Cat Haiku...

Roxie Rules the Realm
She's Just Knocked Over Sam's Tree-
Snow Men Every Where

Run and hide yourself well, Roxie - the Duchess will Not be happy with you when she finds out.

Maybe she won't!
Thank goodness for CVS and super glue.

Quiet...

really quiet, my house, right now - all of the machines stopped whirring at the same time - strange, given the number of two-legged and four-legged occupants usually pounding around and splitting plaster from my ceiling and knocking pinecones and ornaments from the Christmas trees. Strange - like every other day this week - today, my favorite all-around good guy, eighth grade ELA teacher extraordinaire, gay but built like Adonis friend blew his stack. Spilled over, actually, from yesterday. UnBeLievable. Apparently the atmosphere at school is not just frustrating/confusing/pissing off the new people, but the very rocks that this institution has been built upon for the past six years. The best of the best have had it. They're dropping like flies...leaving. My friend put it bluntly, "Something has to be done, now, we're hemorrhaging." I do not want these teachers to leave, but I have no say. I do not want inconsistent discipline handed down from on high, but I have no say. I think there are too many indian chiefs and, here, I do have a say. I am going to stay safely in my classroom, leading my troops through the battle. Here I was trying to stay off of the radar screen - now I'm praying I dodge the bullets - or the arrows, or whatever the hell it is that's getting thrown around. This can't be normal...

Ok...

so I'm feeling totally conflicted. As I sit here typing this, I am relaxed - knowing that I am prepared for tomorrow - the rest of the week actually, but not for the reasons you'd think. The curriculum coordinator was asked by our superintendent to meet with me one hour a week for four weeks to lesson plan. A decision I sought - though not as vigorously as I could have for fear of appearing incapable - and one that I relish. Somehow this has now morphed in to this incredibly intelligent, long-standing educator teaching my classes - all day, everyday, apparently for the next three weeks. Here's the conflict: I want this - I need this - not having progressed through the traditional student-teacher model of educator preparedness and all, BUT, I do not believe this individual likes kids - in fact, I've observed his downright loathing of them. After speaking with several of my colleagues, I have learned that he left the classroom, twice, over the past two years. The reasons were unabashedly offered and, quite frankly, hold no interest for me, but as I sat in my mentee position the pain in my head increased exponentially throughout the afternoon. This educator operates from a position of fear and intimidation - I can't help but personalize some of the comments - yes, comments - many of them, all day - as insidious underminings (let's just live with this word for now) of what I have been doing for the past four months. Getting past the ego bit, however, the bottom line is I cannot, no - will not, speak to my students - my 7th graders - in what seems to be the pervasive tone of this school, exclusive of my superintendent and principal - militant barking. I certainly have no intention of embracing their attention via explosive outbursts. If this is what these students need, what shot do I have? I can only imagine the Monday I will be left to deal with after my esteemed colleague moves on to his next project. What happened to effectiveness on low volume?

Sleighbells ring...

are you listenin'?

Shining stars...

my students, each and every one of them. D. with the flashpoint temper and beautiful eyes. A. with handwriting so neat and soooo small, just the way she is. C. with the inability to print, but a wealth of ideas to share and talk about.  S. who can hardly remain in his seat, yet always seems to produce quality work when you least expect it. C. who is so lost and unguided that he must be as scared of himself as he has made his peers of him. M. who sits in the veryvery front so that when she speaks I can barely hear her, but when she dances..oh, when she dances she's larger than life. In school today, with the balance of your peers, and not with me thanks to a lingering cough that has me plain worn out. Listen today - stay in your seats - do your work - believe in yourselves - I've got my eyes on you !!

Prepare for Monday...

Pray for Snow. My new mantra. Never in my life have I been so grateful for an ice storm on a Sunday evening. The thought of spending the day at home, warm and cozy, reading or writing or watching a movie, has never held the special significance that it now does given my foray into middle school education. Over the past several weeks I have begun to get into a real rhythm within my ninety minute block - silent minute, then 10 minutes of reading the class novel (currently "Hoot"), next Grammar - two sentences of the week's Daily Oral Language skill and ten minutes of practice. What is supposed to follow is 25 minutes of a writing prompt or a writer's workshop, but I just can't seem to get my urban students to attend to this task successfully. They would rather talk, dance, sing, talk to the outlet, go to the bathroom - bubbler - nurse or get thrown out of class, talk... They have quickly learned that I tolerate very little of all of the above except for the talking - teacher-led, of course. We then have a break wherein I check their daily agendas for parental signatures (less than 25% success here) and entry of homework assignment(s) - almost 100% here. Our last 40 minutes consists of vocabulary and reading - whatever the unit may be - currently: House on Mango Street (L.O.V.E. this novel !!!) Bottom line - They Do Not Want To Work. They would rather be Told what to do, Read to, or Other. My heart goes out to these children - they do not appreciate structure - they fear it, challenge it, break it. What they know is exactly the opposite - many of my students do not know who is going to be home at 3:30, let alone in a week or a month. I am wrestling with "Do I want to be there for these kids who only have school to keep them safe?" vs. "Do I want to be in a classroom with supportive families in order that I may hone this craft called teaching?" I'm afraid I may be leaning toward the latter.

One day at a time, I suppose.