Cruising through the last two weeks.....

As I strongly suspected, I finally got myself and my classroom together. The kids are settling in, and the new IA is a lovely young woman with good instincts and a kind heart. My to-do list is usually not too long, and I am finding the time I need to do what needs to be done.

With only 4 kids so far (the fifth one never showed), we are teaching up a storm and the kids are eating it up. What a joy to plan for and teach kids who enjoy books and math and games and singing....

It's the sharing and the writing and the taking turns that freaks them out. It's keeping an even keel when every fiber of their being wants to scream and stomp and curse and lash out.

That's happening too, the lashing out, but we are managing with some grace and dignity.

So far, so good.

How will I ever catch up?

Boxes yet to unpack... files to refresh..... supplies to label and store....

Oh, and make sure each day is tantalizingly planned for....

This is my challenge. At 3:20 when the busses pull away, I am happily exhausted, and intend, with every last bit of energy, to catch-up.

I start with my lessons, because they deserve my best attention. By 4:45, I can't muster the wherewithall to do anything more, so things go undone. Until I get back here tomorrow morning at 7am and start all over.

Experience tells me it all will eventually get done. The little naggy voice inside of me complains about laziness and disorganization. I shrug, and choose to head home for my pre-dinner nap.

Sweet dreams.

Happy New Year!!

Happy New Year....

I love this feeling. It's a mix of joyful anticipation and thoughtful resolve that I will do all I can to make this the best year ever. Unlike the silly feeling in my stomach that comes the night before Christmas, this excitement is both tempered and enhanced by the idea that I am in control of much of what will come my way.

I get to choose my reaction to every little bump in the road.

I get to ask for help when I need it, and help others when they need it.

I get to play with new ideas, continue what I know works, and keep on trying to learn more about being the most effective teacher I can be.

I am blessed to have such a wonderful job with wonderful people.

I'm a teacher, and I love it.

Too much....

We attended the Memorial Dedication Service at VaTech this afternoon. The weekend had been wonderful to that point, what with moving our Hokie Girl into her new apartment and helping her get settled for a new year. Thoughts of Reema and Erin were strong, and I asked to go by their old rooms in the dorm to pay my silent respects. Luckily, no current dorm residents were around, so we could pray a moment at each door, both grateful for their love and hopeful for the healing their families' still need to find.

The ceremony itself was just fine. The weight of sadness felt familiar, as did communal experience, the understanding that we were in this together.

Again, we were reminded that those lost left much undone, but had lived extraordinary lives nonetheless. We were called to continued service in their names.

And now comes word that another of my daughter's school friends is one of Tech kids' sickened by carbon monoxide in their apartment. She is on a respirator, we hear, receiving the best care available. We are praying for her and her family and all those affected by this useless tragedy.

This feels like too much.

It's starting... and it feels so good....

I've been into school twice over the last week to participate in staff interviews. When I walked in the door I was bowled over by the smells and sights of being back, and it was a very good feeling. This bodes well for the new year. At some point, some year, I guess I'll approach September with less enthusiasm and more dread. Then I'll know it's time to stop.


For now, I look forward to the kids' arrival and the close work ahead with my friends and colleagues.

For now.

On being a worthy model.....

It's a staple of good parenting, and of good teaching.... Be sure and model the behavior you want your kids to demonstrate.

So when teachers use sarcasm and bullying tactics to get their message across, how can we be surprised when these same kids are disrespectful and detached?

When we teachers seem bored with our lessons, when we lack passion and deep understanding of our discipline, how can we be surprised when our students' approach to learning is joyless?

It's a fundamental truth in my classroom: as I implore my students to work hard to stay in control - to choose more appropriate ways to handle their anger - I have to be vigilant as I deal with my own frustrations in the classroom. No yelling. No physical outbursts, no banging on a desk or slamming a door. No threatening. No blaming others.

It's no wonder I go home somedays and feel completely exhausted. Keeping my emotions in check when so much around me is chaotic is draining. Sometimes, at the end of the day, my voice is raspy and strained; not from raising my voice, but from working so hard to control it.

But it's much easier to sleep at night when I've been true to my goals. When I slip and get testy, I can forgive myself, but only if I promise to try harder. The kids deserve it, of course. And no matter how righteous it sounds, it is satifying to do what is good for kids.

We are Hokies....

Grief and worry has kept me away from this blog.

As the desperate nature of the shock has transformed into a dull ache, I have had no time or patience for doing anything more than what's necessary to get me and my daughter and family through.

We can pretend for parts of each day that everything is back to normal. I am blessed with the kind of job that keeps my mind busy, too busy to light on the thought of beautiful Reema. The pain in her mother's eyes. The pitiful sound my daughter makes as she calls out from her restless sleep. The picture of Erin on the cover of her funeral bulletin. The senseless loss of each of the 33.

If left unchecked, my mind drifts to memories of Reema and my girl flitting across the soccer fields and the dance floor, two scrawny little girls, waif like, but powerful in the way well-loved kids can be.

So I am checking out for awhile longer. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

Even in our grief, we have to find some laughter....

A true story told to me by my dear friend, a WVU mom, about her grandson, also a rabid Mountaineer supporter:

A 13 year old middle schooler had been closely watching the news about Virginia Tech. The first time he met up with his grandmother after the shootings, he was noticeably concerned and thoughtful. After they agreed it was a terrible tragedy, the boy looked squarely in his grandma's eyes and made a solemn promise:

"I tell you what, Grandma, I'll never flick off a Hokie again!"

Prayers to our university community...

Some of you might remember my daughter is a Hokie. She is safe, thank God, but the pain and terror remains. One friend is dead and another struggles for life.

The Hokie Nation is gasping in horror and clinging tightly to each other. This poem was posted on a VaTech sports website by a UVA grad. We stand together in the wake of senseless violence.

Wind sweeps through the mountains,
Wiping away the innocence,
Tears stream like rivers,
Oh what senseless violence!

A nations heart is broken,
Youthful lifes hardly begun,
So many yet to have spread their wings,
So early to have stopped their run.

An act of utter cowardice,
A sensless attempt to hurt,
So many lives this has affected,
Optimism and hope left inert.

Today we are all Hokies,
No matter where we are from,
Though on the field we may be enemies,
Today we hold Virginia as our Home.

God Bless.

Thanks for the "birthday" wishes...

At EBDBLOG, one of the sites I check daily, they have noted my second year anniversary as a blogger.

Feels like it was just yesterday when I impulsively pushed the Blogger button and began to figure out how the blog thingee worked. I always knew I had something to say, it was just a matter of deciding that THIS was the right forum. Even as I get distracted and blog a bit inconsistently, I always come back.

As ever,thanks for reading my blog.

And now, for your protection.....

Our school is scheduled for a LOCK DOWN drill this week, an activity whereby we two teachers lock our classroom door, turn off the lights, whisk our class of highly reactive, emotionally impaired six year olds to a corner of our room where we are meant to sit in absolute silence for 10 to 15 minutes... and if we don't, a team of security specialists acting as school intruders will detect our whereabouts....

It's a nightmare.

Our administrators have worked hard to get the security folks to understand the sensitive nature of our ED kids and the many other special needs kids in our building.

I'm told they agree not to bang loudly on our doors to provoke the kids into breaking the rules and screaming.

I can't wait til this is over....

Begging for attention and anything else that's needed..

This lazy Saturday morning, my sweet dog, Cayenne, is repeatedly bumping her nose into my hand, asking for.. no demanding.. what it is she needs. She won't give up until I pet her head and rub her belly.

You have to respect this kind of unabashed neediness. If we all were as honest about what would make us happy, the world would be a less complicated place, that's for sure.

I'm thinking about my students' behaviors over the years, and how tough it's been to wade through all the distractors to get to the real issue: "How will you meet my needs, Mrs. Ris?"

For many of my kids, it's a matter of providing immediate basic needs. Here's a juice box and breakfast bar to get you through the morning. You were up late because of your family's partying and fighting? Take a little nap in the bean bag and I'll catch you up on your lessons later. Need a clean t-shirt? Let's check the extra clothes bag.

Sometimes we can't even begin to give kids what they crave. In a six hour day I can't hug a kid enough to make a difference... although we all try. We can't makeup for a home life of humiliation and threats. And when a child's brain chemistry is off, all we can do is be as structured and consistent as possible, and pray the meds will work.

We plan our lessons with attention and detail; we overplan and, as necessary, change up our plans on the fly to meet new roadblocks. It's complicated and draining to be so focused on doing what is right.

So this morning, when Cayenne looks so lovingly my way and keeps nuzzling my hand, I'll thank goodness for her uncomplicated, honest "begging". It feels good to satisfy her needs so easily.

Hard work...

His is learned helplessness of the most debilitating kind...

He hims and haws, shakes his head, throws over his chair, and pleads loudly.

"I can't do it! I don't know it. I can't!"

If you just came upon us as I worked with him on his phonics lesson, you'd think I was a real witch of a teacher. I ignore his tears, demand more of him, make him start over when he balks.

I question myself as I push, push, push. I feel so evil. I want to hold him in my lap and assure him that everything is okay. Gently wipe away his tears. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

Somehow, I keep pushing. I can feel it deep down that this is the right thing to do after all these months of carefully moving him down the path to learning.

Do it again, Mike.
Try it again.
No, start over.
Look again.

He takes a bathroom break, and so do I. As I walk out into the hall, another teacher and her student are reading together. The teacher, new to our school, looks at me differently. I feel judged.

Mike takes his seat again. I put the word and sound cards out again. He starts, fumbles just a bit, then starts again. He does it.

I am too exhausted to rejoice. For now, we smile at each other, and breathe.

Update

Tuesday morning, I put Mike's phonics cards out for him to do. He said something alittle whiney, then sighed and instantly put them in order. Task done. Lesson learned. For both of us.

Bring em on!

6 days off-- thanks to the ice and snow storm-- and I feel rested, rejuevenated, and ready for tomorrow.

I am really looking forward to seeing my kiddos, and I am excited about getting back to my lessons. Really excited!

I think this is anectdotal evidence that I would do well on a year round schedule where periodic breaks come in small doses throughout the year.

Until tomorrow.....

Update: The Kindergarten Lincolnphiles

According to kinder teacher Kathy, her students seemed to "know" alot about Honest Abe even before they started the unit. With a smile on her face and a light in her heart she reports:

- "Lincoln was George Washington's brother.
- He saw slaves and had a dream. (Do we get credit for making a connection?)
- He died when he went to the movies."

Again, these are the moments that keep us coming back, right?

"Father Abraham"

I use discussion of Abraham Lincoln's life as a springboard for comparing the past with the present. It's almost a universal truth these last 18 years...kids like learning about our 16th president. His story resonates with kids, rich and poor, black and white, tall and short,etc. His likeable geekiness shines through all of the children's biographies I read to my classes. In one activity today, we compared elements of Abe's life with our own, including the famous one room log house, his non-traditional family (stepmother and stepsiblings), his tendency to sneak away from his chores to read, and the hard, physical labor he did to help his family (chop down trees, plow the fields, etc.).

When they see his likeness on the penny and the five dollar bill, they really understand his historical importance!! A few years ago, one of my boys said "What money has George Bush on it? THAT'S how you know he's a big deal."

Attention, Karl Rove....

Lastly, one of my big hearted boys today swore that if he lived in Lincoln's time, he would have been a bodyguard to protect Abe from the bad guy.

You have to love 'em.

The Parent Connection.....

It's inevitable; "teacher talk" will turn to parent responsibility and participation, and how too much or too little affects the quality of our teaching lives. Studies reveal the value of positive parental participation, especially with regard to student achievement. However, we all know that when parents come to us with distrust and a dislike for school as an institution, our communications are generally unpleasant. Such unpleasantness can be burdonsome.... and goodness knows we teachers don't need anything to make our job harder.

So with this in mind, I share the following:

1. I invite parents to class and school functions with genuine hopefulness and an open heart.

2. I send reminders because I know it’s so easy to forget. I’m a parent, too, so I know how kooky schedules can be.

3. I phone, leave messages, email and otherwise keep open the lines of communication.

4. I try not to call only for the negative stuff.

HOWEVER....
5. I do not hold my breath when parents are meant to call back, send papers back, email back or otherwise respond to communication from the school.

6. I never hold kids accountable for their parents lack of participation in school functions. I try, as much as possible, never to say anything about their folks not participating. This can be a very humiliating thing for kids. They know when their parents can’t or won’t make connections with school. No need to give the kids a reason to build defensiveness. After all, the real relationship that needs to be maintained is that between me and the child.


Not only does this save face with the child, it saves time, AND prevents a lot of hand wringing and useless declarations about the sad state of parenthood in this country!

Over the years, I have learned the importance of focusing on what it is I CAN control. I control my decision to continue to keep open the door to my kids’ parents. I hope for the best, but prepare for non-participation. That’s my reality, and to accept it leaves me the energy to really work with my students. Them, I have for 6 hours a day. I choose to concentrate on that.

The Point of No Return

At about 10:00 this morning, on a day when 3 of my bi-polar students are cycling, when the little boy who has been such a terrible challenge these last months is banging doors and tearing up the timer and throwing legos at the windows, at this very point in time, the crisis counselor leaves for a meeting.

The crisis room is closed. For a full hour in our day, that critical support is unavailable.

Thus began a succession of mini tantrums escalating to large-scale crises, and we are a full staff member short, and even if we were fully staffed at that moment, it wouldn't have been enough, because these kids are in a spiral, feeding off each other, and their insatiable need for stimulation and attention goes unchecked and untethered.

To be fair, the purpose of the meeting was very important and child-oriented. Clearly, the folks involved needed to meet.

My gripe is the decision to make convenient their meeting time at the expense of what the other children and staff need.

Striking the kind of balance needed in the management of a school like ours is very, very difficult.

And today was way more difficult than it had to be. For me, my intern, and our kids.

That's Entertainment

Poor little guy.

Without his ADHD meds, he was absolutely, unequivocally, unable to settle his brain on any single thought. He struggled to comply with routine directions; he genuinely apologized when redirected. He talked to himself and rolled across the floor and ate voraciously.

He giggled at his own jokes and growled at children who were bugging him.

Imagine having to concentrate on word families, number lines, or retelling strategies with so little control over your own thinking....

Today, we kept marveling at how cute he was. We shook our head and tried to imagine how this kid even got through a day in a full-sized, general ed classroom.

If he shows up tomorrow like this, ummm, it won't seem so cute.

The beginning of the end of a challenging era...

The meetings have been held, the options presented and discussed, and now it's in the works.

My biggest challenge, my kid in the eye of the storm, is going to be heading off to "contract services". His parents start visiting/interviewing privated schools next week.

I accept this change with a mix of emotions: some relief, yes.... a feeling of hope for this family who will probably get more support services once the change is made.... and a wave of sadness. Saying goodbye is going to be hard. He loves us, and loves our school. In the long run, a change is going to be very, very positive. In the here and now, we are in for some heartwrenching moments.

Whenever teaching is presented as a science, a skillset focusing on content area expertise, lesson development and effective assessment, I will always remember this little guy and the piece of my heart he took with him.