As I lay in bed this morning, sleeping in to the delicious hour of 6:50, I allowed myself to sift through all the mental stacks of paper that need sorting out, but I haven't yet had the time to arrange. Christmas presents still to be mailed, what to do with my kids the next couple of days. My five year old sons pitter-pattering feet in the hall temporarity interrupted my reveries, but he climbed in to snuggle with me and quickly dozed off.
So what did my mind drift to next in such a rare moment of unrushed freedom? My students. After all, I am a teacher, and that is what we do, like moths to the flame (or insert a more pleasant simile here).
Some of you have been kind enough to read and comment on my diaries, and if you are one of them, please feel free to skip ahead or scan through this first part, as it will seem repetetive.
This year, my fourth as an elementary school teacher, has been nearly as challenging (to use a polite word) as my first year, when I felt like I was drinking through a fire hydrant for much of the year. It started out on a wonderful plane. My bilingual (Spanish) 4th grade class was small, only 12 students, due to change made at the district level. In prior years I had a mix of students from all English (including Latino, Anglo, Asian American and African American students), to some English, to truly bilingual, to Spanish only. I actually found that this was a great mix of students, despite how hard it was to teach to so many different linguistic abilities. But this year, it was exclusively students in the Bilingual program.
Since I am a self-contained teacher (everything but Music, Computers, Library and PE), my students and I get to know each other very well. We tend to become quite close-knit. Within the first week, I could tell that this class was already going to be something special. We quickly found a good vibe, students were getting along, they were eager to work, and I didn't have any high maintenance students (my problem with these students tends to be MY problem, not theirs, as I devote myself to them perhaps a little too much). The class has a hum to it as we worked along, and there was a sweetness pervading our days.
Then, my principal called me into his office to let me know that there was good and bad news. Crap. Even though I had twelve students (the number the district had set as a minimum), and undoubtedly would add a few more as the year went by, the district had decided to consolidate them into another school's class. That was the bad news. The "good" news was that they were going to open a 1st grade bilingual class at my school and I could teach that one. I also got to keep my bilingual stipend, which would be hard to live without.
So, I made the switch. it happend to occur over a long weekend in which I had to go out of town to a friend's son's Bar Mitzvah (my first one!). I din't even really get a chance to say a proper goodbye to my students. They left me some notes, which I couldn't manage to make myself read for several weeks. My sub told me they had been crying. I did read the notes, and each one was a small treasure, with words and drawings so honest and sweet, and so meaningful. I can hardly write about them. Those of you whom have had such notes know what they can mean. They are among the great rewards we get for teaching.
I came back from my trip, and I had about three hours to unpack the boxes in my new classroom I had packed before I left on my trip (yes, on top of it all I had to move rooms...). I had never taught 1st before, but I am certified to do it, and have volunteered with younger kids. Even so, I did not feel prepared, and the physical sense of disorder in my room accentuated the sense of disorder I felt about teaching my new students.
On top of it all, I had an even smaller class than before (I am certainly NOT complaining, and I know some of you will stop reading to go throw up...). My new class consists of ten, yes 10, students! I thank my lucky stars every day when I look around. Believe it or not, it does have some drawbacks. And this brings up one of the most difficult challenges of this year. My students seem to feel completely unrestrained, perhaps because there are so few of them. They get up and run to the board to point out things I have written down (sometimes there are four of them up there), they feel free to shout out answers and other things. They roam the room, apprarently randomly at times. I do realize that some of this is due to the fact of their age, but also, I have some classroom management issues that I have unsuccessfully navigated so far.
In 1st grade, we concentrate on Reading, Reading, Reading (and a bit of Math). I feel this deep sense of responsibilty, as well as honored, to get to teach these kids something so important and transforming as the power to read (and write). My district, however, has set incredibly high goals for my students to reach. Of course, their scores and progress are closely monitored, and I dutifully send them in every six weeks on a spreadsheet to my principal. Rationally, only about half of my students have a chance to make the district's goal (compounded by the fact that the goal is in ENGLISH, and nearly all my students don't speak ENGLISH, have no one at home who speaks ENGLISH, and have a very limited vocabulary in ENGLISH). Do I seem a bit pissed off about this? I am. Plus, we have been graciously (!) awarded "incentive" money by Governor GoodHair Perry, which means that not only will I be getting little of it (which I didn't want or ask for or vote for in the first place), but my scores will bring down the grade level scores and cost my colleagues money. Not happy about that most of all. I'll write a diary about that in the future.
I do want my students to succeed, and these are the goals I have to work with, so I am doing my best to get the job done. It is especially tough for these immigrant kids, and I need to do a better job for them (which will make me happier as well). But I have struggled so far, and am frustrated with my inability to get my lower-scoring students to where the district wants them to be. I haven't found the right magic yet, so it's time to roll up the sleeves (again--now they're up to my shoulders), and try, try again.
I am zealously possessive of my own time, since I have young kids of my own. In my previous life in academia, I was not very good at separating work from the rest of life, and it was not good on a professional or personal level.
But, things have to change in my class, and thus, I am going in over the break to change some things in my room, including the physical layout, things on the wall, materials, centers, and just to get better organized. I actually went to some good staff development sessions and conferences this fall, and am going to try some of the ideas I've heard. I'm going to transform my classroom management, work to make them more independent, more options to work on, less dependent on me for constant guidance. I have some grant money for supplies, and am going to stock up on all sorts of materials and books, books books!. I'm going to get in more Science and Social Studies, too, dammit! My students and I deserve nothing less, so I am going to find a way to make it happen.
So, here I am at the Winter Break, and what's on my mind? My students. After all, I am a teacher. Peace.