I always complain that UAB's education curriculum is lacking. I mean, they don't teach you what to do when your janitors constantly hang in the teachers' lounge when you are trying to poo. They don't tell you what to do when a kid pees in his desk on purpose. They don't teach you how to balance working, going to school, having a family, and having a life, and today I realized they don't teach you what to do when a student passes away.
News spreads like wildfire on facebook, so I already knew the girl had passed away before I got to school, but it still didn't give me time to prepare. What do you do when a 17 year-old boy falls into your arms sobbing like a baby? What do you do when kids are devastated by a reality they never knew existed? What do you do when a child cries out to you, "But things like this aren't supposed to happen here?"
Classes on strategic teaching and reading in the content area and measurements and evaluations don't teach you how to care for your students, how to cry with your students, how to help your students heal. I am beyond thankful that I didn't teach the girl who passed away. That sounds awful, but I really don't think I could have made it through the day. I have such a bond and connection with my kids, my heart was breaking vicariously. If I had known her.... I shudder to imagine how I would have coped.
Tonight, as a teacher, I love my students a little more. Tonight, as a parent, I love my son a little more. Tonight, as a student, I wish UAB had taught me a little more.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
New Year Resolutions: Welcome Back to School
Wow, first day of school AND a new blog?! I must be getting ambitious in my third year of education. So today was the first day back for students, for the record, as far as I ca tell, teachers don't ever finish one school year to begin another. I actually came out of the better end of the summer deal by being in class full time at UAB. I ended up with more free time than my colleagues in the English Department.
I always dread the first day of school. I was a nervous, anxiety-filled child, and I have remained that way. School was always so nerve-wracking... what if I don't know anyone in the class? What if no one wants to eat with me? What if I wear the "wrong clothes"? The awful possibilities are endless! And this is what I felt as a student and as a teacher! How lame!
Case in point: first year of ninth grade I moved to a new school and wore my nicest hippest outfit (totally in style at the old school)- long hippie dress with empire waist and jelly shoes with socks. Every class I could hear the kids laughing at me but it wasn't until lunch that some bottom feeder was kind enough to tell me, "Hey no one wears jellies with socks. That's gay!" Humiliated I ran to the bottom room to remove my socks. Should have stuffed 'em in my top since I was as flat as a board, but hindsight is 20/20, so they say.
I digress. Every year on New Year's Eve people make resolutions, but really any teacher knows the REAL new year begins on the first day of school. Everything is new and fresh and bright. You have new, high in the sky, expectations for yourself and your students. Here are mine:
I resolve to work out every day, just not today because I had to go upstairs to change clothes and then once I was upstairs I just wanted to grab a drink and relax for a little bit, and then it was dinner time, and soon it will be bedtime. Tomorrow.
I resolve to pick my son up from daycare and prepare a real, home-cooked meal three nights a week. This has been largely neglected for the past two years because I was super busy at UAB, but things are coming to an end this semester so I feel the guilt to absolve some parental and kitchen neglect. In my lazy butt defense, the daycare IS on Curtis's way to and from work and ten miles out of my way, and teaching is exhausting and so is cooking, but eating at home will save money and be healthier. The main reason I don't cook more is by the time I have transformed something from raw and ingredients into something edible, it loses its appeal. The magic is gone and I don't want to eat it. Does this happen to anyone else? OK, daycare and dinner TWO days a week.
I resolve to stress less and appreciate more. It should be clear by now that I am a stress-prone person. Stress aggravates my colon, my sleep, my enjoyment. What I need is a constant Klonipin drip, but doctors frown on that. I am hoping that more frequent blogging will help me with my stress levels by giving me a "vent.' I want to appreciate my husband and son and friends and family more. This is easier to do.
I resolve to continue to be the coolest ass teacher ever. Yes, I am pretty much a big deal. I mean check out these rocking photos of my room. Wouldn't YOU want to learn there? I would! Look at those books, that papasan chair, that rockin' apple, that clever poker-themed bulletin board. My principal LOVES my roos. No, seriously loves it. This makes me super proud, because 1. positive recognition is rare and so wanted and 2. we worked a LONG time on the room. I meet my students today and I am so excited for the school year. I wanted to blog or keep a diary my first year, but I was so overwhelmed with a new baby, a new house, a new job, and going back to school full-time that I time for little but grading, creating work, and sleeping. This year is different. This is "supposed" to be the year a teacher hits her stride, so I am excited. The kids seem great and that's always a relief. One girl said to me today, "My brother said you were a horrible teacher." To which I retorted, "Well, your brother sucked, so is he really the best judge of character?" Technically that's what I said in my head before I jumped across the table and ripped her throat out all "Mean Girls-style"( I was going to say all "Alley McBeal-style" but I didn't want to show my age....
I leave you with a quote that continues to resonate with me about the importance of teaching and a video clip the head of my department shared with me (be warned there are a few choice words, but it is apropros.
I am a teacher! What I do and say are being absorbed by young minds who will echo these images across the ages. My lessons will be immortal, affecting people yet unborn, people I will never see or know. The future of the world is in my classroom today, a future with the potential for good or bad. The pliable minds of tomorrow's leaders will be molded either artistically or grotesquely by what I do.
Several future presidents are learning from me today; so are the great writers of the next decades, and so are all the so-called ordinary people who will make the decisions in a democracy. I must never forget these same young people could be the thieves or murderers of the future.
Only a teacher? Thank God I have a calling to the greatest profession of all! I must be vigilant every day lest I lose one fragile opportunity to improve tomorrow.
Ivan Welton Fitzwater
I always dread the first day of school. I was a nervous, anxiety-filled child, and I have remained that way. School was always so nerve-wracking... what if I don't know anyone in the class? What if no one wants to eat with me? What if I wear the "wrong clothes"? The awful possibilities are endless! And this is what I felt as a student and as a teacher! How lame!
Case in point: first year of ninth grade I moved to a new school and wore my nicest hippest outfit (totally in style at the old school)- long hippie dress with empire waist and jelly shoes with socks. Every class I could hear the kids laughing at me but it wasn't until lunch that some bottom feeder was kind enough to tell me, "Hey no one wears jellies with socks. That's gay!" Humiliated I ran to the bottom room to remove my socks. Should have stuffed 'em in my top since I was as flat as a board, but hindsight is 20/20, so they say.
I digress. Every year on New Year's Eve people make resolutions, but really any teacher knows the REAL new year begins on the first day of school. Everything is new and fresh and bright. You have new, high in the sky, expectations for yourself and your students. Here are mine:
I resolve to work out every day, just not today because I had to go upstairs to change clothes and then once I was upstairs I just wanted to grab a drink and relax for a little bit, and then it was dinner time, and soon it will be bedtime. Tomorrow.
I resolve to pick my son up from daycare and prepare a real, home-cooked meal three nights a week. This has been largely neglected for the past two years because I was super busy at UAB, but things are coming to an end this semester so I feel the guilt to absolve some parental and kitchen neglect. In my lazy butt defense, the daycare IS on Curtis's way to and from work and ten miles out of my way, and teaching is exhausting and so is cooking, but eating at home will save money and be healthier. The main reason I don't cook more is by the time I have transformed something from raw and ingredients into something edible, it loses its appeal. The magic is gone and I don't want to eat it. Does this happen to anyone else? OK, daycare and dinner TWO days a week.
I resolve to stress less and appreciate more. It should be clear by now that I am a stress-prone person. Stress aggravates my colon, my sleep, my enjoyment. What I need is a constant Klonipin drip, but doctors frown on that. I am hoping that more frequent blogging will help me with my stress levels by giving me a "vent.' I want to appreciate my husband and son and friends and family more. This is easier to do.
I resolve to continue to be the coolest ass teacher ever. Yes, I am pretty much a big deal. I mean check out these rocking photos of my room. Wouldn't YOU want to learn there? I would! Look at those books, that papasan chair, that rockin' apple, that clever poker-themed bulletin board. My principal LOVES my roos. No, seriously loves it. This makes me super proud, because 1. positive recognition is rare and so wanted and 2. we worked a LONG time on the room. I meet my students today and I am so excited for the school year. I wanted to blog or keep a diary my first year, but I was so overwhelmed with a new baby, a new house, a new job, and going back to school full-time that I time for little but grading, creating work, and sleeping. This year is different. This is "supposed" to be the year a teacher hits her stride, so I am excited. The kids seem great and that's always a relief. One girl said to me today, "My brother said you were a horrible teacher." To which I retorted, "Well, your brother sucked, so is he really the best judge of character?" Technically that's what I said in my head before I jumped across the table and ripped her throat out all "Mean Girls-style"( I was going to say all "Alley McBeal-style" but I didn't want to show my age....
I leave you with a quote that continues to resonate with me about the importance of teaching and a video clip the head of my department shared with me (be warned there are a few choice words, but it is apropros.
I am a teacher! What I do and say are being absorbed by young minds who will echo these images across the ages. My lessons will be immortal, affecting people yet unborn, people I will never see or know. The future of the world is in my classroom today, a future with the potential for good or bad. The pliable minds of tomorrow's leaders will be molded either artistically or grotesquely by what I do.
Several future presidents are learning from me today; so are the great writers of the next decades, and so are all the so-called ordinary people who will make the decisions in a democracy. I must never forget these same young people could be the thieves or murderers of the future.
Only a teacher? Thank God I have a calling to the greatest profession of all! I must be vigilant every day lest I lose one fragile opportunity to improve tomorrow.
Ivan Welton Fitzwater
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