Saturday, June 11, 2011

Filling the Bucket

This will be the last post written from the perspective of a first grade teacher. Next year, I move to fourth grade. The stories will be good, but they won't be the same.

However, something like this will probably never happen again. This is Filling the Bucket.

Every month, the actual school counselor comes in to do a lesson with the kiddos. In December, it was about that warm fuzzy feeling. As teachers, we were asked to list 3 things that we liked about each student to be read aloud during the lesson. No problem, I love my kids and tried my best to make sure each student heard something unique and special. They discussed how we each carry an invisible bucket that holds our warm fuzzy feelings. When bullies hurt us, it is like they are kicking over our bucket and some of our warm fuzzy feelings fall out. Compliments, helping others, and friendship are ways to re-fill our buckets.

At this time the kids took turns filling each other's buckets. As classroom teachers, we aren't normally a part of the counselor lesson, but in this instance I had stayed in the room and worked. Near the end, our Counselor asked if anyone needed more drops in their bucket, and the kids said "We didn't fill Miss Wishon's bucket." So she asked for three things that they liked about me. The following is the greatest list I could have ever imagined.

1. She lets us do fun stuff on Fridays.
2. We are all her favorites; she loves us all the same.
3. She treats us like we're her own kids.

We all know I cried, and that my bucket now runneth over for life. I don't care what you do, or what awards you've won, you will never know what that felt like. The moments like that remind me that teaching is the greatest privilege, and I'm lucky to be know it.

I love you so much first graders; I can't wait to see you again in a few years.

Moving Out Generosity

It is true, that when working with amazing people, they become like your family. That is definitely the case in my building.

Recently, I was simply looking to move out of my current house and get a roommate. I thought, "Hey, I know some great people and it might be cool to live with one of them. " I announced this one morning at a staff meeting saying, "Hey if you'd like me to live with you, let me know."

Apparently, that wasn't very clear because nearly every person at the meeting said if I needed somewhere to live, that they had extra space, a spare room, a garage, or a couch that I could stay on.

The generosity of people is amazing. Let's remember these aren't rich people, they are teachers...who are also just getting by. I love those people. I love them a lot.

Children's Jobs: Sad and Upset

So, it is probably apropos this moment to iterate that my classroom has jobs. Some permanent, some that change on a weekly rotation. This story focuses on those permanent jobs. Those appointments are as follows:

Timer/Technology: StudentS1 -does all the timing and smart-board related work.
Secretary(formerly filer): StudentS2 - files all papers, answers phone, takes messages.
WorkStation Attend: StudentX - chooses audio book, sets up and takes down workstations
Couselor: StudentJ - listens to and filters all tattles as either fix it or take to Miss Wishon.
Quiet Monitor: StudentC - a former weekly job, but after this story...became perm.

These students take their jobs very seriously. The first 4 are very protective of their responsibilities and become simply volatile should some one else encroach on their work. I only have myself to blame for this, but I have created monsters. Monsters of the best and most adorable variety, but monsters none-the-less. The most glaring examples follow, including how StudentC made Quiet Monitor her own.

Secretary: StudentS2 was chosen based on her slightly annoying ability to be done with absolutely everything eons before everyone else, and then have the nerve to bored with reading books that were beneath her intellect. For a teacher, a perfect opportunity to pawn off some of the clerical classroom duties. It all started with filing the graded work into our mailboxes, and progressed slowly to organizing work to be graded and possible portfolio pieces, and ended with her answering my phones like a receptionist at a law firm. "Miss Wishon's room, this is StudentS." I knew I had made the best choice after the Larry incident, and was put off when she had the audacity to be absent from school.

Timer/Technology: Sometimes jobs are chosen for children who just happen to be near you when you are thinking about it, and it just so happens to work out. Anyone could have done the the Timer job, set a timer...press start. EASY. StudentS1 proved her worth, about 2 months after the initial appointment, when 2 amazing things happened. First, being protective over her classroom career, she naturally became a bit possessive of the smart-board and my computer. On this particular day, I heard her chastise another student with, "Don't be jumpin' on my Smart-Board." I adore when they police themselves. Then not 15 minutes later, with not a hint of panic on her face, she says: "We forgot to set the timer, I feel it's been about 5 minutes, so I'll set the timer for 7 minutes and then I'll remember to do 12 and 1." --I love a kid with crisis management skills. (12 to work, 1 to rotate).

Counselor: This was not a happen to be near job, it was born of necessity. I detest tattles, and simply refuse to listen to them. I've tried everything from tattle ears, to very direct lessons on tattling vs. reporting...don't let anyone fool you. None of it works, you know what works? A Counselor. After a brief training session about what I consider report worthy, I had turned my nosiest most constant tattler into a classroom management machine. After a few days of saying, "This sounds like something that should go to StudentJ," the kids caught on and I even got reports from Recess that they were telling each other to "take it StudentJ." StudentJ herself would sometimes take the lead, a miracle that I couldn't have predicted. One glorious day in March, my students had formed an editing line. That is a line of people who needed their writing edited or rechecked for mistakes. StudentJ was a member of this line, as it started to get a bit nosier than I prefer. Apparently it was also nosier than she felt it should be, because before I even I had my head up to quiet them, I see her step out of line, stand to the side and ask, "What exactly is the problem in my line?" She then pulled the 2 problem causers to the side, listened to the issue, made them apologize, and returned to her place in line. AMAZING. Let's be honest, you know I was trying not to laugh so hard I was about to cry.

WorkStation Attendant: Great kid, no drama...StudentX was the perfect choice. His story is short, so don't worry. Short and Stellar: just like 1st grade. He was full proof, set the stations out, change a game if he wanted, and pick the audio cd and book of the day for listening center. One day, he didn't change the book and another student started to complain. Instead of bending to their whining he said, "Good Reader's read it again," and went back to work.

Quiet Monitor: I had long known that StudentC was the best Quiet Monitor in the room, she was fair and well-liked. She also had higher expectations for quiet than me, AwEsOmE! However, I needed 8 jobs to keep the rotations going, so I kept it there. That is until, what I call, "Sad and Upset Day." We've all had those days, where the kids are out of control and bizarre. Sad and Upset Day, was one of those days. So much so, that by 1pm, we were having an emergency class meeting. Circled up, on the carpet, laying it all out there. Of course this is a moment, that someone needs to speak to me in the hallway. BLAST. While I am out of the room, rather...half in/half out so I can still see and hear everyone...we start to get noisy unattended on the carpet. I am doing some planned ignoring to focus on my guest. I have given a few teacher looks, but nothing more. At my 3rd, "You'd better stop" look, StudentC has had a enough. She joins forces with StudentJ and they begin to lecture the class:
Listen up, are you trying to make Miss Wishon sad and upset, because it seems like you are? She is nice to you and you are being rude! You know it makes her sad and upset when we are rude. So if you are trying to make Miss Wishon sad and upset, keep talking!
After that no one said a word, and when I returned to the carpet, several children apologized. After that display of leadership, I elected that we have StudentC become the permanent quiet monitor. Everyone was in agreement.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Larry

My kids are awesome. I don't think any story will ever illustrate how quick-witted and committed they are to the bits they create, better than this one.

The Cast: Miss Wishon, StudentE/Larry, and StudentS
The Scene: Room 29 and Surrounding Area

StudentE: Miss Wishon, over lunch, I changed my name to Larry.
Miss Wishon: Okay, Larry, get in line.
Larry: Okay

Later that same day:
Miss Wishon: StudentE, what day is today?
Larry: Miss Wishon, you keep forgetting to call me Larry.
Miss Wishon: Sorry Larry.

**Miss Wishon notices that StudentE is now writing Larry on all of his papers.

Next Day
StudentS: (the class filer) Miss Wishon, who is Larry?
Miss Wishon: Oh, StudentE changed his name to Larry.
StudentS: Hey Larry, could you put your last name on your papers so I know it's you?
Larry: Sure.

Both Larry and StudentS completely committed to the bit and just went with it. I love that about first grade. They will jump on any passing imagination train. We had Larry in class 2 weeks before winter break.

Before I even have a chance to greet Larry after break, he makes a point let me know that he has dropped Larry and gone back to StudentE. I make a point to tell him that I think that is wonderful, and think StudentE fits him better than Larry anyway.

2 weeks later, he announces that he is a girl. For a full afternoon, he bats his eyelashes and pretends to flip his hair.

No current personality changes to report.

Mrs. B, Mrs. C, and Support

Sometimes, as a teacher, you get lost in your classroom. You forget that other people are teaching, and they forget about you. As teachers, we are pretty self-involved that way. It's almost like your classroom exists outside of reality, and once in...everyone and everything not within the vortex disappears. For mostly this reason, I am shocked when other people comment about my teaching. It seems ridiculous that I would be unaware of their observations, but I mostly ignore people over the age of 13. It is even more ridiculous that, overall, they find me to be a good teacher. My most frequent and vocal support comes from Mrs. B and Mrs. C.

Mrs. B is self-contained sped teacher and is retiring at the end of this year. Mrs. B has been sending her students to my room for reading and math the past 2 years, and has only recently been the person coming with them. She has fallen head-over-heels in love with my classroom. Mrs. B thinks my kids are the greatest thing since sliced bread, and she's convinced I made them that way. I also always thank her for her kind words. This always right before she tells me to become a consultant and use "that technology piece" to make some real money. I don't know how to find the right words to tell her how much her praise means to me.

Mrs. C is a recess aide that helps out for about 15min every other day. I adore this woman. One day she told me she forgot to leave because she was really engaged in the lesson; I told her that long vowels and 3-letter clusters will do that to a person. She actually invites other people in to watch me teach. I was blown away when she asked if that was okay.

I'm not particularly wonderful receiving compliments, so I just assure them that I was blessed and am barely making it through each day with all of my hair still firmly rooted in my scalp. It is really nice to have people think you are great...but the truth is, many many people are far far better than this girl. I can only aspire to be the teacher they think that I am. Oddly enough, it seems like their conviction about me being great has forced me to raise the bar for myself. I don't know how to tell them that they are responsible.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Exercising the Demon

Some things you see and are able to identify immediately... no matter how far away or unlikely. Some examples include things like: your mom, McDonalds, and snakes.

I'm sure you've put together now that this particular story involves a snake, in a very unlikely place...my classroom floor.

One morning, we are using the restroom and following all routines like any other day. From my classroom door I look into the hallway (checking on the water fountain) and back into my room (checking on the rotations). In a very "Terminator" sort of way, my eyes focus on something small, curled, and black underneath my teaching table. Instinctively, I know this small thing is a snake. A very tiny snake.

"No, No..." I think, "It is far too small." In my happen-to-be-wearing-boots bravery, I walk over and nudge what I am telling myself is a leather shoe string. It doesn't move.

"Good, the shoestring is dead...where's its mother?" In my doubt, I call over J...my randomly determined "bravest student" because he didn't freak out with the beginning of the year massive spider incident.

"Hey J, come over here"
"Yeah, Miss Wishon"
"Do you think that is a snake or a worm?" I whisper, so as not to alarm the other children.
J crouches down inspecting the snake - I knew he was the bravest. His little eyes fixed on the snake, don't even look up as he says, "That's a snake."
"Are you sure?"
He looks at the snake, then up at me..."Its got a head, that's a snake." The most matter of fact statement I have ever heard from a first grader.

At this point, everyone knows what's up...I stop our lives, "On Pause" we like to call it. I make my kids promise not to tell any other classes cause they'll be jealous. We agree it is okay to tell our classmates who happened to attending pull out services during this time. We line up and head to lunch as if all was quiet on the classroom front.

I find a custodian. "There's a snake." is all I can think to say. I explain that it's only a baby, but that also leaves me wondering:

1. How did it get here?
2. Where is the mother?
3. Where are the other babies?

At this point, I eat some lunch assuming they will take care of this sooner rather than later. I'm wrong. My class walks into the room simply vibrating with excitement over our unwelcome dead pet. I have already said it should be gone. It isn't. Everyone has to look at and talk about it.

I start making phone calls, and am finally assured that someone is on the way. Relieved I turn around to witness D and J closest to the teaching table, with everyone else gathered about 3 large steps behind.

D: "Out! Out of here, SNAKE!"
Me: "D, it's dead already...what are you doing?"
D: Holds up piece of paper with the word God and The Cross written/drawn on it.
D: "Miss Wishon, that snake is the devil and this (holds up make-shift cross) is the only way to get rid of it."
Me: Thank You, but please sit down.

This was right up there with the smell detective.

Posting Marathon

So friends, it has been many moons. Many moons is a phrase I really enjoy.

There has been much to blog, but less time to do it in as I deal with restrictions of real time and shotty computer workmanship.

In an effort to keep up, I sent myself an email outlining things that need attention in the blog.

The email reads:
Filling Bucket
Children Jobs
Sad and Upset
Larry
Mrs. B
Grade Level Drama
Moving out and Generosity
SAFE Successes
Differences at a Field Trip
Exercising the Demon

I will be posting each of these in a few separate posts, in a generally chronological fashion.