Nuts and Bolts- The Beginning

I'm adjusting well to working as an Interventionist. I can genuinely say that it is less work and more work all at the same time.

I ask myself these questions (among others) as I prepare my lessons:

• Is this activity the most efficient and effective use of our time together?
• Is this activity cross-curricular?
• Is this activity able to generate data for my administrative team to see?
• What can be done to extend this activity?
• Does this activity have multiple ways of assessment?
• Do my students have the prior knowledge needed for this activity?

In order to stream line and maximize my hour with the students, I have developed a rough routine.

1) Fluency Activities- I found that my students were unaware of their (lack) of ability to read accurately quickly. I use Reading A-Z Fluency Activities.

2) Close Reading Activity- I had been using the two resources provided to me by my school, but did not feel that the passages were applicable to daily life. I try to find passages that are relevant and interesting; they usually include a Social Studies Skill. Example: Dec. 7 is Pearl Harbor Day so we will work with a Pearl Harbor passage prior to the actual date so they will feel informed about the importance of the day.

4) Vocabulary- I am astonished at the poor vocabulary many students have, both past and present.
I am choosing to combat this in three ways- social scripting, academic vocabulary, general word knowledge.

Unplanned Opportunities

“My world was changing, and I was not ready for it.” 
― Juliet Marillier, Daughter of the Forest

I had an incredible first year of teaching; it was not perfect, but it was a wonderful year. My second year included a lot of change, but I was able to adjust well. My third year was a slap in the face- literally. I have questioned what in the world I am doing teaching and wondered how much money it actually takes to become a Miss Havisham.

Several weeks ago, I was given the opportunity to begin working as a Reading and ESL Interventionist for my current school. After much prayer, I texted my principal with a thumbs up icon and said "Let's do this!" Now, I am an Intervention Teacher for Grades 3 through 5.

Despite the fact I feel that this adjustment was a bit premature, I am determining to make the best of the situation with a happy and thankful heart.

This is going to be interesting...Let's do this.

The Adventures of a Tiny Teacher #2

Ants. Yes, ants. That's what caused me to be late to my second day of work as a professional teacher.

Allow me to explain:

When I relocated to rural Texas, there was nothing (I mean nothing) to rent due to the oil boom. (Imagine roughneck oil men making more than I do as a teacher! Gasp!) My parents graciously allowed me to use their RV until I found something else.

As my parents helped me park the RV and set up, none of us anticipated  these words from the park host:

"Now, when ya go to use the commode in your RV, just put the paper to the side in a little waste basket and carry it out with you next time ya leave." The RV Park Host noticed my shock and rattled off an explanation, "Now, up here we use a septic tank, not city waste or nothing. In fact, our pipes have to go up the hill to the cow pasture and it sprays the water out. It's the kind that sprays out the goo and since it has to go up hill and all, we don't use toilet paper so it won't clog."

I had unknowingly signed up to pass on my right to flush toilet paper for an indefinite amount of time (most likely months) and have a tiny waste basket next to the toilet (that would barely flush with any water) to contain my toilet paper with unmentionable things attached to it.

Well, by the grace of God, I sucked it up. However, I decided, however, to outwit the system. Each morning before I left for work, I would rest that awful plastic bag on the top step of the RV so I could grab it on the way out.

That particular morning, I grabbed the bag and put it in the passenger seat of my SUV to toss out at the dumpster as I left the park. I forgot. How I could forget THAT, I'll never know.

Well, I drove to Sonic to pick up my Diet Coke my teaching survival essential. After I paid and sat my drink into the cup holder, I glanced over and noticed the awful plastic bag. I decided I would not throw it away at Sonic because the thought just sounded gross. I put my hand on the bag as a reminder to turn back to the RV park when ouch! Then another one! Then another one!

My hand, the bag, the passenger seat were covered in ants! I grabbed it and shoved it into the trashcan at Sonic. Mental picture: Me grabbing the bag, pulling across me to the trashcan, quick push in and release only to find that, yes, I was covered in ants. I pulled my car to the side springing out and shaking off my clothes while pounding hundreds of ants onto my seat cushions, then brushing away the dead.

However, there's just something about ant bites that stay with you long after they damage has been done.

As I tried to teach my class that morning, I noticed I kept backing up the chalk board (yes, chalk board) and trying to sneak in a scratch. Sensing that something was not right, my most perceptive student spoke up in his broken English. "Are you okay?" I turned into a cherry tomato and began to unravel my morning in an animated story.

Again, that student said "It's okay, Ms. S. Sometimes you just gotta scratch" and so I did.

I laughed, they laughed, and we moved on; I did, however, visit the nurse to get some Caladryl.

Food for Thought: Students will respond to our response; it's okay to be genuine when life hands you the unexpected because we are teaching them an appropriate response.

I deserve...

Hello friends.

As my work-life balance seemed to be spiraling out of control, I began to redefine what I need to be successful. If I didn't, I would (still might) assume the fetal position and give up on teaching. (It's been a year.) Here's what I decided:

Students will not be my priority; I will be. (I think I just heard a collective gasp and a few coffee mugs shatter from the shock.)

Allow me to explain:

• I deserve a good night's rest.
• I deserve a fun evening at least twice a week.
• I deserve the right to attend Sunday worship without the guilt of my to-do list.
• I deserve a decent meal daily.

I had not gotten any of those things since school started; I need them to have balance...and you do, too.

For the First Time in Forever...

I firmly believe in the phrase "If you can't say something nice, be quiet" so that's exactly what I've been doing.

I've been busy conforming to a new guideline, boundary, or hidden rule on a daily basis and growing weary of fifteen hour days with little sense of accomplishment. It's been a rough year. I've repented of anytime I've ever thought I knew anything about teaching. I've especially repented of all the times I thought I had classroom management skills or could talk children into making the right choice.

I am missing my country teacher life with immense intensity these days. The days of me being able to make my own copies are gone, along with conference planning times to shut the door and get down to business.

However, I felt a load off my shoulders today. I finally said it.

"We could use our time much more efficiently and effectively if we had a Google doc which could be updated live."

For the first time in forever, I'm beginning to feel like me again.

Cheers to efficiency, teachers!

The Adventures of a Tiny Teacher #1

It was early December. I was living in my parents RV. The weather had reached seventeen degrees Fahrenheit. The propane had run out in the night (no wonder I was so cold and couldn’t pull myself from the covers) and the water had frozen in the water hose.

I stared at my overnight bag, half-packed from the weekend before, I thought "Ok, I'll call Kelly and run over to her place to take a shower. No, I've got to be at school in twenty minutes. I'll grab the bag and get ready at school. Why? It's not like you're going to have a shower there?" I pulled on my nicest outfit I had packed. A wool plaid, black and white dress to be paired with a black turtle neck which I layered over my PJs because there was no way I was pulling any clothing off my body in those temperatures, put on my nicest pair of boots (the only ones tall enough to hide my PJ pant legs), donned my bright red dress coat, did the best I could with my hair and left for school.

I craved the feeling of heat in my car. I had a 7 minute drive and knew only the last two would have any amount of remote heat. I felt sick and prayed that I wouldn't get anymore nauseous than I already was. The smell of fertilizer plants and cow feed in the morning always made me queasy; the violent cold wasn’t helping either.

Upon arriving, I felt immediate warmth of the hallway. Then I went to my classroom only to be greeted with bitter cold. The heater for my side of the hallway did not work. I'll handle this. By mid-morning, I was debating if I would feign illness, rent a hotel room for the day/night to get warm, or if I would be moving my classes to the library. I froze. My children worked with coats, scarves, hats, gloves. We were cold. In small groups, we would hover around my table underneath which I had placed a small space heater. I was not sure if I could have one, but at this point, I decided begging for forgiveness was favorable to asking for permission.

On the way to work that morning, I had texted a friend from church to see which men in the church worked in a nearby town to see if they could help me. My friend responded with a list of names. I proceeded to text or call each family. I was greeted with the same message. "He's not working today; He's sleeping; etc." Essentially, the answer was no, please do this on your own. I smiled back tears and pretended it was no big deal. I couldn't help but feel that if those ladies or their daughters had been living in an RV for months and had run out of propane and weren't strong enough to lift the propane bottle that somebody would help them out. I had never felt more alone. I wanted to screech out my frustration, but opted to err on the safe side.

When my lunch break arrived, I left campus with notice to the secretary that I might be gone my conference as well. I silently wondered if the heater in my classroom still wasn't working that afternoon, if I would be bursting into the old country song “Take This Job and Shove It." Reminding myself that you should never think angry thoughts or they could manifest when very inconvenient, I drove back to the RV for one last try. No luck.

As I was driving back into town feeling like an epic failure, I called my brother. I couldn't call my daddy. As much as I knew my daddy loved me, I knew there would be a million questions asked and I didn't really feel like answering them and definitely didn't have the time. Besides, it would require a vacation day and at least six hours of travel for him to come to my rescue. I knew he would do it, but would be troubled at the situation. By the time he got there, the only place in town that sold propane would be closed. My brother on the other hand could listen to me cry, feel sorry for me, then tell me to suck it up and do it. He gave simple instructions, “Find an Aggie and hold the ol’ Aggie Network over them.”

I tried to think who locally was an Aggie. I recalled a visit with the lady who had the frame shop; her husband and boy(s) were Aggies. Surely, they could help me. I walked in and tried to calmly tell her my story. I paused midway because I was about to lose it. I am usually quite stoic when I am frustrated, but the cold was getting to me, and the fact that I had five hours (four of which would be spent at my freezing work place) to resolve it or I would be sleeping in the cold again was sorely grating at my nerves.

I asked if her husband or sons would be willing to help me; I would pay them to take care of it. I wasn’t asking for a handout. She nodded sympathetically and referred me to someone in town who she thought might do a favor for someone. (Are you kidding me? A favor? It’s not a favor when I’m willing to hand you green backs.) I left the store in search of the business she had suggested.

I located the building in town and opened my door. As I put my feet down, I felt the all too familiar feeling. Gravel. I was in $400 leather Vanelli boots and here I was about to go traipsing through an oil and gas warehouse and would have to walk in gravel. As I carefully walked through the gravel, the cold stinging my face, I glanced around to see if Ashton Kutcher’s Punked show was around because it really couldn’t get any more absurd.

As I climbed the huge homemade stairs, I yelled with all the fake confidence I could muster “Hello! I’m looking for John! Is anyone here?” I found my way to an office of sorts and began to explain (plead) my case. Fortunately, the man working there took pity on me and said that he would take care of it.

He agreed to help, I handed him my keys to the RV. What could he possibly take of value at this point?

I returned to school just in time to pick my students up for recess. I chatted casually with the teachers. I finally let my curiosity emerge. I asked “What do y’all know about ol John that works out at ________?” The teachers quickly informed me he was married, that I should look elsewhere, and that it was none of my business. I simply replied, “Well, I just handed him the keys to my RV; it better be my business.”

At the end of the school day, I stopped by the business, paid the tab, and profusely thanked them for the assistance.

While it’s somewhat of an anti-climactic ending, I still can’t help myself from wondering if that really happened. It sounds like a terrible dream, but it was my reality.

Thankful

Sweaty, sticky, and exhausting. Those are the words that I would use to describe moving into your classroom. However, in the midst of the back to school August heat, I am extraordinarily thankful for many things this year as I begin teaching. Topping the list today...

1) A beautiful, clean, modern school
2) Close proximity to retail locations that will indulge my whim of lime green burlap
3) Pristine air conditioning...nice and cool, baby!
4) An amazing support system

As you begin your back to school adventure, find three things to be thankful for. It's okay if they're silly; life can still be silly in August. What's making the charts for you today?

A New Adventure

Type. Type. Type. Back space........Type Type Type......Backspace. Type....Backspace.

This is what I've done for the last twenty minutes as I've prepared to enter the official world of blogging. The more daunting task is that I am choosing to write for an audience of teachers. If you didn't know, they tend to be critical; silently correcting all of your grammar mistakes in their heads, sighing at the misuse of there, they're, and their. I know because I am one.

Deliberately moving that acute awareness aside, I am excited. I am beginning to share my teaching journey with others. In my world, there is a rule with teacher's children "If you're a first year teacher, keep your mouth shut; be a team player, be helpful, but don't be a doormat...and you'll be just fine." (Notice all of the "be" words in there?)

Well, I am now beginning my third year as an official school teacher. I feel it is safe(r) to share. I've learned a lot, but I am also quite content to admit that there is still much I have to learn. I've also learned that life is too wonderful not to think of it as an adventure; I believe in turning the mundane into something special.

I hope you enjoy this adventure with me.