little failures September 30, 2008

 

There were five adults in my room today. 

1. the school psychologist had his hands full with Max
2. Nan had her hands full with David
3. my college volunteer had her hands full with the Spanish-speaking kids
4. my new assistant had her hands full just trying to get to know the class, the room, the kids, the job, and trying to run an art project
5. and I had my hands full with trying to simultaneously keep an eye on everything and assess kids one-on-one for the parent conferences….

…So no one noticed when Leo, over in the reading corner, wrapped the cord of my electric pencil sharpener around his neck, thus bringing the thing down on his head, where it came apart and sent pencil shavings all over him. 

Poor child didn’t know what to do, so he sat there quietly until Nan, horrified, noticed what had happened.  (Thank goodness he was entirely unhurt.)

Nan and the assistant cleaned him up and he is fine.  But I feel terrible.  Did I say I was a good teacher?  I am having little failures all over the place!

little mysteries September 29, 2008

Lola went to art today, on Black Day, to draw pictures with white crayon on black paper.  I had stencils for city buildings with window cutouts, so she made a lovely picture with lots of buildings.  Then she cut it into lots of small pieces.

Was this frustration?  Boredom?  The joy of cutting paper?  I have no idea.  I can’t speak Spanish and she can’t speak English.  I wished I had the time to get an interpreter, but this was right after David had been carried from the room and kicked Alice in the head on the way out, and I just couldn’t take the time.

Speaking of Alice (named for Alice the Fairy),  she said, “hey, he kicked me!” and then continued making her night time picture.  When it was clean up time I found her at the sink washing glue off her hands and then saw that at her place at the art table there was a huge puddle of white glue.

So Alice, who too had made a lovely night-time city picture, not only also took scissors and cut it up, but she then took glue and poured it all over her picture.  And the table. 

I had her dry her hands, then had her clean the table, and then modeled with scrap paper how to use the glue with just little dots (she speaks some English, but I said “Chiquita!” and hoped that made sense).  I may have called myself a good teacher in my last post, but at this point in the morning I was unable to keep the exasperation out of my voice.

I wish I had been at the art table with the girls to watch them make their pictures, and to help them, and talk to them.

Instead I was doing assessments to get ready for conferences.  With the David chaos I’m a week behind, at least. 

Note to self:  when things calm down, hang out at art with Lola and Alice.

being nice September 29, 2008

Our school psychologist, one of the many people who helped make the decision on David’s placement, stopped by today after the children left to see how things were going.  It was a rough morning, of course, with Nan having to give David and Max all of her attention and skills.  She was amazing, and they made it through, but David threw stuff, kicked a girl, kicked Nan, tried to kick me, and missed all of morning meeting and story time.  Max had several meltdowns and spent a lot of time with Nan out in the hall talking about all the things of which he is afraid.

(After she had to carry him on the bus because he was afraid to get on, she told me, “I’m not sure he’s going to make it in our classroom, either.”)

Anyway, the psychologist is supposed to be working at another school tomorrow, but he said that things were mellow over there and we needed him more, so he changed his schedule so he could be in my room to help me and Nan tomorrow.

I drove home marveling about that.  School psychologists don’t usually spend a ton of time in classrooms, and I’ve never known one to change his schedule to do so.  I don’t think he would extend himself to help me if he didn’t think I was worth helping.  And I’m guessing he’s willing to help me because I’m nice, and I’m good at what I do.

Sometimes when you’re nice to people, they are nice to you.

Oh yeah, when I went to my children’s school to pick them up, I bumped into a former student and her aunt, who raved about what a wonderful teacher I was.  That really made my day.  And it made me think, I’m proud of my reputation, and it’s something I need to nurture and protect by going to work every single day and being the very best teacher I can be.

light at the end of the tunnel September 28, 2008

The worst is behind me.  I’m pretty sure about that.

• This week is a short week, to fit in parent conferences.  That always helps.
• I will finally have an assistant teacher — hooray!  She starts Tuesday, and I can’t wait.  She was so awesome in the interview the Prince kept sending me these looks saying, “let’s hire her on the spot!” and I kept sending him back looks that said, “Let’s have some decorum here, and wait until we’re finished interviewing candidates before we hire her, okay?”
• The weather is getting colder.  That makes me happy because I usually love fall, and I definitely am done with warm weather.  I want to dig out my pretty sweaters and my flannel sheets and wrap up in a blanket while I’m watching my child do sports….And I am loving the fall colors that have begun to pop up here and there.
• David will be going in a week to a classroom where he can be successful.  He has been experiencing so much failure in my classroom that I know it has been awful for him.  I will just love him while he’s with us, and send him off with good will.  I’m also going to write a note to his guardian to let her know what a wonderful job I think she is doing with him.
• Lola 2 turns out to speak English pretty well, as does the other new girl, and the new boy went from being utterly unable to sit on his bottom or cross his legs to sitting properly and attending to every word I said by the end of the week.
• Leo’s mom sent me an email saying how surprised she has been by how good the transition has been for him, and that she can tell each day that he is learning new things.  He has been happy because Miss Nelson and Nan have been reading him pirate books.  I think I’ll make a genre basket of pirate books for our reading center so he can read them whenever he wants.
• Elephant & Piggie were a huge success.  I had a blast reading them (I really get into the voices and doing facial expressions), and the children were delighted by the twosome’s adventures.  I will not be happy until I own every single E & P book.  (Now if Scholastic would quick make them all available in the book orders so I can buy them at affordable prices!)

the result of the meeting this morning September 26, 2008

David will go to another school, to a classroom better suited to his needs.  I learned some things about his personal life, and felt like crying.  I feel like crying anyway, since I was unable to help him, and it will hurt him to have to leave us.

But I know it’s the right thing.

life on the rollercoaster September 24, 2008

Anyone reading this who is already a teacher (I know I have some fledgling teachers reading this blog, as well as some non-teachers) knows what teaching is like.  Teachers are well-acquainted with the experiences of being bombarded by stimuli all day, of needing to think of 100 things at a time, and having to make decisions constantly. 

So teachers, you can skip today’s post.  You’ve been there, done that.  This is for the non-teachers.

Today was a better day, because David was not there, and Max had had a long talk about his behavior with his parents, and was determined to do better.  But it was still hard, so here, in list form, are just some of the things that I was juggling this morning:

• Driving into parking lot, see school psychologist driving out.  Stop and roll down window.  Ask him if he heard about what happened yesterday.  He says no, so I tell him, and then he says he is working on finding a different placement for David.  I park my car with sense of relief that I am being taken seriously.
• Go to yet another meeting before school, this time for the mentoring leadership team’s weekly gathering.  I have become the unofficial timekeeper, and as such, try to steer discussions back on track, to keep us moving through the agenda, and to help find conclusions and consensus on each item.  I am praised for that by a colleague, which I really appreciate, although I admit to him, “I know that what this really means is that I’m bossy!”
• Find kindergarten teacher whose room I’m supposed to visit during my prep, and ask her if I can bow out, even though I have just seen note from her asking me to read a story to class when I arrive as she has laryngitis.  Bow and scrape and apologize for not coming.  She is very nice about it, and sympathetic to my description of my room being “in freefall.”  Listen to her scratchy voice.  Feel guilty.
• Return to the classroom to find both Nan and Miss Nelson, and a stranger (Miss Nelson’s mentor).  Introduce myself to stranger, who is sitting at my desk, using my computer, so I cannot.  Damn, can’t check email.  Very little time to talk to them or get the room ready before I opening the door to the children.
• Greet two more new students (that’s three this week, and four since last week), both girls, only one of whom speaks English.  Beg the social worker to help, but she can’t, so her intern comes into the room to help children sign in and move their nametags.
• Oops, nametags in the wrong place!  Rush over and move them.
• Note that sign-in line is not moving.  See that Boy A is standing there with pencil hovering over sign-in book, frozen.  Intern does not know what to do.  Tell Boy A to make a mark, any mark, which he does, and usher him to move his nametag to “Who’s Here?”
• Find pencil to get next child in line to sign in.
• Take new girls to hall to find their cubbies.  See that only one has a cubby.
• Go into room to get new cubby sign, write new girl’s name on it, help her find cubby and tape her sign in place.
• Note that we have two minutes to get to Gym.  Turn off lights, say, “One, Two, Three, Freeze!” and explain to new girls how to freeze, cross arms, and look at me for directions.  Tell class it’s time to go.
• Turn on lights, line up children alphabetically, finding spaces for new girls.
• Downstairs meet gym teacher in cafeteria (gym is next to cafeteria), so warn him that there are new students, hand over class, and take one new girl to talk to Spanish-speaking teacher who is helping out with breakfast.  Ask, “could you ask her how to pronounce her name?”  Answer is inconclusive.
• Drop girl off in gym and go upstairs with Nan, who says she can help during prep.
• Sit down at desk (yay, she’s gone!) and feel unfamiliar sense of calm descend.  Am alone in room with Nan, my friend, who asks, “what can I do?”  Give Nan many many things to do. 
• Hour passes in a flash.  Cannot remember single thing that happens during prep.
• Pick up class in gym.  Find out that new girl says her name is Lola.  We already have a Lola!  Turns out her first name is name I was given, but family at home calls her Lola, her middle name.  Make mental note to find Spanish-speaking employee to call home to find out what we should call her at school.
• Back in room, children finish journals, but wander aimlessly when done.  Repeatedly give instructions to “find a book and sit down in your chair!”  Note that I never labeled the books on the shelf now that they are all books about color.  Wonder when I am going to find time to do that.
• Start writing morning message.  Get interrupted several times. 
• “Teacher, the bug is back!”  Go over to terrarium to see one sowbug.  Notice that he is not moving, and hope that he is alive but just resting.  Try to write morning message.  Give up halfway through.
• Start cleanup time.  Get frustrated with children visiting the sowbug instead of cleaning up and coming to sit down.
• Boy B and Boy C, who were fighting over Superhero ABC earlier, are now fighting over Knuffle Bunny.
• Horrible tearing sound as Knuffle Bunny gets torn in two.
• Feel like crying or yelling.  Do neither, but cannot help sounding mad.  Boy C starts to wail.  Send both boys into hall with Nan to discuss situation.  Make note to self ask Spanish speaker to call Boy B’s mother to tell her what happened and ask for $2 to help cover cost.  Make note to self to call Boy C’s mother and tell her same thing.  Make note to self to order new copy of Knuffle Bunny from Scholastic book order.  Which reminds me I haven’t sent in payment for September order, so make note to self to do that.  Soon.
• Start morning meeting without being ready.
• Find out during playing of song about colors (from math curriculum) that boom box is dying.  Instead of loving the song, everyone cringes with weird noises cd player makes.  Make note to self to buy new boom box.  Or try to play cd on computer.  Remember time last year when I tried to do that and computer would not eject cd.  Give up train of thought and move on to next thing.

I think I’ll stop there, although that recounting does not include Max’s anger at having to go with the physical therapist and how he picked up a brick in a threatening way, or how he knocked over a bunch of stuff when sent to time out later on, or what happened during centers time, or story time, or dismissal, or how I made it to the office with a list of three Spanish-speaking families to call for different reasons.

I will say this.  I dug out My Friend is Sad, by my buddy Mo Willems, and read it at story time with great enthusiasm.  So we did end on a happy note.  The children laughed, and I smiled, and then I sent them home.

Today’s development September 23, 2008

David kicked Max in the face as hard as he could, twice.  Nan managed to grab him as he was trying for a third attempt.

He has been suspended and won’t be back until Thursday.

We are having a meeting to discuss the situation on Friday morning, and I am going to ask the team (psychologist, social worker, etc.), “at what point do we decide he’s not going to be in this classroom anymore?”

Nan, sweet Nan, said this was the worst morning we’ve ever had.

The only good thing to come from it was we made a kickass BLUE collage.

Wahhhh! September 22, 2008

Alas, it was another difficult morning.

Most of the hour I had before school started I was at a tech meeting in the computer lab, where we learned how to do a behavior screener on each child.  I got all mine done — which was good — but only with lots of technical glitches, which was not so good.  Everyone on the staff is frustrated, because the tech people at the district level instituted a lot of changes which have made using our computers an exercise in frustration, or even rage.  I doubt that the district techies made the changes in order to make our lives harder, but that is the end result, and they have been ignoring our media specialist, who keeps going to them with all the problems we’re having.

One teacher stood up and made an impassioned plea to all of us to document our struggles in letter form, and turn them in for the media specialist to take to her meeting at the district level later this week.  Hooray!  So even though I had a ton to do back in my room, I sat down and wrote furiously.

I was finishing up my letter when an assistant teacher came in with his son, whose first day was today.  I greeted them warmly, but I was thinking, “Ack!  I’ve only got ten minutes before I have to open the door!”  I asked them if they wouldn’t mind waiting in the hall, and then ran around the room setting out journals and pencils and crayons.

Arrival time went fine, although the new boy was confused and needed my help to figure out our routines, and one boy was back after a week’s absence and didn’t know about the journals.  (He was out recovering from having his appendix removed.  His sister brought him to me, showed me the bandage on his abdomen, and said, “nobody can punch him in the stomach,” and I said, “of course not,” but inside I was thinking, “how am I going to keep this kid safe?!”)

About five kids were wearing red for our celebration of Red Day, which was kind of disappointing.  I think a lot of the parents are not reading my newsletter.  Perhaps they don’t even open the folder!

We got to gym class no problem, and I had my appendicitis boy sit out so he wouldn’t get hurt, then went to find a translator to explain to him that he was NOT in trouble, we were just trying to keep him safe.

Most of my prep time I spent in the kindergarten room next door, in my role as a teacher mentor, because the K teacher had asked me to come observe the behavior in her room and help her figure out how to manage it better.  I took diligent notes but while I was there her class was very well behaved and she did a terrific job leading them through calendar time and through a story.

When I picked up the class from gym Nan told me that it had gone really well and that everyone had been good.  That did not last, unfortunately.

Back in the room I tried to get them excited about red day, and showed them all sorts of red things I own because red is my favorite color, but David said, “why are you being all silly?” and none of the class seemed all that engaged.  Then when Nan was going to set up centers for me, David grabbed my stuff, ripped some papers, and then headed out the door at top speed, punching Max in the face on the way.  So Nan was gone, and I was on my own, trying to explain the different color-themed centers, set them up, and help the children choose and put their clothespins in the right places on the pocket chart.

Max went to house corner, where he, Trixie, and another boy and girl all started fighting and tussling over baby dolls and dinner plates, and all ended up having to leave.  Then Max chose blocks, but wouldn’t actually go there, and kept asking the little boy, “where do you want to go?  Do you want to go to blocks with me?”  The boy clearly didn’t want to be with Max anymore, but I couldn’t get Max to get started on the blocks so the boy could decide where to go next.  Next thing I knew, Max and the boy and Trixie were all fighting over clothespins, and Max was pushing them and knocked down the centers pocket chart. 

I put him in time out but he started screaming “I want to go to blocks!” and tried to hit, kick, and scratch me.  He succeeded in drawing blood on my forearm.

The new boy kept switching centers without moving his clothespin, so I tried to help him, but he didn’t get it.  He went over to the puzzle shelf and knocked over five puzzles, whether on purpose or by accident, I couldn’t tell.  I spent a long time on the floor trying to put the puzzles back together, during which time Nan returned with a calm David (who started working on our red collage in art), and went out with a still-screaming Max.  While she was in the hall he ripped down a poster, scratched her arm and drew blood, and kicked her in the shin so hard he broke the skin.

I could tell we wouldn’t have time for recess, so I started clean-up time, which made Max out in the hall scream louder than ever.  Finally, everyone sat down, and Max returned calm (Nan is still a miracle worker), and I read Red Is Best, a great story about a little girl who feels the same way I do about the color red.  But only part way through David suddenly punched the boy next to him and ran out of the room….

…And no, there wasn’t any time during the morning when I felt that things were going well.

knuffle bunny saves the day September 19, 2008

Hooray for Mo Willems.  I decided that September would be Mo Willems month in my classroom.  Usually I have this “welcome to school” theme and I read all these books about school, but this summer I admitted to myself that I think all those books are boring, so I went straight to a unit on bugs and an author study on Mr. Willems, my hero.

I also decided to start the Repeated Interactive Read-Aloud method right away.  So I dug out the Knuffle Bunny lesson plan I wrote last year, and on Monday, we read the book for the first time. 

The children loved it.  On Wednesday, we did the second reading, and I had the class in the palm of my hand.  They raised their hands (or shouted out, in some cases) often to make comments and answer my questions.

On Thursday, we did the third reading, and Max came back from OT part-way through and exclaimed, “Knuffle Bunny!” with glee and joined us on the carpet as quickly as he could.  My native Spanish speakers (except for Lola, who wasn’t talking to her invisible friend, but wasn’t paying attention to the story, either) followed along and a few of them even raised their hands and whispered a few words in answer to my questions.

My most reliable participants in the discussion were David, Trixie, and one other little boy, but the pattern is being set.  Miss Nelson said she was impressed, and I told her I’m teaching them how to discuss books.

The best moment, however, was when they noticed the man in the park who is wearing Pigeon t-shirt.  “The pigeon!” they shouted, and all was happiness.

no walk to the park September 18, 2008

It’s no walk IN the park, either.

David got on top of Leo in the blocks and started punching him over and over before Miss Nelson could pull him off.  The occupational therapist came to work with Max and he started screaming at the top of his lungs.

I was hoping to take the class to a nearby park to look for bugs tomorrow, but I forgot to tell Miss Nelson about it, and she pointed out — and rightly, too — that neither David nor Max can handle it.  In fact, it would probably be a total disaster.  So, instead, we will look for bugs on our playground.

We are located in an urban center with great parks, a lake, a library, a grocery store, a floral shop, and a balloon store nearby.  Does this mean we can’t do any of the walking field trips we usually do?  Or do we go ahead and do them and leave David and Max behind each time?

ARGH!