Finding a New Home

So we are done with student teaching. Just like that, we must leave the place that we have called home for the past year. If we are lucky, we may have the chance to stay and teach at our school–most of us aren’t that lucky.

I told my students I would be leaving in a couple of weeks, and they were not happy.

But why are you leaving?

Can’t you just teach here?

Who is going to teach us?

Ummm no. You aren’t leaving.

I wish I had an alternative, but that’s just the way things go. It was hard enough switching to half days and seeing my old students as I leave in the middle of the school day.

Finding a new home will be tough. I have been in the same classroom, with the same staff, with the same students for a year. I have made the daily drive to another county every week day.

I got a glimpse of what it would feel like during Spring break. It was not fun. It was odd not having that routine, and it will definitely be odd during the summer and when I HOPEFULLY get another job.

This has been my home. A place that welcomed me with open arms and taught me so much. It is going to be hard to replace, but I am hopeful.

 

“Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless — like water.”

 

Given that today was the one month anniversary of the shooting in Florida, I decided to do something different in my classroom.

I have a great group of sophomore kids who are very outspoken about current issues and politics. Instead of just talking about the events and having a moment of silence for the lives that were lost, we wanted to do something.

I gave my students a lesson on kindness.

I showed them a video of an experiment that was done with flowers. Every time someone was handed a flower their face would light up.

The goal for today was to make someone else’s face light up.

I printed about 24 random acts of kindness cards and asked my students to write something kind on the back. They were to randomly hand them out and ask the person to keep passing it on. We wanted to spread kindness.

Most students wrote encouraging words, quotes, and some even drew something.

During the break, students had the chance to go to the “hub” and sign a big banner that was to be sent to the Florida high school. My students thought that was the perfect time to spread kindness.

As I was leaving, one of my students came up to me with the biggest smile saying “it works, it really works.” She was referring to the fact that each time she handed someone her card their face lit up.  As I walked away, I saw the principle and he came up to me and pulled out the card that one of my students had handed him.

I guess I just wanted to write about the little things that we can do as a class, not just as a teacher. We can do many things together.

One student wrote a quote from Bruce Lee: Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless–like water. Flow through your haters–the last part he added.

I Did Not Sign Up for This

I could not decide what to write on this week—or maybe I did know what I HAD to write on but didn’t want to. Last week was easily my hardest week yet. Not because of the students. Not because of the content. Not because of the monster known as edTPA, but because I questioned whether or not I wanted to do this.

My week started with a lunch and collaborate. A weekly meeting where everyone gets together to have lunch and discuss upcoming events at our school. This week was different. We had a member of our police department come talk to us about safety precautions given what happened in Florida last week.

That was the hardest meeting that I have ever been in.

Teachers were understandably upset with the safety precautions that are already in place, and they wanted change. The officer was very understanding but did not have any answers other than lock your door, turn off the lights, get into a corner, and last but obviously the worst: wait.

“Wait?!” a teacher said. “Wait to be killed.”

Those words rang through me like an earthquake. I was trying to keep it together because…well I just have to keep it together. It was hard to know that the only choice I had was to corral my students into a corner (where most of them don’t fit) and wait it out. The officer said 3 minutes. 3 minutes. That is all he needed to get to our school.

3 minutes.

I can’t even hold my breath for 3 minutes because that’s how long it is.

When I decided to be an educator I was very young. I wanted to decorate my classroom, read to students–make them enjoy reading. Never did I think I would one day have to protect them from a mad person hell-bent on killing. These were all of the things running through my head on my ride home. I even at one point questioned if I really wanted to do this. I immediately regretted the question and felt bad for asking it. I think the question I wanted to know was if I was ready to do this?

The answer is no.

Am I ready to protect my students no matter the cost?

Am I ready to put my life on the line?

No. I didn’t sign up for this.

I want to be ready because now I have to be, but I am not. How does one get ready to do those things?

I will always protect my students because they are mine. That is my job to protect them and educate them while they are with me.

But as a human being, I don’t know how I will react when something terrible happens.

I feel terrible when I say that I did not sign up for this, but I didn’t.

One thing I can do and can control is to be there for my students. On Thursday only five of my students showed up because there had been multiple threats made to the school. Instead of doing what I had planned, we talked. I listened. I listened to their concerns and opinions. I wanted to hear what they had to say because they are the most important people right now.

We had a long conversation. They expressed their concerns, their opinions. They were very respectful and very well spoken. The best part was hearing from one particular student. Given that I only had five students it was a very small class, but three that were present were the most outspoken of the class. A student who is normally very quiet was very outspoken and the other students were very responsive.

The following day, she was late. All of my other four students were asking where she was? Normally they wouldn’t do that. I doubt they had ever talked to each other before yesterday. She walked in a couple of minutes later, and it was amazing to see how the other students reacted to her. After our conversation, they now knew each other and had built a connection.

As a teacher I feel like that is the only thing I can do now. Listen and give them the space to talk about things.

I didn’t sign up for everything that is going on today, but I did sign up to be there for my students no matter what happens in the world.

Who decided to milk the cow?

Who decided to milk the cow?

Bear with me as I retell this story. It may make sense or it may not–likely not.

I am a big advocate for making time to just write in my classroom. Many times I’ll provide a prompt, a quote, or a picture. Other times, I’ll just let them write about anything on their mind.

This particular day, I let them write about anything–and they ran with that idea.

One student, Aristotle (not really Aristotle), was a very quiet student. He did not speak often, but when he did he had something to say. His writing on the other hand was very loud. He would constantly write about larger than life questions. One day he handed in his journal writing. As I read it I found myself questioning life, and you may too.

“Why is the ocean blue? Who decided on that color?”

“Was someone just walking one day and saw a cow and thought to themselves hmmmm…… I should try milking that?”

I don’t know, Aristotle. I don’t know.
Fast forward to the Academy awards–yes, I said the Academy awards. My school is an academy, so hence– the Academy awards. Every teacher has to pick one student from each class to receive an award. Needless to say, it was hard. I had so many amazing students that I couldn’t just pick one.

The final decision came to who would not be recognized, but needed to be. I had many students in the running who would receive awards from other classes, so they didn’t need an award from me.

Finally, I decided. It was meant for Aristotle. Shockingly enough, I named the award “The Aristotle” award. Done.

Not done. I quickly found out that there was a speech involved. Cool. No big deal. I can talk in front of the staff, the principal, all the students, parents, the world–no big deal…

It was a blur.

I remember putting on my tiara( a different story for another time).

Seeing the stage

And walking back.

It was over.

I did it.

Once I got over the nausea, Aristotle found me. The look in his eyes was perfect. He told me that he knew he was getting an award, but didn’t know from who. He was very thankful that someone recognized him. The fact that he came to find my afterwards was everything. He wanted to thank me in person, and tell me that I was his favorite teacher. As he walked away, I thought to myself that is one great kid. Even my principal complimented my pick stating “that’s a good one.”

I told Aristotle that I thought about naming the award “Who decided to milk the cow” award, but some parents may not get it.

He laughed and showed off his award to his peers.