Discovering skills of the data analyst from Learning Data Analytics by Robin Hunt
Teacherhood
From one of my favorite recent reads - "Close Encounters of the Third-Grade Kind" by Phillip Done:
On my desk at school there is a treasure chest. It is filled with construction paper cards decorated with glitter glue, school photos framed with Popsicle sticks, and pictures drawn with tropical marker and colored pencil and love. If I'm in the drawings, I am usually as tall as the schoolhouse in the background. My head is bigger than the sun.
Next to parents, teachers are the most influential people in children's lives. We love, care, guide, and nurture. We collect baby teeth, check foreheads for fevers, and can punch the little silver dots on top of juice boxes with one swift poke of the straw. We are used to being called Mom and Dad. I wonder: Why don't we have a word that captures the essence of being a teacher - a word that encompasses the spirit of teaching? Motherhood and fatherhood are words. Parenthood is a word. I think teacherhood should be a word.
Teacherhood is knowing that softer voices are more effective than louder ones, that students read better under their desks, that you always hand out birthday treats at the end of the day, that kids will not hear the difference between than and then, that kids will always choose chocolate chip cookies before oatmeal and raisin, and that if the office supply store is having a Back to School sale on folders but will only let you purchase twenty folders at a time - buy twenty, leave the store, return, grab another twenty, and go to a new register.
Teacherhood is understanding that you should never try to teach anything on Halloween, that when kids start learning cursive they forget how to spell, that students who are usually quiet will become chatty the week before Christmas break, that desks swallow papers, that at any given moment a child could announce something random like he's been to Denver and saw a banana slug, that the best lesson on paper can tank in real life, that children who are about to throw up get clingy, that reading nothing but comics is like eating only pasta your whole life, and that for Show and Tell you do not ask Sarah to bring in her cat and Trevor to share his dog on the same day.
Teacherhood is knowing that when kids hold up their multiplication flash cards to the light they can see the answers on the back, that children will leave the t out of watch and the second m out of remember, that you always explain the instruction before handing out the blocks (or beans or marshmallow, that cupcake paper is edible, that the pile of red construction paper in the supply room will be lowest in February, that when the air-conditioner man comes into the classroom and starts removing the ceiling tiles - stop teaching, and that when children see their teacher bust out laughing or fight back tears while reading a book - they witness two of reading's greatest rewards.
Teacherhood is prying staples out of the stapler with a pair of scissors, following mud tracks to a student's desk, asking questions about things when you already know the answers, laughing at knock-knock jokes you've heard three hundred times, being able to make thirty-seven different things out of a paper plate, locating the exact book that a child is searching for when all she knows is that it has a yellow cover, knowing that a storm is coming without looking outside, pushing desks that have crept up throughout the day back to their original places, finding yellow caps on blue markers, and counting to five while each child takes a drink at the drinking fountain so that no kid hogs all the water.
Teacherhood is correcting papers while watching Letterman, calculating how many workdays are left till the middle of June, singing the "ABC Song" out loud while looking up a word in the dictionary, taking the 7:00 AM dentist appointment, asking the woman at the dry cleaners if she can get out glue stick, unrolling a brand-new package of paper towels because you need one more tube for an art project, taking your students out for free play and calling it PE, knowing that no matter how much food you have at the Thanksgiving feast - kids will just grab the popcorn, and calling your student three different names before finally getting it right.
Teacherhood is standing at the center of the dodgeball circle while twenty children try to get you out, counting kids' heads on a field trip, confiscating yardsticks that have magically turned into swords, snitching candy from your own goody jar, collecting abandoned bird nests, scooping goop out of pumpkins, understanding that the cursive m is easier to write than cursive k, having ninety-seven items in your emergency preparedness backpack but not being able to find the Band-Aids, knowing all about Cabbage Patch Kids, Beanie Babies, Pokemon, Smurfs, Elmo, Tamagotchis, Webkinz, and Bakugan before they became hot, and sitting in the "Barber's Chair" on Colonial Day while getting a shave with a Popsicle stick and Cool Whip.
Teacherhood is writing "Do Not Touch!" on the tape dispenser then hunting for it the very next day, sweating over not being able to get the DVD player to work while twenty kids offer to "help," waiting out in front of Target the morning after Thanksgiving to save fifty cents on ribbon, making rain parkas out of Hefty bags when it starts pouring on the field trip, expecting more chase games on the blacktop in spring than in fall, explaining that a rock is a very important role in the school play, yanking so hard on the wall map that is shoots up and jumps off the metal hooks, having butterflies the night before school starts, and understanding that a child may forget what you taught her - but will always remember how you made her feel.
100 days done. 17 weeks more.
Sunday's are always kind of weird. It's the day when I have to be the most productive since it's when I plan for the upcoming week. It's also, however, still the weekend and, thus, I feel the need to "waste" some time here and there and stretch "me-time" as much as possible, which includes random updates on the blog that I haven't touched in over 2 months.
This past Thursday was Day 100. Tomorrow I begin Day 103. I only have 17 more weeks until the end of this school year, and in two weeks, I will already mark the halfway point of the third quarter. And, adhering to the cliche about life, it's all gone by so fast! In August and September, I didn't think that I would ever make it to the halfway point. And, now, it's nearly the start of February!
To those of you guys wondering if I'm still the depressed, crying, stressed-out person that I was the past 5 months, I will say that... he still exists! No, actually, this whole teaching thing has gotten a lot easier. And although the sad sad person that was I still exists, he exists to a much smaller degree and crying is definitely out of the picture (I hope).
Everyone promised that it'd be easier after winter break. Second-year TFA-ers, my program directors, my administrators, my team members, veteran teachers, and even the crazy person who wrote the paper about the phases of first-year teaching all promised a point when teaching wouldn't make me break in nervous sweat. And magically it's come true. And I say magically because I don't know when it got easier. But today, as I sat planning for the week, I realized just how quickly I can plan a week. Perhaps, I should say that it's by the grace of God (and it is) that teaching has become easier, but the grace of God is a rather magical reality, so I think the modifier is rather fitting.
Teaching is by no means easy. It's still difficult having to deal with emotions of ten and eleven year olds each day. It's still difficult having to come home everyday and still have to put stuff together for the next day. It's still difficult having to manage all of the responsibilities that come with teaching (I discover more and more of those responsibilities each day). However, I am at the point where I can get through a school day and not feel like I've been fighting some sort of battle. I do not dwell on what happened at school during the day, and I have a relatively normal life now. When I think about the fact that, only five months ago, I was sleeping at 6PM and waking up at 3 or 4AM to lesson plan for the next day, damn, I have come a long way.
And so, tis true, that, for some reason, one semester is the benchmark for becoming somewhat comfortable with teaching. And while I didn't believe it and rather hated people for telling me that I had to suffer (and, no, that's not an overstatement) to reach the point when teaching gained routines, I know that, next year, I'll be telling first-year corps members the same thing. (And they'll probably hate me as a result).
To hoping that teaching becomes increasingly easier in the near future and to the fact I'm nearly 2/3 of the way to the end of my first year...
Godspeed!
the end (of the calendar year) is drawing near...
I've started this post many many times over the past couple weeks but just have never had time to complete it. But I have so many Cornellians asking me about what the Teach For America experience is like and how my life in Phoenix is that today, on a no-school day, I'm finally forcing myself to think about how my life has been the past couple weeks.
So what to call my experience at the current moment... all I can do is chuckle.
Right now, I'm in one of those completely optimistic moments, when the two years seems completely possible, it seems like it's going to be over in a blink of eye. And no, what I see being possible is not my being an inspirational guru marching my students to success, but rather my making it out alive from the daily struggle that is teaching in a Title 1 school in a very sad pocket of town that is Glendale, AZ.
My students are unruly and behind and unmotivated. The school just has so many things going on - when you have 900 K-8 students in one school with only 2 administrators (who really are trying their best), it's a wonder that the school hasn't blown up yet. And, really, there are just too many bureaucratic forces at play that discount the true reason why schools even exist: to educate children.
And while a lot of it comes down to forces that are out of my control (I really can't do anything about the crappy educational system in the state of AZ), a lot of the things that I get frustrated and stressed out about on a daily basis are hinged on the fact that I am a sucky teacher. Having only done this for four months, the fact that I can even entertain my kids for a full school day is amazing. But really, to effectively engage and educate the 27 young minds that sit in front of me, many of whom might be dealing with some pretty heavy stuff outside of school (even more so than anything I have to deal with everyday), I need skills that I don't yet have. And really, what I hate even more than my whining students and the lack of motivation is that I am so bad at something. Really, all through high school and Cornell, I have never been this bad at something (high-school physics might be a good match). And the funny thing is that no matter how much time I put into it, I still suck.
Yes, I always complain about the same thing and then have to encourage myself at the end of every blogpost, but, really, the fact that I can try so hard and still be so bad at something really goes against everything else that I've truly had to struggle against thus far. And yes, I will probably get better over time and the second year will get better, but, right now, when I have to get up at 5:15AM every morning and muscle up enough energy to teach for 7 hours, being a teacher is just as agonizing as having to be the student sitting there the whole day listening to the bumbling fool that is Mr. Cho.
And frankly, I completely understand the whole disillusionment phase that "the experts" talk about in the life of the first-year teacher because, frankly, at the moment, I don't have the motivation to develop new ways of motivating my students, of engaging them in learning, of improving procedures in the class. Right now, I am completely fine just getting into class, "teaching" some lessons, getting angry at them several times a day, and then getting my ass out of the classroom to grade and prepare for the next day while sitting on the couch. I'm counting down the days to Thanksgiving (one week) and then to Winter Break (3 weeks after Thanksgiving).
I will say that aspects of teaching, however, have gotten easier. I'm not going to sleep at 6PM and waking up at 3AM to frantically put together lessons for the next day (thanks to some very helpful 2nd year Corps members who hand me lesson plans). I'm better at pulling activities and lessons out of my butt if the situation calls for it. I'm better at not letting my students get to me. I'm better at just being a strict, perhaps mean, disciplinary force in the classroom. I'm better at connecting with those students who want to connect with me. I'm better at a lot of the aspects of the teacher thing, which is encouraging. And, so far, according to TFA, ASU, my school, and the district, I'm doing a GREAT JOB, so at least I'm not going to lose my job as a teacher anytime soon.
For those college seniors who are reading this and thinking that Teach For America is marketing a lie, I will say that I am not trying to make this statement. There are moments in the classroom when I do feel like a real teacher truly helping my students. And I'm sure when I'm done with this experience and move on to the next, I will look back and be able to call this hot mess something that was rewarding. Despite the hell that teaching is, I am still a fan of the Teach For America brand and am a hopelessly devoted fool for what that brand represents (perhaps more so than most other corps members). But, at the same time, despite the many many times that people told me how difficult the experience is, I never truly believed it would be THIS difficult. What I'm doing is HARD and TRYING and DIFFICULT and STRESSFUL. I am on a daily emotional roller coaster - e.g., I just teared while thumbing through the Cornell Alumni Magazine. And hopefully if and when I make it through, I'll reflect upon the experience as Mark Twain did:
So what to call my experience at the current moment... all I can do is chuckle.
Right now, I'm in one of those completely optimistic moments, when the two years seems completely possible, it seems like it's going to be over in a blink of eye. And no, what I see being possible is not my being an inspirational guru marching my students to success, but rather my making it out alive from the daily struggle that is teaching in a Title 1 school in a very sad pocket of town that is Glendale, AZ.
My students are unruly and behind and unmotivated. The school just has so many things going on - when you have 900 K-8 students in one school with only 2 administrators (who really are trying their best), it's a wonder that the school hasn't blown up yet. And, really, there are just too many bureaucratic forces at play that discount the true reason why schools even exist: to educate children.
And while a lot of it comes down to forces that are out of my control (I really can't do anything about the crappy educational system in the state of AZ), a lot of the things that I get frustrated and stressed out about on a daily basis are hinged on the fact that I am a sucky teacher. Having only done this for four months, the fact that I can even entertain my kids for a full school day is amazing. But really, to effectively engage and educate the 27 young minds that sit in front of me, many of whom might be dealing with some pretty heavy stuff outside of school (even more so than anything I have to deal with everyday), I need skills that I don't yet have. And really, what I hate even more than my whining students and the lack of motivation is that I am so bad at something. Really, all through high school and Cornell, I have never been this bad at something (high-school physics might be a good match). And the funny thing is that no matter how much time I put into it, I still suck.
Yes, I always complain about the same thing and then have to encourage myself at the end of every blogpost, but, really, the fact that I can try so hard and still be so bad at something really goes against everything else that I've truly had to struggle against thus far. And yes, I will probably get better over time and the second year will get better, but, right now, when I have to get up at 5:15AM every morning and muscle up enough energy to teach for 7 hours, being a teacher is just as agonizing as having to be the student sitting there the whole day listening to the bumbling fool that is Mr. Cho.
And frankly, I completely understand the whole disillusionment phase that "the experts" talk about in the life of the first-year teacher because, frankly, at the moment, I don't have the motivation to develop new ways of motivating my students, of engaging them in learning, of improving procedures in the class. Right now, I am completely fine just getting into class, "teaching" some lessons, getting angry at them several times a day, and then getting my ass out of the classroom to grade and prepare for the next day while sitting on the couch. I'm counting down the days to Thanksgiving (one week) and then to Winter Break (3 weeks after Thanksgiving).
I will say that aspects of teaching, however, have gotten easier. I'm not going to sleep at 6PM and waking up at 3AM to frantically put together lessons for the next day (thanks to some very helpful 2nd year Corps members who hand me lesson plans). I'm better at pulling activities and lessons out of my butt if the situation calls for it. I'm better at not letting my students get to me. I'm better at just being a strict, perhaps mean, disciplinary force in the classroom. I'm better at connecting with those students who want to connect with me. I'm better at a lot of the aspects of the teacher thing, which is encouraging. And, so far, according to TFA, ASU, my school, and the district, I'm doing a GREAT JOB, so at least I'm not going to lose my job as a teacher anytime soon.
For those college seniors who are reading this and thinking that Teach For America is marketing a lie, I will say that I am not trying to make this statement. There are moments in the classroom when I do feel like a real teacher truly helping my students. And I'm sure when I'm done with this experience and move on to the next, I will look back and be able to call this hot mess something that was rewarding. Despite the hell that teaching is, I am still a fan of the Teach For America brand and am a hopelessly devoted fool for what that brand represents (perhaps more so than most other corps members). But, at the same time, despite the many many times that people told me how difficult the experience is, I never truly believed it would be THIS difficult. What I'm doing is HARD and TRYING and DIFFICULT and STRESSFUL. I am on a daily emotional roller coaster - e.g., I just teared while thumbing through the Cornell Alumni Magazine. And hopefully if and when I make it through, I'll reflect upon the experience as Mark Twain did:
"I'm glad I did it, partly because it was well worth it, but chiefly because I shall never have to do it again."**This quote for some reason was listed in a book about elementary literacy that I'm reading for grad class. I have no idea what the connection is to elementary literacy.**
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)