After An Educator's Journey

Out of the classroom & into the universe

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Once upon a time, I taught 2nd, 3rd, and 4th graders. Now I’m retired and working on new ventures.
I taught second, third and fourth graders. Teaching was my passion and joy for 30 years. And it didn’t hurt that they called me “mom” sometimes.

  • It’s the Vocabulary, Part 2

    I marvel at the quickness with which second language learners pick up on the structure of English. Most of my kids give new constructs a try without too much fear of seeming like they don’t know what they’re doing.  As an aside — and as an Italian/French language” studier”, I wish I could be more like them. Maybe then I would actually start to learn another language.

    Putting the constructs aside, however, the great big deterrent for kids is vocabulary and idiomatic expressions. Even in children’s literature. Case in point, this month’s Response to Literature was based on the story “City Green” by Dyanne DiSalvo-Ryan. One of the major characters, Old Man Hammer,  transforms throughout the course of the story and we ask the students to respond to how that character changed.

    Problem number 1: the character’s name. Most of my kids were familiar with the term “Hammer” but had absolutely no idea that Hammer could be someone’s last name. And why would they? Once we finally got past the fact that a hammer could be a tool and someone’s name, we had to deal with the expression “hard as nails”. Wait a minute! Nails are things you glue on to your fingers, right? Or something you hammer to hang up a picture? What does being as hard as a nail have to do with some old guy?

    Here’s just one place where students with another language background struggle. Now layer on a high-stakes reading test which uses grade level texts similar to “City Green”. And take away the vocabulary and language support provided by the teacher. Seems to me that the playing field is already seriously unlevelled. My students will have to jump over the hurdle of vocabulary before they can even show that they can respond to a text with the same level of finesse that their native English-speaking counterparts do.

    I’m thinking of this as I prepared another grade level mentor text that I want to use to revisit inferencing this coming week.  The book’s title alone, “Tight Times” will probably cause some confusion. The vocabulary support, the explanations of idiomatics will be there so that we can focus on inferencing a plot with which most of these students will have copious familiarity: losing jobs and living frugally.

    The students will be able to access the comprehension skill, they will be able to apply it to another similar text (“Gettin’ Through Thursday”). And we will troubleshoot the vocabulary and idiomatic expressions to assist them. Test scores don’t tell the whole story, particularly when so much vocabulary presents such a significant impediment.

  • There is nothing like a snow day!

    Okay, while I don’t like to have to make them up, we needed this snow day. Every school year needs one.  And this one is a lollapolloza. The weather dudes predicted it way in advance. And while no one believed them (the last 2 snowstorms were duds), they stuck to their forecasts.

    Our current superintendent of schools comes from the Canadian Maritimes. It snows there. Lots. So over the last couple of years, we have come to expect to have to go to school when it’s snowing. Because it’s New England. It snows. Get over it.

    You can imagine my delight – and surprise – when the school department’s communication system robo-called last night with the new that there would be no school today. Even though over 500 eastern MA school systems had already called school, I didn’t expect to learn whether or not I’d be going in until the morning. Whoo-hoo! Bring out the french toast!

    And the actual snow fall? I’m looking at about 24 inches on my patio table right now. This time the weather dudes were correct. Good for them! No matter how much of a pain in the behind the clean up will be, there is nothing like a snow day to make us all feel like kids again.

  • Responding to bullies

    I don’t like being blindsided any more than anyone else. So this week when our school social worker relayed to me that one of my student’s parents said her child was being bullied, I was taken aback. As a Responsive Classroom, we continually work on appropriate social interactions. As part of the Making Meaning program, a large piece of instructional time goes in to socially acceptable ways to agree or disagree, to dialogue with peers.

    Nevertheless, the parent’s concern was laid out and, as is required by law in Massachusetts, we address such concerns seriously. We are revisiting bullying this week.

    I usually begin discussions of bullying by trying to figure out if students can define what bullying is and what it is not. It was amazing to me that sometimes kids think when a peer tells them to “shut up” that they feel they have been bullied. In the past, I’ve handled such events in the classroom with discussion between the involved students which ends with a plan the students themselves concoct for more polite interaction. But now, once the student or parent of the victim has raised the topic of bullying, there are formal procedures and documentation that need completion. What was at one time simple, has become complex. Which is what happens when we try to legislate every aspect of human behavior, isn’t it?

    So this coming week, I will once again assist my students in defining what bullying is (for my third graders: repeated times that someone (or a group) makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable). We will read age-appropriate literature like The Recess Queen as a jumping off point. We will role model. We will talk. And we will write, because sometimes my kids feel safer when they don’t have to say the words out loud.

    I was thinking of all of this as I watched the shootings in Tuscon, Arizona unfold yesterday afternoon. Are we, the adults in our society modeling socially acceptable ways to agree or disagree when we get so incensed about another point of view that we can no longer listen to what is being said? What kind of a model for civilized discourse is in our own adult interaction – political or otherwise – when we can’t even  agree to disagree without threatening? Frankly, the Sheriff in Pima County, Clarence Dupnik, has it right.

    It is something to ponder.

  • Overheard in the hallway

    They make me laugh some times.

    In all seriousness, one of my students asked me “Mrs. Bisson, is a hellno bad?”

    What? And my little friend repeated the question patiently.

    Now this student who came to us last year from Gambia, speaks with a heavily African influenced accent.

    Perhaps I’m not hearing her? So I asked her to repeat and she did. Verbatim.

    Still no comprehension on my part. I looked at her peers who were equally serious and intent on finding the answer: “Is a hellno bad?”

    Exasperated and in all sincerity, one of them looked right at me and spoke slowly and clearly enunciating each syllable (for the aged and decrepit?):

    “You know, a hell no. Is that a bad word?”

    And then it dawned on me. I confessed I had heard some people use those words (guilty) and while the words are not “bad”, polite people don’t use them in polite company — like a school.

    Oh, they make me laugh some times.


  • Letting Go

    One of my New Year’s Resolutions – the list is really long! – is to try not to be such a control freak about what we do in the classroom. I’m letting go of the idea that I need to be at school before 6:30 am (our school begins at 8:30) and that I can’t possibly leave before 5 pm to get things done. Yesterday I left the house at 7 am and discovered that there is a world of sunlight out there!

    Well, the reform movement can also be applied to my students. Yes, in general, they are a handful, but just maybe they will step up to the plate if I shift some responsibility on to them.

    Up to this point, I had very complicated management for what part of the Daily 5 Cafe each student was responsible to complete on a daily basis.  I felt the need to do this because of the requirements for small-group instruction within our school – Safety Net students must meet with teacher and literacy partner (also a teacher) twice each day. Out of a 40 minute block, that does not leave much time for self reading, does it? And when do these very needy kids get to experience (and possibly get jazzed up by) other aspects of literacy? It was a puzzlement.

    So, I’ve shifted things around so that the whole group lesson is scheduled for a half-hour instead of 15 minutes. Will I spend 15 minutes in lecture mode? Heck no! I just am keeping that time so that kids can go off and start other things before they are in full small group rotation mode.  I think it will work – at least it did yesterday.

    Additionally, the rest of the students who are not in a small instructional group, now have the flexibility (I think my exact words to them were: “I think you are grown up enough to handle this….”) of completing the D5 activities in whatever order pleases them. They have to make 3 commitments: 1) to read for at least 20 minutes every day without interruptions, 2) turn in their response journal on the assigned day and 3) not to spend all of the D5 block standing in front of the classroom library chatting it up.

    As I was testing students yesterday (our mid-year Fountas Pinnell tests start now), I looked around the room in amazement. It was quiet, the conversations that were taking place seemed to be about literacy, and outside of 2 students who were testing whether or not I’d notice, no one was in the classroom library socializing.

    It is hard for me to let go. Most of the time I feel responsible for making sure everything goes perfectly — and there’s the problem. It is not just my responsibility – it is a shared one. And as far as perfect? Well, these are kids, so I need to remind myself to park perfection at the door.

    So far, so good.

  • Redirection

    It came to me as a sleep-filled message.

    One of my current charges is a real behavioral headache. This child has witnessed more trauma than anyone should, let alone anyone who is just 9 years old. And, as you might expect, the child has many behavioral tics that get in the way of his — and everyone else’s learning.

    Even when he has taken medication, prescribed for ADHD and PTSD after behavior modification just didn’t seem to be the answer, he has difficulty knowing boundaries and behaving within our classroom norms and ground rules. If one student gets some attention from me he immediately seeks the same. He is an intelligent student, one for whom mastering third grade standards is not a problem.  Yet this need for validation  is exhausting for both of us — for him, to constantly feel the need to find validation from his teacher.

    With just two days left until the school year begins again, I have started churning what I can do for my students to redirect them, to make our classroom engaging. For this student, I already felt the dread and pressure of continual interruptions for me to drop everything and give attention – something that needs to be resisted. And the answer came to me: with firmness and consistency, teach the student to self-reflect, to look at his own work and decide for himself if it is his best.

    If I can do this, and I must succeed to really be this child’s teacher, he will take with him wherever he goes. We all need to learn self-reflection; we need to look at what we’ve accomplished and decide for ourselves if it is or is not our best effort. And isn’t that a lesson far more important than anything else I can give him?

     

  • A Time to Take Stock

    I am not a big fan of New Year’s resolutions. In fact, most years, I just blow them off — why does one day signify the starting point for change more than any other?

    During this vacation – yet another perk of working in a school system is the week off between Christmas and New Year’s Day – I’ve begun to read Eat, Pray, Love. Even after finishing just half of it, I’m finding a real connection to this book. Although much older than the author, I’ve felt the same, wanted to search for the same inner peace.

    During last month of school, both student and professional demands made for a very stress-filled and difficult time.  If you’re in education, you know what I’m talking about and if you’re not, you’d probably not understand it anyway, so I won’t waste energy on a list. Less is more. Worrying, wondering how we’ll meet our financial obligations. Adjusting to life as a almost-retiree (5 more years!). All of it has taken a toll.

    Yet, when I look back on 2010, while I am “done” with it, I still feel fortunate. Just breathing is a victory. There have been moments when the opposite seemed a desirable alternative. So I celebrate that I am here and I get another opportunity to set things right.

    What kinds of resolutions do I hope and pray for? For one, I want to be less OCD about my professional life. This week, I’ve awakened several mornings at the late hour of 7 am to find that there actually can be daylight. In place of leaving my house at 6 am, would the world be any less well off if I left at 7?

    What to do with that “extra” hour in the morning? I keep reading about the effects of  sleep deprivation – which has been a way of life for about 5 years now. Maybe I’ll just sleep. Or meditate. Or do something entirely selfish like read a book or listen to music. Or exercise.

    But maybe I’ll just sleep. That’s a place to start.

     

     

  • Thanks But No Thanks

    It happened that I was sitting at my desk during my lunch, reading the local newspaper, when I spotted an article about new ethics requirements for teachers who receive gifts from students. How ironic that this discovery was on the day before our Holiday break — and that 5 students had given me a Christmas present that very day!

    The new regs seem like a knee jerk reaction to some larger issue, and far removed from the tokens that kids bring to their teachers. It’s not as if the students I have from families with limited monetary resources are buying me a day at the spa. The geniuses behind this regulation  can make all the noise they want about “bribery” and undue influence as evidenced by a present for teacher. If a good grade or college recommendation can be “bought” with a $25 Dunkin Donuts card, image what $250 could buy.  Valedictorian?

    So this morning, in addition to handwriting thank-you notes — because THAT’s the polite and accepted social norm  I want to model for my kids — I dug through the mass.gov website and found the form I need to complete. I’m including the link here for anyone else teaching in the Commonwealth’s public schools (hmmm, do Charter School teachers need to do this too?).

    Despite my appeal for no gifts (I have a treasured collection of notes from students),  some parents and students still give gifts at certain points in the year,  Christmas being one of those times. I dread Valentine’s Day — I’ll have to refile this form for every cardboard box of candy a student brings.

    So here’s what I’ve needed to declare in order to disclose “the appearance of a conflict of interest” (I kid you not, this is the title on the form!):

    • 2 packages of Ferrero Rocher chocolates
    • 1 Country Apple bath set
    • 1 Cherry Blossom bath set (hmmmm, are the kids trying to tell me something?)
    • 1 dozen butter cookies in a ziplock baggie
    • a 2009-2010 calendar (priceless!)
    • hand lotion and a jar candle
    • handmade eggrolls to share with the class and 1 chocolate homemade cupcake

    I might add that, in the spirit of not allowing presents to impact my professional decisions, I did complete a behavior report on one of the gift-givers after the students aimed a pencil at another student in the classroom (missed!) and used inappropriately foul language.

    Good grief!

  • Following Your Bliss

    This morning’s Boston Globe contained an article about a (former) software engineer who had recently turned teaching yoga full-time.  Struck by similarities to our circumstances, got me thinking about my own career.

    It is not a secret that recent developments in the field of education are not all that enjoyable for practitioners. We worry if our next false step will lead to public reprimand, or worse. We deal in the complexities of humans, not in the predictability of widgets. Those who think we can easily apply all of the manufacturing or business principles – the very ideas that make for successful businesses – need to consider the human condition more seriously. There are just so many things over which a teacher has control and that is what makes education interesting.

    In my 20s, I was at turns a bookkeeper and a customer support person. I held a dream of getting an MBA and making my fortune. It was, however, not to be. The software company for which I worked went belly-up leaving me – and many others – without 2 months of pay and with no job. Without the credentials of a B-school graduate, I was left at a crossroad: either accept a secretarial position and start again, or really start again – find what makes you happy.

    It took several years of introspection to get me to the point where I yielded to the draw education has for me. But, once the decision to return to school was made, I never looked backward. Awkward moments at corporate gatherings aside (at that time, educators were leaving teaching to carve our a career in corporate), a career in education has been for me, the bliss I was seeking.

    I tried those private sector career moves before I came to teaching. The pundits and politicians can try to erode the enthusiasm and wonder with which I approached teaching from a start now more than 20 years ago. Following the one thing I was meant to do has been a joy a privilege, worth more than the tangible trappings of a more lucrative career.

    Without regret I have, and continue to follow my bliss.

  • What the Tour Bus Would Miss….

    Junia Yearwood is quickly becoming one of my favorite Boston Globe reads. The article, “If Only Visitors Could See My Students“, provides insight into an urban classroom — and warns of the dangers of believing what one reads or learns via the fifth estate.  So, here is what visitors might miss in my classroom.

    The quiet girl who transferred in about 2 months ago. Homeless, her family had been living in a local hotel until recently. She is an accomplished reader and is becoming an accomplished writer; a sadness envelopes her most of the day. She write poetry and song lyrics in her native Spanish – and then translates them for all of us to enjoy when she musters the courage to open herself to sharing. In her journal she writes about her father who died suddenly in hospital. If a classmate is in trouble, she is the first to help or provide support. While her mother works the night shift, she watches over a school-age younger brother and 2 twin babies. In her eyes you can see the strain of having to be responsible beyond her chronological years.

    Engaging and social, nearly always the center of things, the student sitting next cannot read. Oh he tries, but the brain connection between what he sees on paper and what he is able to do disconnects. He has no IEP, yet struggles to read at a beginning grade 1 level. The process for getting him evaluated for special education services may take an entire year of data collection. Meanwhile, he and I do the best we can to make the connections.When he is working with me, he is serious. He wants to learn to read but is terrified his friends will find out that he can’t.

    The next student is a better-than-average third grade student with the potential to be brilliant. He has told me he wants to be a scholar and a scientist. He is a big boy – as wide as he is tall. Though he is often in someone’s personal body space, he cannot help himself. Oh how I hope he comes back to visit when he grows to be comfortable with himself! And how I hope he’ll hold on to that dream of becoming a scholar and a scientist even when so many temptations surround him that would take him off the path to his goal.

    Another nearby student exasperates with his absent-mindedness. His brain is working all of the time, though,  and when he expresses an insight into reading, it is mind-blowing. He is convinced he is bad and talks about how his “bad” alter ego needs to take a hike. He is the only student I’ve ever taught who was convinced he was on Santa’s naughty list – and gave detailed reasons why and how he was planning to change the situation. Here is child who is used to people who expect little of him. He hoards food from our breakfast program and from the cafeteria at lunch. Is his family unable to put food on the table? My guess is yes.

    So many hardworking, complicated students. It is not simply the academics in an urban classroom. As Junia Yearwood points out, a visitor would witness the will of the human spirit to overcome what life has dealt. It is the spirit of my students that inspires, that keeps all of us coming back to work another day.