Saturday, August 27, 2011

School Shock

The thing that always amazes me is the amount of adjustment it takes to get back into the swing of things. I can spend hours upon hours of time in my classroom and at home getting things ready for the BIG DAY...and still not feel like I'm ready. That first week back we had those supposed, "teacher work days"--which were always filled with meetings. I never got a solid three hours of time to work unless it was on my own time. That's a shame.

On Monday, they came...ready or not. Once I saw their smiling faces, I was once again in my element. They all come in excited and scared and with tummies full of giant sized butterflies. They found their desks and put away their things. I always forget how much training I have to do to teach the kids to be independent. It takes a long time!! There are so many routines to show them and questions they all have. My voice isn't used to it, and by the end of the day I feel hoarse.

I also forget how many decisions we make in a day--little things, but none the less, it requires thought. My brain is tired. After what seems like a whole day of activities that we do, I glance at the clock--and it's only been two hours!! I already feel tired. The kids are all asking if it's lunch time yet, it isn't. I do what every teacher in my building does--when the going gets tough, go out for a recess!! We need the break as much as the kids do. Our school "rigor" does not allow for this all year long--only the first week of school. So next week, it's cold turkey--no extra recess.

We do lots of getting to know you things as we learn to function as a class. I have 29 kids this year. Way more than I've had in quite a few years. The desks and chairs seem packed in and there's not enough room to sit on the floor in a big circle when we do our calendar. When we walk down the hall, it seems like our line is never ending. I have a big group, but I know I will have a hard time parting with any of them IF we ever do get another teacher. I like them all already. I'm their teacher.

I forget how funny and cute the kids are. One boy was filling out a paper that asked the date he was born. He came up and told me he didn't know this. I told, "Tony, you just told me when your birthday was," He said, "Yes, I know my birthday but not when I was BORN." His little light bulb went on when I told him his birthday WAS when he was born! He scooted off with a satisfied look on his face. It never gets old helping kids make connections! This will be one of many chuckles I will get throughout the year.

We had a four day week of regular class and then on Friday was a testing day. I scheduled 12 kids to come in to do a reading test on that day. I ended up doing 15--more than I ever have in one day before! I am excited that I have a large number of good readers. I am just concerned about being able to meet with reading groups with this many kids. We have one more day of testing on Monday. This testing seems more grueling than a regular day of teaching.

I have to get used to grading papers and doing planning. I have been staying late at school after the kids have left to get things done. I will again get the "Sunday blues." That's because it's when I grade papers. I'm like the students...I have to build up my school stamina. It will take time, and we have a whole year to build it.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Who Needs Sleep?

Thousands of us teachers started back to work yesterday, I was one among them. I entered into my classroom, with some dread. Where had the summer gone? It seemed like yesterday when I was scrambling to get it packed up for the summer. The summer is just a memory....but not yet faded. I long to jump on my bike to cruise down the South Platte trail or sit on my patio reading a great book.

Some people think teachers have it made because we have the summers off. I will admit that it s a perk to have that time off. However, I don't know how long I could have lasted as a teacher if I didn't have that long break to disconnect and re-energize. I learned to immerse myself in my play, as I do with my teaching in the Fall. Working with kids takes a great deal of energy--both physical and mental. That stamina has to be built up--just like we do with the kids.


So, after a picture for my new staff badge, and a group shot with the whole staff out in front of the school--we were released for our designated "teacher work day." It wasn't twenty minutes later, that all K-3 teachers were required to go into the library for a training or re-training on one of our assessments. I sat there thinking about all I had to do. It urks me that we have so many meetings!!

After a full day of working and meetings--I decided I had to go shopping for more "teacher stuff." I went in for a few specific things and come out with two large bags full. Once I got home I worked on making labels for the files of the new class of kids. I don't mind this mindless stuff that requires little or no thinking, I can do it while in front of the TV. I also wanted to get ready for the testing we do next Friday--so I spent another hour working on the computer.

Finally, I decided to go to bed at 11:30. Now, I'm a night owl--during the summer. But this is something I have to change once school starts. I can no longer stay up past midnight and wake refreshed and ready to go. (I don't really think I ever could, even when I was younger!) So, I get to bed and--I can't get to sleep.

My mind was thinking about all of the things that I wanted and needed to do. I tossed and turned, trying to turn off my mind. This always happens when the school year begins. I go from worrying about which route I'm going to ride the next morning to planning, meetings, and getting every little detail prepared for school. It's a transition that takes some time.

I finally got up and took an Advil PM to help me sleep. I guess I must have slept because I woke up the next morning--but definitely not refreshed!! I was thankful I didn't have to work with kids this day. I'm hoping for a good night's sleep tonight and I've got to stop dreaming about working!!

Friday, August 12, 2011

A Story

I took the Colorado Writing Project this summer. It got me in touch with my own stories that were in me to tell and that's where I wrote this. This is a story that stayed with me even though it happened over 20 years ago. It was my first year in regular education--having transferred out of special ed. It was a year I never forgot.


Classroom Terror


Sherry Schulz
July 21, 2011
CWP II

I sit at the back table in my classroom during reading. The kids in my guided reading group are involved in partner reading a passage. We are looking at making meaning from what we have just read. I look at my six students who are in front of me at our reading table. They whisper read with their partner, coaching each other as I have taught. My eye wanders across the room and over to Jamie. She’s supposed to be copying her spelling words but I see that she has her hands in her desk. My focus pulls back and I can see the hundreds of tiny pink bits of paper under and all around her desk. I will her to look at me so I can give her that “teacher look” but she carries on with her scissor escapades. I can no longer stand it.

I speed wheel over to her desk.

“Jamie, what are you supposed to be doing?” I ask sarcastically.

She just looks at me sheepishly. Her fiery red hair and puddles of freckles on her nose and cheeks seem to glow on her pale white skin. She just sits there looking guilty.

Just ignore and then redirect I tell myself before I begin to lose it. That’s what I was taught. That’s what works for most students but not for Jamie.

“I didn’t do that, it wasn’t me!” she exclaims as she puts her scissors back into her desk.

“How many times to I have to tell you to stop fooling around and get your work done?” I ask with my voice rising in volume.

Her face starts to turn a light shade of pink, then it turns a brilliant shade of red. She jumps up from her seat, pushes past me and flies out the door of the classroom.

Panicked, I follow her.

She’s in the darkened computer lab. She sits balled up next to a bookshelf with tears flowing freely. She’s crying hysterically with gulping sobs as sloppy tears drench her freckled cheeks.

My heart is beating fast, my face flushed in anger. I can think of no words of comfort or understanding. I can only remember her misdeeds for which there are many.

“Jamie, you need to come back into the classroom—now!”

She cries on and sobs, “I hate this school, and I want to leave!”

I bite my tough to keep it from saying my inner most thought (go ahead, please!) I head back to the classroom trying to calm myself and put my focus back on the students who are doing things right.

Why can’t I find the good in her, I think. Every child has a part of them that makes them loveable—where’s Jamie’s? I head home that day drained from our dramatic encounter.

The next day Jamie comes in happy as ever—as if nothing had happened. It doesn’t bother her—but it bothers me. I am the teacher. I am not supposed to let a student push my buttons the way that she does.

We carry on through our days, some bad and some worse. A month passes. I wonder how I will get through the year.

Today is Friday and the kids are excited. It’s a fun day that we do for every Friday in October. The kids earn a scary story reading session by me if they can earn the letters for “Fright Day” throughout the week. By Some miracle, the class has earned it this afternoon.

I exclaim, “Okay, now it’s time for fright day!”

Cheers rise up from the class as the students scurry around the room, closing the blinds, shutting the door and finding my flashlight. We gather in a big huddle on the floor in the middle of the room. I pull my wheelchair up to the group and Evan goes and fetches the pillow that I will sit on. They watch me as I pull my feet out of my footplates, scoot to the end of my seat and gently set myself down on the pillow below.

I hear “Wow, you’re short! “

“Your legs look kind of funny!”

“I know, I am short but you can’t tell when I’m sitting in my chair, can you? My legs are paralyzed, so they are kinda skinny looking,” I reply.

It’s the second time the kids have seen me out of my wheelchair. I like to see their reactions. They are so real and so honest—and many times just blurt out a question or a comment. Since Jamie was new, she had never seen me do this before.

I get out my Scary Stories to Read in the Dark series and begin to read. I make them all jump when I yell, “YOU HAVE IT!” with the Big Toe story. They huddle together loving every scary minute of it.

Amanda looks frightened.

She asks, “Can I go in the hall because this is too scary for me.”

“Sure you can, “ I say. “Just bring a book with you to read by our door.”

After a half an hour our fright day is up. They moan and beg for more but it is near the end of the day so there is no more time to give. We break our huddle as the kids switch back on the lights, open the door to let back in the kids in the hall, and raise the blinds.

I move my chair behind me as I grab the seat pole to begin to lift myself back in.

“Okay, who’s going to lift me?” I jokingly say.

They just laugh at the thought of trying to carry me and put me back in my wheelchair. Jamie comes up to me and puts her hands beneath my legs in an effort to help me into my chair.

I am touched. A warmness overtakes me. I have never seen her do anything that resembled kindness or helpfulness. This was a first.

“Thanks, Jamie,” I say. “But I can really do it myself.” She smiles
and stays near in case I do need her.

We get our room cleaned up for the end of the day. The chairs are stacked, folders passed out and the kids are lined up ready for the bell. The bell rings and the students eagerly file out of the room. Jamie swings by me on her way out and gives me a strong hug. I hug her back. We have found our connection.

I think maybe I will be able to get through the year after all.

Twenty plus years later I am at a Starbucks in a Barnes and Noble. A young woman with red hair waits on me as I order my skinny vanilla. She looks at me with an unbelieving look.

“Are you Ms. Ramsey?” she asks.

It was Jamie all grown up. We talk of our lives since our year together in fourth grade. Her freckles have faded—but I still see her essence of her younger self. As I am ready to leave she replies,

“You were my favorite teacher,”

I smile as I head out and think I am grateful we found the goodness in each other.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Oh My, Where Did the Summer Go?

I went into my classroom today. We don't have to report until next Wednesday, but you can never get everything done in one work day. That's all we have since the others were taken with the furlough days. So, I went in to find everything piled high on my reading table in the middle of the room. It felt....overwhelming. It does every year. Even though I have taught for 26 years--it still feels overwhelming. I will start to have "teacher nightmares" pretty soon.

I immediately counted the desks lined up all pushed together--23. I tried to imagine 5 or 6 more desks in there--and I felt the dread. I thought 22 kids all last year was a challenge--but 28! In the "olden days" that was the norm. They lowered class sizes when the district got a mill levy, years ago. It had been such an awakening and I don't know how I ever taught with 32 kids in my class. We are expected to do more with a lot less. And since we are teachers and care about our kids--we will.

I will be heading to the office supply stores to stock up for my classroom. I will buy markers, and pens, and tons of folders, spiral notebooks, sticky notes, and any other thing I think I must have. I blame the teaching profession for my school supply addiction. I have to admit, my pulse races when I enter a Staples, Office Max or Office Depot. My eyes wander over the endless brightly colored supplies, all wrapped and tempting--just waiting to be purchased. I seem to lack the ability to JUST SAY NO! I picture my future class with bright smiles on their faces just thrilled with their writing folders that I have made, or using the brand new markers in the writing center. That's what drives me to buy.

I have been trying not to think about going back yet. It seems like the summer just zips by. I had an awesome summer--with lots of bike riding, and some new adventures. I didn't go anywhere--not like last summer with my Prague adventure. Now, it's about over and I have to focus on teaching again. It's hard to get my mind back on teaching--it's so all encompassing. It takes over my life and my play time is forgotten. I don't look forward to staying until after 6 pm every night and then doing more work when I get home. Once the kids are seated in my classroom with their new school clothes, cute haircuts and shiny smiles, I'll be okay. But in the meantime....I'm coming back kicking and screaming and trying to get every last drop of playtime out of my Summer!