Back to School Shopping

After receiving my layoff notice from MPS in the middle of June, my biggest career priority quickly became finding a new teaching position. I was Back to School Shopping, but not for clothes… for schools. I applied to every open 6-12 English teaching position I could find, went to many interviews, and zipped off dozens of cover letters. Meanwhile, I watched and waited for news of MPS calling back its missing educators. Unfortunately, that news never came, and while several interviews elsewhere seemed very promising, a secure offer evaded me. I relied heavily on the support of my friends and family as I sent applications off into what seemed like a black hole. I traveled to nearly every city in the greater Milwaukee area for interview meetings. But I wasn’t going to “shop” anywhere that would include a commute that was over an hour long. You’ve got to draw the line somewhere.

Famous last words. A good friend of mine from my undergraduate program teaches at Sheboygan Falls High School, which is a one hour, ten minute commute from my Milwaukee home. (By the way, she is an excellent fellow blogging teacher—blog currently in transition, link to come.) She encouraged me to interview early in the summer, but I politely declined. “It would be great, but it’s just too far,” I said.

Fast forward one month. I am still unemployed. My friend calls again, wheedling her way into my consideration. “Just come interview,” she says. So I go.

The interview was fantastic for several reasons. It was actually a registration day as I walked into the school, so I got to see the building alive with kids, and I was extremely impressed. There was so much energy and positivity, and an observable sense of school pride. I entered the office, and met the principal, some teachers, and administrators. All of them were extremely welcoming, open, and progressive when it comes to their views about what education should be. Sheboygan Falls High School is a school that aspires to become a model site for 21^st Century learning and teaching in every facet of its operation. With high achievement, high involvement, and a respect for teachers as scholars and innovators, it is a paradise for any inventive, tech-savvy educator. I saw very good things when I interviewed at the school and, to my great happiness, they saw good things in me, too. Within a week, I was hired. I’ll be teaching tenth grade this year.

As luck would have it, my husband’s workplace is right on the way to Sheboygan Falls, making carpooling feasible and breaking up the drive. Even more fortunate, my aforementioned teacher friend lives in the same town where Jacob works, so I’ll have her for company as we travel up to SFHS and save gas at the same time. It’s funny how things work out.

I am excited about this new beginning, and the chances it offers: creating a classroom blog with a network of student-authored blogs, operating a wiki workspace where students can upload and organize files, designing student research and presentation projects that utilize audio-visual components, and anything else I can dream up. I am lucky to be teaching in an environment that expects me to invent, and wants classrooms where students are questioning, working, and creating. Cheers to a great year at a great placement! I can’t wait to see where it leads.

Dear Teacher,

As the reality of leaving MPS continues to sink in, I’m feeling many different emotions. Much of this is mourning for the classroom, colleagues, and students I’ll leave behind. It’s a time of transition, and a difficult one at that. But despite the looming emptiness of those feelings, I can’t help but feel simply grateful for this past year. I have a stack of letters that I’ve saved from students over the course of the year, and all I have to do is read through them to put a smile on my face. Here are some of the things they’ve written:

“I just wanted to thank you for teaching my last year of English. I couldn’t have picked a better teacher.”

“I enjoy going to your class every day. Your class is the one I look forward to. I have so much fun!”

“I appreciate Ms. H, just because she’s awesome in her ways.”

“You are an amazing teacher and mentor. Thank you for having the patience to put up with the Class of 2010!”

“You are pretty much the reason that I am going to college. You helped me so much, even when no one else had time.

“Thank you so much for giving me someone to talk to when I needed it. You were the only one I actually opened up to. I had a good time in your class.”

“I think you are one of the coolest people I have ever met and you are one of my favorite teachers at this school. I felt extra special when you pushed me towards going to college… I guess what I’m really trying to say is that you inspired me.”

“You made English, the one class I always hated, fun for the first time. I looked forward to coming, and actually did read the books.”

“You always told me I was an amazing thinker and writer. Thank you for that. I promise, I will keep writing.”

“I love you, Ms. H and I’ll miss you! You rock!”

They may be written on folded looseleaf, sometimes with an occasional spelling error, but these letters are worth their weight in one hundred dollar bills. So often, it’s not that easy to tell if you’re making a difference as a teacher, if anyone is paying attention, if your students are reacting to what you do. But in the end, they usually make themselves known. I thank each one for their letters–they will mean a lot to me long after their authors have forgotten that they were written.

Writing Project (Back to School, Teacher Edition)

I’ve been given the great honor of being selected as a National Writing Project fellow, as part of the UW-Milwaukee Writing Project site.

My Writing Project work will start this summer, and I couldn’t be more excited to explore this chance for graduate credit, professional development, reflection, and my own evolution as a writer as well as a teacher of writing. I’ll be working with a select team of other educator-writers, with a wide range of teaching experience and writing strengths.

Here’s the research proposal I’ll be working on, along with a brief reflection on myself as a teacher-writer:

I am fascinated by the often overlooked connection between student image-making and written composition. It is my belief that creating visual art can prompt, guide, and enrich student writing, and I’ve experimented with this idea in many ways in my own classrooms, from illustrating grammatical constructions to using drawings as an alternative notetaking technique. However, one type of visual art hasn’t been used in my lessons very frequently—photography. I have the feeling it has potential to explode (in a good way) the possibilities of my writing-lesson repertoire, if only I can figure out how to use it!

Formalized, my question is this: How can photography be used in tandem with writing of various genres? The composition of image and the composition of writing share many traits—focal point, contrast, imagery, symbolism, mood, perspective, purpose… I feel that illuminating and working with these similarities would make students stronger, more mindful writers. Other possible uses might involve students composing visual essays with a companion written portion, using photography at the idea-generating stages of writing, documenting evidence of research with photos, or even using reactions to the images of others as a pathway to writing. Also, beyond just generating ideas for methods, I’d like to investigate this: How are these methods beneficial in learning, motivation, community building, and preparing students for our visually demanding cybersociety? Adolescents live in photographs. They are constantly taking, sharing, and posting digital pictures—this is how they record their lives. If implemented well, translating this tendency into classroom work may help students become impressive, image-savvy writers of today… and tomorrow.

As a writer, I am voracious. I write to understand myself. I write to communicate. I write to create. I write to get things from my brain out into the world in permanent form.

Being an author was definitely a consideration in my search for the ultimate career. I’ve been blessed with an easy grasp of grammar and mechanics from an early age, which freed me to use my time entirely to refine my ideas during revision. I’ve had a few pieces of fiction published in literary magazines, and I have a creative writing binder that’s thicker than a phone book. I love writing, plain and simple. When I worked as a college writing tutor during my undergraduate work, I realized that I loved tutoring and teaching writing almost as much as I loved doing it. My current writing class for 10^th-12^th graders, too, is my gem of the day. It’s a joy to teach.

My flaws as a writer also spring from my personal connection to the task of writing—my words can tend to become self-involved. I sometimes get so caught up in trying to express exactly what I’m thinking that I miss explaining clearly what I mean. For some reason, when I write, I sometimes turn into that too-mysterious movie that nobody truly understands, even when the credits roll. So my main challenge lies in making sure that my writing makes my thoughts clear to my readers. This carries directly into my writing instruction as well. The students who are authors-to-be get all dreamy-eyed when I wax poetic about, for instance, sensory imagery. However, that other 90% of my students may not be receiving the message. I need to make writing accessible for my students, and let them find their own reasons to love it, rather than expecting them to absorb mine by osmosis. None of us is alone in this world; nor should our writing be.

I am so looking forward to summer, anticipating the fresh new ideas that will come with rest and study, and knowing that I’ll find things to translate into my teaching. Year One is going great, but I’m already looking forward to Year Two, because I can’t wait to start building on the (still small!) base of techniques and curriculum that I have at the moment. I’m ready to work hard, and–again–I’m so grateful for the chance to become part of this academic community!

For more information on the National Writing Project, visit their website HERE.

You’ve Done Wonders…

The teacher who had my classroom before I moved in stopped by for the first time since he moved out in the summer. (It’s amazing how some staff members rarely venture out of their wing to see the rest of the school! I, myself, can be guilty of this.) As he peeked in the door, his eyes popped. “Wow!” he said, “You’ve done wonders with this room!”

“Thank you!” I replied, thinking to myself: Oh, my friend, you have no idea how happy you have made me with that single statement.

“Yeah,” he added, “Well… you saw it before.” And with that, he gave me a smile and headed back to the first floor.

I am insanely proud of my room, and while I know it’s not perfect, I feel like I’ve been able to do a lot with what I was given. When I came on the scene, the room was set up in long, straight rows, with little more than a giant chalkboard, graffiti-ridden bare bulletin board, and beige walls.

This is what it looks like now, complete with Semester Two improvements!

Message Board

Full View of Class Arrangement, “Circle of Rows.” This was a new design that I came up with to keep me always within three desks of any student, plus it makes it easier for them to see both the chalkboard and the projection screen, which are on different walls, without their views being obscured.

Plus it gives TONS of space in the middle for me to roam around in as I lecture.

Ask and ye shall recieve–I finally got my laptop and projector, which lets me do Powerpoints, video clips, interactive internet stuff, and more! AWESOME.

I keep this guy by my desk to remind myself that not only do I have a cool job, but I also get PAID to do it.

Supply closet, with some nice images!

Publication wall for student work.

Every morning, I gather my things on a sunshiny table, look out the window at the pine tree, and beyond that, the city streets. I take a deep breath, smile, and get ready for another day!

Just a Phase

Behold, a nifty little graph given to me by my district mentor:

I thought this was rather entertaining, especially considering the current time of year. Apparently, I’m m0ving swiftly from survival mode into “disillusionment”, which looks like an all-time low as far as morale is concerned.

I’m pleased to say that I don’t feel anywhere near the bottom of that valley. Every day is a new chance to learn, to test my strength, and to hang out with my students. While I do submit to the idea of seasonal changes (especially losing light here in the Midwest) having a real effect on the attitudes and inspiration of people in general, I’d like to redraw this graph to a steady uphill climb. We might slip along the way, but we’re building on the progress we’ve made, and every step brings us closer to the top.

As I say so often, struggles do exist. BUT, we first year teachers that plan on staying… we have to be stronger than the statistics.

The Caring Classroom

Last week I had the privilege of attending a professional development workshop as part of the PEP grant at my school. I had gone to the first session of the series last year as a student teacher, and it felt good to be back. It was so nice to have a day away from school where I could reflect more completely on my practice and think about what I do that’s successful as well as my areas for improvement.

The workshop was held in the endlessly charming Milwaukee K-12 school Golda Meir–which is an unbelievably remarkable place with, no doubt, the cutest kids in the city. (But I digress). The presentation was led by Laurie Frank, author of the book Journey Toward the Caring Classroom: Using Adventure to Create Community. [You can view an extensive preview of Laurie's book by clicking here.]  I was impressed by her warmth and wisdom.

The seminar focused on techniques and strategies for creating active, brain-based learning using constructivist teaching methods. (Quick review: constructivist means that students and teacher are working together to construct understanding, beginning from what is known and familiar, moving to the generation of ideas and products, then revealing the underlying general concept, and eventually applying that knowledge in practice…)

Much of what we talked about included things I’ve heard of before, but I was newly reminded of how important it is to design instruction that accomplishes a few very important things that are so often overlooked in teachers’ efforts to “get through the content” or even “get through the day.” Some of these important things, which I know that I need to refine, reinforce, and newly commit to are:

*Consciously and transparently building compassion, trust, and open-mindedness into classroom instruction.

*Engaging the senses, including utilizing physical movement in instruction. Allowing a controlled goofiness to occur once in a while.

*Celebrating baby steps, and allowing students to attempt a new strategy multiple times before expecting it to run smoothly.

*Teaching, practicing, and assessing procedures as well as content.

*Reinforcing instruction with hands-on, interactive activities.

*Using brain-research to inform constructivist lessons.

*Realizing that the environment, both within and outside the classroom have a significant impact on student performance.

Talking about all these things set some new teaching ideas swimming about in my head, which was wonderful! But much more wonderful was the heightened sense of commitment I began to feel. Hearing stories from many other educators from the city, I noticed that the theme running through the discussions was that of a sincere devotion to teaching, and a fierce, almost protective, zeal for giving kids the best, safest, and most enjoyable education possible. It pumped me up to get back in the classroom and keep building that community that teachers and students create, piece by piece, hour by hour.

We’ve got a lot of work to do.  Let’s get crackin’!

Scenes from Room 201

This is where I spend my days…

Back to School – Meet Your New Teacher!

So, the first time I tried to write about this topic, this is what happened:

Before I defaulted to spirals to help myself contemplate my feelings of anticipation and nervousness associated with the start of the school year, I had in mind a witty vignette for this post, in which I would muse on the monstrous back-to-school displays at my local Target. I planned to deftly tie in some commentary on the differences between being a student and being a teacher during the back-to-school madness.

But I think there’s something more honest to take away from my writing-turned-doodles (other than the fact that I draft my blog posts on paper), and that’s this: I really do have a lot on my mind. So I’m going to keep it real. As a first year teacher looking to September 1st, here’s where my thoughts are going…

1. Who’s going to walk through that door? I am so excited and nervous about meeting my students. I was lucky enough to be hired at the school where I did my middle school student teaching, so I already have an idea about the school population–it’s actually really fantastic, because there are students from so many different backgrounds, races, and languages… I love that. I’m teaching 7th grade English, 12th grade English, and Writing Lab, so I’ll get to see a broad range of age levels. Also, I’m really pumped about the fact that I’ll eventually have some of my former eighth graders again, once they become seniors. But I’m also aware of the huge class sizes and wondering if these kids will be as sweet as the students I had there last year. Since I’ll have about 130 students total–that’s a conservative estimate–I’m really worried about logistical things like learning all those names, remembering who’s in which class, and enduring the giant workload when it comes time to grade papers.

2. Can I handle this without going insane? Self-explanatory… I technically have 7 months of true full-time teaching experience already, but I can’t help feeling that this is the “big deal”, since it’s my first permanent postition (and the first to offer a full salary). Teaching takes a spark, and I’m very aware of mine… and afraid of losing it. I’ve done so well so far, but the possibility of self-doubt lurks around a couple corners. Can I really do this?

3. I am SO thankful for the many supports I have in place! One thing that eases my nerves is thinking about the awesome support system that I am fortunate enough to have. MPS has historically given very little support to its new teachers, and as a result has seen a tremendous turnover rate. Lucky for me, they have recognized and remedied this phenomenon by assigning various mentors at the district and school levels. I feel totally upheld by my district level mentor, who I just met this past week. She’s unbelievably bright, experienced, and simply nice. And get this: she will be checking on me and offering support every week. Unbelievable, right?! Not only that, but I have a great mentor at my site, and my “buddy teacher” is my former cooperating teacher, who I trust and respect completely. Add to the mix my super-supportive family and friends, and I have a very fortified network. I am deeply, deeply thankful for all of them. 

4. Will I be able to get my classroom and unit plan ready in time? The first day of school is fast approaching and I’m still moving in to my classroom, and I have many things I want to revise for my first-few-weeks game plan. I’m trying not to get overwhelmed, but I certainly don’t want to be underprepared. I’m trying to work as much as I can, yet still find some time to enjoy these last precious days of summer. Deep. Breaths.

5. Why am I doing this? Amidst all the nervousness, it’s good to remember why I’m here. I’m here because teaching is my calling. Because I care about this city’s youth. Because I have passion and creativity that I want to share. Because writing, reading, and critical thinking are some of the highest human callings. Because I love literature. Because I love to question. Because I want to share my knowledge and excitement with others. Because I love to have intelligent discussions about things that matter in this world. Because I am commited. Because I know how to teach well. And because no one can do it like me.

Here’s to a successful fall term. Wish me luck!

My Tour of Duty

Over the past five weeks, I had a teaching adventure that few have the chance to experience. The place? St. John’s Northwestern Military Academy. The task? Teach a semester of English in five weeks to a group of remedial students from grades 7-10, two three-hour-long classes a day. Throw in the fact that the boys live on the grounds and also have intensive military training and athletics each day, and you’ve got quite a unique situation.

My challenge was creating a curriculum that could cover a wide range of standard language arts skills, that would be accomplishable in five weeks, and that would engage a bunch of teenage boys who hate English and got kicked out or failed out of other institutions. From day one, we were told to design a project-based curriculum, since most of the students have a history of failure in the traditional lecture-test pattern of schooling.

I ended up being inspired by Joseph Campbell’s work on mythology and the journey of the hero. When I think about stories and ideals that motivate and interest young men, hero stories top the list. So I built everything around that core idea—the hero’s journey. We started out talking about literary structure and archetypes, looking for common threads in plots, theme, and character throughout history and across genres. Upon that, I built my literature lessons—helping students to (in many different ways) learn to look beyond the literal events of a story to uncover the reasons beneath the stories we know, read, and tell. We used Lowry’s The Giver and Steinbeck’s The Pearl as our primary written texts.

For the project, I had students design a world for a videogame or film, complete with detailed character descriptions for the seven classic archetypes, illustrations and diagrams, and a full original narrative that brings a hero through the twelve stages of the hero’s journey, what Joseph Campbell termed “monomyth.” The writing piece of the project allowed me to work in grammar lessons as well as mini-lectures on descriptive writing, varying sentence rhythms and (my favorite) show-don’t-tell. [P.s. Campbell’s work is absolutely fascinating, and reading it makes me wish that I was teaching a college class on mythology… It’s super-complex and very meaningful. I’m looking into buying “The Power of Myth,” a PBS special which features a lengthy interview between Campbell and Bill Moyers]

Many boys did great on their hero’s journey project, coming up with unique characters and really involved stories. They were witty, action-packed, and often hilarious. Considering how difficult these students could be to motivate, I was blown away when several of them turned in over fifteen pages of single-spaced type for the story portion of their project.

It was a crazy five weeks, especially as I’m unaccustomed to the environment of a military academy. It’s a whole different feel when students live on the grounds and see nothing but each other all day, every day. Clearly, discipline was strict. It was a surreal experience to demand ten push-ups for every minute late to class! It was also very fulfilling to have a class that was more like a family than anything else—small classes and long class periods gave us no other choice! Also, since the boys are separated from their parents, being a teacher at the academy means assuming a role of adult support and value-reinforcing as well.

I am so grateful that I had this opportunity to sharpen my teaching skills before fall, and to be part of a school that is truly a separate world from mainstream schooling. I’ll miss my boys, and hope that they will carry their newfound academic and leadership skills into the next school year.

Meanwhile, it’s time for me to start planning for fall! But before that, I think I’ll take a long-awaited week off.

Student No Longer

Today was my final day of student teaching–my transition day from an intern teacher to a licensed professional. I feel very “floaty”…   Reality hasn’t sunk in yet.  But it’s there, somewhere in the back of my consciousness: I’m done. Walking out of the doors of the school where I learned how to really step up and teach felt so strange. It’s amazing to me how a place that seems so large and generic upon first visit turns into a home. Here’s a shot of my (now empty) classroom, where so many frustrations, questions, and breakthroughs occurred.

In the spirit of celebration, here are my favorite final moments with each of my classes.

Ninth Graders

For my final unit with my freshman, I had them create a literary magazine. They worked through a series of five writing projects (character sketch, poetry, comic, flash fiction, and editorial), and then did extensive revisions based on my comments, their own ideas, and the feedback of their peers. They then selected one or more of their projects to publish in a class literary magazine, which I put together with their artwork, biographies, and introduction. On the last day of class, each contributor got a bound copy. We then squeezed our 32 desks into a circle and each writer who wanted to could read from their piece. They wanted to stand in the middle of the circle, so I said, “why not?” It was so charming to see these precocious, vibrant, sassy kids get their moment with all eyes on them, reading their own writing with flashing eyes and lilting voices.  They were so proud, and it did my heart good to see these kids stand in the spotlight, seeing their original words on the page, important and real.

Twelfth Graders

My senior class, which really became a family this last nine-week session, has been an absolute joy to teach, so I was very sad to see them go a week earlier than my other students for graduation. Their final exam was on a Friday, and I spent the weekend glumly denying the fact that I would miss them terribly. But on Monday, they came back! Nearly my entire class came back–bearing food and cake and gifts as a surprise party for me. It was so much fun to let down serious teacher mode for that final, extra day and just enjoy the company of my students for one more 90-minute class. I was proud to announce that every last student passed English 12, and many of them with flying colors! I was so honored and touched by the awesome party that they threw for me. As we sat, celebrated, and shared our plans for the future, I could do nothing but smile. I’ll end this post with the letter that they wrote for me–no doubt I will never forget my very first group of seniors!

Dear Miss “H”,

From the gracious and humble bottoms of each and every one of your senior students’ hearts, we all thank you for being a well-crafted teacher who understood us as youthful and changing teenagers that needed a little bit of guidance and direction, because, let’s be honest, we are all approaching adulthood at a steady pace and we are very much scared out of our minds at how the future is going to be. We have all had a good time in this class. Even when we all doubted that we were going to like Hamlet, you showed us otherwise. After reading Hamlet, I kind of have a little more willingness to live, to be, to not die, to not sleep, to not dream perchance, but to be awakened and take action. And I will do just that, but after summer vacation of course! We congratulate you on your award for teaching and once again we thank you for being the best student teacher ever!