Roots. We were talking about root words... The 7th and 8th graders... not amused.
The fifth graders have individual whiteboards in their desks. Honestly, it comes in pretty handy when we do examples in class. It does not, however, come in handy all of the other moments during the day when they feel it's appropriate to be doodling on their boards. During this year some time they picked up on the practice of writing their "moods" on the board. For example, "Mood: sick." That's maybe one of my favorite moods to read. Lately, though, they've been telling much, much more. Yesterday I read a board that said this:
Mood: Peaceful
Animal: Garlic cheese boat (I don't know what this is.)
Food: Everyone of them
Color: Lime green, lime blue (Lime blue is also my favorite color.)
Quote: "A person is a person no matter how big or small." ~ Dr. Suess.
Another said this:
Sport: football
Colors: red, black
Animals: tigers, snakes
Mood: sad (this was accompanied by a crying face)
Another board simply said:
Joey (I'm pretty sure this is the board's name... My students are naming their whiteboards, people.)
Ahhh.... life is sweet.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The gospel in your belly
I don’t think I expected every day of teaching to be so tumultuous. It’s a constant game of Chutes and Ladders, and usually, usually I’m winning. When I’m losing, I’m losing hard, and it takes a strong dose of deep breaths and steady footsteps to let the game go, to remember how great this is. And ya’ll this is the time. This is the only time that matters.
During morning recess, if I don’t have recess duty, I usually take some time to relax. Not today, though. Today three of my students came in to prepare a birthday present for the twins in the fifth grade. The fifth graders are so strange. They brought two, small black bricks over to my desk.
“Ms. Davis, will you hide these for us for a while?”
Slowly all of the fifth graders filtered in and out of my classroom, signing the bricks. We ate ice cream fluff, we listened to music, we gave bricks out... a pretty good birthday.
If you would have asked me a year ago if I would be teaching fifth grade (or sixth through eighth grade) this year. My answer would have been no. Absolutely not. In fact, I probably would have told you I wouldn’t have been interested in Magis if it meant I had to teach middle school. I was so stupid. I get a little weepy when I think about it, and the tears come a little spattered at the edge of my eyelids as I work to hold them back. This is a silly thing for tears. But, honestly, I could spend all day, every day with the those squirrely fifth graders.
I couldn’t do this every day if I didn’t love it. I’m not one for working this hard. I like these that come easy for me. I mean, who doesn’t. I like a challenge, but I like that challenge not to get in the way of anything else I might want to do. But this... this is perfect. This is what I want to be doing. And I’m loving every minute of it. Even the minutes I hate, even the minutes that feel like nothing should be this hard, I love. If that makes any sense.
During morning recess, if I don’t have recess duty, I usually take some time to relax. Not today, though. Today three of my students came in to prepare a birthday present for the twins in the fifth grade. The fifth graders are so strange. They brought two, small black bricks over to my desk.
“Ms. Davis, will you hide these for us for a while?”
Slowly all of the fifth graders filtered in and out of my classroom, signing the bricks. We ate ice cream fluff, we listened to music, we gave bricks out... a pretty good birthday.
If you would have asked me a year ago if I would be teaching fifth grade (or sixth through eighth grade) this year. My answer would have been no. Absolutely not. In fact, I probably would have told you I wouldn’t have been interested in Magis if it meant I had to teach middle school. I was so stupid. I get a little weepy when I think about it, and the tears come a little spattered at the edge of my eyelids as I work to hold them back. This is a silly thing for tears. But, honestly, I could spend all day, every day with the those squirrely fifth graders.
I couldn’t do this every day if I didn’t love it. I’m not one for working this hard. I like these that come easy for me. I mean, who doesn’t. I like a challenge, but I like that challenge not to get in the way of anything else I might want to do. But this... this is perfect. This is what I want to be doing. And I’m loving every minute of it. Even the minutes I hate, even the minutes that feel like nothing should be this hard, I love. If that makes any sense.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Ave Maria
I have a classroom of entrepreneurs. I should probably be teaching the fifth graders business. They'd thank me in the long run. Some day Ella's clay meal business will become a world-renowned toy company. Perhaps, David's free swing tickets will become the Ticketmaster. Mayhaps. Mayhaps not. I don't know when they work no these projects. It's certainly not while I'm teaching. Many of them I had not even noticed, but this weekend I decided to read the little pieces of paper they have taped to their desks. Each paper offered a different ware or service to anyone who was interested. Most were free, but a few came with a penny or nickel price tag. These fifth graders drive a hard bargain.
Unfortunately for them, I do not have a heart or mind for business. If it were up to my teaching, they would all become hopeless, dreaming artists with nothing to live off but their love of everything. Beautiful, but useless.
Most of them don't love learning. At least, they act as though it's the book stuff they don't enjoy learning. That's fair, I suppose. I don't think I'd want to spend my days reciting and practicing using intensive and reflexive pronouns, either. So I don't really mind that they're not that interested in my rants about the parts of speech. If only there were some way to channel their passion for learning about life, people, friendships and nature into a passion for learning in general. And I'm not talking about learning pronouns. Forget the pronouns. I'm talking about asking big questions. To plowing deeper into the chasms of things that I probably don't know. I'd love that. But now were stuck on how boring those pronouns are and how much we want to go to recess. And, for now, that's what I expect, but I'll keep hoping and trying for more.
Unfortunately for them, I do not have a heart or mind for business. If it were up to my teaching, they would all become hopeless, dreaming artists with nothing to live off but their love of everything. Beautiful, but useless.
Most of them don't love learning. At least, they act as though it's the book stuff they don't enjoy learning. That's fair, I suppose. I don't think I'd want to spend my days reciting and practicing using intensive and reflexive pronouns, either. So I don't really mind that they're not that interested in my rants about the parts of speech. If only there were some way to channel their passion for learning about life, people, friendships and nature into a passion for learning in general. And I'm not talking about learning pronouns. Forget the pronouns. I'm talking about asking big questions. To plowing deeper into the chasms of things that I probably don't know. I'd love that. But now were stuck on how boring those pronouns are and how much we want to go to recess. And, for now, that's what I expect, but I'll keep hoping and trying for more.