Yesterday my sickness and my jammies held me captive and, apparently, that is just what I needed. Read on.
Old man Fronzoni was my partner in crime today. By "partner in crime" I am referring to the shadow of a man in the corner. This fragile substitute shambled aside and got out of my hair. It was pleasant. It was refreshing to teach and not have Big Brother hovering over me with those yellow squinting eyes peering. No! Today my classroom was not the Valley of Ashes, it was my classroom! Perhaps, I haven't realized that I feel I am being watched. I never felt restricted or nervous teaching in front of my CT, but in her absence this pleasant sensation, which is the complete opposite of every other sensation I have had this week (being sick and all), sprang suddenly up from the germy depths and I was "on point" as my students would say! I was being silly and making bad jokes (Ex. A poisonous pickle is inimical) to help them learn vocabulary words, and I may have even whistled a ditty. I guess having your own space makes a difference. I am looking forward to tomorrow, but I should probably begin working on something to share with my darlings.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Sick Week
What is difficult to understand is that kids don't really care if you are sick. I am. Very.
My kids don't care. I don't know if we are allowed sick days so I have been teaching four classes and suffering from an ailment that I have never had before this week. I started my antibiotics yesterday so hopefully I will not end every day with my head pounding and body aching.
Nothing this week has been too terribly exciting. We are still working on characterization with hopes of having students write an essay on "Everything that Rises Must Converge" next week focusing on one character and the type of characterization used, which means that next weekend I will be grading essays.
Tonight I am attending a presentation of Flannery O'Connor's letters that were recently released at Emory, although I feel like I should be watching reruns in bed with my cat.
CT's husband also works in the school and today he came over to our classroom at the end of the day and saw my Bell Hooks book which sent him on a rant. He doesn't like her (for her feminist writing, not her writing on education), but I was humored and he and I joked about the differences. I like when that happens: two people disagree, but listen to one another and agree to disagree.
No more blogging today. Thursday and Friday my CT is gone and it is just me with a sub.
Maybe I will have interesting stories to share!
My kids don't care. I don't know if we are allowed sick days so I have been teaching four classes and suffering from an ailment that I have never had before this week. I started my antibiotics yesterday so hopefully I will not end every day with my head pounding and body aching.
Nothing this week has been too terribly exciting. We are still working on characterization with hopes of having students write an essay on "Everything that Rises Must Converge" next week focusing on one character and the type of characterization used, which means that next weekend I will be grading essays.
Tonight I am attending a presentation of Flannery O'Connor's letters that were recently released at Emory, although I feel like I should be watching reruns in bed with my cat.
CT's husband also works in the school and today he came over to our classroom at the end of the day and saw my Bell Hooks book which sent him on a rant. He doesn't like her (for her feminist writing, not her writing on education), but I was humored and he and I joked about the differences. I like when that happens: two people disagree, but listen to one another and agree to disagree.
No more blogging today. Thursday and Friday my CT is gone and it is just me with a sub.
Maybe I will have interesting stories to share!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Screen Porches and Nice-Nasty
Today was the second Feather Circle day. It was great. They are still warming up, but "oh joy, joy, jubilee!"
I have chosen lines from many of the student's writing to put up on the wall in the classroom.
After nervously reading my writing that was composed at 8:15 this morning my students told me that I should be an author. It made me feel less crappy for waiting until the last second. This was my second time participating in this assignment. My favorite memory was one of my mother forcing a Morning Glory to open before the sun had risen so I could see how beautiful the flower was. Writing helps you not forget. I got a good mama.
On to my babies...read them all. It is worth it. Promise.
“I am from the honey inside the Honey Suckle plant which I ate day after day.”
“I grew up in a green house with scraggly walls that accounted for many of my childhood cuts.”
“I am an urban child.”
“I love the smallness. I love the closeness. It’s that Southern hospitality that makes me.”
“I am from a British woman who married a Texas man.”
“I am from a huge Jewish family that eats too much and is way too loud.”
“A diversity of religions
Quakers and their oats
Jews and their bagels
Christians and their chocolate Easter rabbits.”
“I’m from the pasture with the little yellow tin-roofed shed.”
“I am the Georgia peach, in a house full of New York apples.”
“When I leave, the city lights beckon me home.”
“Ancient shell-pink bricks are bathed with a breath of salty sea wind. Gnarled live oaks, cascading with curling Spanish moss. Sandy bicycles bumping over cobblestones in the twilight…my first memories of home.”
“I am Charles Gresham, fighting the Battle of the Bulge as a sergeant and a tank commander in the US Army during WWII. I witnessed my own men being torn apart by machine gun fire and murdered by Nazi spies in the dead of night.”
“From the food I eat: Legume, Lambi, Griot, Sauce Pois, Diri et poist, to the language I speak. I am a Haitian Sensation.”
“I have cayenne pepper in my blood and the Mississippi River running through my veins.”
“I am a peapple. A wonderful mix between a New York apple and a Georgia peach.”
“I come from the alarm is a rooster at 7 o’clock in the morning…I come from the dust. I come from Trejo Barranco.”
“You see a place full of fine Southern tradition,
Mixed with Modern ideas
And luxurious details of life.
A house raised by humanism,
Based on human rights and equality.
Based on doing what is right."
“I am split between biscuits and gravy and Pepsi.
Between the civil rights movement
And coalmine cave-ins –
A melting pot of hope and change.”
“My family crests are embedded in Irish history.”
“I’m from an intersection of two culture, traditions, beliefs, and ways of life.”
“Comfy slippers and an old stuffed rabbit named Tuscan.”
“A young mind being molded.”
“Butter yellow house of 14th Avenue. Warm and Inviting. Smells like cinnamon.”
“A book lays open on this cover, it’s pages turning themselves from the gust of the ceiling fan. The cicadas and grasshoppers chirp outside. The faint smell of bleach comes from the sheets, freshly cleaned.”
“I am from sourdough bread and crescent rolls at Thanksgiving.”
“I’m from a place that’s found in a book full of magic carpet rides or wizard’s duels. I’m from a place where anything is possible.”
“Where I’m from there are traffic locked streets, peaches and fairs. I’m from Atlanta; the Dirty South.”
“I am from the sun that shines bright. The one everyone sees every morning and at night it gives hope to the hopeless, and dreams to the sleepless, and keeps a smile on every face.”
“I am from the land of chicken biscuits, waffles, and coke. Surrounded by peanuts and peaches. Where great athletes have come and competed. Where the term “rush hour” is an understatement.”
“I am from the old dirt roads of South Africa where walking was not an obstacle, but a way of life."
“I am from a place where salt water lingers in the air and where you can feel wind tangle your hair as you step outside.”
“I am from the Chanel No. 5 that my mother always wears.”
“It’s bright outside, but not from the sunlight. The city lights are shining on the sheets of the bed. Atlanta, GA, and it’s everything that I thought.”
“Where you are from is what you picture in your mind when someone says “home.”
I have chosen lines from many of the student's writing to put up on the wall in the classroom.
After nervously reading my writing that was composed at 8:15 this morning my students told me that I should be an author. It made me feel less crappy for waiting until the last second. This was my second time participating in this assignment. My favorite memory was one of my mother forcing a Morning Glory to open before the sun had risen so I could see how beautiful the flower was. Writing helps you not forget. I got a good mama.
On to my babies...read them all. It is worth it. Promise.
“I am from the honey inside the Honey Suckle plant which I ate day after day.”
“I grew up in a green house with scraggly walls that accounted for many of my childhood cuts.”
“I am an urban child.”
“I love the smallness. I love the closeness. It’s that Southern hospitality that makes me.”
“I am from a British woman who married a Texas man.”
“I am from a huge Jewish family that eats too much and is way too loud.”
“A diversity of religions
Quakers and their oats
Jews and their bagels
Christians and their chocolate Easter rabbits.”
“I’m from the pasture with the little yellow tin-roofed shed.”
“I am the Georgia peach, in a house full of New York apples.”
“When I leave, the city lights beckon me home.”
“Ancient shell-pink bricks are bathed with a breath of salty sea wind. Gnarled live oaks, cascading with curling Spanish moss. Sandy bicycles bumping over cobblestones in the twilight…my first memories of home.”
“I am Charles Gresham, fighting the Battle of the Bulge as a sergeant and a tank commander in the US Army during WWII. I witnessed my own men being torn apart by machine gun fire and murdered by Nazi spies in the dead of night.”
“From the food I eat: Legume, Lambi, Griot, Sauce Pois, Diri et poist, to the language I speak. I am a Haitian Sensation.”
“I have cayenne pepper in my blood and the Mississippi River running through my veins.”
“I am a peapple. A wonderful mix between a New York apple and a Georgia peach.”
“I come from the alarm is a rooster at 7 o’clock in the morning…I come from the dust. I come from Trejo Barranco.”
“You see a place full of fine Southern tradition,
Mixed with Modern ideas
And luxurious details of life.
A house raised by humanism,
Based on human rights and equality.
Based on doing what is right."
“I am split between biscuits and gravy and Pepsi.
Between the civil rights movement
And coalmine cave-ins –
A melting pot of hope and change.”
“My family crests are embedded in Irish history.”
“I’m from an intersection of two culture, traditions, beliefs, and ways of life.”
“Comfy slippers and an old stuffed rabbit named Tuscan.”
“A young mind being molded.”
“Butter yellow house of 14th Avenue. Warm and Inviting. Smells like cinnamon.”
“A book lays open on this cover, it’s pages turning themselves from the gust of the ceiling fan. The cicadas and grasshoppers chirp outside. The faint smell of bleach comes from the sheets, freshly cleaned.”
“I am from sourdough bread and crescent rolls at Thanksgiving.”
“I’m from a place that’s found in a book full of magic carpet rides or wizard’s duels. I’m from a place where anything is possible.”
“Where I’m from there are traffic locked streets, peaches and fairs. I’m from Atlanta; the Dirty South.”
“I am from the sun that shines bright. The one everyone sees every morning and at night it gives hope to the hopeless, and dreams to the sleepless, and keeps a smile on every face.”
“I am from the land of chicken biscuits, waffles, and coke. Surrounded by peanuts and peaches. Where great athletes have come and competed. Where the term “rush hour” is an understatement.”
“I am from the old dirt roads of South Africa where walking was not an obstacle, but a way of life."
“I am from a place where salt water lingers in the air and where you can feel wind tangle your hair as you step outside.”
“I am from the Chanel No. 5 that my mother always wears.”
“It’s bright outside, but not from the sunlight. The city lights are shining on the sheets of the bed. Atlanta, GA, and it’s everything that I thought.”
“Where you are from is what you picture in your mind when someone says “home.”
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Support our Troops
At 8:45 this morning I watched a video called Invisible Children with my students. The video shared some information about the children who are victims of the 17 year long civil war in Sudan. It tells their story of abduction, rape, and a life of innocence taken from them. Most of the children are orphans. All of the children fear the LRA (Lords Resistance Army) and what will become of them once they are taken from the destitute lives they live under in the basements of flooded hospitals or in the high brush of the forest. These children's games of hide-and-seek have a lot more at stake than any game I have ever played. They aspire to be doctors, lawyers, and teachers. They know they never will be. They fear being murderers; slashing innocent people with machetes for a thrill that they are brainwashed into thriving off of.
It wasn't the most uplifting way to start a morning, but it was a very effective tool to educate those of us who needed to know more (which, in my opinion, is all of us).
Then we moved to two silly seminars and I read The Picture of Dorian Gray while my students yawned through lectures.
The day ended with a welcome home for a teacher who was in the Army Reserves and just returned from Iraq. Picture a high school gym full of students singing Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American." Wacky! I do not support this war. No part of me, not one little fiber in my bleeding heart supports this President's agenda which has taken so many innocent lives. However, I do support our troops. I know that is hard for many right-wings to believe: that one could support living people fighting for an unknown cause, while still completely 100% disagreeing with the purpose. It was hard for me. I am also against recruitment within schools. These children who are told that the Armed Forces are their only hope at a "successful" life don't even know what an IED is. Well, that is, until one of their legs is blown off by one. It is trickery at it's best. Government funded deception. I will most definitely inform my students about the Conscientious Objector status. Anyway, it was a very strange experience to see 300 children welcoming home a teacher, who some of them didn't even know, and singing praises of our country in unison. The war was not glorified or misrepresented. The children were not mislead into believing that this particular teacher's path was the right path or the only path. I respect that.
It was an experience that I needed. I needed to make the division between our troops and Mr. Bush's war. I needed to put that into practice internally.
I did my very favorite thing in the world today: learned.
It wasn't the most uplifting way to start a morning, but it was a very effective tool to educate those of us who needed to know more (which, in my opinion, is all of us).
Then we moved to two silly seminars and I read The Picture of Dorian Gray while my students yawned through lectures.
The day ended with a welcome home for a teacher who was in the Army Reserves and just returned from Iraq. Picture a high school gym full of students singing Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American." Wacky! I do not support this war. No part of me, not one little fiber in my bleeding heart supports this President's agenda which has taken so many innocent lives. However, I do support our troops. I know that is hard for many right-wings to believe: that one could support living people fighting for an unknown cause, while still completely 100% disagreeing with the purpose. It was hard for me. I am also against recruitment within schools. These children who are told that the Armed Forces are their only hope at a "successful" life don't even know what an IED is. Well, that is, until one of their legs is blown off by one. It is trickery at it's best. Government funded deception. I will most definitely inform my students about the Conscientious Objector status. Anyway, it was a very strange experience to see 300 children welcoming home a teacher, who some of them didn't even know, and singing praises of our country in unison. The war was not glorified or misrepresented. The children were not mislead into believing that this particular teacher's path was the right path or the only path. I respect that.
It was an experience that I needed. I needed to make the division between our troops and Mr. Bush's war. I needed to put that into practice internally.
I did my very favorite thing in the world today: learned.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Elephant in the Corner
Wearing earrings, ironing pants, and pinning a mess of hair up can do wonders for a girl trying to look like a professional adult. I thought maybe if I dressed the part then it would be easier to pretend that I knew how to act the part for my first formal observation today.
Being the preplanner that I am I had already created all that I needed for my lesson and used my third period class as a pre-performance warm-up. That word, "perform," was thrown around in my follow-up meeting. I thought it strange how what we teachers do is considered a performance. I have thought of it as that before, sure, but to have another tell me that it was a "remarkable performance" may have rubbed me the wrong way. I am still thinking on that. My "remarkable performance" included opened with me asking my darlings to write in their journals and answer the questions:
Is any one human life more valuable than another?
After that we discussed their answers briefly. Then we did an exercise where we imagine that there is a burning building and on top of this building are people such as a pregnant woman, a child, a doctor, a businessman, a woman of color, a teacher, a construction worker, a professional athlete, etc. The students were told that only one person could get out at a time and it was up to them, individually, to decide what order these people could escape. Blowin' their minds, right? Right! It's what I am here for.
They had real trouble with this, which makes me figure that their strange little bodies house some pretty decent hearts. After most of the class had finished we discussed some answers. For the most part the pregnant woman was first, the child, and the woman of color. I then questioned why, in our society, we have end up feeling this way: women and children first...manly men marching out of the fiery rubble last. I don't even know. We were just talking.
Next I provided them with some more descriptions: pregnant woman is on probation for drug abuse, the child is an orphan, the doctor is Dr. Kevorkian (whom they do not know!), the businessman raises tons of money for all types of charities (vague, vague, vague!), the woman of color was Oprah, the athlete, Michael Vick, the teacher was their favorite (me), and the construction worker was a single mother of two. This really got them. We discussed our preconceived notions about careers, we discussed how we truly do place a value on life based on different factors, and we discussed how it made them feel that I was screwing with them so much. I loved it. They were thinking.
My observer was pleased.
The kids are learning stuff. I think?
My CT was pleased.
I am real tired.
My cat's name is Sully. A wise woman asked that I name it that and I fear if I choose not to accept this suggestion my life will be less rich and I may be cursed for forever...however long that is.
That and she said it was a "gweat" name!
Being the preplanner that I am I had already created all that I needed for my lesson and used my third period class as a pre-performance warm-up. That word, "perform," was thrown around in my follow-up meeting. I thought it strange how what we teachers do is considered a performance. I have thought of it as that before, sure, but to have another tell me that it was a "remarkable performance" may have rubbed me the wrong way. I am still thinking on that. My "remarkable performance" included opened with me asking my darlings to write in their journals and answer the questions:
Is any one human life more valuable than another?
After that we discussed their answers briefly. Then we did an exercise where we imagine that there is a burning building and on top of this building are people such as a pregnant woman, a child, a doctor, a businessman, a woman of color, a teacher, a construction worker, a professional athlete, etc. The students were told that only one person could get out at a time and it was up to them, individually, to decide what order these people could escape. Blowin' their minds, right? Right! It's what I am here for.
They had real trouble with this, which makes me figure that their strange little bodies house some pretty decent hearts. After most of the class had finished we discussed some answers. For the most part the pregnant woman was first, the child, and the woman of color. I then questioned why, in our society, we have end up feeling this way: women and children first...manly men marching out of the fiery rubble last. I don't even know. We were just talking.
Next I provided them with some more descriptions: pregnant woman is on probation for drug abuse, the child is an orphan, the doctor is Dr. Kevorkian (whom they do not know!), the businessman raises tons of money for all types of charities (vague, vague, vague!), the woman of color was Oprah, the athlete, Michael Vick, the teacher was their favorite (me), and the construction worker was a single mother of two. This really got them. We discussed our preconceived notions about careers, we discussed how we truly do place a value on life based on different factors, and we discussed how it made them feel that I was screwing with them so much. I loved it. They were thinking.
My observer was pleased.
The kids are learning stuff. I think?
My CT was pleased.
I am real tired.
My cat's name is Sully. A wise woman asked that I name it that and I fear if I choose not to accept this suggestion my life will be less rich and I may be cursed for forever...however long that is.
That and she said it was a "gweat" name!
Monday, September 17, 2007
Long Monday
Today was a strange one.
I assigned a new Feather Circle topic. I looked into a sea of twisted faces...once again. They are just missing the connection between journaling and public writing. I know why too...because I really haven't taught that! I am having to really squish what I can into my 48 minute class periods and I didn't know how much class time my CT would be willing to spare for a writing program. Now I have decided that next week I will be discussing the writing process with them. Yay mini-lessons! Today I made a large image of the writing process schematic and put it in the front of the room. Tomorrow I will put the Five Commandments of writing in the front of the room. That way it is there for them to see and understand (hopefully) without us having to spend a ton of class time on it.
Tomorrow I will also be formally observed for the first time. I am sort of nervous, but I told my kids that we would have a guest and they needed to make me look real good. I did. No shame.
Journals were pretty interesting. Some of those kids really have thoughts bumping around the inner-workings of their 14 year old black hole's. By thoughts I mean questions; one's that are not dealing with boys and kissing. I got some good stuff and I let them know it was good. Some kids really remind me of me when I was their age. I can tell that those students have a bright future! Haha.
Best part of today by far: one of my "colleagues" in the English Dept. may be moving in or around December. He will know more by mid-October. Maybe I won't be completely broke, standing frostbitten on the corner of Edgewood and Boulevard rapping for my dinner!
I assigned a new Feather Circle topic. I looked into a sea of twisted faces...once again. They are just missing the connection between journaling and public writing. I know why too...because I really haven't taught that! I am having to really squish what I can into my 48 minute class periods and I didn't know how much class time my CT would be willing to spare for a writing program. Now I have decided that next week I will be discussing the writing process with them. Yay mini-lessons! Today I made a large image of the writing process schematic and put it in the front of the room. Tomorrow I will put the Five Commandments of writing in the front of the room. That way it is there for them to see and understand (hopefully) without us having to spend a ton of class time on it.
Tomorrow I will also be formally observed for the first time. I am sort of nervous, but I told my kids that we would have a guest and they needed to make me look real good. I did. No shame.
Journals were pretty interesting. Some of those kids really have thoughts bumping around the inner-workings of their 14 year old black hole's. By thoughts I mean questions; one's that are not dealing with boys and kissing. I got some good stuff and I let them know it was good. Some kids really remind me of me when I was their age. I can tell that those students have a bright future! Haha.
Best part of today by far: one of my "colleagues" in the English Dept. may be moving in or around December. He will know more by mid-October. Maybe I won't be completely broke, standing frostbitten on the corner of Edgewood and Boulevard rapping for my dinner!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Feather Circle Numero Uno
Today was the first Feather Circle. Feather circle reading is a time when we share something that we have written with one another. We sit in a circle. We pass a stick with a feather on it to signify who should be speaking (yes, I made a stick). Most of the writings will be creative, thoughtful, and polished. Focusing on answering a very specific question like “where do you come from” in an abstract way. However, today was a time for the kids to warm up to the idea of the circle, following the rules of the circle (respect!), and getting comfortable sharing with one another. They were to fill out and decorate a sheet listing the following:
Three writings that influenced your life.
Some people outside of your family who influenced you.
Epigraph (which some confused with epitaph)
Things that make you hopeful.
Things that make you lose hope.
Turning points in your life.
Three gifts you bring to this class.
The students did a fantastic job in the circle. We sat on the floor in front of the desks and I think this created a really good vibe. Sitting on the floor kind of showed them that these writings are, and should be, separate from the monotony of everyday schoolwork. They have a hard time just doing. They need to be told, how long an assignment has to be, in what format they have to answer in, and other specifics that you and I would probably never think to ask. It has been challenging trying to get them to just do. I am going to list some of the things that surprised me. My favorite class (4th period) really solidified their position as my class o’ teacher’s pets when they were telling me that the things that made them hopeful and those that made them lose hope. Read on…
Things that made some of my students lose hope:
“The fading in someone’s voice…like when they trail off at the end of their sentences. It shows a lack of confidence in one’s thoughts. That is sad.”
“Global Warming” (Yeah 4th!)
“War” (Yeah 4th!)
“Anxiety”
Things that make my students hopeful:
“Bio-fuel”
“YALE”
“rain”
“The prospect of world peace”
“change”
Epitaphs
“You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself in any direction you choose.”
-Dr. Seuss
“To be successful you have to be dumb enough to think you can change the world and smart enough to know how.”
“I live simply so that others may simply live.”
I have saved this for last because it was what struck they most.
Influential People:
Frank Lloyd Wright, All people who have adopted children (especially from Africa), Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Albert Einstein, Abraham Lincoln, Ghandi, Mother Theresa, JFK, and Ms. Furbee, and Ms. Fish, and Ms. Fields.
Those teachers are on lists with world changers, do-gooders, and renowned thinkers. I wanna be one of those teachers.
I have 130 journals in my car right now. It is gonna be a long weekend, BUT these kids are writing!
Three writings that influenced your life.
Some people outside of your family who influenced you.
Epigraph (which some confused with epitaph)
Things that make you hopeful.
Things that make you lose hope.
Turning points in your life.
Three gifts you bring to this class.
The students did a fantastic job in the circle. We sat on the floor in front of the desks and I think this created a really good vibe. Sitting on the floor kind of showed them that these writings are, and should be, separate from the monotony of everyday schoolwork. They have a hard time just doing. They need to be told, how long an assignment has to be, in what format they have to answer in, and other specifics that you and I would probably never think to ask. It has been challenging trying to get them to just do. I am going to list some of the things that surprised me. My favorite class (4th period) really solidified their position as my class o’ teacher’s pets when they were telling me that the things that made them hopeful and those that made them lose hope. Read on…
Things that made some of my students lose hope:
“The fading in someone’s voice…like when they trail off at the end of their sentences. It shows a lack of confidence in one’s thoughts. That is sad.”
“Global Warming” (Yeah 4th!)
“War” (Yeah 4th!)
“Anxiety”
Things that make my students hopeful:
“Bio-fuel”
“YALE”
“rain”
“The prospect of world peace”
“change”
Epitaphs
“You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself in any direction you choose.”
-Dr. Seuss
“To be successful you have to be dumb enough to think you can change the world and smart enough to know how.”
“I live simply so that others may simply live.”
I have saved this for last because it was what struck they most.
Influential People:
Frank Lloyd Wright, All people who have adopted children (especially from Africa), Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Albert Einstein, Abraham Lincoln, Ghandi, Mother Theresa, JFK, and Ms. Furbee, and Ms. Fish, and Ms. Fields.
Those teachers are on lists with world changers, do-gooders, and renowned thinkers. I wanna be one of those teachers.
I have 130 journals in my car right now. It is gonna be a long weekend, BUT these kids are writing!
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Everyone's got a soft side, right?
My lessons are going great. Yesterday we read "A Respectable Woman" by Kate Chopin and used a silly little graphic organizer with a potato on it. We discussed the importance of character development and picking up on the subtleties that the author offers the reader. It was fun. Easy.
Today we finished up. Assigned literature circle roles and reviewed common mistakes on their summer reading essays (this is a new essay that I spent my weekend grading, not the one that I used for the contest). I designed a suggestion box so my kids could help me name my cat. This is the hardest thing EVER! I am leaning towards Ezra. However, I want a long, dignified name. Ezra is short. Ezra Pound influenced the likes of T.S. Eliot and Yeats. Any really great characters you can think of? I also like Basil and Eliot. The kids told me I should name him Gouvernail or Gaston because of the story we just read. I told them I would consider it. Maybe that could be part of his name. It has to be perfect.
This past weekend, with tears in my eyes, I turned the very last page of The Kite Runner. I really enjoyed the book I have begun The Picture of Dorian Gray and I am going to attempt to read this with my students. Whew! I feel like I am really pushing myself.
Having the week planned in advance has made everything easy. I go in every morning, make copies, order my coffee to be delivered to my room (!!!) and set up. My CT is still unorganized (because she can be and still be a really great teacher), but I have a nice little file drawer where I put all of my materials in particular folders, in a specific order. It works.
Yesterday I observed another teacher's room during one of my planning periods. The 9th grade “regulars” were presenting their life stories. It was a real experience for me. Many students have immigrated to the US from Mexico and their stories were touching. This 200lb. teddy-bear of a boy stood up in front of the class to tell us about the most thrilling points of his life: coming here. He apologized because his board looked “like a girl decorated it” and then, in his heavily accented English he said, “but, you know, everybody’s got a soft side, right?” It was real cute.
So many stories.
Today we finished up. Assigned literature circle roles and reviewed common mistakes on their summer reading essays (this is a new essay that I spent my weekend grading, not the one that I used for the contest). I designed a suggestion box so my kids could help me name my cat. This is the hardest thing EVER! I am leaning towards Ezra. However, I want a long, dignified name. Ezra is short. Ezra Pound influenced the likes of T.S. Eliot and Yeats. Any really great characters you can think of? I also like Basil and Eliot. The kids told me I should name him Gouvernail or Gaston because of the story we just read. I told them I would consider it. Maybe that could be part of his name. It has to be perfect.
This past weekend, with tears in my eyes, I turned the very last page of The Kite Runner. I really enjoyed the book I have begun The Picture of Dorian Gray and I am going to attempt to read this with my students. Whew! I feel like I am really pushing myself.
Having the week planned in advance has made everything easy. I go in every morning, make copies, order my coffee to be delivered to my room (!!!) and set up. My CT is still unorganized (because she can be and still be a really great teacher), but I have a nice little file drawer where I put all of my materials in particular folders, in a specific order. It works.
Yesterday I observed another teacher's room during one of my planning periods. The 9th grade “regulars” were presenting their life stories. It was a real experience for me. Many students have immigrated to the US from Mexico and their stories were touching. This 200lb. teddy-bear of a boy stood up in front of the class to tell us about the most thrilling points of his life: coming here. He apologized because his board looked “like a girl decorated it” and then, in his heavily accented English he said, “but, you know, everybody’s got a soft side, right?” It was real cute.
So many stories.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Rinse and Repeat
I am going to spare you all the details of how amazing my debut performance was in the role of one and only teacher lady and provide you with an overview of my day.
I was prepared.
Each desk had a journal on it.
I had my copies of "Theme for English B" and the Feather Circle rules at the front table.
The kids came in, we worked on identifying prepositional phrases and the verbs/nouns/adverbs they modify and then BLASTOFF!
I asked the students to open the journals on their desks and answer one simple question: "Who are you?" Of course, each period asked a few questions about how length requirements, specifics, and other assignment type stuff that they always expect. Fortunately though they began writing. I sat at the front of the room and wrote along with them. This is what I wrote:
I am a student who is at the end of her journey. Or is this the beginning? As of yesterday I am the proud companion to a 2 month old kitten (name tentative...maybe Digby, Basil, Sprout, or something else). My teacher shoes are growing a bit more comfortable, however, I still have sore spot on my left foot. I am the leader. I am the follower. I am the student I am the teacher. My teacher's are 14 years old. I am learning every day. I am the product of a stubborn Southern man and a tough-as-nails mama from the North. I prefer pedaling over pushing the pedal to the metal. I don't eat anything that had a mother or a face. I find comfort in knowing that books help us outgrow our madness. Help us unlock certain secrets to the world. Within our own souls. Early to bed. Early to rise. That's who I am theses days.
After I read it they clapped...so kind. Three brave students per class read their entries too. Then we had a discussion about the common ways we identify ourselves.
I transitioned into this poem:
Theme for English B
It really sparked great conversation. We discussed who you becomes after "you" is no longer the instructor. I had written "But I guess I'm what I feel and see and hear" on the board and I asked the kids if this was accurate. If we really only those things. I asked if race defines us. I asked if the music we listen to defines us. I asked if I define them and they define me. I discussed the relationship that we were destined to have and how whether any of us like it or not, we are all a part of one another now. We are part of one another's journey. Hughes is a part of our journey too. We are "you."
The kids clapped after the poem was read aloud.
Um, what else? I explained the feather circles.
I gotta find a stick before Friday!
About three of the kids have done Feather Circles before. Apparently, those three had the wife of a writing professor from my university as their 8th grade teacher. Coincidence.
They should be well versed in the ways of the circle.
By fifth period I was flying through, comfortable with everything, and I didn't miss a beat. I really hope the feather circles are successful. We'll see.
Discussion rules. Poetry rules. My cat rules. I need to name the little darling.
![](http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1021/1356035125_a314b3ab76.jpg)
The first movie we watched together was Dead Poet's Society. "Oh Captain, my Captain!"
I was prepared.
Each desk had a journal on it.
I had my copies of "Theme for English B" and the Feather Circle rules at the front table.
The kids came in, we worked on identifying prepositional phrases and the verbs/nouns/adverbs they modify and then BLASTOFF!
I asked the students to open the journals on their desks and answer one simple question: "Who are you?" Of course, each period asked a few questions about how length requirements, specifics, and other assignment type stuff that they always expect. Fortunately though they began writing. I sat at the front of the room and wrote along with them. This is what I wrote:
I am a student who is at the end of her journey. Or is this the beginning? As of yesterday I am the proud companion to a 2 month old kitten (name tentative...maybe Digby, Basil, Sprout, or something else). My teacher shoes are growing a bit more comfortable, however, I still have sore spot on my left foot. I am the leader. I am the follower. I am the student I am the teacher. My teacher's are 14 years old. I am learning every day. I am the product of a stubborn Southern man and a tough-as-nails mama from the North. I prefer pedaling over pushing the pedal to the metal. I don't eat anything that had a mother or a face. I find comfort in knowing that books help us outgrow our madness. Help us unlock certain secrets to the world. Within our own souls. Early to bed. Early to rise. That's who I am theses days.
After I read it they clapped...so kind. Three brave students per class read their entries too. Then we had a discussion about the common ways we identify ourselves.
I transitioned into this poem:
Theme for English B
It really sparked great conversation. We discussed who you becomes after "you" is no longer the instructor. I had written "But I guess I'm what I feel and see and hear" on the board and I asked the kids if this was accurate. If we really only those things. I asked if race defines us. I asked if the music we listen to defines us. I asked if I define them and they define me. I discussed the relationship that we were destined to have and how whether any of us like it or not, we are all a part of one another now. We are part of one another's journey. Hughes is a part of our journey too. We are "you."
The kids clapped after the poem was read aloud.
Um, what else? I explained the feather circles.
I gotta find a stick before Friday!
About three of the kids have done Feather Circles before. Apparently, those three had the wife of a writing professor from my university as their 8th grade teacher. Coincidence.
They should be well versed in the ways of the circle.
By fifth period I was flying through, comfortable with everything, and I didn't miss a beat. I really hope the feather circles are successful. We'll see.
Discussion rules. Poetry rules. My cat rules. I need to name the little darling.
![](http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1021/1356035125_a314b3ab76.jpg)
The first movie we watched together was Dead Poet's Society. "Oh Captain, my Captain!"
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
She's Got a Pulse!
I am alive.
This week has been pretty slow, but next week will be very interesting as I am creating a unit right now and will be implementing it starting Monday. What I am teaching will be a surprise for you all. You will just have to read next week to find out! Here are some hints: I am an easily distracted Southern feminist who disapproves of racism and other forms of discrimination alike. I value expression of all forms and I like poetry. Stay tuned...
My students have been presenting their ABRs ("alternative book reports" for those of you not down with the eduspeak). What a success! I grade them with ease, simply filling out the rubrics as the students sing songs, act out skits, play movie trailors, or pull symbolic objects out of a brown bag. I have had a variety of presentations: sock puppets, radioesque recordings, paintings, fake tattoos full of symbolism, video representations, song and dance...the list goes on.
Our first Spectrum meeting was this morning. Spectrum is a Gay Straight Alliance at our school that acts as a support group and raises awareness. From my understanding it is less political - more social. Students and teachers alike participate in the Day of Silence, and this is a club that works towards acceptance and tolerance. I am glad to be at a school that hosts this club and these principles.
My thoughts keep drifting back to the idea of going to another country for six months or a year in January and teaching English. It is prime time for me to take my life by the balls (pardon the language) and, besides, I got some soul searching/internal excavatin' to do. It will probably just spark my flame and fill me with the wanderlust though. I may never return.
-OR-
If you know my folks talk them into sending me to Chile for a month or so after graduation!!! You know, Moms, for research!
Some friends of mine had a healthy baby boy today! That kid has an amazing adventure ahead of him!
This week has been pretty slow, but next week will be very interesting as I am creating a unit right now and will be implementing it starting Monday. What I am teaching will be a surprise for you all. You will just have to read next week to find out! Here are some hints: I am an easily distracted Southern feminist who disapproves of racism and other forms of discrimination alike. I value expression of all forms and I like poetry. Stay tuned...
My students have been presenting their ABRs ("alternative book reports" for those of you not down with the eduspeak). What a success! I grade them with ease, simply filling out the rubrics as the students sing songs, act out skits, play movie trailors, or pull symbolic objects out of a brown bag. I have had a variety of presentations: sock puppets, radioesque recordings, paintings, fake tattoos full of symbolism, video representations, song and dance...the list goes on.
Our first Spectrum meeting was this morning. Spectrum is a Gay Straight Alliance at our school that acts as a support group and raises awareness. From my understanding it is less political - more social. Students and teachers alike participate in the Day of Silence, and this is a club that works towards acceptance and tolerance. I am glad to be at a school that hosts this club and these principles.
My thoughts keep drifting back to the idea of going to another country for six months or a year in January and teaching English. It is prime time for me to take my life by the balls (pardon the language) and, besides, I got some soul searching/internal excavatin' to do. It will probably just spark my flame and fill me with the wanderlust though. I may never return.
-OR-
If you know my folks talk them into sending me to Chile for a month or so after graduation!!! You know, Moms, for research!
Some friends of mine had a healthy baby boy today! That kid has an amazing adventure ahead of him!
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