Mistakes are Steps Toward Learning

It was February of 2011...

When You Need a Home Run and all you get is first base.  It was a good lesson, but what I needed was amazing.  Last Friday I was observed by the big dog, an important observation for my reapplication next year (as I am on temporary status).  Three things I took from this experience: first, teaching is about connecting with students, second, stay true to your theories of teaching no matter how difficult your situation makes it, and third, how important context is in education.

The lesson: 3rd Grade Order of Operations (keep in mind that we have 60 students)
Anticipatory set: I activated prior knowledge and connected to students' experience by using a narrative advance organizer.  I drew 6 pictures depicting three directions: pour, shake, and open and orange juice bottle.  I then discussed that sometimes order is important in directions.  Then I showed the different outcomes for changing the order of these instructions.  I then asked kids to come up with the right order.  I then introduced order of operations.

Next, we made a flip booklet on which we numbered 1. Parentheses, 2. Multiply/Divide, 3. Add/Subtract.  Under the flap we put the signs of the operations, an example and "left to right."  I then modeled how to use the tool, and students practiced how to use the tool with some guided practice on their whiteboards.  I had a worksheet to practice further, but my cooperating teacher suggested that just practicing on the whiteboard would be more effective.

The critique:

Although he thought the metaphor was very effective and the kids understood the concept, I've got to move faster.  There is just too much curriculum to cover to spend so much time waiting for everyone to get it.  So and so were drawing on their whiteboards under their desks.  He commended me on checking in on the success of so many students.

Today:

This was my first taste of the bias in the system.  What he was saying: the ones who are privileged enough to access the curriculum from the standard entryways will get it, the others may catch on eventually, or maybe not... but who cares, move on.

Even today, as I look back at this draft post from 2011 I still feel the chains of the system.  I find many creative ways to improvise and adjust, but regardless we are still pulled forward through the years of curriculum, regardless of the abilities or prior knowledge of our students.  Are students are pushed through as well.

If you are wondering, I did not get the next year's opening.  Besides being green and needing improvement in many areas, the principal and I did not agree in many fundamental areas.  He told me I have "unshakeable patience" and should be in special education.  Which I very much considered, but decided it was not the right choice for me -- God bless special educators.  On the bright side, I got hired at the perfect position for me the next fall: a 4/5 blend in Southern Oregon.

I have a confession

Here it is: My line is not silent.  Maybe you students are blessed with someone to talk to.  Someone to tell their stories to.  And maybe their weekends aren't filled with stress and uncertainty.  At our school many of our students aren't so lucky.  The problem is, we have SERIOUS learning to do.  For these kids could not afford preschool and many of their parents did not read to them, and when they come to school their minds are only half focused on learning.  So we talk in line.  Of course I teach them about being quiet and respectful to other classes, but without fail I am ALWAYS talking to a student about his/her weekend/worries/excitement/questions/dreams...etc.  Yes we get sideways glances from staff.  But here's my opinion: when did you, as an adult, ever walk in a single-file line, silently going from one place to another?  Others are amazed when our sometimes blobby line composes itself to become restricted to the right side of the walkway to make room for passersby, not because they were trained to walk in a line, but because they were trained to pay attention to the needs of others. 

I'm back

It's been almost 2 years since my last post.  I've truly missed my blog and I've made it my goal to return to posting weekly.  A lot has changed since my debut on this blog.  I have an amazing five-year-old boy who is full of spunk and endless energy.  Subsequently, I was diagnosed with Lupus in his first year of life.  It was a truly horrendous, miraculous, and life-altering experience.  Now I am managing my symptoms and living a full life.  Though that shadow is always there, I refuse to let it control me or hold me back.  Throughout this 4 year battle I thought I was broken, never to be a functioning human being again.  Then, after two soul-crushing Rheumatologists later, I found Dr. Rudy Green, and he helped me find my way back to health.  I'm happy to say months later we had a beautiful baby girl.  Our miracle we thought for a time we'd never have.
Yep, I woke up next to a beautiful little 7-month-old ball of warmth who has reverted back to waking up for night feedings.  This morning I even found spit-up crusted into my Fit Bit.  I couldn't be happier.
During the darkest hour of sickness I found out so much about health, the food industry, fitness, parenting, big pharma (as they call it), doctors and their training, meditation, myself, and more.  It has really been a transformation.  I am a different person now.  Stronger, more resilient, more aware.  And for that, I am thankful.  (Do I want to go back to the pain... Hell no.)
Yes, I am thankful for the days I fell asleep in my car in the driveway when I got home from work because I didn't have the energy to walk to the house.  The days when my husband had to put my socks on for me.  Thankful for all the well-wishers who were checking to see if I was ok (because it took me soooo long to limp from my car to my classroom), which touched my heart and broke my pride.  (Everyone needs their pride broken now and again).  So here I am, transformed.  Like a phoenix from the ashes.  And thusly, I will be dividing this blog into three areas:

Stories from the darkness: My battles with Lupus
Teaching: aptly named
Rising: lessons of life, parenting, health, and love