I’m from colored popcorn.
From Pledge and wooden floors.
I’m from sleepovers and movie nights.
From summers in the pool.
I’m from paper and pencils.
From Oregon trail and dial-up.
I’m from divorce and tense pick-ups.
From being the in-between.
I’m from support checks carried back and forth.
From “Your father…”
I’m from kids table and rules.
From “Do as I say, not as I do.”
I’m from messages and stresses
That I don’t want Troy to be from.
What will Troy be from?
That is up to me.
Trying out some poetry in preparation for our poetry writing unit:
What if there was no CCRAP test?
I might get to teach students what they need,
without the pressure of this test
in the background of my mind.
What if my worth as an educator
wasn’t decided by a standardized test?
I could stress less, smile more.
I could make a bigger difference.
What if there was no CCRAP test?
I would not be sitting here dreading going to school
Dreading the next few weeks of testing
And everything that goes along with it.
What if educators made the decisions?
There would be no CCRAP test.
The events leading up to this event are a little sketchy and may or may not have taken place during writing workshop. However, it involves several pig erasers in my student, Al’s possession. Said erasers were nameless at the time of the slice.
Another student and I suggested the pigs be called Bacon, Hot Dog, and Pork Chop. Al did not find this entertaining.
He continued to brainstorm names, accepting Pork Chop – not because it’s a food, but because it’s just a good sounding name. He still needed two more…
“Ohhhh!!! Spiderpig!!!” Al shouted.
And then the low chatter of students raised and then transformed into the singing of Spiderpig – as a class, they sang. Al danced to a beat (not the beat), eyes closed, basking in the voices of his classmate’s singing.
“Spider pig, Spider pig. Does whatever a….” it didn’t last long, they weren’t all very confident with the words… But the memory of the impromptu song will last much longer.
After deciding he would write about this for the last slice of March, he said of this event: “One day the blogs are going to get old and everyone is going to forget it, but I’m never going to forget it.”
The sudden changes in mood and conversation with fifth graders still surprises me sometimes often.
I had a couple students at my table during reading workshop today. We read Langston Hughes’ Mother to Son and were talking about it. Really they were talking about it and I was listening composing this slice in my head. It is amazing what these kids are capable of understanding and the conversations they have:
Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor –
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
“I’m picturing the son leaving for college. And the mom is saying that life is going to be hard, but he should keep trying.”
“Yeah, but I think she wrote it on a note. Cause people don’t just go around and talk in poems.”
“No one’s life is easy. Everyone has struggles.”
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
“It means there are lots of struggles, obstacles. She’s saying there are hard things in life.”
“And you think things are better, you’re done. And then there’s more.”
Don’t you set down on the steps
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now –
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
“She’s telling her son not to give up. ”
“Plus, if you sit on a tack, that would really hurt.”
“And falling off the stairs and landing on tacks and nails…”
The sudden changes in mood and conversation with fifth graders still surprises me sometimes often.
“Maybe you could add onomatopoeia here? To describe what it sounded like when we crashed?” I suggested to a student about his slice as another boy sat next to him typing.
He looked at me quizzically, so I gave him a few examples, “Boom! Crash!”
“Sound of my heart…” sings the boy next to us. I couldn’t help but start cracking up! Perfect timing.
My car ride home is quite a haul, but it allows me to reflect on the day. Yesterday was one of those days, where among other things I lost my patience too many times.
On my drive, all of a sudden it hit me why that one kid was shoving a book in my face earlier…
I was cranky. I had a headache. And one of my students held a book up to my face, fanning the pages, while I was trying to give directions to another. I’m not sure exactly what I said, but it was something like, “Why is that in my face? Go sit down.”
Earlier in this day I had published a Joy List post on our classroom blog. Do you see it yet?
It took me until the ride home, but I realized that he saw this. He saw that I love the smell of new books. He saw that I was having a bad day. He was trying to bring me joy.
He may not have gone about it in the right way, but he tried. I owed him an apology.
And an apology he got. I pulled him aside this morning, apologized to him and thanked him for trying to bring me joy. He smiled, laughed, nodded and went back to work. I think I am forgiven.
My kids may not always know how to express it appropriately, but they are good, compassionate young people. I am lucky to spend my days with them!
It was one of those days that is bound to happen once in a while. Especially when that day is accompanied by a sinus headache and a classroom full of fifth graders.
It was one of those days where you can’t tell if the students are acting out more than usual or you are just crankier than usual.
It was one of those days that things go missing, you raise your voice too often, and you spend your plan time cleaning and reorganizing because that is all you can manage.
Luckily, today was one of those days where I spent my plan time cleaning and reorganizing. And upon my irritated tossing and frustrated searching, I stumbled on some envelopes that my best friend and former co-teacher left me for “those days” when she changed schools.
I read through the different envelopes that remained and found one the perfect one for today. “Open when…You’re stressed.” I ripped open the envelope to discover a toy dart gun. Despite my cranky attitude, I couldn’t help but smile and chuckle out loud. The stress didn’t go away, but it did dwindle some after the thoughtful gift from a friend and a few minutes of target practice. It got me through that last half hour of the day. Tomorrow will be better.
