Wing and a Prayer

What I love about this gig is that I can do what I love most: design and create a curriculum. From "scratch" almost. Of course, I have the state curriculum guidelines, but this group of kids... their range and experience makes the word "differentiated" an instructional challenge.

I have spent hours and hours and hours researching dramatic duets that are at their reading level, of high interest and yet, still appropriate for their age. Then, in order to be efficient with my classroom time and management, have tried to study the rosters of kids I've know for barely three weeks to pair them. It's a rough sketch... it will change once I'm sitting in front of them, of course... but some structure needed to be put into place to put an effort into efficiency. Those who don't speak English or have challenges that completely inhibit them from reading/speaking will be the pairs' "directors".

Just now, I had the crazy idea to take Romeo and Juliet's balcony scene and the fight scene and break it down (not change words)... just edit/whittle... and create six opportunities for pairs to try. Not all of the pairs will be offered these Shakespeare scenes.  I'm seriously throwing this out there to see what works. They have been singing Sonnet 18 for three weeks... it's not completely out of context...

but it may be beyond their reach and so what? Even if they merely stumble over the words... exposure. Perhaps it will be a shining moment. If it begins to be too frustrating by mid-week, we'll switch gears and grab another duet.

I'm off to buy plastic swords. That should entice the boys. I hope.

Befuddled

Middle school kids definitely confuse me. Today, after teaching (and participating) in dramatic play on the black top to demonstrate stage directions, the kids said, "You should be the phys ed teacher, Ms. Beck". I laughed, "I am the least athletic person in the world." Their response? "But you always play with us... phys ed teachers just direct us. They never actually play with us".

I raised an eyebrow and said, "But I'm an English teacher, you guys. I teach English."

That confused them. "English teacher? What do you mean, you're an English teacher?"

Drama/theater/public speaking... that's the curriculum I'm teaching this year. I've sung Shakespeare's Sonnet 18 with them every single solitary day for the past three weeks in order memorize it. And yet, they don't connect that my class is merely a concentrated aspect of the language arts curriculum. Weird... and what? I guess they've just never been introduced to William Shakespeare yet. They don't have a context in which to refer in order to understand my pedagogy.

Another confusing scenario from this week... I zig left. They zag right. When I have the kids up on their feet doing interactive, engaging activities (kinesthetic learning)... they act like fools. So, this afternoon (in exhaustion, I must confess)... I decided my last two classes would do silent seat work. Their task? After I taught the parts of a stage, I gave them a blank template and colored pencils to create and draw their own set designs. Absolute silence. Concentrated energy. After about ten minutes of just staring at them (I was too tired to even go to my computer to work. I just sat at the front table and stared into space)... I got up to walk around to check their progress.

Kids who can barely read and write... were drawing the most beautiful set designs. Creative. Inventive. Beautifully executed. I was blown away. Absolutely stunned.

Maybe I should switch gears and become an art teacher.

However, I feel blessed... I can use phys ed and art and music and  literature within the Speech and Drama classroom. Not a bad gig at all.

Strangers Stopping Strangers

... just to shake their hands. That was the first lesson I taught my pickles this first quarter of Speech and Drama. That's right. The fine art of a firm handshake, direct eye contact and learning one of three phrases to master: "Nice to meet you"; "Nice to see you"; and of course, "How do you do?" with the appropriate response.

Not because my students don't have class... oh, they have class. They operate with dignity and respect within their own spheres. What don't know how to express it. The words, customs and phrases they lack is what teach. The same phrases/behaviors I taught my own son. Because the reality is: good manners will take you everywhere. First impressions count. Meeting one's eye and a firm handshake imply your ability to succeed and conduct your sophistication in "polite" society. Not that it is superior to other forms of greeting. Every culture has its own customs of greeting. However, there are socio-economic disparities in every culture in every culture and the upper eulachon of those said cultures all share common etiquette. Those are the skills I strive to impart upon my darling pickles for the most easily attainable behaviors that will, after practice will become rote.

Every morning, I stand hall-duty near the breakfast line. I have always expressed how much I love "duty"... especially morning duty since I am an early-teacher vs. an afternoon-teacher. Whenever one of my pickles approaches, I extend my hand for that shake/greeting and they already respond in kind. What a wonderful way to launch the day. Perfect instructional strategy of repetition breeds mastery without tedium of rote recitation.

And... it just makes my whole day to greet them. They inspire me every moment of every day.

No Rest for the Weary

After an arduous start to the school year (while also launching my son in a new school), you would think I would have taken the weekend off. Alas, that is just not my nature, I'm afraid. In Friday's meetings, I learned a lot of new information about my pickles, so I spent that afternoon and evening brainstorming to revamp my lesson plans to better serve them. I was delighted by facebook "team building" with my new colleagues that punctuated my work with laughter and shared jokes. I swear, this is the most cool group of teachers with whom I have ever taught. Really cool, down-to-earth, funny people. I'm so grateful

Saturday was met with domestic chores... vacuuming, bathroom scrubbing before I took my son shopping for more school clothes and good (albeit matronly and not-very-cute shoes) for my aching feet. I don't think I  sat down one time during the first two weeks of school. Well, okay, once. When I was so frustrated with a class that instead of saying, "I cannot believe I'm actually begging you to let me teach." Instead, I bit my tongue and simply sat down. The class went immediately silent. They had yet to ever see me sit. After about three minutes of silent contemplation, patience (and prayer), I got back up and jumped back into instruction. So, ya... ugly, good-support shoes are going to be a saving grace for me in the upcoming weeks. And to think... I'm such a diva, I used to actually teach in high heels "back in the day". sigh. These days, I can barely wear my cute flats.

Today, I shopped for groceries (after planning the week's meals) and for more school supplies. I ran endless loads of laundry and organized my domestic world as best as I could to make this working mom gig run more smoothly for next week.

In between, I stole a few restorative moments. My son and I had lunch at a restaurant before shopping. And he was so nice all day (of course he was... he was getting new clothes!). My husband and I spent Saturday evening together at the pond, tiki torches and candles cast a lovely glow and I finally relaxed. Today, I watched "Louder Than A Bomb" for inspiration before I stole a forty minute nap after I got a pedicure. Again... my poor feet.

And now... that Sunday dinner has been served, dishes washed, my lunch for tomorrow packed, my car loaded with all of the supplies for my classroom, I can sit back and contemplate.

I heard a funny quote last week: "Teaching is a nine-month-long sprint". Indeed. It also happens to be the only career that completely contains my brain. And for that, I am grateful.

Sprinting in my ugly shoes is exactly what I am delighted to do.

Baby Steps

At the end of the day, when I am exhausted and overwhelmed... I must reflect over the amount of content my classes have covered in a mere seven days of instruction. It's amazing. Head-spinning, but inspiring. Yes, I hit the ground running and these pickles have run just as hard. For the most part. Of course, there are some classes I still haven't "reached". But, the trick to teaching is to focus on the classes that are succeeding and dig deeper to reach those who just haven't yet gotten there. Most importantly? To believe that I will... I will reach every student who graces my classroom.

Teaching is hustling if you do it well. Reflecting over what worked and what didn't work is key. Dynamic lesson planning is integral to meeting each and every student's needs. Because Speech and Drama is a somewhat new content for me, I spend every "free" moment researching, reading, brainstorming. Could I be any luckier? This is a dream for an academic.

Balancing academics and "fun" is a struggle for me right now. I know the kids just want to have fun. I mean, this is their elective. I get it. So, there is little to no homework... but there is a lot of class work. When the pickles return on Monday... they are going to give their very first speeches. It took a lot of instruction (teacher lead) to reach this point where they will "perform" (student lead). I just know that it will all be worth it after the students feel the success of overcoming their fears, anxieties and insecurities in presenting public speeches. Empowering.

So, when a student who could barely pick up his head and mumbled everything actually smiles now and will be able to present his speech: that is a win. When another student apologized for his behavior in class and I reminded him every day is a clean slate: win. When a student actually spoke above a whisper: win.

The key is to focus on the successes and not the struggles. Counting blessings instead of listing grievances.

Label Me

When I accepted this position at this school, a teacher friend of mine begged me not to. "You will always be perceived as a 'bad' teacher if you go there. You will be labeled".

If that's true... so be it. Label me. As the teacher who makes a difference. The teacher who takes on the "worst" schools with dignity and pride. The teacher who digs in and teaches with lovingkindness to children who so so need GOOD teachers.

And I am... a good teacher. Actually, I won't even be modest. I am gifted and talented at my craft. The reality is... at those "utopia" schools, whomever teaches those students won't really make a difference. Those children will succeed regardless of who their teachers are because they have strong family and community and economic support.

My students do not have that. They deserve the BEST teachers. If we are going to change our country... we must do it from the ground up. I have never been one to voice my political views on social media or talk talk talk. Instead, I walk the walk. Over the course of twenty years, I have served the most needy children in Ohio and Kentucky. Children who have very little privilege. Children in poverty. Children in the foster care system. Children who are struggling.

For the one hour a day they are in my classroom, I give them everything I have to give. I never once lower my academic standards or my expectations for their success. Ask them to RISE and they will. Devote every waking moment to researching, writing, creating lesson plans and then being dynamic to reflect over what worked and what didn't to better serve them is what I do best.

It is my honor and privilege to serve this school. Label me the teacher who cares. The teacher who overcomes obstacles and barriers my students suffer to educate them. I teach them how to shake hands properly and make eye contact. How to say, "Nice to meet you." How to raise their hands in class. Then... I teach them the most beautiful poetry Shakespeare offers. Ask them to stand in front of class and learn how to give public speeches. Direct them to embrace dramatic monologues and act them out. Through the process, empower them to be productive members of society.

Because they deserve nothing but the best.

Keep Your Head Up

Okay... what in the what what? I am struggling! Seriously! And really? Okay, so I have this seventh grade class that just. hasn't. bought. in. I mean... really hasn't "bought in" and I'm perplexed. I haven't met a jar of pickles that hasn't loved me as much as I loved them. What did I do wrong? What haven't I done? Most importantly... what do I need to do?

So... first strategy of attack. I called every single parent in the class yesterday afternoon. One of those, "Just wanted to reach out and introduce myself since I'm new to school. Your child is an absolute joy and I'm so delighted to have them in class this quarter". Phase One.

Phase Two: plan "Fun Friday". Instead of hammering hard... I'm going to play into their strengths. They want to tap a beat? Drive me crazy by tap tap tapping with their pens on the desk while I'm lecturing? Okay... time to unleash Shakespeare Sonnet 18. I already copied the poem in text. I've got the music. We will read it. Listen to it. Sing it. Then, I will group them up. They can turn it into a rap. Translate it into Spanish. Act it out. Go crazy!

But first... my secret weapon? Good old Tupac. And thank God for him. These pickles are already dazzled by the photo of him I have on my collage wall. They exclaimed, "Oooh! Is that Tupac? I love Tupac!" Ooooh, child... you weren't even born before he died.

But I was. I was alive when he was alive. I was introduced to his poetry by my very first pickles and it's time to unleash my secret weapon. "Keep Your Head Up". 'cuz that's what I'm gonna do. That's what I'm going to inspire them to do. We are all gonna keep our heads up.

Phase Three... I'm going to go to the computer, take attendance and pretend that the song "magically" popped up. On those fabulous speakers I have that BLASTS music like nobody's business.

Then, Ms. Beck is gonna show her skills. I'm going to sing sing sing. Dance dance dance. We're gonna Tupacalypse Now. Share the love. Become inspired.

Then... we're gonna show Shakespeare who's boss.

Or perhaps remind them...

I'm the boss.