love, sex and magic

I asked students in their homework last night to decide on a theme song for themselves. (I introduced theme today, so it provided a nice intro). As we went over the various questions this morning, Tybey volunteered what he thought my theme song might be: 

"Oh yeah? What do you think?" [bracing myself]

[impish grin from Tybey] "Love, sex and magic."

After a little research I have decided that was a totally inappropriate answer.

But in the moment I simply responded to Tybey's suggestion by announcing my actual theme song, "Bad to the Bone." Kids were unfamiliar so I was urged to "sing it!" 

So I did. Every last word. Jamal knew the beat and the guitar part so he filled in all the background noises and it was a regular stage show. Not one kid talked during my performance. I have since considered doing all my lessons in song. 

Sweet and Cold

This morning I woke up and sat outside at The Bean Exchange with my journal and a cup of coffee. And I went to Headhouse Market-- which boasts the most breathtaking display of locally grown organic produce in the entire Northeast. They must have a coach; some sort of expert that trains them how to arrange those tomatoes and kale. I bought two plums because I recently read a poem about plums titled "this is just to say:"

I have eaten 

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which 

you were probably

saving 

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold.

I am using the poem to teach imagery. I ate one of my plums on the way home and was not disappointed; it was both sweet and cold. 

All the city's pretty surprises this morning serve as a stark contrast to my gloomy week. On Thursday Donte kicked a chair again and again into one of my special needs students who had fallen on the floor. I lost it. Trembling, I yelled, "Get out of my room! I am disgusted by your actions! You are not welcome in here!" All day I fumed and cried over the inhumanity of humanity. Since then, God has moved my heart towards mercy. I wonder at what kind of past experiences motivates a child to act in such a way.

All the ugliness of the week included, today is still beautiful. And I am glad for it. Here is a picture of the market I took last year. It's the same today, except for the melons. 

 

Big, fat question marks

Today was not a good day. I think it started on Sunday when I tried 15 phone numbers and only 1 worked. Which means that 14 kids thought I didn't follow through on my consequences. Then today I had to administer a diagnostic to determine the kids' reading levels. The 7th graders were dolls, of course. The 8th graders were terrors. It felt a whole lot like last year and mostly I felt really stuck. Like, what kind of strength and creativity will it take to bend the wills of 70 adolescents? Maybe not their wills, but their desires, their routines.... 

I feel the judgment from the other grade teachers as my noisy groups pass their perfectly straight, silent lines in the hallways. They are so hoity-toity. Little kids are so easy. 

And Mr. Ashe marked up my lesson plans with red ink and big, fat question marks. 

The pressure gets my shoulders tight and I find that I go ballistic in the classroom over the smallest things. The kids don't respond well (I don't blame them) and then it's a power struggle and mostly a lose-lose situation. Boo. 

Both Guns Blazing

Week 1 is officially over. All the joys associated with the school year are coming back to me: the relief when the kids run out of the school on Friday, the satisfying taste of beer at happy hour, the uninterrupted journaling and coffee on Saturday morning. It's the little things, you know?

I am going to take an optimistic leap and say that the year is off to a pretty good start. The new administration isn't cutting corners and I think that's awesome and essential to having a functional school environment. The kids notice that things are different this year; not only in the school at large, but also in my classroom. Thursday I made some 8th graders stay in from recess and walk up and down the stairs in lines until they got it right. Isaiah, furious that he had missed recess two days in a row, spat venomously, "Georgia changed you!" I grinned. He didn't mean it as a compliment, but that's how I took it.

I guess I've turned the whole compliment system on its head. These are the comments that make me blush these days: "This class is BORING!," "Mr. Yaster, can we come be in your line? Ms. Linton is irkin'!" "Ugh! Why are you giving us work? I hate this class!"

Being a hard ass is exhausting, though. Come noon on Friday I was spent; I started getting sloppy in my classroom management and have been a little anxious about it since. I hope I didn't undo everything. Can't sweat it now, I guess. Just got to go in Monday with both guns blazing.

On a lighter note, here are my favorite responses that I got on a survey this week:

Some things you particularly value or cherish: My aunt's neckelness and ring

Something that bothers you (a question, a mystery, a problem): If you keep me in for recess. (that was Isaiah's)

Some unusual or interesting things you have seen: A raccoon got hit by a car and his family pulled him out the street. (which I think really is unusual, don't you? I love that he wrote that. What a sweet boy.)

Something you daydream about: is being a ninja

Some things that you oppose or reject: The thing that I reject is fresh little girls.

glowing and growing

I treated my roommate, Sara, to water ice today. ("water ice" is the yankee way of saying "italian ice") We both got the cantalope flavor and I found it to be just the ticket for my parched throat. As it turns out, talking in teacher-voice for 5+ hours will wear a girl down. My chords are out of practice.

I am exhausted and don't feel at all like typing this post. It just so happens, however, that I need some practice on consistency and follow-through. So, as we say in middle school English classes, two glows and a grow:

Glows

1.) Nasir remembers my birthday

2.) Michael and Girl (whose name escapes me) asked to borrow a book from my classroom library today. On their own volition!

Grow

1.) 8th graders MUST be silent when I talk. (and no more calling me, "Katie")

Ok. That's two grows. Whoops.

Bee Optimistic

T- 3 days until Year Two is officially underway. Mr. Ashe, Harrity's new principal, likes to say that we are "going live" on Tuesday. Which communicates a sufficient amount of anxiety and build-up to be appropriate, I think.

This past week we had "professional development" at Harrity every morning. The afternoons were spent in our classrooms cutting and pasting and vacuuming rat doo-doo, etc.  I spotted a perfect display bookshelf in a corner of the science lab. I wanted it. The only obstacle to satiating my desire was the PILES (literally) of rat excrement covering every last square of inch of the beautiful wood. I flipped it over and swept it out and took paper towels into the nooks and crannies. And then pushed the squeak-squeaking thing all the way to my room. I knew that my mutation as a teacher-scavenger was complete.

I have included pictures of my classroom in this post for your viewing pleasure. (Display bookshelf included). I feel really good about it. I think it really came together considering that most of the stuff in there was begged, borrowed or stolen. When school started last year I had my rules posted and some background on a bulletin board. So I'm pretty much feeling like a bad ass right now.

Mr. Ashe has officially given me permission to organize a school-wide spelling bee this year. I am SO excited. I plan on showing "Akeelah and the Bee" to generate some enthusiasm. I've already begun assembling a bee costume, too. I'm sure I'll need it. 

All in all, I am really optimistic about this year. Such feelings are strange -- foreign. On Tuesday another teacher asked me if I was high. I guess my optimism shows.