Sorry if I snapped at you 40 minutes ago. It was displaced anger.

At the end of the day I was So Very Angry that I could not articulate my frustration into anything but simple sentences. Simple sentences and curse words. Don't worry, the curse words came after school. Right before I hid in a corner so that I could not inflict my wicked witch furry on unsuspecting nice people.

I think I might have shocked some people, mainly the 20 little people who swarm around me like little bees. They often see my anger. A cold, calm anger about raising hands and sharing. I accompany that anger with a confused look of "Really? We are spending time for this? Especially since I know you know how to solve that problem." We laugh about that anger, we tease it out and sing songs about.

Today’s anger - that was something special. A hot, boiling anger of a disappointment and disgust. This anger does not come out often. It is scary and sharp. Full of bite. This anger is let down anger. As in, I gave you me heart and all you gave me was this pen, anger. Without realizing it, I have changed as a teacher, and my anger mirrors this change.

Naturally, I am cold and distant. I have enough friends, I have enough loved ones. School is business. However, in my joy of reading, writing, mathing, and historying, I have spilled some tightly sealed care. Something I tightly guard, because with care runs with the same crowd as disappointment and loss. Feelings my light personality do not enjoy. But I do care. I do care that my little bees enjoy learning, I do care that they feel confident in their abilities. I do care because I like to see them happy. My self worth and happiness has become intertwined with their self worth and happiness. I am not their queen bee; I am their mama bee.

So, my wee ones, I am sorry I let you down, but you let me down too. But if you are going to love me, you are going to have to love all the things about me. And I love you.

12 Steps

I observed reading recovery again yesterday. (Just as an aside, the little boy I got to see was enough to convince even the most anti-child individual to become a teacher. I've never seen a harder or more eager worker and he's just so darn cute.)

I'm becoming fascinated by the idea of reading recovery (RR) as a 12-step program; if just a little concerned that I might take the metaphor too far. Having done some research on the 12 steps of AA I am even more concerned that attempting the metaphor will become blasphemous. I was unaware of how large a role God plays in the 12 steps. While I might view books, reading, authors, etc. as Gods, others may feel quite differently.

What would the 12 steps of RR look like?

Shots of Reading

or, Reading from a Flask

I love the idea of Reading as a 12 step program. With the purpose of creating new addicts, rather then giving them alternatives (guided by a higher power) to resist their temptation.

Reading Recovery - Misnamed?

What is it we think these kids are recovering from? Reading recovery isn't a 12 step program, unless I've missed a key component.

I observed a reading recovery lesson recently and found it fascinating. As an upper grade teacher I know that I have very limited knowledge of primary development. As a general rule all of my students are able to decode quite well and make sense of their reading most of the time. My goal is to help them think more deeply about text, become comfortable with various types of text, move on to more complex text, and make connections between reading and writing. To some extent, all of this is happening in reading recovery as well. It is truly astounding what can be accomplished working one-on-one with a child every day for an extended period. I haven't yet determined what that means for me as a fifth grade teacher, but I'm sure it means something!