Rose-Colored Glasses and Other Cliche Objects Through Which to View the Year

As I sit here in a fancy downtown coffee shop, drinking my pretty espresso drink (shout-out to my girl/fave barista Allison for free coffee--how else can I afford this costly musing?), it's easy to think back on the semester, and even on the year, with only tenderness for the sweet kids in the classes I've taught.  While this might be somewhat true (I could think of a couple of students that I would describe as "sweet"), that's really not what my experience has been.  And you know what?  I'm not looking for that.  If I was, I should probably teach rich four-year-olds in a Montessori school, and that's totally antithetical to my entire existence.

For example, my students have done/said the following:
-made a lot of fart noises when they realize that I'm taping them
-said, "Miss, I found a book about your anus" while holding a library book about Uranus
-said lots of other gross things when they thought I couldn't hear them/didn't think I would understand
-braided lots of hair instead of working on assignments
-not had anything to write with 60% of the time

While they can be endearing and frustrating at the same time, I've come to realize that my students from this semester are actually people who think deeply and have entire worlds inside of themselves.  I think that the danger of reading so many articles about education and being in classes about pedagogy rather than actually teaching can cause us to think of students as objects to be manipulated rather than real human beings who act of their own accord. This semester was definitely helpful for redressing those tendencies.  My last classes of teaching were centered on a poetry reading/celebration time, and I had some doubts about whether some students would actually turn in meaningful poems to share.  While there were a few who didn't turn in anything at all, I was pleasantly surprised by a few students--they created poems full of struggle, epiphany, and exploration.

Perhaps even more revealing of their peoplehood was when they read their poems out loud to the class.  I shared a poem that I had written in college to get them going, in case they felt embarrassed (I've realized that opening myself up to them is probably the best way to motivate them to do real work).  And they blew me away with what they were willing to share with the class, and how they were willing to support each other by listening.  My CT made copies of all of their original poems, printed them on cardstock, and gave each student a stack of their own poems to give out that day (Poem in Your Pocket day).  I returned home with two back pockets full of poems they wanted me to have, and I kept them in there the whole day.  (I'm pretty sure some fell out at Target later that afternoon--spreading the gift of poetry!)  I left that day with a bit of sadness but with a renewed sense of understanding and purpose in teaching.  This is what it's all for--giving people of all ages an opportunity to use their voices to come together to create meaning.  Oh, and to create fart noises.

Musings on middle school

Now that I've finished my third teaching video this semester, I actually think that I cringe a little less while looking at myself teaching.  It's not that I've fixed all of my weird tics and hand motions.  No, a lot of that seems almost out of my control.  I think I've just become more comfortable with who I am (on a computer level, anyway).  Unless I do heavy duty editing work, I'm going to say "cool" and "sooo" a lot.  I'm also going to have a double chin from certain angles.  No fixing that one.  But the part that I've actually enjoyed watching is my interactions with students, especially on a one-on-one basis.  It's hard to know whether or not you actually had a connection with a student when it's just one-sided.  But when you view those interactions and get to observe the student's body language as well, it affirms your sense of, "well, that didn't go so badly!"  And for me, that's a positive thing.

I'm teaching a few more times in the upcoming week, and then I'll be done for the semester.  I've really enjoyed getting to know the eighth graders because I really feel like they let me in on their lives a little more than my students last semester.  Also, they're at an interesting point in their lives: still in middle school, so they let their guards down every once in a while, but they're mature enough to understand important topics and the implications of some big ideas.  They will all gather around their teacher when she starts reading a picture book out loud in the library, and they'll write poems about struggling with sexuality.  It's been a really positive experience, and I hope that they don't lose their sense of wonder and community that they've built in middle school.  It'll be interesting how they'll react to more freedom.

I've also started my year-long plan this week, which was more complicated than I thought it'd be.  I mean, there's so many things that I want to accomplish in a year's time, but there's just so many interruptions and shorter weeks and grading periods that also have to be woven into your plans.  I could see myself taking several weeks to go ahead and plan a lot of this stuff before the year starts because there's so much to take care of, especially at the beginning of the year.  I was also thinking about all of the additional responsibilities that teachers naturally take on.  My CT is the head of her department, and she pretty much is in a meeting or has to lead a meeting every single morning.  Then, obviously, she has to follow up on those meetings and take care of whatever business is necessary.  With that duty on top of teaching, when do you ever have time??  She's played hooky a couple of times this semester, and I actually think that's refreshing--sometimes, you just have to take a day to yourself to unwind and take a few steps back.  I'm looking forward to that time...we do have a couple of weeks in May, right?  :)

Planning and Not Planning for a Year

When I taught freshman comp, there was not a whole lot to think about when it came to overarching planning.  I had to do units on specific material at a specific time in a specific order.  There was no deviating from the plans of the powers that be.  And really, that was okay with me.  It seemed difficult enough at times to make sure that I was filling all of the class time (and to be honest, I usually didn't--my students loved me).  But I think that I wasn't actually considering any larger goals for my classes.  My planning strategies made sure that students were following all the linear writing step processes (which I now know is not necessarily helpful) and got all the required papers done.  I'm not sure that I was actually encouraging higher level thinking beyond how to analyze an essay...I mean, WHY bother analyzing an essay in the first place?  They all had to complete a final exam, but it was kind of a blow-off assignment, and I'm pretty sure I communicated just that to my students.  Sigh.  Oh, misguided youth.

So, I really like a few of Smagorinsky's strategies for ending a year, especially the writing portfolio to reflect on growth in writing and the multimedia project to reflect on personal growth (and not the extended definition papers--geeze, he's really into those).  I think the choice of one over the other (portfolio versus project) would kind of depend on the your group of students for the year, and even the age group--I would probably assign the project for 9th and 10th graders, whereas I'd want older students to be more reflective about their writing pieces throughout the year.  We've had to utilize a process log when turning in texts for our Teaching Composition class, and I think it's been really helpful for me to look through my attempts, especially failures, to notice techniques and other strategies I used to help me through.  Mostly, I think it's necessary to do these end-of-year reflective pieces and projects.  If not, what has the whole year been for?  Just constantly producing without thought of the greater whole?

I also like Smagorinsky's suggestions for teachers to complete an end-of-year portfolio as well.  It makes sense for professional reasons, but it also seems helpful for planning out the next year, with what worked, what didn't, or patterns of problems or successes that you notice.  Perhaps even better is the fact that you're keeping all of your writing in a notebook and reflecting on that writing, so that you can model this behavior to your students.  Look!  This is a necessary thing in the real world!  My CT keeps all of her notebooks from various years, and she's really open with her students looking through them.  This past week, she showed them a notebook from a few years ago when she first visited Austin, a poem she found, and a poem she wrote modeled on that found piece.  She shared aspects of her life with them, what was important then, and compared it with her notebook from this year, which she said needed some more love.  The students all loved looking through her work (it's almost like getting to read through an adult's diary), and it inspired them to get re-engaged with their own notebooks.  And they made some really cool work that day, with found poetry and other creative work!

I guess I'm just learning more and more how important transparency is for students.  I'm not sure that I'd keep a notebook that's too personal, but I want to make sure that students see me writing for authentic  purposes and reflecting on what they're learning and how I'm teaching--I think this builds trust between us.  I also want them to know that they're coming to school and working to be involved in a reading and writing community not just to finish certain tasks or papers everyday.  They're building their knowledge constantly to reach a higher plane--knowledgeable, involved citizens in a democracy where they can make change.  And I want them to know that I care enough about them to think long and hard about the things I want them to do in class.