Sahara Special

Sometimes something profound comes along at the exact moment that you need it to touch your heart. For me, it was kind of a mix of things. First, my life and the lives of my students were irreversibly altered when I took a chance on a then unknown book to me, "Sahara Special" by Esme Raji Codell. This is, incidentally, the author of the beloved book, "Educating Esme: Diary of a First Year Teacher" but this time she's writing for young adults.

As a culmination to the year, and a kind of graduation of sorts, I presented my students with three chapter books, one of which they would select to read for the last month of school and perform literature circle tasks with. The students have taken a great liking to the idea that they are responsible for discussing their books, and that each of them has a very special role to fulfill within the group. They have also blossomed under the notion that they are to take the role of teacher, ensuring all group members' understanding and explaining past tasks to their new owner.

As every teacher hopes to do, I chose books that were relevant and completely dynamic. I described them each in turn, read some excerpts aloud, and challenged my students to make a choice for themselves. They were to pick the book that THEY wanted to read (they weren't even allowed to be seen talking to a peer while filling out their secret ballot. I also did not sugar coat things, explaining that "Sahara Special" was indeed the longest and most challenging of the selections and asking students to step up if they felt they were ready. "Sahara Special" is, in fact, my biggest literature circle group.

Yesterday one of my girls was clutching her book to her chest as I talked about how each of our books have different personalities. She just kept professing her love over and over again. Another of my much more shy students came up to me privately yesterday and confessed that she wasn't really interested in reading until she started reading her story, "Tales of the 4th Grade Nothing" and now she is surprised how much she really loves reading. (Don't I wish I had done this earlier in the year!?)


"Good try," said Miss Pointy, "but I don't know if that's a lesson that is always so. What else can we come up with?"

"Wishes are powerful," said Dominique.

"Good," said Miss Pointy.

"Things change. They don't always stay the same," said Cordelia. "Like, you don't have to stay a kid."

"That's a good one, too. Anyone else?"

"School is a powerful place where things change and wishes come true," Paris said slowly. "It's a place where you can grow up, if you let yourself."

Out There Looking

Previously, I kind of thought my duty as an educator was to help screen candidates in order to find the best person to work with/understand our student population with a willingness to collaborate and work cooperatively on an ever growing and changing team.

I learned today that that is simply not true. It is so much worse than that.

Today I met three fantastic candidates. They are each beautiful and fantastic individuals who are all trying to make it in the worst job market my lifetime has ever seen. As I sit from my cushy side of the conference table, I just feel my heart breaking for all of the candidates that will be seen who are more than passionate and qualified, but who will be left out in the cold when our time here is done.

This decision sucks and I feel like a bad person.

Interview Questions

Calling all teachers: I am going to be sitting in on interviews for an open 5th grade teaching position this week. I was asked by The Powers to have a list of interview questions ready. Now obviously I can make some up and fare pretty well...but I just realized that I have a wealth of talent and brilliance out there and I would love to tap into it. So what do you, my fellow educators, consider to be the most important factors in hiring a candidate?

What would you ask?

Sometimes...

Sometimes I am amazed by the maturity with which my students handle disappointment.

Sometimes I wonder where their strength and poise comes from...and it makes me sad to think that they might have been trained through years of suffering disappointments the likes of which I was blessed not to face until adulthood.

Sometimes my students amaze me. Sometimes they act like 3 years olds and annoy the you-know-what out of me. But today, they were phenomenal. We were scheduled to have field day, a pirate theme, and some of them were so into it that they came in costume (something I totally encourage). We got to wear normal clothes instead of our stuffy uniforms (yes, that's right, my teacher clothes bind me and hinder my ability to be as bubbly and vivacious as I would be if I felt like myself, so I feel their pain). We had the most fantastic activities planned.

But then, mother nature happened. It rained, and rained, and continued to rain some more. Some evil and omenous weather person even predicted thunder storms as if it were just another day in the hood...not the most important day ever...the day that we stretched our wings, shed the shackles of the classroom, and displayed the awesome amount of team spirit that has been instilled in us over the year. (Epic, right?)

When my students walked in to school, one of them looked up at me and said dejectedly, "Field Day is canceled." It wasn't a question. I nodded, though it was a highly unnecessary action. Then, the students set about unpacking their backpacks, checking in the homework, and getting ready for the day. I thought, "Hmmm...I probably shouldn't let this go. Maybe I should say something about it." But nobody really looked like they needed anything said. I waited and let them learn about the rescheduled date on the announcements. One of them asked me what day of the week that would be. I hyped it up by adding that they would now get to wear regular clothes TWICE and that our last week of school would include a day off, a half day, a one hour day, AND field day. How lucky they were! They looked at me encouraged and with TOTAL trust that it would happen eventually, and that they could bide their time until then.

I didn't even offer consolation prizes (movies instead of "real work", indoor games and activities, etc.). They didn't ask. I just took them to Art class with a new sense of pride and admiration. These are not the whiny babies of years past, not even the less than mature students who I started the year with. These are the big kids, the kings and queens of our school. It is their last chance to be at the top for a while and they are wearing their crowns with grace and elegance today.

The End Times

It's true what they say, you never really realize what you have until it's gone (or almost gone). My students seem to be experiencing this mentality in droves (possibly for the first time in their lives).

Every day my 5th graders do something new and interesting to surprise me. I don't know why, after all these years, that it actually surprises me...but hey, maybe I'm a slow learner. In any case, they are starting to get this sense of The End Times and losing everything that they are comfortable and safe with as we heartlessly kick them out of the nest and send them out into the cruel cruel world (aka Middle School).

The evidence started small. I have this one kid (who actually isn't even a 5th grader, he's just moving over the summer), we'll call him Bob (no seriously, we do. even in class. It's a long story.) He has always been very wary of any physical contact from anyone. He doesn't appreciate a friendly pat on the shoulder and when his friends try to grab him for an enthusiastic hug he complains loudly and tries to get them off. We've all established that you just don't touch Bob because he doesn't like it. Throughout the year, my students have learned to respect that. Anyway, about two weeks ago, Bob started to randomly pat me on the arm as he passed me. The other day (completely out of nowhere and in the middle of a spelling lesson) he declared in sing-song voice, "Ms. Teach in the best teacher in the wooooorld." Yesterday when he put his hand up to answer a question I gave him five (because I'm goofy like that) and he grabbed my hand and held on.

Then, yesterday I was in the middle of a math lesson and it was just not going well. The students were frustrated, and I don't think I showed that I was, but they must have picked up on it. I gave up on the lesson half-way through, explained that we needed a break, and that we would pick it up again tomorrow. One of my students asked, "Well what are we going to do now?" to which my (secret) Favorite Pumpkin (the one with ADHD who has revolutionized my entire teaching process this year) responded promptly, "Hug Ms. Teach!!!" Then, all of a sudden, I had a swarm of small people all around me. May I remind you that these are FIFTH graders?! In my world, for the majority of the time, 5th graders are a little too cool for hugging their teacher.

My students are safe with me. This makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, but I think it makes their transition process even harder. If they were looking forward to leaving me, maybe things would be different. I'm trying to guide them through this just as I've guided them through everything else this year, but as I try to gradually let go, they are clinging to me for dear life.

Help Me Help You

My roommate and I (who conveniently teach in exactly the same school in exactly the same hallway and have exactly the same lunch period) were discussing our day yesterday and, as the year comes to an end, we were boiling down to the same theme in both of our classes.

The end of the year is home to all the good stuff: parties, Field Day, recognition ceremonies, etc. The fun is endless. For most (all) teachers this also provides a fair amount of leverage. And for most children, it works. But then, you have the student who needs to go outside and run around during field day more than anyone else, and yet they can't seem to make the right choices that will get them there.

And you play the loving teacher card: "I really WANT everyone to get to go to Field Day and have a great time. I don't want you to have to sit inside in the office and do work while everyone else is enjoying such a glorious day. But friend, how many chances can I give you?"

They inevitably stare up at you blankly with the beginning of a tear forming in their eyes because they know they've pushed you too far this time. But then you give them hope, that maybe if they turn things around in the next 3 days, you'll reconsider.

The next morning rolls around and the same kid who you really thought you had gotten through to yesterday is missing the same darn thing that they've been missing every day, the same thing that got them into this mess in the first place.

I guess the truth is that they've made their bed. Why then, do I have such a hard time letting them lie in it?

Teacher Fog

When I first started teaching and I realized how much work teaching truly can be, and how it's a choice how much of life that we commit to it, I realized that this would not be an easy balance to create. I find that this is a struggle that never really goes away; it just takes different shapes and forms depending on the point in life that you find yourself in.

Today, for example, I realized that I have, once again, confused my job/students with actual life. It was an easy downward spiral. My boyfriend got stationed in Italy, I started to have some family issues (that were more easily avoided if I didn't show up to deal with them), and my most immediate friends were busy for several weekends in a row. That said, I just kind of slipped into my teacher pants and never really took them off.

As I've said before, the job of a teacher never ends. There is always another project to create, assessments to finagle, papers to grade, students to counsel, after school activities to participate in, etc, etc, etc. Often times I measure my success as a teacher by how many of these things I am actively engaged in.

The problem is: burnout is not a myth! In order to be the most productive and successful teacher, we need to take a break...for ourselves, and for our students. This, if nothing else, keeps us from getting resentful of the ever-present amount of work that goes into this crazy profession.

Today I went to the mall for a couple of hours. I talked to random sales people and smiled at random passersby and just generally felt like I was part of the human race for a little while. Sometimes a cute shared story among strangers is enough to make us realize that we need to expand our horizons and become a more complete person. Sometimes it would do us well to give ourselves experiences such as this on a regular basis just to wake us up out of our teacher fog.