So now my blog has to move on, to new topics and purposes. I want to continue to write and to hear from readers. As a career changer, older teacher, I know the value of shared experience.

So I am going to start writing as "In the Middle", and look at issues of middle school instruction. I assume its a different ballgame from the high school issues I'm used to. I assume it's different from the preschool concerns I used to face. I don't know enough about elementary education to comment about those differences.

I don't know much about middle school education, grades 6-8. I'm excited about this new venture, and I am beginning a self-directed learning program to increase my educator's expertise.

I'm also moving into a leadership role as department chairperson for Special Education, while teaching two classes. So I'll also be "in the middle" as I find my way between the school administration and the faculty.

In this blog I will communicate my new pedagogical thoughts, my lesson planning, and my experiences moving to a new school and grade level, and serving as a department chairperson. I hope you'll share your responses with me.

First of all, let me tell you about the Prom, with gorgeous girls and handsome boys and smiling administrators. Our Senior Prom was a great success. No one got sick in the bathroom, no one was obviously under any illicit influences, and no one broke up loudly with their date. I felt pretty good in my new dress. The sad note -- Laura, my fellow Class Advisor, lost her father the week of Prom and couldn't come. I missed her a lot that night, and grieved with her at the funeral the next day. My daughter Katie and two of her college friends came to help, and they were the key to success. They put up decorations, hung balloons, passed out glowsticks. They kept me calm. They kept telling me how wonderful it all was. It was wonderful. Joyful, even. A celebration.

Next came our graduation -- 470 graduates outdoors on an extremely hot night. It was a lovely ceremony, even dignified, except for the beachballs students managed to blow up right under our noses. It was joyful for our graduates and their families, and for myself and Laura. We celebrated the end of our Senior Advisor responsibilities.

Now it's the end of the school year, and students and teachers are joyful. Summer is here. I am joyful, too, although my happiness is tinged with a little sadness. I'm changing schools. I was asked to apply for a position as department chair for special education. I accepted the job at a middle school in my hometown. So I'm leaving Arundel High School.

My new school assignment is closer to home. In fact, it's my home middle school. My son attended it back in the '90's. Some of the children I cared for as babies may be in that school now, or will be soon. It's like coming full circle.

That's education for you. Just as I thought I was figuring it all out, the plans change. But as you should know now, I value new experiences, and believe that everything comes together with meaning eventually. I'm finishing the first season of my educational career at Arundel High School, and looking to the next at Southern Middle School. My memories at one are joyful, and my anticipation of the next is equally enthusiastic. After all, its the season for celebrations.

I hope you're celebrating another successful year. Be joyful!

I have been busy. I came to high school teaching at the age of 45, after several other careers. I jumped in with both feet – committees, projects, graduate classes, conferences. I have looked for every opportunity and welcomed it. I have worked really hard and I have learned a great deal. I have been busy, and it’s been good.

But I wonder if there comes a time when too much professional involvement is just too much. So let me ask my colleagues – you – how do you temper your enthusiasm with realistic limitation?

To keep it in perspective, let me share this with you. It’s Senior Prom Week, and I am one of the Senior Class Advisors. I’m worrying about prom favors, and guest registration, and decorations, and music play lists. I have a long list of “to-do’s” and people to contact. I have learned one really important thing from this involvement. If another teacher or staff member offers to help, say, “Yes thank you!” That’s a lesson I can use if I do ever become an administrator. Always say “yes” if you get an offer of help, and always say “thank you”.

I’ve also learned to prioritize. If you do what’s most important, everything else will fall into place. I bought my prom dress. It’s floor-length, black, and sparkly. I found black sandals yesterday - had to get new shoes because my “teacher flats” weren’t very glamorous.

So I’m done looking for myself. Every time I walk into a classroom I know who and where I am. Yes, with everything else, I am first of all responsible for teaching, and I know it. I’m here to guide learning, because it is about the children. Same for Prom, it’s about our seniors and celebrating their four years at Arundel High School. When I remember that, then I know where I am.

I am still looking for the perfect tiara for my dress, though ….

I think my students learned something.

I teach four different classes of freshman English. One of my classes is a self-contained special education class. Three of the students are repeating the class, and all have learning disabilities or conditions which affect their rate and degree of comprehension and participation. I truly like them all. Every day brings a challenge which keeps me eager.

All freshmen, as part of the introduction to William Shakespeare, have to write an original sonnet. They choose the topic, and I help them mold it to the correct form of three quatrains, one couplet, and iambic pentameter. I have a love/hate relationship (to use an oxymoron as per Shakespeare) with this assignment. The students start out saying, “I can’t do it”, and I wonder if they will. But by the end all the students do it. It is such a great experience for them.

So one student, a tenth grader, began writing a sonnet about playing football. He isn’t a highly able student, but this year he seems willing to try. He got two quatrains down with my direct help, but just couldn’t make the third one work. So I typed up his draft and asked him read it to the class.

Objective for the lesson: Students will review the sonnet form by helping James fix his original work through discussion and revision. As soon as he read it aloud, students started telling him what was wrong. “You don’t have ten syllables”. “The EFEF rhyme scheme is wrong”. “Your meaning gets lost halfway through.” I was thrilled – they were actually applying acquired knowledge without my direct prompting. It took ten minutes, ten peers, and zero teachers to help this young man revise his sonnet correctly.

The best part? James had never before (at least in my class) shared work that he had written. He looked so proud. I believe all the students were proud that they had helped him. Their eagerness to do so taught me a lesson. By letting the students teach each other, they taught me.

I can’t wait to mail the finished product home to his mother. I can't wait to see those kids walking into our classroom.

I’ve enrolled in an administrator certification cohort. At first I thought I would NEVER want to be an administrator, but now I’m not so sure. I’ve been active in school committees, attended seminars and summits, talked to our district’s leaders, and read a lot of current literature on the future of America’s schools and America’s school kids. I could be part of shaping that future.

We who entered education from other careers have a lot to offer that hasn’t been tapped in our school positions. For example, as a child care provider, I became an early childhood specialist. I am not “certified”, but I know a lot about child development. I’ve worked with babies who had developmental delays and children who were gifted. I’ve worked very closely with families who needed childcare – the wealthy and those who used government vouchers to pay me. I worked with childcare professionals across the state, and I have good connections with those who get our children ready to learn. But my high school and school district don’t know that, and don’t use my skills in this area.

As a business owner (of the childcare business) I learned the importance of organization, and planning, and efficiency. When you work alone you are efficient. Materials are organized and available when and where you need them. Files are current, and needed papers are ready for use. If you need something, you get it. Meetings are scheduled in advance, and much is done by telephone rather than by face-to-face committees. When I had a question, I knew someone to call and ask. A business owner is a problem solver. I am frustrated by the lack of business-like organization I deal with every day in my school. As an administrator, could I help solve these basic problems? (Which copier is working? Where do I get a cord for my computer? Which phone line can I use to reach a parent? Where are transparencies? Why can't I have the books I need for my students?)

I bring a history of community involvement to my new career. I served my neighborhood association as an officer. I know how to write letters and make phone calls to find information and solve a problem. I can pull a group of people together to create an event or a task-force. But I don’t have time in my school to be an active link to the community. My school is not where I live, so I don’t even KNOW this community. So this skill is not used.

I’ve also been a writer, published in local newspapers and of course, on-line. I can write a mean newsletter, letter, feature story, survey. I’ve taught adults, through the community college, and know the difference between classes for preschoolers and workshops for career people who want something to take home and use now. So should I become a staff development trainer? An education writer? Volunteer to write the school newsletter?

The skills I have developed in past professions may translate to my life as an educator, but I haven’t quite figured it all out yet. Perhaps as an assistant principal I could bring it all together. Or maybe I need to move to the “central office” as a mentor, or resource teacher. I am a good teacher, and maybe I belong in the classroom for the next twenty years. If only I could afford to do so. If I want to retire with a livable income, I have to increase my income. Sad but true, I don’t think I can afford to be a classroom teacher for my whole career.

Several people have told me recently that it’s important to have varied experiences as a teacher in order to keep all options open. Is it time to move on to a different school assignment? More on that later this week as I think it through. Which path? Don't know yet.

10. Grade some things verbally. If a child can tell you a good theme statement, does she really need to write it down for you to carry home to pull out of a folder to read and write a “good job” on it and to put back in the folder back in the bag back in the car to hope you can find it tomorrow when class meets again?

9. Join a school-wide committee. The more you know about the big picture of your school, the better prepared you’ll be for new challenges.

8. Get to know teachers from other departments. As an English teacher I don’t hear much about the Math department. But I make a point to talk with math teachers in the halls or at social events. So if I have a math question, or need to find out about a student, or just want a kind word after school, I have friends all over.

7. Talk to other teachers, positively and enthusiastically. Tell them what great things are happening in your classroom. They will feel competitive and will want to share great things with you – so you’ll have a never-ending source of great ideas to use!

6. Practice your discipline. If you teach English, read good literature for pleasure. If you teach science, conduct your own experiment. Remind yourself of what you love about your subject.

5. Refresh your mind. Try something new. Take up a new kind of puzzle, learn a video game, begin writing, try a musical instrument, a foreign language, or a different sport. We ask our students to learn something new, so we should be willing to do so ourselves. It will make you feel smart.

4. Model what you’re teaching. Do what you’re asking the students to do. If they are writing a reflection on something just read, write one yourself. Keep your own portfolio and writer’s notebook.

3. Develop a support network. We all need someone to whine to when things aren’t going right. A trusted co-worker (who won’t pass on the information that you had a minor breakdown this morning) or a family member who doesn’t mind listening will help you keep your sanity.

2. Know when to be quiet. Sometimes we talk about our jobs too much, boring others (like spouses) near to death. Sometimes we comment on students, or other teachers, or the principal, without thinking. Develop an awareness of when it is best to count to ten instead of speaking.

1. Know when to make noise. Celebrate Success and Challenge. When a problem is overcome, or a milestone is reached, we must celebrate - sometimes privately, sometimes with public recognition. Celebrate the victories of others, and don’t be shy about celebrating those of yourself. Celebration brings joy.

I'm going to print this out myself, on fancy paper, and hang it in my classroom. Good ideas to see me through the winter. Hope you can use them!

We had visitors, including our Principal. Mrs. Stratton knows these students well, having observed many of their classes, band concerts and football games. She was so impressed she gave a school-wide thank you to the students on the morning announcements. I was so proud of them, I had to sit down and write each student a card. I mailed them yesterday. I hope the students will show their parents their finished booklet and my card.

A gift for me. It was a wonderful hour – a tale worth telling.

Last year, my second year as a high school teacher, I had some new students in my world history class (with a couple of come-agains), and some of the same students in my 11th grade English class. I knew them better, and they knew me better. We worked more efficiently. I was more organized, knowledgeable, and educated. The students were more trusting, and cooperative. We had challenges, but met them fairly well. I learned a lot more, and they learned something, too.

This year I’m all English, all the time. Fortunately, I’m teaching The Canterbury Tales and Beowulf and Night, books rich with history lessons. I love social studies, and I don’t know how you can teach literature without a good basis in world history. My co-teachers love it because I can answer those questions students like to ask, fact-based inquiries that inform the reader.

So my English 12 students have finished reading the Tales, and have written their own version – The Arundel Tales. We’re telling the story of a group of people who make a pilgrimage to New York City to seek a new life. We have the Tales of the Individualist, the Counselor, the Administrator, the Preppy, the Athlete, and the Innkeeper. We have a prologue, and a character list. Their stories are short and shallow, and were pulled from them with effort. We didn’t develop the richness I had hoped for. In discussions, the stories were imaginative and detailed, funny and inspiring. But it's so hard for these students to get their words onto paper. The solution was simple. After all, the idea was to tell the story. So although we have a finished written product, I will help my students tell their stories today -- aloud, with friends, the way stories are meant to be told. We worked hard, and we are going to celebrate.

Today we celebrate what we have accomplished, in a presentation to our favorite administrators and Principal. I’m serving breakfast “At the Tabard Inn” (authentic, insofar as our research showed that bread cheese and meat were staples). The readings will be short but in them I will see more than two years of my students’ lives. I will see them as young men and women who have learned something. I will celebrate.

When I celebrate what my students have learned, I am also celebrating my growth as an educator. They have learned something about medieval England and literature. I have learned a lot more than that.

I will celebrate when these students cross the stage and graduate in May. They will start their own pilgrimage. I will miss them, but I’ll celebrate. That's every Teacher's Tale.

I received many emails requesting my booklet, and I am happy to share my ideas with my colleagues. Both experienced and new teachers shared their ideas with me. What a professional community we have! From California to Texas, Connecticut to Florida, and Australia to Mexico, responses have flown into my e-mailbox. I’ve enjoyed hearing from all of you, and hope this exchange continues. If you didn’t request my notes on using manipulatives before, you can by email to hdenney@aacps.org

So I’ve been thinking about another idea, prompted by reader comments. One teacher suggested that music could be an educational manipulative because it’s tangible and involves the senses. I agree. I have often used music in my lesson plans for both social studies and English classes. I’ve also used music as a classroom management tool. I have a portable CD player, which I often lend to other teachers. I’m thinking of purchasing new music electronics. Wonder if I can get a grant for that? Here are some specific ideas on using music in the classroom:

Music for Management – Classical music does focus the mind and stimulate creativity. How do I know? Because I’ve seen it in my room. I often play classical music as students enter the room. It sets a certain tone. Classical guitar music is excellent for testing situations. Students hear it, but don’t notice it much. It helps to isolate them by helping them focus on what’s in front of them. Testing is smoother (less distractions, inappropriate conversations, student movement) when I use this type of music. Gregorian Chant is great for quieting a room – but play it too long and students go to sleep. I used it during nap time with my preschool children! Lively, exciting music is great to wake students up, or to signal a transition from one activity to another.

Music for Instruction - I also use music in history lessons. You can’t teach the Harlem Renaissance (Caged Bird) without jazz, or World War I (nationalism) without Wagner. Justine Philyaw wrote that she uses music and art with her students because "creating a context for students builds motivation as well as strengthens understanding." When I teach Gandhi, we listen to Indian music while contemplating important quotations. For world exploration, YoYo Ma’s Silk Road Project is perfect. Music in English class reinforces ideas about language. During Beowulf I found some early Celtic music and now I’m playing English Renaissance music for Canterbury Tales. This year we played Carrie Underwood in English 9 to introduce a discussion of revenge, and Johnny Cash for themes of personal journeys. I’ve invited a very creative student to create a soundtrack for her life for a project on autobiographies – her learning style is not word-based. I’ve used musical instruments as transition tools, or for cultural experience, or for teaching the importance of teamwork. When I incorporate music into my lesson it always gives me “bonus points” on my observations. Sometimes students say “Oh no, Mrs. Denney has music again!” But they always listen, because they’re curious. And curiosity is the first step towards learning.

Music for Pleasure – sometimes music is just for enjoyment. During independent work time I’ve played Disney themes, blues, and contemporary music just because it sounds good. Students are invited to contribute music to listen to. But I’m careful about what I play. I have a 40-minute ride each way to school – so I have car time to review a CD lent by a student before using it in class. That also builds a relationship between the student and myself. I also scout the public library’s collection for new material.

I may be older, but I like lots of music, and students appreciate that I am curious, too. I am still learning. Learning keeps me from burning out! Gets me up with excitement for the day ahead.

Here’s how I am getting over my case of Third-Year Syndrome. I presented a workshop at a conference for educators in my county: “Manipulatives in Secondary Social Studies and English”. My background is in early childhood education, and I applied what I know about teaching with manipulatives to very young children to what I know about teaching older children. It occurred to me that if I am teaching to multiple intelligences, and differentiating for learning styles and abilities, then using manipulatives is a good way to go. I’ve used seashells and cotton balls, little green army men, paintbrushes and post-it notes. I’ve had students moving around to tap out sonnet rhythms, and I’ve served rice with spices to demonstrate the importance of trade. I’ve used lots of “tricks” to reach my students. I believe in the theory of learning styles. I decided to share my experiences.

When I gave this workshop a week ago, the teachers who attended seemed to get excited by the ideas I was presenting. Some contributed their own ideas, which got me excited about other things I could do. I promised to write down the ideas, and send it out to the participants. I haven’t finished it yet, but I will this week. I couldn’t find much research on the topic, although it makes a lot of common sense to me. If a child needs to touch something, or create a visual image, or move something (including their own body) to learn, then I need to provide the opportunity to do so. Even in high school.

It is intuitive to me that adding manipulatives makes learning more fun and interactive. Students may not talk to each other in class discussion, but they’ll pass spices around to smell and taste. Students will remember more about the lesson reinforced with manipulatives. I know that’s true, even if it’s not “proven” yet. The little children I taught years ago still remember about horseshoe crabs because we dug holes in the beach and buried pebbles, just like the crabs dig to bury their eggs. My senior English 12 students remembered trench warfare of World War I (taught in my 10th grade World Civilization class two years ago) because they had lined up little soldiers standing in trenches drawn on a chart. I just tested my theory of secondary manipulative use. I asked these same kids to describe trench warfare in writing, and had very little response. But when I gave them the little army men to set up again, 8 out of 10 students were able to describe the horrors of trench warfare. Only one said, “I still have no idea” after the exercise. This is a rather small sample, I know, but I think it works.

So. I’m back into the excitement of teaching because I presented my ideas to my colleagues, and received some positive feedback. Maybe that’s what I need to do when I am feeling bogged down by “same-old, same-old”. Try something new, and talk about it, and ask others about it, and write about it. I have to get excited about it.

I’m looking forward to school this week. Hope you are, too.

And if you want a copy of my notes on using manipulatives in secondary English and Social Studies, send me an email at hdenney@aacps.org. You have to promise to add your own ideas and send it back to me. Keep me excited.

I am asking myself what kind of teacher I am. Am I a good teacher? Usually I think so, but right now I’m not that sure. This past couple of weeks has been hard. I am struggling with classroom management. I know its normal that after a month or so of school the freshmen have lost their initial trepidation and are now eager to find out how far the rules bend. Students who are struggling know their grades are low, and they’ve found out that sometimes it’s easier to avoid work by causing trouble than to attempt something that’s difficult. The “good” students are frustrated by the disruptive students, and are losing their patience with their classmates. They’re losing patience with me, waiting for me to get my teacher act together. I feel like I’m doing the least I can do.

Administration is starting to deal with the problems and we hear a list of “don’t forgets” and “be vigilant”. Our positive intervention system doesn’t have any more “Pride Bucks” to give out and students are wondering where the reward is. I’m working ten-hour days at school, with two hours of work at home every night, and scheduling my weekends around the long lesson planning I need to do. I need more of something – time would help, but that’s not enough. I think I need some love.

I have third-year teacher syndrome. The first year, there are mentors and support programs with seminars and free materials. The second year the mentor follows-up, and you’re still new enough that you can ask questions and not feel ignorant. Last year, my second year, I completed my teacher certification program and received my master’s degree. I had classes, and workshops, and conversations with experienced teachers. I had confirmation.

Third year, that’s all gone. No more mentoring or new teacher training. It’s not just that I learned a lot from those programs. It’s an issue of positive encouragement. The first two years people were around all the time, telling me I was doing well, and offering suggestions for improvement.

I am whining, I know. I need someone to tell me I’m doing a good job, that the students are learning, and that I continue to improve. I guess all teachers feel this way sometime, as if we’re struggling alone. We all need validation.

Well, I know what to do. Polish off my rosy attitude and walk back into school tomorrow with expectations of high achievement - first from myself, and then from my students. If I need help, I’m going to ask for it. If I see another teacher doing a really great job, I’m going to compliment him on his effort and skill. I’ll watch him and learn from what he’s doing. Then maybe I can turn it around and face one of the new, first-year teachers, and share some experience and words of encouragement. I’ll give that new teacher some love. It’s the least I can do.

Last posting I described my classes - four classes of English 9, and one class of English 12. I am a special educator, and three of my freshmen classes are co-taught sections, meaning that some of the students have IEP’s and some don’t. But all have needs, “special” or not. I teach students with learning disabilities, health impairments such as attention deficit disorders, emotional disturbances, autism, vision/hearing impairments, and unspecified multiple disorders. I also teach students who have not performed well in school, who don’t like to read, who have challenges at home which impact learning. Each student is different, yet they have one thing in common: youth.

I’m going to be careful and call them “youthful” and not “immature”. The ninth graders are fresh from middle-school, where goofing off was appreciated by their peers and sometimes accepted by their teachers. Fun was an important part of learning. School was what you did when you weren’t playing. Now let me be clear that I’m only repeating what the students say – I know middle school is as academically rigorous, but it is different.

High school isn’t so much fun. We’re working. Learning is a job now. School is your life, and playing is in distant second-place. We don’t have much time for social breaks, and goofing off, and recreation. Every class is planned with an objective, a task, an agenda. I need to know, before you leave today, whether you’ve reached this objective. You need to prove to me, right now, if you’re learning.

The freshmen will have their real test when they take the high school assessment exams which evaluate their worthiness for a diploma. But each day in my classroom is an assessment. If you don’t get what I’m offering today, tomorrow won’t be good. So I’ll teach it again, maybe in a different way. We’ll work harder.

Seniors are a little different. My one class of seniors is all self-contained students. This group of ten students has been taking classes together throughout high school, sometimes back to elementary school. They know each other well. They know each other’s family stories, and they know each other’s abilities and struggles. They are accepting of each other, and for the most part, supportive. They are getting worried about next year.

The Seniors discuss things differently than do the Freshmen. We talk about adulthood. The 12th grade English class is studying Beowulf, which has some great themes in it. On Thursday we had a Socratic Seminar on the topic of relationships. What is Friendship? Kinship? Loyalty? Enmity? These kids jumped into discussion head-first. I heard stories about single mothers raising children, and older children raising younger siblings. I heard from a 19 year-old who’s been supporting the family since he was 14. An 18 year-old, college-hopeful man outlined what kind of father he plans to be in the future. He knows what is needed because his father has been absent. A young woman of 18 spoke of wanting to move to Atlanta to experience the excitement and change a big city might offer. I heard stories of friends, and enemies. Some of those stories were remembered from middle school, some from ninth grade, some from last week. Some families had changed a lot in three years, and some students had as well.

How did I know the 12th grade students had achieved the learning objective? They ended the seminar by writing their definitions of those four words. Next class we’ll apply those words to writing themes for Beowulf. That connects literature to personal relevance.

Starting, and finishing. The freshmen look back sort of wistfully – it was easier in middle school. The seniors look back regretfully – I could have done it differently. The freshmen look ahead with excitement and fear – can I do it? What is “it” going to look like? The seniors look ahead with dreams and disquiet – Can I find it? When I do, will “it” look like my dream?

As a teacher it’s my job to present the objectives of the curriculum and evaluate whether or not the students have achieved the learning goals. As an adult, working with children, it’s my job to present students with the opportunity to identify their dreams, and evaluate whether they have what they’ll need to reach them. And if they don’t, I’m going to try again, maybe in a different way. I’ll work harder. Until they get it. Until they grow up. It's time.

Week one: students come in quietly, sit where directed to sit, write what they’re told to write. They are fairly compliant and rather anxious. They don’t know their way around, they don’t know the teachers, and they’re thinking of all the bad stories they’ve heard from older siblings. They are wondering how they get to the cafeteria and if they’ll have time to eat.

Week two: it’s not the same group of students as last week. They know their way around and haven’t been lost recently. They’ve made some new friends, and they’ve identified people to avoid so they have their safety zone. They know the teachers’ names, and most of the teachers know their names by now. The building is starting to feel like “my school”, not “the high school.”

Of course in week two some students need to try to carve out a special niche for themselves. So I have dealt with some pre-bullying issues as tough kids try to feel out who the weaker students are. We’ve had a few kids who didn’t turn in their homework on time. So we called parents the second day to let them know their child’s grade was already plummeting. We’ve enforced rules, and changed seating charts twice, studied IEP’s and Behavior Plans. I’ve spent time talking “man-to-man” with a student in the hall to find out what’s going on, or to let them know the possible consequences of their second week choices.

Two weeks in, and we are teaching. We’re passed the procedural/administrative discussions. We’re deep into poetry themes and application of themes. We’re beginning short stories next week. This is my third year teaching, and now the curriculum is well-known to me. But still students amaze me when they offer insights I’ve not heard before. I can apply a poem’s theme to “real life”, but I am inspired when a student applies it to his own life and I hear a story of struggle and courage and persistence. Such as the student who spent years in a foster home, who had to tell the class she didn’t have childhood photos to put on her Life’s Journey Map. Or the shy student who stood in front of the class to say it is two years now since his policeman father died in the line of duty, and his map has a lot of bridges crossing over obstacles. Or the student who realized (I think for the first time) just how great a childhood she’d had as she showed photos of cruises, family reunions, summer camps with friends, and birthday-present bicycles.

I enjoy freshmen because their ideas are fresh and they have not yet learned to think ideas over before sharing. They don’t measure their words. They like to participate.

My sixth class is English 12. I knew every one of the students on my class list before school began. I’ve taught them in US History, World Civilization, or English 11 last year. They are an outstanding group of students. They are not Honors-level students, but they are able students. Some are now thinking of four-year colleges. They are students who have learned how to self-accommodate disabilities and family issues. They get themselves to school, and jobs, and take care of younger siblings. They have an incredible awareness of what it will take for them to get ahead, and they are frightened because they know it’s going to be hard to get there. But these are kids who have always had to work hard to achieve the goals of the curriculum. And I’m inspired because they’ve made it to their last year in high school, and life is just beginning to open up to them. I know we’re going to have some interesting conversations in that class. And I know I have a real obligation to them, to help them conclude this stage of their life.

It’s interesting, how I’m working with both freshmen and seniors this year - the two book-ends of the high school career. I’m excited about it!

My professional focus is on learning from the master teachers, mentors, and award winners in education. This is year three for me. I know how to teach, basically. I know how to grade, basically. I know how to differentiate for IEP students, basically. I’m thinking of our state assessments, with categories of “Basic”, “Proficient”, and “Advanced”. Now I need to become proficient, and move to the next level. “Advanced” is still years away. So let me share something I recently read and which inspires me when I grow tired:

“When I teach my heart fills up with love, my soul deepens, my mind expands, my spirit dances, my hands create, my eyes behold beauty, and praise is what I do.” Linda Alson, winner of the Kinder Excellence in Education Award (quoted in Education World Wire Side Chat). Thanks, Linda Alson, for letting me rely on your words this year.

Summer’s nearly over, and here’s the list of things I did not do. I didn’t scrapbook my family photos. I didn’t start my EBay business to get rid of the stuff I didn’t sort through. I didn’t read the entire stack of books by my bed. I didn’t see all the old friends I wanted to see.

Here’s what I did, though. I spent a day at the Smithsonian museums in DC. I saw Titian paintings, the Ruby Slippers, meteors and diamonds, the Bill of Rights, Muppets, and the flag that flew at the Pentagon on 9-12-01. I saw people from all over the United States; and indeed the world, who came to Washington, DC to see our nation’s treasures. I learned a lot in just one day, and that felt good. I spent this day with my husband, and that was wonderful. Discovery.

I did read some books. Beowulf – never tried that one before, and I’m teaching it this year. I’m planning on introducing Beowulf by giving an introduction in Danish. I think the sounds of the language will set the tone. The Great Gatsby – tried it before, but never finished it. I guess it is a good book after all. These is My Words – recommended by my public librarians, and now I’ll recommend it to you. It’s enjoyable. Sharing. I also read the newspaper almost every day – both the front page sadness and the relief of the comic strips.

I sent a daughter to Australia. She’s doing well. I coped with tragedy when my son lost a dear friend in an accident. My son’s doing OK. I think about them both all the time.

I worked on school committees. We’re having daily advisory meetings, and I’m on the committee to plan the lessons and activities. I’m excited about this program, because it will encourage relationship building between teachers and students. I’m on the School Improvement Team, and we’ve met to discuss, plan, and refine initiatives for improvement. I’m now the Senior Class Advisor, with my friend Laura Coe, so I’m planning a Prom! When you’re a teacher you never know what you’re getting into!

I have seen some old friends. I spent a week with a former childcare client. Michael is a charming and inquisitive six-year-old. He is just a lot of fun. We went swimming, we ate lunch at a restaurant, we read books and built battle scenes with action figures. Michael came to school with me one day and enjoyed seeing where the big kids learn. He was not all that impressed. We watched “Finding Nemo”. We met up with Brady, another old friend, who at the age of seven is equally energetic and engaging. We climbed on rocks and watched the skates and jellyfish in the Chesapeake Bay. We went out for ice cream sundaes. We laughed a lot. Joy.

All of these activities involved my mind and my heart. I learned something new, and I remembered what I already knew. Childhood and youth should be a time of Discovery, of Sharing, and of Joy. Adulthood should echo these same qualities.

Let us begin the school year with the memories of summer fun. Let us begin with a renewal of these values – Discovery, Sharing, Joy.

Be Joyous, and Share what you Discover.

When I was a kid, I spent summer exploring my suburban neighborhood. My friends and I migrated as a herd from house to house, yard to yard, woods to river to library to pool. No matter where we went, mothers made food for us and fathers set up backyard games. In the summer I became a better bike rider, a stronger swimmer, a more creative artist, a practiced game player, a knowledgeable naturalist, and an experienced reader. That is really how it was in my neighborhood. I’m not making it up. Kids went home at the end of the day tired and eager for tomorrow. That’s community. Summer was great.

I just finished a one-week professional development opportunity for English teachers. The “Governor’s Academy” goal was to improve instruction by developing specific links between state-wide Core Learning Goals and assignments and assessments. It was a great class for me, because I was surrounded by teachers who had a lot more experience and knowledge. I’ve only been teaching English two years, and my college degree is in Anthropology. I am well-read, and can discuss literature easily. I love language. I’m a writer. But I have had to learn the appropriate and correct use of academic terms like style, tone, synthesis, and theme. During this four-day training I refined my knowledge and expanded my methods for sharing this knowledge with students. I became a better English teacher.

When I go to these kinds of professional development programs I look like a really experienced teacher. I’m almost 48, so my status as a “young” teacher isn’t obvious. Sometimes I wonder if people think “Wow, she isn’t very smart, because she’s asking very basic questions”. Of course I am smart because I ask basic questions. And sometimes I just gotta laugh and admit that I have no idea what the other participants are talking about, and explain how I became an English teacher. I took the road less traveled to high school.

This professional development program was worth a summer week. You know what I mean. Teachers need the summer to rest and frankly, to take care of other things we don’t have time for during the year. I have boxes of stuff to go through. I have family to visit. I have books to read. I’m sure you do, too. So when I am asked to attend a workshop or class in the summer, I want to know it’s worth it. Will I learn something new and useful? Will I get copies of graphic organizers and lesson plan materials? Will I bring home new books? A program is worth it if I can use what I learned with my students. This program was worth it.

We worked hard, and I met teachers from other schools and districts. We were friendly, and shared ideas and tips and struggles. We worked in teams to develop a basic lesson plan to use this year. We’ll meet again to review how the lesson went, and improve it. Eventually this lesson plan will available to other teachers to use.

We explored, we exercised our minds, and we shared creative ideas. We even ate lunch together. We went home at the end of the week tired, but eager for the new school year. That’s professional community. Summer is great.