Thank goodness for (near) normalcy. It's no longer Halloween week, no more candy induced locura, but we have 5 assessments to dole out this week. (Groannn). A digraph CFA (Common Formative Assessment for those who don't speak teacher lingo), some new ELA benchmark business, a math assessment, the PWA, and I guess I exaggerated because that's only 4. Still, people. I just want to have time to actually pull groups and meet the needs of my students..but instead I'm assessing them on things I haven't even been able to address in small groups very much yet because I've been busy assessing! Ahhhh.
Tomorrow is election day. I just had a long talk with my mom about how to engage in productive discussions about politics, especially with people who are just as passionate from the other side. I thoroughly believe in meeting people where they're at and being respectful, but I often struggle with pushing aside emotional responses to have productive discussions. I end up just avoiding the issue or taking the conversation personally. This is something I need to work on. All that aside, I hope that all reading this will vote for what you believe is best for our country-- and encourage those around you to do the same. We all deserve a voice-- young or old, educated or not, rich or poor, to make this a true democracy.
As for tonight, time to head off to my new favorite Monday activity...TRIVIA NIGHT! Bring on the election questions, David and I have memorized the propositions prior to this so hopefully that will help us out.
I will leave you with a lovely story from today...
My wonderful Kindergarten teacher colleague came in to share exciting news during Writing time today. One of her students who is repeating Kindergarten, who knew nearly no sounds at the beginning of the year, knows 24 of 26 sounds! We all celebrated and I nearly cried. How wonderful it is to see progress in our babies... It makes this job sustainable even when it's not. ;)
Monday, November 5, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Would you like to have a tea party?
Halloween is over. Now, I love Halloween, but THANK GOODNESS. Our Fall Festival parade went swimmingly, thanks to the fourth graders holding my adorable first graders' hands and leading them around the block in their beautifully homemade flower costumes. I got to stroll next to them, enjoying the sunshine and all the handmade costumes the Art teacher at our school helped our students create. It was the calmest, most enjoyable Halloween yet. At our school, we don't allow any added sugar, so leftover candy was a big no-no the day after Halloween. But of course the kids were hyped up Thursday and Friday, two of my hardest days this year thus far. Wiggles galore, lots of crying, and one frazzled Ms. Estrada. In addition to the locura, though, were some downright gems of quotes.
"Ms. Estrada, your dad is brown. And you are white." My dad came in a couple days before Halloween with an Elephant and Piggie-carved pumpkin. I think my students died of excitement. And MR noticed the difference between my dad's rich cocoa skin and my more milky blend of tan and white. We discussed my mom's skin, my dad's skin, and my skin. I loved every moment of it. I think discussing race and facilitating a classroom where students feel safe to share their observations and to talk about them critically is extraordinarily important. In first grade, skin color is a great place to start.
"Ms. Estrada... I was just thinking about what would happen if my brain got up and walked into a sleeping body and that person started acting like me. What if our brains all switched?" So smart.
"Ms. Estrada it just emptied my heart when he wasn't listening to your words." "Yeah, my heart just exploded into itty bitty tiny baby pieces. They're on the floor. Want to pick them up Ms. E?" Oh, lord. I don't even have words. This quote and the last are by the same lovely little pixie.
After having NS hold my coffee as we walked in line, he smells it, looks at me, and says "Teacher, this be decaf?" I die, then tell him "No, I want my coffee to wake me up!"
Same student, different day, as I'm reading Horrible Harry and describing what a bun is since Harry loves when Song Lee wears a bun in her hair, NS shouts out "Ms. Estrada, I know what a bun is! Sock buns are the best. They're prettyyyy." What 7 year old boy knows about a sock bun?
Annnd my personal favorite...yesterday we began Mindfulness, where a trained facilitator of Mindfulness in the Classroom comes in and helps students find their anchor point and practice calming their body, using a bell and various techniques. It was incredible! After sitting and listening to the quiet and noticing the sounds around us and inside us, DD raises her hand to tell the instructor she heard something inside her body. "I heard 'Would you like to have a tea party?'" And he just nods calmly and says, straight-faced "Sometimes we hear thoughts in our head." I was sitting still with the kids, but had to walk away from the rug and turn away to laugh as quietly as I could to myself. SO good.
It's nice to remember the good things going on. I have a couple students who have been through extreme and traumatic circumstances in their lives, and as a result, really struggle in the classroom. I am doing all I can to support their needs, in constant contact with their families, trying new strategies each day to keep one from throwing pencils all over the room or destroy our things, and the other from shouting at the top of his lungs. Thare are tiny triumphs and often horrible failures, where I can't help but wonder if these students would flourish in someone else's class who has better management, better engagement, better everything. I know that these are students with needs that I am not necessarily trained to deal with, but I feel awful knowing I am misserving them and that this environment is not the least restrictive one for them. It is endlessly frustrating when I feel my classroom is floating away from me--I see the other students trying hard to stay with me, but it's hard when children are shouting at us to shut up and stop doing too much while we are trying to blend words, or students who snatch pencils and throw them and turn the computer up full volume in the middle of a mini-lesson to turn the attention away from what we're doing to them. I'm trying to remain positive, but I am exhausted and flabbergasted. I'm amazed that my students are coping as well as they are, but I feel like I should be doing so much more...
Outside of school, Halloween happened which was lovely. Two parties and a cookie-decorating gathering (which may or may not have involved rum-infused cider on a WEDNESDAY...), and a themed Trivia night made for a great week outside of school.
October is over, now on to November... already planning how I will be addressing Thanksgiving in my classroom. Last year I told the "true" story of Thanksgiving, focusing on the experience of the Native Americans. This year I think I will go more into the lives of the Native Americans and their importance in helping the pilgrims acclimate to the new environment.
With that, off to drink fall-ish beer, eat something hearty, in far-too-warm temperatures for November 3rd.
"Ms. Estrada, your dad is brown. And you are white." My dad came in a couple days before Halloween with an Elephant and Piggie-carved pumpkin. I think my students died of excitement. And MR noticed the difference between my dad's rich cocoa skin and my more milky blend of tan and white. We discussed my mom's skin, my dad's skin, and my skin. I loved every moment of it. I think discussing race and facilitating a classroom where students feel safe to share their observations and to talk about them critically is extraordinarily important. In first grade, skin color is a great place to start.
"Ms. Estrada... I was just thinking about what would happen if my brain got up and walked into a sleeping body and that person started acting like me. What if our brains all switched?" So smart.
"Ms. Estrada it just emptied my heart when he wasn't listening to your words." "Yeah, my heart just exploded into itty bitty tiny baby pieces. They're on the floor. Want to pick them up Ms. E?" Oh, lord. I don't even have words. This quote and the last are by the same lovely little pixie.
After having NS hold my coffee as we walked in line, he smells it, looks at me, and says "Teacher, this be decaf?" I die, then tell him "No, I want my coffee to wake me up!"
Same student, different day, as I'm reading Horrible Harry and describing what a bun is since Harry loves when Song Lee wears a bun in her hair, NS shouts out "Ms. Estrada, I know what a bun is! Sock buns are the best. They're prettyyyy." What 7 year old boy knows about a sock bun?
Annnd my personal favorite...yesterday we began Mindfulness, where a trained facilitator of Mindfulness in the Classroom comes in and helps students find their anchor point and practice calming their body, using a bell and various techniques. It was incredible! After sitting and listening to the quiet and noticing the sounds around us and inside us, DD raises her hand to tell the instructor she heard something inside her body. "I heard 'Would you like to have a tea party?'" And he just nods calmly and says, straight-faced "Sometimes we hear thoughts in our head." I was sitting still with the kids, but had to walk away from the rug and turn away to laugh as quietly as I could to myself. SO good.
It's nice to remember the good things going on. I have a couple students who have been through extreme and traumatic circumstances in their lives, and as a result, really struggle in the classroom. I am doing all I can to support their needs, in constant contact with their families, trying new strategies each day to keep one from throwing pencils all over the room or destroy our things, and the other from shouting at the top of his lungs. Thare are tiny triumphs and often horrible failures, where I can't help but wonder if these students would flourish in someone else's class who has better management, better engagement, better everything. I know that these are students with needs that I am not necessarily trained to deal with, but I feel awful knowing I am misserving them and that this environment is not the least restrictive one for them. It is endlessly frustrating when I feel my classroom is floating away from me--I see the other students trying hard to stay with me, but it's hard when children are shouting at us to shut up and stop doing too much while we are trying to blend words, or students who snatch pencils and throw them and turn the computer up full volume in the middle of a mini-lesson to turn the attention away from what we're doing to them. I'm trying to remain positive, but I am exhausted and flabbergasted. I'm amazed that my students are coping as well as they are, but I feel like I should be doing so much more...
Outside of school, Halloween happened which was lovely. Two parties and a cookie-decorating gathering (which may or may not have involved rum-infused cider on a WEDNESDAY...), and a themed Trivia night made for a great week outside of school.
October is over, now on to November... already planning how I will be addressing Thanksgiving in my classroom. Last year I told the "true" story of Thanksgiving, focusing on the experience of the Native Americans. This year I think I will go more into the lives of the Native Americans and their importance in helping the pilgrims acclimate to the new environment.
With that, off to drink fall-ish beer, eat something hearty, in far-too-warm temperatures for November 3rd.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Octoberness
I love October. The crispness in the air welcomes warm, delicious coffee and fall-inspired brews. There are festivals galore here in the East Bay, baseball playoffs commence, apple-filled desserts and drinks, and Guided Reading begins. We haven't officially begun here in Week 7 (I've been finishing Beginning of Year assessments...yipes) but at least I'm pulling kids with (almost) no one interrupting me! Today I assigned workstation "experts" to help others. The listening station crew took their job very seriously and couldn't figure out a non-functioning tape for the life of them...but refused to ask for my help because I was invisible. HALLELUJAHHHH!
I am loving my students. They are forming a sort of family at this point, sticking up for one another (and, yes, tattling on one another...time to break out the tattle tricks...getting them to go tell Elephant and Piggie their problems instead of me.) I've filled our kindness bucket three times already, and the students continue to impress me with their kind words. I was met after Art prep with "I missed you!" today (it was 50 minutes, people). We are not without our problems...I had a student suspended for being extraordinarily disrespectful (telling me to shut up, refusing to leave the classroom to take a break when asked, throwing folders and kicking tables, etc.) I also have lots of friends who need intensive small and gross motor work.
Our room has become inundated with fall workstations and activities...enjoying this joyful time of year when things (dare I say it?) are beginning to come together.
I am loving my students. They are forming a sort of family at this point, sticking up for one another (and, yes, tattling on one another...time to break out the tattle tricks...getting them to go tell Elephant and Piggie their problems instead of me.) I've filled our kindness bucket three times already, and the students continue to impress me with their kind words. I was met after Art prep with "I missed you!" today (it was 50 minutes, people). We are not without our problems...I had a student suspended for being extraordinarily disrespectful (telling me to shut up, refusing to leave the classroom to take a break when asked, throwing folders and kicking tables, etc.) I also have lots of friends who need intensive small and gross motor work.
Our room has become inundated with fall workstations and activities...enjoying this joyful time of year when things (dare I say it?) are beginning to come together.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
We will get there.
I have cried not once, but two times in the past two weeks AT SCHOOL. Not in front of the children, thank goodness, but in front of my incredible colleagues. I am in Year 3 and I feel that I am striving for 100% engagement, a seamless classroom where children don't tap on the desks or wiggle the pencil holders. A classroom where students don't begin whistling in succession after I ask them to stop. I went to observe some of my amazing coworkers' classrooms, and I had this sinking feeling that I am SO FAR behind in management. So far behind. And yet...my students sit criss cross applesauce, rarely shout out, and raise their hands to tell me things. We are getting better at turning and talking, we say chants and songs all the time, and scouts are looking for kids who are "doing a great job on the rug" and give specific feedback to students on the rug. My transitions are still wiggly, the end of the day is not perfect, but as David is always reminding me...the kids are learning.
It won't be perfect and I am by no means perfect, but I need to remember that it takes years and years to feel confident...and I have a long way to go with management, but I am so excited with all the new engagement strategies I've been using and our bucket filled with sparkly hearts because of all the kind words my students have been sharing with eachother.
We will get there.
It won't be perfect and I am by no means perfect, but I need to remember that it takes years and years to feel confident...and I have a long way to go with management, but I am so excited with all the new engagement strategies I've been using and our bucket filled with sparkly hearts because of all the kind words my students have been sharing with eachother.
We will get there.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Superwoman
I'm sure we all would LOVE to be superwoman or superman in our classrooms and in our lives. I want to be the best at what I do, that beloved teacher who differentiates, creates, and celebrates. I am nowhere NEAR that teacher, and every day I'm reminded why....
My students talk back to me. One told me to "sh" the other day. Superwoman would know what to do. I don't. I just pretend in the moment that I do.
My students take things from the classroom and lie about it. Superwoman's students don't do that.
My students get bored. They whine. They roll on the rug and make loud, rude noises on purpose. They whistle after I ask them to stop.
Superwoman is organized. She doesn't forget to hand out homework or call back a Mom or Dad.
Superwoman doesn't have beer on a school night, or take naps after work, or forget to schedule wedding dress appointments or consultations about the venue.
Superwoman sticks to her 10k workout schedule, doesn't forget what the sight words for the week are supposed to be, or procrastinate testing the rest of her kids because it takes so much time after school.
Superwoman has it figured out, I don't, and I'm tired. I wish I was more organized, more patient, more creative, more savvy.
Until then I'll just keep on keepin' on, strive for better, and work through the days when I feel unsuccessful and underwhelmed with myself.
My students talk back to me. One told me to "sh" the other day. Superwoman would know what to do. I don't. I just pretend in the moment that I do.
My students take things from the classroom and lie about it. Superwoman's students don't do that.
My students get bored. They whine. They roll on the rug and make loud, rude noises on purpose. They whistle after I ask them to stop.
Superwoman is organized. She doesn't forget to hand out homework or call back a Mom or Dad.
Superwoman doesn't have beer on a school night, or take naps after work, or forget to schedule wedding dress appointments or consultations about the venue.
Superwoman sticks to her 10k workout schedule, doesn't forget what the sight words for the week are supposed to be, or procrastinate testing the rest of her kids because it takes so much time after school.
Superwoman has it figured out, I don't, and I'm tired. I wish I was more organized, more patient, more creative, more savvy.
Until then I'll just keep on keepin' on, strive for better, and work through the days when I feel unsuccessful and underwhelmed with myself.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
"What if I don't agree with our rules? Do I have to sign them?"
First graders are cray CRAY. In the best possible way. But who else would jump on eachother's backs at lunch, compare pencil length for 5 minutes before getting started on their work, or hide in corners to share hot cheetos and takis and then tell the assistant principal they didn't eat them even though they had fiery powder all over their fingers?
Oh, my students. I was feeling exhausted Friday and didn't take the time to celebrate their successes. Like, how they're already working for 13 minutes at a time quietly and independently. My classroom is much much quieter than it has ever been. We created rules this week: Be kind, be safe, work hard, and have fun. G asked me when we were signing our rules if he had to sign because he didn't agree with working hard. Oh, dear. "Yes, you still need to sign it, because we're going to learn how to work hard to go to college." "Okay, Ms. Estrada."
I have a couple students with severe social and emotional needs (not as much as in the past), but I'm super excited for Seneca to start working with those muffins to get them what they need. At this point, I'm not sure exactly what will work for them (wandering around the room, sleeping constantly, defiance, etc.) I know my interactions with them cannot be overly stern or emotion-ridden, yet I'm trying to figure out how to communicate strict boundaries for them.
We have our first long day on Monday--8 to 2:45. I'm a little nervous about what that's going to look like. I know my students will get tired, and we'll need lots of energizers and breaks, and I'll need to keep my frustrating at their five-year-old-ness in check. Ready for a weekend of resting, Catan, and baby showers!
Oh, my students. I was feeling exhausted Friday and didn't take the time to celebrate their successes. Like, how they're already working for 13 minutes at a time quietly and independently. My classroom is much much quieter than it has ever been. We created rules this week: Be kind, be safe, work hard, and have fun. G asked me when we were signing our rules if he had to sign because he didn't agree with working hard. Oh, dear. "Yes, you still need to sign it, because we're going to learn how to work hard to go to college." "Okay, Ms. Estrada."
I have a couple students with severe social and emotional needs (not as much as in the past), but I'm super excited for Seneca to start working with those muffins to get them what they need. At this point, I'm not sure exactly what will work for them (wandering around the room, sleeping constantly, defiance, etc.) I know my interactions with them cannot be overly stern or emotion-ridden, yet I'm trying to figure out how to communicate strict boundaries for them.
We have our first long day on Monday--8 to 2:45. I'm a little nervous about what that's going to look like. I know my students will get tired, and we'll need lots of energizers and breaks, and I'll need to keep my frustrating at their five-year-old-ness in check. Ready for a weekend of resting, Catan, and baby showers!
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Hello, Year 3.
This mantra has been running through my head the past two weeks: "I just want to be a good teacher." I want to be firm but loving, understanding, compassionate, and strict. I strive to be better than years before, more organized, make stronger relationships with families, speak fluently and easily in Spanish with the parents, learn Mien so I can communicate with cutie C's mom, and shower my two toughest behavior issues with unconditional love and support. I aim to differentiate, conference, and interactively model my face off. I've read the Responsive Classroom guidebook at least 4 times cover to cover, and still I look for more games and energizers to fill these beginning of year first graders with positive experiences at school.
But I yelled today. I pulled out my ultra-stern "ExCUSE ME" in the hallway with two classes. I saw the looks that passed over kids' faces. "Oooh, Ms. Estrada YELLS," they seemed to say. There was that disappointed but also shocked look that emerged, and then fixing their line immediately. It's been one week and one day, people. I was tired and cranky and tired of positive reinforcing up-the-wazoo how to stand in a straight line. Tomorrow, I will remember to be gentle and to positively reinforce while also being firm with children who are acting cray cray at the back of the line, turning circles, playing tag, etc. I WILL smile throughout the day, and I will be gentle but firm in my reminders to stop TALKING WHILE I'M TEACHING OR OTHERS ARE TALKING. YEESH. I will be patient, I will be patient, I will be patient.
What I really want to do is craft with them all day. Learn how to talk to one another. Play games. Cook food. Plant a garden. Make mistakes and learn from them, without the pressures of finishing this or that assessment on time, taking away recess time, or walking in a perfect silent line. But on the other hand, our children and all children DESERVE literacy. So I will assess, I will look at data, I will meet with my guided reading groups and stress over scores and DRA until the words "Close the book and tell me about the story" show up in bold print in my dreams. I will kiss their owies, sprinkle quiet dust and pretend wake up dust on their heads, open up wrapped class books as rewards for kindness, and sing everyone's names and redirections to bring something new to this classroom and education. I have already fallen in love with my class, but feel like I'm doing them somehow wrong by being so picky, so irritable, so HUMAN.
I want to be like Ms. Honey or the seemingly flawless authors of teacher blogs who have time to do Art everyday, utilize best practices, AND make money by posting lessons. I will continue to misstep, like my students, and can only hope to do right by them. I know there will be days where I question once again what I'm doing here-- why did I ever think I could do this? And then there will be days when I walk into the room and can't imagine doing anything else...and I will survive, and they will survive, and we'll learn together how to make this work.
Hello, Year 3.
But I yelled today. I pulled out my ultra-stern "ExCUSE ME" in the hallway with two classes. I saw the looks that passed over kids' faces. "Oooh, Ms. Estrada YELLS," they seemed to say. There was that disappointed but also shocked look that emerged, and then fixing their line immediately. It's been one week and one day, people. I was tired and cranky and tired of positive reinforcing up-the-wazoo how to stand in a straight line. Tomorrow, I will remember to be gentle and to positively reinforce while also being firm with children who are acting cray cray at the back of the line, turning circles, playing tag, etc. I WILL smile throughout the day, and I will be gentle but firm in my reminders to stop TALKING WHILE I'M TEACHING OR OTHERS ARE TALKING. YEESH. I will be patient, I will be patient, I will be patient.
What I really want to do is craft with them all day. Learn how to talk to one another. Play games. Cook food. Plant a garden. Make mistakes and learn from them, without the pressures of finishing this or that assessment on time, taking away recess time, or walking in a perfect silent line. But on the other hand, our children and all children DESERVE literacy. So I will assess, I will look at data, I will meet with my guided reading groups and stress over scores and DRA until the words "Close the book and tell me about the story" show up in bold print in my dreams. I will kiss their owies, sprinkle quiet dust and pretend wake up dust on their heads, open up wrapped class books as rewards for kindness, and sing everyone's names and redirections to bring something new to this classroom and education. I have already fallen in love with my class, but feel like I'm doing them somehow wrong by being so picky, so irritable, so HUMAN.
I want to be like Ms. Honey or the seemingly flawless authors of teacher blogs who have time to do Art everyday, utilize best practices, AND make money by posting lessons. I will continue to misstep, like my students, and can only hope to do right by them. I know there will be days where I question once again what I'm doing here-- why did I ever think I could do this? And then there will be days when I walk into the room and can't imagine doing anything else...and I will survive, and they will survive, and we'll learn together how to make this work.
Hello, Year 3.
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