I am a teacher. For the past eleven years, that title has been official. I teach Shakespeare and sentence structure and the Socratic method. Mostly, though, I teach students. Before I was officially labeled a teacher, I was still a teacher. I played "school" in my basement with a makeshift classroom of stuffed animals and reused worksheets and sample textbooks from my Aunt Rachel who worked at the school. Then I worked at camp and volunteered in youth groups, another form of teaching. And of course now that I'm a mom, I teach every day. Through conversations about relationships with peers and the importance of education, my sons can never escape my classroom, even if they would like a break! This is my last week in my official teaching position at Okoboji High School, and because I don't have a job for next fall yet, I am feeling an emptiness. Each box of books that gets packed weighs a bit heavier; every student who tells me they wish I was staying brings a few more tears. I've only been in my current position for eight years, compared to others who have spent a complete career here. I hope, however, that I've made an impact, however small it might be. If you would have asked me a few months ago, I would have said that our upcoming move to the Twin Cities would offer a much-needed break from teaching. I started looking at corporate training jobs and jobs with Christian nonprofits. I imagined a typical 8-5 job where I took an hour lunch with coworkers and lugged no work home on the weekends. I fantasized about abandoning the rushed 20-minute lunch break with just enough time to warm up leftovers, fill my water bottle, and have a brief discussion of politics with my regular lunch crew. In my new non-teaching world, I wouldn't be responsible for a room full of hormone-crazed adolescents who can't go 10 minutes without checking their Snapchat. In this new fantasy life, I was better paid and better dressed. But the reality remains; I am a teacher. And as annoyed as I get by some nameless students in my English 2 classes, as bothersome as it can be to run to the restroom between classes because I can't leave my 15-year-olds unsupervised, well, I can't imagine life NOT in a classroom next year. So I'm working on my resume and sending in applications and making plans for Teach Happy vol 2: The Minnesota Years.
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This is a reminder to keep things simple. At parent-teacher conferences a few weeks ago, I had to break the hard news to a mother that her daughter wasn't fully applying herself, her apathy reflected in her grade. We talked about the potential of her lovely young daughter and discussed a plan for moving forward. A few weeks later that same daughter was excelling in my class. She was engaged and active, learning and growing. So I wrote her a little Post-it note that said something like this: "You are kicking butt lately. Way to go!" I quietly placed it on her table while we were reading and didn't say a word. We never talked about it. This week in a written reflection, that same student wrote this: "I hope Mrs. Witt is reading this because one day she handed me a note that said something like 'keep up the good work, you're kicking butt.' You have no idea how happy I felt after that. When she gave me that note, that is all I really needed to hear/see. . . after I finally realized that I need to get my crap together and a teacher realized it, that note gave me a little 'umph.'" I don't write this to brag about myself but to hopefully inspire you. Take 30 seconds today to write an encouraging message on a Post-It note. You have no idea what impact you might have. I teach people. Real people with real problems and hearts and dreams and favorite foods. Sometimes I forget that when I get annoyed with immature behaviors or overwhelmed in responding to student writing. Today, though, I remembered. During most semesters in my College Composition class, we celebrate with a literary luncheon, an idea I stole from my time with the Ozarks Writing Project. (Shout out to Keri and Casey!) Every student must bring some kind of food or drink item to share, but there is, of course, an academic component. They must also write a short essay explaining the significance of the item they brought. During class we share our food potluck style while each student takes a turn reading his/her essay to the class. We're hitting some Common Core standards for writing along with speaking and listening, but more importantly, we're connecting. Today Anjelica shared about her passion for Fanta after her time living in Mexico. Mari wrote about sweet memories cuddled on the couch with her family, a movie, and her mom's famous chocolate chip bars. We learned about Bryce's grandma hiding the monster cookies up high so he and his brother couldn't overindulge, and Ali wrote symbolically about how her family represents the various components of trail mix. Food brought us together, and so did our words. Maybe it's because we're all in desperate need of a break. Maybe it's because I haven't had any added sugar or alcohol for more than 30 days. Maybe it's the supermoon. I've just been out of sorts a bit this week, and today I finally got a fed up with caring more than my students do. Remember the book Miss Nelson is Missing by Harry Allard and James Marshall? I have an alter ego, too. She showed up today, but not in the form of a substitute. During my first years of teaching in Missouri, a student gave me the nickname Miss Honey because I was so sweet. I'm not making this up. And the fact is, I rarely lose my cool in the classroom. This isn't a humble brag like you might say in a job interview, though. I openly tell my students that I rarely get angry, and they will hardly ever hear me raise my voice. I just don't think it's worth the spike in blood pressure. This can be a weakness, though. I'm too nice. I get too lenient with deadlines. I'm reflective to a fault. If students aren't doing their work, I overanalyze until somehow I've decided it's my fault (sometimes, yes, it is, but not all the time) and then readjust lesson plans and schedules. Today, however, Miss Honey lost her cool. It started 2nd hour. Every day for the entire year we've done the same thing when the bell rings in English 2. We settle into our seats with independent reading books and read for ten minutes. This is routine, but for nearly every single day this year, I've had to provide the same boy with a gentle reminder. That's usually all it takes, but this week he, too, has been out of sorts because of some drama in his first hour class. Today when he was whining and avoiding his book at the beginning of class, I sternly said, "I've had enough of your whining this week. Either pick up your book and read or head to the office. I'm done." He chose the book with a side of heavy sighing. Then fifth hour rolled along. Four students were scheduled to give informative presentations on a dream destination. We've worked on the project for nearly two weeks, and they've known since Monday that their day was today. Three of the four informed me at the beginning of class that they weren't prepared. I sighed heavily and reminded them that their grade would be reduced as we discussed at the beginning of the year. Then I walked down the hall to quickly commiserate with another teacher. "Make them give it," she said. So I did. I walked back down to my room, told the prepared student to get ready to present, and told the other three to march across the hall to the media center and do some last-minute preparations. They would present after lunch. And they did after much heavy sighing of their own. I'm guessing a few of my students in other classes had choice words to describe me today, too. Several of my English 2 and American Novel students have not been doing their assigned readings in Of Mice and Men and To Kill a Mockingbird. I've seen them waste provided class time, and I've read their responses that sound shockingly like Sparknotes. So today I gave a quick reading "quiz." I printed out the Sparknotes summaries for the chapters they had several days to read, and then asked them to point out at least three inaccuracies or missing details in the chapter. I saw lots of nervous glances and read several hilarious answers. After the "quiz" we talked about what they miss when they rely only on online summaries. It probably wasn't a lasting lesson, but for today, I felt some satisfaction. I'm sure the teaching gurus who write the books with the perfect strategies and ideal classes would not be pleased with my methods today. I apologize to Penny Kittle and Kelly Gallagher and the other mentor teachers that I try to emulate. Today was not my best day. Miss Honey will TRY to return tomorrow, but if she can't, she will surely be back after Thanksgiving. This week in English 2 we discussed the difference between a rant and an effective argument. This came about because I recently implemented Kelly Gallagher’s Article of the Week assignment with that group, and it quickly came to my attention that they had never been taught the basics of argument. (For those unfamiliar, the premise of this activity is that each week students read a nonfiction article, often about a current topic. They show evidence of active reading and understanding and then write a one-page response.) Last week’s article was about a deported mother living in Tijuana. I received responses that called the mother in the article “stupid,” responses that said “the illegals” were taking jobs that other Americans needed. And here’s the thing. I’ve been doing cartwheels in this circus long enough to realize that not all of my students will share my same worldview. (Duh!) Politically, religiously, socially... we come from different worlds. So while I might not share the same opinions on the current issues as my students, I do have a responsibility to teach them how to share those views effectively. I projected a t-chart highlighting some of the differences between a rant and effective argument. A rant relies on emotion; an argument focuses on claims supported by evidence. A rant is often wild and impassioned; an effective argument is logical and reasonable. Students nodded as I presented this information. Then I got to the last row on the chart. A logic-based argument is more likely to change someone’s mind than a rant. I posed a question. “How many of you have been influenced by a rant?” Several students raised their hands or nodded their heads. “You mean to tell me,” I continued, “that yelling is an effective method for changing your mind?” “Yes,” one boy agreed. “If someone is yelling really loudly and passionately, then I will probably listen.” “But don’t you want facts and evidence?” I pushed. “Nah,” several of them responded. And there you have it. We live in a society no longer persuaded by facts. I pushed the rewind button for my students. Using a graphic organizer, we chose the elementary route and planned out an argument about the superiority of dogs as pets. (Sorry, folks, but I’m a dog person.) We examined counter-arguments and together came up with answers to refute the opposition. At the end of the lesson I asked, “How is that different from a rant?” “Well, I’ve thought about the other side now,” one student answered. And that’s the hard work, isn’t it? That’s what I want for my students. I want them to examine their beliefs and question their biases. I want them to continually ask themselves, “WHY do I believe that?” And I get pushback and side-eyes and heavy sighs. But still. I dig in and do the work because THAT is the kind of world I want to live in. I don’t want to live in the world of social media ranting and either-or thinking. I don’t want my sons to grow up in a world where if you think differently than I do, you’re my enemy. I want dialogue and discussion, and I want democracy. One step at a time. Today at the end of the class we wrote anonymous encouraging notes to members of our learning community. We recently read Shirley Jackson’s “The Possibility of Evil” where the main character writes hate-filled anonymous messages. We chose to rise above that. Students thanked classmates for being “an awesome teammate.” One student told a favorite teacher that she was “the only reason I still like school.” We wrote notes to a lunch lady and the janitor; we thanked the school secretary and counselor. We spread love, not hate. This work is hard, the work of dismantling prejudices and discovering new beliefs and confirming old ones. But it is work that I love, that I am lucky to do. Rant over. Here’s a confession you might not hear from many teachers. (Although judging from the retention rate for teachers, it’s probably not all that uncommon.) Late every winter I start to daydream of other careers. I see photos on Facebook of an accountant acquaintance taking his family to Cancun in the middle of February and think about how I’ve already spent half of my personal days for the year. You can’t exactly make it to Mexico and back over a three-day weekend. On Sundays as I grade papers and post depressing photos on Instagram using the hashtag “englishteacherproblems”, I envy my neighbor who leaves her nursing shift without bringing stacks of paperwork home. The proverbial grass is always greener, I know, but in early March nearly every other job looks more desirable than mine. I had once thought of life as a lawyer. How much studying would I have to do to get a passing score on the LSAT? I love coffee. What about a job as a barista? If my husband got just a few more clients, surely we could swing the decreased salary.
Last week I got my big feelings a tiny bit hurt. While responding to English 2 journals, I came across an entry that stopped me in my tracks. With the brutal honesty of a teenager, a boy (we’ll call him “David”) revealed that last year English was his favorite class, but this year he isn’t really feeling a connection.
I instantly became defensive. What does Mr. Greiner do that I don’t do? I’m trying so hard to connect with all of my students this year. That boy just has a chip on his shoulder. He obviously hates me for no good reason. Ugh. Why do I even try? Overreact much? But this Tuesday I spent some time observing in my colleagues’ classrooms as a trained IPI (Instructional Practices Inventory) data collector for my district. While I was predominantly collecting data about student engagement, I couldn’t help but notice the different teaching styles of my fellow teachers. One of my major take-aways came after visiting Mr. Greiner’s classroom: he was incredibly charismatic and engaging with his students. He cracked jokes, drew them in, and connected from the front of his classroom. He had their rapt attention. Well, no wonder David loved English last year! I’m boring compared to that! My reflections didn’t end there, though. That same afternoon, colleagues came into my classroom for IPI data collection, and I barely knew they were there. My English 2 students were all busy with their independent reading books while I held a quiet reading conference with another student. I sat next to him in the back of the room and asked a few questions about his newest book. We had recently upped his page goal for the week, and so we talked about his different reading rates and why sometimes we readers choose to read books twice. I wasn’t charismatic, and I wasn’t cracking jokes. But I was connecting in a different way. In 1 Corinthians 12 Paul writes of the Church that we are “one body” with “many parts.” In a way, I think the same can be said of a healthy school environment. While it goes without saying that all of the teachers in our district are gifted in teaching, we are gifted in different ways. Some of us command attention and teach through charisma and humor; others come alongside quietly and teach through conversation. Some teach best with well-documented lesson plans; others come up with new ideas at the spur-of-the-moment and teach through trying different techniques each year. Maybe we rely on the textbook or student-led discussions or hands-on labs. Walking through the halls of our school, you will see it all. As Paul writes, “If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.” There are many teachers, but one school. Our students have different learning styles, so our different teaching techniques are desirable, even necessary. Maybe David will connect better with Mr. Greiner’s style, and maybe Monica will connect more in my room. That doesn’t mean I quit trying to engage with David. It just means I can show myself a little more grace if I’m not every student’s favorite teacher. Finally, more proof of our diversity working together can be seen in our school’s annual Homecoming video. Different members of our staff agree to be humiliated in front of the camera (and YouTube!) for the enjoyment of the student body. Some teachers shuffle feet in the background, some don outrageous costumes and flail their limbs unabashedly, and others just laugh at the rest of us from the auditorium. Many teachers, one school. To the retired folks at the post office who told my friend Annie that we teachers just put our students in front of the computer and tell them to “get to work”:
I would like to share with you a glimpse into my classroom. Today is a typical Wednesday. Our students have Academic Assistance time at the end of the day which means that our class periods are a bit shorter than on other days. That means I feel extra pressure to get through my plans. In College Comp we started by reading a poem together, “This Is Just To Say” by William Carlos Williams. We also read an imitation poem by Erica-Lynn Gambino and then together broke the poems down, stanza by stanza. Next I gave my students a few minutes to write their own imitation poems in their writer’s notebooks. Because I believe in the power of writing with them, I crafted my own example as well. After a few students shared their poems, I led a mini-lesson on “Shrinking a Century,” a writing concept introduced by Barry Lane in his book After the End. (I read this book outside of the school day during my own precious “free time.”) This writing technique will be important for some of my students to use as we continue in our unit on crafting narratives. It’s just day 11 of the year, and my writing students are getting ready to start their third piece of writing. No rest for the weary, as they say. After our mini-lesson, I modeled some brainstorming with my students. We will be starting a place-based narrative, so I shared with them potential topics and scenes I might explore in my writing. (I created this brainstorm last night at my kitchen table as my own children got ready for bed.) Finally, I set my young writers free to work. Yes, for the last eight minutes of class, my students were in front of their computers. They were composing and revising and rearranging their personal narratives which are due tomorrow. At the end of class I assigned an essay they are to read and annotate for tomorrow so we can discuss how place influenced Zora Neale Hurston’s “How To Be Colored Me.” Oh, and by the way, today’s class period was 41 minutes long. College Comp is one of three classes that I have the privilege to teach each day. My time in English 2 and Speech mirrors my previous description. We read, we write, we discuss, we engage, we think. You might be discovering a theme: my students and I are busy. Every minute. Of every class period. We work hard. We rarely take bathroom breaks. And here’s the thing, retired folks at the post office, we’re not alone. Across our district my colleagues are working tirelessly to craft meaningful learning experiences for your grandchildren. Yes, technology is involved in many of these learning experiences because it’s 2015. If you think technology is going away, I’m afraid you’re disillusioned. We are working to build up the world’s future leaders, and that means our students need to understand the nuances of online communication and the complexities of the digital world. Technology is a tool we use to reach that goal. Second grade teachers, history teachers, guidance counselors, ELL instructors, administrators. We are all working hard because we care. We care about learning, about our students, about the future. And the fact that you stand around at the local post office or coffee shop or church basement gossiping about our laziness and poor work standards, well, it fills me with indignation. Step in my classroom. Watch me work. Observe any of my colleagues meeting the standards of excellence our district has set for us. I think you’ll be surprised by what you see. Sincerely, Mrs. Witt Breathe deep. Jump in.
I'm starting an Attitude of Gratitude blogging challenge for the month of November. If you've noticed, it's November 2nd, so I'm a day late to the party. Mostly I've been afraid to commit. I don't like to start something I can't finish, and writing every day like this feels daunting. Consistent reflection can only improve my practice, though, so here we go. Nov 1 What are the best aspects of being a teacher? Nov 2 What is one small delight in the day that you always look forward to? I teach for small (and big) moments of transformation. I can explain best through story. Last year a particular student and I consistently butted heads. He challenged my authority; I got under his skin. We survived the year-long required course and smiled as we parted ways at the end of the year. This fall I saw his name on my roster for an elective. "What in the world?" I thought. "Now he is CHOOSING to take my class?" And guess what? Seeing this student is now a high point of my morning. We have established a rapport, and he is working hard in class. I don't what what exactly changed the nature of our relationship. Maybe he grew up over the summer; maybe I softened some. Maybe it's the course content and time of day. Whatever it is, I'm thankful, and he is, too. A few weeks ago I sent home a postcard letting him know that I'm so glad to have him class this year, that his work in my class has been inspiring. And in one of those teaching moments that are fictionalized in movies like Freedom Writers and Dead Poets Society, this student found me in the hall right after the postcard was received. "That was so cool, Mrs. Witt," he began. "You should've seen the smile on my mom's face. She's not used to getting good news home from school. She's mostly used to getting calls that I'm in the office again." And that is why I teach. Through this profession, I can witness transformation. That story is just one illustration of the moments of metamorphosis I have experienced through my years of teaching. The answer to the second day's prompt is a bit more self-centered. Each morning as my first hour students enter the room, I sit at my desk with my cup of tea. This is my time to collect my thoughts and prepare for the day. Many days the sky outside my wall of windows looks like this, and no matter what frustrations might be around the corner, in those quiet moments I remember that Gratitude Evaporates Frustration. Reflect: (intransitive verb) to think quietly and calmly; to express a thought or opinion resulting from reflection It's Friday afternoon, and Sam Smith sings to me from Pandora, the current soundtrack for my quiet thinking. It's time to reflect. Progress come from reflection as we consider strengths and weaknesses and make changes for moving forward. The end of a quarter seems like a natural point for pause. What I have learned about myself as a teacher this quarter? 1. After several years, I still don't have a consistent method for assessing student writing. My poor College Comp students can attest to this. At the beginning of the quarter I had them turn in their writing for feedback on Google Classroom. I used the suggesting and commenting features to provide feedback, and then I would check the revision history for changes made. That became cumbersome as I switched from their document to Classroom to the gradebook, and I felt like my feedback wasn't valuable. So a few weeks ago we transitioned back to printing drafts for my written comments. Now I'm killing more trees, and I know this isn't probably the most efficient way to respond to student writing in a 2014 1:1 environment. Suggestions are welcome. 2. Teaching writing as a full-time mom is hard work. (Can I get an "amen!?") I never provide feedback as timely as I would like. I feel like we're all juggling multiple deadlines as we work on first, second, and third drafts of various papers at one time. Next quarter (and especially next semester when I have new courses) I want to include additional shorter writing assignments. It's less daunting to provide really thorough, helpful feedback to a few paragraphs versus a few pages. And of course I also need to remember that not every piece of writing is for assessment. Maybe I need to incorporate more low stakes practice to go along with our freewriting and blogs in College Comp. 3. #WWWW is worth it. This is an addition to my writing classes that I will continue to tweak in the coming months and semesters. Students deserve time to discover their own passions in writing. Yes, that means sacrificing time for other endeavors in the classroom as the clock is always ticking. I will make it happen, though. 4. Building relationships is still essential. This is an area of my teaching that has been unfortunately neglected for the last two years as I tried to figure out the balance of teacher and mom. Starting at the beginning of the year, though, I started with a simple postcard. Every week I would send a few postcards for specific students. "I really enjoy your insight when we discuss literature." "Thanks for sharing your love with reading in our class." "I look forward to knowing you more this semester." It doesn't take much time, and the reaction is worth it. I truly believe I am a stronger instruction when I know and invest in my students. That is something I need to work on more next quarter. 5. Teaching vocabulary (without the workbooks) is fun! My students have been owning more words this quarter than we have in years past. I'm still focusing on vocabulary strategies for the rest of the year, so this is an area I will continue to reflect on. Right now I think my biggest takeaway is just the simple understanding that I need to craft engaging activities that get students using new words. Looking back, I realize that I haven't been as successful at cumulative vocabulary understanding. How can I continually reference our growing list of words as we add new concepts? 6. I am in the right profession, but growth is continual. I don't think I'll ever fully arrive at my destination as a teacher. This is my ninth year in the classroom, and it's the ninth year of adding new units and trying new things. That makes this job incredibly challenging and time-consuming, and it's always why I love coming to work (most days). What have you been learning in this first quarter of a new school year? |
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September 2020
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