I find that becoming a teacher never ends. There's always something to work on. In my case, the things I would like to improve are:
1. The amount of time I spend working outside of school hours
Because I have the same set of kids, last year's lessons won't do. Right now, I don't mind doing so much work because I know that the more structured the classes, the better the day. However, I would like to get planned out (to the nitty gritty) far enough in advance that I have more free time, or at least time enough to get my Ole Miss homework done.
2. My teaching methods
I do a lot of independent reading on how to teach reading to less-than-desirable middle schoolers, and it seems like there are many different ideas about how to approach this beast. I've tried out many ideas, but I want to keep exploring new ways to do it. Right now, I'm finding that even though students hate being pushed through a book, they enjoy the feeling of success when they're finished. My goal is to read 6 class books this year and to continue having silent reading on Thursdays. All of my students will have success in Accelerated Reader, and by the end of the year, they will have grown at least one reading level. That's what I've planned for, at least.
3. My grading practices
I hate grading things. I'm already a little bit behind. I want to set up a better schedule for my grading so that I do not have to have this feeling anymore.
4. Consistency in management
So far I've been doing okay. I just know that things are about to get tougher, once the students shed their first weeks cocoon and emerge as deformed butterflies. I just have to keep enforcing my expectations. I'm set up to do a better job of that this year; I just need to stay consistent. This might require being more stringent with my bedtime, as my sleep time often determines my mood and energy level.
I like to think of the second year of teaching as a second chance. And in my case, it's especially true, as I've looped up to the eighth grade with my same set of kids. These are what I've noticed are the biggest differences between the first first days and the second first days:
1. Being in the same school a second year is a blessed thing because no matter how disorganized or terrible your school/administration is in the first few days, you at least know what to expect. Last year, holding my homeroom all day was miserable. I was not prepared, I had no idea how to walk students in a line, and I knew nothing about what my administration expected of me. This year, I had a clear plan that could last the entire day, no jitters in my stomach, and so many word searches copied that my kids could never get bored.
2. Knowing what you want comes with experience. Last year, I rolled in with my snazzy classroom management plan and took a couple of days to set up my room before school started. Shows how little did I knew. Turns out that the way you organize your classroom management plan MUST match the way you organize your room. Things in my room last year were disorganized and unclear, and as a result, I spent most of my time trying to find where I put my clipboard. I didn't know what I expected of the kids, and they could read it all over my face. Now, however, I know what I want. My room is impeccable (the result of two weeks work). A weekly calendar of all assignments is posted (evidence that I'm planned out unlike last year). All handouts for the week are made available to the students starting Monday (a broken copier won't stop me). My classroom library is organized. The routine is simple and cyclical. The children ask so few questions of me this year because there's no need to ask questions; the very walls around them tell them what to do.
3. It pays to plan ahead. Last year, I had no idea how to plan for a year, let alone a couple of weeks. This year, I already have my year mapped out. I'm at least two weeks ahead on lesson plans. And I've been making/copying resources at least a week and a half ahead (hopefully that will become two weeks). I've found that because I have clear expectations for each class period, the work is getting done AND there are fewer management problems.
4. Power trips do not equal good discipline. Last year I tried to pull the bitch card and run a highly emotional discipline show. FAIL! This year, nothing the students do gets to me. I just discipline them. My cheeks do not turn red. I do not scream. My eyes do not bug out. I do not slouch my shoulders. I try, as much as possible, to punish in private and praise in public. If I give an ultimatum (bad idea anyway), I follow through with it. And the best thing about it is I know that it's only August and that the kids are gonna continue turning up the heat. I know that. Last year, I did not, and they took me completely by surprise.
I know that the second year is not going to be easy all the time. Heck, it's not even easy now, just less frustrating and stressful. I'm just amazed, though, at what a difference a year makes. It feels good to know that even though I have the same kids, the situation can be turned around. Hopefully I can make up for last years mess with these kids.
Success Story. Describe, in detail, a success story from your first year of teaching.
I feel like this is such a loaded prompt. If you downplay your success in the classroom you come off sounding like you had a horrible year. However, if you aggrandize your little accomplishments you sound like a total tool. Yeesh, I guess the reality of the situation is that I fall somewhere in between. I think that's the case with most people. The unfortunate thing about most of our successes, though, comes from the fact that these stories are so embedded in the teachers and not the students. I look back at the moments where kids praised what I was doing and I think, "There, that's success." Talk about selfishness. That moment had nothing to do with the students and everything to do with me. So I've been racking my brain to find some evidence of student growth that had nothing to do with kids complimenting me, giving me pictures, or simply telling me they were learning something. In all honesty, I came up with nothing. I guess I attached too much of my success to how I felt my kids felt, something I definitely want to change next year. So I had to settle on the two things for which I'm most proud:
1. Toward the end of the year, I had a bell ringer that asked my students to describe how they thought they'd changed over the year or how they felt they were different from last year. I'd asked them to complete this assignment shortly after I'd received news that I was going to be moving up to 8th grade with them because I realized I was going to have the privilege of seeing my kids develop through two of the most tumultuous years of their life. All of the sudden, I was so curious to know how they felt they'd changed already. Anyway, I thought I was going to get a lot of answers about getting taller, getting boyfriends and girlfriends, or becoming cooler. Social stuff. Topics of this nature tended to dominate their writing, and I expected this to be the same. I ended up being surprised by most of the answers because more times than not, the changes had something to do with academics. There were two answers that humbled me more than the others because they were from two of my favorite students, Nolean and Allison. Both of them claimed that they read more these days than they did before. Now, I do have to give some credit to Stephenie Meyer and her Twilight series for being a big hit with my kiddos, but I feel that in some small way I had something to do with it too. Though I can't say I had the best lessons or the most structured room, I can say that I showed enthusiasm for books. I tried to fill my room with books, I read aloud to my kids constantly, and I really pushed my advanced classes by making them read The Giver, Walk Two Moons, and The Diary of Anne Frank. I think I might have gotten a few students to read a little more than they usually did, and the fact that two of my most beloved students seemed to agree gave me one of the few gratifying experiences during my year. As cheesy as it sounds, those bell ringers couldn't have come at a better time, as I almost ended the year feeling too down on myself for my performance.
2. My second success was simple: I did not quit. Towards March and April, I gave considerable thought to quitting the program because I was sad most of the time, lethargic/unhealthy, and felt I was making no contribution to education at all. My mom was really worried about me and begged me to just come home, so I looked at teacher vacancies nearly every night on the internet. She kept telling me that I had changed into a person that she didn't recognize. And I knew exactly what she meant. The only thing that kept me going was the promise that I might get to teach alongside Funt in the 8th grade the next year. I don't know what I would have done without Funt, Hayman, Brin, and Goldwasser around to be my cheerleaders. If not for them, I don't think I would have had any motivation to get out of bed in the morning. Most other people just seemed to assume that I was doing fine, but nothing could be farther from the truth. In the end, I stuck it out, and I'm glad I did. Looking back, things weren't really that bad. Nothing was more than I could handle at any given time. I think I was just exhausted and disappointed in myself. A daily dose of that can really stifle a person. When I think about this measly little success, I'm reminded of Parks' story about the little girl/boy saving starfish one by one on the beach, even though the task is monumental. I can hear him saying, "But I saved that one. But I saved that one." Well, I can't say that I really saved any. But I CAN say that I'm still on the beach. That counts for a lot in my book.
Failure story. Describe, in detail, an event, student, experience, etc. during the year where you failed.
If there's one thing I feel I've made abundantly clear, both through my blogs and through my conversations with other MTC teachers, it's that I have had a year chock full of failure. The idea of narrowing it down any further almost seems too impossible to me. But so many people have already said that. And in a way, I guess we feel like we're supposed to say it. It follows tradition.
I get the feeling, though, that our prompt, as shown above, wanted more than my usual whiny blog about how poorly I did this year. So I started thinking about all of my failures and what I feel caused them. While I've given this speech to lots of my peers already, it never hurts to share my insights on a grander scale (I guess).
The first thing you need to do is get a clear picture of my failure, and there's no clearer way to see it than through the face of Tasha B., one of my fourth period students. This is Tasha, in the arms of one of my goofiest students:
Now image her telling you both verbally and through a written evaluation that you were weak and needed to take control of your room. Yeah. That's how I know I failed. You can't argue with evidence like that. I knew she was right, and until very recently when I began reflecting over my past year, I didn't really know why she was right.
Here's what I decided, and I think I'm right. Maybe. Looking back at my journey through a first year of teaching, the one thing I lacked more than anything else in the world was the realization that I am an adult. My first few months of teaching made this obvious. Every day that I showed up to work, I felt like I was dressed in a Halloween costume, a child parading around as a teacher. This caused me to shy away from calling parents, as I felt I had no legitimacy to tell these parents anything negative about their kids, and it kept me from thinking about what I wanted to see my kids do. That might seem minor, but if you don't know what you expect your kids to do, then you don't have expectations. If you don't have expectations, then no expectations are communicated to the kids. If this doesn't happen, then the students get the idea that nothing is expected of them. In turn, nothing happens. Except chaos. That's my point of failure. The real cherry on top is that if you don't realize that you're an adult, you also don't feel the need to enforce any of the consequences when the students fail to meet your non-existent expectations.
This has been my big revelation from the past year. I AM an adult. I pay my bills. I cook my meals. I clean up after myself. I make decisions. I have a degree. I have a job. And on and on and on. I am the adult in the room. I didn't realize that coming out of college because for 100% of my life my problems were taken care of for me by my parents and most everything in my life was paid for with minimal work on my part. And now that I've been forced to realize that, by both my failure and the very adult experiences I had to deal with this year, I feel like I know why things went awry this year. I was a pansy ass.
That's not to say my generally soft personality must be masked in the classroom. Only a real adult can be both themselves and an authority figure. The adult Ms. Hill doesn't have to change who she is; as a matter of fact, the adult Ms. Hill is so confident about herself that authority comes naturally instead of forced. The adult Ms. Hill doesn't seek approval from middle schoolers because she knows that these kids don't even know what they need. The adult Ms. Hill doesn't shy away from correcting students because she knows that really caring for a students means knowing when to provide boundaries.
My failure stemmed from the fact that I needed to grow up. And I think this year has taken care of a lot of that. That's not to say that I don't still have a lot of growing up to do. One year of teaching is just a drop in the bucket, and I have lots more life experience to gain before I have everything perfect. I just feel like when I return to Tasha in the fall I will have more confidence in being who I am and being the adult in the classroom. Hopefully, I won't let her down as tremendously as I did this year. That's my goal.
After a year of struggling, there are numerous things I want to work on/change about the way I teach. The three things that I feel will help me most next year, however, are not necessarily things I can implement fully during summer school. I'm hoping to try out some new stuff during summer school and spend my free time thinking through some of my classroom snafus.
The Three things I need to work on:
1. Classroom Management
Managing a classroom was one of my biggest challenges this year because I think I had an entirely wrong idea of how to do it well. I thought managing a classroom meant being the biggest witch on the planet. When that didn't work, I became a bunny rabbit. What I'm finding is that classroom management starts first with being yourself and yet being confident and assertive. You have to know you're the adult in the classroom. But that doesn't mean you have to sacrifice your own personality. This balance has been difficult for me to figure out, and even though summer school kids are angels (usually) compared to kids during the actual school year, I feel like this is something I can work on a little as I teach my lessons this summer. I'm looking forward to this second chance to set up a classroom so I can do a better job of being a confident version of myself.
2. Organization
One thing that will make my teaching life a lot easier is streamlining my organization. I went into the school year with an organization plan that just didn't fit my energy level or school/classroom. Now that I know how my school works and since I'll be teaching the same set of kiddos, I feel better about my ability to create classroom organization and documentation systems that actually work.
3. Reading Instruction
A huge challenge this year was trying to teach literary skills to a bunch of kids who can hardly read. Since I'm the reading teacher, I feel like it is my responsibility to at least try and help those students who need basic reading instruction or phonetic help. I've been doing a lot of research on how to teach reading and how to handle differentiated instruction, but I'm not sure what will work best for my kids. Plus, I want to give my students more time in class to read books on their reading level, but I'm still trying to decide what incentives/grading system will make that work best. We're reading The Giver with our summer school class, so I'm planning to do some experimentation with literature circles and the like.
ONE thing I do well:
I'm flexible. I don't mind changing what's not working, and I don't mind researching things to make my instruction better. I guess that's worth something.
Many of the ideas for my school district came from the things I both like and dislike about the school in which I now teach and the school I attended as a child. One thing I dislike about both is how disharmonious they are with the surrounding communities and how separate school life seems from everyday life. I love that my childhood school gave students many opportunities for freedom, and I get sick to my stomach when I consider how limited my own students' choices are. I feel like my students never had the chance to develop decision-making skills, self-motivation, or mutual respect because of the way they have been treated at school. Therefore, I tried to create an environment that promotes student freedom, both inside and outside the classroom. I wanted a school that values child and adult literacy (the reading teacher in me, I guess). I made the school a resource for the community, and I tried to give students a feeling of responsibility for that community. Finally, I tried to make school life more cyclical. I envisioned a calendar and daily schedule that gives learning a natural feel, so that instead of counting down the days to summer vacation, students could view school as a life-long, very personal process. While my school district has obvious flaws, I am proud that it does not shy away from giving students accountability. I sometimes wonder how much students could achieve if they felt any sort of ownership over what they learned. This design stems from that basic question.
Here's my school district:
http://hayley-sr3zo.posterous.com/
Hope you like it!
...well, swine flu.
On a more serious note, if I were in charge my school and there had been incidents of swine flu, I don't think I would do much more than send a few Get Well Soon cards and some balloons. I feel like this would be the necessary reaction, especially if my school was in the midst of state testing or final athletic events, From the bit of research I have done, swine flu is no more dangerous than the regular flu, providing you have access to decent medical care. I understand that many of the students in my school are poor and may not have that access, but I honestly don't think staying at home would help the situation. Such a situation reminds me of the way my students react in the gym every morning if they hear a loud noise. One kid screams, then they all scream, and then they all stand up and start looking for the fight. Inevitably, this results in the student who first screamed pointing at everyone with raucous, you-feelin-it laughter. Then everybody else laughs. That's kind of what I imagine canceling school for the swine flu would be like. Besides, if heading off the spread of swine flu means keeping students out of dirty, crowded spaces, then many of my students would be safer at school than at home.
It's hard to believe that you're almost done with the program and that I'm almost finished with my first year. I remember seeing you all for the first time and getting the impression that teaching was a snap. You seemed so confident and at ease. Now that I'm about to be in your place, I want to ask you something. How in the world did you manage to pull off the whole confidence and ease gag? Not that you guys aren't amazing, but now that I'm about to take your place, I see how helpless you can still feel after teaching for a whole year (not that a year is a long time in the scheme of things). I'm still looking for answers, and I now realize that you must have been as well. I can't imagine what the new crop of second-years will see when they look at me; hopefully I'll be able to give them the same comfort that you gave me.
There is one thing that I think makes your class different from mine that I want to say thank you for. You guys were completely honest, almost to the point of being too graphic. I was shaking in my little closed-toe shoes by the end of the summer, what with hearing your personal stories and reading old blog entries and all. Thank you. You guys weren't lying about how dreadfully painful and terrible teaching can be. It sucks most days. Because you let it all hang out, I didn't feel the need to bottle it all up. Because you admitted that you did a bad job most of the time, I can admit that I'm doing a bad job every second of every day. And for someone like me, that means the world. To know that I'm not alone in misery gives me hope that I'm not a complete failure, that I can do a better job next year. So even though your failures sucked for you, thanks for having them so that I didn't have to feel like the only one.
There are a few special individuals who deserve my sincerest gratitude:
The people I rarely got to see but really admired, Angela, Karl, Peter M., and Heather. You are the people that bring a smile to my face, even though I seldom had the opportunity to see you. Angela, you share my love of Arrested Development, and riding back from Jackson with you provided me with one of the best, most encouraging conversations of my time in MTC. Karl, you're.....just so lovable. I'm no even sure there's a specific reason for why I like you so much. I just do. Peter, you never seemed bothered by how much I hate people. Maybe I'll see you in D.C. again someday. Heather, I'll never forget the first thing you said to me, when I asked how you liked the program. You said, "No, I hated it." Wow. I couldn't have had a better summer roommate. You were honest and helpful. Thank you!
My Second-Years, Cary and Austin. You guys were amazing. You taught me how to teach, you showed me two different energies in the classroom (and how they're both necessary), you gave me encouraging advice, and you made me do a lot of work on my own. Those things made the difference. When I think back to our classroom, I'm amazed at how great it was, how smoothly it ran. I know that that's because of your leadership. You guys created the perfect yin and yang for our team, so I'm grateful to you for being yourselves. Thursday night dinners were the highlight of my summer.
My mentor, Michele. You are the most organized and creative person in the world, and I have only benefited from it. Thank you for all the millions of resources, classroom ideas, and management tricks. And thanks for being my friend. The Delta drives, photography trip, delicious meals, and great conversations were so encouraging. I am also thankful to have met your daughter, who is just as intelligent and interesting as her mother. I never dreamed that I would find an art friend in the program, much less someone who also teaches literature. Being your mentee has been the greatest privilege a first-year could have.
My fellow Byhalia Indians (and friends), Molly and Sam. It's funny to think that I'd never really known any Jews until MTC and then you two become my closest friends (even though you're only half a Jew, Sam). All I can think to say for myself is MOZEL TOV! Good fortune, indeed! Molly, thank you for having the energy and positivity that I don't. You cleaned up after me (ahem, ahem), you made copies for me, you took in sub stuff, you listened to me vent, you made me be positive, you made me cookies, you made me be a little social, and so much more. I know that wherever you end up next year, you will be fine because you have a way gliding through the messiest situations in life with the poise and grace that only a southern woman can.
Sam, the only thing you're good for is Brin. She is gorgeous and interesting, and I feel complete when I stare into her big brown eyes. Okay, so maybe Brin is the best dog in the world, but she's not the only good thing about you. You're pretty great, too. Thank you for leaving all those piles of worksheets in my classroom; I use them almost every day now. Thank you for telling me over and over again that your first year sucked worse than mine; the goodness of your second year helps me know that I will get better at this. Thank you for taking me to Costco; those hot dogs, chocolate cakes, and random other moderately priced goods have changed my life. Thank you for all the fun we had hanging out with the pack; those laid back moments helped me through the worst of it. Thank you for laughing at our kids with me; you helped me see the good in them when all I wanted to see was the bad. It has been so much fun teaching these 7th grade fools with you. We laughed, you watched me cry. That'll do, pig, that'll do.
...and this is all that I could find.
This is the honest-to-God's truth about what it's like to be a student in my classroom. These students did not lie, brown nose, exaggerate based on their current mood, or blow off this bell ringer in any way. I picked out my favorites. Here they are:
"Ms. Hill is a good teacher cause I get away with a lot of things."
"Fun because of the games. Sleepy because we don't do much. And quick. Interesting cause she don't yell much. That is all I can say about Ms. Hill's class."
"In Ms. Hill's class it is borin, bu sometimes fun. We don't do anything but read."
"To be a student in Ms. Hill's class is sometimes like being in a playground because we never do anything."
"It fells very different, because you are young, and the sane age a my brother. Sometimes wehave fun in here, and laugh. but most of the time we do work, and it is hard."
"What is it like to be a student in Ms. Hill Class, well, it is fun, learnable, and teachable. How is it fun, well we do fun activities like all around the world and jeopardy and more. We learn new things in class, too. And sometime she teach us things."
"I feel weird because I can barely understand english and besides these kids dont' let me hear and I hope that stops soon this is I like to be in this class, I want."
"it feels good because your a kid and there's a woman in here and she teaches very good in class and she's very nice as a teacher she teaches and helps others and thats how it's like to be in Ms. Hill's class."
"Ms. Hill is real mean at times when you make her mad. When you good she is nice."
"It is like when I do my work you don't put a grade and I get mad at you. Then when I ask you a question you yell and try to get a little attitude and that's why I don't like to ask you question."
"Your class is dispicible and horrid. I can't stand you class. It is like ugh I just can't stand it. it is gay, to. April Fools."
"Being in Ms. Hill's class is fun and interesting. I like how you read the books with action and emotion. Sometimes I hate that they don't put attension in class and disrupped our class. I know that if the kids would lisen to you and have respec for you the class would love you more. I love to read book so I like this class and I feel pretty good. Sometimes though when you sit down and don't talk alot about the lesson then I feel like I' am not learning anything."
