On the Cusp of the Cusp of Mid 20Something

Well, October is finally over (sigh of relief). Now it's November, which means ...

1) my birthday (Sunday)
2) Thanksgiving (2 weeks)
3) Christmas (a mere stone's throw after that)

Before you know it, it's January, and the year is half over, FO real.

Some highlights of my recent life:

1) I've had a kid give me the finger.
2) I've broken up on order of three fights.
3) I've dealt with pouting virtually every second of every day from at least one source.
4) I've had a child look depressed when I told them, "You can be successful at school."
5) I've had more things muttered under children's breath about me than would be suitable for reprinting.

My main observation at present? If you took any Wall Street hotshot, any Med School or Law School attending honor roller, or any of the numerous reality show candidates, I wonder if they could do this ... I mean, for real. Do you thrive regardless of context if you work hard? Or can hard work simply not overcome some ingrained social conditions? Again, I struggle with this question daily --- is my situation specifically unique, or is my work ethic lacking fundamentals, etc? I'm never really sure. I know I could do better, and reach more children in a more effective manner, but I struggle consistently with how to do so.

I'm trying something new this week, and I think I need to stick with it to make it work. I always give these homework packets with like 500 reproducible dittos dealing with what we're doing this week in class, you know? For example, we're doing place value, and I drop a bunch of xeroxs about place value, and send it home. However, I almost never get a high rate of return on these packets of work, and frequently all I get are complaints. So now, my new idea is thus --- every Monday, I'm going to give students a project. The project is going to encompass everything we're touching on this week --- like, they gotta start their own business and do a certain amount of things. If they bring back the project, they're chill --- maybe a little toy, maybe points on a test. And if they don't, well, at least they don't bitch as hardcore as they used to.

The end result of this? Some kid screaming at me "THIS TOO HARD!" I get that probably six times a day (more). My girlfriend's school, they hide under the table when it's too hard.

The Dog Days

When this week is over, October is over.

When October is over, it's November. That means two things --- my birthday and Thanksgiving break. We come back from Thanksgiving and it's December. Two, maybe three weeks and it's Christmas. Two weeks off. Come back from that and it's January. I'm halfway done with the year, and I'm staying focused on testing and significant gains and all that. February hits soon enough --- girlfriend's birthday, two long weekends --- and then March --- Spring Break. Come back and there's 9 weeks left, including two long weekends. Booyah.

So basically, if I can make through this week, I'm almost done. If... by almost done ... you mean I have about 125 days left.

I don't really have a lot on which to comment right now. My goal for this week is to focus on "centers," which is another way of doing small group instruction. Basically, you define four areas of the room and have a specific activity for each area. You monitor and assist students. It seems really simple, but in fact it's the most terrifying thing in the entire world, because a kid always tries to test your limits behind your back. What's with that? Why do they do that? (Insert "Didn't you take childhood psychology?" comment here). I caught a kid running up the slide (a playground no-no) 2 weeks ago, and I asked him point blank, "Did you do that because you wanted to see if I would catch you, or because you forgot the rules?"

"Wanted to see if you would catch me."

Yea, well, I did.

I think I need to gain some enlightenment.

Adults Acting Like Children, Children Never Acting Like Adults

I haven't posted in a bit --- again, it speaks more to utter fatigue and personal devastation than anything else.

I had 2 inservices this week. Essentially, an inservice is a day-long training opportunity. The true purpose is to gain new insights into classroom management and instruction, right? I take that away from it, for sure --- I used something in my class on Thursday that I had previously learned on Wednesday at a training. However, another, perhaps more tangible purpose is to allow you some breathing room. You can think more clearly about what's going on in your life, specifically your professional (teaching) life.

In the context of doing this, and thinking about this blog, I realized something. Why is it that I always see adults within education acting like children, but never children acting like adults?

Examples? Here we go:

1) In August, I attended an inservice where I saw several 50 year old women dance and sing in the front of the room, screaming "WHO CAN PAY ATTENTION NA NA NA NA" (Who Let the Dogs Out hook)

2) At a meeting I had last week to refer a student to Special Education services, I heard three people (adults) say, "Let's keep this moving so we can get out of here." Not once, but multiple times each. At the same meeting, someone was noted to refer to a street near my school as a "black hole."

3) Twice this year, I've been tattled on by another teacher to my principal about something I supposedly did. Tattled on ... doesn't that stop in 1st / 2nd grade?

4) Last year, my girlfriend's assistant principal tried to teach first grade students a song and dance routine about the parts of a plant. As she modeled the leaves (hands above the head, and moving), one girl shrieked "Ballerina! Yea!" Seems that information truly resonated.

Yet, I almost never see a child make a mature, informed decision. So I wonder ... does all this happen because ...

... elementary school teachers are, by nature, repressed adults who loved / can't get over their childhoods ...

... or ...

... there's no role models in these situations, because the slacking-off occurs everywhere ...

You know what? Either way, I'm probably to blame.

What am I?

I haven't posted in a while, which I think speaks to my utter sense of being defeated more than anything else.

Most days, I work from 6:50am until 6pm, straight through, with maybe 1 hour and 30 minutes where I don't have to supervise children. It's not the straight sense of supervising children, though --- you're supervising children who scream expletives (periodically), who are capable of getting physical with one another (sometimes), and who disobey with the regularity you'd expect from obedience. My point is, don't cry for me ... but don't think it's easy, either.

I've been talking to people recently about teaching. It seems, in a broader sense, I'm only talking about teaching, all the f'n time. Sometimes, though, I don't really know what I am. I don't feel like a teacher; I feel more like a babysitter, or maybe a police officer. I don't feel like I develop, guide, and nurture learning; rather, I feel like I prevent a group of 7 and 8 year old children from bludgeoning each other, and try to impart some self-control. I guess I thought when all this began --- teaching in a general sense --- that I would be taking low-income kids without access to resources and making them smarter and more motivated to excel. It's not that. I guess, I mean ... it is THAT in SOME places. For me, it's mostly controlling disobedience, outbursts, and entanglements.

Does a lot of this come back to me? Without question.

Charming vignette from today, one that always makes me feel better --- the sub for the other class (the class I teach math to) says to me, "I don't know how you get up every morning having to deal with those kids."

I don't either.

I have Report Card Day on Wednesday. I've never failed a kid before this grading period (i.e. I didn't fail a kid all of last year), so I'm expecting that to be somewhat interesting, if any of the parents of kids I failed show up. I try to phrase things in terms of a "compliment sandwich," which goes something like this:

"Your kid is really great with / at / for ...

... but ...

... above all, though, there's a good deal of potential ..."

Songs and Dances

Last year, my girlfriend was getting observed by her assistant principal, and was teaching a science lesson on the parts of a plant. OK, so the lesson is going well, but the assistant principal in question --- herself a decade, maybe two decade long teaching veteran --- decides that she has a better idea. She tries to teach the kids a song about parts of a plant. Now, it's proven with research that songs, dances, games, etc definitely help primary-aged children learn better. I'm by no means disputing that --- I give props to someone willing to create a song and dance routine for fractions, and someone that can control a class who is doing one.

Point being, the assistant principal hops up and teaches the kids this song, which is pretty basic "Here are the roots ... la la la ... here is the stem ... la la la" as children gesture to various parts of their body. While mimicing the petals, with hands over head, one child exclaimed "Ballerina!"

My point? Songs are a great tool, undoubtedly --- but are all the kids clearly understanding the learning behind it, or just viewing it as a chance to play? No.

OK, so today, I have this older woman helping me out in my classroom. She's this nice, grizzled teaching veteran --- probably about 70ish, and has taught (primarily math) at every level from elementary through community college. I respect that tremendously, and the fact that this woman would come in and help me, when I doubt she's getting paid for it, is absolutely fantastic. However, she created this song called "The Math Story Stomp," which goes something like this:

"How do we solve?"

"Read, read, read the story...
... highlight the mystery...
... look for the answer ...
... illustrate the information ...
... is the answer reasonable?
Hmmmm.... Lemme check"

Anyway, this woman is having a rough go of it with my harder homeroom, and she decides, "OK Kids ... Let's do the Math Story Stomp!"

What follows was one of the funnier things I've ever seen. A kid who was on the other --- THE OTHER --- side of the room realizes that a dance is going on. At the time, he was doing some individual work with me. Rather than continuing working with me, his actual teacher, he gets up and literally dives three-quarters of the way across the room. However, a curious thing happened. Instead of actually doing "The Math Story Stomp," this child proceeded to start swinging his arm back and forth across his crotch --- a kind of "Suck It" motion --- while screaming "Oh yea, baby, oh yea," as if imitating some form of sexual act, or sexual domination.

I looked at him, sighed deeply, and just began laughing hysterically.

Other highlights from today ---

1) I turned around at one pt. and one child was trying to suplex another, already having him in a Heimlich-like hold.

2) A kid wrote "Fuck me" on a Post It Note and tried to place it on another child's back.

I still can't get over that kid dancing.

"Looks Like Somebody's Got a Case of the Moooondays"

I was so tired in the shower this morning, I felt like I was gonna pass out against the tiling. Fortunately, I didn't, and Starbucks helped a little bit too, for the drive to work.

When I got there, it was a fairly solid day. My general philosophy on the week is, get through Monday, and everything else clicks. See ... once Monday is over, it's Tuesday. There's 2 good things about Tuesday --- a) it's not Monday anymore; and b) in the afternoon, 7 of my kids go to a special reading tutorial, so I end up with 4 kids for 45 minutes, and I just play skill practice games. Then, Wednesday comes, and we leave at 1pm (well, the kids do). Thursday is 1 day away from Friday --- and I have 90 mins for planning time instead of 45 --- and Friday is, well, Friday.

So you see, if you can clear Monday, from a thinking vantage point, you're winning the battle of the week. And if you can clear Monday and have a relatively productive day, that's doubly solid.

I got some stuff done with both of my main math sections that I didn't expect to get done, which is always a plus. At the same time, did I miss out on 2-3 things I had planned? Yes. Do I still pat myself on the back for the day? Yes. Do I still need to do more effective things after lunch? Yes.

Highlight? Some kid kept calling another kid "Fat Joe," even though the kid's name isn't Joe. I instructed him to stop. He didn't, so he received a punishment. When pressed about why he was calling him "Fat Joe," the child in question called ME "Fat Joe." Honestly, I laughed --- in what context would that possibly be acceptable?

38 days down.

"But Mr. Bauer ..."

Right now I've had a sore throat for about 27 hours, got almost no sleep last night, and have a vague sensation of there being blood in my throat. All told, it hasn't really been the best week.

They had a nacho / hot dog sale at school today. Virtually every Friday at 2pm, they have one of these things. Some teachers complain, because it interferes with instruction. Others love it. As you might assume, I fall into that latter category. The problem is, teachers generally stay in their rooms, so the only supervision is by parent volunteers. These women are great, and I respect all they do here --- but generally speaking, they know mostly how to discipline their own kids. So, about 200 kids with about 10 women working is a challenging situation, and it usually manifests itself as such.

So, I see this kid --- third grader, in the other homeroom --- do the following two things:

1) Steal a juice (they cost 1 dollar)
2) Tease a kinder student (they're 5 years old)

I call him over, talk to him, and in the end I take his candy (he bought it for 50 cents). Personally, I think if you insult a kindergartner and steal, you deserve to have your candy taken away. He protests, and begins crying, storming out of the cafeteria and slamming something as he does so. This prompts a teacher aide to talk to him, and go get him a candy.

Now ... I understand that this kid is probably poor, and I really shouldn't have taken his candy, you know? But he was breaking some hardcore rules, and being extremely mean to younger children, so I did it as a form of consequence. Now, this kid thinks "If I cry when I don't get my own way, I will get it..." It's been ingrained in him. So, the next time I do something he doesn't like, guess what? He's probably going to cry. It's really a sad, shameful viscious cycle that I operate within.

"But Mr. Bauer --- no!!!"

"Yes, actually --- I think you deserve it for stealing / hitting another child / cursing / making fun of another child or teacher."

My life = debacle.