Tag Archives: teachers live at school

>What a difference a day makes

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>I am teaching in a different school today — the school of the outdoors. I took my class to a YMCA camp about 75 miles north of our school on the edge of a national forest. Before we left, I was tense, worried, to put it bluntly, stressed to the max. We left our helicopter parents (you know, the ones that hover) behind and took only those who were experienced campers and decent chaperones. And I’ll admit it, with each mile away from school I felt the weight of the world get a little bit lighter.
There is a sense of magic about camp. Kids who are difficult between the four walls of the school building often find that the outdoors is their ideal classroom. Children who struggle with long division can be experts at steering a canoe. Pre-adolescents find their social pyramid tipped sideways and upside down and begin to see each other in a different light.
This trip is time consuming, tiring, and a lot, I mean a lot of work to prepare, and requires many personal sacrifices on the part of the teachers and their families. Due to my upcoming job change, this will be my last sixth grade camping trip. I can look out the cabin windows, fine-tune my ghost story for tonight’s campfire, and say yes, this was worthwhile.

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>This strange new world goes to college

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>It’s a roller coaster of emotions.
Grief for those at Virginia Tech, the dead, the injured, and their families and friends.
Relief that the shooting wasn’t at my own child’s campus.
Guilt for feeling relief when others are suffering.
Gratitude toward those officers who responded.
Worry — what if the violence spreads?
Hope for healing — for all.

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>One mom and a truck — er, minivan

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>

I taught in six different classrooms in my first six years of teaching. By the time I settled into room seven, I was tired of moving, but I sure didn’t have any “junk” in my closets! I had cleaned and de-cluttered every spring before packing my boxes and dragging them up or downstairs or across town.
Now I’ve been in that same room for six consecutive years, and I’m moving on to a different grade in a different building next fall. Six years makes for a lot of junk. Fortunately, we adopted a new science curriculum this year, which meant I purged most of the old materials last spring. Now I just need to go through six cupboards and nine storage drawers and two file cabinets and… the rest.
I’m determined to do something, no matter how small, each and every day. Here are the small contributions I’ve made to my June moving day thus far.

  • cleaned out my old fifth grade math folders from six years ago
  • emptied the folder with sixth grade camp files (my last trip is later this week)
  • brought home three vases and a tiny teddy bear sporting a “Think Snow” sign (gift from co-worker hoping for a snow day)
  • packed up my fingerless gloves, worn many mornings when the Energy Savings dept. decided not to turn the heat on until the students arrived, and heck with the teachers preparing for the day
  • recycled and/or threw away the contents of an outdated science binder (one down, two more to go)

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>It’s spring…Maybe

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>Outside Temperature: 30 degrees
Precipitation: none falling at the moment, but there are still big patches of white on the ground from this morning’s snow shower.
Outlook: cold
Easter forecast? Tie the bonnet tightly; you’ll need the warmth. Leave the lace gloves at home; you’ll want wool.
Real life forecast? Spring break comes to an end. La Petite goes back to the University tomorrow afternoon. I go back to school on Monday for a staff development day full of meetings and trainings. Amigo’s classes start Tuesday.

Futurecast: Stress.

These transitions are tougher than they used to be, so I made a conscious effort to have a true mental health break. I made just one trip to school to put up a showcase for Autism Awareness Month. I did not check my school email from home. I just took out my schoolbag today and corrected a stack of papers; I’ll do a few more (stacks) tomorrow. I’ll be ready for Monday and the return of the kids on Tuesday. Hopefully, this gradual return to the world of school will let me slide back into the routine without tension headaches and stomachaches, or at least with fewer side-effects.
We’ve had a good break, Amigo and I. He helped me put up the showcase, take blankets to the laundromat, vacate the house when the cleaning crew came, and bring all three bunnies to the vet for a nail-clipping party. Er, appointment. I look forward to summer when we can Field Trip some more.
But all too soon, it’s back to routine.
I have ten weeks of school left. But who’s counting?

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>An open letter to Oprah and her producers

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>Dear Oprah and colleagues;
Thank you for making a contribution to Autism Awareness Month by featuring families of autistic children on your show on Thursday. An hour show has only a little time, and yours opened the window on autism for many viewers.
However, I have some concerns.
I am a mother of a teenager with Asperger’s Syndrome, a diagnosis on the high end of the autism spectrum. I am also the cousin of a more severely autistic adult. And I fill yet another role: that of classroom teacher who has taught several students on the spectrum. Based on my life experiences, both personal and professional, I saw some major holes in the production.

  • The opening was definitely produced with the goal of tear-jerker rather than presenting facts. Facts and concepts can provide dramatic television while providing the audience with knowledge that leads to comprehension.
  • Background knowledge, including your own, seemed to only scratch the surface.
  • Guests and experts were primarily from the Chicago area, and therefore the group was limited in scope.
  • The show didn’t talk about or feature a range of people on the spectrum.
  • Featured guests were parents, not older adults or teens with autism.

As we say in public education, perception is reality. Your show guides perception for many millions of people in the United States. Please consider the points above for future productions. With your opportunities for educating the public, you can expand the perception of autism to include much more reality.

On behalf of many parents, teachers, and people with autism, thank you for your time.

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>Breaking up is hard to do

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>A Head Start director once distributed posters that said, “Change is our friend.” In smaller letters, it proclaimed, “Posting is mandatory.” Yes, she had a sense of humor. Change was the norm in her realm, and facing it with a smile was one way to handle the many changes that were thrown her way on a daily basis.
Change can be difficult. It’s not always possible to face it with a smile. I am leaving my current job for a different one next fall. I hope it’s for the better. I still have misgivings, but leaving is the right thing to do. I should have done this sooner, but you know about “shoulds”. In leaving my job, I’m leaving some of the best friends and closest professional colleagues I’ve known. Ever.
In spring of 2002, we started graduate school together. We were nicknamed the Fab Five, all five of us from the same school in the same district. We carpooled to classes and got to know each other during the 45 minute drive each way. By the time we finished the intense program in fall of 2003, we were bonded for life.
On our last weekend of classes, the weekend we presented our final projects, we came out of lunch to find the car pool van full of helium balloons. This forced us (kicking and screaming, of course) to take this picture. We’ve displayed it in each of our classrooms ever since.
Last October, mine fell from the wall behind my desk, shattering the glass cover. I cleaned it up, vowed to get a new frame, and secretly fought back the superstitious thought that this might be a bad omen.
Omen or not, I picked up a new position. With the support of my Fab Friends, I will pack up my classroom and move across town come June. Despite our distance, I know they’ll still be there for me.
Amy, whose loving and generous son picked out balloons and wrote us each congratulations cards, even though he was only in second grade.
Sara, she of the best and funniest camping stories, now a survivor first class after her battle with breast cancer.
Julie, the calm and cool one, the one who traded classrooms with me when I couldn’t do stairs after my foot surgery.
Dawn, she of the musical laughter, the most talented teacher I’ve ever met. She truly has the Midas touch.
Oh, yes, and I can’t forget how the banana, wearing Sara’s boa, got strategically hung on Dawn’s door with Julie’s and Amy’s help. If I get too serious, these ladies might just post a banana on my door — or fill my room with deer droppings once again.

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>Mom’s playing in the dirt — already!

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>You might be a teacher if:

–“spring cleaning” happens in July
–you finish planting your garden after report cards are done
–you prepare the garden when you can and where you can.

This view has been bothering me for weeks, but I’ve had no time or energy to work on it until now. The tulips and decorative grasses have been poking out of the thawing soil and reaching for that elusive Wisconsin sunshine, and all the while the remains of last fall’s flowers have been blocking their line of light.

Today, I finally got down on my knees and cut them back.

I don’t know what’s growing there now. Are those new shoots from the old plant? This is a flower La Petite bought and planted last summer, so she knows more about it than I do. I hope I didn’t cut it back too far, but it’s too late now. I guess I’ll find out! But for now, the tulips can come up and enjoy the spring sun.

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>A Working Saturday

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>I judged another music festival today. Every time I do this, I come home with stories and quotes. Usually the quote comes from a student performer. Quotes in the past have included: “Let’s go find site 25.” “Let’s go find where there’s food!” and “My accompanist is Mrs., um, Mrs., um…” or “An interesting aspect of this piece is that it’s short.”
Today I was stationed in a classroom normally used for teaching high school English. On festival day, the room gets rearranged and a piano moved in. The judge (me) moves a desk or table to the back of center and holds court there, filling out the criteria form for each performance. In between performers, I stand up and stretch, sip my coffee, chat with the volunteers, read the walls, and generally relax. If there’s a comfortable desk chair, I nab it for the day. Today, the walls provided good reading. Besides the standard posters describing the writing process and the basic Six Traits, there were quotes on writing from writers scattered around the room. Here are a few samples.
Writing is easy. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. –Red Smith
Journalism allows its readers to witness history. Fiction gives its readers the opportunity to live it. — source unknown
And my favorite: A critic is a person who knows the way but can’t drive the car. — Kenneth Tynis
That one is going on my desk at school. And look out, people, I can drive just about anything.

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>Priorities. It’s all about priorities.

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>I picked Amigo up at school today for an appointment, and as we walked out to the minivan, I managed to tangle myself up in his white cane and fall to my knees on the sidewalk. I have two skinned knees and a little bruising/swelling, but it’s nothing a little ice and ibuprofen won’t cure. But as I went down so gracefully (not), I didn’t fear breaking a bone. I didn’t fear spraining an ankle or a wrist. I feared — ripping a hole in my jeans.
Jeans are hard to find for many women. For me, 5’4″ and rather heavy, they’re darn near impossible. I’ve been wearing jeans much too often because Mort has forced me into flat walking shoes for a while, and I just don’t have enough decent, casual pants that work with my Avias.
If my knees didn’t hurt so much, I’d go shopping.
Good thing I’m not training for a long walk!

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>She can walk the walk, and I’m not "lion"

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>Sara has reached her fundraising goal! If you are interested and have not yet made a donation, please direct a few dollars to her walking partner, Ellen Austreng. Here is the procedure.

If you have a few minutes, please check out her web-page at www.avonwalk.org.
To get there:
1. Click on DONATE
2. Click on DONATE TO A PARTICIPANT
3. Click on CHICAGO 2007.
4. Click SEARCH FOR A PARTICIPANT
5. Type in her name (Ellen Austreng)
6. Her name will come up under Find a walker/crew member. Click on it and you’re in!

They walk for their daughters. Let’s hope that our daughters no longer see breast cancer as a “mane” threat. Let’s “roar” in support of these walkers and their cause.

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