writing conventions are important!

They may be small, but apostrophes, semicolons, and especially commas really do matter. So there.

This school year is coming to a close. Next week we're only in session three days, the following week four days, and that's all she wrote. Though I have a few weeks of course work to follow that before I get my pretty letters to stick after my name, it's safe to say the end is in sight. So, in the interest of adhering to the central theme of this Master of Arts in Teaching program (reflection, reflection, reflection), I thought I'd ponder the enduring understandings about the profession of teaching that I've gleaned this year.

Inside the classroom, my biggest focus is on classroom management, with general organization being a close second. I've found that when I'm on a roll with the kids and they're responding well to my instructions, amazingly we get a lot more learning in! When I came to the first grade right after spring break, on the heels of almost six months with sixth graders, it took me a while to get into the rhythm. Obviously, with such a large age gap, a lot of management techniques have to be different. Some things are the same, whether the students are first graders (or, I'm sure, preschoolers) or graduate students. We like to chat with our friends. What we're talking about and how we carry ourselves while doing it may look different at different ages, but a good teacher/ professor/ workshop leader acknowledges this and works with it instead of against it, using age- and setting-appropriate ways to pull every one's attention back to the task at hand.

In the beginning of the term I spent a lot of time (which felt like wasted time, though it had its educational merit for me and for the kids) just getting it quiet enough that I could move on to the next part of the lesson. Some days it was excruciating. Even while teaching my work sample, which overlapped with my full time takeover of the classroom for the student teaching requirements, I never had a whole day of attentiveness. I'm not expecting perfect silence, or everyone sitting in rows with hands folded and backs straight. It would be weird if six year olds never squirmed or giggled or picked their noses when the teacher's talking. Of course they will get off task. But I know that when I have developed enough gravitas and authority it will go more smoothly.

After a week of ups and downs, Friday was an especially up day. Previous days had included some especially squirelly behavior. This included a lot of running and sliding in the classroom, nasty words exchanged, tattling, and general jokey noisiness during instruction. There were some moments of successful first grade work, but I was so tired after each day.

Then we got to Friday. Sullen Malevolent Boy and Hyper Hateful boy were both absent. That left only Manic Rude Girl to stir the pot. The day was like a dream. They were still wiggly and excited because it was the Friday before a four day weekend, followed by only a few days remaining in the school year. We had practice for the class play. We made costumes. We watched the movie Babe to wrap up our big unit (actually from the amazing math curriculum!) on farms. We had a bike parade to wrap up our school's two-week Bike to School extravaganza. We even got to have our long awaited cups of ice cream to celebrate some good behavior points earned long long ago (which I noticed even the Jehovah's Witnesses accepted!). My mentor had to do one more formal observation of my teaching, so I led the math lesson of the day, and it went beautifully. Every last one of them was engaged, they were excited about finding as many different methods as possible to solve the "how many legs on three cows" story problems. A few of them spontaneously worked in pairs (actually worked, not just got together to avoid) and came up with creative and accurate answers. Then they all finished up more than we'd expected in the time allowed and sat on the rug reading. It was awesome. It was only later that I connected the aforementioned absences with the awesomeness that was my lesson, but I'll take what I can get. It was so nice to leave school for the long weekend with a sense of a job well done instead of wearily feeling like I need this break just to survive the rest of the year! Despite the providence of those absent fellows, I am feeling significantly more able and skilled when it comes to directing the kids and maintaining (or quickly regaining) appropriate order. I was thoroughly charmed all day long by the sweetness and enthusiasm and just general cuteness of these children. I felt like I'd finally gotten to the level of proficiency I'd reached around February with the sixth graders. Thank goodness!

Now, on to my four day weekend. Lots of sleeping in and hanging out with my own kids!

The end is in sight.

Nine weeks to go and I'll have three fancy new letters after my name. The spring term is winding down; after one more weekend of probably sixteen hour days, my spring work sample will be done and turned in. Then we proceed to finish up with one action packed summer term. Then it's all over except for the worrying about finding a job in this economy. Substitute teaching never looked so good.

Last night we presented our portfolios to faculty (what I think of as a baby-version of a defense of dissertation for master's degree students). These huge binders exhibited work from the whole year so far, with a long and detailed list of specific accomplishments and professional traits to exhibit. The presentations went well, and I was really proud of my cohort. I would be happy for my own daughters to be in any one of their classes: they'll all make great teachers. We all will. I can't wait for my first for-real classroom.

Spring (and change) is finally in the air!

Despite the slow pace of economic recovery and the stressful tedium of the waiting game, I'm feeling optimistic. Cautious, but optimistic. My husband and I have firmly decided we're not leaving our quaint little town to search for jobs. I'd been sending out resumes all around our region (the whole state of Oregon, some of Washington, Idaho, and California) just to see what would surface for a first year teacher like me. So now, even though the only local leads are outside my authorization areas (like special ed or high school math), I feel OK about the wait and see. First of all, something great could still open up between now and September. If it doesn't, plan B (substitute teaching) is OK and would have some up sides. Yes, I'd need to scramble to fill in the economic gaps if I don't get enough work as a sub. But I'd have more time with my youngest daughter who'll be only 3 during this upcoming school year. We also have a little bit of an interest in a piece of real estate down the road that would be an amazing and thoroughly positive addition to our lives. If we get it, there would be projects going on and it would be helpful to be home a bit next year to work on them. I must not say more, lest I jinx the whole thing. More on this later if it pans out. Probably most importantly, if I'm not hired into my very own classroom, I'll be needing to get creative and be open to new possibilities, both as a part of meeting my family's financial needs and as a part of pursuing my budding career as an educator. If I don't yet have my very own most perfect and permanent classroom, maybe I can teach something after school. Maybe parents would like their children to have art classes or experiment with science inquiries once a week. I may be continuing my education with additional graduate courses to add on an endorsement. Though I'm no fan of the uncertainty, at least I'm open to the creative possibilities. Maybe I'll be subbing occasionally and pumping gas (an actual job here in Oregon, though of course not well paid). Who knows? All I know is that right now I know we're staying here in Cute Small Town and something great will eventually happen.

Signs of Spring: green beans and job worries

The first graders planted green beans, and it worked! Here they are on my desk in front of the big window. My, my, that window looks so clean, it's like my desk is outside! In the road! Actually, that's just the blacktop- the playground is just out of view. Kids pass this window going to recess from the cafeteria, and we get a constant stream of interested little faces checking out the progress of these great plants. A few seem not to have sprouted, but then good sir Eric Carle warned us that not all seeds sprout. It'll be OK.

Judging from the consistent Zero next to where it says comments on here, I'm pretty sure it's safe for me to say just about anything I want to and no one will ever be the wiser. I mean, wow, what freedom! I really am just talking to myself.

So, the truth: I'm terrified every day. I think I've burdened my family with a huge ol' load of student loan debt and will never be able to get a job in this economy. I'll be lucky to get anything resembling regular work as a substitute, and even that online Connections Academy isn't hiring anyone for elementary positions in my region. A lot of teachers say they got hired in August. I fear, though, that letting myself think "oh, August. So this is fine. This is normal. I'll totally get hired right after summer school." will be setting myself up for major disappointment and stress.

What used to look like a not-so-good-but-it'll-do Plan B is now what I'll be lucky if I can pull off. It consists of subbing (a little) next year and taking more classes so when something finally does open up I'll be a little closer to an extra endorsement (probably reading). It all just feels so sad. I just want my own shiny room with my little charges all ready for the learnin'. My calendar time. My book clubs. My dodge ball games. My counting by 2s and spelling quizzes.

For now, though, I have green beans. I'll be living in the moment now.

How about some more days in the school year?

I just read a couple of interesting posts at In Practice about the merits of an extended school year. His general premise is that if that would just mean more of the same for students, it wouldn't be at all beneficial. However, if more hours and days to work with could mean more time dedicated to sports, more arts, more science and social studies (all at the elementary level- secondary schools have a different situation), then he's all for it. I'd have to say I agree. I think having some nice contiguous weeks off, especially when the weather's nice, is still great, but a calendar that is more toward a year-round school with slightly fewer days off overall would offer some wonderful opportunities. Imagine:
... organized athletics (at the elementary level): team sports and/ or PE classes
... visual arts twice a week instead of maybe once a month
... weekly performing arts (musical theater, dance, orchestra, etc.). I was an art major, so naturally I support these. Realistically, I think increased participation in the arts is measurably, academically beneficial to kids. Plus it's fun, which increases the good associations with school that contribute to a good attitude about everything else at school.
... a school garden! This one is especially appealing to me. I live in a cold, high desert area and I love to grow food. Our growing season is very short: I can't put much in the ground before the first of June, and by the end of September it's about all over. While this means I could spend my own summer vacation tending my home garden, a lot of kids will never have that opportunity. If school were in session during the growing season it would make sense to include some biology lessons around growing food (not to mention the social studies involved). As it is, it's pretty much a snow covered world for most of the school year around here. Imagine the Inner City Elementary booth at the Farmers' Market every week during the summer! Fresh tomatoes and peppers!!!

This won't happen any time soon. All across my state, and especially here in my county, districts have had to cut days off of this school year in order to save money. Maybe five or ten years from now there will be a little more cushion in the budgets and some of this could be introduced. As a small step, just having a couple of extra weeks in the year could mean significantly more hours across the year of organized athletics, arts, and sciences.

And a big sigh of relief marks the vernal equinox

A few key points. The winter term has finished. I completed a 175 page work sample (sort of part 1 of my master's thesis- part 2 to follow in the spring term). I accomplished my research project on assisting students spiffy up their organizational skills, complete with cool graphs and charts. I finished the student teaching with the sixth graders, and only teared up that one time. I accomplished all nineteen credits, from Implications of Poverty to Human Relations to Special Methods in Science and Math to the aforementioned Action Research.

And here's the kicker: I still want to be a teacher! The winter term was full of twelve hour days, including many weekends when I had to leave the house to get work done. It was full of unwashed dishes and laundry. It was full of thirty distracted minutes a day with my kids. It was full of my husband getting really annoyed with me for being so busy and distracted and not asking for help enough! And then my car broke down! I certainly don't want to relive anything like the past three months, but I sure do still want to be a teacher.

So spring break is here. The weather is nice, sunny-snowy-sunny. I've been spending all day every day with my beautiful daughters. We made banana bread. We started digging our garden (a good faith move on my part, seeing as how we may end up needing to move away for work and I don't want to and maybe if I'm invested in the veggie garden that will somehow mean a school here will magically hire me). We walked to the library. In an hour or so we're going to visit my parents for a couple of days. In short, aaaahhhhhhh. Sure, I'm bringing the laptop along, so I can do some revisions on papers for my faculty adviser and streamline the social studies unit I'll teach in the spring. But I'll be doing it sitting in the sun by the creek on my parents' farm while the girls run around with the dogs!

Spring term will be a most welcome change, as predicted by faculty back in the summer when we first started this adventure. Student teaching for the whole school day (only a little more than I was already there, since the schedule ended up being about 2/3 of the day during the winter) and one class. One! And as much as I don't want to move away from my little town, my little hometown, my kids' only home, I am going to Portland in two weeks for a job fair (wow, we art majors never got anything like that!). I'll get to see old friends, and I'll get to give the whole applications to other towns' schools thing a shot. If we have to relocate, we're prepared for that (although packing up this house will be nuts). But I'm hoping that veggie garden does the trick.

Feeling the love...

Yesterday was an absolute high point in the term. Most of my course work is done now for winter quarter, with only a couple of finishing touches left, so I'm completely focused on this great group of kids I've been working with, and who I'll be with only another week.

These sixth graders will spend a week in May at an outdoor school on the coast, which is of course a very big deal to them! No one with disciplinary problems or any Fs on their report cards can go, though, so a lot of attention has been paid to grades lately. I've been fielding hourly questions about their grades, working through lunches with our "math club" to get those kids boosted to a passing level, and generally been completely consumed with this room full of personalities.

My cooperating teacher, who's been out for a number of weeks recovering from a car accident, had arranged to swing by yesterday so we could sign a few papers and so she could see the kids for a bit. So I wasn't surprised when she showed up, but when she began instructing the class to stand and read clearly as they took turns sharing the cards they'd made, I was confused. What was she talking about? I'm with the class for about two thirds of every day, and I knew nothing. They sent me to sit on a desk at the front of the room, and one by one all twenty six students and my teacher read thank-you cards they'd made for me! The kids shared their favorite projects that we'd done together and said kids would really want to be in my class and that I'll make a good teacher! One sweetie sitting up front passed me a box of tissues, which was a good thing because I was a teary mess from the get go. I don't know how to describe how touching it was. A mother who volunteers with us every week gave me a quilted flag she'd sewn, with each student's name stitched onto the stripes, and the substitute teacher we've had for the past six weeks gave me a book on developing reading programs. Then my teacher gave me a beautiful big basket with instructions to put any especially great work from students, or letters from parents, or nice cards from kids into the basket over the years. This will be more than a memento stash: it will be a source of inspiration and comfort I can draw upon whenever the going gets tough. It now has a beautiful pile of colorful, handmade cards to remind me of the powerful experience this year has been.

I really love this class, and though I'm looking forward to working with the first graders when we get back from spring break, I'm going to miss these guys! They've taught me far more than I ever expected.

The Big Words, They Keep On Coming

My friends ask me if I have to study this weekend, and although I say "(sigh)yes", the truth is it's all writing now, not really studying per se. I've been thinking about so many different issues related to both education in general and the specific issues of my local area in particular that my head is spinning. Now I'm just trying to write it all up for the completion of the current term.

On my mind, put down here in the hopes I can clear my head enough to finish this week's workload, in no particular order:

Poverty and its impact on kids' educations: poor kids have always had the deck stacked against them, and nowadays more and more of our children are living below the poverty line. In my county, 25% of children under the age of 18 lived below the poverty line in 2007. Since the current recession pretty much started that year and things have only gotten worse, I'd say we're approaching some pretty catastrophic levels of poverty in our schools. The vast majority of public schools in our two local districts qualify for Title I funds. The difficulties faced by these children when they arrive at school are significant. I'm still working on wrapping my head around effective interventions; I've only just begun to identify the symptoms most commonly seen in poor populations. Not that I'm unfamiliar with poverty; understanding it through common sense and being able to objectively identify symptoms and their causes are different skills of observation.

And speaking of the economy, the other main thing on my mind is the job market, specifically for teachers. With state budget shortfalls, most if not all districts in Oregon are cutting school days this year to save money, which is disruptive and stressful to teachers, even though there aren't really any alternatives that I know of. In my town, two elementary schools are closing in June. With less money in the system, I imagine that larger class sizes at the remaining schools will be seen as a sensible response. This means fewer teachers needed, which means a brand new, fresh out of school teacher has a fairly low chance around here of finding any kind of first year position, let alone anything that might be preferred or best suited to the teacher's skills and talents. I really don't want to move away. We're raising a family here, we've put down roots, we're finally starting to work on fixing up our own property (after renovating the rentals over the years to a pretty spiffy state). How can I think about painting my kitchen when I know I have to go to Portland for the big educators' job fair next month and be prepared to jump at any job offers that may come along? I would so much rather stay here and be a part of my own community's future. Maybe substitute teaching won't be too bad. Maybe I can even make it great!

winter quarter prose poetry

Just like its season, the winter quarter of the academic year stretches long and cold, a bleak foreshadowing of years of toil to come.

It is said that this will pass. Yet it will certainly come again. Same time next year. Same cold car in the mornings. Same stuffy noses. Same. Same. Same.

My frozen toes groan the melancholy of my never ending nineteen graduate credits.

Oh woe.