Archive for the ‘schools’ Category

No Fingerprints for Me


An amazing thing happened today.

I was given a “Get Out of Jail Free” card.  By my district.

This is a win-win-win.  It really is!

The District gets rid of an expensive older teacher who absolutely refuses to drink the Kool Aid and simply follow the nice shiny boxed kit.  They relieve themselves of the frustration of having to deal with an unhappy teacher who keeps pointing out that the Emperor is buck naked.

The Principal gets to stop living in fear of one crabby old lady.  He gets to carry on his campaign to insure that our school is staffed with the very youngest and least experienced candidates possible.  He gets rid of the thorn in his side that just won’t go stop sticking him.

And me?

I get to let go of the anger, the frustration, the fear.  I get to walk away from a place that gave me intense joy and a sense of accomplishment for 18 years, but now gives me only a sense  of sorrow and failure.

I get to give up the rubrics, the testing, the formative and summative assessments. I get to stop trying to choke down the Kool Aid.

I get my pension, far far less than what I’d once hoped for.  I get my sense of peace back. My sense of myself. My ability to once again love my days.

I get September days.  The beach when it is quiet.

I get peace at last.

And what is lost, in this oh-so-common maneuver where the old educators are pushed and prodded aside?

Well.  My District loses me.  And that is a lot.  They lose a smart, eager, dedicated, loving and very skilled teacher.

My school loses five years of classes that know how to work together. Five years of kids who can cooperate and share and show respect.

They lose the love and the laughter that fills my little room.  My school loses at least five years of having one strong teacher who can handle and support and encourage those angry/defiant/anxious kids who need a special hand.  My school loses me.

And me?

I lose the love of 125 kids who I will never know. I lose the chance to teach about the American Revolution.  I lose the laughter, the hugs, the smiles in the morning. I lose the birthday cards, “To an awesome teacher!” and the little gifts and the sweet emails that tell me “You were funny in math today.”

I lose Read Aloud.  And morning meeting.

I lose my identify as a teacher.

I lose the sense of worth that I got when I rode on the bus to a field trip, and the parents were awed by my gentle control of the crowd.

I lose years of learning and growing and improving my craft. I lose professional development.

I lose.

But the time has clearly come.

I can’t stay, and they can’t keep me.

I move toward my retirement from teaching with a sense of hope and relief.

Let the next adventure begin.

This Old Teacher


Sometimes it gets a little bit tiring to be an old teacher. Sometimes you look at the pile of math papers, the writers’ notebooks, the science journals, the 57 emails, the field trip forms, the Puberty Movie letters and the Lost and Found socks, and you just want to give it all up and go sit on a beach in a muumuu.

Sometimes it just seems so futile. And relentless. And so incredibly frustrating. You think you’re done.  You can’t go on.

But sometimes you get to work, and you see your colleagues.  And you look at how much energy they still have. You see the one who is really excited by a new art project, and you remember when you used to feel that way. You see the one who is carefully planning an amazing science lesson, and you feel a little buzz of excitement.

Sometimes you get to school, and you peek into the classroom next door, where the colleague-who-is-younger-than-your-children is getting ready for her day.  And you look at her for a minute.  You see her bright spirit, her love of learning, her crackling joyful energy.

And you feel a little bit renewed.

Sometimes, just when you feel like all of this hard work is a big farce and nothing much is going to change for anyone, you spend a few minutes listening to your young team-mates as they plan the next writing unit.  And you smile inside, thinking of what a huge difference these two will make in the lives of dozens and dozens of kids in the future. And you give yourself a tiny little hug, way down in your heart, because you know that you are watching two teachers, two honest-to-God teachers, as they spin the silken spider web threads that will weave themselves into a love of learning for the little ones in these classrooms.  And you’re happy just to be there, watching. And you remind yourself of all the faces and names and hearts that you have touched over all these years.

And you realize that it doesn’t really matter which curriculum is used in which year. It really doesn’t matter if you teach the 6 + 1 traits or the Lucy Calkins kit or the “Write Out Loud” book.  As long as you love the kids, and share your joy and passion with them, as long as you keep telling them that you believe in them, they WILL learn to write.  And read. And calculate those damn fractions.

And you understand that the art of teaching is just that: it is an art.  Just like children, it cannot be measured or quantified or reduced to a data point. Teaching is an art.

And you are pleased with yourself, because you understand that fact.

Even if those in positions of power don’t.

Teaching is an art.  And you suddenly realize how lucky you are to be one of the artists, and to be in the presence of the artists who will both follow and surpass you.

 

Oh, fifth graders, how I love you!


The best part of teaching fifth grade is the fact that I am continually surprised when the kids act like fifth graders.

I always think, in my silly adult way, that if I simply explain things better, they will grasp them in a more mature way.

Clearly, I don’t learn as well as my students do!

Our fifth graders study the Colonial American period, and then go on to learn about the American Revolution. As part of this unit of study, they are assigned to work with a partner, researching one of the original thirteen colonies. I’ve been having children do this project for eight straight years.  We used to have them look in actual books and put their information on that old fashioned material known as “poster board”.  Back in those early days, the children used to include information like “there are lots of bees in Georgia!” and “New Hampshire colony had lots of places to hike”. They didn’t seem to understand that we were asking a few (very few) key questions about the colonies.  Questions like, “Where did the original settlers come from?” and “What did they produce and trade in the colony?”

As the years have gone by, I have gradually refined my structure around the colony research project. I have been more direct and more explicit about the information required.  I have been very, very clear about what NOT to include (cartoons, silly jokes, Taylor Swift references, etc).  We gradually moved the projects into PowerPoint Presentations, and worked very hard to teach the children, even more explicitly, about how to write like historians. We taught about “primary sources” one year.

That was the year that one of the kids put in the image of an original 1932 postcard from South Carolina.

So we began to be even more direct and explicit. We showed the kids actual examples of what NOT to include in a history presentation (like said postcard).

That year we got one slide that was devoted entirely to the Virginia pig war (?) complete with adorable cartoon pig.

We gave them a rubric. We showed them other presentations, made by students and made by actual historians. This year I decided to give away the conclusions that we want them to draw.  I compared the three colonial regions on the smartboard. I talked about trade, and we acted out the “Triangle of Trade” by marching around the classroom and handing each other cards marked “iron”, “rum” and “slaves”. We looked at maps of the thirteen colonies and compared them to climate maps.  We used Google Earth, for God’s sake, in the fervent hope that after all this careful leading by the nose, the kids would actually create simple slideshows with key information about each Colony.

We have moved to Google Drive now, and the presentations are made with Google Slides, and are shared with me so that I can check on progress.

Even when I’m home sick.

Like a was today.

I reviewed the Google Slides Presentations which are due in two days (after three weeks of carefully guided study).

Holy Fifth Grade Sensibilities.

Even though we did an entire half hour lesson on “scholarly language”, one slide included an indecipherable map of Colonial Delaware, complete with the caption, “Trust me, Delaware’s in there somewhere!”

In spite of an entire two lessons about the concept of economy and trade, one presentation included a slide labelled, “Government of South Carolina” and pictures of sugar (in a modern paper package), rice (in a Carolina Rice bag) and “indigo” ( a picture of a purple iris).

One group included little side notes like, “Oh, yeah!” and “You know it!” in their slideshow.  One group included a photo of white farm laborers from around 1900 in a slide labelled, “how the slaves dressed”.

I should probably be horrified, and I should probably make everyone go back and make it better, especially since there is a “rubric”. But I’m not going to.

I’m going to laugh in private, and guide them when they present their work in public. I’m going to make them feel like historians and hope that they learn just how exciting it can be to learn from the past.

Most of all, I’m going to let them keep on thinking like fifth graders.

At least for a little while longer.

%d bloggers like this: