Way, Way Too Long

Well, let me give you a Reader's Digest Condensed Version of what has been happening since I last blogged over the summer.

I have successfully finished my Masters in Education. I did get permission to use various images in my thesis, which only enhanced it to a maximum degree. My thesis is signed off and on its way to be bound into what will make it look like a good sized highschool yearbook.

I have begun working at Lewis and Clark Elementary teaching fifth grade. I love teaching, and although sometimes I feel as though this vocation is a sink or swim kind of work, it is worth every bit of energy I put into it. Spending an extra year to get my Master's degree (specifically in curriculum and instruction) has been immensely helpful, although it did not prepare me for the surges of emotion I was to experience during my first year. Not that I was worried about my own capabilities, I worry about the capabilities of other teachers. Here are two examples.

My first student who moved away was a student who needed to stay in my class, having starting out the year with near expulsion and on probation. He was a low student, on an intense behavior plan, who spent more time taking care of his 5 year old nephew that worrying about his schoolwork. Just when I felt we were beginning to make progress, he moves away, and I am left wondering if another teacher can love Miguel the way I do. Another student left school because of very poor behavior choices--to the extent that L & C could not have him attend. He goes to a special school in our district, and I hope too, that Jason's new teacher loves him like I do. So much work is put forth to bring some students to a level of confidence that can allow them to achieve. Teaching is rewarding, but when you work so hard get bring a student feelings of success, it is hard to see them go, and your mind never really stops wondering about how your "lost" boys are doing.

I was also not prepared for parent teacher phone calls. I was not prepared for what parents were willing to admit to their child's teacher. (It should be required to take a class called Parent/Teacher Communication 101 to become certified). Upon talking with various parents, I frequently hear them tell me things like, "My son has a history of touching others inappropriately," "My son was a drug baby," "We had a major blow-out last night," "I had someone stay over last night," "My son saw his older sister slit her wrists," "Her father walked out last night," "My son only eats once a day when he gets home from school," "Nobody ever gets home for him until after 8pm," etc. Some parents seem to have turned to me as a venting source, or a friend. It is a fine line I have to walk between friendly acquaintance and professionalism to make sure the parent stays on my side, therefore some phone calls take up to 15 or 20 minutes because of the things parents feel the need to share about their children. I was/and am continually taken aback by the things I learn about my students through their parents, and because I these conversations I am reminded of why my classroom must stay a safe and consistently safe place. It is usually the only thing my students can depend on.

On a lighter note, going to school everyday and brining my students an exciting world packed full of learning and investigation has been a moving experience. There is intense work required to meet my high expectations, (as seven of my students noted in the state Direct Writing Assessment) and there have been torpedo fish moments, and moments of extreme laughter and fun, where my students beg to continue a lesson. When time does not allow, saying no to that simple and heartfelt request has been hard, but the key is to retrieve their interest in back to back lessons of various disciplines throughout the day.

I don’t think there could be a better profession for me. They say your first year will make or break you, and show that the majority of teachers leave within the first three to five years. Seeing that I so much look forward to the Monday through Friday days of the week, I might be willing to call teaching my cup of tea…which any of my students could tell you is an idiom.