TGIAM

Thank God It's Almost Monday :)

I have a new team member this year. Another brain to pick, cry to rally around, and shoulder to lean against. She teaches my students Math, and respect. I teach her students reading, and sarcasm. She teaches me tricks of the trade from an efficient, caring and confrontational viewpoint. I teach her that puppy like energy and quasi-competence can seem ALMOST like a strength when it refuses to quit.

She told me early in the year that I need to toughen up most of the time. I nodded. Because I couldn't bring myself to say that I wasn't consistent enough to be strict- because I wasn't sure what they were to look like when they were behaving. How could I expect the to behave when I really wasn't sure what that looked like?! Was it silently working at their desks all the time? That didn't seem to capture the beauty and power of being 11. Was it to be reading all the time? How could I expect that if they weren't able to read? Was it to learn from all the mistakes I have made, feel the caring pouring from my tired eyes and dorky jokes, and then just behave? Well, yes- that is what I wanted but I didn't have a vision.

She continued on as she saw my nod and told me that the most important moment of the week was Friday afternoon. You needed to show your kids that you loved them right before they left. You could be strict, harsh, biting, and driving all week; As long as on Friday you let them see the side of you that speaks a language of Love that they understand. They will return on Monday, tired and drudging, but relieved to have a structure and a second family- and somewhere primal and deep inside excited to be able to become better than they have ever been: Stronger, Faster, Smarter.

This is harder than it looks. The kids can smell the weekend like Sharks smell blood- if it is within a mile of where they are they start priming up for going berserk, and are already transforming during the last hour of the day. This does not make it easy for me to show my love with anything other than tired yelling and frowns trying to contain the avalanche of energy that is pushing on the classroom door.

Except yesterday. Yesterday, we achieved it. We learned until there were 20 minutes left, then they packed up, we shared a read aloud, and then as we walked outside we talked and made plans for tutorials, extra learning, and next week. These conversations switched easily to talks of video games, cute boys, annoying girls (note- when puberty hits the respective genders). Then as we stood by the tree waiting for parents, grandparents, girl friends, and older brothers I had two conversations with mothers and we all left the week ready to come back to our school family on Monday.

Once I am good at this regularly, I don't even think the long hours will bother me. But for now, it is Saturday morning, I am outside planning at a coffee shop because I finally know what my classroom needs to look like, and I know why it needs to look like that: Because I really do Love these kids. And despite the fact that they aren't my last year kids, can't seem to believe that this is the most important year of their life so far, do way less work than they should, and talk more than is reasonable even by my Dolezal standards. I finally know where we need to go, and I am going to show them with baby steps until everyone of them is learning and understanding that learning should drive their every waking moment. NOT be something they are forced to 8 hours a day because they have to.

First, we will learn to walk together-
then they will discover
that their brains are actually wings
And some of them will believe.

By May look to the sky
to find my kids
because they are
hope for the future
and that's the only place to look
for such things.

Hope
holds us aloft like wax,
and we must believe that
all children can fly
or they shall miss their course
and we will melt their wings
with apathy
and the world will keep spinning
as they sink into the waves
unseen.

Finally willing to open his eyes and run:

There are two kinds of darkness:

Sometimes darkness is suffocating.
Because each thing we can’t see
We can’t count as a friend
And the world seems a lot smaller
When one can’t see the dangers.

The infinite space
Of loneliness crushes the air out
from forced smiles in gasps.

Finally my smiles are coming slightly less forces. After an oppressively disappointing start to the school year: 7 weeks of school, 1 hurricane, 2 new starts, 4 restructurings of my classroom, 12 special need students which I have no idea to need, 6 two time retainees, and far too many personal mistakes to count- I am starting to finally have a vision for my classroom.

Just stepping into the light from a rough start to the year- keeping my chin up, reading great books (Everything and Anything by Jerry Spinnelli). I thought the second year would be easier: I never thought I would ever say that I miss the first year of teaching. And I am sure that if I could time travel and the one-year-ago me was standing right next to me, he would punch me in the nose.

But, I am finally making positive gains from my first year. I can finally see the obstacles between my kids and their success. Maybe my smile won't be so forced anymore. Bring on the dawn!

Success is Mandatory:

A moment away from my classroom:

There is something truly joyful about seeing one of your heroes playing Big Buck Hunter right next to you at a bar. A couple weeks ago I got to see Atmosphere perform in Houston and before the show we were catching dinner and we saw Ant, the DJ, and the touring keyboarder playing my favorite bar video game.

Next I want to see Obama playing Skee-Ball.


ps- for those who are wondering- the keyboarder was much better than Ant.