The pre-planning week, my supervising teacher was in trainings all week, so I was in charge of setting up the classroom. At the beginning of the day, she'd make a list for me to complete by day's end.
I'd turn on some music, have it done by lunch, and get to read a book (a rare treat for a mom of two littles) until I could leave. I learned how to make bulletin board on bare walls, how to build cubbies, and how to scale filing cabinets to hand letter cards. It was a lot more fun than it sounds, I promise.
Yesterday began the 4th week of school. I knew that teaching is not for the faint of heart, but dang. According to my supervising teacher, this is the craziest class she's ever had. The first day of school, we had to call parents and send students to their own "islands" away from the rest of the class. The third day, we had to re-do the seating chart completely. We exhausted our "bag of tricks" in the first 2 weeks. Being nice didn't work, bribes didn't work, yelling and screaming didn't work.
These kids are characters, I tell you. One is designing rocket shoes, and she's taking it very seriously. Every spare second of the day is spent doing research on aerodynamics and jet propulsion. This kid is going to do big things with her life, I can tell. We have a student who's so witty that it gets him into a lot of trouble. My absolute favorite kid (I know, I know. We're not supposed to have those, but if you were here, he'd be your favorite, too.) is A. A is an average to slightly below average student. He comes from a crazy home life and doesn't get a lot of positive attention, but dang it all if he doesn't work his butt off for me. And he's hilarious. Puts me in stitches every single day. For example, we were checking math homework, and every time he got an answer right, he yelled out, "BINGO!" I told him, jokingly, that we aren't playing bingo, we're playing "check the math homework." After that, he'd yell out "Checked the math homework!" and do a dance when he got a question right. My teacher and I were dying laughing. If we can get his to harness his charisma for good, he'll be set. He probably won't go to college, as is the case with most of these kids, because of less than stellar grades and test scores, but he's going to make the world a better place, just by being himself.
Then there's J, bless his heart. The first week of school, his hand shoots into the air, and he's waving it and hollering for me like his leg just got bitten off by a coyote. I come rushing to him. I kid you not, this was our conversation:
Me: What's wrong?
J: I dropped my paper on the floor.
Me: ... so pick it up.
J: Okay.
He then begins to lean over to reach the paper that is clearly out of reach. I have to tell him to stand up to go get the paper. He's a B+ student. It's not that he has a mental difficulty. He just has absolutely no common sense whatsoever. I gave him an eraser to put on his pencil, and, I kid you not, he couldn't figure out what to do with it.
Then there are the kids that make my heart break. C can't tie his shoes in the 3rd grade, and K doesn't know her letters. A "normal" reading rate for third graders is 77 words per minute. These two are below 10. They are prime examples of kids failed by the school system. We're working with them as much as possible, but K doesn't come to school (already missed 8 days), and C gets frustrated and gives up easily. Honestly, I can't blame him. If I couldn't read, at all, in the 3rd grade, I'd be upset, too.
Last Friday, my supervising teacher was out of town, so it was just me (with substitute supervision). By 10:30, I was spent. Normally, there are 2 of us trying to keep them from swinging from the rafters. It was crazy. I'd used up my tricks, so I just broke down. I was completely honest. I told them how sad I was that we can't do fun things. That I have a Pinterest board with 100 fun things that I want to do with them, but we can't because they won't be quiet and follow directions. I told them that I've given up hope of being able to have fun with them this year. Although it was not my intention, my honesty turned on the lightbulbs. For the rest of the day, they were a normal class. They walked in line, listened to instruction, and got rewarded with a dance party because we got done with our work early. I really wish it hadn't come to me losing my mind, but I'm glad something clicked, finally.
No comments:
Post a Comment