In this post, I will share with you, my sweet, dedicated, and patient readers, the funny occurrences that made a chaotic week seem less stressful...
I love my 6th hour. I could literally write a book (with several volumes) about my 6th hour from last semester. Someday, I will reflect on what I learned, what I laughed at, and the day I almost bawled my eyes out in front of the kids. Someday. For the record, my 6th hour is much tamer (is that even a word?) this semester. They ask thought-provoking questions, make me laugh, and sometimes even seem eager to learn. While talking about parenting on Thursday (in regards to our current novel), one of the students asked when I would be a parent. Normally I'm able to dodge all slightly-inappropriate-but-also-funny questions, but for some reason, I was tongue-tied. I wanted to say something smart like, "At least not for another 9 months," but I feared the repurcussions should I say something of that nature. Instead, I stuttered and mumbled, "Um, oh, uh, not for awhile. Anyway, as I was saying..." I think my face was red. No, I know my face was red. The lasting effects were minimal. Moving on...
I love my 7th hour. They regularly make me laugh. They are also the epitome of a teenager: either hot or cold. Some days I feel like we're all, as they say, "besties," while other days, I fear we will destroy each other before the day ends. On this particular day, the kiddos were energized (a rarity last week) and ready to learn...or so I thought (so I think every day - I tend to be a glass-half-full kind of person). One of my darling students (we will call him Ronaldo) had just had his corn-rows (that is the correct terminology, right??) taken out. His small body seemed almost dwarfed by what now consumed at least 2 square feet of my classroom. Naturally all the students took it upon themselves to point out his newly-formed afro (um, spell check?). While I began hollering out the bell-work, another student continued to talk over me. This particular student (we will call him Lippy...he tends to mimic his for-the-purpose-of-this-story name) kept trying to get Ronaldo's attention. After I realized that I would not win the "people, look at me, I'm most interesting, duh" battle, I paused what I was saying in an effort to focus the kiddos once more. Lippy proceeded to inform me that there was something stuck in Ronaldo's afro. My first thought was: oh this must stop...we must stay focused...no laughing...make them focus!!! However, in an attempt to be human (like I daily remind my students), I decided to laugh (CTL, right Berger/Peterson clan??). Lippy instructed Ronaldo where to reach in his pony-sized afro to effectively retrieve the foreign object. What happened next still bamboozles me: somehow, the alien object was flicked from the afro (15 feet from me) and landed at my feet. While still laughing but desiring to maintain control of the classroom, I thought it would be prudent (and slightly symbolic) to pick up the gum wrapper (how it was lodged in Ronaldo's afro I still don't want to know) and toss it in the trash. (Prudent because it put an end to the event. Symbolic because well, um, uh, it put an end to the event.) The sweet kids then seemed to harness as much English energy as possible and we proceeded with the remaining activities. Some kids said it was almost as funny as when I accidentally cursed at them last semester...another story for another day.
On Friday at 8 am it was announced that MTV's "Made" is coming to WRHS! A roar of cheers and loads of giggles and whispers exploded in room 167. The rest of the hour (and the rest of the day) was full of comments from me such as, "I know you're so excited. It is so exciting. However, we have work to get done today so you won't have homework over the weekend. Please. Focus." Auditions start next Wednesday. This is probably the closest I will ever be to reality TV (unless, that is, I find a way to take several months off from work to participate in the "Amazing Race" - seriously, who doesn't want to do that!?). Oh the anticipation builds...
January 29, 2011
January 26, 2011
Days Like This
I am an outward processor. It's what I do. Go with me...
Today was just blah. I feel like a failure as a teacher. Can't pinpoint one specific reason why. I just do. I feel like my lessons are all too scattered. I feel like I'm teaching to a test. I feel like I have wonderful reasons why I'm teaching the kids certain things, but I'm apparently not communicating said reasons. I feel like they're bored. I feel like they all hate English...and it's my fault. I feel like I'm not doing a single thing right. I feel like I hear, "You're a wonderful teacher!" from people who have never seen me teach, but I'm not hearing those things from people who have seen me teach.
I know the following:
I just feel beat down. I'm not ready for tomorrow. I don't want to spend my evening planning, but alas, that is what will happen. Blah.
Hmm...how many times did I say "I feel" or "I think" in the above sentences? I don't know even want to know. Must remind myself: it's not about me. Must remember the verse my momma gave me as a 2nd grader: "Strength! Courage! Don't be timid; don't get discouraged. God, your God, is with you every step you take." Joshua 1:9
Final reminder: It's going to be okay.
Today was just blah. I feel like a failure as a teacher. Can't pinpoint one specific reason why. I just do. I feel like my lessons are all too scattered. I feel like I'm teaching to a test. I feel like I have wonderful reasons why I'm teaching the kids certain things, but I'm apparently not communicating said reasons. I feel like they're bored. I feel like they all hate English...and it's my fault. I feel like I'm not doing a single thing right. I feel like I hear, "You're a wonderful teacher!" from people who have never seen me teach, but I'm not hearing those things from people who have seen me teach.
I know the following:
- It's my first year.
- I mess up every day. Everybody does.
- There will always be days like this.
- I am my own worst critic.
I just feel beat down. I'm not ready for tomorrow. I don't want to spend my evening planning, but alas, that is what will happen. Blah.
Hmm...how many times did I say "I feel" or "I think" in the above sentences? I don't know even want to know. Must remind myself: it's not about me. Must remember the verse my momma gave me as a 2nd grader: "Strength! Courage! Don't be timid; don't get discouraged. God, your God, is with you every step you take." Joshua 1:9
Final reminder: It's going to be okay.
January 21, 2011
Friday Funk
Today my sophomores were in the computer lab. One of the babies was working diligently, and he called me over to ask me a question. Naturally, because I am always available to answer any and all questions (hardly..."too many questions!!!" is often my cry at the end of the week, and/or day), I hauled tail over to his computer. Much to my horror, the image on his screen was not a lovely Firefox window filled with EBSCOhost research database information. Unfortunately, it was a picture of me. Fear not, dear mother, it was an appropriate picture (my ID pic the district has on its website). In my sometimes-overdramatic fashion, I began to flip out. I demanded that the picture be changed NOW. When he began to ask me a question about the assignment, I said, "No! Change that picture. Right this second. Don't push it, ___________. You're one step away from it." (Don't ask me what "it" is...just the first thing that popped into my mind. I have many instances such as that - surprised the babies haven't called me on it. Yet.) So he changed the picture and I walked away.
As I walked away from his computer (and the giggling babies surrounding him), I began to think about my reaction. Perhaps it was a little much. But oh dangit, I did not want to apologize. That sweet student has driven me up about a thousand creeks over the course of my short teaching career (for those who have heard the story, it's the "booty shorts" boy), and I was just done with him today.
It made me think about how very human I am but how inhuman I occasionally expect my students (or anyone else for that matter) to be. I tend to get so worked up over little things (anyone who has interacted with me for at least 5 minutes can attest to this) instead of letting them slide off my back. So my mantra for the next week is going to be: Relax. Take a deep breath. It's not that big of a deal.
As for the sweet student...as much as he makes me want to run to Antarctica and never look back or crawl into a bear-cave and pray to be eaten or eat 5 pounds of cookie dough and spend the rest of the day in the bathroom, a small (very very very small) part of me looks forward to every day with him because I know that it's rare to walk away without a good story. And that's what life is, right? A beautiful collections of short stories.
As I walked away from his computer (and the giggling babies surrounding him), I began to think about my reaction. Perhaps it was a little much. But oh dangit, I did not want to apologize. That sweet student has driven me up about a thousand creeks over the course of my short teaching career (for those who have heard the story, it's the "booty shorts" boy), and I was just done with him today.
It made me think about how very human I am but how inhuman I occasionally expect my students (or anyone else for that matter) to be. I tend to get so worked up over little things (anyone who has interacted with me for at least 5 minutes can attest to this) instead of letting them slide off my back. So my mantra for the next week is going to be: Relax. Take a deep breath. It's not that big of a deal.
As for the sweet student...as much as he makes me want to run to Antarctica and never look back or crawl into a bear-cave and pray to be eaten or eat 5 pounds of cookie dough and spend the rest of the day in the bathroom, a small (very very very small) part of me looks forward to every day with him because I know that it's rare to walk away without a good story. And that's what life is, right? A beautiful collections of short stories.
January 20, 2011
On Teaching Life Skills
I want to create learners. I want my students to look at every minute of their lives as opportunities to garner wisdom. Regardless of what their faces say when I'm talking to them, I want their brains to be spinning. With 3 snow days and a holiday in the last 2 weeks, I feel as if we've played a lot of "catch-up" without being able to enjoy the learning process.
As a high school student, I was always the one who completed the task just to get it done. I am so not the example I want my kids to follow. If I could go back, I would ask loads of questions. I wouldn't take my teacher's word for anything. I would be that annoying student who is never satisfied with a simple answer. Last semester, my most difficult hour (like pull my hair out every single day kind of "difficult") asked me what I know now that I wished I had known in high school. (What a great question, huh!? And what a great opportunity!) I told them I would have to think about it. I didn't want to waste such a golden opportunity on whatever first popped into my head. So I thought about it. Then I forgot about it (happens more often than I care to admit). About a week later, they asked again. By then I had formulated an answer that I deemed worthy.
I told them I wished I had gotten out of my comfort zone more. I told them I wished I had tried out for cheerleading, taken an art class, played volleyball one more year, taken AP English my junior year instead of opting for the class I knew I could get an "A" in, actually participated in some of the enrichment activities offered to me... The list goes on and on. Aside from all the "me focused" things, I told them that most importantly, I wish I would have spent time with kids who were not like me. I deeply cherish my high school friends. Always will. I just wish I would have looked at the kid sitting next to me in college algebra and asked her questions that showed I cared.
Every single eye was glued on me when I told them my high school "regrets." And more than that, several of them said, "That's great advice, Mrs. Carlson. I'm going to do that." And they meant it!
It's sad that opportunities like that don't come up every day, but I've certainly learned to take them when they're available. I preach to my kids to live life to the fullest and enjoy every minute. It's a good thing when I take my own advice.
As a high school student, I was always the one who completed the task just to get it done. I am so not the example I want my kids to follow. If I could go back, I would ask loads of questions. I wouldn't take my teacher's word for anything. I would be that annoying student who is never satisfied with a simple answer. Last semester, my most difficult hour (like pull my hair out every single day kind of "difficult") asked me what I know now that I wished I had known in high school. (What a great question, huh!? And what a great opportunity!) I told them I would have to think about it. I didn't want to waste such a golden opportunity on whatever first popped into my head. So I thought about it. Then I forgot about it (happens more often than I care to admit). About a week later, they asked again. By then I had formulated an answer that I deemed worthy.
I told them I wished I had gotten out of my comfort zone more. I told them I wished I had tried out for cheerleading, taken an art class, played volleyball one more year, taken AP English my junior year instead of opting for the class I knew I could get an "A" in, actually participated in some of the enrichment activities offered to me... The list goes on and on. Aside from all the "me focused" things, I told them that most importantly, I wish I would have spent time with kids who were not like me. I deeply cherish my high school friends. Always will. I just wish I would have looked at the kid sitting next to me in college algebra and asked her questions that showed I cared.
Every single eye was glued on me when I told them my high school "regrets." And more than that, several of them said, "That's great advice, Mrs. Carlson. I'm going to do that." And they meant it!
It's sad that opportunities like that don't come up every day, but I've certainly learned to take them when they're available. I preach to my kids to live life to the fullest and enjoy every minute. It's a good thing when I take my own advice.
January 19, 2011
Tough Love?
I'm currently trying to figure out when to be strict and when to be lenient with the babies (my students, of course). I feel like I let them get on my nerves instead of just brushing it off. However, I know there are times when I need to hit the gavel on my podium and call the class to order. Trying to figure out what to tolerate and what to control. I like, no, I LOVE being in control. Always have. When I'm able to calm a rowdy group of 29 sophomores (yes, I have a class that ginormous), I feel a great sense of accomplishment. Likewise, when I'm unable to control a class of 23 freshies, I feel a great sense of failure. I must find the happy medium so as to teach the babies that it's okay to loosen up and it's okay to be in control. Scattered thoughts for a scattered day.
Snow day #3 is tomorrow. I cleaned tonight so tomorrow I can just relax. Sadly, I have no more available episodes of "Keeping up with the Kardashians" to watch...what to do...
Have I mentioned that I have a mouse in my classroom? I do. I've only seen the little devil once, but he leaves evidence of his dwelling on my desk every morning. And I gag. Every time. I just can't wrap my head around the fact that a disgusting little vermin is shacking up beneath my desk.
My sweet BFF returns from Africa tomorrow! No snow day can stop me from seeing her pretty face. Welcome home, Bees, we've certainly missed you.
Snow day #3 is tomorrow. I cleaned tonight so tomorrow I can just relax. Sadly, I have no more available episodes of "Keeping up with the Kardashians" to watch...what to do...
Have I mentioned that I have a mouse in my classroom? I do. I've only seen the little devil once, but he leaves evidence of his dwelling on my desk every morning. And I gag. Every time. I just can't wrap my head around the fact that a disgusting little vermin is shacking up beneath my desk.
My sweet BFF returns from Africa tomorrow! No snow day can stop me from seeing her pretty face. Welcome home, Bees, we've certainly missed you.
January 15, 2011
Saturday Goodness
Today is going to be a lazy day, and I love it. Tonight we're headed to a friend's house for dinner, and I am to bring dessert. I found this recipe: http://thepioneerwoman.com/tasty-kitchen/recipes/desserts/molten-chocolate-cake/ And I'm pretty sure it's going to rock my world. Now if only someone would go to the store for me...
Our apartment is currently a disaster, so I'm sure at some point today, someone will be cleaning it up. Last night as I surveyed the damage of the week, Daniel pointed out to me that we needed to clean. I suggested that we clean together, and he reminded me that 90% of the mess is mine. It's true. We've figured out that I tend to explode when I walk in the house. Don't know why. Always have. Right, mom? I walk in the door, take off my shoes on the conveniently-placed towel to avoid dragging snow through the baby-sized apartment, drop my lunch bag on the counter (unpacked, mind you), drop my "Teach to Reach" bag (my daily school-bag), take off my coat and scarf and fling them wherever I want, and hang up my keys and name badge. I live in fear that some day, I will misplace my name badge, thus making it impossible for anyone to recognize me as a staff member. Therefore, I guard that puppy with my life and, unlike anything else in the apartment, I always know where it is. Strange...
Sometimes I don't understand myself. My classroom (or at least my desk) is nearly always pristine. I would pull my hair out if, in the midst of everything, my home away from home was a disaster. My kitchen is normally clean. It's at least never dirty, but it may be messy sometimes (like right now, gross). However, the rest of our apartment fluctuates. When it starts getting messy, I just let it go until (a) someone is coming over or (b) I can't find a shoe. Then, when the cleaning commences, everything must find a home. I'm notorious for asking Daniel to put away the one thing that is his while I wade in the piles of my own junk. Any psychology majors out there want to contribute to the reason behind the problem? I only majored in psych for a year, so I've exhausted all my potential solutions.
Happy weekend, friends.
Our apartment is currently a disaster, so I'm sure at some point today, someone will be cleaning it up. Last night as I surveyed the damage of the week, Daniel pointed out to me that we needed to clean. I suggested that we clean together, and he reminded me that 90% of the mess is mine. It's true. We've figured out that I tend to explode when I walk in the house. Don't know why. Always have. Right, mom? I walk in the door, take off my shoes on the conveniently-placed towel to avoid dragging snow through the baby-sized apartment, drop my lunch bag on the counter (unpacked, mind you), drop my "Teach to Reach" bag (my daily school-bag), take off my coat and scarf and fling them wherever I want, and hang up my keys and name badge. I live in fear that some day, I will misplace my name badge, thus making it impossible for anyone to recognize me as a staff member. Therefore, I guard that puppy with my life and, unlike anything else in the apartment, I always know where it is. Strange...
Sometimes I don't understand myself. My classroom (or at least my desk) is nearly always pristine. I would pull my hair out if, in the midst of everything, my home away from home was a disaster. My kitchen is normally clean. It's at least never dirty, but it may be messy sometimes (like right now, gross). However, the rest of our apartment fluctuates. When it starts getting messy, I just let it go until (a) someone is coming over or (b) I can't find a shoe. Then, when the cleaning commences, everything must find a home. I'm notorious for asking Daniel to put away the one thing that is his while I wade in the piles of my own junk. Any psychology majors out there want to contribute to the reason behind the problem? I only majored in psych for a year, so I've exhausted all my potential solutions.
Happy weekend, friends.
January 13, 2011
The fight that almost wasn't...
While in my classroom during passing period (shhhh, I'm supposed to be in the hall at that time, but I was doing some last-minute prep work...I'm a first year teacher...enough said), I heard what sounded like the beginning of a riot. A few students in my room said, "Oh dang, you better go break it up." Thus began the most awkward 30 seconds of my...day (again - first year teacher = regular awkward moments).
As I walked outside, I saw the usual group of rowdies at their usual post. However, I also saw more and more babies [students, of course (explanation as to why I call them "babies" to come later)] joining in on the festivities. I looked around hoping to see one of the 7 male teachers in my area. No such luck. I felt as if I had no other choice, so I pulled up my big-girl pants and decided to intervene.
I walked into the riot of babies [but really, there were at least 20 linebacker-sized (isn't that the biggest football position?)] boys huddled around a few in the middle. With as much authority as I could muster, I hollered, "Gentlemen, break it up! Get to class, now!" Instead of invoking fear in the faces of the babies, several just looked at me as if I was an alien (a typical occurrence - I even cut my hair to stop being confused for a student! Ugh.). So I said again, "NOW gentlemen. Get going."
At that point, some sweet baby piped up and said, "But he's rapping!" And it was true. Gulp. Oh dang. Crap. I have failed. I am an alien. I must retreat. Fast. However, the bell was about to ring, so I figured I had time on my side. I reminded them again to get to class, and the riot slowly subsided.
While observing the remainder of the "fight," (with arms crossed, of course), a male teacher from the area arrived on the scene (why, oh why just now?!). He said, "Was something going on here or were they just being loud?" Dangit. He caught me. Not wanting to feel entirely stupid, I responded, "Oh they were just being loud and they needed to get to class." Totally convincing.
I returned to my classroom feeling entirely ridiculous and wishing I had responded in a different way. Oh well. Teaching is funny. Babies (students) are funny. They should be given more credit. They regularly knock my socks off and make me (in their lingo) ROTFL (roll on the floor laughing, of course). Love it.
As I walked outside, I saw the usual group of rowdies at their usual post. However, I also saw more and more babies [students, of course (explanation as to why I call them "babies" to come later)] joining in on the festivities. I looked around hoping to see one of the 7 male teachers in my area. No such luck. I felt as if I had no other choice, so I pulled up my big-girl pants and decided to intervene.
I walked into the riot of babies [but really, there were at least 20 linebacker-sized (isn't that the biggest football position?)] boys huddled around a few in the middle. With as much authority as I could muster, I hollered, "Gentlemen, break it up! Get to class, now!" Instead of invoking fear in the faces of the babies, several just looked at me as if I was an alien (a typical occurrence - I even cut my hair to stop being confused for a student! Ugh.). So I said again, "NOW gentlemen. Get going."
At that point, some sweet baby piped up and said, "But he's rapping!" And it was true. Gulp. Oh dang. Crap. I have failed. I am an alien. I must retreat. Fast. However, the bell was about to ring, so I figured I had time on my side. I reminded them again to get to class, and the riot slowly subsided.
While observing the remainder of the "fight," (with arms crossed, of course), a male teacher from the area arrived on the scene (why, oh why just now?!). He said, "Was something going on here or were they just being loud?" Dangit. He caught me. Not wanting to feel entirely stupid, I responded, "Oh they were just being loud and they needed to get to class." Totally convincing.
I returned to my classroom feeling entirely ridiculous and wishing I had responded in a different way. Oh well. Teaching is funny. Babies (students) are funny. They should be given more credit. They regularly knock my socks off and make me (in their lingo) ROTFL (roll on the floor laughing, of course). Love it.
January 12, 2011
bits of my mind
Today was the first day back after 2 glorious snow days. To reflect the discombobulation of the week, here are some random thoughts...
The students are turning orange. Literally. To some of them, I want to say, "Sweeties, stop that dang tanning. Now."
I have been told by 2 students that I need to work on my sense of humor. Not sure if I should be offended or flattered - my sense of humor is obviously leagues above that of an adolescent...
Daniel just said he liked tonight's meal. We had salad. I asked for that statement in writing. He will not grant my request.
My newest favorite show is "Brothers & Sisters." I literally tear up every time we watch an episode. So good.
Sweet moment of the day: I had to write a referral, and as I was explaining the reason to the student, she became visibly (but not dramatically) upset. We were able to chat about it, and I was able to offer her some grace and minimize the punishment. Instances such as that are difficult and wonderful for me. I love showing grace to the students, but I don't want to be a pushover. However, knowing what I know about this sweet girl, it was a beautiful moment of repentance on her behalf and grace-offering on mine. Love love love being Jesus to those kiddos. Some days I do okay while other days I go home knowing that I was not an example of Christ. Oh to be in the minds of my kiddos on both types of days...
Need a good book suggestion. I know, I'm an English teacher and I should have a million books at my disposal. I do, but sometimes I just need to be pointed in a certain direction. Ideas??
The students are turning orange. Literally. To some of them, I want to say, "Sweeties, stop that dang tanning. Now."
I have been told by 2 students that I need to work on my sense of humor. Not sure if I should be offended or flattered - my sense of humor is obviously leagues above that of an adolescent...
Daniel just said he liked tonight's meal. We had salad. I asked for that statement in writing. He will not grant my request.
My newest favorite show is "Brothers & Sisters." I literally tear up every time we watch an episode. So good.
Sweet moment of the day: I had to write a referral, and as I was explaining the reason to the student, she became visibly (but not dramatically) upset. We were able to chat about it, and I was able to offer her some grace and minimize the punishment. Instances such as that are difficult and wonderful for me. I love showing grace to the students, but I don't want to be a pushover. However, knowing what I know about this sweet girl, it was a beautiful moment of repentance on her behalf and grace-offering on mine. Love love love being Jesus to those kiddos. Some days I do okay while other days I go home knowing that I was not an example of Christ. Oh to be in the minds of my kiddos on both types of days...
Need a good book suggestion. I know, I'm an English teacher and I should have a million books at my disposal. I do, but sometimes I just need to be pointed in a certain direction. Ideas??
January 11, 2011
Snow Day #2
Yesterday was snow day #1. What a glorious day. Here's how the day panned out...
Also, a big happy birthday to my sweet ex-roommate Jes! Love you!
- 5:20 am. Alarm annoying rings. Snooze is promptly hit.
- 5:30 am. Alarm rings again. Check WIBW online on space phone to see if school is canceled and I accidentally didn't receive the text. To no avail. Must shower.
- 5:45 am. Turn on coffee. Turn on computer to check WIBW.
- 5:46 am. Beautiful sound of a text message. Snow day!!
- 5:47 am. Run to bedroom. Whisper (loudly), "Snow day!"
- 5:48 am-6:30 am. Try to fall asleep. No luck.
- 6:30 am. Arise. Netflix saves the day. "Say Yes to the Dress" and "Keeping up with the Kardashians" occupy my time for too long...
- 8:00 am. Awaken husband (he took a snow day too, yipee!).
- 8:01-9:30 am. Bfast. "Brothers & Sisters."
- 9:30 am. Dress for the bitter kalt. Headed out to play with the nephew.
- 9:31 am-noon. Play, chat, hot chocolate, snow pics, stamping wedding thank yous, etc. etc.
- Noon. Disaster lunch. Tortillini carbonara. Too runny, too many flavors, too awkward. NOT a repeat.
- Afternoon. Clean bathroom, laundry, dust bedroom, address Christmas cards (still coming, patience please!), "Brothers & Sisters."
- Evening. Monday night dinner with the Thiessens, "The Bachelor," finding out school is canceled again, etc. etc.
Also, a big happy birthday to my sweet ex-roommate Jes! Love you!
January 9, 2011
Revelation of the Day
When I talk to my teacher friends, we often share ideas for lesson plans, projects, essays, etc. After sharing said ideas, our typical responses are, "That's cool!" or "That sounds fun!" or "What an awesome idea!" As I've been planning my current units (Picture Bride for my sophomores and To Kill a Mockingbird for my freshmen), I'm realizing that what educators think is "cool," "fun," or "awesome" does not mean the same thing to the kiddos. Hmm...
Kids love school because of the social aspect. How can I accommodate their need to be socialized while also teaching them what they need to be taught? How can I reconcile my definitions of "cool," "fun," and "awesome" to their definitions of the same words? How can my teaching be relevant, refreshing, and enlightening while also being applicable to the standards?
Oh Sunday afternoons, how I loathe and love you...
Kids love school because of the social aspect. How can I accommodate their need to be socialized while also teaching them what they need to be taught? How can I reconcile my definitions of "cool," "fun," and "awesome" to their definitions of the same words? How can my teaching be relevant, refreshing, and enlightening while also being applicable to the standards?
Oh Sunday afternoons, how I loathe and love you...
January 8, 2011
I feel old.
Last night, Daniel and I stole away for a night on the town (AKA: a Washburn Rural High School home basketball game). As soon as we entered the packed gym, I knew we would have a difficult time finding a seat. I glanced quickly through the stands and found a student of mine. He made eye contact with me, but immediately looked away. I thought that if I could just catch his eye, I could ask him if the seats in front of him were saved. To no avail. He refused to look my way. Strange. I thought I had a good relationship with him.
Anywho...so I walked to where he was sitting and asked if the seats were saved. He didn't really say anything, but he moved his coat. I motioned to Daniel to join me, and he did so promptly. I turned to my student and asked (in my very cool, outside-of-school voice), "Hey, how's it goin'?" That's right. I left the "g" off of "goin'" to seem like one of them. Instead of making eye contact with his beloved English teacher and continuing on a lovely conversation, he avoided eye contact at all costs and muttered, "Good." Lame. I didn't fight it. For the first time in my life, I was the uncool "older person" who the "cool" teenager refused to engage in conversation.
Oh time, it flies fast.
Anywho...so I walked to where he was sitting and asked if the seats were saved. He didn't really say anything, but he moved his coat. I motioned to Daniel to join me, and he did so promptly. I turned to my student and asked (in my very cool, outside-of-school voice), "Hey, how's it goin'?" That's right. I left the "g" off of "goin'" to seem like one of them. Instead of making eye contact with his beloved English teacher and continuing on a lovely conversation, he avoided eye contact at all costs and muttered, "Good." Lame. I didn't fight it. For the first time in my life, I was the uncool "older person" who the "cool" teenager refused to engage in conversation.
Oh time, it flies fast.
January 7, 2011
Friday Funnies
While making copies at an inhumane hour this morning, a woman walked into the teacher's lounge and complimented my hair (sweet lady). However, what happened next disturbed my bubble in a way that has never been done. The sweet, stranger-danger lady proceeded to touch my hair and asked how I style it. I think I flinched, but SSD woman did not pick up on the hint. It was brief, but I felt somewhat violated.
It made me wonder about my obsession with touching people while I talk to them. I must do it. All the time. Maybe it makes me closer to them. Or maybe it makes me feel like they really want to hear what I have to say... Perhaps I should stop this. Perhaps this makes people feel uncomfortable. I'll put some more thought to it.
Wish for the weekend: a snow day on Monday... Please. Oh to have a day to sleep in, drink coffee, and read FOR PLEASURE.
It made me wonder about my obsession with touching people while I talk to them. I must do it. All the time. Maybe it makes me closer to them. Or maybe it makes me feel like they really want to hear what I have to say... Perhaps I should stop this. Perhaps this makes people feel uncomfortable. I'll put some more thought to it.
Wish for the weekend: a snow day on Monday... Please. Oh to have a day to sleep in, drink coffee, and read FOR PLEASURE.
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