days, I often wake up the next morning actively brainstorming what I can do that will make that day better than the previous one. The only times I ever even remotely question my decision to become a teacher is on Sunday nights, and that's mostly because I can feel the physical weight of what's left of last week's missed-out-on sleep resting heavily on my shoulders. Truly, other than that, I love my job.
But I've been tired and busy and lazy, and I have allowed those reasons to keep me from blogging. At all. As days and weeks have passed, I have felt increasingly more concerned about the fact that I have more and more to write. This means more time I need to spend writing it, which, in turn, makes me once again feel tired and unmotivated.
But not today! It's time I took a stand against my laziness and started writing already. After all, I tell my kids that I write every day. Little do they know that, up until right now, that "writing" has been lesson plans and daily warm-ups/exit tickets.
I suppose, for now, I can start with a (vague) description of my setting. I am, voluntarily, at a low-income school, a.k.a. "urban" - defined not by its location, but rather by its student body demographics: a certain percentage or higher of students who fall into minority racial categories plus a certain percentage of students enrolled in the Free and Reduced Lunch program (meaning they/their parents can't afford to buy or provide lunch for them). In other words, kids whose families have a low socioeconomic status and are typically minorities. Why teach in a school like that, you ask? Well, I would counter, why not? It's a school, they're kids, they need learnin', and that's that. Yeah, things are different. The behavior issues are quite different than what one will likely see in a suburban or predominantly white school - though, of course, kids who attend those such schools act out in their own manners. The students at urban schools experience and deal with things in their homes and communities that many who come from almost anywhere else cannot imagine - though, of course, kids who attend affluent schools have their own home and family issues with which to contend. The budgets at urban schools are quite low, often meaning that teachers are paid less, raises (which should occur annually - more $ for more experience) might happen sparsely if at all, and - worst of all - supplies are far from readily available, meaning that teachers must often teach with limited or outdated materials, technology is often unavailable, and extracurricular programs are in constant danger of being cut, either in part or altogether. (The money thing might not affect affluent schools quite as much.)
Really, though, that doesn't sound so miserable to me. Granted, I am fortunate enough to be in one of the better-run urban schools in this particular district - I have heard horror stories from teachers who have observed or worked in some of the neighboring schools, and, to be quite honest, it terrifies me. But it does no good to think about those fears. Trust me: I had plenty of them even going into this semester, when I knew I would be teaching alongside a woman with a decade of experience and who is regarded by everyone in the building as one of the best assets the school currently has. Those fears kept me up at night. They still do on occasion. Honestly, I'm sure they will in the future. But the fears are not greater than the outcomes, and they are certainly not better than the day-to-day joys and successes. Even of the worst of days, there are small successes. And, honestly, even if a kid is horrendous - a true, scaly, fire-breathing monster - at least they're being horrendous at school, not on the streets. I know it sounds cheesy, but our kids inspire me, they really do. (I can see every one of my students rolling their eyes at me as I think this.) The things they see, the pains they suffer, and yet (almost) every day, they're in school. They may not always participate, and they certainly may not always want to be there, but they are. When I wake up at 5 in the morning for the fourth day in a row and I'm feeling groggy and unenthusiastic and all I can think about is when I will get to go to bed later that night, I think of my kids. They'll be there, so I sure as hell better be.
Yeah…about that.
I would like to say I've simply been too busy, so darn busy that I can't even think straight. While that is, to some extent, true, it's not the whole reason: the rest is simply that I've been lazy. I typically get home between 5:30 and 6, 5 if I bolt right at the bell, and usually after an hour-long drive. (The school is 25 miles away, and 25 miles in rush-hour traffic - well, you get the picture.) I know that sitting in traffic requires minimal physical effort other than that required to stay awake, but still, the last thing I want to do when I get home is think about anything, especially school-related anythings. Please don't take that the wrong way: I adore my students, and even after the most frustrating of days, I often wake up the next morning actively brainstorming what I can do that will make that day better than the previous one. The only times I ever even remotely question my decision to become a teacher is on Sunday nights, and that's mostly because I can feel the physical weight of what's left of last week's missed-out-on sleep resting heavily on my shoulders. Truly, other than that, I love my job.
But I've been tired and busy and lazy, and I have allowed those reasons to keep me from blogging. At all. As days and weeks have passed, I have felt increasingly more concerned about the fact that I have more and more to write. This means more time I need to spend writing it, which, in turn, makes me once again feel tired and unmotivated.
But not today! It's time I took a stand against my laziness and started writing already. After all, I tell my kids that I write every day. Little do they know that, up until right now, that "writing" has been lesson plans and daily warm-ups/exit tickets.
I suppose, for now, I can start with a (vague) description of my setting. I am, voluntarily, at a low-income school, a.k.a. "urban" - defined not by its location, but rather by its student body demographics: a certain percentage or higher of students who fall into minority racial categories plus a certain percentage of students enrolled in the Free and Reduced Lunch program (meaning they/their parents can't afford to buy or provide lunch for them). In other words, kids whose families have a low socioeconomic status and are typically minorities. Why teach in a school like that, you ask? Well, I would counter, why not? It's a school, they're kids, they need learnin', and that's that. Yeah, things are different. The behavior issues are quite different than what one will likely see in a suburban or predominantly white school - though, of course, kids who attend those such schools act out in their own manners. The students at urban schools experience and deal with things in their homes and communities that many who come from almost anywhere else cannot imagine - though, of course, kids who attend affluent schools have their own home and family issues with which to contend. The budgets at urban schools are quite low, often meaning that teachers are paid less, raises (which should occur annually - more $ for more experience) might happen sparsely if at all, and - worst of all - supplies are far from readily available, meaning that teachers must often teach with limited or outdated materials, technology is often unavailable, and extracurricular programs are in constant danger of being cut, either in part or altogether. (The money thing might not affect affluent schools quite as much.)
Really, though, that doesn't sound so miserable to me. Granted, I am fortunate enough to be in one of the better-run urban schools in this particular district - I have heard horror stories from teachers who have observed or worked in some of the neighboring schools, and, to be quite honest, it terrifies me. But it does no good to think about those fears. Trust me: I had plenty of them even going into this semester, when I knew I would be teaching alongside a woman with a decade of experience and who is regarded by everyone in the building as one of the best assets the school currently has. Those fears kept me up at night. They still do on occasion. Honestly, I'm sure they will in the future. But the fears are not greater than the outcomes, and they are certainly not better than the day-to-day joys and successes. Even of the worst of days, there are small successes. And, honestly, even if a kid is horrendous - a true, scaly, fire-breathing monster - at least they're being horrendous at school, not on the streets. I know it sounds cheesy, but our kids inspire me, they really do. (I can see every one of my students rolling their eyes at me as I think this.) The things they see, the pains they suffer, and yet (almost) every day, they're in school. They may not always participate, and they certainly may not always want to be there, but they are. When I wake up at 5 in the morning for the fourth day in a row and I'm feeling groggy and unenthusiastic and all I can think about is when I will get to go to bed later that night, I think of my kids. They'll be there, so I sure as hell better be.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
the Shakes
Can I just take a minute and talk about the love I have for William Shakespeare?
I mean, it's almost obsessive.
Not, like, "I would give anything for one legendary wild night with the man" kind of obsessive - much more along the lines of, "I am physically aching with the desire/need to read, analyze, and perhaps discuss some Shakespeare." Seriously, I'm craving it.
Part of the problem is that I simply have not had time to read anything for pleasure, other than the occasional Buzzfeed article or Twitter post, in more than a month. I took my last-ever undergraduate literature class this summer - Myth, Symbol, and Allusion - and it left me with a fiery yearning for some good, deep lit that I have just not been able to satisfy. All I've been able to think about lately, though, is how much I want to read some darn Shakespeare! I can't get it out of my head.
I want to re-read those that I've already come to love (and, in the case of Henry V, memorize), particularly Hamlet and the sonnets. I additionally want to read those that I haven't ever read before, such as Othello, Coriolanus, and Twelfth Night. *I would also REALLY LOVE to see Joss Whedon's Much Ado About Nothing; it looks marvelous. Netflix…?* I need something into which I can immerse myself, something that simultaneously carries me along and forces me to examine things - both in the text and in the real world - a little more deliberately.
Other Shakespeare-related things I would really love to do? Visit London; make a stop (or even see a play!) at the Globe; hang out, maybe eat brunch, and definitely have some tea in Stratford-upon-Avon; visit everywhere else in the U.K.; read virtually any work of his at Book Club; take another Shakespeare literature class; maybe take a Shakespeare acting class or workshop, because performing it is far different from reading it; and, of course, spend an afternoon with the man. Seeing as how that last one is, sadly, utterly impossible, it would be almost as neat to just hang out with other Shakespeare geeks for a whole day, maybe two, and talk it all out. This would be especially magical if at least one participant spoke with a legitimate British accent.
So why am I writing all of this instead of reading right now?
Good question. I'm off to Agincourt to witness some literary heroics.
I mean, it's almost obsessive.
Not, like, "I would give anything for one legendary wild night with the man" kind of obsessive - much more along the lines of, "I am physically aching with the desire/need to read, analyze, and perhaps discuss some Shakespeare." Seriously, I'm craving it.
Part of the problem is that I simply have not had time to read anything for pleasure, other than the occasional Buzzfeed article or Twitter post, in more than a month. I took my last-ever undergraduate literature class this summer - Myth, Symbol, and Allusion - and it left me with a fiery yearning for some good, deep lit that I have just not been able to satisfy. All I've been able to think about lately, though, is how much I want to read some darn Shakespeare! I can't get it out of my head.
I want to re-read those that I've already come to love (and, in the case of Henry V, memorize), particularly Hamlet and the sonnets. I additionally want to read those that I haven't ever read before, such as Othello, Coriolanus, and Twelfth Night. *I would also REALLY LOVE to see Joss Whedon's Much Ado About Nothing; it looks marvelous. Netflix…?* I need something into which I can immerse myself, something that simultaneously carries me along and forces me to examine things - both in the text and in the real world - a little more deliberately.
Other Shakespeare-related things I would really love to do? Visit London; make a stop (or even see a play!) at the Globe; hang out, maybe eat brunch, and definitely have some tea in Stratford-upon-Avon; visit everywhere else in the U.K.; read virtually any work of his at Book Club; take another Shakespeare literature class; maybe take a Shakespeare acting class or workshop, because performing it is far different from reading it; and, of course, spend an afternoon with the man. Seeing as how that last one is, sadly, utterly impossible, it would be almost as neat to just hang out with other Shakespeare geeks for a whole day, maybe two, and talk it all out. This would be especially magical if at least one participant spoke with a legitimate British accent.
So why am I writing all of this instead of reading right now?
Good question. I'm off to Agincourt to witness some literary heroics.
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