Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 22, 2009
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 21, 2009
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 20, 2009
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 19, 2009
As I was locking my classroom door, the head sixth-grade teacher called me aside. “I need to talk to you,” she said. “I have one of your special ed students for after-school tutoring, but I’ve been told that someone from your department needs to tutor her.”
My heart sank. Add another two hours to my school day?
I looked down the hall. There was M-Girl, leaning against the wall, slowly shuffling toward the tutoring room. With her slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, she might have been a condemned prisoner taking her last walk.
M-Girl and I get along well. She was one of my students last year. She’s not a problem behaviorally, and she always calls out my name enthusiastically when she sees me in the hall.
M-Girl is now in eighth grade. She has limited cognitive ability and, in my opinion, tutoring will not significantly improve her linguistic and mathematical skills. But her parents want her to participate in the tutoring program, so reluctantly M-Girl stays after school four days a week.
I understand her reluctance. By the time the closing bells rings, the last thing I want to do is stay in my classroom until 5:30 p.m. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I’m inclined to say no.
However, I did tell the head teacher that I’d think about it and talk it over with the other special ed teacher. What I’m hoping, of course, is that my colleague will jump at the chance to earn an extra $200 per week.
But if she doesn’t?
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 18, 2009
Once upon a time (which is where all good—and even bad—stories begin) in a district far away, I failed a CPR course. Don’t ask. It was ugly. Even though the instructor gave me a second chance, I failed again.
So when our special ed director mandated that every special ed teacher in our district take first aid and CPR training, I was mortified. The memory of my previous failure still haunted me.
Today’s training, however, was far different from the one that left me feeling shamed and humiliated. The instructors were kind and patient. Their goal was to make sure that no one failed. After watching an informative video, they gave us lots of time to practice what we had learned. At the end of the day, everyone—including me—passed.
As a teacher, I need to remember the most important lesson I learned today: A second chance may not be enough. Sometimes it takes a third, a fourth or even a twelfth chance for a student to succeed.
Patience, Magical Mystical Teacher. Kindness.
Then stand back and watch your students blossom.
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 17, 2009
After reading a couple of poems that were shaped like the objects they described, including “The Apple” by S.C. Rigg (a pseudonym of author Sharon Creech), my sixth-graders and I wrote a concrete poem of our own.
First we came up with a list of things that had interesting shapes: sun, train, window, door, chair, snake. The sun won the class vote.
Next, I asked the kids to brainstorm phrases describing the sun and write them on pieces of paper. Then I walked around the room, borrowing bits and pieces from each student, drew a spiral on the board and wrote:
Shaped like a circle,
hot as fire
and brighter than a star,
the heat can fry you like a steak—
and make you dead.
Bright, bright,
the sun gives us daylight,
spinning like a wheel in the sky.
Not too shabby for our first effort.
Of course, our little sun poem doesn’t even come close to the quality of a Shakespeare sonnet, but we had fun teasing language into shape.
I think we’ll do some more teasing.
Soon.
Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 16, 2009


Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 15, 2009


Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 14, 2009


Posted by: magicalmysticalteacher on: November 14, 2009