First Semester = Survived!

Do you ever look around at your life and think "WOW! This is really happening!" I have these kinds of revelations often. Sometimes they are bad, like when I was rear-ended waiting to turn my senior year of high school. Sometimes these moments are good, like when I realized I was absolutely and completely in love with my soon-to-be husband five years ago.

This week at school I had one of those moments. Wednesday was the last day of school before final exams and the long-awaited Winter break. We had a vocabulary test. Yes, my co-teacher and I are THOSE kind of teachers; the kind who assign work every second of every day...the kind who expect nothing less than the absolute best effort from every student, however different they may be. For the record, we expect the very best from our co-workers also, but that's another entry.

Now, in no way am I implying that this happens all the time, but most students have risen to the occasion. I try very hard to steer clear of the teachers who breed negativity, especially when it's about students...children. I'm not going to lie, I do not like every one of my students. BUT I DO my best to love them...even when they are most unlovable. As an educator, it is nearly impossible not to claim every student in your class as your child, your baby...even though the students I teach are most certainly not babies. The students in our class range in age from 12 to 14 (I even have a couple 15 year olds). So far no one has protested to being called "my baby."

Wednesday, as the students were taking their test, I was reading...something I rarely get a chance to do. Yes, the paperwork was piling up on my desk and I probably should have been preparing for something, but I decided it was a unique opportunity to read. Side story: I've been enrolled in the Accelerated Reader program at school and my taking tests has kick started some students to read and the one who are already the top readers read even more. We don't count books read or points, but instead we count words. By the end of the year the goal of 1,000,000 words is supposed to be met by every student. At this point, I have read over 670,000 words. There is only one student who has a higher word count on my team. So I am reading two novels to catch up with him.

Anyway, I looked up from my reading to monitor the students. I smiled as I saw the children's furrowed brows deep in concentration. I giggled out loud as I saw the students who had finished buried deep in their books. I laughed even louder when I spied the boy who absolutely refuses to wear his new glasses with his face so close to the paper, he could count the fibers that held it together. That's the same student who would give ANYTHING for his friends to never find out he even has glasses, so I don't pester him about it.

As I looked around, I couldn't keep my smile from growing, because sitting before I saw all my children (haha) deep in thought, and genuinely concerned about the test. These are the same children who will give me the hardest time in class and refuse to stay focused. These young adolescents are the reason I am here. I don't need to change their lives, I just have to teach them and what they get out of it is their decision. But despite what they will say to me, they DO care.

I have now made it through my first semester as a REAL teacher. I am so amazed and proud of myself. And I still love it. Again, I don't like every day, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Reason #347 why I love...

So it has been almost two months since my last post. Whoa. This is what I woke up to this morning when I logged on to Facebook:

Hey you.
I miss your blog. It was awesome and wise and made me feel happy inside. So, this is your I-think-you-should-write-more-posts-because-you-rock-at-it-but-you-are-forbidden-from-feeling-guilty-about-not-writing-because-I-know-you-have-been-doing-amazing-fantabulous-things-for-your-students-instead-and-that-is-nothing-to-feel-guilty-about request to stick with it. :)

That was from my dear friend and educational supporter, Tori (or Torini, as I prefer to call her).

So, hear I am writing again. It has been a long, tough two months, I'm not going to lie. I have cried on many rides home from school; I have yet to cry AT school however.

I am struggling the most with motivating my students. I am finding that the second thing I am struggling with is lack of effort on the students' part.

Way back when I was in college (HA!) I had a very wise and special professor change my entire educational philosophy when she uttered the phrase, "Never do for children what they can do for themselves." I fully believe and stand by that statement now. However, it is becoming increasingly difficult to tolerate when certain "powers that be" hand down mandates and schedules and paperwork that prevent me from teaching the real life lessons behind the students' forgetting their homework and NOT being allowed to make it up, or NOT being allowed to go disturb another teacher's classroom and dig around in the bottom of their locker only to realize they left it at home.

The students fail to realize that their success starts with their effort. I cannot GIVE grades to students, they must earn them. It is utterly exhausting hearing excuse after excuse.

On the other hand, there is one student who never ceases to amaze me (many of the students amaze me every day, but for this purpose, I'll focus on one). I've started keeping a tally of all the ways I love her and all the things she does naturally that put her above and beyond any expectations my co-teacher and I could ever set for her. She always has a smile on her face and wise word to say. She is fearless and is always eager to participate or run any errand. She is mature beyond her years and the kind of girl I see being very popular with the fellows very soon, once they realize what she's worth. Not like she needs that kind of attention anyway. She oozes positivity and restores our sanity right when it's needed. She struggles academically sometimes, but never accepts less than her best.

Yesterday was a crazy day. The students were all wound up about something and to make it even better, we had a vocabulary quiz in class that many of them openly expressed they didn't study for and didn't care either. Frustrating. The night before we had assigned a simple homework task: Explain "how-to writing" in your own words and give one example. Since yesterday was so crazy, I didn't get a chance to explain the homework or even make sure that every one knew to do it. However, it WAS written on the homework board where their homework is posted every day. I halfway forgot about this morning when I walked into the classroom and had it ready to discuss for the mini-lesson instead. Our special girl walked in and handed me two pages answering the questions that were posted. I just smiled, said thank you, handed the pages to my co-teacher and simply said, "Reason number 347."

I guess what I need to do is start recognizing "reasons I love..." for each student, regardless of how frustrating they are. However, I also need to realize that I'm not going to win over every student and some students need far more attention than I am able to give them in one 55 minute class period a day. Thus is the unique plight of a seventh grade teacher. Sigh.

Word of the profession: flexibility

Yes, the word of the profession of teaching is flexibility. I've had to be flexible on many occasions in my short career so far.

I was flexible when I was told students would be pulled out of class when textbooks were being assigned through the library. I missed a class period's worth of valuable instruction time with my students. What I lost in classroom time, I gained in extra time elsewhere, seeing as how the dreadful task of assigning textbooks was taken off of me.

I was flexible when the fire drill came at the worst possible time, as I foresee it will come in the future, also. I will be flexible then.

I was flexible when the LCD projector in my classroom died just as I was beginning the day's classes. Thank goodness for giant Post-it Notes (aka chart paper) and Crayola magic markers; ingenuity at its best.

I was flexible when I had planned a day of computer testing so I could find out the students' reading levels (which I was required to do, also) and picture day interrupted the whole thing.

Most importantly, I was flexible when I looked around the room during my lesson on characterization in short stories today and realized that it was not clicking and no lightbulbs were turning on during the activity. At the end of the day, I sat down with my co-teacher and we revamped everything we had planned to do tomorrow, including shortening the quiz from plot elements and characterization to just plot elements. It just doesn't make sense to keep going with a failing lesson or activity. It's easy for me to put my own ego aside and figure out what is best for the students. I am always learning. I want to model this kind of flexibility for the students. If they are in a situation and their intended plans aren't working, they should be able to recognize it and reevaluate when needed.

I am not the almighty teacher who knows everything and exactly how to teach it to her students. I have 83 students, and I swear they learn in 83 different ways. I would be crazy to think I didn't have to flexible to keep up with them.

Wow. Tomorrow is the twelfth day of school. Wow.

It has been a doozy, that's for sure. But I am still absolutely in love with it!

I am truly living the dream. I am teaching. This is something I've been working towards for quite some time, so it truly is amazing.

I have 83 students (and I'm actually losing three of those students to the gifted classes, about which I am excited for them and sad that they're leaving at the same time). I have one class with 22 students, only four of which are girls. Needless to say, it takes me quite a while to focus that class.

I am the only first-year teacher in the entire school. That's fun.

However, my students this year do not, and will not, know that. It does not make me any less of a teacher and allows me to find my ground and hit my stride without worrying.

The students amaze me in many ways every day. One boy gave me the rundown of what I had worn to school every day since the first day, shoes, jewelry and all. Woah. One girl was inspired to write poetry because of a first day of school poem I wrote and shared with the classes. One boy has asked me every day if I'm coming to the first football game. I have assured him every day that I am indeed coming.

I was offered the Assistant Cheerleading Coach positon, only to realize that I didn't need to take the offer, because teaching is my first job and I want to get out of survival mode before I take on extra work like that.

There is a senior Georgia College cohort student placed in the 8th grade with the students I had last year during my student teaching. She shares little tidbits of information and fun stories about them with me daily. It's a nice pick-me-up. The other day we were walking in the hallway and passed by my former babies. The senior student teacher said one of the kids said, "Look at Ms. Herring! She's such a real teacher. She looks so professional!"

I am slowly building a relationship with each student, which is an integral part of my teaching philosophy.

Things are slowly coming together. I am loving it! Some days are great! Some days not so much. It's about learning to love it anyway.

Making the Transition

OK, so obviously I'm going to need to sharpen my skills when it comes to keeping up with my blog. This is a goal for my first year. I've wanted to write a blog for many years and have lacked the focus I though it needed. Now that I have a primary focus, I must make the serious effort to keep it going. I have followers; this is important.

Last Wednesday, I arrived at the Board of Education office at 8:15 am to experience my first taste of the teaching career I have chosen. I eagerly walked in to the boardroom with a sparkling smile on my face. It felt like the first day of school. Everyone was seated by themselves and not talking to those around them. I recognized a man I knew from my days as office assistant as University Housing in college, and proceeded to sit next to him. Upon further investigation, I discovered he would teaching 11th and 12th grades English at the high school in the county. He is also a first-year teacher.

The time came and the orientation officially began. Topics covered included ethics, assessment, state-mandated testing, sexual harrassment, e-mail, and dress code. And since I've brought up the subject of dress code, let me say I was simply appalled at the clothing these new teachers decided to wear. There were Old Navy flip-flops, tank tops, gym shorts, tennis shoes, and deep v-neck shirts. There were a number of Georgia College and State University John H. Lounsbury College of Education graduates present who were, like me, beginning their teaching career that day. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw how they were dressed as compared to the others in the room; shirts and ties, closed-toe shoes, suits, cardigans, and tops that covered everything. I feel most confident when I am dressed professionally in a professional situation. I was wearing a white, black, and red skirt with a simple black top, minimal jewelry, simple shoes, and that winning sparkly smile I mentioned earlier. This was my chance to make a memorable first impression on many people. Many of these people I have met before and interacted with in several avenues during my student teaching in the county; however, this was my chance to make a new impression on them not as Ms. Herring, student teacher, but Ms. Herring, educator and professional.

After our information meetings, we made our way to lunch where we were supposed to dine with our principals and mentor teachers. As I walked into the lunchroom, I noticed that the principals were sitting at one table, and I was never informed of who my mentor teacher would be. Did they think I didn't need one since I had been at the school, in the grade level and subject the year before? Or did they think I didn't need an assigned mentor teacher because I was working in an inclusive classroom with another, more-experienced teacher? I didn't know and I haven't had a chance to ask. However, I have been utilizing many teachers in my grade and on my hallway as resources for anything from where I can get a desk with drawers to how can I get my Promethean board connected to my computer. They have all been extremely supportive.

My first official day of pre-planning, last Thursday, was overwhelming and definitely information overloaded, I'll be honest. I drove home admist tears overflowing from my eyes. I found relief in a nap upon arriving home. Friday was much, much better, in every sense. I attended a new teachers meeting with the principals, where I discovered I was the only first-year teacher in the entire school; this was both scary and exciting at the same time. I was also the only new teacher present at the meeting who had previously had experience in the school and the county system.

I have slowly begun to make the transition from student teacher to educator. I am feeling more and more professional every day. This is feeling more and more real every day.

Tomorrow is Open House. I finally get to meet my kids for the year, and maybe more importantly, their parents and guardians. Slowly my room has come together but it still needs some work.

This year is going to be a year of trial and error; trial and adjustment, really. I am living the dream. This is a dream ten years in the making. I am teaching the very grade level where ten years ago I decided I wanted to teach middle school. This is an awe-inspiring moment for me, and I hope this feeling continues.

The Longest Day of My Life

I start work tomorrow.

I am officially a new teacher tomorrow.

I get a school email and keys to my classroom.

I get a spiffy nametag that will say "Ms. Herring" on it (without the John H. Lounsbury College of Education logo).

My dental plan kicks in tomorrow.

This is crazy. Today is the longest day of my life, or that's how it feels at least. I wish I could get a handle on my emotions right now. I'm up then I'm down.

I'm literally all over the place; running around my apartment trying to get all my things together for my new year. I have so many books. SO MANY BOOKS! Books for me as a teacher, books for my students. It's becoming a problem.

Tomorrow at 8:30 am, I start New Teacher Orientation. I've been trying to get someone to help me pick out the perfect outfit for days, but it just doesn't seem to be working.

I am terrified and excited. The math teacher on my team is hosting a senior middle grades cohort student from my college. In fact I know the new student teacher quite well; this should be interesting.

I have been trying to enjoy my last day of summer vacation, but my excitement is getting the best of me.

Last week I met my co-teacher. This is going to be a great year.

My best friend is a 4th grade teacher in the Atlanta area. We are already working on ways to integrate our classrooms. Yes, you can connect 7th and 4th graders.

I am so scattered right now and I apologize. There are two women I know who are going into their second year as teachers (they were members of the senior middle grades cohort, MAGIC, when I was a junior in FRESH...JHLCOE grads will understand the references). They have given me countless pieces of advice and have showered me with compliments and prayers. I know the first year of teaching is going to be crazy but I'm going to do my best to make it crazy fun, also. I have an incredibly strong support system going into this and I am extremely blessed to be at this point in my life...finally.

Now it's finally time to create my new life in the middle.

I've Got My Big Girl Panties On, So I'll Just Deal With It

Last week I experienced several big moments in my newly-forming career in education. Tuesday night I met with my co-teacher and her husband at a sushi restaurant in downtown Milledgeville. We laughed and joked about funny quirks we had in common that had little to do with classrooms and school. We then continued our fun night at a coffee shop listening to my fiance and some others play guitar. A great time was had by all.

Wednesday morning came and I received a phone call from my principal, my boss. I was informed I was being moved to seventh grade language arts inclusion instead of the eighth grade classroom I had grown accustomed to earlier. I was a little heartbroken, but not defeated.

See, the way I look at it is I have a whole drawer in my filing cabinet dedicated to seventh grade language arts; it was the grade and subject area in which I did my student teaching. I can pull from a number of lessons and projects I have extensive experience with. I also fit well within the seventh grade family at my new school since I was there not too long ago as a student teacher. I know the principal, the staff, and most importantly the secretary; if you know the secretary, you can pretty much get anything you need because they are truly the ones who make the school run.

I'm trying to be positive and energetic about most things right now. My extensive experience with seventh grade, and this school in general, will allow me to participate in extra-curricular activities that are close to my heart, like Relay for Life and drama/theater, without overextending myself...hopefully.

I moved to Macon this past weekend, thus creating a 35 mile commute from my new home to work. This morning I listened to "Today's Middle Level Educator," a podcast put together by the National Middle School Association. One of my educator heroes, Ross Burkhardt, was the guest on an episode entitled "Building Positive Professional Relationships...and Dealing With Those Who Refused to Do So." It was a fitting subject seeing as how I'm going in to an environment where I once had a different identity and am trying to establish myself in a new light.

The best piece of advice I took away from the session was when Mr. Burkhardt said, "You cannot be what you cannot see." How can we expect the young adolescents in our lives to be respectful or to act in an appropriate way if it has never been modeled for them. It is no excuse. We are to model ways of acting for students. We are to model professional relationships to help them see how adults should handle troubling situations. We cannot expect them to absorb things through osmosis...they must be exposed to such things and be able to learn them for themselves.

I am known to the many students with which I've worked over the past few years as a goofball, if you can believe it. One of my favorite and best goofball activities is making up songs about the students or about particular events in and out of the classroom. I have a good morning song, a goodbye song, a pencil-sharpening song, a reading song, and on and on. My latest and greatest composition comes in the form of a song entitled "The Positivity Song." I sing it at the top of my lungs when I feel myself becoming impatient with students and with other camp counselors. Now, this doesn't mean I am modeling random singing for my students but it does mean that the best way to handle an annoying or irritating situation is to remain positive and take it on! This is something I have struggled with my whole life and will continue to work on, especially in my professional life.

Remember:

"It's the positivity song!

Positivity all day long!

positivity! POSItivity! POSITIVITY!!!!!!

It's the positivity song!

I make it up as I go along!

positivity! POSItivity! POSITIVITY!!!!!!

It's the positivity song!

It helps me get along!

positivity! POSItivity! POSITIVITY!!!!!!

You don't know me!

Do you ever look around at your life and wonder if you can truly handle what is in front of you?

Often times I find myself in this situation when in the classroom. I look around at all the young faces in front of me and wonder if I can really take on the task of educating them. It is a tremendous task. I am taking on so much beyond teaching. Just a few months ago, I wrote this as my status on Facebook:

“Today I taught language arts, made 150 copies, gave out five Band-Aids, consoled three girls while they cried, hand-sharpened 36 CRCT pencils (and got a nasty blister from it), danced with students at lunch AND on the baseball field, played soccer in the hallway, and hugged approximately 80 seventh graders. Just another day in the life of a middle school teacher.”

Teaching is a busy life.

But I like it that way.

Two weeks ago, when I had officially accepted my position, I came bouncing into camp the next morning and announced my new job status to my eagerly-awaiting camp children. Immediately I heard such comments as, "Eighth grade? Really, Ms. Georgia Michelle? They're going to eat you alive! You're way too nice for eighth grade! Are you serious?" Indeed, I was serious. I was very happy with my choice. Before I could open my mouth, one of my campers, who just happened to have been one of my in-classroom students during a teaching placement my junior year, blurted out, "She will be just fine. Don't worry 'bout her! Y'all know Ms. Michelle not Ms. Herring. MS. HERRING will deal with eighth grade just fine. She can handle it!"

As funny as this little anecdote is, it raises a very important point. I am a different kind of person at camp versus at school, and this young man was wise enough to recognize that.

A good teacher teaches in the classroom while a great teacher teaches AND learns. I often say I learn so much more from the students with which I interact than they will ever learn from me. They teach me patience and understanding. They teach me important new words that a teacher of young adolescents needs to know. They teach me new dances, like the Wobble and the Cat Daddee, so I can continue to keep my lessons rigorous AND relevant.

They teach me that I can love hundreds of people unconditionally and with all my heart, and I certainly plan on doing so for as long as possible!

I'm a big girl!

This week, I signed the next year of my life away. I have accepted a position as an eighth grade language arts inclusion teacher for the 2011-2012 school year.

I expected the contract signing to be more of a spectacle. I guess I thought I was signing a contract for the NBA, complete with a press conference and flashing cameras. I would be given a hat with the school logo on it and would be interviewed.

Nope.

The human resources director printed my contract off the computer, handed it to me and went about her business until I said I was finished reading and I had signed the bottom. No fireworks, no flashing cameras. No cameras at all, really.

It all happened so fast. My appointment with her was at 10 am, and I was back at camp by 11 am. That morning I even woke up, did my hair and makeup, and put on a dress and heels. My camp students were astounded. I told them I was "Ms. Herring" in that outfit, and later I would return back to "Ms. Georgia Michelle."

I teared up as I walked out of the Board of Education office. This is a dream ten years in the making; I have wanted to be a teacher since I was in middle school. I am not just accepting a job as an eighth grade teacher; I'm fulfilling a dream.

Young adolescents are among my favorite people on the planet. They never cease to amaze me. They are insightful, inspiring, frustrating, and exhausting.

I cannot wait to start my journey and let the young minds teach me!