first-quarter follies, a glimmer of hope

     Last week was "exciting," but the kind of exciting I'd like to leave behind as first-quarter folly.
First off, I had to physically steer Superstar out of the room a second day in a row on Thursday. He was angrier than the day before, and trying much harder to pull away. I had a student grab his things and help me walk Superstar to class.
     I got back to the room, heart still pounding, when two of my other boys started pushing each other. Two referrals in one day = bleh.
     Friday: I was tired and not feeling well, but happy to see the week end. Some of my girls got into an argument in class during language arts, so I pulled them outside for a quick talk. One of them got really mad and took off running. I had to dash after her and found her on the field. Luckily, she listened when I asked her to come over. I put my arm around her shoulders and walked her back to class.
     To deal with the interpersonal conflicts, and head off any more, I've instituted (with the help of my mentor teacher, Orchid) a weekly meeting for students to air concerns. I can't say how much I appreciate Orchid's assistance in this matter. I know she has a lot of commitments, but she's decided to help me run the weekly meeting.
     Our first meeting was Friday. It's interesting to see how the students respond to the meeting. About half of my students were very engaged, raising their hands and sharing concerns and possible solutions. The other half were bored, slumping in their chairs, silent. When I specifically asked one to talk about a fight he had participated in, he refused to speak. What troubles me is that these students won't even own up to being part of a fight, or calling someone a name, etc. I am willing to work with someone who can say what he or she has done wrong. Everyone makes mistakes; mistakes can be a valuable starting point for learning and growing. But how can I help them learn and grow when they won't even say that they've done wrong? To me, it is so important that students practice self-honesty; I _want_ students to say for themselves what's gone wrong.
Our class is definitely a work in progress. But I figure we can only go up.
Some very small good things:

• We filled up our good-news jar. On the way home I stopped by Costco to get the class brownie bites for an end-of-day treat. I plan to "challenge" the students to fill a much bigger jar.  No matter how rough a day I've had, it puts me in a different mindset to hear what things have worked out that day. I hope it helps the students too, to hear about the positive and not just the negative.
   
• The students, strangely, have been almost jumping out of their chairs with enthusiasm about multiplying fractions. The "duh!" revelation I had today: it's because they want to write with the pretty-colored whiteboard markers to answer questions on the board. Well, whatever works ...
  
• Pilot is feeling much more comfortable in class. I was so pleased when he raised his hand to READ ALOUD from a book during language arts this week. He's also started raising his hand to answer math questions on the board.

Small but significant steps in the right direction ...

1,000 WORDS: ready for some wander time

The best part about the impending week-long intersession: a free hour or two to wander around with my camera! This photo is from July; haven't squeezed in some serious camera time since then. Can't wait.

one itty-bitty good thing

     One of my mentor teacher's suggestions was to focus on positive behavior using a jar and marbles. For every positive thing noticed, the teacher would drop one marble in the jar. Marbles cannot be taken out, only added. When the jar is filled, students get a little treat.

     I debuted the jar today, with pompoms in place of the marbles. I told students that we were going to have a new classroom job -- "good-news collector." At the end of the day, the good-news collector would ask students to raise their hands and share what positive things had happened. It got a bit noisy today, but it was nice to hear students sharing about how they helped someone or someone helped them. I think this will also help me focus on the good things; I feel like I've spent too much time looking for bad behavior.

hey, what about that yellow brick road?

     7 more school days until our weeklong intersession. I feel bad for being so enthusiastic about a solid week away from my students, but it's true that I am looking forward to that time off.
     Neo, Junior and King always come to school early, so this morning I used that time to do some goal-setting with them. I had them write down on a card a goal (sitting down, listening, etc), why it was important, and how I could help them. It was a good chance to talk about: do you prefer me to stand next to you and quietly remind you, or are you OK with me saying something from the front of the room? King opted for just a hand on his shoulder; Junior opted for a quiet verbal reminder; and Neo, surprisingly, said he was OK with a reminder from the front of the room. I had them put the completed card in their desks then sent them off to breakfast.
     Superstar stopped by as the students were lining up outside. I didn't catch what happened (verbal teasing is my guess, or maybe someone made a rude gesture at him), but all of a sudden he put his sunglasses and backpack down and lunged toward the boys' line. I had to grab him by the arms from behind to keep him from hitting someone. One of my grade-level colleagues came over to help me steer him away. I ended up having to walk Superstar to his class, with my arm firmly around his shoulders the whole time. I turned him over to his teacher, but kept myself between him and the door because he tried to go back to my class again. I saw him at recess, and he was his usual cheerful, playful self. Again, a silent prayer of thanks that my students haven't hit their growth spurts yet; just about everyone is shorter than I am. I suspect those growth spurts are just around the corner, however; I started pricing deodorant/ antiperspirants this weekend because I walked past some students after recess the other week and noticed for the first time that they were smelly.  Good old hormones kicking in.
     Unfortunately, I didn't get to see how the goal-setting worked, because the trio were yanked out my room after recess. They were lined up outside, and the trio were horsing around, talking loudly, etc. I was standing next to them, trying to get them settled, when Junior and King's fourth-grade teacher walked by. In an instant she took in their behavior, bounded over in a few furious steps, and launched into a tirade that started with "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" (Yes, the volume and fury merit all caps). She then took them with her, to call their parents and explain why they were in trouble. They came back teary-eyed and cowed-looking to apologize to me and their classmates.
     The incident with Superstar reminded me of my first day on my school's campus, as a wide-eyed aspiring teacher. The bell had just rung for dismissal. I was sitting on a bench outside the library, watching the students disperse, when I saw a girl dash towards the front office. The vice principal was close behind, and he took her by the arm. She dropped to the ground and began screaming "let me go" over and over again. It was a striking sound -- to this day, I can't find a way to describe it adequately. The closest I can get is to say that it almost sounded like a robot, or a tape recording, because of its repetition. The VP restrained her and with help pulled her off the ground and into his office. That was my official "Toto, we're not in a comfy suburban school anymore" moment.
   I was talking to my sister recently about some of my classroom travails, and she tried to cheer me up by pointing out, at least your job isn't boring. Yeah, that's true, but it would be so nice right now to have a boring day.

cry me a river

     When I student-taught in fifth grade (it seems ages ago, but isn't really), I remember that one of the things that surprised me most was how often the boys cried.
     This observation holds true for my classroom. Boys who have cried lately: Junior, as mentioned in the previous post. Pilot, today. Biblio, today as well.
     My class had cafeteria duty today, so I marched the students over after recess. They didn't need everyone, so I had to take 3 students back to class. Pilot wanted to go back. I decided I wanted him to stay. He's so quiet and shy that I think any extra time he spends interacting and working with classmates is invaluable for his development. The students who were returning to class were standing against the wall, and Pilot walked over to join them. I told him he needed to get in the other line. He shook his head, but didn't say anything.
     When I said he was going to stay, he began to cry. I don't like making my students unhappy, but I felt the potential benefits outweighed his momentary unhappiness. As a shy person myself, I know how easy it is to follow the path that takes you _away _ from other people, instead of toward them, even when you really want to choose otherwise.
     This is my first mention of Biblio. He reminds me a little of me at that age. One of my clearest memories of fifth grade was a day when we were taking a spelling test.  I finished early and dove into a book. The teacher had to literally dig me out of the book to get me to join the class for the next subject; I hadn't heard the directions at all. Similarly, I will find Biblio sitting in the book corner, immersed in a book. He also leaves piles of books around the room. He is singularly disorganized; I've started checking his bag as he leaves to ensure he has his homework.
     Mom came in for the parent-teacher conference this afternoon, and Biblio sat with us. I started off by asking him to tell mom what he needs to work on. He said that he talks too much. We also discussed how he walks around the room, socializing and playing with things, instead of doing work. I pulled out the vocabulary practice from last week that Biblio had not completed, despite ample time in class. He got teary-eyed as mom lectured him about completing his work. He also had to show her his messy desk (not at its messiest point, but that's because we just rearranged seating and he hasn't had time to build his usual piles).
     Mom is very invested in Biblio's school success, so I'm looking forward to seeing some positive changes.
     All these tears remind me of what a friend's sage advice: "Remember, they're just little kids."

a fractious Friday

The worst part of it was that he smiled. 
I told Superstar to go eat breakfast, then gave Junior a serious tongue-lashing. We stood side by side near my desk, while his two compadres circled the room and eyed us but kept quiet. 
What happened? Superstar was on his way out of the room to eat his breakfast, when the Three Musketeers entered. They began to taunt one another. I recognized trouble brewing and headed over. I told Superstar to go outside and told Junior to come to the other side of the room to talk to me.
That's when Junior hurled the taunt of "little girl" at Superstar, then took a few steps past me and pushed Superstar. 
I grabbed Junior's wrist. He was smiling, no doubt at having played the tough guy in front of his friends.
Neo, to his credit, tried to defuse the situation, putting an arm around Superstar to prevent a push back.
The tongue-lashing included the statement that I was going to call Junior's mother and let her know what happened, because this behavior is unsafe and unacceptable. As the tirade continued, Junior began to sniffle.
I talked to Junior's mother on Saturday, and have a parent-teacher conference set up as well. 
In a way, I'm really happy that Junior cried. It tells me that he understands how unacceptable this behavior is, and regrets it. I'm looking forward to talking to his family in person.

It's that time ...

Parent-teacher conferences kick off tomorrow.
Tonight's to-do list:

• Call about 10 families that did not return the appointment form to see if they can be scheduled  
•  Sort a substantial stack of student papers to use as sample work  
• Go through the grade book to see who's been doing homework faithfully and who needs some parental reminders.

I ran over to my grade-level chair's classroom early this morning to ask: just what do I do with those 15 minutes of parent-teacher conference time? One more thing for a new teacher to learn ...
The kids whose parents I am most interested in speaking with in person did not bring back their forms. Scheduled a phone conference with one, but would really prefer face-to-face meeting if possible with the rest.
Had a great math lesson yesterday, team-teaching with two colleagues and the university prof who is helping us plan lessons. However, broke out the base-ten blocks today and had an awful time of it, as kids were more interested in constructing things than showing me what is the equivalent of one-fourth ...
One day I'll get this teaching thing down. Hope that day is coming sooner than later.

a little smile

Pilot moved here from the Philippines. He is extremely quiet and shy; a few weeks ago he refused to speak when I had students introduce themselves to a new classmate. But bit by bit, he seems to be getting a little more comfortable. Recently, I had students working in pairs to study vocabulary words. Each pair had to present their word to the class. I was surprised and pleased that Pilot read aloud the word's definition. It was in a very soft voice, but for him to speak at all in front of the class was a big step. I think it definitely helped that I had him work with his seatmate, Teddy. Teddy is gentle, helpful and friendly; I deliberately seated them together so Pilot would have someone to watch out for him.
Another sign of progress: In those first days of school, Pilot didn't smile at all. About a week ago, I instituted my hug-handshake-high five exit policy, as a way of closing the day and connecting with each student. He's started flashing a little smile as he shakes my hand on the way out the door.
The 3 Musketeers are still a handful, but repeated talks with me, the counselors (and some detention) may be helping them. I noticed today that they are reminding each other to "listen to the teacher." I remind myself each morning to be patient but firm and consistent, to be encouraging, to not give up. It feels like I ask the same questions over and over again, questions such as: What were you doing just now? (talking loudly without raising my hand, not listening, playing around). What are we as a class doing right now? (vocabulary practice, math, reading aloud). What different choice can you make next time? (ignore my friend who wants me to play around with him, listen to directions, ask for help if I don't know what to do). I strive to tell them that the work is doable for them, that I will help if they will try their best, and that I know they can make good choices. They do respond well to one-to-one assistance; I resorted to that today with Neo, because it looked like he wasn't going to do any vocabulary practice without it. It's just tough to figure out how to help all of your kids equally; I have some who need just as much academic help, but admittedly don't get as much because they don't have disruptive behaviors.  If there's some magic algorithm for figuring out how to help everyone equally, I'd love to know what it is!