Alecia Whitaker Author Visit

One of the things I love about my career of teaching is how I can merge it with my career as a writer. Of course, it's a natural blend... I'm an English teacher. This year, I have the honor of teaching Speech and Drama, a concentrated aspect of the Language Arts Curriculum. This nine week elective explores the world of Shakespeare, provides opportunities to perform speeches, dramatic duets, monologues, read full-length plays and what I'm most excited about... our last unit... poetry performance.

So, when The Carnegie Center for Literacy and Learning reached out to me to bless my classes with an opportunity for an author's visit, I jumped at the chance. Of course I did! How often to middle school students get to meet a real, live published writer? (aside from their old Drama teacher: ha). But, I'm not famous. Alecia Whitaker is, though. And, even though she currently resides in NYC, she is a born and raised Kentucky girl.

To prepare, my students and I brainstormed questions to ask Alecia. Oh, they did such a good job. I was so proud of their behavior as they filed in to the library to watch Alecia's presentation. She was amazing! Engaging, funny, down-to-earth with interactive demonstrations that got my kids on their feet, actively engaged.

But, the best part? The Carnegie funded enough books for each and every one of my students to receive their very own signed copy. You should have seen their faces when they opened the first page  and saw their own names inscribed with Alecia's signature. In fact, the next day... kids raced in to school asking, "Do you have my book? I can't wait to read this book." One student said, "I've never actually read an entire book, but I'm reading this book!" That was the shining moment of the entire experience.

So, as I drag them through the laborious process of writing our thank you notes... "Why we gotta write notes? My mama said it's enough to just say thank you" to which I responded, "Whatever your mama does is perfectly fine, but in my class we take the time to write out notes. Imagine how excited Ms. Whitaker will be when she receives a big envelope I'm mailing all the way to New York City and all of these beautifully decorated, carefully created thank you cards spill out".

And... I shot an image of the famous red doors of the Carnegie Center on the screens for the students to see the building and promoted all of the wonderful opportunities they have available for them. Right here... in good old Lexington, Kentucky.

With that, they put their heads down with construction paper, markers, scissors and glue sticks and got to work. Then, they walked out of the classroom, clutching their very own copies of Wildflower to their chests.

All around, an awesome experience.

http://www.fcps.net/news/features/2015-16/wildflower

Call a Parent

I'm a parent-calling teacher. I try to call every one of my students' parents to launch the year just to establish a relationship... but I also have this thing... if you act up in my class, I call your parent. In front of the entire class. Right then; right there. I call.

Because to "send a child out" of my room is stupid. I don't understand the philosophy. We teachers are in charge of teaching... if a kid "acts up", sending him "out" tells the rest of the class you don't have control. And I have control... not of much, but at least of my instruction.

Okay, okay... I understand that sometimes teachers have to "send a child out" from time to time in order to teach the rest of the class. And don't think for a minute that I don't consider the rest of my class when I'm dealing with the one or two or three kids who are there to make trouble. I do! In fact, I look directly at those who are there to learn to reorient myself and remind myself of my mission...

to teach.

And yes... I did lose my temper today with a particularly rambunctious class today. I said, "My instruction is a privilege; not a right. If you choose not to participate in my elaborately planned lessons... that is your decision. But, I can provide you with the same material in the form of 'seat work' versus my fabulous lessons".

Perhaps that is stupid... of course it is! I know! I have a teenaged son myself. I get it. But, that's mostly what I "get". These are kids. Kids who come to class with their own agendas that don't always align with mine. Their job? To test me out. My job? To win them over.

So when they talk back and tap tap tap their pens or "act up", I am stern... I also call their parents because it's more effective to deal with discipline parent-to-parent. I say "parent-to-parent" vs. "teacher-to-parent" because of two reasons... I am also a parent and I'm a school mom. If my kid (and when my kid) acts up... I want to know. Right then. Right there.

So, that's what I do. I call.

Home Training

No home training? That's okay... I provide it at school. Home training. The knowledge to not blow your nose into a crumpled piece of notebook paper and leave it behind for your teacher to pick up. (yuck and yes... it's true) To walk into a classroom in an orderly fashion, to raise your hand to speak, to say ma'am and sir, to not talk back.

I remind my pickles... "I am a mother. I am somebody's mother. Now, I ask you... would you want your mother to be treated the way you treat me?" and that gets them every time. Oh, I'm not beyond guilting my kids into acting right. Not one bit. And it works. The class goes quiet. A few mumble, "No". All get into line.

Home training. Perhaps all of my students have parents who hammer manners hard. Of course they do! But, middle school kids like to flex their muscles. I call my seventh graders "the middle school sophomores" because that is exactly who they are. They are not intimidated like the sixth graders and they don't have their heads on right like the eighth graders. They're mouthy, rude and disrespectful. So, I mama them to death.

Because, really... that's what we teachers are... school parents. We see our kids as many hours (if not more) than their own parents. So, it's up to us to teach basic skills and manners. It's not just academics we teach to this age group... especially not to middle school kids. It's good old fashioned home training.

At school.

Not a Hero

For inspiration, I remind myself that in order to be a teacher hero, one must teach in the face of adversity. No one makes a movie about a teacher at a privileged school (except for maybe "Dead Poet Society, but even that was about a subversive teacher trying to institute change from within). So, as I gear up for this week, I know that the struggles I will face will help to strengthen me as a teacher and will most importantly, make a change in my students' lives.

Teaching this age group is a process of planting seeds. Little seeds that will take root further in their educational paths. When they delve more deeply into Shakespeare's work, they will have some working knowledge of the Elizabethan Era. They will have heard at least two Langston Hughes poems. Know who Maya Angelou is. Seen a clip of a Greek Chorus from "Oedipus Rex". Read play versions of classic American short stories such as "Legend of Sleepy Hollow", "Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Gift of the Magi". Gotten up in front of their peers to perform speeches, monologues and dramatic dialogues. Know how to shake hands, meet eye contact and say, "Nice to meet you".

Skills that will develop over the course of time. Wisdom that will be understood later in their maturation journeys. Perhaps teaching like this is going "above their heads", but standards and expectations must be really high in order to engage these students' attention.

So, if in the process, I have to battle against barriers in the classroom and against home lives that are less than desirable... the rewards will be all the more sweet when my students grow up and achieve. I know this to be true since I've been teaching for so long. I've seen my previous students soar in their lives and come back to me with the ultimate "teacher paycheck". Their life successes. And if in the process, I achieve the ultimate label of "teacher hero", that will be awesome.

However, I don't need a teacher hero movie made about my life or a book deal offered in order to be successful. Every day, my little ordinary instructional lessons are the meaning and point of the work I do. I've just never taken the easiest paths. I seem to always choose the road less traveled. And according to Frost, that makes all the difference.

hablas español

That's it! I'm so embarrassed, but I must confess. I absolutely MUST learn to speak Spanish. It's the one gap in my otherwise impeccable "highly qualified teacher" status. I am mortified to admit that when I even begin to enter "translate" into google it immediately comes up with Spanish-English, I spend so much time learning a few words, a poem, a monologue my Spanish speaking students can read, it's ridiculous. I'm trying so hard, but I cannot/will not be able to meet my students needs if I can't speak to them! And! This is MY fault. My stupidity. This, from a first-generation Sesame Street kid. I should know better. One year of high school Spanish has gotten me nowhere! Enough already!

Okay.. so, I've learned the phrase, "Buenos Dias, mi estudiante favorito" that I absolutely butcher, but my kids giggle with delight when I greet them with that. Today, one of the poets I so adore and had the privilege of meeting posted, "Abrazos!!!" and I had to "translate" to learn it meant "hugs".

What an idiot I am. Seriously.

Those who know me... know I mean business. When I say I'm going to do something... I do it. I don't ever just lament my lot in life. I change it. I will sign up for a class at our local literacy center to learn Spanish already. And I will immerse myself until I get it. And sigh... at my age... it's gonna take a lot. Unfortunately, our old addled brains don't acquire a new language easily... not like kids. But, I'm determined.

And oh... how I admire people who read poems in two languages. It's just so beautiful. It is certainly not too much to ask of myself to take the time to learn another language. It's not.

Mostly because there is nothing I won't do for my kids.

Teacher's Teacher

 

I didn't just decide to return to the classroom this year... it's been a two year process, actually. January 2013, I registered at the University of Kentucky in order to acquire the six post-grad credits I needed in order to renew my teaching certification, as I did not want it to lapse. Then, I served two long-term sub positions beginning November 2014 until May 2015. Here it is... August 2015, and I'm lucky enough to be back in the classroom full time with a renewed certification and optimism as well.

The courses required could either be education classes or English classes, so I chose to pursue Fiction Writing in line with my "other" career as professional writer. I had published several poems and essays in various journals and anthologies and even published two books of poetry, but I was new to the world of fiction writing. So, that is what lead me to my teacher: Gurney Norman.

Gurney was poet laureate of Kentucky, has written several books novels and has served as a professor for thirty years. For the good old Wikipedia reference, please visit: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gurney_Norman

to check his university bio/contact info: https://english.as.uky.edu/users/gnorman

What these sites won't tell you is the kind, generous and brilliant professor Gurney is. Not one teacher in undergrad or graduate school ever took the time and patience with my studies as Gurney has. He is the ultimate story-teller teacher, spinning tales of his own childhood spent with his grandparents in the Appalachian Mountains and his young adult life in Palo Alto, California with those weird kids who played in a band called The Warlocks and those two boys, Hewitt and Packard who hung around. He encouraged us to write the ordinary little stories we use in conversation because the details in those stories are the jewels for fiction.

Gurney honors me by reading my work. He still does. We have stayed in communication via emails and visits to discuss our work. I am privileged enough to be asked to write a study guide of sorts for his novel Divine Right's Trip. The process of writing that work was a delight. I was able to put on my "teacher glasses" to explore a critical analysis of the novel in question format. Now, what's interesting about this experience is that I did not read that novel before I signed up to study with Gurney. Instead, my friend recommended it to me once I had launched in class. Talk about the strange alchemy of the universe... it is a novel that spoke directly to my heart and lead me on a journey into my own counter-culture experiences traveling with the Grateful Dead and Phish. It's also a novel full of purposeful symbolism and a true work of literature.

What I love most about Gurney is that for all of his accomplishments, what he says he is most proud about his life is his role of teacher. That is such inspiration for me. He is the ultimate teacher's teacher. And I could not be more proud to call myself his student.

Can't Adopt Them All

Last week, I was hit with a stark reality about one of my students who is in a dire circumstance. My response? I ran sobbing to my husband, "We need to apply to be foster parents now". Of course, he responded by researching the process that would take more time than we had in order to take this child into our home.

And then... perspective bounced us back. My husband used to tease me when we first started dating. "We'll need to buy a farm house to take in every one of your children." However, that is simply not possible. The reality is... I can only be a school mom. I can love my students and nurture them as best I can during the school day. But, we can't take in every single child who is in crisis. It's just not possible.

I always say I have one biological child and one hundred and fifty children a year. And that's true. I adore my pickles. But, there is only so much one teacher can do. Accepting those limitations is a reality so many teachers understand. I don't think there are many teachers who don't devote their entire beings to their students. We have a stash of granola bars and crackers, candy, tissues, band-aids on hand at all times. We spend our own money on our classrooms when we are paid pitifully. We come into school early. We leave late. We take on extra duties all the time. There is no limit to what we teachers give and give and give every day. I am not the exception to the rule.

Last week, I had to float to other teachers' classrooms to teach while we did a three day motivational training program at our school. It was wonderfully informative. To see the time, consideration and devotion other teachers put into making their classrooms inviting and beautiful was so inspiring. And seriously? If you think decorating concrete walls is easy... you just don't know.

And this is not specific to inner-city teachers. Last week, my son went on freshman retreat at his (very expensive, private) prep school. The first thing I did when we went to pick him up was to go to his teachers and hug them and say, "Thank you". Three days on a bus to an adventure with a gaggle of children, responsible for their well-being and directing them through this retreat was a thirty-six hour marathon. Good thing this weekend was Labor Day. They'll need an extra day just to restore themselves enough to walk back into the classroom next week.

I am just so proud to be a member of this club: Teachers Who Make a Difference. We can't take them home with us, but we can make their days brighter with smiles, love, laughter and devotion. And that will have to be enough.

Restorative Medicine

In order to brainstorm a topic for this post, I scrolled through my previous posts only to find the common theme: exhaustion. Ha. And of course. I have to smile remembering when I first launched this career and "observed" a teacher years and years ago (before I student taught). I thought to myself at the time, "This is a cool gig. It doesn't seem that taxing and you get to read and write literature and share your love of academia with kids. This is definitely something I can do as I get older."

And part of it is true... I can do this gig until I get older. But, I am older... twenty years older than when I started. What is not true... it's not a relaxing gig. Not one bit. That part, I misunderstood completely. Teaching is physically demanding. Mentally challenging and taxing to one's patience.

Of course, everyone knows the teacher "jokes" about having to train one's bladder to pee between classes and only having fifteen minutes to eat lunch and not really having summer's off. Those realities we all know. Here are some other facts. I spent six hours in ninety degree heat driving around neighborhoods to do "home visits". There was simply not enough water to drink to replenish the dehydration that comes with six hours in that temperature going from home to home.

Moving into a new classroom and decorating it took days and days and days to do. I spend every waking hour researching, creating and designing lesson plans. In between, I created a new classroom website that links to my writer's website and back and forth. I call parents whenever I can. I get to school at seven a.m. every day and when we had Open House last week, I didn't get home until eight p.m. Weekends are spent planning and grading and grading and planning.

My classroom is adjacent to the band room so it so incredibly loud. That means my ears ring and my voice is hoarse from projecting over them every day. Finally, my new support shoes gave me blisters on the top of my feet (from the "cute" strap) so the next day, I wore flats that gave me bleeding blisters on my heels.

I'm grateful to be young enough still to push through these physical demands. No matter my body was so sore this weekend, I could barely make it through grocery shopping. I've lost eight pounds since the school year started (and that's a good thing, for sure!).

So why physically tax one's self in a "professional" career? Because there's simply nothing else I'd rather do. The rewards of student success heal every blister, restore hoarse vocal chords and laughter is the best medicine. That's the secret weapon of teaching... I don't think lawyers or doctors or business people laugh as much as teachers. Children laugh more often throughout the day than do adults, so when  you spend all of your time with children... you get to laugh.

And that makes all the difference.