This I Believe

I believe that learning is...

• a social activity that requires interaction between individuals
• retained best when the learner has the chance to work with the information
• most interesting when constructed by the learner, at least to some extent
• an active process rather than a passive one

This might explain why I hate, hate, hate so many of the meetings I have to attend as a teacher.

This would happen on a no break day.

Because I was not planned for math and was going to "plan" for math during the library lesson, the following things happened:

- Meeting explaining strategy lab game bridge kits to the faculty; a pet project of mine, the GT resource teacher, and the intersession coordinator: 7:30 am

- Fire alarm: 7:25 - 7:45 am

- Phoned in lice scare, potential of class quarantine; and an investment in fine toothed combs: 8:00 am

- Room declared lice free: 10:00 am

- Room temperature determined as "warm:" 10:30 am

- Room temperature declared "tropical:" Noon

- Room declared "too hot to think:" 2:00 pm

- Lines and angles lesson moved to the playground: 2:15 pm

Traffic Jam - A Good Thing

The feet in the picture from the previous post are trying to solve a traffic jam. Mister Teacher thought the idea sounded intriguing and I'd have to say he's right. Of all the team building, community building activities I do during the first week or so, it is by far my favorite. I save it for last because it's my favorite and because it's very challenging.

I'm sorry to say that I don't recall where I found the activity (somewhere out on the worldwide web), but I'm sure it is floating around in various forms. The way we do it involves seven pieces of construction paper and at least six students. We lay the construction papers on the floor in a row as stepping stones (surely there are cooler, more interesting things we could use, but construction paper is handy). Three kids stand on the three at one end and three kids stand on the three at the other end leaving the one in the middle free. The goal is to get the kids to the opposite ends. They can only move forward, can only move onto an empty stone, and can only go around one person.

I never have an exact multiple of six in my class, of course. So some students end up being 'directors'. It's really helpful to have someone who can see the big picture. Once the students have figured out the strategy (and can actually repeat it) I put them into bigger groups. Eventually, we have the entire class work their way through one big traffic jam.

Watching them work it out teaches me a lot about them. Some students spend time with their white boards drawing pictures to try various options. Others grab whatever manipulatives are closest in order to move them around. Some just stand around on their stones and move when other, more alpha-students, tell them to. It's noisy and chaotic and fun.

Cooperation, not Competition

My focus during the first week of school has become to mold my students into the opposite of what they naturally are. Fifth graders are competitive. I refuse to spend the entire year battling this. So, during the first week we do all sorts of team building activities to start off on the right foot. (I'm not convinced it will work, but it seems worth a try.)
These feet are trying to figure out how to sort out their traffic jam. Watching ten year olds struggle with a problem is alternately hilarious and mind-numbing. I spend a lot of time biting my tongue to keep from telling them how to do it. Their joy upon finding a solution is astoundingly contagious. I'm not sure any real lessons will be taken from these activities, but I think they are worth our time.

Teaching: Take Two

This first week of school has shown me that I have to do things at least twice before I can get them right. I'm not sure if that is a sign that I am constantly learning as a teacher or a sign that I don't think about things enough ahead of time. Either way, I feel bad for the group of students who have to be the guinea pigs.

Of course, maybe even the second time isn't really 'right'. Maybe it's just better than the first time. Do all teachers second-guess themselves this much?

In a related thought, I'm noticing that many of most successful activities, lessons, moments in my classroom are unplanned. Either I have great luck, good instincts, or both. But it brings me back to wondering if I don't think about things enough ahead of time. If I did a better job planning, would I manage to have even more of these moments?

Year 4 Week 1 Reflection

Stats:
Students: 22
Boys: More then half.
Round face kids with chronic bed head: None, which is very distressing.
Tears: NONE!!! A miracle.
Working computers: 3
Working printers: None in my room.
Puking incidents: 1

This is the first year EVER that one (or more) of the boys did not break down in tears on multiple days. No tears. From anyone. At all. Wow. I could make the argument that the "summer" mellowed me. That after years of tears, I have become a nicer, gentler teacher. That I am more sensitive to the needs of my emotional fragile students, having once been a sensitive student myself.

But who would I be kidding. My two week stint at curriculum development left me cold and angry. Even my stapler stayed away, not willing to take the abuse I would smack it with. Last week was no nonsense, straight lines, and listen to the directions once because I am not repeating them twice. If I was 10, I would have been in tears. But these fourth grades are of stronger stock then I. It will take more then high expectations, stern discipline, and vague, open ended assignments to make these kids tear.

Wow. No tears. I am still flabbergasted.

Here We Go Again...

The students return to school tomorrow. This will be my tenth year of teaching and I'm not feeling the same sort of butterflies that I remember from previous years. I've managed to spend most of this weekend not even thinking about the start of the year. I'm not sure that is a good thing.

One of the positive aspects of the modified calendar is that we start school on a Monday. We get to ease into things with the kids. We had open house on Friday and I met 2/3 of my class. I know most of them from last year, but not too well. It promises to be an exciting year.

Every year is a fresh start in schools - both for the students and for the teachers. Every year I have grand schemes for things I want to accomplish and ways I want things to go. There is no promise that this year I'm more likely to stick to those goals than any other year, but I'll give it a shot one more time.

Too Much Responsibility

It's often said that teachers wear many hats. Over the last ten years I've adjusted to most of them. We serve as guides, counselors, parents, coaches, etc. However, a training this morning pushed me over the edge. I felt as though my responsibilities as a teacher were too much. I was trained (along with my entire team and some specialists) in administering a shot in the case of diabetic students going into insulin shock. It seems there are two diabetic students in fifth grade, neither in my class, and all of us need to be prepared.

I dated a diabetic for several years in college and felt like I had a pretty good understanding of what to expect. I have an idea of what to watch for (which is a challenge since it varies so greatly by individual) and how to help if a student's blood sugar is dropping. The shot we learned about is only for extreme emergencies; the student would be unconscious before we use it. It is rare that school personnel ever have to administer it. However, by the end of the training as we were jabbing syringes into sponges to practice the procedure I felt like it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Somehow, this training in something that I was highly unlikely to ever need reinforced for me how responsible I am as a teacher.

Parents entrust their children to us seven hours a day, five days a week. They expect us to teach them reading, writing, math, science, social studies, and such. But, even more basic, they expect us to keep them safe. I've laughed at Tree because she keeps her classroom door locked at all times, just in case. Maybe she has something there...

Holy Toledo!!

Not ready is such a mild way of describing how I feel about tomorrow's open house. I can think of many curse words that would put it better, but this is a PG site. (Except for my occasional references to that yummy liquid comfort and cure all.)

How will I ever get it all done? Surveys to print, signs to post, check sheets to make, books to stack. When I look at it in black and white, here, at my home, in the comfort of my sweet drenched shirt, Weezer pounding in my heart, wine still buzzing in my brain, it doesn't look so bad. My stomach doesn't agree, it is still in knots. My brain is convinced it is the wine on an empty stomach. My brain doesn't want me to remember that the xerox machine will eat my surveys just because. Or that my printer has yet to work this week. And forget about the fact that I am still not sure where my math journals are. I have bigger fish to fry. Like, Where is my stapler? Does my student teacher think I am crazy? and Why didn't I record every minute of last year so I can remember how to be a teacher?

Broken hand and bad math do not a one way ticket make. This worker can't seem to go home.

I think I might be stressing out my intern.

Or that she is just terrified of me. Why else would she willingly clean out my desk?