A student's work

One of my students recently won a 3rd place prize in New Hampshire Public Television's Reading Rainbow story contest.

My student's mother told me that even though the website didn't post this, he dedicated his submission to me, citing that I'd had a difficult year health-wise and had endured some "bad luck." I am touched, and am so impressed by his artistic and story-telling talent, so I want to share his work. Enjoy!

http://nhptv.org/rrcont/rr15willgetslucky.htm

What is a good education?

I've been thinking a lot about this lately -- and the problem is that the answers one generates can become very complex. I am affected by the deficits I see in my school system, and it is easy to get lost in the process of thinking about a wish list for the needs of the students in front of me.

As I discussed what a good education is with a friend last night, he summarized two broad ideas that I found myself ultimately comforted by.

My friend asserted that a good education would/should consist of: 1) the skills needed to function in our society with enough awareness of why/how things work; and, 2) the provision of experiences and ideas that are needed for an individual to get to know oneself and reach self-actualization.

My students will achieve neither of these completely by the end of 5th grade, at the age of 11... but at least I know that we are working on both "skills" and "self" at all times.

Just as my students need repetition and sometimes re-learn skills that they have addressed in previous grades, I, as a teacher, also need to remind myself of bigger picture ideas to help ground my work. Sometimes all it takes is a conversation with a friend who reminds you that pure academic skills are not the only essential piece to a good education. I just needed to be given words to something I've known in my heart all along.

comfort

Yesterday, before I found out that my school-issued computer had been stolen, and before one student pushed another by the neck at recess, and before I found out that Liana had asked Victor for money (which he'd given at lunch) to help her parents out... one of my students did just about the cutest thing.

In the library area, I have a large rug where we sit for mini-lessons and read-alouds. There are some benches where students can sit, and on this day, there were too many students trying to sit on the benches.

Nomar is a student I can count on to help me - always pleasant and helpful. At that moment, I needed to just get going with the reading, so I asked Nomar if he would mind not sitting on the bench today.

Nomar smiled, got up, and came over to my reading chair.

"Sure, I'll just sit here then. Is that ok?" He asked, completely genuine and smiling the biggest smile. Weighing a full 46lbs., Nomar sat on the arm of my chair, put his arm around my shoulder as best he could, and leaned his curly head of hair onto my shoulder.

"Can I really stay?" He asked. At that moment, he slipped into the chair a bit. We all laughed.

"Alright, Nomar. You can sit here if you want," I said. I scooted over as best I could, and surprisingly we both fit.

As I read the book to the class, Nomar sat next to me in the little green arm chair. I couldn't help smiling as he leaned against my shoulder -- his curly head of hair resting there until I finished reading.

inclusion

My classroom is an "inclusive" classroom. This means that I have students on all levels, including those with special needs. However, inclusive settings, like ours, often still keep students with severe diagnoses or disabilities in separate classrooms. For example, students who cannot speak, are severely mentally retarded, multi-handicap, etc., are in a smaller class with more teachers and aides.

The inclusive model and approach to education has been gaining popularity. In concept, I fully support it. However, when you have a class with students in a range from advanced to illiterate, there are some challenges -- particularly when the staff that would be required to provide all of the special education students with the services that they are legally entitled to receive are not provided.

When I think about how to describe the needs of my class in writing... I feel overwhelmed. I am thorough and long-winded by nature, and thus if I were to begin on this topic, I would want to extensively document and explain my students' strengths and needs. For that reason, I am trying really hard to keep brevity in mind when addressing individual incidents with students.

Months ago, one of my students was "re-classified" by our special education team as in need of a different school setting because of severe emotional, behavioral, and learning needs. However, her mother decided that she does not want her child to transfer schools (our school doesn't have such a classroom setting), until next year -- when she enters middle school.

This child has a huge heart and has endured a lot in her life. Lately, the biggest challenge we've been facing is how to deal with her stealing. She has stolen lunches from other students, electronics from kids and teachers, bags of food and supplies from the grocery store... there is clearly a level of need/want/cry for help.

I am not sure how to approach these deeper patterns and habits that are symptomatic of deeper issues. On the one hand, we are trying to get through the year with as much success as possible - keeping realistic and achievable goals. However, I can't ignore the needs of my students and the images/ideas I foresee in their future if certain patterns don't change.

In addition to this student, I also have a student who is severely dyslexic and has yet to be provided with an adequately applied rules-based reading program. He is functionally illiterate and I am very concerned for his future, given that he is cognitively capable. In a school with over 900 students, there are only 2 adults who are trained to teach rules-based reading. Even if there were more, these teachers have to service many students -- not just in rules-based reading, but all subjects that students in their grade levels are expected to receive.

Other students in my class have emotional, behavioral, and learning needs. I could write a book on each child. I love each of them and am doing my best to teach them at the appropriate level... but this is hard. Especially with all of the other non-academic issues we are all working on. Some days I feel as though I'm running a clinic and I have to do triage.

This is just a touch on my thoughts about inclusion and my students. In many ways it is difficult to write about issues so complex and yet so close to my heart. I'm so embedded in all of this that it feels difficult to establish enough distance to write eloquently or insightfully.

Scarves, animals, and MCAS

My 5th graders are still very young children at heart.

After Donnie and Isaac were so taken by my scarves on the first day of MCAS, I decided that maybe I'd bring a few more scarves for the next day of MCAS... just in case others were interested.

Before school, as I was looking around my bedroom for scarves to stuff in my gym bag, I started to realize I definitely wasn't going to have enough for all of my students (I guess I was trying to be really prepared). Several students from past years of teaching have given me stuffed animals - they are all propped up on my stereo - and so I decided to pack these in my gym bag as well... just in case.

Wednesday morning - second day of MCAS reading testing: My students were in a nervous buzz as they entered the classroom and tried to settle in. Once everyone had arrived, announcements ended, and desks were cleared, I pulled out my bag. I brought up that Donnie and Isaac had used my good luck magic speed writing scarves on Monday (sometimes I get carried away with adjectives) and I was wondering if those students and/or others were interested in such scarves for that day's testing -- I told them I'd brought more scarves from home.

I cannot tell you how cute the response was. Almost everyone wanted a scarf and an animal. I was horribly unprepared for this, yet delighted at the same time. Tiyori chose a dark brown velvety scarf my mother had given me for Christmas - I tried not to grin too much as I handed it to him. Kavoni, a boy with endless energy, chose my pink pashmina and a stuffed kitty a previous student gave me two years ago (the kitty sports a lovely pearl necklace - the student thought this would be a great girlfriend for my real cat, Oscar).

How endearing my students were during this testing session is basically inexplainable. Isaac wore a green scarf over his head like a sheik while he whispered to himself every so often about how he had just done a great job proving his answer. Kavoni worked very hard, but paused every once in awhile to resettle his kitty in the pink pashmina scarf. Sometimes he even set the kitty on his lap or shoulder, patting it lovingly. Nomar selected a small gray hippo, which had a lovely view of his day of testing from Nomar's lap, shoulder, head, and desk.

By the end of Wednesday's testing, my students had not only done an AMAZING job on their tests, they were so preoccupied with showing these little animals love that they weren't moaning about any of the test.

Which brings me to today.... Thursday - the last day of reading MCAS in 5th grade! I came fully prepared. As many scarves and stuffed animals as I could find from my house - as well as some stuffed farm animals I borrowed from another teacher.

This morning my students didn't breathe one word of fear or nervousness about the test... they were so excited to get a scarf and stuff animal and get settled. After announcements, we lined up to go to the bathroom before beginning testing. As we filed through the hallway, I couldn't stop smiling. The whole school was in a tizzy about testing, and my class was grinning as they walked down the hall. They were fully adorned in every scarf I own, with animals on their shoulders, arms, being held like babies, and one even wrapped up on Isaac's back like a backpack.

An adult passing by looked puzzled and asked me what grade I teach.

"5th grade," I said proudly, knowing that my students are fully embraced as the kids they are. I can't be sure, but I'd be willing to bet that my students were the only students preparing for MCAS walking around with genuine smiles on their faces.

The best part was seeing how hard they worked the entire day. Every once in awhile I'd see a student pause to reposition their scarf or animal... sometimes even petting or hugging an animal before getting back to work. I'm so proud of my students and their ability to find a balance between the children they are and the hefty tasks they are asked to complete.