Share

Yesterday we were all sitting in a circle doing some exciting Author Share. In walks our wonderful school social worker to deliver a note to a student and to observe a bit. After our author share, I reposition myself next to the student being observed, as I often do, to keep her active in our activity.

I began to explain to the class that we would be leaving soon to visit with our first grade buddies, which they all love. In fact, the student I had placed myself next to was so excited that she leaned on me, putting a hand on my leg and a hand on my back (we're criss-cross on the floor). Promptly after her "hug," she looks at me and whispers (think volume level of a game of tag at recess),

"I can feel your bra!"

In front of everyone. I quickly turn and whisper, "Please keep those thoughts in your head." In order to not draw attention.

She then leans forward to a friend across the circle and says,

"Psst, I can feel her bra!"

Then a boy on the other side of the circle yells out "That's gross!"

Later we had a private talk about appropriate comments, blah blah blah. I had to wait a bit for my face to return to normal shade.

I couldn't even make eye contact with the social worker or I'd share her response as well. Aw, well, that will just be something to laugh about during our meeting. Wonderful.

Intersession Recovery

I am currently recovering from 2 weeks of intersession with 1st and 2nd graders. About 25 of them. Two classes, one in the morning and another in the afternoon. Today I told my students, my fourth grade students, that I was so happy to be back in the classroom with them.

What did I find a new appreciation for? The fact that they try to at least hide the fact that they are picking their nose. And that they can tie their shoes. Or if not, they have moved on to velcro.

They look a foot taller and sound so much smarter than when I left them two weeks ago.

I will not complain about my wonderful fourth graders for at least a week.

I also have to say that my classroom is mighty lonely. I dropped down to 19 students today after getting used to 23. We added a new fourth grade classroom, and each class "donated" some students in order to populate the new class and lower our teacher-student ratio. Hooray. But in looking around my room today, "full" of students, I couldn't help but think "where is everyone?"

Home Visits

I have travelled back in time to the ways, the good old days and good old ways, of door to door service. One door is creaky, metal, and leads to my classroom... the other door is to the home of my student.

I have found that experiencing what is behind THEIR door is what makes what goes on behind mine that much more meaningful. When I can reach them by reminding them about what they learned in Karate in second grade - you know -when their dad made them go to karate and they hated it at first but then they loved it and learned how to become more assertive in a GOOD way... These are things that I learned around the coffee table with my student, and her family.

I drove up to my first home visit the other afternoon. I waited around school until about 6pm, then headed over to her house. THEIR house. I strolled up to the door, not knowing what to expect behind it, and a little uneasy. After all, it was my first trip to their house. I imagine it was how the student felt when she walked into my classroom for the first time.

I stayed there for an hour, lounging around the living room (no TV, this was the formal space in the house), and listened to how the parents have provided for their daughter and siblings in the last 10 years. The trip to Disney, the trip back to Panama to see family for the first time since they left, the karate, the soccer, and the questions about how to pay for college.

Yes. Their daughter is a fourth grader. She was born in the US, while her parents were not. They came to the country "to make family and get good jobs for our children" (the ones not yet born). I was energized by their questions, and so proud that they were already thinking about how and when to worry about college. I shared stories about my first time figuring it out, and how it was scary figuring out where all of that money was coming from. I laughed with them as they shared that they were shocked that I wasn't "a natural" in figuring out the college thing - and how hard it was for me to get through and finish. I hope, and I think, that some of what I shared put them at ease.

The parents also shared that they talk to their daughter, my student, telling her the dangers of drugs and alcohol. They were so open and honest with the student, and I hold it close to my heart that they shared those previous discussions with me.

I left the house feeling excited about the connections I could make with this student in class. How I could use what I know about her and her family to bridge our school world and her home world... extending the learning.

I gave my students the choice this year - home visit or school visit. I was curious to see how many families would choose the home visit if given a choice. So far I have four. Out of 19 families that have responded.

Next year I am not sure if I will give them a choice at first. I am realizing quickly what a hearty lifeline the home visits are to education.

Oh, and a mental note. Snacks are necessary if staying that late at school. I think my stomach rumbled right around minute 12. An uninvited guest.

Moments When Grading Pays Off 2

Grades are due this week. We just finished a unit in Social Studies (insert brow-wiping motion followed by a "phew"). So, like always, I have collected their notebooks/masterpieces in order to scrutinize and put a letter on an item that may or may not show actual learning or knowledge. But, in all of these long days of grading, there's bound to a needle in the haystack. And I believe, by golly, that I found it today. The instruction was to create a symbol for each product. This student chose to go a different route.

For a blast from the past, previous notebook grading produced this.

Shout Out

I was pulling out of the parking lot of school today when I saw a student, holding a skateboard, walking down the sidewalk with 2 of his friends. My window was down, so I stuck my arm out to wave furiously at this student, as he was in my class last year.

I shouted "HI, _____!!" out of the window.

He waved frantically back with a huge smile on his face. As I continued to drive off, he shouted "I GOT AN A ON MY SCIENCE TEST!!"

I, of course, shouted a response back. But no response could have expressed how proud of him I was. For the A. For making strides this year after a rough one last year (he lost his grandmother, and they were close). And for screaming it at the top of his lungs among his peers - which - at his age- sometimes takes more bravery than we know.

What She Said

We were at different meetings on the same topic in completely different schools. And yet, I could quote the same exact things. And instead of trying to say it better, I will just post a coworkers blog.

Find out what we did for 1.5 hours after school here.

Perhaps when I can speak about this experience without fuming, I will add my own 2 cents.

Atlantic City

I'm struggling with how to give this story it's appropriate voice - a voice to match the spontaneity of the conversation. But here it goes...

Today we were meeting with our first grade buddies for the second time this year. Knowing how my students have been behaving this week - I could only imagine trying to corral them into the building and all the way to the other side to reach the first grade classroom. Imagine 23 monkeys being led through a banana plant. Pure chaos. I decided to sit them down and give them a "talk."

I will spare the full transcript of the discussion. However, at one point I was explaining to them what they would be doing - decorating a shared notebook with their buddy - for future notes back and forth. One of my students - Super H (name he called himself in a story) - quietly raised his hand. Background on him: He's a bug saver. He goes through my trashcans at the end of the day to pull out all recyclables. Here he is at the end of today:

So, Super H raised his hand and asked if he could, on the notebook, draw a picture of a shark. Knowing that he's fascinated by sharks, and imagining a fourth grade boy's vision of a shark, I said it was fine as long as there was no blood and the shark wasn't eating anything, or anyONE. In which he replies "Sharks are the most MISUNDERSTOOD CREATURE! They are harmless." We calm down a bit and then I begin answering other random student questions. Then Super H raises his hand again and asks "What if I draw the shark in a feeding frenzy." Not knowing what to say, I put it out for the class with a swift "Discuss with the class how to make that school appropriate." Students practically jump at the chance to add their 2 cents - and hands shoot up all over the room. Super H calls on another student who said "What if your shark is eating HOT DOGS! YEAH!" And then the class claps at the idea. CLAPPING. I mean, I'm greatful for the support, but CLAPPING OVER sharks eating hot dogs.... hm...

So Super H strokes his chin... literally... and there's a hush over the crowd...

"Where would the hot dogs come from?" he finally says.

The boy next to him excitedly shouts out "ATLANTIC CITY!"

In which a large portion of my class echos in agreement. "Yeah! Atlantic City!"

I am not sure, but I'm pretty sure that my class went on a summer trip. And now they all have some inside joke about AC and hotdogs. I hate being left out.