It's that time of year again

Since they start running back-to-school ads practically just as the last Fourth of July firework is shooting off, I try to ignore them as long as possible.  But when Staples Teacher Appreciation Day hits, you know the end is nigh.

Like many teachers, I spent most of the summer trying to forget about school while simultaneously trying to psych myself up for next year.  Every summer, I swear I'm going to do tons of preparation, and every summer, I don't do as much as I'd like.  Growing up, I was always conscientiously over-prepared, but summer brings out the procrastinator in me.

One thing I did do this summer was to read Awakened: Change Your Mindset to Transform Your Teaching by Angela Watson, who runs the Cornerstone website for teachers.  I'm sure there are tons of books out there about how to ease job stress, but it was interesting to read one that's aimed directly at teachers; only a fellow teacher can appreciate those uniquely frustrating circumstances like when your push-in prep teacher is fifteen minutes late or when an administrator suddenly demands that you have a classful of individual assessment results ready by tomorrow.  The lesson Awakened teaches is something I already know but have extraordinary trouble doing, which is: It's healthier to let go than to stew about it in a seething rage.  Summertime was the perfect time for reading it, too, because summertime is like New Year's resolution time for teachers: This year, I will remain refreshingly above it all and not get mired in misery of any sort!  Ms. Watson is up-front about the fact that clearly this attitude is a work in progress.  She's also up-front about the fact that she came by this attitude by way of her Christian faith, which I admit was disconcerting at first, but the content of the book doesn't really Go There, so to speak, which as a non-Christian I appreciated.  Bottom line: Anyone who's trying to help teachers feel less stressed out so that they can be better at their jobs, rather than blaming teachers for the sorry state of everything ever, is cool with me. 

Looking back to plan ahead

Do you have any idea what you would have done differently this year if you could change something?

That question comes from Mr. Brosbe, a fellow NYC public school third grade teacher, and it's a question I'm glad he asked, because it gives me a chance to do some constructive reflection instead of wallowing in self-pity.  One of the things that's disheartening, looking back on my year, is that I should have known better about so many of these things from the start.  But beginning the school year at a new school in a CTT classroom for the first time threw me off my game, so to speak, and everything suffered as a result.  So these aren't just "things I should have done differently," but rather "goals for next year."

1. Establish consistency and routine right from the start.
It's so hard to know what works, and I have a tendency to jump the gun (i.e., if the kids aren't getting something right away, I switch tactics and try something else instead of having a little patience and keepin' on with the keeping on).  I wasn't used to teaching in a school where students trickle into the classroom on their own (as opposed to me picking them all up at once), or where a morning meeting is actually part of the daily routine, or where I set my own schedule altogether, for that matter.  So much of your classroom community and culture comes from establishing those comfortable routines, and I think the lack of them in my classroom this year is part of why I never felt fully "bonded" with my students. 

2. Keep it simple.
My co-teacher and I knew going into the year that we had a class that would need clear expectations set for them, and we set up this complex baseball-themed behavior system that involved "rounding the bases with good behavior!" and moving into the "strike zone" for acting out.  It just got too complicated to manage and we dropped it early in the school year in favor of a ticket reward system, which also involved finding time for everyone to trade in their tickets for fabulous prizes.  (The vast majority of our students preferred to hoard their tickets rather than trade them, with the end result that on the last day of school, I held a class-wide "ticket auction" in which everyone competed to see who would be willing to hand over the most tickets for the most worthless pieces of junk in the prize bin.  This is how I sounded as the auctioneer: "I have one dinosaur bookmark!  We'll start the bidding at 20 tickets.  Okay, I see 30!  Anyone going higher than 30 tickets?")

Now, of course every year you hope that your students will be so intrinsically motivated by learning that these sorts of systems aren't necessary, and I have heard from my future students' current teacher that "they want to please you" (the five sweetest words a teacher can hear), but next year I don't want to be messing around with when and how and where to distribute prizes...I just want a simple behavior system that manages itself!

3. Set reasonable, meaningful consequences.
My naughty friends this year were remarkably immune to negative consequences.  I had several students who were not allowed to attend recess or eat with their friends in the lunchroom for weeks at a time (on the principal's orders, not mine), and they were (or at least they pretended to be) totally untroubled by this.  One of them in particular enjoyed showing off just how untroubled she was by loudly declaring her contempt for whatever fun activity she was missing.  So there were times when I thought, "Why bother take away recess, it doesn't bother them anyway," but then there were other times when I found myself coming to the end of my rope and making unreasonable threats like, "If I see that one more time, you're going straight to the principal's office," as if I were in some zany 1950s teen movie where I played the stern teacher. 

So this goes with my above philosophy of keeping it simple: Consequences should be clear from the start, not invented on the spot by me in a fit of anger -- and the punishment should fit the crime, so to speak.

You'll notice I haven't said anything at all yet about actual instruction.  That's because I felt like this year was so clouded by management issues that my biggest difficulty was actually getting to instructional time.  But I will say for next year...

4. Use my student data to plan targeted small groups.
At my former school, we were expected to teach a million and one small strategy groups, but it was all about quantity over quality.  At my new school, the trend ran more towards individual conferences.  On the one hand, conferencing is a little easier because you just plop down next to a student, find out what he's working on, and go from there; on the other hand, I had a lot to learn about how to teach something in a one-on-one conferences (as opposed to just shooting the breeze).  I did so many individual conferences that I really moved away from small groups, and I missed out on a lot of chances to work with my students together in a group.  Next year, I'd really like to make sure I'm trying to group my students flexibly by need and do some groupwork on their goals.

And there you have it!  I'm in the middle of a move, but I'm hopeful that by August I'll be all settled in and ready to really plan for next year!

Be careful what you wish for

Last year I used to tell myself that if I could survive my class, I could survive any class.  Which just goes to prove that you should be careful what you claim to be able to withstand, because "any class" could be coming sooner than you think.

Last June, at the end of a rough school year, I was able to look back at the year with a sense of relief and even pride.  Despite some very difficult challenges and a huge lack of support from my administration, I could say with certainty that my students were leaving second grade knowing more than when they came in.  I was reasonably sure that 100% of them were prepared to be third graders.

This year, I'm disappointed to report, I don't feel the same way.  Three of my students failed the ELA exam (two of them have IEPs with modified promotional criteria; the third will be promoted via his promotional portfolio).  Too many of my students moved too few reading levels, or haven't yet mastered their multiplication tables, or are writing the same kinds of pieces they were when they arrived in September.  (I nearly cried when I compared their June '11 on demand writing with their September '10 on demand writing.)

I could give you hundreds of excuses that put the blame on them: they didn't do their homework! They're not reading! But I categorically refuse to do this.  The truth hurts: It was a tough year, on the heels of another tough year, and I didn't do as much as I could have or should have to make sure the message went through.

And so I've made a promise to myself: Next year will be better.  And it won't be because I have a better class (although I've been told over and over how amazing next year's third graders are); it will be because I plan to spend at least some of my summer vacation really planning thoughtfully for next year.

Next year will be better.  At this point, it has to be!

Testing Miss Malarkey

Top 10 Questions/Comments Made By My Third Graders During Their First Ever Set of ELA and Math State Exams

(aka "Why Teaching In a Testing Grade May Cause Premature Aging," or "Why I Have Band-Aids On All My Fingers From Nervously Picking Off the Cuticles While Proctoring")

10. "Why do we have to use a #2 pencil?"

9. (Directions read by me: "You may not speak to each other while the test is being administered."  Student:) "What does 'administered' mean?"

8. "I don't get how to show my work for this part."

7. (The test directs students to continue working when they see the words GO ON at the bottom of the page and to stop working when they see the word STOP. On the ELA, students get ten minutes per passage and have to STOP before being directed to move on. On the math exam, they get 60 minutes to do all 40 questions, no STOPping. On the math exam, one student asked:)  "When is it gonna say STOP?!"

6. "But none of these choices are right."

5. "But both of these choices are right." 

4. "Can I look this word up in the dictionary?"

3. (while filling in a graphic organizer on the ELA in which the directions state, "Name two other things in the article that...")  "Am I supposed to answer this using my background knowledge?"

2. (while pointing to an open-answer question on the math exam in which the directions state, "Show your work")  "Do I have to show my work for this part?"

and the #1 comment one of my students made just prior to the start of the math exam...

1. "Wait, is this the real test?"

Happy end of testing season, everyone!

I ain't taking no deep breaths

THE TEST is almost upon us!  Recently I met with my principal to discuss what grade I’d like to teach next year.  After many, many hours of soul-searching I had listed second grade as my first choice on my preference sheet, but there may not be an opening, so I then spent many, many hours agonizing over whether I’d rather move to first grade or stay in third.  My principal asked me to be “completely honest” about my reservations in third grade. 

“Well,” I said, “I’ve never done test prep before, and I’ve never had a class like this before, so getting this class through test prep has been…”

He finished the sentence for me.  “Get me the hell out of third grade?” 

Bingo!  I have not enjoyed doing test prep – what teacher does, really? – but I also do not believe, as some teachers do, that a solid curriculum is enough to prepare eight-year-olds to take their first standardized test without any additional “test-taking” support.  One of the highest readers in my class has committed a bubbling error on every single practice test we’ve taken.  Another one of my highest readers has raised her hand during practice tests to ask to see a dictionary.

Then there’s Marco, an IEP student who’s reading below grade level (not dramatically, but still), whose main issue with THE TEST is just plain stress.  During countless practice sessions, I’ve turned around to find Marco with tears streaming down his face, shaking his paper at me in frustration.  Because Marco’s IEP grants him modified promotional criteria, there’s little danger that he’ll have to repeat third grade even if he does fail the test (which – fingers crossed! – probably won’t happen anyway).  But Marco doesn’t know that, and he’s starting to crack under the pressure of day after day of reading test passages that are just a little too hard for him. 

I’ve been working on some coping strategies with him, like: If a question is getting really hard, just turn your paper over for a few seconds and take some deep breaths before you go back and read it again.  But the other day, I saw Marco’s fists starting to clench in anger.  When I got there, before I could even say a word, Marco looked up at me, waved his paper in my direction and angrily blurted: “And I ain’t taking no deep breaths!”

Oh, THE TEST.  May our pencil points stay unbroken, our bladders empty, and our minds calm!

April is the cruelest month

More than any other school year, I've had a difficult time blogging about teaching this year (as my near-total lack of posting obviously suggests).  I've always blogged a lot about my frustrations with my administration; at my new school, thankfully, most of those complaints no longer exist.  As hard as it is to believe, I've been busier than ever with planning and also dealing with parents outside of school, which is sort of new for me; it was extremely rare for parents at my former school to communicate by e-mail, but this year I feel like I spend a lot of time at home composing e-mails to parents.  Last year I posted a lot about my frustrations reaching my students; while my class this year is at least as "entertaining" as last year's wild bunch, I feel like I'm dealing with a lot of frustration more on a personal level than an academic one, which is difficult to put into words on this blog.  Perhaps it's because I lack a certain amount of autonomy in the classroom now, and I don't feel entirely comfortable posting about my co-teacher and our negotiations over lesson planning. 

I will say this: I had no idea how difficult it was going to be to work with someone else in the classroom.  For two years at my former school, I frequently parallel taught in classrooms with other teachers (i.e., either I pushed into a classroom or a supporting teacher pushed into my classroom; the class was divided into two groups and each of us taught a group on opposite sides of the room).  But we weren't necessarily teaching the same thing at the same time, we rarely planned together and we weren't "responsible" for the other teacher's students in terms of conferencing with them or recording data.  Co-teaching in a CTT classroom is entirely different.  You don't realize how many decisions you make in a day as a teacher until you've had to collaborate on every single one of them.  Also, at my new school, teachers have a lot more freedom to plan their own schedules and their own curriculum, so that actually makes it more difficult to work with someone else because all that has to be decided upon.  I've realized that my instincts are to plow through the curriculum and try to cram everything in and get it done, because I'm used to being told exactly what I'm teaching and when I'm supposed to be teaching it.  When my co-teacher has had to suggest slowing down or reviewing material, I've looked at her like she has seven heads.  If we review multiplication facts again, we won't get to number patterns in time for THE TEST!

Ah, the test.  That's the other thing: test prep.  It's been extremely stressful.  First of all, I've never taught "test prep" before, not least of all to kids who have never taken "THE TEST" before.  I'm convinced we don't know what we're doing and if (when?) they do poorly, it will be our fault for not adequately preparing them.  Second of all, I went to this TC workshop where I was shamefully reminded that my students are eight years old.  They are eight years old and I have spent the last four weeks being impatient with them because they don't understand how to bubble the bubbles correctly and we just taught you to circle the genre in the directions and that answer choice is directly from the passage and none of you are taking this seriously enough.  Meanwhile, we have been gearing up and gearing up for the test, and then we hit vacation, and now the weather is finally lovely and I'm sure none of us want to return to school for THE TEST.  When it's over (by the middle of May, both the reading/writing and the math test will be over), I'm not sure what we'll do.  We have other units left to cover, of course, but I fear the kids will be mentally checked out of school for the year now that it will no longer be on THE TEST, and as teachers we'll be looking ahead to next year.

I know I'll be back in my own classroom next year; CTT is not for me!  I'm hoping I'll be back in second grade next year, too (that is, if I don't get fired; just read this morning in the Post that the budget is still not looking good for teachers).  I'm not sure if it's my third graders, or just all third graders, but third grade is a little too much attitude for me.  I like my students small and sweet, not sassy (well, they can be a little sassy, like when I said to Mario, "It's not the end of the world," and he said, "Yes it is!  In 2012!  Like the movie!").  I also think I prefer the second grade curriculum.  We spent three torturous units in a row this year in book clubs.  That entailed: grouping the kids by reading level while simultaneously taking into account our ridiculous behavior issues; finding an appropriately leveled series for each book club to read; digging up multiple copies of multiple books in each series for each member of the book club to read; attempting to make sure each member of each book club read the same amount of pages each night in preparation for book club discussions; and monitoring book club discussions for signs of intelligent conversation.  I'm not necessarily anti-book club units, but I am anti three-book-club-in-a-row units.  In our class, we have many, shall we say, interesting personalities, at least a few of whom on any given day would outright refuse to meet with their book club, look at their book club, or sit near their book club.  A few of our kids will go so far as to call other kids "cheaters" or claim, "He stole my idea" if someone expresses the same theory about a book (and we're not exactly talking Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration here, we're talking "I think she was being a good friend because she said I'm sorry"). 

Thank goodness, our last unit of the year is more palatable; the kids research another country and then write little information books about that country.  Bonus: connection with social studies!  The other thing I miss about second grade is teaching science and social studies; my third graders go to science twice a week with another teacher, and we in theory teach social studies once a week but in reality hardly ever manage to squeeze it in (especially now with THE TEST) looming.  I can't help feeling like there were so many little things that I managed to squeeze in last year with my class because it was me and only me calling the shots, and if I wanted to take five minutes to do something, I could.  I'm hoping that next year will be a nice fresh start and then I can really enjoy my new school, which -- aside from my issues with my co-teacher -- I really do like.

I had a dream that I didn't pass the state exams and was going to have to repeat third grade.  Clearly the stress of test prep is getting to me.

I came home and followed a link on another blog to a transcript of a Rush Limbaugh show.  I know that guy's a maniac and no one should listen to anything he has to say, but nevertheless, let's take a look at what Rush has to say:

"Can we get rid of the myth once and for all that school teachers, anymore, are these average, ordinary, next-door neighbors who are just doing everything they can to further the educational experience of your children?  That's not who they are.  They are left-wing activists, active members of unions who are oriented first by a political agenda, second by their own well-being, and your kids come last.

Could these people who are making what they're making as a result of state and federal accidents, could they earn that money in the private sector on their own? Do they have the skills? Do they have the talent?  Could they?  Do they have the ability to even do what they're doing now reasonably well? The whole educational system has been co-opted by people who have found an easy way to a good living, and they realize it and they don't want to give it up without a fight.  It's always about the money."

Definitely, Rush, I know I certainly became a teacher because I was all, "Easy money!"   

I don't know how to prove it to these jerks, but please believe me when I say: I work so hard for these children.  I dream about these children.  I wake up in the middle of the night worrying about how I can best further the educational experience of these children.  

:::sigh:::