Road Rage

I have a long commute to school each way. It's about 53 miles one way and it takes me about an hour. It's been a blissful summer not having to spend that much time in the car each day! But with in-services in full swing, I've had to get back into the commuter routine.

Yesterday, as I was entering the ramp to merge onto the freeway, I had a tailgater following me. It's difficult not to get irritated with tailgaters. I can handle drivers who cut me off (I doubt they sit there and wait for me to get as close as I can before veering in front of me). I can handle those annoying drivers who are going too fast and who are weaving in and out of traffic (I can give them the benefit of the doubt: maybe his wife is in labor, maybe he's trying to catch his flight on time, maybe his hair is on fire). But tailgating is deliberate, purposeful, and just plain rude. Especially when I'm going the speed limit.

It occurred to me yesterday that what my little Corolla really needs is a backwards honk. Every car's horn faces forward. I've never heard of car where you can easily honk at the person behind you. It would be fairly easy to do a makeshift one. I could strap a backwards-facing bullhorn to the top of my car. I could find a way to program it with a super loud honk, or a really loud voice saying "GET OFF MY TAIL"

But the most effective way to get rid of a tailgater is to ease off the gas pedal and start going one or two miles slower. Boy that makes them mad. They get into the other lane pretty quickly after that. I guess it's not a very nice thing to do on my part, but it does get rid of them!

When "Sorry" Isn't Enough

Well, it's the first upset parent of the school year, and the school hasn't officially started! I've dealt with upset parents in the past, but it's never been my fault. It's been more like "We're devastated our child is deaf and we're taking out our grief on you". I can handle that.

But this time I can't help wondering if I am somehow to blame.

We have an incoming student who has recently been diagnosed with Aspergers. I went to his IEP at the end of last year, and the decision was to place him in Ms. A's room with a full time aide because another student (who has Autism) will be in that class too with his own full time aide. It was originally hoped that the incoming student could be weaned off of his aide so that the other aide already in there could handle both of them. This was our principal's idea, and I knew it was a bad idea at the time, but it's difficult to argue with someone who's main concern is budget issues.

Fast forward to August, and everyone is highly anxious about this situation. Poor Ms. A who was feeling overwhelmed at the thought of having two other adults in the room and two children who had very high needs. Both of the aides were nervous and thought it would be too much for everyone to handle. I'm a nervous wreck because it's my job to oversee the "weaning" process and make sure that by a certain date, our principal will only have to fund one aide for two kids.

So we convinced our principal that it would be in everyone's best interest to move the incoming student to a different classroom. Everyone is breathing a sigh of relief...

...except for the student's parents. And they have a right to be upset. Their son had already met Ms. A, and the parents had been talking up Ms. A. He had seen his name and birthday on the classroom wall. And now we're throwing a wrench into all of this, introducing unwelcome change.

I tried explaining that his new classroom teacher is fantastic (which she is), but it was hard to reassure his mother. I can't help thinking that if only we had made the more sensible decision at the end of last year, all of this unpleasantness could have been avoided. If only I had veto power over the principal--if ever I could choose a superpower, that would be it!!

Never Enough Time

Today marked the first day of Round Two of in-services. It was difficult being in school and not being able to work in my classroom. I thought I had been proactive about it by going in for a couple of days over the summer to set things up, but it turns out that a teacher's work is never done. I've been well aware of this fact for quite a while so I'm not sure why I thought I could get everything done before in-services started.

I've decided on a theme for my room. I found some fun border with cartoon-looking sneakers around it, so I'm going to expand on that with shoe and foot cutouts to make a "Steps to Success" room. I thought it would be appealing to my kindergartners as well as to my eighth graders. Anyway, I hope to post pictures of my room sometime this weekend after Back-to-School night.

Wow... I can't believe it's this time of year already!

Back to School Numbers Meme

I was recently tagged by Gina at Where's the sun to complete this Meme! The perfect post as I spend some time in New York with my sister and brother-in-law...

Back To School Meme
Completed in Reference to (Self or Child): Self

1. Number of years teaching or your eldest child has been in school (k through college) ? 3

2. Amount approximately spent on Back to School Items so far including clothes? $100.00

3. Number of Days until school starts in your area (+ or - if it’s started)? 6 weekdays till kids are in the building!

4. Approximate distance school is from your house? 53 miles

5. Amount of time it will take you or your child to get to school from your house by car or bus? 60 minutes

6. The actual or approximate number of students in the class you teach or your oldest child’s class? 16 on my caseload

7. The number of classes in your grade or your oldest child’s grade level? 2 Resource Rooms

8. The price to buy a full student lunch at school? No idea!!

9. Number of schools in your district? 57

10. Early dismissal days already built into the calendar? 6

11. Price paid for the most expensive back to school item so far? $30 for a visual timer

12. Time school day ends? 3:30

According to the rules, I now need to tag as many sites as my lowest number. So I'd like to tag these three teachers:

A Teaching Life

But Wait! There's More!

Miss Teacher

I Heart Ice Cream

I've just completed day two of our three day training: Capturing Kids Hearts. I wasn't really sure what to expect. They say that by the end of it, we'll have a more safe and caring school atmosphere among staff and among students.

Day one was best summed up as: Dr. Phil meets Joel Osteen; or, in other words: preachy pop psychology. There were also some team-building exercises which, though corny, did make me appreciate my colleagues as people and not just teachers.

Day two was about teaching our students to treat each other with respect and kindness. It was about empowering them to self-manage instead of playing the policeman. A lot more people were more comfortable with today's agenda because it took the focus off of ourselves and onto our students.

Not sure what Day three will bring...

Even if this training had turned out to be completely horrible, we still would have had the excellent food. We've had breakfast, lunch, and two snacks catered to us daily. Yesterday, they put out a make-your-own-sundae bar that caused me to chuck my dinner plate into the trash and knock people down as I ran to get in line for ice cream! Well, not literally, but I did think about it...

Eat, Drink, and Be Merry....

...for tomorrow, school starts!

Gymnastics in the Classroom

As I was watching the U.S gymnastics finals on floor in the Olympics the other night, I couldn't help but think about education.

As the girls did their floor routines, the announcers were dead silent until a mistake was made. Then they pounced all over it. They made comments like:

"And she steps out. Out of bounds. Another tenth of a point"

"And that, that is a disaster of epic proportions" [said after a fall]

"This is shocking"

"That's out of bounds"

"Because of that, a major deduction"

"Well, besides the misstep, she did a good job"

Now, I fully understand that this is the nature of competitive gymnastics, and I also know that the girls don't hear those comments as they are doing their routines. Nevertheless, it got me to thinking about how we talk to our students. As a special education teacher, I can tell that some of my students (usually those who qualified later in elementary school) have internalized negative comments to the point where they don't believe that they are capable of doing anything right in the classroom. Some don't know the feeling of accomplishment and success. No wonder they have such low self-confidence and self-esteem.

I think that my role as a special educator is to provide opportunities for my students to have success (and thus build up a CAN-do attitude) without lowering expectations. Success is cheapened if the task is too easy.

Tall Glass of Lemonade

In the beginning, we interviewed two applicants for the other Resource Room position. We thought both would do a pretty good job, but I was definitely leaning towards teacher number one. Our principal hired teacher number two, and I was a little disappointed, but got to work at establishing a good relationship with her. Then teacher number two accepted a different position.

Competition for teaching jobs in Michigan is really, really tough, so I didn't think we would have too much trouble hiring someone else. I wasn't looking forward to spending my time re-interviewing people, but oh well, right? But it turns out all my worry was for nothing, because teacher number one was still available to work, so we hired her!!!! Yay! I got my way after all!

I just love it when things work out!

My Acceptance Speech

When I started this blog in 2006, it was just a fun way to keep in touch with my family. My other purpose was to chronicle my adventures as a young teacher so that when I am old and gray I can remember what it was to be a twenty-something educator. And whaddayaknow? I discovered a whole cyber-world of other teachers out there who needed a place to vent, ramble, and reflect. Thank you, roller coaster teacher, for passing along this award to me!

I will spread the love by sharing the award with the following bloggers that I have come to admire and who I enjoy reading:

Miss Teacha at Confessions from the couch

The teacher and mother at Where's the sun?

The very positive high school teacher at Cal Teacher Blog

Mark Pullen (who makes me think) at The Elementary Educator

Trying to Make Lemonade

Two days, two phone calls, two opportunities to practice self-control in the panic department.

On the first day, my new colleague (the newly hired other Resource Room teacher) called me to say that she had accepted another position "closer to home" and "with better pay". I appreciate her honesty, and I surely can't blame her for choosing the higher salary, but the "closer to home" part is highly ironic: I have a 55 minute commute; she had a 10 minute commute. Hmmm....

On the second day, our dearly beloved school psychologist called to say that he was retiring. Although he was part time, he was the oil that kept our special education machine running. He will be hard to replace, not only because he was so fantastic, but because school psychologists are a RARE species in Michigan. We may very well be out of compliance soon after school starts if we don't find someone pronto.

Relational is Foundational

I go back to school on the 19th. The kids don't come back until after Labor Day, but we teachers have two weeks (seven days) of professional development beforehand. The first week, our district is shelling out 40 grand for us to attend Capturing Kids Hearts. At first, I (along with several others) balked at the idea. I mean, if you don't know how to care about kids, how did you get hired as a teacher in the first place? Isn't relating to children kind of foundational in your job as an elementary educator?

But then I thought about our staff and our decidedly negative school atmosphere, and I've come to the conclusion that the in-service may not be such a bad idea. If it helps just one teacher recognize that first graders do not understand biting sarcasm, then it might be worth the money.

I have already decided that this next year, my room (which is visited frequently by special education aides and other special ed. team members) will be a "no principal-bashing or others-bashing" zone. I mean, I realize that people need to vent when things are unfair or just plain ridiculous (myself included), but instead of focusing on what we cannot change, we need to focus on what we CAN do to make our school a less toxic environment, and to help each of our students succeed.

The Dread

Disclaimer: I absolutely love teaching and I am very thankful to have a job :)

The Dread is something that I have been fighting every year since I've been a real teacher. You'd think, going into year 4, that I would have a better handle on it this time, but I really don't.

For all of you non-teachers out there, The Dread is the feeling you get when back-to-school is imminent. It is not unlike the sword of Damocles hanging over your head. Or maybe it's an evil shadow blocking out the sun. It's whatever approaching doom looks like.

After my first year of teaching, The Dread came upon me about five weeks before back-to-school, about halfway through. It has been an exercise in willpower to keep The Dread at bay for as long as I can. This year, it seems to have hit about 2 or 3 weeks before back-to-school.

The thing about The Dread is that if you're not careful it can absolutely ruin what vacation you have left. It's all too easy to pout and sigh, and think of the complete loss of freedom right around the corner.

I'm trying to be pro-active about it this year. I'm going to cram in so much fun in the next two weeks that I will literally rupture the time-space continuum. I have so many novels to read, TV and movies to watch, crafts to make, sleeping in to do, and yummy things to bake that I just might implode from all the fun.

Meanwhile, here are moms in August everywhere...

Some Statistics For You

Probability of getting struck by lightning: 1 in 600,000

Probability of winning the lottery: 1 in 18,000,000

Probability of a student you taught 3000 miles away in California moving to Michigan and ending up at your school on your caseload: I have no idea. But it just happened to me today!!!

Can't Stop Smiling

I am an unashamed thrift store shopper. In the past, I've found some incredible deals on brand name clothing that looked new! Lately, I've been meaning to get over to Salvation Army and look for white shoes to wear with my bridesmaid dress for my sister-in-law's wedding.

While I was there, I decided to browse the dress pants section (thinking about school dress code already). I had my eye out for gray pants, but I happened to lift a pair of green corduroys off the rack. I noticed right away that there were American Eagle tags dangling on the side. Obviously brand new and never worn! Salvation Army's tag said $5.99, but since it was a pink tag, it was half off.... They weren't exactly my size, but I tried them on anyway. It wasn't until I was in the dressing room and about to step into the pant legs that I realized that American Eagle's price tag was $34.99.

Hmmm. I was forming a plan: Pay three dollars for the green pants (which didn't fit me) at Salvation Army; return them to American Eagle at the mall for whatever I can get for them without a receipt. The thrift store gets their money; AE gets to resell their merchandise; and I would get store credit. Brilliant! It was a risk considering that AE might not take it back without a receipt, but usually they'll give you the sale price when that happens--gotta be more than three bucks, right?

I took the risk.

When I got to AE at the mall and walked up to the counter, I said: "I'd like to return these, but I don't have a receipt". She narrowed her eyes and looked over the pants. "Which AE store did you get these from?". I told her the truth: "I don't really know". She said, "Well, I can only give you the sale price". (Called it!)

She rang up the pants and looked at her computer screen. There was a long pause where I was hopefully thinking to myself... "Ten bucks? Fifteen? How much?" She finally said: "That'll be $37.05 in store credit"

It was all I could do to stop myself from screaming and clapping right there in the middle of the store!

Crisis Averted

I wasn't planning on going to school this morning, but I did after I received a message from my new colleague saying that she was free today. We'd been meaning to get together and to get to know each other better before the school year started. So I figured I would get more for my gas money and at least continue to set up my classroom while I was in town. (I say "continue" because I spent about six hours on it last week.)

While we were chatting, my new colleague mentioned in passing that the principal wanted to talk to us about our classrooms. Our classrooms?? My room that I've beet setting up exactly the way I want it? The five gigantic bookcases and two heavy file cabinets that I moved all around by myself? The twelve boxes I've already unpacked? IS SHE MOVING ME?? I tried not to erupt into a volcano of panic (after all, she'll have plenty of time to see me stress out during the school year; no need to scare her just yet). I focused instead on asking just what did the principal mean when she said she needed to talk about classrooms?

Apparently, she wants to move our Occupational Therapist out of the music room so that she won't have to work with the choir and band practicing in the background (a decision I applaud). But she wanted to move her into the second Resource Room/Office/My-room-last-year, and move both of us special ed teachers into the same miniature classroom (one third the size of a regular classroom). This decision I did not applaud. The special education teachers that have gone before me in that building had tried that arrangement, and in their words it was "a nightmare".

Fortunately, I was able to talk to our principal today and sort some things out. She asked me if I had a better idea and I did (contrary to all those times when I gripe but have no alternate solution). Why not move the OT into my classroom (the slightly bigger Resource room)? She only works two days a week and I think I have some space to accommodate her. It might be tight, but it will work. Our principal was thrilled; our OT is much happier; and a major nightmare was averted. The End.

Does This Make Me a Nerd?

My very first Masters class is officially over today and I am bitterly disappointed about it. I had really, really enjoyed it. In fact, I am starting to wonder if maybe I like to be educated more than I like to educate. Hm.

There are three more weeks until the onslaught of "professional development" begins, and until then, here is my to-do list. I wish you all a happy to-do list as well!

What if?

Some food for thought:

Is it easier to be an adult with a visible disability (missing limb, cerebral palsy, etc) or with an invisible disability (deafness, high functioning autism, aspergers, ADHD, etc)?

Is it easier to raise a child with a visible or invisible disability?

One mother shares her frustration:

We have twins with autism and we find ourselves always explaining (apologizing) for them because they will shout out the most obvious yet hurtful things to others... such as "what's wrong with your face", "your teeth are dirty", "You're old" They have no filter on them whatsoever. It is a huge struggle because I don't want anybody hurt like I know my sons are hurting. At one point I made shirts that said "We're not rude, we are not ignoring you, we just have autism" but I had a mother come up to me and said that it was inappropriate to make public my sons' medical condition.

It has gotten to a point that as soon as I walk into a public establishment with them I want to take out a blow horn and say "Look everybody, my boys are acting the way that they are acting because they are Autistic."

I took them to Disneyland last year and to all you parents with these very special children you know that the majority of them adore rides because of the tight feeling of the pressure of the ride restraints. But you also know that the majority of them push, pull and flail around why waiting to get on the ride. I had taken papers from our doctor into guest services and they gave us front of the line passes due to their condition. I have to say that I have never been treated so rudely by parents in my life. Every time we used the pass we had people yelling out the rudest, vilest things. Just because my sons were not in wheelchairs people just assumed that we were cutting. We were even pushed a few times. I don't think there is any easy remedy for people’s perception of this handicap.

If only we could all be more accepting of those who are different!

Reality Check

I just stumbled upon a site featuring Britain's Missing Top Model. It's very similar to America's Next Top Model, only in Britain's Missing version, all of the contestants have a physical disability. I watched a very interesting clip on YouTube (warning: girl poses in underwear) which was a thought-provoking nine minutes, worth your time if you have it. The clip brought to mind several questions.

First, can adult women with disabilities be just as catty, jealous, and deceitful as their non-disabled peers? Apparently, yes.

Is deafness any less of a disability just because it's invisible? In the clip, the woman in the wheelchair was very resentful towards the two beautiful deaf women... you'd never know they had a disability just by looking at them. Is that fair? Personally, I think that any type of disability is a true disability if it impairs your ability to function in society. If you can't communicate with 99% of the population unless you have an interpreter constantly at your side, then that should qualify as a disability. I think it's just as much of a disability as someone who can't access a building unless there's a wheelchair ramp available. That's my opinion anyway.

Was it fair to take the interpreter away from the deaf girls for an evening? I don't think so. It's one thing if the girls had decided for themselves that they wanted to try and do this on their own. But the truth is that they were probably never taught how to speak intelligibly, read lips, or hold their own in a large group, thus making them entirely dependent on the interpreter. So to take that away from them would be like taking the prosthetic leg away from the one girl, or taking away the wheelchair from the other girl. Some of you may disagree, but I believe that communicating is just as important as walking.

Reality shows are such a great indicator of what our society thinks is important. Who's the prettiest? Who's the most successful business person? Who's the best singer? Who's the strongest? Who's the bravest? Who's the best cook? I suppose that shows that focused on: who's the meekest? who's the kindest? who's the most humble? really wouldn't get that many ratings at all...

If you don't have a novel to read, then write one!

I have a huge assignment due Tuesday for my "Curriculum Foundations" class. I have to write my cultural autobiography and reflect on how my background and experiences shape how I interact with students, as well as how my background and experiences relate to my role as an educator. It's turning out to be quite in-depth: twelve categories with anywhere from five to thirteen sub-questions per category... and then the reflection.

I don't mind the assignment. Who doesn't like talking about themselves? Especially when you're as fascinating as me? (kidding there, of course... or was I?)

Anyways, some of the questions required information that I'm a little sketchy on, so I had to make a few phone calls to the grandparents. I learned some interesting things that I didn't know before.

First, my maternal grandmother has her masters degree!! That's quite an accomplishment for a woman back in the day... Way to go for sticking it to society, grandma!

Second, my paternal grandmother (who is 100 percent Chinese) has two names. The first was given to her by her grandfather. This is her formal Chinese name. Her second name, the one everyone knows her by here in the U.S, was given to her by the nurse who delivered her. Grandma jokes that the nurse happened to like old-fashioned names--she named the first three girls Bessie, Annie, and Minnie.

I will let all of my non-family readers (all 3 of you) guess which of the three names belongs to my grandma by studying the picture below of a two-year-old version of me sitting on grandpa's lap:

Summer Reading

It's been awhile since I've been truly hooked on a book series. I believe the last time was the summer of 2004 when I read the "Mark of the Lion Series" by Francine Rivers. I have read lots of books since that time, but no series has gripped my attention to the exclusion of all other activities.

.... until the "Twilight" Series by Stephenie Meyer. Those of you "in the know" about children's literature may wonder if a story about a teenage girl falling in love with a vampire is beneath me, but I can assure you it is NOT! And apparently there are a lot of adults out there who would agree with me. I'm not typically into science fiction novels, but this series is the exception. The themes throughout the story (like love, acceptance, and addiction) are timeless!

It seems that there are a lot of other people out there (teenage girls? romance enthusiasts? undercover vampires?) who want to read the series at this point in time. It's probably because the fourth and last book is coming out on August 2nd. At any rate, it means that a cheap-o like me who's not going to run out and buy the books has to wait an excruciatingly long time to reserve a copy from the library. I'm currently next in line to get a hold of the second book, and the past week and a half have been ABSOLUTE TORTURE. A frustrating lesson in patience.

For those of you who aren't sure if you want to invest the time to read the book, there's always The Twilight Movie (hopefully it will do the book justice!). Click to view the trailer.

But His Puppets Are Still Scary

Things I hated as a child and now love as an adult:

• Naps
• Spinach
• Baths
• Wiping my nose on a tissue
  
• Mr. Rogers

I was thinking of Mr. Rogers today as I hashed out my "philosophy of education" assignment for class. Something he once said seems to encompass what I believe about education:

"It's easy to convince people that children need to learn the alphabet and numbers. How do we help people to realize that what matters is how a person's inner life finally puts together the alphabet and numbers of his outer life? What really matters is whether he uses the alphabet for the declaration of war or the description of a sunrise, and his numbers for the final count in Buchenwald or for the specifics of a new bridge" (Fred Rogers)

Amen.

Something New

Well, I may not know what I'm going to do when I grow up, but I do know that I wanted to change a few things on my blog. Obviously the layout is different; I've also added some labels and links to the side. Now if only I would use my hours of free time to clean the house, you might be able to see the floor and the counters around here!

Life Choices and Cereal Choices

Today was my first day of school... first day of my "Masters of Curriculum and Instruction" program, that is.

The decision to enter into this particular program of study was pressured. I felt pressured to start taking some credits to renew my teaching license. And why not apply those credits towards a Masters? When I started looking into available masters programs out there, I was disappointed. Very few masters programs are related to special education (the Masters of Special Education is for teachers who have no background in special ed; i.e: not me). After much conversation with colleagues and with the hubby, I decided that the Masters of C & I would be the best option for me, out of all the pitiful options there were. I also chose to apply my courses towards a degree knowing that we probably won't stay where we are for more than one year (meaning I'd have to drop out of the program and hope I could transfer my credits).

So it was with mixed enthusiasm that I went to class today. Early on in the two hour class, our professor said: "This is the most important thing: Begin with the end in mind". This was the point at which, if I was being honest with myself, I would have run out of the room, crawled into a hole somewhere, and rocked myself while humming as loudly as possible to block out the one question that has been on my mind lately: WHAT DO I WANT TO DO WHEN I GROW UP???

The problem is that I have always been goal-driven. In high school, I knew I wanted to teach children who were deaf/hard-of-hearing, go to a Christian college, and be finished in five years. So I found the only college in the U.S that met all of my criteria, and then I showed up. No matter that I had never set foot in the state of Michigan before. No matter that nobody I knew from high school chose the same college. No matter that they closed the program when I was halfway through it. No matter that it cost a small fortune to go there. None of this stopped me. Two other important goals in the past three years were to find a teaching job.... and I did. And I don't mean to say that I did this all on my own, because the Lord himself knows I didn't. The point being, I've always worked toward a goal.

So what is a goal-less girl to do? Without any strong sense of direction, I'm just like a sailboat drifting aimlessly in the ocean. A flight with no destination. An architect with no vision. A poet at a fork in the road. It's an uncomfortable place to be; and I'm only just beginning to empathize with what Max went through (and is still going through!).

Begin with the end in mind. What is my end? Do I want to be a classroom teacher forever? If so, do I want to stay a resource room teacher? A deaf/hard-of-hearing teacher? A regular teacher? Do I want to become a teacher consultant? A reading remediation specialist? An administrator? A special education administrator? Do I want to teach at the college level? If so, in which area of concentration?

I seem to be looking down an impossibly long cereal aisle. If someone could just put what I need in my cart, that would be great. Thanks.

The Waiting Game

I'm still playing the waiting game. Never mind that I'm not looking for a job, not looking for someone to call me about an interview, not waiting to hear if I've gotten the job. I'm waiting on the other side of things.

We need to hire a new Resource Room teacher for the fall. Last week, I sat in on the second round of interviews (My principal said she would sift through the 100+ applications before she called me in. Apparently her criteria was "local" and "just out of college"). Both of the candidates seemed to be very nice girls. By the end of both interviews, I felt like they would both do a good job. Then I started thinking that one would do better than the other... and the assistant principal agreed with me. She was going to check in with the principal at the end of last week and call our top choice this week. As far as I can tell, that has not happened yet.

And I'm starting to get antsy about it; after all, I'll be working very closely with whoever they hire, so I have a particular interest in seeing the right person get hired. I've snooped around and found the MySpace profile of our top choice. She had the good sense to make her profile private, but I do notice from her updates that she's been interviewing at quite a few other schools.

I wish the powers that be would get hopping on this one!!

O Canada

Well, we're back from a whirlwind trip to Montreal! We spent one evening and one full day there. Max and I decided that the most cost-efficient way to see the city was by foot... So we walked for ten and a half hours on Friday. We maybe could have gotten away with just seven hours of walking, but we got lost twice. Here are some of the highlights of our trip:


Eating crepes. This one is made with ham, cheese, and egg. Yum!










Here we are at the top of Mount Royal, overlooking the city.
Gorgeous views! It was worth the hike and the 250 stairs!







We walked through many streets like this one. Sometimes I had to remind myself that I was still in North America!









Here I am enjoying a giant plate of "Moules frites" which is French for "mussels and fries". Kudos to Montreal for serving my fries with mayonnaise instead of ketchup (they're more French than I gave them credit for!). This picture was taken after eight hours of walking. We were sunburned and sore and oh so hungry. We walked another two hours after dinner, trying to find Old Town to buy a magnet. Both of my legs broke from all the walking, but at least we got our magnet! Proof that we were there!

Back... and Gone Again

My long weekend with my long-time friend who I hadn't seen in a LONG time was fabulous! On Saturday, we spontaneously attended the 16th annual barbecue battle in downtown Washington D.C. We stood in line for two hours to get to the free samples. There were about two hundred feet of tables set up and we were both quite full (and sunburned) by the end of it. Here I am posing with the Oscar Meyer Wiener-Mobile. I resisted the urge to sing the song.


On Sunday we went to the International Spy Museum (which was well worth the entrance fee). The spy museum was actually the best museum I've ever been to... and I've been to quite a few. I would highly recommend it to anyone who's visiting the area. We got to climb through vents in the wall, identify people in disguise, and see lots of vintage espionage equipment used throughout history. Did you know that the NSA shreds 40,000 pounds of paper a day... and that the shredded documents are then recycled into pizza boxes? True story.

We walked a lot around the city, and went to a great Mexican restaurant to celebrate her birthday. It was a such a fun weekend that we both vowed to reunite annually instead of letting another four years go by!

Tomorrow, the husband and I are off on a spontaneous trip to Montreal. I will finally get to find out if they speak REAL French there!

Fly

Yesterday, Max and I were entertained for a long time watching our cat Mowgli hunt a fly. Usually, I hate flies in the house during the summer, but the cats seem to think that flies are candy, and behave as such when they see one. Mowgli reminded me of a boxing prairie dog the way she was up on her hind legs and swinging in the air with her front paws. If only I'd had the camera nearby! Even more amusing is when she would take a running leap into the air (paws swinging wildly) in an effort to trap the unsuspecting fly. At one point, she even climbed to the top of the treadmill for a height advantage. But in the end, it was our patient hunter Gizmo who finally ate the tasty treat. She calmly waited until the fly came to her, then trapped it between her paw and the floor. Our cats are way better than fly swatters!

In other news, I fly to Washington D.C area today to visit a good friend of mine I haven't seen in three years! I'll update when I get back next week!

At Least I Didn't Cry This Time

For months now, I've wanted to do something different with my hair. Drastic. But not too drastic, because, you know, deep down I'm a wuss. I've never quite been able to forget those many, many times I would come back from the hair dresser in AGONIZING TEARS because there is nothing so traumatic as feeling ugly when you're 16.

So I'm sitting in the salon, telling Sophie that I want something "new, fun, fresh, light, different". She starts flipping through a magazine and says "how about this cut?" Well, the model looked great of course, so I said Sure! and out came the scissors and off went my glasses.

Now, mind you, I'm blind when I don't wear my glasses--and you can't wear glasses when you're getting a haircut. So she's cutting, and I'm squinting through a curtain of bangs at the blurry new vision of me in the mirror. Everything looks fine as far as I can tell. It's short, but not too short... and I can tell my bangs will look different.

Then Sophie applies roughly a bucket of mousse to my hair and starts in with the blow dryer. After about fifteen minutes, she swivels me around to face the mirror and says "Ta da!" (Okay, she didn't really say that, but she may as well have). I smile because all I can see is what looks to be like an impressionistic painting of me. I reach for my glasses, and ...

Uh-oh. Can anyone say 1995? I am just too young to have BIG HAIR. I pouted all the way back to the car, amidst scoffing stares of passers-by (how do you know they weren't scoffing or staring? You weren't there...). I walked in the house and warned Max that it was disastrous. He managed to make me feel a little better about it. Between his tact and my hairbrush, I was able to tame my new giant 90's hairdo into something hopefully a bit more presentable:


You will all just have to take my word on how bad it was before I got home!!

Final Bell

Today was the last day of school.

I know, I know... you're all thinking: "But Sarah, you've been so calm! Where was the countdown? When was the freaking out? I didn't hear you whine about how the kids are driving you crazy!"

Well as it turns out, the end-of-the-year for a resource room teacher is A LOT more laid back than for a classroom teacher. The difference? The kids. Much as I love them, students make you loopy in June. But as a resource room teacher, I just conveniently left them in their classrooms so that they could enjoy their end of the year activities, and I could tackle a mountain load of paperwork. This week went by calmly, efficiently, quietly. Even quickly!

And now begins the time I like to call: "Doing Whatever I Want Whenever I Want To". Hurray!!

For She's a Jolly Good Fellow

Today the entire special education staff went to a Mexican restaurant to celebrate the successful end of my colleague's first year of teaching. It doubled as a goodbye party too because she is moving on to greener pastures next year in a school closer to home. I'm not sure what it is about Mexican restaurants that appeal to teacher parties (this is the third consecutive year I've had an end-of-the-year party at Mexican restaurant!). Maybe it's because the environment is stereotypically loud and colorful.... just makes us teachers feel right at home!

Anyways, we sent off my dear friend with cards, tributes, and gifts for her new classroom: disinfecting wipes, baby wipes, air sanitizer, band-aids, DVD's, and a trophy (which she worked HARD to earn, let me tell you). She loved all of it, of course, but I think what she would rather have liked to do is to take our entire special ed staff and bring us with her to her new job...

J, you will be missed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Master List or Master of Lists

Despite my protesting body, I did drag myself to work today. I had two good reasons to do so:

1) I have work to do before the end of the school year (Friday)
2) If I had to stay cooped up in this house for one more day, I would have gone insane!! No, really.

And it's amazing what can get done when I don't see any kids! I crossed some major items off of my to-do list. It was a such a deeply satisfying feeling to check things off that list. I briefly considered making up another list full of things I've accomplished, just so I could cross off more items. But that would make me out to be crazy. And I'm not crazy... Crazy is when you write a list of all your lists so you can keep track of them all.

Yes, I'm talking about you Rebekah!

For Real

see more dog pictures

Cause for Alarm

... and there were many today.

Cause #1: My principal comes to my office and says: "I'm just going to cut to the chase" (uh-oh) "I really value honesty" (UH-OH) "Did you put an anonymous, angry letter in my box about two weeks ago?" [WHEW! No way, that was not me at all]. Interesting discussion ensued.

Cause #2: Huge IEP (yearly meeting to determine individual goals and accommodations) scheduled for 1:00 today. It happened to be the transition IEP of this little fellow. Transition IEP's are run by the special ed. team from whatever district/school the child is coming to us from. Anyways, this one is a big deal. I got a phone call at 8:45 AM informing me that the IEP team members were at the front office, waiting for me to start the meeting. Apparently, when the other IEP team rescheduled the meeting from 1:00 to 9:00, they neglected to tell us!!

When I realize this, I am talking myself down from panic. Breathe in, breathe out. Nobody knows you're freaking out, so just pretend that you're not! Then I had to go conjure up two substitutes on the fly (so the classroom teacher and aide could attend the meeting) and pull our principal out of an awards assembly.

It all ended up working out okay; my heart stopped racing halfway into the meeting.

Cause #3: Ordered takeout from Panera Bread today. About halfway through my yummy salad, just as I am lifting the fork to my mouth, I notice HALF A LADYBUG stuck to my lettuce!! Ewwww. It would have been so much better if I had just found a whole ladybug, because where did that other half go???

Cheetoh Tummy-ache

That's what I'm left with after a celebration today. Today was the last day that I saw kids (yep, the resource room is closing up shop so we can tackle a mountain of paperwork next week!), and there was one student in particular that deserved a party. She had come SOOO far since the beginning of the year. She was so shy and fearful at the beginning... she didn't look me in the eye for two weeks when I saw her one-on-one. She was two grade levels behind and she would just sit in her regular classroom, helpless. Today, she's a cheerful, confident student! She asks her teachers for work; she takes real pride in her accomplishments; she's just blossomed!

So since I knew that she loved "Hot Cheetohs", I decided that a Cheetoh party was in order. She wrote out invitations (on orange Cheetoh shaped paper, of course) and handed them out to all the teachers who had helped her this year. We all spent a fun time together, eating Cheetohs (three different kinds!) and playing Blink.

She has gotten so skilled and fast at Blink that I no longer need to give her less cards for the advantage. She can actually beat me when we have the same amount of cards and when I'm TRYING to win. Never thought that would happen! I'm fiercely proud of her. She alone gives me a compelling reason to come back to my job this fall!

Top Ten Ways to Procrastinate

How to successfully avoid working at work:

1. Make a list of everything you need to get done before the end of the school year
2. Tack said list to the bulletin board and admire your organizational skills
3. Make a checklist in excel to mark off each progress report finished (Note: start writing progress reports later)
4. Take a ninety minute “business” lunch
5. Print off travel itinerary for the summer
6. Shuffle papers into a neater pile
7. Call Mom and Dad in France
8. Stare at the summer countdown posted on the white board
9. Refill water bottle
10. Check LOLcats frequently throughout the day
    

more cat pictures

The "Reading Lady" Strikes Again

I was asked to be a part of "Civil War Day" today. All second graders and eighth graders (plus a small army of volunteers) drove about thirty minutes to an outdoor camp by a lake to learn about the Civil War. They had a bunch of different stations: a cooking station, a first aid station, a weapons station, etc. Groups of fifteen kids rotated between stations every half an hour. A couple of Civil War Re-enactors feven ired off their muskets in a demonstration at the end!

My station was the "Paint a flag/Storytelling" one. The kids got fifteen minutes to paint a flag, and fifteen minutes to listen to ME tell Civil War stories! I borrowed an outfit from a colleague (all the other volunteers rented costumes) and I had a lot of fun walking around in my swooshy skirt. I used to play dress-up A LOT as a kid. Mom had a big dress-up-box full of dresses, "pearl" necklaces, high heeled shoes, and gaudy clip on jewelry--it was the best. But I digress.

I had some picture books with me, but quickly discovered that the kids were bored stiff if I just read from them. So I jumped around between two books, talking in my Excited Teacher Voice (complete with Excited Facial Expressions and Grandiose Gestures). I enthralled each group with tales of brave drummer boys and courageous nurses.... FOURTEEN TIMES!! I talked for three hours straight! Whew! I think I am now prepared to teach a college class (because that's apparently the only skill they need to have to be hired...)

All in all, despite the bugs and the heat, it was a great time. I felt a little bad about our station... definitely didn't seem as exciting as all the other stations. But when it was all over, a volunteer/mom came up to me and told me that I had done a good job and that her son "liked the 'reading lady' best."

Yay for field trips!

Every Party Has a Pooper

Sniff, Sniff

Sniff, Sniff

That's what I was doing today in my office at around ten thirty. I had my three first graders working with me, and every time I got near the boy (I'll call him N), I got a whiff of .... something.

The something turned out to be poop.

I waited patiently for another thirty minutes until their time was done and I sent the two girls back to class while I had a little chat with N.

Me: "Honey, are you wearing pull-ups?"
N: "Yeah..."
Me: "Did you go to the bathroom in them just now?"
N: [putting his head on the table] "Yeah..."
Me: "Why did mom send you to school in pull-ups?" (come on, he's eight!!)
N: "I don't know"
Me: [gently] "If you had to use the bathroom, why didn't you just ask? I always let you go when you ask..."
N: "I don't know"

This is the second time he's done this in two weeks. He doesn't say anything about it. He never even seems to be uncomfortable.

I had the teacher call mom and it just kills me that mom sees no connection between this sudden behavior and the latest turmoil in the family (new baby in the house from his teenage brother, dad moving away to basic training, you get the picture).

This same student gave me a panic attack not two hours later when he went missing. I've never lost a child in my teaching career and I didn't want today to be my first. At noon, he was sitting in the office, waiting for mom to bring him a change of clothes. At 12:45 I went to go pick him up from his classroom for his second time with me. His teacher just looked at me and said: "You mean he isn't with you? When I didn't see him in the office, I assumed you had him".

When I realized that his backpack was still in the classroom, that is when my heart started fluttering. Four staff members (including myself) armed with walkie-talkies searched high and low throughout the whole school building and grounds. I looked in every bathroom stall.... Finally about twenty scary minutes later someone had the bright idea to check the sign out sheet...

Sure enough, grandma didn't have any spare clothes, so she just took him home.

Note to self: when kids disappear, check the sign-out sheet first!

Unpatriotic Traitor

Yep, that's how I'm feeling today....

Unpatriotic: We didn't go to any picnics or barbecues today for Memorial Day. Instead, we walked all over the historic section of downtown and found a "hole in the wall" Chinese place. Max said: "I'll bet that place is authentic". Sure enough, we were the only white people inside, and English was not the only language spoken. Hamburgers? Forget it! Bring on the Moo Goo Gai Pan!!

Traitor: Despite numerous protests to my colleagues assuring them that I will still be there this fall, I've started looking into other employment opportunities for next school year. They are saying that gas is going to hit five or six dollars a gallon in the fall, and the thought of the thousands of dollars wasted on my 110 mile round-trip daily commute is pretty sickening. And let's face it, this latest stint in my career has been less than satisfying for many different reasons.

I ended up applying for a Title 1 Curriculum Support Teacher at a school that is literally 1.3 miles away from home. ONE POINT THREE! I really hesitated in even searching for other jobs, because we're only planning on being here for one more year (long enough for Max to finish his masters'), but this job will only last one year! (Title 1 funding is special that way).

But, anyhow, I feel like a complete traitor for even thinking about leaving--the special education department has plenty of issues without adding another new staff member next year. So I really don't know how to feel about the whole thing. I am terrified this new school is going to call me for an interview. I am terrified that they won't.

Lots of prayer to follow....

Top Ten Signs of an Oppressive School

10) When gossip and negativity spread like wildfire.

9) When the administration tacks on extra, mandatory professional development days during the summer, and teachers can't do anything in protest because they don't have a contract.

8) When the principal's policy is to change things up simply because things are going well.

7) When mandatory, hour-long, after-school meetings are scheduled three times a week... every week.

6) When the administration makes specials teachers (gym, art, computers, spanish) give up their daily planning time in order to work as classroom aides.

5) When teacher bonuses are dependent on student test scores.

4) When "looking at test scores" drives every in-service, workshop, and staff meeting.

3) When the administration places a higher value on what the parents say rather than on what the teachers say.

2) When the school has a higher staff turn-over rate than, say, McDonald's...

1) When over half of the staff is sending out resumes for teacher openings at other schools.

Decision-making Power

With the end of the school year almost upon me comes the Placement Decisions. This is an important time in the life of a resource room teacher; I need to ask myself "In whose classroom will each of my little ones succeed next year?" I can't just flippantly assign them any ol' teacher, you see, it is an important decision that may potentially help to determine academic progress. I have to consider the strengths and weaknesses of each student AND each teacher.

It's easy to reflect on the qualities of each of my students. It gets stickier when I have to reflect on teacher qualities. It almost feels judgmental... "No, not her, she doesn't follow through", "No, she's too inconsistent, he needs someone who is firm and strict", "No, she's overly negative", "No, he can't differentiate", "No, she's not warm and sensitive enough", "No, she shouts confidential information in the hallways", "No, she can't seem to work with other professionals". I'm not sure how to go about this process without being hypercritical of each teacher on our staff!

As I go down my list, it's working out where I'm happy where they will be placed.... But I do seem to be stuck with a handful of kids to place within the same grade level in which there is not a single teacher who I feel is capable of teaching these kids well. I may have to resort to pulling names out of a hat!

Room Issues

It's quiet in my office. Sometimes, that's boring, but I like my office for that reason. It is just small enough so that the kids on our caseload that have behavior issues have to go to the other, bigger, resource room to calm down. The other resource room is also "home" to our four aides, as well as work space for many more kids at one time than I see.

Next year, that other, bigger, resource room will be mine (for reasons that aren't worth getting into right now). It's going to be louder, busier, and liberally peppered with chaos. I try not to think about it too much...

And speaking of rooms, I realized last night (as Max and I watched bits of "Wife Swap"), that it wasn't until seventh grade that I had my own bedroom. Seventh grade! And then, I had my own room for exactly two years before I went to boarding school. I got to come home to my own room during school vacations... then after 10th grade, I've shared a room with someone or other continuously till I got married. It was just a "huh?" moment... I wonder why I didn't throw a fit about it as I was growing up?

I wonder if sharing personal space with siblings and roommates over the years is contributing to my reluctance to own the busier resource room next year... better have Max psychoanalyze this.

Success! (So Far...)

Well the blogging adventure I recently wrote about has officially begun. My fourth grade student was awestruck as I introduced her to the world of blogging! She was so excited to pick her own blog title ("I can choose anything?!?" she said) and her background colors. Her first post today was entitled "About Me". She (very slowly) typed out two sentences:

I like to eat hot cheetos. I have annoying sisters.

She was thrilled. I was thrilled: I got her to write, and I got her to like it. Yay!

Tragically Entertaining

A tribute to the last day of district-wide standardized testing (thanks Mr. Pullen):

IEP Critic--This One Gets a 2 out of 5

Today I attended an IEP/MET (three year re-evaluation) for a prospective student with autism coming to us next year. I was very excited for the chance to sit in on a different school's IEP meeting. I thought it would be an informative compare/contrast exercise. Our school psychologist (who services a bunch of other schools and districts as well) has always been very complimentary about the way we run our IEP meetings; today I found out whether or not our compliments were deserved.

It is my professional opinion that they were deserved.

First of all, their psychologist started off the meeting by informing mom that her son was "very, very loooow". He did not mention any scores, nor did he explain any of the subtests, other than to say "he did better on some than on others". So, ouch. Not five minutes into it and I was already feeling like I wanted to give this mother a hug.

Secondly, in a one-hour meeting, mom did not have a chance to speak until 27 minutes into it... and that's only because she interrupted with a comment! Not once was she asked for her input on goals, or about her concerns.

Thirdly, the eight people around the table directed all their comments at me... made eye contact with me... not mom.

Finally, there was a lot of educational jargon thrown around and it was assumed that mom understood all of it. In all fairness, this is something I have been guilty of in the past, but our special ed team has been very good about trying to be as clear as possible.

To the other school's credit, they were much more on top of their paperwork. Personally, though, I would much rather drop the ball in terms of paperwork than to fail to communicate to the parent that they are an equal partner with us in their child's education.

Blogging as a Cure (?)

I am responsible for teaching/remediating writing for my fourth grade student. The only problem is... she hates writing; she can't spell; and she doesn't see the point in writing. It's like pulling teeth with her, so I've been somewhat avoiding it for the past few months.

Until this week!! It struck me that starting her very own blog could motivate her to write. Do other elementary teachers have their students blog? This fifth grade teacher does.

Would I be allowed to do this at school? According to our computer teacher, blogging is part of a Michigan technology strand!

I like the idea of linking kids' news sites and fun fact sites on the sidebar for her to read/peruse and respond to. I like that most blog sites have spell check. I like the idea that I could make her blog private. I also like the idea that her teachers could read her posts and give her encouraging comments!

The "unknown" factor is whether this experiment will work. Will this motivate her to write? Tune in next week for more exciting developments!

Blink Addiction

It all started at our half day in-service on Friday. The staff was supposed to align the objectives in our new math curriculum (coming this fall) to our state standards. Well, as you can imagine, all of us Special Ed teachers were feeling a bit left out, seeing as how it didn't pertain to us. "Oh, but it does!", we were assured. "You should be familiar with each grade level's standards and math objectives". Yes, that is a valid point. But which grade level should we choose to work with?

So Special Ed. got our own breakout session. Our team discussed housekeeping details for about twenty minutes, then got down to business: Cards. Not just any cards... Blink. Our speech therapist was explaining why this game in particular encouraged both sides of the brain to work together. It's also an excellent way to build working memory! We played for over an hour.... so simple, yet so addicting. While we were playing, we also discussed hosting a game night for parents with simple and fun games that have educational value. Goodness knows, I know the motivating value of games in my classroom!!

On Friday night I swung by Target to pick up a deck of "Blink" for myself (oh, and my students too). I've taught all of my students to play and they are having a blast with it! Some are still getting the hang of it, but my fourth-grader (who is as fiercely competitive as I am) is nuts about it! That girl was on her feet and shouting out: "SHAPE! COLOR! NUMBER! COLOR!" for the better part of 20 minutes. I wonder what people must have thought as they walked by?

I'm pretty nuts about it too. For two straight days, I've used my planning period to compete against the other resource room teacher, who is a worthy opponent! Work? What work?!

Birthday Highlights

First, I opened some presents from mom and dad. Gizmo liked the bag, but couldn't figure out why she needed to pose with it:


Mrs. Hufflepuff definitely liked the bag. She instantly claimed it as her own:


On Saturday, Max and I ate delicious food at Ichiban. Our Japanese waitress could not believe that we didn't want the forks she was offering us. "No forks??? Are you sure!?!" My grandma would be proud!



We also went to the dollar theater and split a jamocha shake, but I have no pictures for proof! All in all, a great birthday!! Thanks, everyone!!!!!

Ode to 25

Twenty-Five, you had a greasy and delicous start at The Pizza Bakery, followed by a liberal helping of change. You were there for our bittersweet move from California to Michigan. You witnessed the adoption of three adorable cats. You brought an unexpected, extended visit from my parents. You saw the dark days of unemployment. You presented me with a new brother-in-law. You allowed me to say, on countless occasions: "It's okay, because I'm only twenty-five, and I have lots of time left to do other things"... things like get a better job, live in a real house, drive a car that works...

I had high hopes for you, Twenty-Five, and you did not let me down. I realize that sometimes you get overlooked, and other years get all the glamour... like sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one, thirty (...wait...I know there are others, but I can't count that high...) oh and sixty-five. But you, Twenty-Five, have been a milestone for me in that I am one step closer to SETTLING DOWN (which is this missionary kid's ultimate goal!), without giving up the right to claim my youth for having cheap furniture and a broken car.

You will be missed in the years to come!

Love,

Twenty-Six

My Anger Changes Nothing

I'm trying to write my career goals and my reasons for pursuing a specific master's degree so that I can apply for my Masters of Arts in Curriculum and Instruction. But I can't focus. I won't be able to focus all day, I just know it. My mind is 2,200 miles away, in a different school, with different colleagues, and with different kids. I wish I could be very specific, but I can't. All I can say is some very EVIL and GREEDY and SHORTSIGHTED people are closing down the deaf/hard-of-hearing program where I used to teach, forcing dozens of kids to relocate to districts and schools who won't be able to provide the comprehensive array of services that we did. "Why would anyone do such a thing?", you may wonder.

As it turns out, the bottom line is money. What an awful truth: what drives education is money, not the best interests of our students.

On the Run

On Friday, I dismissed my little kindergartener back to his classroom once his time with me was over. I reminded him "Make sure you walk!". Then, like the responsible teacher that I am, I waited two seconds, then left my office to make sure he wasn't running.

He was.

My question is twofold:

1. Why do kids run everywhere?
2. When do kids/adults stop running everywhere?

I vaguely remember running places; usually, it was up or down stairs. I recall one instance, when I was about eight or nine, that my dad said "Stop running up the stairs". And I said "But I'm not running up the stairs". Then my dad showed me what it looked like to walk up the stairs, then made me do it. I remember thinking "Whoa, weird... I don't think I'm ever going to reach the top of the stairs at this rate!".

I distinctly remember a time in first grade when I stopped running pointlessly on the playground. I was watching some other kids running around in circles, and I thought "That looks like fun... They're going so fast and the wind is in their hair! I wanna do that too!". And I did... for about a minute or two. Then I realized "This isn't fun. This is hard work. I'm tired". Then I went and played on the swings.

And, now that I think about it, playing on the swings is a much more effective way to have fun and feel the wind in your hair without tiring yourself out. So while I may not be athletic, I am efficient!

BUT, It's The Law!

You'll remember that, in my last post, I talked about a prospective Kindergartener to our school this next year. He is on the Autism spectrum and definitely has some special abilities. His worst behavior is that sometimes he refuses to do things and he needs to be redirected.

Even though the parents have decided that our school is their number one choice, our principal is very concerned that our school isn't the right placement for him. This is 99% a personal issue, and 1% an administrative concern. He would need a full time aide, and a differentiated/personal curriculum. The other resource room teacher and I have told our principal a number of times that we would take care of the academic piece (a simple matter, really), and the district will be paying for a one-on-one aide.

So what's the problem? We're really not sure why our principal continues to fish for reasons why this student shouldn't come here. It's "but" this and "but" that at every turn. This has been going on for weeks, and I'm exasperated.

Truthfully, if the parents decide to take him somewhere else, that's okay with me. But right now, the parents want him at our school and we CAN provide the services he needs. I'm fighting for him for that reason. I will admit, however, that at this point, I also want him here simply because our principal doesn't.

Does that mean I have Oppositional Defiant Disorder?

April is Autism Awareness Month

This week, I went off-site and observed a five year old who can read (and comprehend) at the fourth grade level, and who can do complicated algebra. He might be on my caseload next year! I could teach him about appropriate social interactions and how to communicate functionally, and he could teach me how to balance my checkbook!

We All SCREAM for Ice Cream

After school, I went out with some friends from work to a local ice cream parlor where you could get two scoops of ice cream and a topping in a waffle cone for only $2.39. (It tasted like heaven!)

We were all sitting at a table outside, chatting away, when we were interrupted by a mom and her screaming kid who I thought looked about five. They were leaving the ice cream parlor, but the little boy was screaming and crying and throwing a full-on tantrum on the ground while his mother held his ice cream cone. He was shouting "I WANT IT IN A CUP!! A CUP! I WANT A CUP!!! WAAAAHHH!!!!" He was so intense that one of my friends had to move his chair so the kid didn't knock his head. The poor mother was clearly embarrassed. I knew this because, at one point, she told her son "You are embarrassing." For about three minutes, the boy screamed and the mom said "Get up, let's go!", until the mom eventually passed the cone to dad, picked up the screaming and kicking child, and put him in the car.

When they had left, all five of us started laughing and cheering at the same time. We were laughing because some of us teachers deal with "behaviors" all day in the classroom and it's nice (and funny!) when it's not our problem to deal with! We were cheering because, and this is crucial, the mom did not reinforce his tantrum by going back into the store for a cup. It seems like a lot of parents these days would have done exactly that.

We indulged in some "If it were me" conversation at this point, which was actually quite ridiculous because none of us around the table were parents (and I'm sure we might all change our minds when we're the burnt out moms and its OUR kid), and we came up with several scenarios.

1. Let the kid have a tantrum, but start taking off your belt...
2. Let the kid have a tantrum, and give him an empty cup
3. Let the kid have a tantrum, and throw his ice cream cone away
4. Let the kid have a tantrum while you calmly eat and finish his ice cream cone

You have one guess as to which scenario was my suggestion!

Or Maybe It's Magic

So I was at a small meeting on Friday with some third and fourth grade teachers. One of the teachers was talking about her current student teacher working in her classroom. She told us she was thankful she "got a good one this year" because the last two she had were just hopeless. It got me to thinking and I asked her (and the others around the table): "Do you think that good teaching is a talent you are born with (you either have a knack or you don't)? Or do you think that good teaching can be learned?" The consensus around the table was that you either had what it took or you didn't, that it couldn't really be learned.

I would tend to agree with this, but the jury is still out. Any thoughts?

Time Marches Onward

Dear Spring Break,

What happened?!? One minute, I was shouting "FREEDOM!" as I pulled away from the school's parking lot, and the next minute I am sobbing in despair as I set my alarm clock for 5:30.

You enticed me with promises of late night TV, sleeping in, not wearing a watch, and endless time to spend however I wished. And as soon as I got one brief, delicious taste, you were gone! WHAT KIND OF A TEASE ARE YOU?

Where did you go? We had some great times together, but now you have moved on to visit other teachers in different school districts. I am a jealous friend. Very, very jealous...

Spring Break, I miss you so, so, so much. I don't know how I can keep on living without you... all that's left are the memories now. Please send your sister, Summer Break, soon.
SOON!!!!

Love,
Sarah

Thrifty Education

Being raised frugally, and loving a bargain, I love to shop at thrift stores. There are two main chains of thrift stores: Salvation Army, and Goodwill. Goodwill stores are clearly superior in my expert opinion. This is because clothes are organized by general type and by size. So when I go to Goodwill, I don't have to wade through hundreds of shirts to find a size small. I just go to the size small section, you see. At Salvation Army, clothes are organized by general type and by color. This makes no sense to me. It results in wasted time and disappointment ("OHMYGOSH What a cute ... Oh... it's a large... shoot"). However, if you are specifically looking for, say, a green button down shirt, Salvation Army is the way to go.

Unfortunately, I do not have a choice in where to go. We only have one real thrift store in a 20 mile radius, and it happens to be a Salvation Army. (This is a sharp contrast to when we lived on the west side of the state with all of the Dutch People. There were more thrift stores there than I could count on two hands within a ten mile radius. Why, you ask? Well, I suppose I don't want to perpetuate stereotypes about cheap Dutch People, so I'll leave that question unanswered.)

So that is where I went today. In the middle of the day. Because I wasn't at work. Because it's Spring Break. I made a few observations while I was browsing that I thought I would share with you (because I would bore you if I just talked about sleeping, playing on the computer, and reading my book).

• Don't try to buy something that is missing a price tag. They are very strict about that rule and apparently don't change their mind even in the face of a temper tantrum, whining, pleading, or flattery.
• Head for the clothes on the racks in the middle of the walking aisles. Those are the items they've brought in fresh from the back. Since it hasn't been picked over yet, your chances of finding a treasure are much higher.
• Don't ever buy underwear at a thrift store. That is just a given, people.
• I am not an XSmall. Why do I keep taking XSmall shirts to try on? My self-image clearly hasn't caught up with reality.
• Keep your eye on the fitting room door at all times. I found out today you can't trust those locks. I wouldn't want you all to experience the same embarrassing situation I did today!
• Stay away from the brand "Sag Harbor" for women. The clothes might look decent, but you'll feel less-than-confident knowing you're wearing a brand that might as well be labeled "Fatty McFatso at the Beach"
• Finally, a thrift store is a good place to try bargaining/bartering, especially if the item is missing a button or has a small tear or some other imperfection. But you won't get an extra discount if you point out that the item is used.
  

So hopefully you are now fully prepared to go thrift store shopping. Happy bargain hunting, everyone!

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

On Friday, I asked my principal what she would be doing for her week off. She said she was going to paint the bedroom so that she "could feel like she got something accomplished". A second later, a colleague walked by and in passing asked ME what I would be doing over break. I said "I'll be lucky if I get out of my pajamas!".

When I turned back towards the principal, she had a funny look on her face...

At first, I was afraid she would think that I was lazy with a capital L. But, now (sitting at the computer in my pajamas), it's no longer a pressing concern. After all, it's not my fault that some people are workaholics!

Can You Feel My Joy?!?

Never Trust a First Grader

For Christmas, my mentor (Ms. A) gave me a nice box of Ghiradelli's chocolate. Not realizing that we were exchanging gifts, and knowing it was the last day of school before break, I decided to give her a coupon in return. It was a coupon for Forty Free Minutes; I would do an activity with her first grade class for 40 minutes while she got some work done or drank coffee in the lounge, or whatever. It turned out to be the perfect present: she loved it, and it cost me nothing...

Yesterday, she finally cashed in on her gift. I read the book "If..." by Sarah Perry to her 20-some first graders. It was a lesson in visualizing, or mental imagery. Every page has a different "If" statement like: "If toes were teeth..." or "If frogs ate rainbows...". I would read a page, have them close their eyes and visualize it, then reveal the author's illustration. The kids were SO into it. When I finished reading the book, I explained that we were going to make our very own class book: each student would get a page and come up with their own "If" statement, then illustrate it.

Before I let the kids get back to their seats, I wanted them to understand that they wouldn't be writing in complete sentences. I told them they would end their statement with a-- I pointed to the text-- a "dot, dot, dot", I said.

It was at this point in my lesson that ALL 20-SOME first graders shouted "ellipsis!" "it's an ellipsis!"

"Ellips-ees?" I asked.

"EllipSIS" they said, obviously delighting in my complete ignorance.

There was no turning back at this point. So I played it up and told them I'd never met such a smart class of first graders before and "Oh boy, we'd better not let Ms. A know about this; how embarrassing!"

The giggles died down, the kids completed their assignments, and I went back to my office.

An hour later, Ms. A pokes her head in my office: "So I heard you learned a new word today, huh?" We had a good laugh about it, then she told me that her kids took great joy in reporting that I actually called it a "dot dot dot"!

Traitors...

Until Spring Break!!!

• Three more crack-of-dawn mornings
• Three hundred more miles
• Three more sack lunches
  
• Thirty more dollars of gas
• Two more meetings
• Twenty-one more kids
• Countless more prayers to make it through...
  

Word to the Wise

Teachers everywhere, some tips for you:

Here are some Do's and Don'ts of meeting with parents (whether it's a P-T conference or an IEP or whatever):

Do:

• Start with the positive
• Listen reflectively
• Make them feel valued and empowered
• Share ways they can help at home
• Speak tactfully
• Back up what you say with documented evidence
  

Don't:

• Be late
• Go on the offensive
• Take ANYTHING personally (except maybe a compliment)
• Be blunt
• Raise your voice for any reason
• Antagonize

NEVER:
Start out by telling the mother: "Mama Bear, you're not going to like what I have to say". (Yes, this really happened!)

Busted

Last week, one of "my" first graders got in trouble in gym class for disruptive behavior. A note was sent home for mom/dad to sign. When he handed it back to the coach yesterday, coach pulled him aside and told him how proud he was of him, and told him how responsible he was to bring it back. My little student just nodded proudly. When coach looked down at the paper, a perfectly printed MOM was written on the signature line!

Busted.

Perhaps a taste of things to come? Let's hope not!

Sick Days

Ever since I can remember, it's been very difficult for me to take sick days. I remember several times in high school, my dad would urge me to stay home and rest; usually I was too determined to give in. Sometimes it was that I thought I was going to miss out on something really fun at school if I stayed home. Sometimes I was sure that I would fail my next test if I didn't show up for class (can't really trust other note-takers, you know?). In college, taking a day off was unthinkable: most classes only met 1-3 times a week!

And now that I'm teaching, not much has changed. When I lived in California, I didn't like to stay home when I was sick because I had to make sub plans. And that was so much trouble. But then again, I didn't get all that sick in California. I'm sure it has something to do with all that sunshine and fresh air year round.

At my school here in Michigan, the policy is "crawl in, don't call in". In fact, we are officially given 0 sick days (they still pay us when we have to stay home due to sickness, but they don't give us a specified number of days so that we don't abuse it). So I have a lot of guilt when I stay home sick. And at my current job, I don't even need to make sub plans for when I'm gone because I'm not a classroom teacher!

But still I feel compelled to be at school when I am sick. The last time I was sick, I got up anyway and tried to get to work, only to turn around 10 miles into my commute when I realized I wasn't going to make it. And just this past Wednesday, I went in to work when I clearly shouldn't have. It was my colleagues in the special ed. department who urged me to go home. That was hard, because I felt that everyone else was judging me a wuss. On Wednesday, it was purely an upper respiratory issue that was making me feel miserable. But I threw up on Thursday. I kind of wanted to send out a mass e-mail to everyone to show that I was justified in staying home (but then decided against it). I've got to stop caring what other people think and just take care of myself, so that is why I'm taking today off too, to recuperate!!

Phew!

This week has been a whirlwind of hectic busy-ness. I'm SO glad it's over. I had four METs (3 year reviews), four IEP's, four evaluations of our aides to give, and I took on two brand new kids onto my daily caseload. My office looks like it's been hit by a hurricane... I try not to notice! Because if I don't look, it's not there, right?
I have no energy to say anything else..............