Goodbyes and Hellos

Anyone with a heart, with a family, has experienced loss. No one escapes unscathed. Every story of separation is different, but I think we all understand that basic, wrenching emotion that comes from saying goodbye, not knowing if we'll see that person again - or perhaps knowing that we won't. -Luanne Rice

“Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.” -Charles M. Schulz

My sad empty classroom

Big news, dear reader, I am no longer a kindergarten teacher! Life doesn't always go the way you plan, but while I had to say goodbye to a school where I loved working, I am very excited for both cutting my commute down by 30-40 minutes, and teaching 4th grade!

No matter how much I think that kindergarten wasn't the best fit for me--I didn't think that was the grade I wanted when I accepted the job, but I am still glad that I did. People have told me that if you can teach kindergarten, you can teach anything, so I'll let you know if there is a shred of truth in that statement next year. I love working with that age group, but I have realized that what I am more excited to teach are things more fitted to upper grades.

As tough as this year has been though, moving to full day and having some darling little behavior challenges that no one had answers for, kinder graduation made me almost forget that I don't want to teach kindergarten again. We start practicing for graduation at the beginning of May, and it sounds early to practice sitting, singing some songs, and shaking some hands, but boy did we need to, and boy did the kids do wonderful.

One student's mom told me her kid kept asking if she could take me and all of her friends to 1st grade. Another student came up to me after everything was over to tell me she didn't want to go to another classroom, she wanted to stay with me. Another mom thanked me for working with her student, even though she knew he was a tough kid. She went on to say that she told her sister when her sister's son is in kindergarten, I'm the teacher she wants. And I didn't have the heart to tell her that I wasn't going to be back next year. It was such a positive end of the year, that despite all of my insecurities of teaching, I left feeling successful. I left knowing that all of my ups and downs were worth it--that I CAN teach, and I CAN teach kindergarten. It was a good way to end the year, even though goodbyes suck, and it makes me sad that I won't get to watch my little kinders grow into little people who can function in society.

For now, it's enough. I'll try to visit next year, just as I've visited my student teaching school (and saw my second graders as big 4th graders), and my AmeriCorps school in Minnesota. I have the summer to figure out what to expect in 4th grade, and to visit another school--it's my 5 year college reunion in a week and it will be nice to let myself have a vacation away from my boxed up classroom that has invaded my living room, and the pressures to research school stuff. Happy Summer!

How to Teach Resilience to Kindergarteners (Spoiler Alert: the answer isn't here)

"Here’s the thing: I lose sleep because of you.  Every week.

[...] For some, you quit by throwing the day away and not even trying to write a sentence or a fraction because you think it doesn’t matter or you can’t or there’s no point. But it does. What you write is not the main event. The fact that you do take charge of our own fear and doubt in order to write when you are challenged — THAT is the main event.

The main event is not getting a number to tell you you are worthy. The main event is pulling your crap together and making hard choices and sacrifices when things seem impossible.  It is finding hope in the hopeless, courage in the chasm, guts in the grave. [...] What you need to see is that every time you take the easy way out, you are building a habit of quitting. 

[...] You can whine.  You can throw a tantrum.  You can shout and swear and stomp and cry.  And the next day, guess what?  I will be here waiting — smiling and patient — to give you a fresh start. 

Because you are worth it." -This Guy

Before you read any further, click the link and read the blog. It's not a long post and I couldn't agree with it more. I should probably just leave the link and call it a day, but alas, dear reader, you are not so lucky. So buckle up.

First, it's true. I lose sleep over my kiddos. Whether it's thanks to my long commute, too slowly becoming less inefficient prepping for each day, or the constant thoughts running through my mind of what I can do better, what more I can do for my students, what I'm doing wrong....and on and on and on forever, it's safe to say I don't often get enough sleep. Thank goodness for coffee.

So, despite how much of a roller coaster teaching kindergarten is, how terrible I occasionally feel days go, and how frustrated I get with my students, how sub par I feel I am doing,  I will always always always greet them with a smile in the morning. I will always always always ask for a hug or a high five at the end of the day. Because I care about them. I believe in them, and the power of an education. I am optimistic, and hopeful. I became a teacher because I believe that every student can learn. I became a teacher because I wanted a meaningful, rewarding job. Because working with kids is never boring. Because they constantly amaze me...because despite my shortcomings, and despite the challenges piled up against my students, they do learn, and they do grow, and I have to believe that I am somehow a part of that. And because I really do love them, and care for them, no matter how they drive me crazy.

So yes, my students make amazing academic strides throughout the year. But I think back to during my credential year, when one of my professors asked us what we wanted our students to get out of school. And not one of us wrote down academic content. Our goals were aligned not with the common core standards, but with different values--critical thinking, curiosity, perseverance, kindness and so on. At the end of the day, it's resilience and love of learning I want my students to learn. So how do you make this kid-friendly? How can you instill this resilience in a kindergartener?

It's amazing how quickly students give up when things get hard. And then they tell you "it's hard!" as if they'll get a "that's okay you can stop". It's almost funny how surprised and aghast kids can be when they sweat--as if that's a bad thing, as if that means something's wrong with them.

How do you teach students the importance of an education at 5? In an ideal world, this support would come from home. But how can a parent, who doesn't speak English, may not have completed high school, and is working hard just to pay the rent, know how to prepare their child for school? How do you teach a kid resilience in a system where they're already a step behind, whether it be poverty,  language, race, difficult home life or any and all combinations of those? School is hard for an English language learner, as many of my students are, and it is hard from Day 1 of Kindergarten. How do you help a student who may not understand you that it is important to persevere, to not give up, when it is challenging enough just getting them to sit and listen quietly to a story?

I don't have the answers yet. I may never have good answers. All I can do is keep learning, and keep trying. I am the first to admit I am not always a successful teacher. And yet I persevere--I have had the importance of education and hard work instilled in me from a young age, with parents who read to me, provided me with experiences, and made time to talk to me. I was lucky to attend school in my home language, where the barriers between me and learning were very thin.

I'll leave with this video. Every time someone posts a video of slam poetry online I end up watching like 15 more because slam poetry is pretty sweet. This one is a little heartbreaking though, because it touches upon some of the challenges from school districts that make teachers' jobs that much harder beyond the challenges the students walk in the door with. Luckily my school isn't as strict as the one this poet's sister is in, but there is some truth in the pressures I feel to follow pacing, use curriculum materials, and getting them to perform on various assessments when I don't believe it's what my students really need or benefit from.

As I become more confident of a teacher, I think I'll get better at balancing what's required of me and fitting in what my students need without wasting so much time on management. It may never be perfect, but at least I can keep learning, and keep improving. And until then, I'll do my best. At least on my difficult days, I still get some hugs, and even some "I love you Ms. Elson"s. So I'm reaching them somehow.

The Best Laid Plans

"Kids don't remember what you try to teach them. They remember what you are." -Jim Henson

"Teaching kids to count is fine, but teaching kids what counts is best." -Bob Talbert

Everything and anything can be a teachable moment.

As part of our curriculum we have to administer the SOLO assessment (which is an oral vocabulary assessment). I feel like most of what I've done this year is assess, assess, assess. Not sure when they expect me to teach the kids what I'm assessing, but that's a topic for another day.

This year, remembering where my students were weakest last year, I made sure to utilize certain words beyond where they came up in stories or themes. For example, "calendar" was a word my students struggled with last year. This year they did not! I was much more conscious, whenever we wrote the date in the daily message, to have students say, and point to, the calendar, and I said it more as well. Similarly, every day when we went to recess, or returned from recess, I made a point to use the word "gate" in a sentence. "Leo, will you open the gate for me?" "Kayla, can you make sure to close the gate?" "You don't need to touch the gate when you go through" etc. etc. And yet, the word "gate" was the weakest word of the assessment.

So my students may not pick up the vocabulary I'm trying so hard to teach them, but the words that do stick, are often not the ones you'd expect.

Case in point: the occupational therapist leant me a "Me Moves" dvd. There is calming music and various shots of different ages and cultures of people demonstrate the "moves" for students to follow. It involves moving your arms not to fast in various shapes--up and down, in circles, squares, alternating, and then the harder ones where your hands do different things.

It is very very difficult for my students to do anything quietly, and this calming, no-noise-necessary activity is no exception. Whenever the person on the screen would change, someone (and then everyone) felt it necessary to comment, as if we all don't have working eyes. They would shout "grandma!" "baby!" etc. When a person who looked Asian came on the screen, my students decided to shout "China". After failing to shush them, I paused the video, and told them that China is a country, and cannot be used to describe a person. China is a place, Chinese people live in China.

Initially, this shut them up, and we had a bit of productivity. However, now my students, when an Asian is the model on "me moves" they will say "no China, China is a country." No one even needs to try to say "China", they just jump ahead to "China is a country".

I can't get them to learn the word "gate" after saying it, gesturing to it, describing it, and using it a million times, but I say "China is a country" once, and they have that vocab down. Go figure.

I Survived!

"While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about." ~Angela Schwindt

I attended 3 graduations this season: My cousin graduated from high school, which was a good excuse for some quality family time and a mini-Arizona vacation. My kindergarteners had a ceremony, complete with songs that would be stuck in my head for weeks, about counting, spelling, months of the year, school and goodbyes. Finally, I had a fancy graduation gown complete with ridiculous sleeves and a hood in celebration of getting my Masters degree. Graduations are joyous affairs, and celebratory occasions, though surviving my first year of teaching felt like more of an accomplishment than my academic one.

Survived is a good way to put it. This year I have wondered whether I'm really cut out to be a teacher--much less a kindergarten teacher. I have felt like I was failing my students, and my school. I felt like I was in over my head, and one step from completely losing it. 

#truth

I have also had small moments of success, and overwhelming moments of awe, at how much my students learned and progressed throughout the year--and how much I have learned. I have been floored at the loving reactions from my students, despite whatever happened during the day. I am grateful for a job in which, no matter what challenges I faced the previous day, I am still able to greet the next day with a smile. And I will greet next year's kinders each day with the same, no matter how I feel inside.

I am scared that next year the first grade teachers will be like oh, this student must be from Amy's class. I'm nervous that I can't use being a first-year teacher as an excuse anymore. I'm scared that even though a few people at school commented that I had a challenging group this year, that it was actually an average group, and I'm not sure I'm ready for feeling not in control of my classroom again. 

But I'm also excited to move to full day kindergarten. I'm excited to try again, with so much more knowledge and tools under my belt. I'm excited to be at the same school and see my students react to first grade. I'm excited for a fresh start--with new technology and doing everything just a little bit better this time around.

For now, it is summer. And summer means sleeping, finally cleaning my room, biking, running, traveling, eating, drinking, reading, and much less driving. In many ways, teachers need the breaks more than students do--to recharge for a new year. A burnt out teacher is no fun--when you need to be on every minute of the day, even if you feel off, vacation is essential. Summer vacation is more than just one of the few perks of being a teacher--it is a necessity. 

So happy summer, dear readers! Considering my school starts in mid-August, it will be a short and sweet one.

Play is Academic

"Children need the freedom and time to play. Play is not a luxury. Play is a necessity." -Kay Redfield Jamison

My students surprise me sometimes, at just how academic their play can be, when they seem so resistant to the same stuff during instruction. Some of my kids (most of them really) LOVE to play teacher. And they break out my alphabet cards, write sight words, and have others practice reading. And yet, when I'm reading with them they won't sit still. But they need this time to process what they learn, and to practice. Without play, it's in one ear, and out the other. Kindergarteners need play time, and there is so little time.

Today, my morning kids got some free time as I finished math assessments.

A little boy who started this year with zero English, (and who is absolutely adorable and my I-don't-have-favorites-but-maybe-if-I-had-to-choose-he'd-be-it kinder, who isn't always the best at staying in his seat or attending on the rug, but gets a great big hug at the end of the day and always wants his high-five higher), is making amazing language and academic progress, though he's still below grade level.

He's sitting, alone at his desk, happily building an alphabet block castle. He makes it, and I capture a picture. I check out what other kids are doing and glance back a couple minutes later. He's just sitting at his desk, staring at his tower. He then looks up at me and says, "I'm trying to read it."

He was trying to read a bunch of mostly consonants in his tower--to perhaps very little success, as he is one of my lower readers--but he was engrossed, and as a teacher, that was the highlight of my day.

And it made me realize, while I am exhausted, and excited for summer, I sure am going to miss these children who put me through hell.

100 Days Smarter

“Look at children. Of course they may quarrel, but generally speaking they do not harbor ill feelings as much or as long as adults do. Most adults have the advantage of education over children, but what is the use of an education if they show a big smile while hiding negative feelings deep inside? Children dont usually act in such a manner. If they feel angry with someone, they express it, and then it is finished. They can still play with that person the following day.” -Dalai Lama XIV

I have been teaching for 100 days! It's a big day in kindergarten, the 100th day. In my class we have been adding one piece of a 100-piece puzzle to the board each day--and today the puzzle was finished. Just about every single activity we did today- read-alouds, math, writing, snack-had to do with the number 100. And with the excitement of it being a special day, meant that there was more buy-in from the kids. Really a lovely way to end the week.

100 Days, 100 Snacks

It's good to end things on a high note and remember the positives. One of my students told me, for the second time this week, that I am the best teacher ever. It's sweet, and possibly nice that these kiddos don't have perspective or other teachers to compare me to, so yeah, I may be the best. But still, it's important to realize that my kindergarteners view what goes on in class very differently than I do.

I suppose this is the upside to my dilemma of attempting logic with my kindergarteners. I haven't quite cracked the kindergarten code--classroom management is HARD, and trying to explain WHY my students should behave appropriately is often lost on them because I'm using logic and talking about long term consequences, and effects of behavior on others, when developmentally speaking, these students are still egotistic and unable to process certain logic the way older students are. Most of the time this is something I gripe about, but it also means that my students interpret what goes on in class differently from me. That when I end a day thinking, man, that was tough and kind of terrible, they leave, happy. They give me a high five, or a hug, or tell me they love me.

It's my students who simultaneously make me question whether I really should be a teacher, challenge me daily, and cause me great amounts of stress, while they remind me of why I'm a teacher, why I'd rather have no other job, and why I'm passionate about what I do. Yes, my students are 100 days smarter, but hey, so am I. And as much as I complain and question, I love my students. And amazingly enough, I believe they love me too, and that's what makes it all worthwhile.

Here's to tomorrow, day 101. And to many day 100s to come.

If there's something strange in your neighborhood...

Youth is wasted on the young. -George Bernard Shaw

Teaching kindergarten is easily the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I've thought a lot about what grade may be the right fit for me. On one hand, I love working with the younger kids--they are so loving and their drama is relatively straightforward. On the other hand, the content you get to explore with older kids, especially in literature and social studies topics would be so much fun and interesting to explore. Once you've passed that learning to read stage, and are reading to learn, you can do so much more, and a wealth of opportunities open up for activities and discussions you can have. 

Older kids also have both more cultural capital and a higher likelihood of understanding and appreciating puns and references. So, in the spirit of brevity and levity, here's a little anecdote from my teaching that's on the lighter side:

I have a couple of students who I have had to send to other classrooms or the office to take a break, or finish work in an environment removed from the stimulation, comfort, and distraction in my classroom. One day, I reach the end of my rope, and walk to the phone. The kids know what this means, and one little boy (the boy who most often needs the break), asks, "Who you gonna call?"

I couldn't resist. The wording was perfect. The answer is yes. Yes I did respond with "Ghostbusters".

He was confused, I said never mind, and moved on, but was secretly mildly disappointed that no one was around who could appreciate the awesomeness of that moment.

Turns Out, My Students Love Me

“The soul is healed by being with children.” -Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Stories of a first year teacher: Unconditional Love Edition

A student who can be incredibly defiant, has been caught stealing from me, and gave me major attitude this morning started bawling as I explained what a "Teacher Down Drill" meant.

(ie if something happened to me--I got hurt or fainted, what happens? Two kids run to the office and alert them, and two more run to the nearest classroom for help. The rest of the kids need to remain calm. Judging by the drill, let's hope this NEVER happens because I will die. Realistically, my kids WILL recognize an emergency if it does come around. Anyway, back to today.)

This had happened before--not a Teacher Down, but the bawling and disrupting class and making a small thing into an attention seeking adventure regarding some minor incident, so I pushed through my explanation and got the kids working on practicing the letter "x" (exercising fox).

So then, I am able to turn my attention to my crying friend.

"What's wrong honey?" "

"I don't want anything to happen to you!" Hugs ensue and reassurance that it's just practice, and should hopefully never happen.

heart. melted.

Sometimes, Teaching is a Game of Whack-a-Mole

"The kids who need the most love will ask for it in the most unloving of ways." -unknown

"Teaching is like trying to hold 35 corks underwater at once" -Mark Twain

Sometimes I feel like my classroom is a zoo, especially during the middle of the day when I have all 26 kinders on the rug. I have a little girl who I've caught stealing my things. I had a little boy running with scissors. I have kids who can't keep their hands to themselves, can't sit still for more than 15 seconds, and kids who can't not be making noises...unless I ask them to. I have very few kids who listen well, follow the rules, participate, complete their work, and clean up after themselves. I have some, so I know there's hope for the rest, but they are currently in the minority. It's pretty safe to say that somedays, my kids are driving me absolutely crazy. I love them, but they are little mysteries that I haven't fully solved.

Being both a first-year teacher and a first-year kindergarten teacher, I'm not sure what's normal for 5 year olds 50 days into the school year. I have a sense though, that some of what I'm seeing is normal, and some is decidedly not normal. I have started a clip up/down behavior chart, which occasionally seems like it is working. The problem is I'm still figuring out how to make it work for me, and my teaching style. I had a parent volunteer ask if I had an aide in my room. Umm, just for two half hour blocks during the day. She was surprised--and rightfully so. Extra adults are helpful at any level, but especially in lower grades, when there is so much individual attention needed, because for many of these kids, everything we do is for the first time. And because, well, they're 5.

Sometimes it's easy to figure out why a kid is misbehaving. I have a few little boys who speak little to no English. So it's not surprising that they stop paying attention on the rug. They don't fully comprehend what's going on, so they get distracted. It must be overwhelming to have someone speak to you in English all day, when you only know and speak Spanish at home. For other students, it's not so easy, especially when they won't respond to direct questions about their behavior, or even respond to you calling their name. I worry that my students are going to get hurt, because they refuse to respond to my direction, or respond when I call their name. It is ridiculous how defiant these kids--these 5 year olds!--can be. I know that developmentally speaking, empathy is difficult for them, as is sitting still for a while. But I also know that they can learn how to do this, because some of my kids demonstrate it beautifully. And these kids deserve more--and it's unfair that so much of my energy is spent on a handful of kids being disruptive.

That being said, I still get hugs from kids--even the ones who cultivate so much negative attention. One day I brought the kids out to their parents at the end of the day, and the mom handed me flowers (the picture above is of said flowers). Another day, I had to attend a meeting, and had a sub in my room for an hour--and when I came back, two kids ran up to me to give me a hug. And one of my students likes coming to school--wants to come on Saturdays! I must be doing something right, because my kids seem to like me. It's safe to say that I care about my students, but sometimes I'm not sure that's enough. I want to help them learn, and be ready for first grade. I want to teach them to be good people, to think about and question the world around them, and learn basic reading an math.

But right now, I worry that they're going to fall behind because transitions take so long. Because the kids I need to be paying attention the most are the ones hiding under their desks, or talking to their neighbor when we're learning our letters. Because I often don't feel like a teacher, but more of a babysitter. It's no wonder, as I put together progress reports, that very few of my kids know their letters. It's not because they aren't capable, it's because we all haven't figured out how to act in Kindergarten.

Totally made this arrangement up. Hope it works!

So after a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day (some days are like that), on Friday, I threw up my hands and decided to totally rearrange my room (see the pictures...and note that I have more stuff on the walls!). We'll see what happens on Monday. Maybe a change will be enough to start over with behavior...as someone in my credential/masters program said today: "It's never too late for a fresh start." So I should probably plan on very little academic work for Monday, and really focus on getting our routines right. Make them do it over and over, until we get it right.

Rug time is so hard! We'll have to add assigned squares.

I am exhausted, all the time. I feel like part of the problem is simply that being a first year teacher is hard, and notoriously not the best, and it's okay that I don't have all my ducks in a row. It doesn't make it any easier on a day to day basis though, because I still have to make it through each day, and I still have 26 real, live, little human beings in my care.

I Seem to Have Misplaced a Copy of My Brain

Those are actual words that came out of my mouth, and it was a true statement in multiple ways. In "Stepping Stones," which is what we call our reading block, we read a book called "My Brain." We send home copies of the books for kids to read for homework, and I was one short. However, on another level I really am losing my brain, as it were...I set stuff down and two seconds later can't find it again. And making it through the day--especially last Thursday and Friday--can be the biggest challenge.

"This business of training little humans for life is a mind-boggling process." -unknown

"The best part of teaching is that it matters. The hardest part of teaching is that every moment matters, every day." -Todd Whitaker

I feel like if I wrote a book, I could title it "Adventures of a First Year Kindergarten Teacher: Stress Eating Dove Chocolates, or How I Lost My Voice and My Mind."

Mind-boggling does not even begin to cover what it means to teach kindergarten. When you're new at a job, it's okay to make mistakes. Everyone does. When you're learning, you learn best when things don't go perfectly. The issue is that the mistakes I make, while they make me a better teacher, affect kids' lives. My mistakes impact someone's kindergarten year. I feel like I should be better prepared, given that I have 3 prior years of experience in schools. Yet here I am, wasting time getting kids to just sit and listen...and then running out of time to get any work done. I keep meaning to create new centers for early finishers, go back to my notes from classes last year and try new things. But I simply have zero extra hours in the day to do that.

I honestly feel a bit like I am failing, both at being an effective teacher, and failing my students. I'm working on progress reports, and I have so many students not on grade level. Some of this is because it's only been 30 days of school, and learning is not always a fast process! Some of this is due to behavior. Some of this is due to language. And some, perhaps most, is likely due to me. I'm still learning, and finding out new things about my school, my responsibilities, and what I need to have in my classroom. I can't look further than a day or two in advance, because I am barely hanging onto my day to day goings-ons.

I feel bad too, writing "N" for growth needed, when I feel like it's my fault. Or, for my ELL students, because it's a language issue, and it's going to be "N" all year. We really need to provide ELL students with bilingual education, because not only is it important that they don't lose their native language, but because literacy in a first language translates to better learning a second. And as for this year, well, it can take 2-3 years to master basic conversational ability in a second language, and 5-7 years to master academic language. So it's okay that my ELL students won't master English skills this year...but they still deserve access to the content, and I feel bad that I can't supplement that with their own language because I don't know Spanish. I worry though, that even though developmentally speaking, I shouldn't expect them to be proficient, because that's unrealistic, that seeing "N"s on all their progress reports will have some psychological effect. So I need to keep this in mind and discuss this with parents at parent-teacher conferences to assuage fears the parents may have.

Good thing I'm ever the optimist, because last week was full of me feeling like a miserable failure. On the bright side, I do know that some of my kids are picking up stuff. We have this alphabet with our curriculum that has a picture intertwined with each letter. We are supposed to go through the alphabet saying each picture name (which has the letter sound ie: apple, bat and ball, caterpillar, dinosaur).

When assessing my kids for progress reports, I asked them to name letters. A few kids could tell me the picture that goes with the letter-- tower, snake--but I got a blank stare when it came to letter names. They're learning what I'm teaching, I suppose. But now I'm practicing the alphabet with letter names and sounds, because otherwise their foundation for letters is going to be random nouns, and that's confusing.

Boys Will Be Boys....We're Just Not Letting Them

"Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children, play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood.” -Fred Rogers

“We need to make the schools ready for the kids, not make the kids ready for the schools.” -Carol Copple

Today I came across a piece called Pressure-Cooker Kindergarten, so naturally, being a kindergarten teacher, I clicked on the link. With the difficulties I am currently having with my students and listening and discipline, this article resonated with me. With all the requirements of us to complete during our school day, we had to cut out a recess. Our kids still get a recess at lunch time, but historically they've had another one...and this is not a good thing. 

It's heartening---yet disheartening at the same time--to see that research shows that this emphasis on testing and assessment and strict lessons is not developmentally appropriate for kinders. As the article eloquently puts: "there is a growing disconnect between what the research says is best for children -- a classroom free of pressure -- and what’s actually going on in schools." This is heartening because it means that my gut feelings and discomfort with my current curriculum/requirements are not baseless. Having just spent a year in grad school learning what research shows, and best practices, it becomes disheartening to see so little opportunity to utilize this knowledge.

I personally feel pressured to complete activities, and it is difficult to spend the time my kids so desperately need not only to explore and play, but to learn basic social and school skills. Some of my students--they're 5 years old for goodness sake--are unresponsive to teacher direction. I think we are asking too much from them too soon. What's the rush? We need to let our children be kids, and create supportive environments to grow at developmentally appropriate rates, not force student into sitting at desks for hours, where they are not really learning authentically or laying down strong foundations. (That said, they need the opportunity for meaningful play, not video games, ipads and TVs).

As a first year teacher, it's hard to draw the line between what's wrong with the system, and what I'm still figuring out/learning/currently failing at--I'm still figuring out my teaching style, my ideal management system, and the world of kindergarten, much less how to juggle all the other requirements of being a teacher that falls outside of the school day (and there are a lot). I keep telling myself it's got to get better, but I'm finding it hard to truly develop my own style when so much is dictated by my curriculum. It doesn't always feel authentic because I'm secretly questioning its effectiveness in the way we're using it, and that may come across slightly to my students. 

Parts of our curriculum is being implemented school-wide, and I get that it's important to keep certain things consistent. However, when using a curriculum that was created by someone far away from my school, and used across the country, it's hard to truly put my faith into 100%, because there is no one-size-fits all solution, and we have to change just enough of it to fit our schedule that it loses some of its effectiveness. I think common core standards are good to make sure expectations are the same across the US. However, just because a school is program improvement or "failing" or what have you, doesn't mean the teachers don't know what they're doing. It's more likely that the teachers are not given the freedom to provide the students the education they need, but rather prescribed a system to follow to increase "accountability". Which then creates this downward spiral, where it is very hard to get out of program improvement, and the schools that do well continue to because they have the resources and freedom.

I put "accountability" in quotations because that discussion regarding holding teachers accountable for student proficiency is, quite frankly, ridiculous. No amount of testing is going to hold teachers more accountable than teachers hold themselves. The kind of person who becomes a teacher believes in the power of education and their ability to make a difference, that they hold themselves to a higher standard than any testing ever could, and it kills me when I feel my hands are tied so I can't make the greater difference I believe I could.

I hope that right now my feelings are more a manifestation of my frustrations of my day-to-day teaching, and that as the year progresses, things will get better, and I will see better behavior, and more learning and improving.

Let's take a tour!

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" -Mary Anne Radmacher

My room is 9b. The best room to bee.

I have survived five days of five year olds! Just barely--my honeymoon period lasted the first 3 days of school, which were all half days. Now that it's a full week, with whole days, I'm being immersed in the joys of five year old boys thinking constant farting noises is HILARIOUS. Time to go back to rules and routines again...but first, pictures!

Hopefully I'll have a rug soon.

 My classroom really started to come together when I put the alphabet up--then name tags, caddies for supplies, and then, all my curriculum materials.

It looks dark outside the door because I was at school the night before day 1 until 8:45.

 Teachers are hoarders, which is super useful for new teachers. Older teachers, at the beginning of the year, often want to get ride of stuff. So that's where I got the paper cubby shelf (along the wall, to the left in the above picture). The bee hive where I wrote the Welcome Message was left in the staff lounge, up for grabs. My bulletin boards were also left in good condition, so I didn't have to put up new paper or borders. Huzzah!

Student work will go along the right wall, and I have lots of storage and counter space across the back wall.

As more gets added to the wall--such as our sight world caterpillar, or student work,  or various posters, I'll share some more pictures, along with some reflections of the first few weeks of school. Which are HARD.

I have to keep reminding myself that I am many of my students' first introduction to school. (Not to mention MY first year with my own classroom. I am also still learning). That it's all on me to introduce routines and appropriate behavior. The first week of school went just swimmingly. Yesterday and today fell apart a bit. It's my personal opinion that kindergartners are expected to do too much, too soon, which is rushing me past the basic behavior skills they so desperately need. So I'm going to take a deep breath, and start fresh. Tomorrow is a new day.

A Blank Slate

“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!

Is This The Real Life?

"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.