teacher

In the Swing of Things

My lessons are going incredibly well.  My 7th graders will be wowed tomorrow when I woo them with my summary of the story we read today.  I always get their attention with my performance.  It involves hand puppets and jumping around…pretty much looking silly for them.  Again, teenagers like me to look goofy.  Of course, teaching is a lot like performing.  I have compared it to being a comedian before.  Some days I have been booed figuratively, but so far I have had good reviews.  My 8th graders are extremely attentive for 8th graders.  Our difficult path will begin tomorrow when I make them actually write an essay about themselves.  I am going to let them challenge me to write an essay about anything.  I hope I can do it successfully.

Returning to my previous entry, I am still learning about my students.  My first class in the morning is slow at everything.  They are not stupid.  They just take too much time opening their books and getting out their belongings.  I have found myself asking them multiple times to do simple tasks.

The students that don’t do their homework are surfacing.  In the first week, everyone has high hopes for their grades.  I believe even previously failing students believe they can do the work in the first week. In many cases, this is totally true.  They simply get bored or discouraged so quickly.  I am sure I will have some parent phone calls  to make next week.

In my study hall, I found that one distracted student that prefers to stare into space…sadly staring right  in my direction every time  distracted.  I teased the student about it a bit.  In middle school, students are still learning how to “fake work.”  It takes a talented student to appear to be reading a book without actually reading.  How someone could be this lazy is beyond me, but lucky for me, in middle school, students that are off task look off task.

Teaching and learning about the students is the best part of my job.  The rest of my job really isn’t all that much fun.  The more comfortable I get as a teacher, the more frustrated I get with the other parts of my job.  I practiced my shopping skills today buying donuts, milk, and such for a meeting in the morning.  Obviously I had to prepare to lead the meeting too.  Carrying in all the food was the best part of the experience.  I have attempted to nail down an interview for a PR project I thought of for my committee work.  I am hoping that I will get my three tiny questions answered tomorrow.  I met with the union to discuss “an undiscussable matter.”  They pretended to fix the issues for the moment…hoping we will forget about them soon enough. Good thing we are too busy to put up much of a fight.  It can’t be won with just us; all we really have is to believe them.  Back to School Night came and went.  Shook a million hands and actually met a few babies.  As I continue to hunt down my principal to make plans for a field trip, I trudged on through the week. Faced with more paperwork as I sort through possible goals for the year.  The goals are not so hard; it is finding the right category to claim each of them.

Still the best weeks are when the kids are motivated and learning.  I plan to take full advantage of it.  Next week they could hate the lesson.  For now, I am the star of the room…just not in the halls when I am working on a million tasks at once.

Homework

There are many first days, and last days for that matter, in teaching.  Monday was the first day for teachers; this consist of meetings.  Tuesday was the first day for students; this consist of repeating rules and procedures that no one remembers for long.  Today was the first day of actual teaching.

My 7th graders were wonderful as always.  7th graders do not have as much fear as 8th graders. I think it has something to do with being wrong in front of their peers; they are not worried about being wrong.  They are also friendly during group work;  they want to meet the other students in class.  Although the 7th graders work better at the start of the year; the more comfortable they get the more issues that could arise.

My 8th graders were still well behaved.  It is just a matter of getting everyone to discuss and share their ideas.  Hopefully it only takes a few weeks, but I know from experience that something it never happens.  The great thing about 8th graders is the more mature students get my little jokes.  Some kids can never figure out how I know when they are paying attention.  One way is to look for their reactions, laughing or looks of utter confusion.  As a teacher, if you can get a third of the class to laugh, the second third of them feel like they missed out.  They listen closer for your next humorous anecdote.  Of course the last third has little hope sometimes.  I have to jump on one foot or dance and sing HEY YA, making myself look like a fool, to get those last 8th graders to wake their brains up.  Teenagers love that.  They would rather me be embarrassed than themselves; I am not embarrassed.

In other news, I can still pass for someone other than a teacher.  The 7th graders might actually have thought I was a high school student; the parent was sure I was another parent.  Four boys were horsing around in the lockers after practice.  I walked by the them and gave my best CUT IT OUT look.  They stopped for a moment, so I walked on.  I heard one scream THAT GIRL LOOKED AT US.  Then I heard a loud fake cry…even my principal can fake a better cry than that.  I circled back around from a different direction and found one of the kids on the floor, buckled over holding his groin.  The other boys were laughing.  I gave them a lecture about bullying in the sternest voice I could muster; the boy continues to wail on the floor.  The student responsible was a little defensive.  I asked him if he knew who I was.  I always wanted to ask that when the answer actually mattered.  My friend would just answer, “Yea, you’re a bitch.  I remember.”  This poor 7th grader was pretty scared.  He began to plead with me to not tell the coach.  After looking everywhere for the coach, the responsible boy admitted that he was the culprit.  This released the other boys, but I still couldn’t find the coach.  (This is actually one of my nightmares under stress;  I am always looking for someone to help.) He insists, as the two of them trail behind me in my hunt, that they were just playing around.   I told him when the situation ends with someone crying on the floor, it is NOT playing around.  Eventually the boy’s father appears and attempts to save him.  He corrects his son’s behavior, and he insists it will not happen again.  The father began to plead with me to not pass on the information.  I explain to him that we just don’t allow this type of horseplay in the hall, and I still indent to pass it on to the other teacher.  The father does not get that I am just going to the coach, not the principal.  The fear in his eyes and his son’s is too much.  The authority is taking over my mind.  I have unconsciously switched title COACH to MR.  He thinks I am going to the principal; I say that I am not, but I don’t change my titles.  I am not sure why I was jerking them around, but it was a little fun.    Finally, unlike my many nightmares, I find the coach.  He is just as scary as me.  Hopefully the responsible boy will not do anything like this again, or he will kick the poor kid’s butt another day.  If that happens, I hope I am not there.

BELLY SHOT

Apparently the belly came out for the grade level meeting after school.  I missed it again, probably because my eyes were rolling.  As if it were apart of her agenda, my principal began to cry during the meeting.

  1. Welcome
  2. Special Education Issues
  3. Hear teachers’ ideas
  4. Cry
  5. Homework
  6. Adjourn

If her belly wasn’t unprofessional then the crying was.  I couldn’t quite figure out what made her cry.  It seemed to be her homework assignment, or it could have really been a sudden sadness for her dying mother.  I couldn’t tell from her words.  I know her mother has been sick for years; I hate to be so incredibly cold to ignore a dying mother.  Relief is what I would feel after I saw my mother suffer for years. In the end, she cried as she mentioned her mother and explained the homework assignment she passed out for us.

The irony come later when I read her assignment.   She’s asked us to watch a couple You Tube videos of famous musicians (again she taught choir) who were judge for their looks rather than their beautiful music.  The boss used this example, so that we would not judge our students by piercing (not allowed in school BY HER) and their clothing, which has been restricted more and more since she has taken over the school.  Not to mention the way she has treated the teachers in the past.  I am not buying her sudden respect for others.  She is hunting for our respect and can only succeed with sympathy.  She truly could pass for Susan Boyle, maybe even sing well, too, but she does not make beautiful music.  I can’t believe how upset people are so early in the year.  She burned all her bridges; if she had one chance left, she lost it for many even before the tears.

I used to work for a great principal.  She was supportive and kind.  She wasn’t a push over, but she listened.  She really respected the teachers and loved the kids.  I will have that again…maybe just not for two years.

Locker Room;

School opened with little conflict.  The students were on their best behavior, mainly because their brains have not yet been activated. I did my share of talking, but I did get them out of their seats for one activity. A few students came to me during free time; I find this rewarding yet disappointing for those students who do not know their classmates.  One student said he hated working on assignments where he had to talk to other people.  Another student asked if he could sleep on the floor because he preferred sleeping  until 7:30 every evening. A couple girls in my Honors class laughed when I asked the class if anyone read for fun.  They both thought it was funny because they read to avoid people.  I hope middle school will bring them all out of their comfort zone.  That may be the point of middle school.

My last hour class could literally not be contained.  With only 24 desks, the thirty students were cramped in chairs through the rows.  The stench was unbelievable in the room.  By the end of the day, normally a class is bound to have one stinking kid.  Somehow the stinking kids were spread out throughout the room creating the aroma only known from the locker room after a homecoming football game.  I am still surprised the odor left with them. I actually gave the “We are teenagers now, so we need to remember deodorant and showers regularly, especially after PE.”  It seemed rather early and broad, since I normally give this speech to only one student at a time, not an entire class.  Not sure if I convinced the students that needed the most help; the smell may venture forth again.  I may have to sniff out the stinkers on my own.  Lovely…they do not teach you that in college.

My covered feet were ripped apart from pacing back and forth repeating myself over and over again.  I should have just wore the flip-flops.  When did flip-flops become unprofessional anyway? My district does not actually say this, but I thought I would step out of my normal clothes.  It did nothing but give me blisters.

Despite the war wounds and the stench, I am in it for the long haul.  My first goal is to get these kids to know each other.  They were so incredibly shy.  Of course, I will laugh out loud in March when I revisit this wish of the kids being more comfortable and chatty.  Still, I am prepared.  This is going to be a great year!

School Dreams

The night before the first day of school always gets me antsy.  Even when I am completely prepared for the first weeks, I still have wild dreams.  ACTUALLY, I have strange school dreams throughout the year, too.  They are both caused by stress, a part of life.  Normally they involve trying to find another teacher or administrator to stop some strange behavior in class.  I imagine myself a comedian getting booed.  I hustle around trying to find a back up plan or a worksheet, while students fly anything from paper airplanes to large knives through the air.  Never can I find help; I scream for help over and over.  Sometimes the school is empty, the phone is busy, or all the halls are titling back and forth  like in a funhouse.  Other times, my assistant principal tells me that I am just making a big deal about the knives; they are not weapons unless they are making a verbal threat, he says.  I have had all types of school dreams.  It is impossible to fall asleep.

I am just like any  kid that starts the first day of school.  I have had 28 firsts days of school!   I ALWAYS dress is new clothes; I have always tried to get my picture taken for nostalgia purposes.   I always buy new school supplies for myself…new pens and post-its.  Buying just supplies for the classroom is not enough; although it does help.

Everything about the first day of school makes me all giggy inside.   I get to meet new students.  I get a new beginning.  One great thing about teaching is that if the year is not going as well as you want, the year is always nearly over.  The first day is a fresh start.  I have new hopes and dreams.  Plus I really enjoy teaching.  I don’t think there is another job I would want to do more than teach.  Even if the pay was minimum wage, I would still be doing this.

Anything could happen.  It is all starting THIS week.

Another great thing being a teacher is we get a practice day.  Tomorrow is the first day for teachers; Tuesday is the first day for students.  I get the same feelings for both days.  I intend on some pretty vivid dreams tonight.  Two first days…both are probably equally as useless.  My mother told me to remember how boring the teachers’ first day is, so I will be sympathetic to the students when I drone on and on about classroom rules and such.  I promise to try, Mom.  It has to start somewhere, and I AM READY FOR IT TO START.

Bring it on, TEENAGERS!  Bring it on, TEACHERS!  Bring it on, PRINCIPAL!

Bring it on, DISTRICT! Bring it on, PARENTS!


I am ready for it all.  If I only can get through the first days without any sleep.