Next year...
I'll be teaching the following:
1. Language! -- a scripted, phonics-based program
2. Language Arts -- using reading strategies, writing
3. Ancient History
The good things: Only 2 lessons to plan each day! 60 kids a day instead of 30-- so if a kid makes me bonkers, I don't have to deal with him/her all day long. Less stress. More time for after school clubs. Team teaching means more collaboration.
The bad things: Only 2 lessons a day! Repetitive lessons can get boring. I'll miss teaching science and math. 60 kids now rely on me to teach them how to read. EEK!
Also, fantastically, I've been chosen to be part of the leadership team, to lead our 6th grade team, and to start the drama club.
Booyah!
I'm so glad not to have 1st year status anymore.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
New Pet
Yesterday, I acquired a new pet. And then I killed it.
Say what?!
Let me explain.
I walked into my bedroom just in time to see a creature scampering across my carpet.
Well, let's be honest.
It wasn't scampering. It was scurrying. I had flipped on the light and it wasn't happy about it. It twitched its little antennae. And then fled behind my shoe rack.
A ROACH!!! I was horrified. I whipped out a Shaniqua-like voice and said
"Oh hell no! Not in MY house!"
Snap, snap, snap.
I sprayed the repugnant demon with Windex, then my magnificent cat cornered him for me and pawed him into submission. Then, I scooped up the horrific little bastard into a yogurt cup and maniacally laughed as he swirled down my toilet bowl. I imagined his tiny, crackly, roach-voice screaming. Which made me feel better because my internal, crackly, girl-voice had been screaming moments earlier.
Now don't get me wrong, I love creatures. Snakes are fabulous, slimy worms are fun. I'm okay with spiders. Mosquitoes are annoying, but I can deal with them. Ants-- a minor irritant. Scorpions are kind of terrifying, but fascinating. But roaches?! To the toilet!
I don't care if they're Miracles of Evolution (is that an oxymoron?). If Mr. Roach comes into my house, and he's history.
Ancient history.
Atlantis's history.
Down into the water you go.
Say what?!
Let me explain.
I walked into my bedroom just in time to see a creature scampering across my carpet.
Well, let's be honest.
It wasn't scampering. It was scurrying. I had flipped on the light and it wasn't happy about it. It twitched its little antennae. And then fled behind my shoe rack.
A ROACH!!! I was horrified. I whipped out a Shaniqua-like voice and said
"Oh hell no! Not in MY house!"
Snap, snap, snap.
I sprayed the repugnant demon with Windex, then my magnificent cat cornered him for me and pawed him into submission. Then, I scooped up the horrific little bastard into a yogurt cup and maniacally laughed as he swirled down my toilet bowl. I imagined his tiny, crackly, roach-voice screaming. Which made me feel better because my internal, crackly, girl-voice had been screaming moments earlier.
Now don't get me wrong, I love creatures. Snakes are fabulous, slimy worms are fun. I'm okay with spiders. Mosquitoes are annoying, but I can deal with them. Ants-- a minor irritant. Scorpions are kind of terrifying, but fascinating. But roaches?! To the toilet!
I don't care if they're Miracles of Evolution (is that an oxymoron?). If Mr. Roach comes into my house, and he's history.
Ancient history.
Atlantis's history.
Down into the water you go.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
What I learned at my teaching conference...
So, after attending a teaching convention for five days I learned a lot of things.
1. You've got to feel psychologically safe before you can participate in group work.
2. Most people look at data the wrong way, and thus, feel judged by it.
3. A room full of teachers and administrators is both a wonderous and terrifying place.
4. Teachers really do have the best stories.
Such as....
Earlier this year, a bunch of 5th grade boys on my campus found a bag.
Filled with sex toys.
Used sex toys.
And the receipt was still in the bag.
Can't beat that, can you?
.
1. You've got to feel psychologically safe before you can participate in group work.
2. Most people look at data the wrong way, and thus, feel judged by it.
3. A room full of teachers and administrators is both a wonderous and terrifying place.
4. Teachers really do have the best stories.
Such as....
Earlier this year, a bunch of 5th grade boys on my campus found a bag.
Filled with sex toys.
Used sex toys.
And the receipt was still in the bag.
Can't beat that, can you?
.
Wonderful Things #1
Wonderful things about living in Arizona:
1. You get to live in 100+ degree heat. Today, I was lucky. Today, I experienced 106 degree weather. I say "weather" because its the only thing that changes from day to day. Tomorrow, its likely to be 108. Then later, 110. Sunny. No clouds. No humidity. Just varying degrees of eyeball- scorching heat. What's sad is that I can tell when its above 110. Then, its truly miserable.
Thermometers here should read:
Warm.
Warmer.
Surprisingly, yet Comfortably, Hot.
Eyebrow-Raising Hot.
Can't Walk on Concrete without Burning your Feet Hot.
Don't Bother Driving-- your Car is an Oven, Hot.
Don't Bother Leaving your Apartment at all Hot.
Eyebrow-Burning Hot.
Tears Evaporate Hot.
Magma Evaporates Hot.
Depths of Hell Hot.
At least they have named places down here accordingly.
Tempe. That's an easy one. Tempe is just a shortened form for TEMPERATURE. As in, you'll feel like you've got one as soon as you enter the city. No, sir. That's not a bbq. That's your own skin you smell burning. And I'll bet you taste just like chicken... or maybe not a chicken... maybe a.....
Phoenix. What is a phoenix, you ask? Why, its a bird rising from the ashes after it had BURST INTO FLAME. Mmm. Delicous.
Peoria. Now, here's a toughie. Luckily, I've got insider eyes. Originally, settlers came from Peoria, IL and settled in the NW Phoenix area. Like those settlers, I too migrated from Peoria. So, I can guess as to their motivations-- Peoria, IL is a hellhole. Those poor bastards trekked 1,700 miles and, I'm guessing, stopped when they were struck by beauty. Both Peorias are pretty-- no argument there.
However pretty, both have their own distinct dangers. In IL? A symphony of sirens and gunshots. Here you've got the scorching sun, stabbing cacti instead of trees, post-apocalyptic rubble instead of grass, snipers and car thieves a plenty.
Famous last words? "But, it is a DRY heat, honey!"
.
1. You get to live in 100+ degree heat. Today, I was lucky. Today, I experienced 106 degree weather. I say "weather" because its the only thing that changes from day to day. Tomorrow, its likely to be 108. Then later, 110. Sunny. No clouds. No humidity. Just varying degrees of eyeball- scorching heat. What's sad is that I can tell when its above 110. Then, its truly miserable.
Thermometers here should read:
Warm.
Warmer.
Surprisingly, yet Comfortably, Hot.
Eyebrow-Raising Hot.
Can't Walk on Concrete without Burning your Feet Hot.
Don't Bother Driving-- your Car is an Oven, Hot.
Don't Bother Leaving your Apartment at all Hot.
Eyebrow-Burning Hot.
Tears Evaporate Hot.
Magma Evaporates Hot.
Depths of Hell Hot.
At least they have named places down here accordingly.
Tempe. That's an easy one. Tempe is just a shortened form for TEMPERATURE. As in, you'll feel like you've got one as soon as you enter the city. No, sir. That's not a bbq. That's your own skin you smell burning. And I'll bet you taste just like chicken... or maybe not a chicken... maybe a.....
Phoenix. What is a phoenix, you ask? Why, its a bird rising from the ashes after it had BURST INTO FLAME. Mmm. Delicous.
Peoria. Now, here's a toughie. Luckily, I've got insider eyes. Originally, settlers came from Peoria, IL and settled in the NW Phoenix area. Like those settlers, I too migrated from Peoria. So, I can guess as to their motivations-- Peoria, IL is a hellhole. Those poor bastards trekked 1,700 miles and, I'm guessing, stopped when they were struck by beauty. Both Peorias are pretty-- no argument there.
However pretty, both have their own distinct dangers. In IL? A symphony of sirens and gunshots. Here you've got the scorching sun, stabbing cacti instead of trees, post-apocalyptic rubble instead of grass, snipers and car thieves a plenty.
Famous last words? "But, it is a DRY heat, honey!"
.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Brainsnot
Well, my brain has officially turned into snot. I think the Egyptians were right in their theory... mine could easily be taken out with a hook and thrown away.
Today, I spent roughly 7 hours trying to prove to the state that I'm not completely incompetent. Two tests, professional aptitude and content. Six pages of essay, two hundred extremely wordy multiple choice questions later... and my brain is mush. After a while, the words were starting to swim in front of my eyes. Sweet little backstrokes.
I had forgotten how wretched standardized testing is, and how easy it is to feel like "screw it, I'm tired, I don't care anymore!" Hopefully I'll remember this next year, and can help my poor students better when they have to run the gamut.
In a couple weeks, I'll let you know if I passed. Now, its time to pass out. Sayonara, folks!
Today, I spent roughly 7 hours trying to prove to the state that I'm not completely incompetent. Two tests, professional aptitude and content. Six pages of essay, two hundred extremely wordy multiple choice questions later... and my brain is mush. After a while, the words were starting to swim in front of my eyes. Sweet little backstrokes.
I had forgotten how wretched standardized testing is, and how easy it is to feel like "screw it, I'm tired, I don't care anymore!" Hopefully I'll remember this next year, and can help my poor students better when they have to run the gamut.
In a couple weeks, I'll let you know if I passed. Now, its time to pass out. Sayonara, folks!
Friday, June 01, 2007
Final Bell
The bell rang today.
And my kids all stood still, turned to statues by the sound that usually sent them scurrying to their seats. They stood still. Then, some of them started to cry. And then, they all began to hug each other.
They wouldn't leave. My divas, my trouble-makers, my clowns all coagulating in the middle of my room.
Some days are exhausting, but I love my kids and my job. I am so proud of everything they've learned. The worst part, by far, is seeing them walk out my door.
And my kids all stood still, turned to statues by the sound that usually sent them scurrying to their seats. They stood still. Then, some of them started to cry. And then, they all began to hug each other.
They wouldn't leave. My divas, my trouble-makers, my clowns all coagulating in the middle of my room.
Some days are exhausting, but I love my kids and my job. I am so proud of everything they've learned. The worst part, by far, is seeing them walk out my door.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)