Ready or Not

Good news! I’ve had a couple of days off, time with family, lots of good food and too much coffee drunk while reading the entire newspaper. I woke up Saturday morning thinking about my classes and my students. My first thoughts were about the upcoming world civilization unit on explorers. So I must be refreshed. That’s why teachers need breaks! I’m enthusiastic again.

I teach special education high school, English and Social Studies. My schedule this semester is a little schizophrenic – I feel split in numerous directions. I teach a self-contained English 9 class first period. Due to scheduling issues and some students who really needed a class, I teach a concurrent English 11 self-contained class. Second period is either a self-contained World Civilization class, or a co-taught US History class, depending on the A day B day schedule. We teach on the 86-minute block, every other day schedule. Third period is either a planning period or a co-taught World Civilization class. Fourth period is either co-taught English 9 or my B day planning period.

To summarize, four different preps. But my co-taught and my self-contained classes aren’t always on the “same page” or doing the same activities, so although the information remains the same, the materials and planning do not. So I feel as though I have seven preps. With the co-taught classes I rely heavily on the general educator to prepare the content, while I work to provide support to students by modifying materials or preparing alternative assessments and assignments.

Co-teaching is not a perfect system. Since I work with three different general educators in three different subjects, I do not have planning time with each of them – or any of them, actually. Rather than sitting together and planning out each lesson, too often I am catching them in the hall to ask about tomorrow, or reviewing assignments through email. I like to lead the lessons and prepare materials for the co-taught classes, but it’s not always possible. Besides, if the co-teacher is doing six sections of the same subject, s/he usually has materials prepared. The advantage of co-teaching is that I can often modify materials to use in my self-contained classes. I learn a great deal from the general educators, and try to contribute something to them as well. I am qualified in both content areas, so that helps. I didn’t study Education in college, but I study history and language arts all the time now! Again, the advantage of being an older new teacher is that my life experiences (and years of reading) have given me knowledge.

So this Sunday I am planning lessons on the books Night by Elie Wiesel, Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers, and Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. I’m reviewing the Harlem Renaissance, the Age of Exploration, and the Immigrant Experience of the 19th century. This week I’ll be teaching how to analyze symbolism, write obituaries to summarize a life, the effect of writer’s purpose and tone, and how cross-cultural contact and scientific innovation change history. Plus some work on grammar, and how to write an essay question, and reviewing for a unit test. I’ll teach specific information to try to teach the big concepts -- tolerance of ethnic differences, recognition of socio-economic challenges, the effect of politics (and politicians) on citizens, the cumulative effect of historical events. Maybe I’ll even teach a little bit about life. Learning from the lives of people long in the past, through my life, to the students’ lives.

Whatever. I’m ready. I’m refreshed. I’m excited! I think I can make it to the December break.

Posted by at 10:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

It’s Sunday night, and I feel great! I think to myself. Then I have to ask, Why? Uh oh, guilt sets in as I recognize my mindset. I feel great because I don’t have to teach tomorrow! What kind of a teacher would say that, even if only to herself? And here I am saying this publicly, that I am happy I am not teaching tomorrow.

This is a confession. Here it is: I am tired. I work so hard, and teaching is stressful. So this week, when I don’t have to teach students, I am relaxed, rested, and unstressed. Cooking Thanksgiving dinner for ten is no big deal. Teaching 80 students for 258 minutes in three periods five days in a row, now THAT’s stressful.

Usually Sunday afternoons are a time to read textbooks, plan the week’s learning, differentiate materials and assessments, create graphic organizers or notes, check for supplies. As the day wears on I find myself growing stressed, worried about not having enough time to do what I need to do. Sunday evening I clean out my “teacher bag” and get ready to go, very early. I fill my weekly calendar with notes about meetings and to-do lists, those jobs I couldn’t get done on the weekend. Usually my Sundays don’t allow much down time.

Today, I spent my Sunday in a day of rest. I read the morning paper, cover-to-cover. I raked up leaves outside, and took a long walk in the afternoon sunshine. I chatted on the phone with my daughter, and cleaned the living room. I cooked a nice dinner. I watched a football game without holding a textbook in my lap. It was nice. The day seemed long, languid, and lovely. Didn’t have to worry about what I am doing tomorrow. Tomorrow our faculty is attending an all-day seminar. I get to be the student, not the teacher. I’ll learn something new, and don’t have to prepare anything!

I like teaching, and I hope I don’t sound whiny. I like preparing lessons: I find the process of lesson planning both creative and intellectually stimulating. I just feel like there’s never enough time to do it right.

I am thankful that I have a lot of support in my school, from administration, mentor teachers, media and technology specialists, department chairpersons. I am thankful especially for my fellow teachers, who share everything they have and hold me up when I am tired and stressed.

But mostly, this Sunday evening, I am thankful because I am not teaching this week. Enjoy the holiday!

Posted by at 6:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

My English 9 observation with Mrs. Stratton was good, and I am relieved. I tried to say I wouldn’t be nervous, but of course I was. The students were quiet until the point where they forgot the principal was sitting to the side of the classroom. Then they loosened up and began participating in their eager way. There was lots of discussion about symbols, several excited voices trying to share a personal story at once, and one student (who was annoyed with me from the previous day) with his back turned towards me. All’s good. The lesson was successfully completed.

My post-observation meeting also went well, and I was pleased to hear my principal say I was an excellent teacher. I was also surprised to hear her say that I “worked too hard” at times – that my job was to teach what needed to be taught, and if a student didn’t want to be part of it, sometimes you just had to send them out of the classroom. Well, I agree with that, and I know it’s true. But on the other hand, the student who had his back turned to me for the first ten minutes was fully engaged by the end. And the following day, when students used art supplies to illustrate their symbol, he drew an amazing representation of himself as a dog. He drew a pit bull, mind you, with its teeth bared and eyes staring. The student described the dog as “aggressive and dangerous” but added that pit bulls also were very loyal and protected their families. “Dogs”, he said, “are mostly smart, like humans. They need to be with someone else.” I think he did understand what it meant to use a symbol to represent something else, because later he could tell me about how the bird represented the boy in “The Scarlet Ibis”. Now that’s an effective lesson. A child learned something, read something, and then applied new knowledge to literature and to his own life. That’s education.

Another student told me his symbol was a turtle because turtles are slow and don’t really get anywhere, and hide in their shells. The turtle he drew had a big “E” on his shell to indicate failure. I spent five minutes talking with him about how turtles are persistent, and will do anything to get where they are going. Did you know that if you see a turtle crossing a road, and turn him around, that he will just start over and cross the road again? Better to pick him up and carry him over. I got the student on the internet looking for pictures of turtles to draw from. The first turtles he found were cartoon-like, slow, silly. But then he found the one he wanted – Testudo, the University of Maryland Terrapin mascot. A fighter, a turtle of strength. You know, “Fear the Turtle”. The student adopted that design as his symbol. A turtle with a big “P” on his shell for persistence. Now that’s a life lesson. That’s education.

Posted by at 3:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)