Once upon a time

I think I've forgotten how much energy teaching can require. I'm suddenly feeling the need for a 3-day weekend, but that won't come until the end of the quarter. Until then, I trudge on. . .

My students are settling in to the routine of school, which means their true adolescent colors are starting to surface. No more "I'm-too-scared-to-misbehave" syndrome. I have to admit, though, this year is a lot more fun that last year. I find myself stressing over certain lesson plans & anxiously wondering how far I can get before I have to nix the whole thing & go to Plan B, but then I realize that these are different kids, and it's a different year, and I need to give them a chance. I'm often pleasantly surprised at how well they handle certain activities.

In fact, the kids were so engaged in 4th period one day that they were quietly lost in thought or scribbling their ideas after a discussion. I actually found myself thinking, "This is too quiet. Someone needs to throw a pencil or shout an inappropriate comment or complain loudly . . . then it will seem normal." I guess I became so accustomed to a certain basal level of misbehavior last year that a normal & productive classroom seems strangely abnormal to me.

I realize I'm a little relaxed about my own plans this year. I do still use the pacing guide and SCOS to guide my daily objectives, and I definitely strive to implement higher-order thinking, but I'm not so dogmatic that we finish everything in each class period or that all classes are "on the same page" as each other. These kids are amazingly inquisitive & simultaneously uninhibited, and I love it. I often use their questions as springboards for stories . . . they're fun to tell, I get to be dramatic, and it's usually a good way to grab the attention of kids who tend to get distracted. So, they hear about my college days on a tree hugger's campus . . . or about a guy I knew who proved to me that flatulence will ignite . . . or about the python that split open after trying to swallow an alligator whole. I can't wait until our unit on Infectious Disease ~ a plethora of gory stories awaits.

I'm halfway hopeful that the alleged bomb threat will result in a day off tomorrow . . . or at least a 2-3 hour delay. However, if past experience is any indication, we'll endure a day full of interruptions from the bomb squad and sniffer dogs, and will then evacuate to the high school across the street, most likely in the middle of my 1st observation of the year. Happy Friday!!

Almost, but not quite

So, I successfully coached my first ever athletic event. We didn't win, but I don't really care - it was still fun, and the kids' attitudes made it all worthwhile. Two of our boys placed 1st & 3rd overall - not bad!! The 1st place guy will probably always be 1st in every meet - he's that fast. Amazing to watch, and he's not at all braggy about it, which makes it even more admirable, in my opinion.

The best part was watching them support each other. They constantly cheered each other on. One of our girls was one of the last to finish, and as she came around the last leg, 5 or 6 of our team not only cheered her on, but ran with her the last 1/4 mile to help her finish. I almost cried, but didn't. I know, I'm such a girl.

More evidence to the aforementioned claim is my reaction to an unwanted guest. I heard a familiar "snap" this evening and went to investigate. Sure enough, a mousetrap I'd left out from last winter had caught an ugly little field mouse. I love all of God's creatures, but copraphagic rodents are not on my list of desirable cohabitants. I successfully caught 4 (yes, four) of the intruders last winter, and certainly don't want the cycle to start again.

I'm asking my students to collect & bring me cat hair for homework this weekend. It's probably not the most sanitary living situation to have cat fur scattered about the baseboards, but it's a heck of a lot more bearable than a living, breathing, beady-eyed mouse crawling about my apartment. Eww.

Arrrrrrrggghh. I can just hear my mother, "Oh, don't be so dramatic!" I can't help it. I'm surrounded by 13-year-olds most of my waking hours.

Confession is good for the soul, I guess

I had a strange realization last night, and it annoys me a little. Actually it annoys me more than I care to admit. I was at a friend's birthday dinner where I only knew a couple of people. Someone asked me what I do, and I explained that I'm a teacher, but added that it's totally different than anything I've ever done. As I ate my salmon salad, I realized that I do similar things frequently ~ tack on an addendum to my current job explanation, so that people know I haven't always been a teacher, that I had a different job in my "past life."

I'm generally not one to indulge in Dawson's Creek-ish navel inspection, but I wondered as I drove home, "Why do I do that?" It's not as if I want or need validation for my current job. I didn't fall into this job by default or inherit it as the family business without any choice in the matter. I deliberately chose to be a teacher because I love science and I love kids and I want to make public schools better. I know teaching isn't really a valued profession by many people, and that few people truly understand the energy required to be a teacher. I don't think my past job was any more reputable or commendable . . . in fact, I hated trying to explain what I used to do, b/c I never knew how much background knowledge people had, and it was just tedious to explain. Plus, I hated that job, so I hated talking about it.

I'm not ashamed of being a teacher. I know that I do value my journey, and the fact that I've had other life experiences besides teaching. But who really cares if anyone knows that? I hate that I'm not more satisfied with saying, "I'm a teacher," and that I can't admit that without hesitating a little. Most people are supportive, especially when they find out I deal with middle schoolers. I've only gotten a couple of those idiotic responses where people sneer and seethe, "Must be nice to have your summers off!"

Maybe I've just begun to realize how little people value the profession of teaching, and so I don't want to associate myself with a less-respected vocation. Which, I think, is completely self-absorbed & disgustingly prideful. It's one of those times where I utterly annoy myself.

One a more cheerful note: I know I'm not supposed to have a teacher's pet, but a kid in my 5th period is just so completely great. He's very smart, always engaged, very verbal for his age, and an amazingly independent thinker. I did a group work assignment yesterday, and all day long I heard, "Grrrrrrr! I cannot work with that girl!" (and yes, they really do growl) and "Can I puh-leeze switch my group?!" Because, you see, sitting with someone less than desirable for approximately 25 minutes is, of course, the end of a middle schooler's world.

However, in 5th period, I assigned groups, explained the instructions, and sat back to do the typical crowd control required in afternoon classes. Teacher's Pet walked up to me, grinned, and said, "I really like my group, Miss Kat!" And then he sauntered off to join his group, where he solved the assigned dilemma in about 30 seconds, and then happily explained it to the other 2 students.

Oh. It was like music in my ears. Gotta love that kid!

Life as a coach

Thanks to a helpful comment, I managed to move my blog to a more permanent server (with the help of a web-savvy friend, since I'm useless in such matters!)

I'm happy to report that my first week of coaching went well. I think I was a little petrified that all the kids would be faster than I, and wouldn't see me as knowledgeable or fit enough to coach them. We definitely have a 6-minute miler, but we have our share of slower runners, too, so I fit right in. The kids are great, actually . . . it's so nice to be leading kids in an activity they choose to do. Being outside at the end of the day is fun, too. And it's always fun to play cheerleader . . . I'm learning that half of coaching is just yelling, "Great job! Keep it up! You're almost there!" I feel so parental towards them already. I should be careful, or I'll be crying at their first meet when they all cross the finish line!

At any rate, it's fun to end the day with them. It definitely gives me something to look forward to after school other than sorting papers, grading, planning, prepping . . . the endless tasks of a teacher!