Moroccobama

Student: "Miss H, have you heard of couscous?"

Me: "Yes, it's kind of like a special type of rice. It's from the country Morocco. Do you know about Morocco?"

Student: "Like Obama?"

Me: "No. That's Barack Obama."

Student 2: "Oh I know! Those little things you shake that make noise!"

Me: "No, hon. Those are maracas. Morocco is a country in Africa."

Oh, the things these children say. The best part: they've spent half the year studying Africa in Social Studies.

Over the Moon

I am, just as the title says, over the moon. I just finished testing my 4th period for their third and final benchmark before the EOG, and what I saw was absolutely fantastic. It would have brought tears to my eyes, but I decided I wasn't quite ready for my kids to see me that vulnerable--maybe when they pass the EOG. Nevertheless, it was sheer beauty.

Let me give you some background. As I may have mentioned before, our county is in desperate times right now. The state has pretty much told us it's "now or never" in regards to raising our test scores, the "never" part meaning our principal and many staff members would be out of jobs. Our last benchmark testing period, my classes grew on average less than two points--not nearly enough to get them where they need to be or show the state that I'm doing my job. I was really disappointed, but decided that this time around, I would create a hype around the test so that the kids would feel ready for it, even if there were some learning gaps. After all, the mental part is half the battle, right?

I've been nurturing this idea of my 7th graders as "butt-kickers" for a couple of weeks now. We've learned butt-kicking strategies to increase our scores without even doing any extra math (process of elimination, plugging in our answer choices, etc.), and spent hours practicing EOG problems under the guise of getting our "butt-kicking license". I will admit my fourth period was by far the most invested in the idea. They came to class asking to do some butt-kicking (which really meant they were asking for EOG problems--what?!). Students who missed part of a class period for picture day were expressing disappointment at not getting their BKL (butt-kicking license). They were proud of their hard work because someone was finally praising them as the best at something, rather than the honors class. And truthfully, they were by far the best "butt-kickers". Needless to say, I've been so excited for this class in particular to take their benchmarks, so they could finally see all their hard work paying off. I had them set goals, write them on an index card, and keep them out during the test so they knew what they were shooting for. There is, of course, the inevitable seed of doubt that crept into my mind, and the fear that if they don't do as well as they hoped that they would totally lose faith in all that we've been doing. I wasn't doubting the kids, necessarily; I was more worried about whether or not I've taught them enough to succeed on this test.

As we filed into the computer lab this morning, the realization set in that this was it; it was now or never for these kids, and for the amount of trust I had gained from them. I had played the song "World's Greatest" as they walked into my classroom, which had mistakenly gotten them a little too enthusiastic about the test and cause quite a bit of chaos as they tried to find computers. I started barking orders at kids, fussing at them, and running around like a crazy woman--not the kind of model they needed right before such an important test.

And then, it happened. All of a sudden, a hush fell over the room, and every student was working furiously on their test. I forgot to pass out their goal cards, and a student reminded me by writing her goal at the top of her scratch paper and holding it up for me to see. I was waiting, just waiting, for the first person to finish, for a little bit of reassurance that they could do it, that we could do it. And there was the first hand--S.W., with her friend C.M. waving me over frantically. "MISS H! S. is done, and she did really good!" S.W. is the lowest math student I teach--she's 15 and in the 7th grade--and I'll admit I was a little afraid to see her score. But lo and behold, she had done it--not only had she reached the goal she set herself, she passed it! While she's still not on 7th grade level, she's 10 points closer than she was last time. And here's the best part: I had made a poster for my students to sign if they met their goal and/or met the 7th grade goal. When S.W. went up to sign the poster first, the class started clapping! To see them being supportive of each other and motivated by one another was what I honestly imagine is every teacher's dream.

The rest of the students began to follow, and with each goal met, I did a little victory dance at the front of the room and had the successful student sign the poster. Before long, everyone was itching to get their name on the poster, and they knew that meant working harder, not faster. It took over 2 hours, but by the time the last students finished, I had 17 names on my poster. And the growth they made was significant. It wasn't just one or two points. Some had as many as 12 points growth. I couldn't even stand it; I was dancing and cheering and jumping.

The best part was seeing how genuinely excited the kids were. They bounced in their seats as they waved me over when they knew they reached their goal. They hyped it up by covering their score with their hands and revealing it to me in true "Ta da!" fashion when I ran excitedly their way. They fist-pumped their way to the poster and signed their names proudly. They told their friends, their teachers, and I'm certain their parents. There was such a sense of accomplishment and pride in the room that I was ready to burst, and so were they.

At lunch that afternoon, my homeroom called me over and one girl asked, "Miss H, when are we going to take our test? I'm ready to kick some butt!" The excitement is contagious, and that only makes my job easier.

Now that I've practically written a book....let's let a picture give you even a tiny bit of an idea of the excitement:

Thanks for following, and thanks for believing in me and my kids. We're on our way!

Raining on Sunday

Sundays are the worst. It’s always hard to leave home to head back to Roanoke Rapids when I’ve had a nice weekend away. Even a short weekend, like this one. I was in town for less than 24 hours to celebrate an approaching wedding (not mine, don’t worry) with good friends, and it’s just as hard as when I’ve had a full weekend to enjoy my family and friends’ company. This strange feeling sets in, a delicate mixture of uneasiness, discomfort, and dread that always disappears by Monday around 9:00, after I’ve survived my first class of the week. But that hour and a half drive back to my “home” in North Carolina is the worst hour and a half of the weekend, and maybe even the week (depending on how my classes behave—sometimes they claim that title).

The truth is, I’ve never been more sure throughout this whole experience that this is where I am supposed to be right now. In fact, a phone call with a good friend yesterday brought me to that conclusion. I feel very much like I am in God’s will, that this is what He called me to do, and that no matter where I thought I’d be a year ago, this was His plan all along. But it doesn’t erase the fact that life is so much more enjoyable, relaxing, and easier at home. I feel loved, taken care of, and very much like myself. I won’t depress you by telling you how I feel when I’m in Roanoke Rapids and Enfield, but let’s just say it’s not quite those things. Thus this rainy Sunday seems to fit my mood, and I am hoping that reflecting on this past week at school will give me the motivation I need to get ready for this one.

This past week was surprisingly good. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that I took a day off two Fridays ago, partly as a sick day and partly as a mental health day. I had had a really rough week with the kids, feeling walked all over and like I had absolutely no control, no motivation, and no passion. My TFA advisor strongly suggested I take a day off in the middle of the week, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have time to come up with a sub plan, I didn’t feel right about losing an instructional day, and I didn’t want to have a day off only to have to come back for two more days that week. But by Friday, it was a necessity. And perfectly timed, as I was giving a quiz in class anyways, so I wouldn’t lose any instructional time. So Friday morning, I called in sick, did some stuff around the house, took care of some responsibilities, and headed to Richmond for an impromptu weekend home. My parents were generous enough to take care of me, and I gained back the energy and purpose I had been lacking the week before.

Monday through Wednesday of last week were so great. I went into school with a better attitude, having had some much needed rest and time to plan ahead. My kids were really well behaved for the most part, and we got a lot done. I even got (most of) them excited about doing EOG practice problems by calling it “EOG Butt-Kicking” and calling them “Certified Butt Kickers” when they earned stickers for problems they completed correctly. I lost them a bit Thursday and Friday, especially after 2 cafeteria fights and picture day, but I left school on Friday feeling pretty good about the week, especially compared to the previous one. I’ve learned it’s just as much about my attitude and my modeling as anything else.

I’ll admit, I’m a little terrified for this week. We have benchmark testing, which in and of itself isn’t enough to scare me. In fact, it even excites me a bit. I truly think I’ve invested at least one of my classes in the idea of reaching their goals for this test, and I’m excited to see how much they’ve grown since the last time they took the test. But testing week also comes with its share of snags and inevitable schedule changes. While it requires one less day of lesson planning, it also calls for quite a bit of “just in case” preparation, as it’s possible that I’ll have one or more of my classes for longer than expected, with no warning and no idea when I’ll get to get rid of them.

The best part: next week I have 2 days off for a middle school conference in Greensboro, so I’ll only have 3 days with the kids. I guess it’s still technically “work”, but I typically love conferences, I love hotels, and I may get to see a good college friend while I’m in town. All I have to do is make it through this week…..

Patience is a Virtuously Impossible Quality

The sun is down and I'm sitting on my back patio, with nothing but my the light from my computer screen, the sound of some strange chirping/singing insects, and the screams of the children playing in the government housing units across the pond. Oh, and I'm in shorts and short sleeved t-shirt. The weather has been fantastic these past few days--such a nice break from the cold winter. I just finished my outline for next week's lesson plans and am giving myself a well-deserved break after a long and hard week. Long because I'm still not used to five-day weeks (we've had days off and 2 hour delays pretty much every week since break). And hard because my kids seem to get more hard-headed, more helpless, and more disrespectful every day. I know part of that is my fault. Not laying down the rules firmly enough, not having enough energy to shower them with the positive reinforcement they need, and not having patience to answer a question the 100th time without some sassy remark. This is by far the hardest lesson I've ever had to learn: patience.

As much as these kids groan and complain about authority, rules, and school, they need firm leaders in their lives. They'll resist help when you offer it, then insist on it or beg for it when they finally realize they need it. My tendency is to rebuke them and refuse to help. I've explained something fifteen times, and while I was explaining it I commented on the fact that some people aren't listening and I will not help them later when they ask. Sure enough, two minutes later 3 hands are in the air: "I can't do it! I don't know how. You didn't teach us." That last one makes me want to slap a kid (there should be a carnival game called that--"Slap-a-kid". They'd get a lot of my money). I have students who spend the entire instructional period turn around in their seats or sleeping, and then they complain when they have to do it on their own. It doesn't matter that I spent 2 hours creating a power point the night before, that I've used my own money to buy the markers that inevitably end up uncapped and dried out, or that I'm so tired my eyes will barely stay open. The kids expect me to work around what they want, and when they want it. This generation of kids is all about instant gratification. And I thought my generation was bad. Did you know that my educational mentors recommend that the introduction to new materials part of a lesson (basically the direct instruction) last no more than 20 minutes? Kids can't sit still that long, they can't spend that much time learning. So instead, I'm supposed to provide them with 35 minutes of partner, group, or independent work. In groups, they get nothing done. They copy each other's work and talk about the latest gossip. When I ask them to work independently, almost every student has his or her hand raised for my help. Even if they know how to do it. How can I help 25 students at once? Shouldn't I, then, just go back to direct instruction, if they all need help?

Today, we were testing using the laptops. When my 8th period got back from lunch, they found out that most of their computers had logged them out. So, obviously, to fix that problem, the best thing to do is to all shout out my name and their problem at once. Because when 25 students are yelling, "Miss H! I need help! MISS H! OVER HERE!", it's really easy to get things done. They all want help now, even if they see me helping another student. I just do not understand these kids. I was telling Jess about their inability to make decisions because of their lack of experience, and it struck me that as frustrating as it is to deal with, I'm really more frustrated for the kids rather than with them. They've been raised in environments where there is no emphasis on what is socially appropriate, productive, or considerate. It's all about them, it's all about now.

I've seen so many interesting situations in the past few weeks, I can't even begin to recount them. But the more I see parents interact with their kids, the more I understand why my students are the way they are. It doesn't necessarily make it any easier to deal with on an everyday basis, but it does help me keep perspective those nights when I just want to give up or play a refreshing round of slap-a-kid. I can feel God stretching and pulling me, teaching me lessons in love that I need to learn. It's painful, it's frustrating, and it's hard.....I still have so much to learn.

Teacher WHAT Day?!

I love the fact that the school district calls a student holiday a "Teacher Work Day". As if I didn't already spend (almost) every waking moment slaving over a lesson plan, guided notes, a test, or an activity to benefit my less-than-grateful kiddos. As if I don't wake up at 5:15 every week day morning to go to work, and spend my weekends sprawled out on the living floor typing frantically away on my computer. But regardless, I won't complain. "Teacher Work Days" may be the best thing ever invented--it's just the name I have some beef with.

We had a TWD on Monday, and it was by far the best day of the school year. I was incredibly productive, planning lessons to last me through the rest of the week. Not to mention I was actually able to enjoy my weekend, knowing that I'd have an extra day to prepare myself for the onslaught of chaos on Tuesday. I even had a semi-normal life this weekend, going to a party with TFA friends and having breakfast before church with a non-teacher friend. And now here I am, on a Wednesday night, eating leftover cookie dough out of a bowl while my peanut butter Hershey kiss cookies bake, blogging away when normally I should be lesson planning or copying, and waiting for Modern Family to come on. Sure, I can make a few revisions to make my lesson a little more rigorous, and I will. But for now, I'm enjoying the existence of Courtney, rather than Miss H.

Because we've been giving more benchmark tests this week, my classes are now behind on their lessons. That does mean, however, that I am even more ahead in planning, which is fabulous. This weekend could potentially be the most work-free weekend I've had since I started teaching. And perfect timing, because my grandparents will be in town, my friends are coming home, and it's my sister's birthday. Bring on Friday, I'm ready to have a life and not feel guilty about it!

The kids have been great these past few days, only because they have been using the laptops to take their tests. Which means they get to play math games when they are done. I have NEVER seen 25 children so silent as when I tell them they can put their headphones in and play games. have found my new bargaining chip.

I've also been working closely with a woman from Teach for America's National Design Team, Rachel, who is helping me take steps to transform my classroom management. She's come in to video tape, observe, and debrief with me, and she's been checking in with me over the phone. One of my biggest obstacles is honestly overcoming the preconceived notions I have in my head of these kids and why they behave the way they do. I'm working on going into all of my classes with a more positive attitude, conducting it in a more businesslike yet warm manner, and handling misbehavior with a more neutral tone. I've noticed that I tend to react rather than just act when a kid goofs off, and they love the response I give them when I get mad. It was hard to admit that I am part of a struggling classroom, which is what makes me eligible for the intervention from Rachel. But as she reassured me, they wouldn't be investing in me and my classes if they didn't expect a transformation out of it. So keep your fingers crossed for me!

Only two days left in this week. Teacher Work Days should be a mandatory part of every school week. I'm such a better teacher, being able to plan ahead and take care of myself. Plus, it doesn't hurt that there are only four days to get through :)

Keeping My Balance

My roommate and I have joked before about how first year teaching is kind of like treading water. Treading water isn’t enjoyable, and it’s not often associated with fun. You get tired quickly, but your only options are to keep treading or to drown. I can imagine that in comparison, second year will be much like floating on your back on a warm summer day, with the water gently lapping against my sides instead of threatening to rush over my head. Notice I said in comparison. I don’t doubt that second year will bring its share of work, challenges, late nights, and tough kids. But it must be more manageable than it is as a first year teacher. At least that’s what I was telling myself as I frantically kicked my legs and flailed my arms, struggling to keep my head above water those first few months.

Something’s changed, though. I no longer wake up with a feeling of panic or dread in my stomach. There’s no fear in my chest in those last few moments of silence before my first period students arrive. Very rarely do I come home feeling overwhelmed or unhappy or disheartened. (Although I will admit, my feelings towards my 8^th period have not changed much. I would still rather be run over by a car then deal with them most days. But that’s different.) And I think I’ve found the secret to my transition from treading water to swimming laps: keeping my balance.

So many second year TFA corps members have warned me to take care of myself, even if it means that not all my loose ends are tied up everyday. I will admit, I think it’s almost impossible first semester to do anything except school work. But after a refreshing Christmas break, I decided that I couldn’t sit back and watch myself make the same mistakes that I was very clearly warned against. Gone are the days of working on one lesson from the moment I got home until the moment I went to bed. Gone are the weekends I spent hunched over in front of my teacher’s edition and my computer, developing elaborate lesson plans that never made it to fruition. Move over, first-semester-Miss Hiltunen—make way for the new & improved second-semester Miss Hiltunen.

Now, when I get home from school, I set aside about 2 hours to get a lesson plan completely done, copies made, etc. That still leaves me with plenty of time to eat dinner and go to the gym or watch a TV show. And most importantly, I always leave some time for some good ol’fashioned prayin’ time. Now that’s the key to my success. Because Lord knows that I need some time to refocus, remember why I’m here, and cry out for help. I try to start every morning on my knees, thanking God for another day and praying for patience and the knowledge to discern what’s best for my kids. It’s so much easier to start another day, where there will surely be plenty of disrespectful 12 year olds, when I can remember who He is and how much bigger His plan is than anything these kids can pull.

This morning, I walked into school with a bounce in my step and a cheer in my voice. A bounce and a cheer, I said. On a Monday. That, my friends, only comes from keeping a healthy balance. And, of course, by the grace of God.

Snow Day

It's 9:12 pm. I've been in bed for about 12 minutes, but I've been in my pajamas for just about 24 hours. That's right, no school today--our first official snow day of the school year, and my first snow day as a teacher. You better believe that teachers get WAY more excited about snow days than students do.

Case in point: Last night, we went to bed knowing we had a 2 hour delay. Getting to sleep in two extra hours was glorious. I woke up without an alarm clock at 7:00, and got out of bed at 7:20. I checked the school closings and Wake County (near Durham/Raleigh) Schools were already closed. I got out of the shower and, with a towel on my head and my pajamas back on, I went out to the living room to complain to my roommate about our misfortune of still having school. At the exact instant that I opened my door, Lojo jumped up from the couch, threw down her cell phone, and went shrieking through the house, screaming, "NO SCHOOL NO SCHOOL NO SCHOOL!" In a panic, I ran behind her, trying to make sure I was hearing her correctly. I had to chase her up the stairs, where she was frantically beating on our other roommates' doors. We danced and screamed and laughed as we watched the snow start falling outside our window onto our frozen pond. This evening, when we got the call that we had a second snow day, I started jumping through the air, doing hurkeys and ice skating on our kitchen floor. If only we had cameras to capture the excitement, our kids would have to agree that teachers are much more appreciative.

Even though I haven't changed my clothes, I've been more productive today than most weekends. We cleaned the whole downstairs before 10:00 am--scrubbing, sweeping, vaccumming, washing, and reorganizing until our kitchen, living room, and bedrooms looked like new. I planned 4 different lessons for tomorrow (which will now function as Monday's lessons), created a fun activity for Tuesday, graded papers, and cooked myself three meals. Tomorrow's agenda: more planning, hopefully to reduce the amount of work to do over break, and just enjoy the time off. Heavens knows we'll probably have to make it up somewhere along the line, so I might as well take what I can get, when I can get it.

Here's to a four day weekend and an impending winter break.