what's the difference between scary and creepy?

While trying to explain how very cool it is that Neil Gaiman won the Newbery (which mostly consisted of me naming other books and sighing: The Hero and The Crown! The Tale of Desperaux! The Witch of Blackbird Pond! A Wrinkle in Time!) I also starting blathering on about Coraline, another book of Gaiman's that was very, very popular in my classroom. To begin with, it had the three magic elements that attract middle school ambivalent readers: it looked short; it looked scary; it looked simple. Of course, all of those things were merely ways into the book. Although it was short, the story it told was complete and felt world-shaping. Although it looked scary, it was really *creepy* (more on that later). And, although it looked simple, the story, and the conversations it prompted in my classroom, proved it was anything but.

My favourite conversation of all was between two of my most-anti-reading girls. After nearly two years with me (and improving their reading levels a LOT), they were now willing to read, but still very picky and demanding about the amount of effort they had to put into the process. These were girls who would rather read a "meh" book that demanded less of them than an excellent book they would have to work at. (Of course, they were also Twilight obsessed, but that's a different story). Coraline, though, Coraline got passed around the group like some sort of trifecta pick: the teacher liked it, the students liked it, the parents liked it.

Why was that? Well, everyone comes to a book from a different place, but I think these girls liked Coraline because it felt like an adventure. Also, though, because (as I overheard one day... what? teachers are consummate eavesdroppers!)

Dude, Coraline isn't SCARY. Scary is, like, Nightmare on Elm Street. Scary's not REAL. Coraline is CREEPY. I kept thinking that if I opened the wrong door at my own house, I'd end up somewhere really not good.

(13 year old girl)

So that was the magic then. These girls never really connected with Harry Potter, Frodo, or Merlin. Their lives were, quite frankly, too fraught with REAL danger to tolerate fantasy danger. But, they did connect with Coraline--the danger she faced, evil adults and world that made no sense, was something they felt was more real. It was creepy not scary. And they loved it.

Now, why they loved the completely unreal and unbelievably perfect Edward and Jacob is fodder for another post. continue on...

so...

I may have effectively burned myself on packing. I just cannot bring myself to pack another item. Any item. I'm staring at the mess that is my house and squinching my eyes in an effort to make all of the stuff I still need to pack disappear.
It's not working, so I decided to write a post about it instead. Think it's gone now?

As a teaching aside, I just bought "Greater Expectations". It looks good! continue on...

A list. Again.

I've been asked a few times what 'magic' I use to match my kids with books. It's not really a trick, I just have a large store of books in my head, and I basically shuffle through them in a effort to match maturity level, interest, and possibilities to spur further reading.
It's not much use just sitting there in my head though, so I turned to Web 2.0

And created a wiki at pb wiki for just this purpose. It can be found here, and I would love more input than just mine. Even if you don't teach language arts, or middle school, I would love to hear recommendations and suggestions for books for our students to read, from the littlest to the biggest.
Check it out! continue on...

technology, teaching, time

And, we are learning about technology again. It's too bad that teachers only get this sort of thing in one day snippets. I feel as if there is no way to get anything really accomplished when people have time to really explore and then come back and ask questions.
One of the greatest things about teachers is that they are (usually) eager to learn new things. One of the most difficult parts of teaching as a profession is that the amount of time teachers are given to learn new things is effectively---none. Which means, of course, that teachers need to use their free time to keep up with what is going on--creating a constant tension between work and, you know, the rest of life.

What does this have to do with technology? Technology has the potential to free up some of that time, to create some knowledge, to make the search for knowledge quicker and more accurate. It also, of course, has the potential to waste enormous amounts of time, but so does television and reading wikipedia and education blogs must do a little bit more for your mind right?

Teachers know that their students need time to learn, time to engage and think about what they have been exposed to, time to question and figure out what is going on. Teachers need that same opportunity; they need to have more time to learn the new stuff, and, of course, this needs to be an acknowledged part of their job, valued and supported, not a choice that pits personal necessity against teaching commitment. continue on...

awww, it's nice to hear nice things about yourself...

This year at promotion a number of my students were honored. As we were handing out the diplomas, a teacher-friend of mine noticed me stuffing some extra paper in a few of them.
"Whatcha doin?"
"Oh, I'm stuffing their nomination sheets into their folders. Even if they didn't win, it's nice to read nice things that someone else wrote about you."
"Hmmm"

I thought the conversation ended there, but apparently my friend took my words to heart because I just got a copy of a letter that, apparently, nominated me for teacher of the year at our school (I didn't win--our FANTASTIC science teacher won--and she is definitely an inspiring choice). The sentence that stood out the most for me was

"And she calls them "her kids" because each and every one of them is special to her. And because they know she values them, some of them perform only to make her happy..."

Now, I've often been asked why I have so few discipline problems (I'm youngish, and short, and...enthusiastic..so many people expect my classes to seem more chaotic than they are). I think this is why. I value each and every one of my students. Even the ones who stick noodles up one nostril to pull it out the other, or go home and "borrow" an Ipod from someone else (we got it back), or just generally have to struggle with school. I value and respect each and every one of them.

It was nice to hear someone thought the same of me.

continue on...

So, people think I'm lucky not be working...

Because of various things (marriage! moving!), I won't be starting the school year in a classroom come September. This is the first time since kindergarten (since I was in kindergarten) that I won't be "in school" in some form or another. At the end of June (with 8th grade promotion fast approaching), I hopped around with renewed energy. I would have time to myself! I would read! I would return to school for a PhD the next September and use the year off to prepare! I would grow as a person!
Two weeks later?

I miss my kids. I want my classroom back. I have so much to teach! What in the world am I going to do with myself if I don't have 64+ tweenagers to entertain, entice, and encourage?
I have no idea.
Suddenly, not working doesn't sound like much fun. continue on...

writing, reading, goals, and grades

My students turned in their Writer's Workshops today. Well, yesterday, but I've been grading them fairly constantly since yesterday afternoon, so the days have blurred together. As usual, my students have delighted and surprised me.

One of my favorite aspects of Writer's Workshop is that it allows so much student choice. A colleague of mine just gave his first ever assignment that allowed students to pick their topic, and he was shocked at the number of completed, and well-written, essays he got. I just grinned.

So far I've gotten letters to authors (which, if the author is living, I mail off), letters to me, letters to friends(real and imaginary) and several short stories. I've also gotten a few passionate essays on the dress-code and cell phones written with the pleading only present in middle school.

It's great fun. Of course, I also included an "essay" assignment in their contract, they do have to learn to write those, but because they were able to do other things that they wanted to do; the thing they had to do was made palatable. And easier. And more fun. continue on...

How do you hold a rainbow...

My entire district is *focusing* this year on reading comprehension. We are supposed to cross content, cultural, and literary lines in our quest to make sure our kids comprehend what they're reading.

But what does this mean?

Does it mean, as it often does, that we are really looking for a better product instead of looking at the process?

Does is mean that I can, finally, just teach my kids to enjoy reading and call it a day?

Or does it mean that I'll be sent to another few days of training to learn about how to teach vocabulary? Because, and I'll let anyone within hearing distance know this, vocabulary and reading comprehension are not the same. They are linked, sure, but I think it's much easier to get kids to read and have them learn vocabulary that way then to teach vocabulary and have them magically begin to read.

Sheesh.
continue on...

so, our math teacher has run out of desks

...my resource co-teacher has run out of patience, and I am just running around.

Wow, the end of September is way, way busy! One of my very good friends teaches math at the school, and she just had yet another student added to her class (a class that was already over the contract-mandated limit). So, now she's one desk short.

We have a new "resource" teacher this year. His job is to follow the students on his caseload from class to class and make sure they are getting the help, accommodation, and attention they need to do well. Unfortunately (for him and his students, really) my district has this awful habit of sticking the resource kids (who usually don't test well) with the EL kids (who also don't test well) with the.."high flyers" (who bubble in their own names on the scantron for the test). Now, each and any of these groups could be successful given the right help and interventions--but all of the groups? simultaneously? in one classroom? Makes for some headaches, I can tell you.

And me? I have a meeting every morning and every afternoon this week. Luckily, it's still early in the game so I'm not behind in anything else, but I sure will be at the end of the week!

That said.... One of kids requested today to go sit in the back during our spelling lesson--she had finally found a book (The Outsiders) that she thought was "worth" reading. So did I let her skip spelling to read today? You bet!
And smiled each time I looked at her curled up back there. continue on...

you're going to do WHAT?

I teach quite a few second language learners. I teach quite a few kids who just don't have a lot of exposure to the variety available in the English language. Luckily, we all have a few things in common, including a sense of humor.


Apparently, during math class, the teacher mentioned that she was "going to kill two birds with one stone." Now, these kids are very literal and very funny so this comment provokes two reactions--

1) Complete and utter shock! Their math teacher kills birds! And she's going to kill one right now! In class!
2) Hilarity, English is such a weird language!

They ran right over to tell me all about it. Then, they explained that the teacher had seen the panicked looks on their faces and explained that it was an "idiom." They told her they knew what an idiom was, but they were still glad she wasn't going to kill any birds. I love my students. continue on...

So, the great group experiment?

Has hit a snag. The snag is one of two things: either groups just don't work for my first block, or my first block just doesn't work for groups. Either way? They're kaput.
I've learned from the experiment though. First off, never, ever, ever, ever (see how important this is) convince yourself that that you will be able to focus completely on the eight children who are supposed to be with you for the period and ignore the rest. Well, I suppose someone else could convince themselves of that without disaster, but I (and my class) really need me to be where I'm needed that day, not where I'm scheduled to be that day.

And trust me, needs? They rarely meet up with schedules.

On the plus side, I really love the curriculum I've been planning, so I've just tweaked it into a "lesson a day" format where we all work together. I'm really excited about the skills I'm teaching, but we just weren't learning enough being in groups everyday--and I'm not willing to sacrifice three days out of four on some sort of busywork to keep kids out of my hair.

I also re-discovered my love for my toughest kids. These kids were driving me absolutely crazy during the groupwork. They wouldn't sit still; they couldn't finish anything on time; they just weren't getting it. I was starting to get totally, completely, frustrated. And then I stopped my groups.

And I got my focused, lovely, occasionally snarky kids back. Thank god. I'd missed them. continue on...

well, at least I *love* the reading skills

We have been commanded by our district to begin a new program to help out struggling readers. I've spoken of this before, and it's great to focus on reading and reading comprehension, and I *love* that it's not a "canned" program. But...
there's always a catch in education.

The catch here is that, almost because the program isn't canned and scripted, it is, instead, disjointed and impossible. I'm the last person to recommend any sort of scripted program, especially for reading, but the program cobbled together here is too unwieldy and confusing for the teachers, let alone the students.

So what have I done? What every teacher does--I've taken what I can use and applied it and have started going through what is impossible right now to reword it and make it at least palatable. My favorite bit of what I'm doing right now is meeting with each group of students in small groups once a week. I'm using this time to teach them a specific skill--whether it's a new way to summarize, a great way to write a topic sentence, or some tips for decoding--and then having them apply that skill to their reading that week. Then, we practice it the next week.

And it's working! This particular set up is good for me for two reasons--I have small manageable goals (always good in education and especially good with lower-level kids), and I'm staying organized. I know, it's some kind of miracle, but the "weekly" plan and the next week practice have really helped solidfy my teaching.

And I still haven't given up on the rest of the program, I guess we'll just have to wait and see. continue on...

sheesh, and people think teachers don't work very much

My life has crossed into an all new level of insanity this week. Hence, the lack of posts. Needless to say, tonight was Back to School Night, yesterday I drove a friend to the airport, tomorrow I have to get ready for a sub, and Friday I have a series of all day meetings.

Oh, and I forgot, tomorrow we have a fire drill (one period), a bonding activity (one period), and a shortened day (so, you know, I lose about a period total). The insanity.

I'm honestly surprised I can even type. My brain is so tired!

Such is the life. Hopefully, things will slow down next week. continue on...

you've got to accennntuate the positive....

So, first day in groups. Groups that (according to the "Mcleod Reading Test") we are supposed to be in all year.

And, you know, except for some of the pandemonium that the song I quoted above leads one to expect, it worked okay.

We had one group doing a guided reading exercise with me (we practiced taking a close look at the characters in the Giver), one group working on spelling sorts, one group working on projects related to the Giver, and a final group working on our Writer's Workshop Contract for this grading period.

They weren't totally productive, and I had to sacrifice the latter half of the period before to get them settled into their new seats, but, hey, we made it!
I really enjoyed working with my guided reading group. It was great to sit down and really just talk about reading strategies with a group of eight students. This, of course, led me to wonder what would happen if I had twenty students instead of thirty-two.
But at least I now have an excellent song in my head. continue on...

three day weekend, four day work week

A million things left to do....

Next week should be good. We start our groupwork--I am a little (okay, a lot) worried about the behaviour of my first block--but the reality is that they will behave the way they do whether they are in groups or not--so maybe it will all work out. They aren't bad--just noisy--and a little immature.

It's fundraising week (magazine sales)--which I hate--but it's only four days of it.

We should have our grade level trip to the Museum of Tolerance cleared by the end of the week. I am still shocked at the amount of resistance I have gotten for this field trip, but I'm very excited that we're going.

I'm still breaking in our new Resource teacher--he came from a different district where he really didn't shadow students or work with teachers--but at least he's not as crazy and patronizing as the last one.



I'm still loving Beers' When Kids Can't Read, What Teachers Can Do. It's amazing, and I'm finding so many great "use now!" ideas in it.

I'm really looking forward to seeing my kids again.

I'm a little too relaxed after the three day weekend though--it's too easy to get back into the summer mode!
continue on...

Oh, the things we forget.

Like how absolutely exhausting it is to teach six periods a day--especially at the beginning of the year when you are out of shape, out of practice, and lacking the materials (does anyone else have to wait till nearly October for all of the materials they need?).

Of course, I still loved it--teaching is such a fun job in spite of all of the "extra duties" that it entails. My favorite part so far? When a student of mine ran up to me yelling "Miss S! Miss S! I finished the Cirque Du Freak books this vacation, and I'm on Harry Potter FOUR!!". Gotta love it.

The first two days have been great. The first period back was annoying (we loop here, I keep my 7th grade students all the way through 8th grade) as I had several students come back in "punk" mode, but by the end of the three period block, I had them ticking along again. Plus, my feet hurt--I had to give up sometime around the middle of the last period and have the students come to me.

They still basically look like my old 7th graders (although one of them is taller and many of them have let their hair grow), but they are surprising me with their maturity every once in awhile. It should be interesting to share this year with them.

And now, off to lay on the couch to read. All bets are off about whether I make it off the couch and into bed before I fall asleep though. continue on...

countdown to day one!

I thought I would make myself and my students a few promises. There's nothing like putting something out in public where everyone can see it to keep you honest, so I'll stick them here.

I promise....
1) I will do my best to keep my classroom organized this year. Every year I get a "little" bit closer to a workable system.
2) I will get enough drivers for us to make our trip to the Museum of Tolerance in LA--I spent all last year pushing for us to go as 8th graders (annoying a few people, I'm sure) so now I have to make it work.
3) I will liven up our Social Studies adoption. The first chapter looks especially painful--I'll have to come up with something quickly.
4) I will help you feel confident as readers and writers.
5) I will get enough sleep. No one likes a cranky teacher!

Only one more day! Hooray! continue on...

"'Think it will work?/ It would take a miracle'"

Well, less than a week until school begins. eek.

To follow up from my "garageband" caper (aka "seminar"), I have just taken part in two days worth of "structured/guided" reading training. My district has suddenly decided (realized?) that a large segment of our kids who score 300-349("Basic" (meaning not quite up to grade level) in California State Exam-speak) is being under-served. They think, perhaps, they need more help with their reading. I have to ask, really? you think?

Of course, this being public education you have to take the good (realizing that kids should read more, that we should focus on directly and conscientiously teaching reading, that we should be given time in class to do so) with the bad (ahem, suddenly the "extra" time we were supposed to have to do this has melted away into this awful sort of grammar/spelling blend). I love that I am now being "told" by my district to focus on the skill of reading for these students. I adore that I am being given permission to spend significant time teaching specific reading skills and strategies. Not necessarily how to decode, not necessarily how to "sound out" words (although those are important skills), but I am being told to do what I can to make sure that my students are comfortable reading, choosing, and analyzing books. What a great idea!


Unfortunately, I have learned most of this (we heard some rumors last year) in the last two days--when school starts next Monday. In a room full of teachers, most of whom we willing to try and really shift the emphasis of our teaching, you could feel the anxiety as almost a palpable thing. Would we be able to figure it out in time? Would we spend too much time fumbling around trying to figure out exactly how this would all work? Where, in the world, would we find the time to get everything else we were still required to do finished as well?

One of the things I love about teaching is that most of my colleagues will do whatever it takes to help their students. They will try new core materials; they will "individualize" instruction; they will agree to try a new reading program five days before school starts. I wonder, sometimes, if we're not doing both ourselves and our students a disservice for the way we go about adopting new ideas. It is rare to see a concept pioneered in one classroom. We almost never get the chance to watch something in action. Instead, we are asked to try and do something--and see how it goes.

All of this makes our miracles, struggles that they are, rushed. We are trying to simultaneously teach content, standards, and basic skills--while somehow in the back of our minds taking notes and re-designing a system that has never been tried before. The reality is that this is often how teaching works. The miracle is that teachers, in spite of this amount of pressure and multi-tasking, often succeed.

But still, I worry about these kids, and I worry about my fellow teachers--because you know what Miracle Max said...

You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.

continue on...

what am I really learning?

I'm sure quite a few other teachers are in my shoes--or in my chair, rather--and in a "professional development" seminar of one kind or another. I've already had one meeting to go over our new benchmarks for the year, have two full days of "guided reading" seminars next week and right now I'm sitting in a class to learn more about Apple's Garageband. Although I've already used the program quite a bit, it's always good to watch what other teachers have figured out--it definitely helps me pick up some tricks.
I do, already, know a lot of it though--and I have to wonder why I'm spending six hours going over one thing that I've already done before. And, from speaking with other teachers, their own "seminars" are not blindingly insightful either. Teacher professional development is one of the key components to keeping a fresh, excited, and analytical workforce-but I think a lot of districts are replacing the budgets that used to send teachers to conferences to have smaller seminars put on themselves.

I have never gone to a conference and not walked away incredibly excited--I have rarely gone to a "seminar" and walked away with a spring in my step.

This seems important to me. continue on...

breaking the mold

I was at the grocery store (Trader Joe's--the best!) and, as always, started talking with the checkout guy. He asked how my summer was going, and I mentioned that I was a teacher--so that it usually went too quickly. Immediately, he replied with the "molding of young minds" comment that seems to encapsulate many people's image of a teacher. I smiled and grabbed my cart, but as I was walking out of the store, I realized that that particular phrase struck me as inaccurate.
I've never felt as if I was "imprinting" the minds of my students in any way. I'm not a particularly "my way or the highway" sort of person, and I've always sincerely believed that I've learned as much from my students as they have learned from me. Being a Language Arts (and Social Studies) teacher, I of course started searching for a metaphor that would fit. I needed something that took away that feeling that I was somehow forcing students' minds into a particular shape. I needed to communicate the conviction I have that learning is not something a teacher (any teacher, no matter how good) can impose on a student. I needed an image that illustrated the best parts of my job, when I see a glimmer of understanding on a student's face--not because I put it there but because they have got "it" and are pleased.
By the time I had gotten this far in my search for metaphor, I was already at home and putting groceries away. I looked among the fruits and vegetables for inspiration and found none, but on one of the bags I did find a small ladybug.

As I transfered the ladybug from finger to finger, I realized I had my metaphor. I can't force the ladybug to go any particular direction; I can't tell the ladybug what to do, but I can make it easier for her to travel on her journey by smoothing the path in front of her, by making sure that she always has somewhere safe to put her feet, and by letting her fly away when she needs to. I treat my students much the same way. I try and smooth their paths; I try and give them scaffolds to hold them up to where they can see what our goals are; I try to let go when I need to to make sure they can fly on their own. I don't mold them--I'm not there to make them look a certain way, think a certain way, or learn a certain way--I'm there to make sure that they can learn. I'm there to show them what paths they could take. I'm there to create a safe haven for them to explore.

Of course, the ladybug also helps me out by eating the aphids on my roses--but you can't get everything from a job, surely. continue on...