Last week, the boys and the princess (as the sole girl in a k-4 district behavior program, she's been the princess since day 1) and I were sitting and eating snack while I read aloud. I was in a particularly silly mood.
My young lady was eating Doritos-the Nacho Cheese variety. I said "Uh-oh Princess, better stop eating those!"
"Why?"
"Because...it says right there...it's Not Yo' Cheese!"
I take full responsibility for my horrible pun.
One of my boys tells me that if I were a comedian, people would throw tomatoes at me and I would get booed off the stage.
I turn to my ally in terrible humor and ask him what he thinks.
He pauses for a moment, reflects, and then gets a goofy grin on his face.
"I don't know...a lot of people like bad jokes!"
Well played, kiddo. I guess I should stick with what I'm good at. Message received.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Saturday, March 21, 2015
The Longest Month
March is hell. It's long, it's still snowy up here, and the kids have been with me long enough that we know each other and have gotten into patterns of behavior...most positive, but some that I need to work actively to change. I am so worn out by the end of the day that I'm considering changing our schedule because math isn't getting the attention it deserves right now. With progress reports, report cards and IEP season upon us, I'm so overwhelmed in paperwork that my planning is lacking. It's not making it easier for me at all.
On top of that, I'm having personal issues that are affecting my ability to complete work on my time away from school. I need to get over that fast, because it's making my days hell at work.
Everyone is dying for spring, state testing begins next week...we're doing PARCC for the first time and I really don't know how to prepare the kids. I truly don't know what to expect. I'm trying not to stress them out, and hoping they perform at least comparably to how they did last year...I would hate to think I've held them back in any way due to my inexperience with the curriculum.
But ultimately, I'm working in a great place with a staff that I love. My principal is helpful and fun and knowledgeable. I have coworkers to lean on, and I'm helping other coworkers with their behavioral issues in the classroom...I like that people are willing to ask a first year teacher questions. My students are making progress behaviorally AND academically, and I hear from their parents that they're very happy with how they're doing...the ones who are communicative anyway.
Once it warms up a bit and the mountains of snow melt, it will all be downhill towards the end of the year. After our April break, the time is just going to fly.
On top of that, I'm having personal issues that are affecting my ability to complete work on my time away from school. I need to get over that fast, because it's making my days hell at work.
Everyone is dying for spring, state testing begins next week...we're doing PARCC for the first time and I really don't know how to prepare the kids. I truly don't know what to expect. I'm trying not to stress them out, and hoping they perform at least comparably to how they did last year...I would hate to think I've held them back in any way due to my inexperience with the curriculum.
But ultimately, I'm working in a great place with a staff that I love. My principal is helpful and fun and knowledgeable. I have coworkers to lean on, and I'm helping other coworkers with their behavioral issues in the classroom...I like that people are willing to ask a first year teacher questions. My students are making progress behaviorally AND academically, and I hear from their parents that they're very happy with how they're doing...the ones who are communicative anyway.
Once it warms up a bit and the mountains of snow melt, it will all be downhill towards the end of the year. After our April break, the time is just going to fly.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Indoor Recess Fun
Recently the boys were playing with some blocks during indoor recess. An elaborate robot battle game that has developed over this very cold and snowy New England winter, with each playtime an "episode" that continues from the previous one. Heaven forbid one of the boys is absent, because they spend half of free time catching up on what they missed before they are allowed to resume playing. In our room is a mini-fridge and microwave, which is often the only reason I can eat my lunch at all. Our neighboring teacher was heating up her lunch when I hear the following from the rug...
Kiddo 1: I smell tacos
Kiddo 2: You know what I smell? (in a hushed tone) Victory!
The block battle that ensued was epic.
It's important to remember the ways they make me smile when there are weeks like this past one. Coming back from a week of snow days does not put anyone on their most endearing behavior. Hopefully we won't have a snow day repeat this week.
Kiddo 1: I smell tacos
Kiddo 2: You know what I smell? (in a hushed tone) Victory!
The block battle that ensued was epic.
It's important to remember the ways they make me smile when there are weeks like this past one. Coming back from a week of snow days does not put anyone on their most endearing behavior. Hopefully we won't have a snow day repeat this week.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Not A Choice
I used to say this all the time. I used to tell kids that x, y or z was "not a choice"...when they were clearly doing it.
I said it so much it wormed its way into my regular conversations and my stories about work, and my roommate had a dream that I told a burglar that robbing us was "not a choice"....so he left.
I don't say it anymore. "Not a safe choice" sure. "Not a good choice" or "Not a respectful choice" perhaps. But whether choices are good, bad, safe, choices I would make, or choices that seem to make sense...they exist. There are consequences for all of them...but there's not much that isn't a choice.
There are times when I have not given an option. Going to a quiet space when you're screaming is non-optional. I enforce those limits, obviously. But I've found "not a choice" slipping out of my vocabulary, replaced by talk about making safe/good/helpful choices, to the point that it grates on my ears when I hear others use it.
I don't know what difference it makes. I just know that my kiddos are starting to make the choices I'd prefer them to make that lead to positive outcomes, regardless of what other options are on the table. And for now, that's quite enough.
I said it so much it wormed its way into my regular conversations and my stories about work, and my roommate had a dream that I told a burglar that robbing us was "not a choice"....so he left.
I don't say it anymore. "Not a safe choice" sure. "Not a good choice" or "Not a respectful choice" perhaps. But whether choices are good, bad, safe, choices I would make, or choices that seem to make sense...they exist. There are consequences for all of them...but there's not much that isn't a choice.
There are times when I have not given an option. Going to a quiet space when you're screaming is non-optional. I enforce those limits, obviously. But I've found "not a choice" slipping out of my vocabulary, replaced by talk about making safe/good/helpful choices, to the point that it grates on my ears when I hear others use it.
I don't know what difference it makes. I just know that my kiddos are starting to make the choices I'd prefer them to make that lead to positive outcomes, regardless of what other options are on the table. And for now, that's quite enough.
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Winning
I cringe when I think of how the deck is so stacked against some of my students sometimes. Between their own mental health issues, the problems at home, the lack of parenting skill and knowledge...the history of unsuccessful school experiences that lead them to feel stupid and overwhelmed by *all* of their work...I have to convince myself to zero in on the small changes and celebrate them. If I worry about all the things I can't fix, I'll go crazy.
A teacher, trying to be helpful, decided to tell me that if I didn't march my student to where he was supposed to be physically, that he would be "winning"...and I just sighed. Because I'm not fighting against my students, I'm fighting *for* them. I'm on their team. And if they can sit and calm down and open up about what they're thinking, it's more important to me than if they can be in the precise location I indicated.
I need to teach them how to make choices that are good for them. Without that ability, they're going to always need an environment controlled by others. More than anything I don't want that for them. I want them to advocate for themselves, to recognize their needs, to understand what makes them want to act the way they do and realize how to combat those instincts.
Maybe I just remember how it felt as a kid, knowing I was *so* mad, unreasonably mad, over something little. Knowing everyone around me thought it was stupid and not understanding why I couldn't let it go. I have such strong memories of fights with my brother over nothing...things that mattered so much to me that I can still feel the anger 20 years later when I think back. I know all kids think things are more important than adults might....but this was above and beyond. I know what it feels like when my students react to something with an intensity unmatched by the problem.
It's amazing to me, given how I used to be, how zen I can get with my kiddos. I've seen it all, heard it all, had it all thrown at me. I see their insults and destruction and anger and feel their anxiety and pain, like an instant translation. He's insecure and doesn't believe you like him, so he needs you to see his worst. She's worried about the situation at home and needing some extra love. He's safer ripping up his paper than giving it a try and being stupid. Someone upset him this morning and he can't explain why, but he can't focus on anything else hours later.
My biggest job is to let them know they have a safe place, where no one is judging them, everyone cares about them, and no one will hurt them. Where it's OK to take risks, make mistakes, and where I will tell them they're brave even if they fail. If we can do that, we can learn anything. If not, they're never even going to try.
A teacher, trying to be helpful, decided to tell me that if I didn't march my student to where he was supposed to be physically, that he would be "winning"...and I just sighed. Because I'm not fighting against my students, I'm fighting *for* them. I'm on their team. And if they can sit and calm down and open up about what they're thinking, it's more important to me than if they can be in the precise location I indicated.
I need to teach them how to make choices that are good for them. Without that ability, they're going to always need an environment controlled by others. More than anything I don't want that for them. I want them to advocate for themselves, to recognize their needs, to understand what makes them want to act the way they do and realize how to combat those instincts.
Maybe I just remember how it felt as a kid, knowing I was *so* mad, unreasonably mad, over something little. Knowing everyone around me thought it was stupid and not understanding why I couldn't let it go. I have such strong memories of fights with my brother over nothing...things that mattered so much to me that I can still feel the anger 20 years later when I think back. I know all kids think things are more important than adults might....but this was above and beyond. I know what it feels like when my students react to something with an intensity unmatched by the problem.
It's amazing to me, given how I used to be, how zen I can get with my kiddos. I've seen it all, heard it all, had it all thrown at me. I see their insults and destruction and anger and feel their anxiety and pain, like an instant translation. He's insecure and doesn't believe you like him, so he needs you to see his worst. She's worried about the situation at home and needing some extra love. He's safer ripping up his paper than giving it a try and being stupid. Someone upset him this morning and he can't explain why, but he can't focus on anything else hours later.
My biggest job is to let them know they have a safe place, where no one is judging them, everyone cares about them, and no one will hurt them. Where it's OK to take risks, make mistakes, and where I will tell them they're brave even if they fail. If we can do that, we can learn anything. If not, they're never even going to try.
Friday, September 19, 2014
TGIF
There has been a lot of change at my new job (already...and only a few weeks in)....luckily it seems like it's headed in a positive direction, which is nice, because I really liked how things were going for the most part. But I have to roll with it, no matter what.
My classroom adjoins to the K-2 behavioral classroom, where my mentor teaches. She has a lively bunch of kiddos. We have a small hallway that is occasionally used as a "quiet space" (although the sound just bounces around in there like mad-it is not at all quiet) but the doors must be held shut from outside. If she sends a child in there to calm down, she will poke her head in and ask us to watch or hold the adjoining door.
One of her little munchkins was having a truly rough day last week. He was screaming on and off, and I could hear him fussing about every little thing. I heard him yelling "Let me in!" and when my door opened, I knew it was time to stand by the door and make sure he didn't escape our way.
He was practically climbing the door by the handle, and the aide was watching-while-not-letting-him-know-she-was-watching...mid-scream, he turned, saw me, and let go of the door. He waved me away and said "I'm not coming in there, don't worry. You don't have to hold the door!" Then he went back to rattling the door handle and screaming bloody murder at his teachers.True to his word, he never tried to come around the other way to get back to class.
Made a good story for the staff meeting. :)
My classroom adjoins to the K-2 behavioral classroom, where my mentor teaches. She has a lively bunch of kiddos. We have a small hallway that is occasionally used as a "quiet space" (although the sound just bounces around in there like mad-it is not at all quiet) but the doors must be held shut from outside. If she sends a child in there to calm down, she will poke her head in and ask us to watch or hold the adjoining door.
One of her little munchkins was having a truly rough day last week. He was screaming on and off, and I could hear him fussing about every little thing. I heard him yelling "Let me in!" and when my door opened, I knew it was time to stand by the door and make sure he didn't escape our way.
He was practically climbing the door by the handle, and the aide was watching-while-not-letting-him-know-she-was-watching...mid-scream, he turned, saw me, and let go of the door. He waved me away and said "I'm not coming in there, don't worry. You don't have to hold the door!" Then he went back to rattling the door handle and screaming bloody murder at his teachers.True to his word, he never tried to come around the other way to get back to class.
Made a good story for the staff meeting. :)
Sunday, August 31, 2014
End of the Summer
Hard to believe it's the last weekend of summer. It was a good, low key one. I worked a few days a week with Pre-K students, 3 and 4 year olds on the Autism spectrum....Let's just say that they were terribly cute, but I'm not going to miss them too much. Pre-K definitely isn't the place for me, but it was a good opportunity that left me lots of time for beach/pool/other summer fun.
After experiencing a program that was less than ideal (now that's an understatement) I was much more vigilant in terms of what I was looking for in a school this year. I knew I had the experiences and references necessary to get a job I was happy in. I knew which questions to ask, and which red flags to look for...I appreciated schools that were honest when a particular resource was lacking, because knowing what you're going into is incredibly important.
This year I decided not to follow through on some job leads. Some because of distance, some because of the feeling I got from the administration during interviews. I am an odd combination of a first year teacher, but also a person who's worked in enough programs to know what I do/don't want. I've been working with students with special needs for long enough to have my own philosophy of what works and what doesn't, and to know when my view clashes with the administration's.
It was really hard to get out of the mindset of "I must take every interview, apply for every single job" and so on. I felt guilty a lot. But ultimately, I ended up in a program that I can tell is a great fit for me. I don't feel any of the stress and confusion and worry I did last year going into the program. The school is welcoming and set up for teamwork and collaboration. The program is thoughtfully designed and the population is carefully chosen. The administration, from principal to superintendent, view the first years of teaching as a time to improve, not a time when they expect you to walk in already perfect. Because while I know that I have a lot of skills in what I do, I also know that I have a lot to learn.
So perhaps this year I will improve my blogging. My goals are:
-To figure out how to upload documents so I can share some posts I've been thinking about
-To post some freebie type things on teacherspayteachers, or here, to share some resources I find helpful
-To document some memories, funny stories, etc. Because there are always a million stories.
I know I said I would blog more last year. I really thought I would. I don't want to insist I will this year, because who knows what will happen? But I think I'll try.
After experiencing a program that was less than ideal (now that's an understatement) I was much more vigilant in terms of what I was looking for in a school this year. I knew I had the experiences and references necessary to get a job I was happy in. I knew which questions to ask, and which red flags to look for...I appreciated schools that were honest when a particular resource was lacking, because knowing what you're going into is incredibly important.
This year I decided not to follow through on some job leads. Some because of distance, some because of the feeling I got from the administration during interviews. I am an odd combination of a first year teacher, but also a person who's worked in enough programs to know what I do/don't want. I've been working with students with special needs for long enough to have my own philosophy of what works and what doesn't, and to know when my view clashes with the administration's.
It was really hard to get out of the mindset of "I must take every interview, apply for every single job" and so on. I felt guilty a lot. But ultimately, I ended up in a program that I can tell is a great fit for me. I don't feel any of the stress and confusion and worry I did last year going into the program. The school is welcoming and set up for teamwork and collaboration. The program is thoughtfully designed and the population is carefully chosen. The administration, from principal to superintendent, view the first years of teaching as a time to improve, not a time when they expect you to walk in already perfect. Because while I know that I have a lot of skills in what I do, I also know that I have a lot to learn.
So perhaps this year I will improve my blogging. My goals are:
-To figure out how to upload documents so I can share some posts I've been thinking about
-To post some freebie type things on teacherspayteachers, or here, to share some resources I find helpful
-To document some memories, funny stories, etc. Because there are always a million stories.
I know I said I would blog more last year. I really thought I would. I don't want to insist I will this year, because who knows what will happen? But I think I'll try.
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