Exhale.
The first quarter is over. Life somehow exploded in my face and one day, I'm desperately moving classroom chairs from one side of the room to the other between exasperated breaths before the first day of school and then next thing I know, I'm meeting with parents to look over the progress of their students in the first quarter.
Come again?
I guess that is the true enigma of year round school. It makes no sense and all the sense in the world. Time seeps through the hidden cracks between your fingers just slowly enough so you do not notice and then all the sudden, you look down and realize what you were holding onto is no longer there. So what do you do when you are out of time? Reflect.
So alas, here are my reflections. Imperfect and dramatized, but nonetheless, meaningful if for no one else, myself.
I taught four year olds for two months. More than two months actually. I jumped into a classroom with little classroom experience, even less classroom experience with kids below the age of 5, limited resources, no authentic energy, and a ton of adrenaline and was told to swim. Now I cannot tell you for certain that I swam, but I can tell you I certainly did not drown. I slowly learned some imperfect way to keep my head above water. At times, I accidentally swallowed some water when I started to slip, but always managed to emerge unharmed and with a stronger determination. My head is now above water and somewhere way off in the distance I can see the shore. The end of all three quarters. I can see my four year olds kinder ready--scratch that ABOVE kinder ready both academically and socially. I may not be swimming the most efficient and well traveled path, but I will get them there whatever it takes.
So the moment you have all been waiting for (or at least, should have been waiting for)--how was the progress? From day one to now---did they learn? The answer is absurd in its utter lack of simplicity. Yes and no. A lot and barely anything. Impossible to determine. I have no giant success stories. Most of my kids I required to come to the three week intercession or tutoring (or whatever tutoring looks like when you are deficient in colors, shapes and counting) while I take my time off. 13 out of 20 in fact. And in all honesty, I believe closer to 18 of my kids needed it, but I was only supposed to require 60%, so that is what I did. However, due to the increasing complication of being with a four year old (even your own four year old) all day long and balancing work, life and more, all my parents thankfully opted to continue to bring their child to the shortened days during intercession. Maybe during that time, for my five students who still don't know all ten colors or the two who cannot even identify blue--it will click. Maybe for my kids who get to 9 when they count and then say 20..it will click. Maybe for my student who only can identify 1 letter of the alphabet (my goal this quarter was ten)..it will click. I can only hope.
I did have successes however; which are so incredibly important to reflect on. Little or big--anything and everything is worth celebrating when you are up against the odds, as I must admit, I truly am. On my mid-quarter assessment, only 2 of my kids could tell me first and last (an incredibly hard skill at that age) and now well above half of my students can. All except for my new student can identify their first name in print, all of my students can hold a book correctly, identify print versus pictures on a page and all but two of my students can sort objects by either color or shape (a personal area of pride for me :D). All of my kids are attempting to write their name and two of my lowest performers are writing their names correctly (however sometimes the letters are jumbled and you have to take a second to find them all). Many of my kids who came in on the scribble phase are now starting to draw rudimentary people and objects and some of my higher performing kids are beginning to write not only their name, but the names of their classmates with ease.
Are the kids learning? YES. Are they learning enough? Harder answer.
All data aside though, I am proud of what I have done so far. Given the circumstances of my rushed beginning and utter lack of preparation, good things happened in my classroom. Now for the next three weeks, while I have time and more knowledge of what I should of been doing from day one curriculum, structure and management wise, I think things will be REALLY great next quarter. I have a lot of great ideas I finally have time to implement and I now KNOW my kids. I hate to admit it, but I probably know some of my kids (particularly the problem behavior kids because they tend to monopolize my time) more than some of my closest friends. Scary, but the reality of the job. So things are going to be good next quarter. Next quarter, I am positive I will have trials and tribulations, but I am also positive I will have more successes and clearer results than this quarter.
On a cuter note--I am surprising my student's parents with something amazing (or at least I think it is). I am interviewing each of my kids for a couple minutes at the end of each quarter to talk about school, what they are learning and their dreams. At the end of the year I am going to put it all together into a CD and give it to their family so they can see how their child grew (physically, emotionally and academically) from quarter to quarter. I conducted my first round of interviews on Thursday and let me tell you---HILARIOUS. Seriously, if I could post videos of my kids on the internet, they would be up in a second because I have never laughed so hard in my life. Whether it was odd proclamations of "I love playing robot at school" (we don't play robots--I assure you) or a mid sentence hesitation to proclaim "I gotta USE it!!!" (meaning use the restroom in New Orleans slang) or an inability to stand away from the camera, resulting in a zoomed in view of the nostrils- the videos are light hearted and adorable and sure to make parents proud (if not in this quarter, by the last quarter undoubtedly). Moments like that are days when working 7-9 does not seem so bad. While I take my job so seriously, as I am the front lines and essential force in combating the achievement gap for my kids--not a day goes by where I don't laugh. And not just giggle, but BURST into laughter. Because as important as it is for my kids to learn and as serious as I am about their learning, I cannot help but love them as my own. So on the days when I feel like 21 going on 40 as I crawl my aching bones into bed at 9:30 PM, silencing my cell phone from my younger more lively friends, I remember that my students also keep me young--laughing away the exhaustion and burden as T insists for the hundredth time that it is indeed again, his birthday.
In my personal life, I am so ready for a break. I plan to stay up past 9:30 (crazy for someone in their 20s I know), have a couple visitors (the first of which I am picking up in two hours from the airport!) and go home to reconnect with college friends. I plan to work on some requirements for my organization, prepare my classroom and attempt to become a better teacher with better results. I will not lie. This is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, but also the most meaningful. And I know I may be young, but for those of you who know me well, you know I have seldom ventured into meaningless and easy tasks--always attempting to go down the most challenging and most impactful of streets, despite my youth. So I had a bit of a reality check today when I went into Supercuts to get a haircut (mom--you should be proud, I paid for a haircut for once) and the person cutting my hair assumed I was a Tulane student. At first, I thought almost offended--how in the world could she think I'm so young? Despite the reality of my youth, I truly often feel an older soul, especially since graduation from college. But then I realized, if I were more normal, I would still be in college right now. If I had not opted into the fast track for life, as I always do, I would be closing up the first month of my senior year of college. Busy--undoubtedly, but in a different way. For one surreal moment I closed my eyes and imagined myself in my single dorm room amongst 100s of 18 year old neighbors, my only stressors exams, papers and my own personal success. No one's academic fate and let's be realistic--future socioeconomic status--in my hands but my own. For one bittersweet moment I let myself daydream about the freedom of joining 100 different organizations and the mellowness of laying in the commons and the relatively easy life I left behind. I asked myself with hesitation, did I make a mistake? And in all honesty, I can say that I did not. Not even a little bit. Sure I miss college, or if nothing else, the amazing people I left behind, but all good things come to an end and my life right now is exactly what I want it to be. New Orleans is an amazing town filled with awe-inspiring stories, sites and cultures and I truly do love my job. It wears me down to the ground daily, but I always get up the next day because it is a beautiful joy to work with the students and families I work with. I am finding my niche in my new town with my new job and my new friends and it feels right. No mistakes, no regrets, just content exhaustion.
So yet again, I have left you with another stream of consciousness, less than inspirational, but surely genuine blogpost. I miss you and love you all and will be back in a Fort Worth in a few days for those of you I will have the pleasure of seeing!
"Happiness cannot come from without. It must come from within. It is not what we see or touch or that which other people do for us which makes us happy; it is that which we think and do and feel, first for the other fellow and then for ourselves." -Helen Keller
No comments:
Post a Comment