This past Monday was President's Day. It was supposed to be a much-needed extension to what had been a busy weekend. Content and Professional Teaching tests took up 75% of my Saturday, and Sunday was Valentine's Day. Needless to say, I accomplished little on either of those two days. Nevertheless, with Monday off, I was feeling confident that I would get ahead in my lesson plans and go into the shortened week with a nice cushion. I could not have been more incorrect.
Monday was quite possibly the worst day I've had as a student teacher. I was unable to focus on my lesson plans. Every single one of them, I felt, needed to be a home run. I needed to catch the attention of the students each day, every period. I needed to show them how interesting and applicable and fun math is. I needed to leave them without anything about which to criticize me. I wanted to do all of those things, and I panicked.
I felt the urge to break down at so many different points that day. I was scheduled to pick up my fifth and final class during the week to come, and the added burden of a geometry class broke my spirit. How was I ever supposed to write three different lesson plans per day for the next four weeks? How was I supposed to do any of this when I could neither think of awesome hooks and fun activities nor find any suitable ones on the Internet? I finished the day having accomplished little and headed to bed that night feeling broken. I prayed for help because I knew I needed it.
That day was so dark, but I found hope in the encouragement of friends and family. My fellow student teachers knew what I was going through, and my family encouraged me to keep going. One of my cousins, a former high school math teacher, offered me good advice. Among other things, she told me 1) to try to make one lesson a week memorable, 2) you don't have to grade everything, and 3) take a break for yourself every once in a while. I had been (and to some extent still am) making myself crazy trying to be a hero. Every teacher should strive to be the best they can be and to reach their students in new and exciting ways, but I don't think anyone can survive teaching for long if they spend all their time trying to make each lesson fun. Some math is probably better taught traditionally. Some homework should just be done for practice. Some time should be set aside to rest.
I still feel somewhat unprepared for this week. I had a weekend retreat with my campus ministry for most of the weekend, and now I'm needing to focus all of my attention on writing some lesson plans for the upcoming week. I'm a little stressed out, but I know everything will turn out okay. The world won't end if the students aren't thrilled with learning how to multiply polynomials. I'll try my best to make class enjoyable, but it's most important for everyone to learn the material. I don't want to burn out from teaching before I even get a job. I'd rather stay sane, for at least the time being.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Staying Afloat
"Has three weeks gone by this quickly?"
"Has it only been three weeks?"
It might seem paradoxical for me to be thinking both of those thoughts at the same time, but I find myself in a place where time is going by very fast and very slow. I like what I'm doing, so it goes by quickly, but it takes SO much energy. Teaching is tough. I was not expecting to have to juggle so many things at the same time. It seems like the book is never closed on anything. I'm the type of person who likes to make checklists in my head and check items off of the list as they come and go. Having a checklist with a thousand little items (grade that one late assignment, print out the lessons for tomorrow, take attendance, meet So-and-So at the door to talk over what happened yesterday, etc.) is maddening on occasion. I have chosen a profession that might make you go crazy, but I haven't let it. Not yet, at least!
This past week could have been a lot more overwhelming if it hadn't been for the two snow days in the middle. I found that I got quite a bit of work done during those hours where I would have been teaching or en route to Danville. I managed to get ahead in lesson planning, but I will fall behind yet again if I don't make the most of tomorrow's day off. (Yea, Presidents!) My cousin, who taught high school math for a while, has told me that you don't have to make every lesson a home run. If you try to make every one fantastic and memorable for its presentation, you'll find yourself getting burned out. Content can be taught well without being flashy. I definitely want to teach lessons that impress my students and let them have a good time, but some of the time, a traditional lesson is needed.
I'm also having difficulty getting into a routine. Since the classroom isn't entirely mine and won't be until I'm a full-fledged (ie. paid) teacher, I can't completely transform things. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I would change, and that's part of the reason we all student teach. I think I might try next week to grade homework for completion and then give a homework quiz on Friday based on the assignments. Students will then have the whole week to complete assignments, and if they gave them their best shot then they should do well on the quiz. Trying out things like that is what this experience is about. If it works, awesome; if not, then I won't do that next year.
There are times when it feels like I'm sinking because of all there is to do and all that goes on, but there are many positives, and it's not the end of the world if I mess up. Even little things like having a student say she really understood something after I explained it one-on-one to her can push me back up to the surface. Sometimes the victories are bigger, like when I had the entire eighth hour class' attention for probably 30 minutes during a lesson. Managing their behavior is the toughest part, and to do that for a while feels pretty good, but each day is a chance to improve on the last. Maybe I'll have their attention for 31 minutes on Tuesday. I'll keep working and learning and staying afloat. Maybe after a while, it won't feel like the waters are so rough.
"Has it only been three weeks?"
It might seem paradoxical for me to be thinking both of those thoughts at the same time, but I find myself in a place where time is going by very fast and very slow. I like what I'm doing, so it goes by quickly, but it takes SO much energy. Teaching is tough. I was not expecting to have to juggle so many things at the same time. It seems like the book is never closed on anything. I'm the type of person who likes to make checklists in my head and check items off of the list as they come and go. Having a checklist with a thousand little items (grade that one late assignment, print out the lessons for tomorrow, take attendance, meet So-and-So at the door to talk over what happened yesterday, etc.) is maddening on occasion. I have chosen a profession that might make you go crazy, but I haven't let it. Not yet, at least!
This past week could have been a lot more overwhelming if it hadn't been for the two snow days in the middle. I found that I got quite a bit of work done during those hours where I would have been teaching or en route to Danville. I managed to get ahead in lesson planning, but I will fall behind yet again if I don't make the most of tomorrow's day off. (Yea, Presidents!) My cousin, who taught high school math for a while, has told me that you don't have to make every lesson a home run. If you try to make every one fantastic and memorable for its presentation, you'll find yourself getting burned out. Content can be taught well without being flashy. I definitely want to teach lessons that impress my students and let them have a good time, but some of the time, a traditional lesson is needed.
I'm also having difficulty getting into a routine. Since the classroom isn't entirely mine and won't be until I'm a full-fledged (ie. paid) teacher, I can't completely transform things. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I would change, and that's part of the reason we all student teach. I think I might try next week to grade homework for completion and then give a homework quiz on Friday based on the assignments. Students will then have the whole week to complete assignments, and if they gave them their best shot then they should do well on the quiz. Trying out things like that is what this experience is about. If it works, awesome; if not, then I won't do that next year.
There are times when it feels like I'm sinking because of all there is to do and all that goes on, but there are many positives, and it's not the end of the world if I mess up. Even little things like having a student say she really understood something after I explained it one-on-one to her can push me back up to the surface. Sometimes the victories are bigger, like when I had the entire eighth hour class' attention for probably 30 minutes during a lesson. Managing their behavior is the toughest part, and to do that for a while feels pretty good, but each day is a chance to improve on the last. Maybe I'll have their attention for 31 minutes on Tuesday. I'll keep working and learning and staying afloat. Maybe after a while, it won't feel like the waters are so rough.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The Honeymoon is Over
The title for this post might not be very appropriate since I'm not sure I ever really had a honeymoon at DHS. Maybe that first day when all the students treated me like some exotic creature about which they had to learn was it. Nevertheless, the honeymoon is most definitely over now. The students don't feel the pressure to be extra good anymore. They're not trying to impress me, if they ever were. I'm still respected, by most I think, but I have to show them that I'm a teacher, too, and that they should give me their respect. I'm finding that for the first time in my life, I'm needing to be okay with people not liking me. I've always wanted to keep everyone at least neutral toward me, but that just doesn't make sense, especially in the classroom. I'm not there to be friends with my students, even though I'm less than 4 years older than some of them. I'm there to help them educate themselves.
My first real confrontation with a student occurred this past Tuesday. As everyone else worked on a review sheet that would help them study for their Thursday test, this student decided that he would rather talk away from his desk. I jumped into "Love and Logic" mode, which is the only form of classroom management I know. To give you an idea of what L&L is about, just think about all the choices that students have taken away from them. They can't write in pen, they can't go to the bathroom without permission, they can't choose where to sit, they can't can't can't. L&L is about having students take ownership of their problems and education. The teacher acts, as I believe the teacher should act most of the time, as a guide. Students make the decisions, and when that happens, I think they learn more.
Anyway, I gave the student in question the option of going back to his desk to work or bringing his paper to where he was now and working. The key to L&L is giving choices that you are comfortable giving. In other words, I wasn't going to offer him the choice of going back to his desk to talk. He made the choice that he didn't want to do either of those things. "Oh no!" I thought. "Now I have to offer him something else." I wasn't really prepared for him to resist my authority. (I have no idea why not!) I then thought off the cuff and gave him the option of going back to his seat to work or moving to a corner of the room and sitting there quietly. To this he responded "I'm not going in no corner. I'm not some first grader." Now, he was clearly being, in Danville's terms, "insubordinate," and I couldn't let that happen, especially with other students now looking at what was happening. I gave him this final choice, saying that I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this: he could either, once again, go back to his seat and work, or I would have to get a higher authority involved. At this point, he chose to go to the office. The whole interchange probably took place in the time of 2 or 3 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity to me. I had never had to correct a student in that way. I wasn't happy that he had chosen to go to the office, but I was happy that it had been his choice. I hadn't gone over and immediately said "Go to the office!" He chose.
My cooperating teacher went to the office and caught up with him just before he entered. She told him that she was going to have to give him a "referral" if he walked through the office door, or he could go back and work. I hadn't made any unreasonable request, she told him. He knew he had messed up, and he came back to the classroom and began working, the result I had really wanted.
It all could have ended like that, but I thought follow up was necessary. I met the same student at the door the next day and said "Yesterday didn't go so well for me. How did it go for you?" He told me that he had already been having a bad day and that's why he acted the way he did. Today would be different. I then replied that "Every day is a new day. Let's do better today." I think the whole situation worked out pretty well. I'm going to be put in more situations like that in the coming weeks, but I've handled this one, so I have more confidence facing others that arise.
It actually wasn't long before I had another student do something similar. It didn't work out quite the same way because this second student has a history of skipping class and getting into trouble. It came to the point where I needed to write him a referral, but I then told him I was going to teach him about mercy. He didn't show up the next day anyway. I don't know how the rest of our time together will play out. I hope he learns something. That's really what I want for everyone in this situation: to learn something. I've already learned quite a bit, and it's only been two weeks. If my students can learn at least that much, I know I'll have taught them well.
My first real confrontation with a student occurred this past Tuesday. As everyone else worked on a review sheet that would help them study for their Thursday test, this student decided that he would rather talk away from his desk. I jumped into "Love and Logic" mode, which is the only form of classroom management I know. To give you an idea of what L&L is about, just think about all the choices that students have taken away from them. They can't write in pen, they can't go to the bathroom without permission, they can't choose where to sit, they can't can't can't. L&L is about having students take ownership of their problems and education. The teacher acts, as I believe the teacher should act most of the time, as a guide. Students make the decisions, and when that happens, I think they learn more.
Anyway, I gave the student in question the option of going back to his desk to work or bringing his paper to where he was now and working. The key to L&L is giving choices that you are comfortable giving. In other words, I wasn't going to offer him the choice of going back to his desk to talk. He made the choice that he didn't want to do either of those things. "Oh no!" I thought. "Now I have to offer him something else." I wasn't really prepared for him to resist my authority. (I have no idea why not!) I then thought off the cuff and gave him the option of going back to his seat to work or moving to a corner of the room and sitting there quietly. To this he responded "I'm not going in no corner. I'm not some first grader." Now, he was clearly being, in Danville's terms, "insubordinate," and I couldn't let that happen, especially with other students now looking at what was happening. I gave him this final choice, saying that I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this: he could either, once again, go back to his seat and work, or I would have to get a higher authority involved. At this point, he chose to go to the office. The whole interchange probably took place in the time of 2 or 3 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity to me. I had never had to correct a student in that way. I wasn't happy that he had chosen to go to the office, but I was happy that it had been his choice. I hadn't gone over and immediately said "Go to the office!" He chose.
My cooperating teacher went to the office and caught up with him just before he entered. She told him that she was going to have to give him a "referral" if he walked through the office door, or he could go back and work. I hadn't made any unreasonable request, she told him. He knew he had messed up, and he came back to the classroom and began working, the result I had really wanted.
It all could have ended like that, but I thought follow up was necessary. I met the same student at the door the next day and said "Yesterday didn't go so well for me. How did it go for you?" He told me that he had already been having a bad day and that's why he acted the way he did. Today would be different. I then replied that "Every day is a new day. Let's do better today." I think the whole situation worked out pretty well. I'm going to be put in more situations like that in the coming weeks, but I've handled this one, so I have more confidence facing others that arise.
It actually wasn't long before I had another student do something similar. It didn't work out quite the same way because this second student has a history of skipping class and getting into trouble. It came to the point where I needed to write him a referral, but I then told him I was going to teach him about mercy. He didn't show up the next day anyway. I don't know how the rest of our time together will play out. I hope he learns something. That's really what I want for everyone in this situation: to learn something. I've already learned quite a bit, and it's only been two weeks. If my students can learn at least that much, I know I'll have taught them well.
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