“What I'm mostly good at is sleeping, he once told me in confidence, but he added, I don't see much future in it.” -Brian Andreas
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." -Lao-Tzu
Now that I've signed my paperwork, I shall, amidst preparing lessons, working on my masters, and attempting to maintain a work out/running routine as well as a social life, try to chronicle my first year of teaching via this blog. What better place to start than with the before pictures of my classroom?
The day I got my key, I had rows of desks that were too big for kindergartners:
I came in the following week to drop off some supplies, and played around with my new, k-sized desks. In an ideal world, for kindergarten, I think I'd prefer tables. Simply arranging desks can be quite the undertaking--mine are the kind with storage in a side-cubby, making the desks long rectangles, which was causing me issues with my long-rectangle shaped room. Trying to find a way where no students back would be towards me at the white board, with enough meandering space was difficult--especially once I decided that I didn't want the desks to be the central focus of the room, as they are for older grades. So I ended up fanning the desks out in a half circle around where my rug (which I don't have yet) will go--and this gathering space can be the center of my classroom:
(I also learned that it's really hard to take a good picture of a classroom with a cellphone, that captures the whole scene. Not pictured is my reading corner and the door.)
My next focus will be what to do with my blank walls--but I'm holding out until I know more about the curriculum I'm using and what my daily schedule will be--I know I'll need a calendar area, and I'll get an alphabet to put up above the white board. It's all got to come together in the next couple of weeks--I'm in the terrified/nervous/excited mode right now. Stay tuned, and when my classroom is all put together for the first day of school (August 14th), I'll share more pictures!
"You are what you're going to be when you grow up!" -Jean Porter
"The beginning is always today." -Mary Shelley
This post is to inform you of yet another change in my life-I got a "real" job!...yet never fear dear reader, Miss Amy shall continue to think about education, and let you know exactly what she thinks about it.
The day has come, on this journey through AmeriCorps, Reading Corps, and student teaching, where I will have my own classroom, full of its own challenges and joys. Today I accepted a job teaching kindergarten in Napa, California, signing up for an hour commute and a LOT of work that will be worth it.
I have never been one to choose the easy way. When I ran track, instead of sticking with what I knew, I said, sure, I'll try heptathlon. And I learned several new events--hurdles, shot put, javelin, high jump--and in many meets I did terribly. I was the worst shot putter! But I never gave up. When I did AmeriCorps, I had an hour long bus commute--with two transfers that were zero fun in the winter; I didn't make much money, but I loved what I did. So when I went into this interview, with no intention of getting offered, much less accepting, the position, I was shocked when I left and thought, I WANT this job. So here I am, ready for my year of driving, long days, five-year olds, and caffeine.
Though excited, I am also a little terrified. I have been preparing for this moment for three all too short, yet still long, years, and I know I am well prepared with experience, perseverance, and education. However, there is that part of me thinking, who on earth decided to let me have my own classroom? I am being entrusted with precious kindergarteners, some of whom have never been in a school setting before, and some of whom know not a word of English--who in their right mind thinks this is a good idea? A lot of people do I guess--my references did a wonderful job (over)selling me, and maybe I'm too modest. But more than anything, it feels so good to know where I'm going to be and what I'm going to do, and that I am going to continue to do meaningful work, and have a job I am passionate about.
Side note: I guess it's time to finally remember that kindergarten has a "t" and not a "d" in the last syllable.
"When people go through something rough in life, they say, 'I'm taking it one day at a time.' Yes, so is everybody. Because that's how time works." -Hannibal Buress
"When I was 5 years old my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down 'happy'. They told me I didn't understand the assignment, and I told them they didn't understand life." -John Lennon
The hardest thing about teaching is that one year is not much time at all. And I hate goodbyes. They're hard, and they're sad. Yet the harder the goodbye, I suppose, the more you've gained from that relationship. For kids it's so simple--"Ms. Elson, can you be my teacher next year?"--and I wish it were so easy. Instead, I give the kid a hug goodbye, and hope that perhaps our paths will cross again.
Today, I graduated from UCD's teaching credential program. Graduation is yet another event that encourages reflection--and more goodbyes. I realized that I graduate three years TO THE DAY after I graduated from undergrad. What a happy coincidence! Three years went by so fast. And a lot happened in the last three years--I ran two marathons! I met new people! I became a teacher! I made a difference!
Reason #bazillion why working with kids is amazing: This poem was written by a 5th grader, whose class I was in for a mere 2 weeks. It really doesn't take long to make an impression.
I don't know if it's because I'm a glass-is-half-full kind of person, but I feel like I have been so lucky to have gotten to where I am today on the route that I took--I firmly believe that I could not have been happier at any other college than Carleton. I could not have had a more positive experience at any other site than my lovely St. Paul elementary school. And I could not have found a better fit in terms of grad school, than I did at UCD. Everything happens for a reason, right?
I am not one to believe in fate, or that there's some grand plan for my life, or anyone else's. That said, I think that stuff happens, and it's up to us to give it a reason. To make meaning out of the coincidences that make up life. For example, I did not just jump into a teaching after undergrad, but rather spent 2 years confirming my career goals (and having a blast, living in Minneapolis and working at a fantastic school!) I firmly believe without those years of experience, not only would I have been a horrendous student teacher, but that my particular class could have convinced a different me that teaching was not the right path, even though it could not be any clearer to me that education is my calling.
The takeaway message here is that life is what you make it--and everything happens for the reason that you give it. Life may not always go smoothly--in fact this year had me doubting my teaching abilities and included a lot of tears--but every event can be a learning experience. So here I am, ready to have my own classroom, along with seventy-some other amazing credential students who I am honored to have sat with at graduation.
"If a doctor, lawyer, or dentist had 25 people in his office at one time, all of whom had different needs, and some of whom didn't want to be there and were causing trouble, and the doctor, lawyer, or dentist, without assistance, had to treat them all with professional excellence for nine months, then he might have some conception of the classroom teacher's job." -Colman McCarthy in The Washington Post
"First of all, I’ve calculated your earnings by adding your classroom hours, pre- and post-school hours, conferences and phone calls, weekend work, after-hours grading, professional development requirements, lesson planning, team meetings, extracurricular clubs and teams, parent correspondence, district level seminars, and material preparation, and I believe you make approximately 19 cents an hour.
And then people say, yeah but teachers get three months off for summer, and then we all clutch our guts and die laughing because WHATEVER, MAN. Like teachers leave on the last day of school and just show up on the first with a miraculously prepared classroom and a month’s worth of lesson plans. But seriously, thanks for the laugh."
Thank you Jen Hatmaker, for taking some time to appreciate teachers. Sometimes it feels few and far between. And it occurs to me that maybe anyone in policy-making positions should gain the perspective Ms. Hatmaker had--of actually being a teacher.
I've heard people say that everyone should experience working in food service. And I agree--if you did not already have it, it helps to learn basic common sense and decency. It was amazing working in my college dining hall, how rude and clueless people could be. And these weren't random people--these were my peers, people I respected, liked, took classes with, partied with, etc. These were really bright young adults. Like, I know they all can read--yet how many of them blatantly ignored reminders to, for example, place dishes on a tray before sending it down the conveyor belt, lest the plate get stuck and back up the whole process. Not only was there a big mess of piled up trays, dishes, and leftover food, but one of us had to descend into the depths of Mordor to unstick your stupid plate. But enough of my dining hall worker rant.
Point being, similar to why everyone should experience working in a service job to gain a new perspective, everyone should try stepping in a teacher's shoes. Especially anyone in a position of power to make policy decisions about teaching and education. It seems to me that a lot of people making decisions about education come from a very privileged perspective--upper class white males who likely went to ivy leagues and send their children to private schools and are thus wholly disconnected from the plight of most US school children. That being said, I am being totally stereotypical and putting things in black and white. But even so, a lot of decisions made about education seem to be very disconnected with what is best for students. Decisions are made without taking into account the opinions of those in the trenches, as it were. The people who know what is best for our students is not some random guy in DC, but our teachers, who know and work with our students every single day. Like Prop 227 which essentially did away with most bilingual education programs in California--when we know that bilingual education for English Language Learners leads to better educational outcomes. Not only do they get to maintain their first language, but it helps improve their English proficiency! It's really a win-win in every situation, but that's not the way the law was written.
So before you make any decisions or judgements about teachers and education, walk a mile in our shoes. See just what it takes to be a good educator--especially one with limited resources. Then walk down the road and walk a mile in another teacher's shoes because every classroom and every group of kids is different. It complicates matters, but hey, that's reality. There is no one-size-fits-all solution for the education issues facing California and the United States, and the sooner those in power realize that and find a way to give schools the resources they need for ALL children to succeed, who knows, maybe we'll start to climb in those rankings everyone seems to care about.
"To most outsiders, modern mathematics is unknown territory. Its borders are protected by dense thickets of technical terms; its landscapes are a mass of indecipherable equations and incomprehensible concepts. Few realize that the world of modern mathematics is rich with vivid images and provocative ideas." -Ivars Peterson
Currently, I am working on my PACT. Well, currently I am writing this blog post, and procrastinating on my PACT. It is due in a week, and I've spent hours and hours making very little progress during my spring "break." I have re-watched myself teaching this lesson so many times, and believe me, watching videos of yourself teaching should really be reserved for a special level of hell.
The PACT is just another (major) hurdle to clear to get a California teaching credential. It involves video taping lessons, writing lesson plans, and describing what you planned, did, and what students did and learned in excruciating, and incredibly repetitive detail, responding to semi-confusing, jargon-y, overly-complicated prompts. So basically the opposite of what teaching is really about: making subjects accessible to students.
One moment during my teaching of the lessons stuck with me. I taught a learning segment of three lessons on measurement. We made our own rulers, measured objects in both feet and inches, and discussed when it's best to use a yardstick, measuring tape or inch ruler. Most of my students seemed to get it, but mathematical discussion and real problem solving is a huge weakness, and I get the feeling that it's a nation-wide problem in math class, and not just in mine. (And I'm not just randomly speculating--check out this great TED talk on math curriculum). Still, we were using real rulers! Manipulatives! Getting to physically do math!
And at the end of my second lesson, we were packing up and getting backpacks ready to go and one of my students goes "Ms. Elson, aren't we going to do math today?"
This was the best-and worst-thing to hear. The best because it meant that my students were engaged, and having fun--they didn't realize they were learning! But the worst, because there is also this pervasive belief that learning--that learning math--is not fun. That because they were enjoying doing the work, it couldn't possibly have been math.
I think that's why students decide they don't like school--because there is this societal belief that learning and school is hard work which cannot be fun. That having to read or do math can be punishments. That recess and lunch are what students look forward to. It's not all the students' fault--it's the language we all use--parents and teachers in life. Sure, sometimes the only way to get a student to read is if they're required to. But hopefully students realize that just because it's homework doesn't mean they can't enjoy it. We see this everywhere. Everyone looks forward to the weekend. Everyone complains about their job. No one likes to wake up early, Mondays are the worst, LOL I'm looking at cat pictures at work because I'm so bored.
I'm guilty of it too! Classes start tomorrow, and I can't say I'm excited about 2-3 hour evening classes again, plus I dislike homework just as much as my students do. But I still enjoy a lot of my classes, and now that my takeover is over, I enjoy going into school again. I may be terrible at getting out of bed in the morning, but I chose my career because I love working with kids and education is something I'm passionate about. I was also a kid who liked going to school. I have more books than there is space on bookshelves in my room, and I still buy new books despite no time to read them. I still enjoy learning. And sometimes I find myself complaining about work/school, and exaggerating my complaints/relief at it being Friday because that's what everyone else is doing.
I tell my students that yes, learning is hard, and sometimes not all fun and games but it's still important. But maybe it could be fun, if we just reimagined the value we put on things. It's amazing that simply by calling some random activity a game, and making it slightly competitive can get kids excited. If we can simply begin to instill a passion for learning and being curious, we wouldn't need to go to extensive lengths to get kids to read and do math.
For now, it's back to my PACT, a most decisively not fun experience. Though I don't feel like I'm really learning anything, at this point, unlike my second graders, I can see and reason the value of trying, and putting in the work for the benefit of my future.
“Great teachers will never be able to make up for bad parents, nor should they be expected to.” -Taylor Mali
“Certainly teachers themselves can do a better job of letting the world know how hard their profession is, but frankly, they have real work to do and a lot of it, so they don't have a whole lot of free time on their hands.” -also Taylor Mali
Teaching is hard, and the past two weeks have been two of the hardest of my year, because it was my 2-week solo teaching take over as a student teacher. It was probably good timing, then, for someone in my teaching program to pass along this video:
For my classmates whose takeovers have been going swimmingly, I am happy for them, I really am. I'm in a program with some amazing people, but it's hard to listen to their successes--so Roxanna Elden (from the video) definitely resonated with me. It's so hard not to take things personally and feel like a failure when mine felt like a disaster-despite positive feedback and encouragement from my resident teacher, other teachers at the school, and my supervisor. There was definitely more than one day that ended with me in tears when I got home. That's not to say that I did not learn a lot and that my kids didn't, because we all did. But if I tallied actual learning time, and time it took to settle my students/manage the room, it would not be remotely the tally I'd hope for, despite trying everything I could think of. Students, good or bad, definitely push the envelope with student teachers.
Still, it boggles my mind how rude, disrespectful, and defiant some students--eight year olds!--can be. How the actions of a small group can impact an otherwise lovely group of kids' learning environment. That said, it wasn't a total disaster, and one day shines brighter than the rest. One day was my silver lining, the day that reminded me what learning can look like. That day was the day I took my students on a field trip to the wetlands. My students loved it! One student struggles in school, doesn't pay attention, doodles, plays with scissors/paper/pencils during class, and rarely (though it does happen) gets excited or engaged in his learning. Yet on this day, he looked absolutely giddy the entire day, totally thrilled that he was getting to explore nature and science. And he wasn't the only one.
In fact, all of my students (save one, who had to sit out of one activity for breaking all two of the rules the woman running the program laid out for us) were actively engaged the entire time listening better than they ever do in class. It was good to see what has been a really tough class for me, be successful. Of course, it also showed me that my students need to learn to tap into their curiosity and potential in class--that they are capable of more than what they show me. But that day showed me how teaching can, and should feel: not bogged down by constantly waiting for kids to listen, but hands-on, interactive, and fun.
There needs to be a shift in how students view school, because too many students, even in the younger grades have given up and decided school isn't fun. And once you've decided it's going to be hard and boring, well, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Unfortunately many students decide that acting up and getting in trouble is easier than actually learning, and it gets to the point where then they act up because they are way behind, and that's a way to get out of work. And then a teacher ends up being less of a teacher and more of a parent, or a babysitter. It's sad, and it's unfair to the students who are willing and ready to participate, because these troublemakers who have made the choice not to learn, are also choosing to disrupt and take away valuable learning time from students who need and want to be there.
I'm currently overwhelmed by how much a teacher needs to take into account--with English language learners, and the plethora of different cultures in California, much less the rest of America, teachers must be aware of more than just the subject they teach. Teachers need to be aware of where a student comes from, their home culture, their English proficiency, learning style and social abilities.
As one woman discusses about her year teaching in Botswana, "I quit after a year, demoralized by the school’s atmosphere. I found teaching hard work, the hardest job I’ve done, and I would be wrung out at the end of each day [...] So now I say, 'If you can, teach.'"
It's a good thing my supervisor and resident teacher both are supportive, think I'm doing a great job, and I get positive feedback when I feel like I'm totally screwing up. So I guess I'm doing most of the right things. It may not always be pretty, and being a student teacher is different than having your own classroom, but in some little, itty bitty way, I'm making a difference in a world that is making it very hard for a teacher to do so-and in a classroom that is making it very hard for a student teacher. I'm excited for my own future classroom, knowing that, having (just barely) survived my solo teaching, I can, indeed, teach.
Recently, thanks to the lovely social media site of twitter, I came across this article by Camika Royal, titled "Please Stop Using the Phrase 'Achievement Gap.'" Given that in many education-centered organizations toss around the term a lot, and that I, during my years of service with AmeriCorps, have also used. I found it a provoking reminder of the power of language. Intentions may be good, but the underlying historical context and implication reinforce the gap we're trying to close. I like that she suggests using the term "opportunity gap," because frankly, that more accurately gets to the root of the problem. (And as with anything on the internet, I am continually failing to learn not to read comment sections-I read half of a comment that struck me as racist and totally missing the point before I remembered. It is amazing how defensive people get when they feel like their power or status quo is being challenged. Royal went on to respond to her critics, in a much more polite way than I may have been able to muster, and reinforce her argument).
What really resonated with me however, was this paragraph near the end:
"Those of us with racially critical lenses notice that education reform seems overly populated by young white women and under-populated by people who share cultural, ethnic, racial, and language similarities with the students we serve. While this has been an issue in education for some time, be clear that, at this moment when education "reform" is all the rage, accomplishing education reform by removing black educators and replacing them with young, white, and inexperienced cultural tourists demonstrates the pathological nature of this concept. When middle-class liberals and other well-meaning white folks grapple with the so-called achievement gap, what they're really asking is, "What’s wrong with them?"
This is a topic that I have thought about, and mentioned before, about my unease with being middle class, white, and female, working with a majority of students who are not. Just like the majority of teachers in America. It reminds me of how I felt in high school when I joined the Gay-Straight Alliance. As an ally, I was insecure in what I was qualified to say or do, even though I felt strongly about our mission. I cannot pretend to understand what it feels like to come out and fear the responses of family, friends, or strangers, much like I cannot pretend to understand what it is like to not know where my next meal will come from, live in a shelter, or be black. But that does not mean I do not care passionately about my students' educations and the general state of inequality in America. I recognize that our job is not to improve a group of people to live up to this idealized norm of whiteness, but rather to shift a deeply rooted societal bias.
I see how Teach for America sets up corps members to be "cultural tourists" trying to fix the "other." This is one of several reasons I'm not TFA's biggest fan. The organization seems to benefit the teacher, more than it does the student. To me, teaching is, first and foremost, student-centered. That is not to say that AmeriCorps cannot benefit its members. My program allowed me to grow, and not at the expense of students. My students had veteran teachers, so at least if I ended up to be a horrible educator (thankfully I am not), 30 children would not be set back a year. Plus, in many places, with class sizes rising, it seems to be more beneficial to have more adults in the classroom, and more individual support for students, than to throw some enthusiastic yet inexperienced young college grad alone into a challenging classroom.
Perhaps because having been a part of two other AmeriCorps programs and am thus biased, I do not believe that all AmeriCorps programs are as problematic as I see TFA. They tend to be more diverse in age and possibly race, but also may be more likely to hire corps members who are already part of the community. And to me, community is huge. Many corps members are merely passing through a community, but what these communities need are people to work on these educational issues who are truly part of the community and will stay there. I wonder what Royal, a TFA alum, thinks of other AmeriCorps programs like the Minnesota Reading Corps, and if this is a model that is not quite as pathological as TFA. I wonder, because I also wonder where I fit. I know I have a lot to learn, but I believe I do try to view the world with racially critical lenses, and that even though I am white, working with a majority of students who are not, I am not merely a "cultural tourist." Rather, I am in it for the long run, because education is what I am passionate about, and it turns out I'm somewhat good at it. I cannot help that I am privileged simply by being born how I am, but I can act on the knowledge and understanding of what it means to be privileged. I can continue to educate myself, change the rhetoric I use, and work towards a better world. And I want to thank Royal for giving me some food for thought, and a small way to begin a shift towards educational equality.
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