33 and counting

As of this morning, there are just 33 school days left.  Subtract the 3 wasted days for testing and there are 30.  And then take away a field trip and field day and we’re down to 28! 

What we are as a learning community is pretty much set, although possibly set in jello.  What is left is a mild variation on the school year we’ve built and possibly some end-of-year grouchiness from a group of kids who have been tossed into this family-style mix for nearly 150 days.  Some kids get testy with each other and less able to tolerate all those little quirky things that seemed not to be a problem before.  The girls in the room get a little b—-y; looking cross at one another is reason for all-out battle.  Kids who don’t want to spend a summer at home dealing with the SOS start to act out.  They’re actually angry at ME because school is almost over. Yet all year long I’ve heard how they hate school — go figure!

Tomorrow we will attend a field trip performace of Paul Revere at the University.  We brought the children to the same program last year and it was quite a stretch for some.  First of all — it’s sung!  That’s right, we’re bringing third graders who don’t get out much to an opera.  And one where the players use things like tables to take the place of Revere’s horse.  I’ve prepared the kids for this, but wonder really and truly how it will go over. Hopefully third graders can respond with open minds and maybe even get a piece of information or two from the story.

We are back for the final slide into summer. I can’t wait!

A time to rejuvenate

Rejuvenation by solitude.  That’s what this week has been for me. 

As an elementary age teacher, I find myself often managing several conversational threads all at one time: the adults who have popped in to let me know something, the child who wasn’t paying close attention and needs redirection, another child whose emotional meltdown requires him or her to blurt out whatever has been troubling at precisely the same moment another is having a conversation with me.  Sometimes the cacaphony can be a bit much.  Transition times (for me, not the kids!) in cars are not very relaxing and a house full of new and unexpected problems often awaits.

So when Adrien and Matt inadvertently booked a photo trip to NC during April School vacation week, I have to admit I was looking forward to the silence.

In the past when I’ve been by myself, I’ve often turned on the television just to have some conversation around.  This week, however, I find myself just sitting and decompressing.  It has been a very stressful academic year; maybe the craving for silence is the result of too many balls juggled in the air at one time. Some time to be reflective and to put things back to right was needed.

It has almost been a pleasure not to have to do anything.  I’ll probably regret putting off that call to the doctors as it will most likely need to be squeezed in someday after school — and by the looks of the May calendar we’ve been given, that will certainly be a challenge.  I’ve been home minding the reconstruction of the front steps, but that has given me a chance to spring clean and organize and maintain both inside and out.  I fear that I won’t see this kind of time again until June 16.

Last night, I turned up the stereo and played some CDs I’d long ago ignored.  No one minded the amount of noise – or at least the neighbors didn’t complain.  I’d forgotten how I love the sound of music.

Tomorrow morning, around 9:30, things will begin to return to normal rhythms around here.  Adrien will be back from his trip — I have missed him and his company.  But I have also appreciated the time to do nothing — and to enjoy the silence.

A beautiful week

This is our Spring vacation week here in New England and we have been gifted with some of the most gorgeous weather imaginable.  Although (I hear) the coast has been someone cool — breezes off the ocean at this time of year can be quite cool — inland, where I live has been wam and wonderful.  After the winter that we have just finished, it feels like we’ve earned this week.

So far I’ve managed to get out and clean up quite a bit of the front of our property and paint the outside of our stockade fence in the side yard.  We had a landscaper pull the rosa rugosa out of the bank in front of the house which eliminated most of the messy thorny roses.  They did not, however, pull many of the roses out by the roots.  That was left to me and it was quite the exercise. 

Now that the bank is mostly cleaned up — I’m sure I’ll be pulling roots for several years to come — I’m looking for something to plant.  As I’ve gotten older, my planting priorities have changed.  My requirements for this area:  won’t need to be mowed, trimmed, or otherwise cared for AND my neighbors can see beyond it when they pull out of their driveways.  Currently I’m looking at a landscape plan we had drawn back when we first bought the house.  The plan calls for a rug juniper on the top of the bank.  While that fits my criteria, I’m hesitating because of the brutal growing conditions on this busy road.  We have a ton of salt and sand spread on this street during the winter months and whatever we put down needs to be salt and sand tolerant.  Any suggestions?

Otherwise, this week has been an endless parade of items checked off my “to do” list.  Today I’m working for a couple of hours switching clothes and spring cleaning the top floor.  The stuff that accumulates of the course of 6-8 months (when school started) floors me. Trash day tomorrow!

We can still have some fun

Yesterday, the day before our week-long spring break, coincided with lots of special reading activities for my class.  It was RIF day, and also, the third grade classrooms had designated yesterday for a Read-To-My-Parent day at the end of school.

I threw caution to the wind and turned the day upside down…. and, with one notable exception, everyone had fun!  How cool was that?

At the request of the kids, we designated the day “Stuffed Animal Day”.  Anyone who wanted to could bring a favorite stuffed animal to read to (just in case a family member couldn’t come for the Read-In).  We’ve also been reading The Velveteen Rabbit as a school so a well-loved stuffed animal just seemed like the right prop to have on hand.  The kids have all heard about my favorite stuffed animal – a sock monkey name Jock-o (trust me, I was a toddler LONG before Michael Jackson co-opted this nickname!).

When we prepare for lunch, I usually take the class to the cafeteria and one of the one-on-one paras takes my wheel-chair bound student after changing her position to a standing device.  Well, it turns out, this little miss has quite the mischievious sense of humor.  When I returned from bringing the children to the cafe, I noticed Jocko had been kidnapped!  The hostage demand:  a night’s free homework pass!  What fun we had for the next hour trying to rescue Jocko from his kidnapper(s) (I’m guessing several were in on it).  And even after he was finally found, he once again disappeared.  Apparently it is hard to keep a good monkey in the classroom and it is hard to keep such goings on quiet!  My husband, Adrien, was bringing me coffee and heard about the kidnappings when he signed in at the Main Office. During our Reader’s Theater presentation, someone (no names) managed to pass Jocko off to Adrien who was also enlisted to carry out the mischief, and out the door Jocko went…. I believe he might have been on a colleague’s supply cart in the hallway, but we are still dusting the school for fingerprint proof. Get me Law & Order on the blower!

Poking fun at and laughing at myself does not come easy…. but mock indignation at Jockos predicament had us all laughing until tears ran down our faces!  What fun to see kids who are usually so guarded, let their mischeivious and silly side out.  For some, I wonder if the afternoon might have been a break from all the serious home issues that interfere with them just behaving like kids.

And as for Jocko… well a hug and a few well-placed stitches to stop the stuffing from falling out and he’s no worse for the wear.  In fact, I think he’d like to return to 207 sometime soon.

Who Knows Where the Time Goes….

There’s a beautiful and haunting song that I first heard on a Judy Collins record (yes, I meant to say record).  The song was originally written and performed by Sandy Denny, Who Knows Where The Time Goes? is one of those songs that occasionally pops back into consciousness and fades again.

I was thinking about how quickly my adult life has seemed to pass.  Life lived at warp speed.  One minute Adrien and I are beginning our life together, the next we are contemplating how to spend retirement. Four of my most favorite photographs of Matt were taken by Adrien when he was just about one.  A pudgy little guy with elastic facial expressions – how did he so quickly pass through his first 28 years to become an adult.  It seems as if just yesterday I was unhooking his fingers from the chainlink fence surrounding his preschool. 

Having no idea of how much time is left makes life lived at warp speed frantic.  Will we have the chance to do all of those things we want to do, all of those things we put off until….

How I wish I could say I do not fear the time.

New England Spring

Yesterday was the first day when I felt we had turned the corner on winter.  It was warm, but cloudy most of the day.  Walking around in light jackets cannot be under estimated after nearly 5 months of heavy woolen coats.

The weather, however, had a few twists to let us know that winter strangeness was not quite finished with us.  Mid-afternoon, we had two thunder squalls pass through.  During both of them, the sun came out as the rain torrents poured down.  Here are a couple of shots I took with my point and shoot:

Today, we drove to Campton to visit with my mother-in-law.  It is remarkable how different the weather is just 100 miles from here.  We drove around Stinson Lake in nearby Rumney and found ourselves driving up into the mountain (whichever one that was!) in snow squalls!  The area around Plymouth and Campton is definitely still in winter’s grip — snow banks and snowcover under trees and along roadsides.  The rivers — Baker and Pemi were running quickly from the snow melt that has already occurred.  In this part of New England, spring is at least 2 weeks away while at home we are starting to see tulips and daffodils push through.

 

 

It was all downhill from there….

Ah, the morning when everything seems new and possible.  Little did I know when I posted this morning what excitement was in store today.

Having checked in at the office, I had a quick conversation (well maybe it wasn’t that quick) about a student’s revoked field trip priviledge.  Upshot, we’re giving the student another chance to see the play we’re going to at the end of the month, but it’s going to be one of those “earn it back” kinds of things.  I’m hoping he can pull it together, but generally with this child, an incentive works for about 24 hours and then whatever demons are in his mind make him forget what the idea was.  I think that’s the definition of “hard to remember your original objective was to drain the swamp when you’re up to your a– in alligator!” — kidstyle.  My intentions were to conference with this kid during breakfast, but between his defiant demeanor (or was that avoidance?) and the hurly burly that became the start of the day…. well I got around to it about noon — seriously!

One of my most emotionally involved students is being transferred to an EDBD classroom in a nearby school.  I know in my heart that this move is the right one for the child, but I sure feel as if I’ve failed him.  His parent had not yet shared this bit of news, so tomorrow, when we’re all wishing him well, it could be very interesting.  I’m not certain that the information has ever been shared.

A colleague of mine learned one of her students had brought a weapon to school.  It was apparently intended to cause harm to another student and there was a plan — one that involved classmates.  The classmates were all intimidated by the ringleader so they didn’t tell on him – very unusual for 8-9 year olds!  Usually they can’t WAIT to rat someone out.  What made this kid so violent?  Given the non-stop coverage of this student or that bringing a weapon to school to do harm to staff or peers, can we actually act surprised when one of ours picks up on the idea?

The pain of this last situation is that the teacher is a master of creating a community of learners — a place where kids feel safe and where kids are treated with respect.  How could such an event take place in a classroom that is a model for us all?  I don’t understand.  But I do know there but for the grace of God, go I.

Our administration is just about the best there could be.  Their calm yet decisive handling of this event and the way they made sure that staff had as much fact as needed to squash the rumor mill, was truly unbelievable.  I wonder if everyone realizes how good it is to be here? 

So, tomorrow is the last day of the week — it is our Whole School Meeting (see the Reponsive Classroom) and our school-wide celebration of Cambodian New Year.  I’m hoping the end of the week goes a lot better than the day after hump day.

 

The Day After Hump Day

Everyone needs a little positive reinforcement that the end is in sight.  In my classroom, we refer to Wednesdays as hump day…. as in the steady climb to the middle of the week and downhill thereafter.  (Now, get your mind out of the gutter, I teach children!)  This term has been a family tradition: my brother used to need daily inspiration to get up, get dressed, and get on the bus to go to school — as did my son and most likely his father.  This year, I need that motivation.  The daily challenge of staying positive while all manner of emotional disruption takes place is fading fast.  I’ll admit it — I need hump day to get me to Friday.

So, here we are on a Thursday morning… the day after hump day.  And I am wondering what awaits me, fearing the worst.  This is the point in the week when the students who have been holding their emotions together start to fall apart. It’s the day when the furniture starts flying.  Having been sick for a good portion of the week and not being able to do my usual stress busting workouts, I’m feeling a little vulnerable and tired.  Hump Day is not having the desired impact this week. 

I wish it were Friday.

Pass It On…..

Even though I teach elementary age children, I’ve managed to avoid a cold for the last 18 months.  That is, I avoided one until Saturday morning around 1 am when I woke with a sore throat.  The timing on this cold — on the weekend — is really frustrating.  Adrien & I had tickets to Le Vent du Nord, which of course we ended up having to forfeit. Although I would probably stay home tomorrow if I had a private sector job, and may in fact end up having to do just that, I haven’t made the call to the sub line.  Getting a sub in a classroom where many of the children have emotional issues is almost not worth doing unless you’re at death’s door — the next day the children with abandonment issues punish you for being out.  It’s a real cunundrum.

So, how did I manage to get this cold?  Kids who are sent to school sick — and I had several fall in that category last week — because Mom or Dad need to work and can’t make any childcare arrangements.  Sometimes kids come with fevers, or throw up shortly after arrival…. isn’t there some other arrangement that the leader of the civilized world cannot find a way to take care of the youngest, most defenseless citizens? 

Meanwhile, I’ll see how gross I feel after tonight and maybe I’ll have to call for a sub.  And if I can, I’ll suck it up and go in to pass the germ on to someone else in my room. 

Jonathan Kozol

I serendipitously was given an opportunity to hear Dr. Kozol at the Biggy Lecture at UML yesterday afternoon.  A summary of the lecture can be found on Jackie Doherty’s webblog.  This was the second time I’ve heard Dr. Kozol speak — each time it’s been thought-provoking.

 This time, Dr. Kozol spoke at length about the battering public education takes in districts with high rates of poverty (and conversely lower funding of education).  Our students need the same advantages that their counterparts receive in more affluent communities — and they need them now.  For me, it’s a matter of justice: my third grade students are just as bright and creative as anyone else here on God’s green earth, but many of them are not treated that way.  When people in my hometown ask what I do and I tell them, I often get that pitiful look that urban educators come to recognize as part condescension and part prejudice.  I have actually heard one suburban educator voice the opinion that urban educators can’t be all that smart since the test scores in the cities are so much lower.

One of yesterday’s panelists — a 30-year veteran art teacher  (Mr. Meehan) — spoke to this through his own experiences teaching kids in Lawrence, MA.  Being “street smart”, our kids know things we can’t possibly imagine and they are very successful living in their environments.  Think about it: what would happen to us if we had to deal with some of the social and economic challenges our students have come to think of as commonplace?  What our kids want — and what we should stand up for — is success outside of their environment.  We — and they — want worldly success for our students. And that, is the challenge Dr. Kozol left us with — what are WE going to do to effect the change our students need and deserve.