~ There is no Autopilot ~

Which is more of a distraction: the preemptive strike or the patient pause and listen?

Situation: Math time. Multiplying by powers of ten. Kids are getting it and we're almost ready for independent work time. I see C out of the corner of my right eye reach towards a still-wrapped sucker on his desk, hear the crinkle as he lovingly caresses said sucker. "Mrs. N--" he starts. "No," I say, "C, the answer is no."

"But you didn't even hear the question," he says while the class chuckles at his crestfallen look.

"No sucker right now," I say, clarifying.

"But how did you know that?"

"I'm magic," I say as the class laughs.

Two minutes later, the buzz of talking has subsided and we're finally back on track, and I'm left wondering. Was my preemptive strike all that effective? Should I have been patient, listened to the question, and then answered? I know there isn't really a correct answer, but I still need to ask the question.

During my first few years of teaching, I used to long to be a more seasoned teacher, to have all the answers down. But that's no longer the kind of teacher I want to be. The wisdom I've gained is that there isn't an autopilot response for every situation, there isn't one right way to teach content. Constant evaluation and appropriate changes keep this job fresh and interesting.

Maybe I'll try the "patient pause and listen" next week....

~Where to start?~

With a blog neglected as long as this one has been, knowing where to start is proving a bit difficult. So to recap:
*after a year in third grade, I've been moved back to fifth grade.
*after retirements and shuffling, I have a new set of co-workers in 5th grade.
*my partner teacher from 3rd grade was also moved to 5th grade, so we can continue to be partner teachers. Which means that....
*...I still don't have to teach science!!! Yeah!

As for the kids this year...well...they're nice. I don't have some of the crazy behavior I've had in years past. Nobody's having screaming breakdowns, or calling me names, or throwing things at other kids.

But of course, they have their moments...case in point: Veteran's Day.

Our school has an assembly on Veteran's Day to honor family & community members who have served in the military. It's often very moving, and typically a little bit lengthy as well. During the hour and a half we were there I confiscated two mini-skateboards (or TechDecks for those of you who know what those are) that were being mini-skated all over the floor and bodies of anyone sitting nearby, and removed one child from the rest of the class for pushing and grabbing at other kids.

After the assembly, we went to the library to check out books. At which point, three of them were removed to the office for crawling around on the floor chasing each other instead of checking out books.

Then it was back to the classroom, where the story of why there was such a commotion during the assembly came out. H. had taken A's dollar. Then threw it to another kid, who gave it back to A. Then, for some unclear reason, A continued to keep her dollar on her lap instead of in her pocket, which is when H took it again and gave it to K, who gave it to someone else to pass back to A, but somehow H ended up with it again, and it hadn't been seen since. Even though he insisted he didn't have it. Right. In the end, H agreed to pay A a dollar since he was the one who started taking it in the first place.

But, like I said, these are nice kids, and those kinds of days are few and far between. It's a lovely change - not dealing with crazy kids on top of lesson plans, new state regulations, and a mountain of papers to grade. It's one of the things I love about this job; change is always coming.

~Holy Neglected Blog, Batman!~

Time does fly when you're....having fun?? No, that doesn't sound quite right....

Do over.

Time does fly when you're writing lesson plans, scraping chewing gum out of carpet, policing handheld pencil sharpeners, practicing multiplication facts, setting up science fair projects, chanting "Put your bottom on the chair and your feet on the floor" for the eighty-seven-thousandth time, making birthday root beer floats with no ice cream scoop, grading papers, dealing with the kid who has "no idea how that knife got in his pocket," getting another group of kids hooked on Harry Potter, introducing fractions, and bribing children to behave.

Oh, and my house burned down.

Suffice to say, I've been a busy girl since the departure of the student teacher. I have missed my independent fifth graders even more these past few months as I've had a lot to deal with in my other life, you know, the one outside of school in which dear hubby and I deal with insurance adjusters, investigators, contractors, etc, etc, etc. But it's looking like I may not miss those fifth graders much longer. As of last week, my position for next year was tentatively in fifth grade.

I have mixed feelings about this move. On the positive side, the amount of trivial, "Tell him to stop looking at me!" complaints will decrease significantly and I'll get to keep my classroom instead of spending summer vacation packing and moving it elsewhere. But, there'll be no more classroom content to play Heads Up Seven Up for ten minutes for a break and no more ability to say the word cock during spelling with no one snickering.

And of course, anything could change by next fall. If I've learned one thing over the years it's "Assume nothing." Ultimately, it truly doesn't matter to me anymore. Give me fifth, third, fourth, whatever...I have a job, which is something I'm thankful for each and every day.

~You know you're a teacher...~

You know you're a teacher when you're jealous of the two feet of snow that fell in Washington, D.C. because you haven't had a snow day since the beginning of December.

And the natives are getting restless...

~ Things Teacher Ed. Programs Fail To Mention ~

...alternate title...These Things Only Happen To Me.

Thing One: How to continue teaching while in the middle of a massive nosebleed.

Shockingly, this topic is not covered in Introduction to Teaching Elementary, nor in any other college course. Fifth graders tend to understand that they need to chill and let you take care of things, so when you tell them to just work at their desks, they do it. Third graders, on the other hand, continue to bring you their worksheets to tell you they're finished, or that they don't get what to do. Luckily, Ms. L. rescued me and played Addition/Subtraction Bingo for fifteen minutes while my blood clotted.

Thing Two: How to get candle wax out of berber carpet so the principal and/or head of maintenance won't find out you spilled wax on the carpet and ban candles from your room, thus forcing you to endure the smell of ripe children.

While carpet cleaning is not on the list of topics, learning to teach cause and effect is. Observe: Because of the massive nosebleed, Ms. L played Bingo with my kids. Because Ms. L. was playing Bingo, she needed suckers for prizes. Because she needed suckers for prizes, she used the sucker jar on my desk. Because she used the sucker jar, the recently lit candle sitting next to it was accidentally knocked on the floor. Because it was knocked on the floor, candle wax splattered all over the carpet. Because of that, I learned something new today. Thanks to google, I now know that the best method for removing wax from carpet is to place an absorbant paper towel over the wax, and then iron the paper towel, causing the wax to melt and be absorbed into the towel.

So even though my carpet will probably have a slightly pinkish spot until they shampoo it next summer, and my room will likely smell like Cinnamon Apples for several weeks, I don't think anyone will notice....

unless you tell them, that is.....shhhh!

~ Define "bad" ~

Sitting at the computer today while Ms. L was having the kids pack up their stuff, I was startled by A. "T said a bad word," he blurted before running back to his desk. Without any other context, and fifteen minutes before Thanksgiving break, I decided to keep an eye out, but not pursue.

My mind was changed by B, who almost never says a word, when he came back in the room from getting his things from his locker and told me, "T said a bad word." I asked a few more questions this time, and found out it was the A word, said to another student. I asked the other student, and he told me the same thing.

I pulled T aside to investigate. He first tried to deny he said anything bad. When I pointed out the unlikeliness that three other people in class were lying to me about it, he tried a new one. "Well, sometimes at my house I hear voices when no one's there." Stifling laughter, I responded, "Really? So you think three different people in our class are hearing voices in their heads, and they all three think the voice is coming from you?" "I guess so," he says.

Since I was getting nowhere fast, I told T I was pretty sure he wasn't telling me the truth, and asked him to have a seat and think hard about what he might have said in the hallway. The tears came then, "Well, I guess maybe I said the d word to A." This was not what I'd heard, but at least he was admitting to something. I had him start on a letter to his mother, telling her what he'd done in school that day.

He worked away for a while, then announced he was done. "Ok, read it to me," I said. Here's how it went:

Dear Mom,
Today in school I called A a dummie.
From, T

"Oh, honey," I said, "you think dummie is the bad word you said? That's not a nice word, but that's not the bad word they told me you said. Three people, T, three people told me you said the A word." He didn't even deny it at that point. Just told me he wasn't sure how to spell that word. "Did you say it?" I asked. "Well, yeah, but I can't spell it."

What followed was a conversation in which he first pretended not to know any word that meant "not telling the truth," wondered why he had to add the fact that he lied to Mrs. N to his letter, then argued about having to have his mom sign the letter and return it to school.

Just in case I thought the half day before Thanksgiving was going to be an easy day. Guess I'll enjoy my break that much more now!

Pie, pie, and more pie

One of the things that didn't change when I came to third grade was the approach to writing. I've used Writer's Workshop and individual conferences with students for years, and while the lessons are a little different for younger writers, the basic structure is the same, and leads to moments with kids where they really get writing, and get excited about it.

D. came to tell me she was done with her story. "I read it, it makes sense." Her story went like this:

I love pie. I cud eat

pie all day

if I kud.

Reglar (regular)

charey

pie.

I love pie.

D. has a hard time writing. She doesn't read very well, which makes writing even harder. I started asking her questions. Why do you like pie so much? What's your favorite kind of pie? Why is that your favorite?

She started talking about making pie with her Grandma, and how her Grandma sometimes puts frosting on the bottom of a cherry pie, which makes it extra good. Just talking to me about it made her smile.

I knew we'd found it. "There's your story," I said, "Your first story basically says you like pie. I don't know anyone who doesn't like pie, but I've never heard of putting frosting in it."

D. went back and completely rewrote her story to tell about making pie with her Grandma and how that makes her feel. She ended up with something she was really proud of.

This is why I love Writer's Workshop, for kids like D. who absolutely hate writing when they come to me, and realize by the end that they do have a story to tell.