Blah Part II

So, when we left off, I was about to start spewing complaints about my teaching and learning environment, particularly in the area of my co-workers and fellow grad students.

Off we go… presented to you in pseudo-outline form…

1) Being a Male Teacher in a Female Teacher School.
a) This is a challenge on so, so, so, so, SO many levels. As you may or may not know, I am the only male classroom teacher in my school, with the other XY representative in the school being our brand-new, baby-faced PE teacher. (A quick note about our PE teacher– he’s awesome at what he does, and the staff and students love him, myself included. Sadly, this reduces me to #2 male. I don’t know how I feel about this.) This means that most of the chatter revolves around complaining about their husbands, ex-husbands, or hottie, but lazy, (and) uncommitted boyfriends. Even if I ever had a complaint about TLEMK (Love you, baby!) I would not be able to voice it for fear of all womanhood turning their Fury-like rage upon me as a single voice.
b) Things run so hot and cold around here. From my liason to the other side (TLEMK), I’ve learned that apparently there’s a pecking order that exists with large groups of women. Zigzag, if you’re getting bored, think Aes Sedai. Cliques exist, from intermediate teachers, to specialist teachers, to young, unmarried teachers, to first grade teachers, and they ALL have an opinion about everyone else. They may not let you know it at first, but body language, and snide asides (which I’m finally, after what, a year and a half? picking up on.) exist after almost every meeting or interaction. According to my principal, staff climate is much better now than it was when she got here, but I secretly suspect that it’s just better hidden, or that she’s ignorning the powerful snide grenades that are launched behind closed doors. I realize that I have been guilty of it too, but I’m working on changing it. It’s so easy to get sucked into the negativity that you may not even realize it’s happening. And then, we when do “holiday” plays (Christmas, through and through) everyone is one big, fake-happy family. One day everyone is friendly, the next I could actually be a part of the wall. Truthfully, I’m sick of it. Or maybe it reminds me of other parts of my life too much.

2) On Being the Only Male in our Graduate School Cohort:
a) This is tricky. I’m the only guy there, and there’s only seven of us total, plus the professor. I feel like I bring a lot of it on myself because I rarely shut up. So I like to discuss things that we’re being lectured on. I like to share my knowledge. I SWEAR I AM NOT TRYING TO SHOW OFF. (I’m Fat Hermione, remember?) But. I’m sure it comes off like that. Rowdy R (fellow cohort member) and I have discussed this; we really are interested in what we’re doing, so we want to talk about it. And since it’s rare that all seven of us do our assigned reading, and I do it 90% of the time, I get to talk more than some other people in our group. Especially in our tech classes, because I love discussing technology and it’s applications into the classroom, and how it affects us in the real world. You know, what I do with my friends. It doesn’t fly well all the time in class. (So maybe this means that I need to develop some code switching in my head– school and friends are separate personalities…)

But then there are things that are out of my control, and even though they shouldn’t, really piss me off. To wit:

Last week in our group, we were finishing up an in-class assignment, and I was still working. My newest professor was talking about sharing a room (she’s a high school reading specialist) and how high school teachers never have things on their walls. And she found out she had to share the room with a *gasp* male social studies teacher. (because they would never have anything good on their walls!) She made it sound like a bad thing, and when she caught me looking at her after that comment, she quickly backtracked and said something like “I didn’t mean sharing it with a male teacher would be bad, they just tend to (stereotyical male stuff here) …” To which I responded, “Did he have any posters on his walls?” She then of course, said, “Well, yeah a few…”

Uh-huh. What makes me mad about that exchange is that if I hadn’t been sitting right there, and made a point to look over at the conversation, she would not have backtracked and tried to CYA.

b) The professor learns my name first. It can’t be helped. One of these things is not like the other, and it’s ME. And it’s noticeable when in week 7 of your 9-week course the professor calls a person’s name out to hand back an essay, and gives it to the WRONG WOMAN. Really? Seven people, can’t learn their names? Criminy. This also means that I get called on, and sniped on. Do I defend myself? Do I learn how to take a joke? (I promise I’m trying!) Or do I just rant about it into the blogonethersphere?

3) My defense mechanisms.
I make jokes. A lot. People usually laugh (seven out of ten of my jokes are funny. Eat that, Albert Pujols.) and so I feel like I’m bonding. It’s my attempt to establish myself as part of the collective. However, when combined with passionate discussions on education, it means you hear my voice a lot. Unfortunately, the more I talk, the more isolated I feel because there are teachers out there that are comfortable with what they’re doing, and don’t want to learn anything new. So, quit stirring the pot, Mr. Man.

4) I like teaching. I chose it as a profession, and there are some days when I feel as if I was called to it. There are plenty of other things I could be doing, but this one feels right. So when I speak glowingly of my students, why do I have to get looks of disdain from teachers who would rather be somewhere else? It’s not my fault that I actually see these students as a treasure, and want to talk about them, and not just a way to get another paycheck and have summers off. I’ve become better at being a professional, and not taking the students’ quirks so personally, but when I say that I want to wait to open their Christmas presents until Christmas morning, because I actually want to think about my students, I shouldn’t have to get looks of incredulity from my fellow coworkers. I love teaching. Get used to it. I’ll complain sometimes, but I’ll give out the joy of it too. If that’s not cool, fine.

*****
TLEMK tells me that I need to decide: do I want to be popular, or be interested in what I’m doing, to the degree which I need to engage and try to convince others that a shifting paradigm in educdation is NOT A BAD thing. At this point, one cannot co-exist with another. Either I keep my mouth shut, and people probably like me more for not being so freakin’ involved all the time, or I choose to voice my opinions, and feel better for trying to make people in my school/cohort be more flexible to learning. I am by NO MEANS saying that my thoughts are the right ones, or that I know the best way to educate children, but I don’t think I should be socially penalized for having a voice, (and hearing dead silence after I speak.)

I know I’m not alone in this, because I have a few teacher friends that are like me, and have had to sacrifice camaraderie for being professionals. (Rowdy? Mrs. Frank the Tank? Are you listening?) And I do have a couple people that I’ll hang out with for a happy hour, and feel like I might belong with at school. But what does it say when there is not ONE person I completely trust at my school, after a year and a half of working with them everyday during the school year? It’s not a good thing. At all.

So WTF am I supposed to do? Change who I am? Decide to grin and bear it, even though my sensitive metro-sexual inside feels slighted? Or should I just keep ranting here, and turn off my readership? I hate having to censor myself, and I don’t think I should have to, especially when it means I focusing on improving myself as a teacher. Or maybe I should just shut up and enjoy working with children… who are the Hallmark reason why I’m doing all of this. Especially when they give me hugs and tell me that they will miss me over Winter Break…

It’s not easy being green; new teacher, male, professional jealousy. (Whichever metaphor you want to use color symbolism for today.)

It’s not easy being green.

Blah Part I

Friends,

I’m about to enter into a touchy subject. It’s been 6 years in the making, and although it’s been referred to in passing, I feel it’s time to address a few things.

1) No, it is NOT easy being a male teacher.
2) No, it is NOT easy being the only male in my graduate cohort.
3) No, it is NOT my intention to talk so much at meetings, and to crack wise. It is what I call a “defence mechanism.” (I prefer the British spelling.)

Though I try to keep this blog anonymous to those of you that do not know me (hence the anonymous), you may have been able to deduce that I’m white. And because I’m a teacher in a great school district, I am middle class. So what h-e- double hockey sticks do I have to complain about?

Really, nothing, and though my stress is not at threat level orange,(that is SO 2002) a few things have been creeping up on me lately. So, I’m going to use the Interweb to get it off my chest…

First and foremost, I blame myself. I’m not the easiest person in the world to get to know. I’ll shake your hand, smile, and make chitchat with the best of them. I’ll remember your significant other’s name, and some other random thing about you that will probably surprise you that I remember, and quite possibly creep you out a little. (and makes Kenny cheer.) I don’t do this on purpose; it’s what my brain latches on to. But after the surface, it takes people a long time to understand who I am, and what I’m about. I’m still wondering. Build the wall higher and thicker with the fact that I’m a delicioius combination of paranoid and insecure. “Overactive imagination” is what they called it when I was a kid. So I always assume people think about me, when I’m not even a blip on their radar, and that the thoughts are negative. I’ve learned to deal with that a bit, but the insecurity still lingers.

So what does this all mean when you put it into context of working in an elmentary school, and participate in a grad school class of exactly SEVEN people? That answer comes tomorrow, or later today, whichever comes last.

(I’ve decided to release this in bits and pieces; otherwise Stuck gets annoyed that it’s so long)

Clean Up on Aisle Five

I know I haven't been posting much since school has started, but here's a tasty story to keep you occupied until I sort out the other stories to feed to you, my non-existent audience.

WARNING:

The following story is NOT for people who are disgusted by potty humor. So, again, you have been warned.

Yesterday, as I was attempting to teach a lesson on phonics, and making connections in your schema, one of my fine young gentlemen got up and headed for the door. Unperturbed, because students are allowed to use the restroom as necessary, I paid him no heed.

Oh, the heed I should have paid. He made it to the back table, where the linoleum starts, and then, because I wasn’t watching, all I heard was splash. You know, the throwing-out-the-last-bit-of-water-out-of-the-bucket-splash.

Of COURSE that just happened.

And then I know. We’ve got a puker. I did not panic. I said, “It’s okay, _____. Are you done? Go to the bathroom and make sure.” He got two more steps, but because he is in many ways smarter than me, took a detour for the garbage can. Not even the recycling can, which was taller, and closer, but the garbage can. Now THAT’S presence of mind, let me tell you. A few more throat spasms and spit, and I told him to head to the bathroom to rinse off (he’s wearing it now, too. ) I move to the phone by my desk (one of those “perks“– having a phone in the classroom) and call the office. All I have to say, LITERALLY, was “Clean up in Aisle Five.” She responded, “Okay, we’ll send Mr. Steve down.” People, that’s service. In case you’re wondering, no, I do not have a stomach of steel, but the thought of me throwing up because I saw my little cherub doing it would have ruined my chances with this class for the rest of the year. And bless them, the kids did not break out in a riot. They did not start yelling out “Gross, ewww, cool!” or anything like that. They stayed focused. So maybe they are starting to come around.

Then the smell hit them, and they had to plug their noses, and I had to attempt to teach the lesson to keep their minds off of the Jackson Pollack on my linoleum. I open the window, and now that fall’s arrived, and it’s 9:30am, it’s cold. So, I can’t win. Mr. Steve arrives a few minutes later, and starts the cleanup process. Because of bodily fluid regulations, it’s a very involved process. First comes the bleach and mop, then the lysol disinfectant for the chairs and counter the path of destruction laid waste to, and the finally, the vacuum. Not the regular, but the full-blown, shampooing, industrial jet-engine cleaner. We share a grin, and I tell him, “Go ahead. Ladies and gentlemen, can you ignore Mr. Steve?”

YEEEEEEESSSSS.

“Ok, then pay no attention to the shrieking you are about to hear.” And then it was loud for the next ten minutes as we went through the first chunk-sucking process, then the shampooing, then the rinsing. The kids tried hard, but for some reason, THEY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. Could it have been:

a) The trauma of seeing a well-liked classmate turn into a volcano, spewing volatile chunks everywhere?

b) The aftermath stench? (A little like over-cooked Cheetos)

c) The freezing toes and shivering arms from opening the windows to combat b)?

OR

d) The DC-10 of a vacuum landing in the back of our room?

So, I was a little frustrated, and since Lucky Me! it was new material and a new concept, I had to go over it again. Eventually, we got back on track, and the students did fine, but it was definitely touch-and-go for a minute there.

And then, I kid you not, we got to go take a standardized test in the computer lab. For forty-five minutes. (In case you’re wondering, that’s a long time for your average 7.4 year old.) The students had never taken this particular test. I’m guessing their mindset wasn’t especially locked-in, but I digress.

So THAT, ladies and gentle peeps, was my Friday.

Again, though, props to most of those kids for sticking through that. Most adults would have been throwing a hissy fit. The cherubs won me over a lot with their performance.

When I need more material, I’ll tell you an even worse potty humor story. Stay tuned!

Sounding Off...

Quick entries today...

We're starting our first science unit, which is sound light, and color. We started having a discussion about sounds, what causes sounds, what we know about sounds, vibrations, echoes, etc. Trying to get them motivated, I started off by having them make "the sounds that annoy your family at home." So they go off, and I make my elephant sound, too. I have them stop, and everyone stops, except for one of my students. One of the shyest so far, the room is completely silent except for him chirping away "Nit! Nit! Nit! Nit!" Though it wasn't exact, it was totally a Monty Python Moment. I almost busted out laughing. Instead, I said " _____, you just made my day."

And then we went on. Somedays, this job is hilarious. I needed the laugh after some of the battles in the last few days.

Show me the Pyramids!

"Mr. K., where are the Egypt books?"

We're in the library. Instead of having computer time today, we're doing our beginning of the year scavenger hunt to find out where everything is. (It's the third day of school.) The kids have been shown different sections of the library, such as fiction, nonfiction, biography, etc. Now they're working in pairs to find books from different sections of the library, or as we like to call it at the beginning of second grade, "liberry."

"Honey, why do you need to find books on Egypt?"

"I need pyramid books. It says so on the list."

"Show me where it says that on your paper."

"Right here."
She points at a word, and I start to chuckle. I look over at the LMC teacher, who's watching this exchange, and she mouths, "Paperbacks?" I nod, ever so slightly, trying hard not to laugh.

"See, right here, it says find a pyramid book."

I cover up the word paper, and ask her to read the last part. She says "Back." I cover up back, and she can't read the word paper.

So when she was reading this on her own, she saw the letter p, and immediately assumed it was pyramids, and therefore needed to look for books about Egypt. That's pretty smart. I was impressed at her background knowledge, and scared that she had that much trouble with the word paper.

"Great, Mr. K. What's a paperback book?"

It's going to be one of those years.

Bring it on.
Oh, it's already been brought'en.

Last Week's Parent/Curriculum Night

I have so much to write about, it's not even funny. So this first post o' the evening will be dedicated to the monolith that has been dominating my life for approximately 60 hours this week: School.

Last night was Parent Night, where I get to tell the parents Everything They Ever Wanted to Know About Second Grade, and Never Hesitated to Ask (About)*. My time limit was 30 minutes, and of course I took 34 minutes, and I CRAMMED. I never knew I could talk so much. Shout out to my classroom computer, for running iPhoto and Keynote without skipping a beat. Last year, the parents had a lot of questions. This year, nothing. I think they were as overwhelmed by the information as I was in giving it to them. I thought it went well, but who knows? I'm sure I'll find out as we ease on down the road.

After surviving the first 2 and a half days of the year, I am walking around in state of catatonia , one thought running through my head...

"Where's my honeymoon phase? Where's my honeymoon phase? Where's my honeymoon phase?"

A honeymoon phase for school means you can expect students to be on their best behavior for at least the beginning of the year, usually three weeks, before they feel comfortable enough to let their personalities (read: neuroses) out onto the playground and into the classroom.

Oh no. I got a day. One tiny little day before I was lied to, abandoned, and putting people on the wall for recess. People, it's Day Three, not WEEK Three.

Today I had a student who went home for lunch (which they are allowed to do.) I didn't think anything of it because the student was back in class after lunch, no problemo. My boss (you know, the PRINCIPAL) came in and called me over. I put James Brown in charge and went to talk to her. She told me the mother was quite suprised when her little cherub showed up at home for lunch, considering she didn't know he was coming. Ouch. So this young pup now has to have a note from Mom any time he is supposed to *actually* go home for lunch. And then I put the student aside and HE LIED. Gentle readers, believe it or not, I really don't get too upset with the little 'uns, because they're still learning. I have much less patience for grown-ups because I know that they should have had at least seven teachers that taught them right from wrong. I eventually got the true story from him, but then at recess I had to put him on the wall for throwing a ball at someone's face, which he admitted to readily. So that happened.

This class is FULL of personality, and I truly enjoy them. Now I just need to work on how to channel it into something productive, instead of some of the destructive behaviors that I'm worried about. Again it's only been 2 and a half days, so obviously I don't know how it's going to play out, and I don't know enough about them. I just want to KNOW:

WHERE'S MY HONEYMOON PHASE?



* Don't end sentences with prepositions.

First Day Jitters

First Day Jitters is a picture book I have read on the first day of school each of the last six years. It's cute because it turns out that the main character in the story (who doesn't want to go to her new school) turns out to be the teacher, instead of student that the kids all thought she was. The story shows the students that even teachers get nervous when they start school.

Today I read First Day Jitters, and for the first time in six years, I didn't have the jitters on the first day of school. I knew some of the kids coming in, I knew the school, so I was much more relaxed today. In fact, I was the most cheerful I have been in the last two weeks, because today was the day that I actually got to see kids! And edumacate them!

So, how did it go?

I think I got less than half done today of all the things I wanted to do. (daaaaaaaaaammmmmnnnn) We gathered on the carpet, played a web game with yarn ("What's your name, what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" Best Response--"Uh, anything with nuts in it."), played a get-to-know-you game where the kids asked preset questions of each other, and we tried to organize our school supplies.

Tried.

Gentle readers, as much as this ebjournal is for you, it's really more for me:

Dear Future Tony:
Remember how you wanted tables this year, and you tried to figure out where you would store all the school supplies? Yeah, you pretty much sucked at that as Past Tony. Next time, why don't you actually LOOK at the school supply list and remember that you have pencil boxes that need a home.

And dry erase markers.
And the 20 extra pencils that don't fit into the little zipper bag that you got for all of them.

And maybe, just maybe, don't give them an activity to do while you're going around to tables trying to collect supplies, especially when they don't remember that they can't just shout for me and get my attention, and you haven't taught them any attention getting signals.

Love,
Present Tony (Ricky)

Anyway, after a trip to Target, I think I solved the pencil box issue. Is my life cool that my biggest screw-up today was about a pencil box, or is my life that lame?

I have to rearrange my schedule tomorrow to pick up all the things that I missed doing today. No big deal. It will be interesting to see how well the students come back tomorrow.

And the kids? They are an interesting group. They are definitely a different crew than last year's bunch, but I think that's a good thing, because it's going to to stretch me as a teacher. One of the boys admitted to me as I pulled him off to the side that he was nervous, and I told him that it was okay; I've been nervous too, and that tomorrow will be better. He smiled then, briefly, and then went back to being nervous.

Tomorrow, first full day of students, and then Curriculum Night for the parents, in which yours truly gets to give a thirty minute presentation to the parents of the children I'll have had contact with for a day and a half. Talk about jitters...

To sum up (in the Dana Carvey/George H.W. Bush voice)-- ready for kids tomorrow, jittery for parents tomorrow night.

Fran- tick tick tick tick tick tick tick TOCK

I love my job, I love my job, I love my job...

Words and music by queen and david bowie

Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you no man ask for
Under pressure
That burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets

Bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah

That’s o-kay!
It’s the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming let me out!
Pray tomorrow takes me higher
Pressure on people
People on streets

Do do do bah bah bah bah
O-kay
Chippin’ around
Kick my brains round the floor
These are the days
It never rains but it pours
People on streets
People on streets

It’s the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming let me out!
Pray tomorrow takes me higher higher higher
Pressure on people
People on streets
Turned away from it all
Like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don’t work
Keep coming up with love
But it’s so slashed and torn
Why why why?
Love love love love

Insanity laughs under pressure we’re cracking
Can’t we give ourselves one more chance?
Why can’t we give love that one more chance?
Why can’t we give love give love give love?
Give love give love give love give love give love?
Cause love’s such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
For people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way
Of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves under pressure
Under pressure pressure
--------------------------------------------------

I don't have the time to go in and psycho-analyze if the words really apply to my job right now, but the song is in my head and won't go away.

The beginning of the year is hard.

Class Lists Posted

Class lists were posted today. All the teachers got our class lists yesterday.

I will have 26 students this year, at least to start. 4 students with IEP's, and three ELL students. I can handle it.

It's go time. I'm nervous, excited, wound-up, and worried all at the same time. And we still have a week until the kids walk in the door.

It's becoming real, as yesterday I created the following nomenclature identification devices: nametags for lunch count, nametags for supply pouch, nametags for the room helper chart, table nametags to hang over the six tables, and table nametags to put on the table. Plus name stickers for the students' mailboxes. I also labeled their math books, with, you guessed it; their names.

Whew!

Today I learned how to make simple Flash animations, and worked with Fireworks, both through the Dreamweaver Studio software. Neither program really has a chance of making it into my classroom, but I enjoyed learning about it for my own personal knowledge. I'll be able to use Fireworks for my class webpage, and well, now I can say I've designed some Flash stuff.

7 days. Tomorrow (Thursday) I'm in my classroom in the morning, and in the afternoon I get to learn how to design CSS, and maybe write a little PHP. Good times.

Nine Days

"This is the story of a girl,
who cried a river and drowned the whole world..."

Just kidding.

Today I got more organized. I went to IKEA (my ONE trip to IKEA a year) and bought cardboard magazine holders. Why? They make great book boxes for student's independent reading boxes. I also bought a little organizer to put on the overhead projector cart for all of my transparent math manipulatives. The little things are starting to come together, but the big things are looming on the horizon. New phonics program? Yikes. New social studies curriuculum? Double yikes. Also, my ideas about reading/reading workshop/guided reading time changes constantly, so I never know what I'm going to teach going into the year until I meet with my literacy specialist, and she whips me into shape.

Tomorrow, if all goes according to plan, I will be finishing the cleaning/organizing part of the classroom, and will be able to focus on planning. I even bought the plan book today. Also, I get class lists tomorrow, which go up on the glass Wednesday. I'm hoping I'll recognize a few names, but who knows? It's been a long summer...

More tomorrow.

Mmm, new category

For those of you teacher folk out there, or those curious to see what I'm doing with my grad school and professional development, I've added the Amazon links to the books I've been reading to learn myself in this crazy world of edu-ma-cation.

Enjoy.

Or don't.