Play with words
Many of my best ideas are not my own.
Teachers, as it goes, are thieves. We borrow and steal ideas – attributing them when it’s fitting and modifying them to be our own when it’s working. Then, when it makes sense, we share what works and it becomes part of our collective practice.
Through my three years teaching, I’ve taken a lot. Paying close attention to my mentors and their classrooms, my ears perk up when I hear a good idea. Familiar with the ins and outs of a middle school classroom (at my school, anyway), I can tell what will work and won’t. I pass on the ideas that seem short term and artificial, knowing my students will ignore it or feel limited by its use.
But when I hear an idea that stands out, you’ll see me writing it down for later reference and, after some deliberation and forethought, making it happen. Everything is an experiment. Sometimes it works like I imagine, other times it fails - unsalvageable. But most often, it just needs some adjustment to work for me and my students.
Such was the case with a recent acquisition. It was an idea I heard during my first year teaching, but it took a while to integrate into my classroom. It required space and some front-loaded time and patience to create. Like the refrigerator magnet poetry that made its way into every college dorm/20-something’s kitchen in the 90′s, this was an attempt to make words, and putting them together, fun.
At this age, a student’s vocabulary is expanding at the rate of nearly 7 new words a day. They aren’t writing these words down or repeating them in new sentences. They are hearing them used in dialogue, without definition. My school learning group recently read an article that made clear “people develop vocabulary effectively and almost effortlessly as long as they see words in meaningful contexts.” Adopting a more robust vocabulary is not something that needs to be done through repetition (although that might work at first).
Based in this research, most schools require teachers to post their content words in the classroom. Called a “word wall,” this space is meant to expose students to vocabulary that fills their classroom discussions. These word walls are usually bland things, written on index cards and stapled to the wall. So in an effort to accomodate my school’s word wall requirement, and add a level of meaning (and even fun) to the process, I took on this new idea.
The picture really tells it all. Basically, white index cards are cut to size for a variety of general and commonly used words and conjunctions. Once the common words are ready, just apply magnetic tape (get a role from a craft store for $2.99). Then, as your vocabulary list grows, just add colored index cards, cut to size, with the new words written on them. Suddenly, you have a life size word wall, fit for a kitchen fridge but applied to a classroom whiteboard.
I call it Playing with Words, and the kids love it. During the morning free time or after a test is done, or when I need a kid to refocus, they get to play. Some of the sentences are poorly crafted, others just plain inappropriate. Every now and then, though, I notice a new sentence and it makes my day.
It was a great idea that I took and made a reality and I’m glad I did. On a small scale, it made the words we use in class more accesible and fun.
By now, you’ve decided if this idea is something you like. If you do, take it. You can steal it, change it, try it and scrap it. Then share it.
- Jeff
Amen
I took my students on our World Religions Tour field trip yesterday. We visited a Mosque, Synagogue and Buddhist Temple. It was, as it was last time, the best day all year.
The boys wore yamakas and everyone took off their shoes in the mosque and the temple.
They sat on pillows to meditate but started laughing half way through because they all don’t know how to concentrate yet.
They touched the Torah, which we all learned is made of animal skin.
Then they ate a kosher lunch and really liked it but they all wanted more cookies so I snuck my cookies to the kids with the best sad puppy eyes.
They sat on a giant prayer rug and watched one of their Muslim classmates demonstrate the prayer.
All the while recording their observations and asking questions like, “is it acceptable to marry more than one woman?” as they shattered stereotypes and cleared up misconceptions.
And the whole time they sat still, in suspension, not because we told them to, or threatened them with some consequence, or yelled. They sat there because all they wanted to do was learn something about something which they knew nothing about.
By the end of the day, what was foreign or maybe would have been called strange or weird, or even stupid – what might have caused confusion or fear, or worse yet, but all too common, hatred – was now all too improbable because the unknown was now a little less mysterious.
Which means the next time they see a Buddha in a Chinese restaurant or talk to a woman in a hijab who won’t at first look them in the eye or notice a little hat on the crown of a bearded man’s head, they won’t say “that’s weird,” or ask “why would someone do that?”
They will just know what it is. Or they will be brave enough to say, “Hi, I’ve got a question.”
And the wall that once separated them will have become a bridge, and they will, being the curious, spontaneous, brilliant people they are, walk across.
- Jeff
Unplanning the lesson plan
I write lesson plans every weekend. It takes about 2 hours to plan for 5 days, 2 preps a day = 10 unique lessons total. Mind you that’s just the plan. Then I have to create the stuff that makes the learning happen; the worksheets, the passages, the activities, the homework, the research, the assessments. It’s a process, but I actually enjoy it. I get to exercise my imagination in new ways on a weekly basis. With my students, there are few limits to what I can try – so even the risks aren’t as risky as they seem.
Every lesson starts with an objective – the learning goal we’ve got laid out beforehand – and you go from there. But sometimes, all that planning goes out the window. I’m starting to think it might be better that way.
Today, we were reading our most recent History Book Club novel, Does This Make My Head Look Big? and identifying examples of conflict. We got to a part when the characters (16 year old girls in high school) were impersonating one of their teachers. I looked around and they were all in it. They were in the story and reading and loving it. And it was 2:30 on a Friday and my room was kind of hot and muggy and I’m sure all that was on their mind was the weekend ahead. But they were reading with me – choosing to read with me. So we stopped reading.
And for the next 15 minutes they took turns impersonating their teachers.
For 15 minutes today, my students weren’t reading. They were characters in a book. Couldn’t have seen that coming and I sure didn’t write that in a lesson. But damnit it was the best teaching I’d done all week.
- Jeff
Donors, Choose Me!
I teach social studies, but really I teach history. Maybe a little geography. But my kids don’t learn the state capitols and they don’t necessarily know the difference between an ocean and sea. In fact, I’m not so sure I do. But this type of nonsense (the stuff a lot of people tend to value) doesn’t really interest me.
For the first two years I taught, my curriculum was lacking something more important – reading. Sure, we read, but it was little stuff, and we didn’t build on any skills. It was about content, not becoming better readers. There was a whole world I hadn’t explored and I was determined to do some exploration this year.
I instituting History Book Club and set the goal of reading three historical fiction novels throughout the year. The novels would be connected to our unit of study and leveled to push my students as they year went on. We started the year with an easy and high-level read, and now we’re moving on to longer and more demanding texts.
So far, each grade has read (or is finishing) two books. And all of those books, every single one of them, has been funded through DonorsChoose.org. An amazing organization, Donors Choose has changed my classroom and my teaching. I now have access to actual books that I can teach with and my students can read. They love it. I love it. And I hope you do, too.
If you’re feeling so inclined, and would like to support our reading, I’ve just started a new project to fund our third book of the year. Check it out at my teacher page at DonorsChoose.org and browse other teacher projects while you’re at it. We need all the help we can get.
- Jeff
When it snows
With the inclement weather as of late, I’ve heard a lot of talk about how we teachers react to snow days. Personally, I love ‘em. I can’t imagine not loving them. Any constraint I might show at the announcement (or anticipation) of a snow day might cause some serious medical problems. Instead, I scream and shout and – for the 5 minutes following the news – get a little crazy. If I had hair to let, I’d let it all down.
But that’s just me. I have no doubt that there are others out there (teachers, leaders, even students and certainly parents) who aren’t as joyous. They have their reasons: students need to learn, we don’t want a longer school year, where am I going to find a sitter at this hour? Fine reasons, indeed. Worthy of attention and thought and reflection, these concerns are real and, to an extent, I share them.
Take for example the fear that our students are not learning today. First of all, I think it’s awfully presumptive of you to think they can’t learn without you. They are totally learning. They are exploring their neighborhoods and homes during times when they usually are tucked away in classrooms, behind books and indoors. They are interacting with people and spending time with family who they really don’t see that much during the week. It’s awesome. They will probably get into fights and resolve them. They are probably watching a daytime talk show that’s about some interesting dilemma. They are probably making their own snacks and lunch with what they can find in the fridge and cupboard. Sure there’s no accountability or word walls where they are right now, but there’s definitely something happening. It sounds like I’m making excuses, but I’ve got to believe this isn’t time wasted.
I could even see myself, thought – on something like the tenth consecutive snow day – getting a bit agitated. But today, right now, on our third snow day of the year, I feel relief. The largest contributing factor of that relief is that we, as teachers, work really hard. I find myself exhausted on a daily basis, and not because I don’t take care of myself or manage my time. In fact, I’ve got a pretty balanced life. Yet, the energy output during the school day is such that I return home completely deflated, emotionally drained and ready for a quiet night akin to what old men do in retirement. That is my reality. And so when I get news of the possibility of more rest, it’s satisfying. It has nothing to do with a hatred of my job. It’s not that I don’t want to be at school. It’s that I want to be at home. I suppose those are related, but I posit the relationship is more complicated than we make it.
Let’s not be confused: when I shout for joy it’s not because I hate my job. It’s because I love myself.
With that said, I hear there’s a snow storm coming on Wednesday.
- Jeff
Submit
I’ve been at this now for a few months – this planning for my future, trying to gauge the best next step. I always assumed there had to be a next step. In reality, I could be pretty happy where I am for a while longer. But it wouldn’t be what I want, and I’ve gotten in the habit of going for what I want.
And contrary to popular belief, I don’t always get what I want. In the last year alone I’ve been rejected from five different organizations. And every time, I walk away with a little bit of doubt. That maybe I’ve run my course, that I’m not as stellar as I’d like them to believe, that I don’t know anyone on the inside, so I might as well just stay put.
But fuck that shit. I’m not staying. I want something to grow into – that’s the way it’s always been. I feel like I’ve never been ready for what I get myself into, but I always end up figuring it out and then growing up into something else. Well, I’ve only been teaching for three years, but I’m getting that itch.
After months of writing and listening and thinking, I just submitted my last application. I want to learn what it means to be a leader at a school. And then I want to do it. Whoever lets me won’t regret it.
I just hope I’ve convinced them.
- Jeff
In case you’re wondering, my potential next steps:
Columbia, Summer Principal’s Academy
No countdown necessary
Today was my last day of school.
It was anticlimactic.
It was a shitshow.
It came way too late.
It doesn’t feel over yet.
It’s summer.
I won’t let this landmark go without reflection. But, dear lord, please just let me rest for a second.
- Jeff
Let me explain
My students are sexually active. It’s really not something I’m fuzzy or confused about. It’s actually quite obvious. Pregnancies at my friends’ schools (and, yes, even my own) are not unheard of. But beyond literal insemination, my student’s conversations in the hallway, and their references to sex acts and the such make it clear that they’re far more advanced than I was at their age. In the midst of growing up, I forget my first exposure to all things sex-related. My parents never sat me down for “the talk,” so I must have picked it up from someplace. Regardless, I don’t think it happened in middle school. Then again, that comparison isn’t really very useful anyway. The point is that my students, at my school, are definitely having sex.
While I don’t necessarily condone it, there isn’t the space at my school to even bring it up. As their history teacher and part time mentor, I haven’t found the right place or time to interject my own thoughts on sex at 12 years old. While I think they can assume my position, it’s better ignored in favor of their own moral (or hormonal) compass. My philosophy, as it has been for a long time now, is that young people need access to information about sex at a young age. The more mysterious sex is, the more glorified it becomes, and the less they realize the real-world implications. For this reason, I wanted to play a role in de-mystifying it all.
I posted a list of micro-reforms I wanted to achieve by year’s end back in February. Included on that list was the goal of setting up a sex ed workshop series aimed at educating my students about their bodies, choices and, above all, contraceptives. Although my administration was hesitant at first (“this isn’t really a problem, is it?”) they embraced the idea after rallying other teachers to echo the same sentiment, and collecting a few risque notes that were intercepted during class. Let’s just say my student’s sexual vocabulary is broad and impressive.
I contacted the school district to get their approved organizations for sex ed resources and, upon seeing Planned Parenthood on the list, jumped at the opportunity. So over the last month, Planned Parenthood came in to present three workshops covering a good breadth of topics: from reproductive anatomy and making choices about sexual intimacy to abstinence and contraceptives, we made some good ground. The kids were mostly immature and giggly the whole time, but the mere mention of sex in school must have opened a whole new space to express themselves. The taboo attached to the word “sex” probably became less intriguing when I joined the conversation, and with a straight face, said things they likely didn’t expect to ever hear in room 801.
Our last workshop took place on Friday, after a long day of babysitting 8th graders while the other kids were on a field trip. To keep things rolling, we watched Avatar before the workshop got started. And during the session itself, after getting frustrated with their giggles and loudmouths, I said “We watched Avatar and now we’re talking about sex – what more do you want? Now be quiet.” It shut them up for a bit.
At least until we discovered the presenter left her plastic penis condom-dummy on the desk in our classroom. And after snapping a quick photo, I hid that in a jiffy. I can’t imagine the phone calls I’d be getting from home.
- Jeff
Running around
I’ve recently started getting serious about running. There’s something about it that clears my head and keeps me grounded. It’s not that I particularly like running, though. I’ll often question myself at the start of a run, wondering what I’m doing there, staring at the pavement and my feet and hoping they will slow down or just stop altogether. But then I lose all control and the pain goes away and I can breathe and think without worrying about the next step, or the next day or the next mile.
I’ve gotten so into running lately that I started a Run Club at school for the kids. As part of our elective program, I get to run during school hours with a group of about 14 students. Some are a bit lazy, but most of them are invested in getting better and running further each week. For those kids, it’s worth all the work. And as part of my work with them, I wanted to integrate a some good ol’ goal setting into the program since, as I tell the kids, running is all about setting goals.
It’s true, really. Unlike some of my classroom mantras, this one is not as much of a stretch. As a new runner myself, I’ve set goals every few weeks and started tracking my progress and pushing myself further and further. Just this weekend, I met my 5 mile mark with ease. Just a month ago, I wouldn’t have made it. But consistency and a solid, ambitious, yet realistic goal, has gotten me there.
For the kids, this type of thinking doesn’t necessarily come naturally. It needs to be spelled out, and repeated and discussed and illustrated and played out in their daily lives. So that’s what I’ve done. The runners keep track of their progress and thoughts about each run in a Goal Journal I keep in my classroom. And they have two distance goals I’ve set for them this trimester.
The first, a 5k (3 mile) run, was a success for the two that showed up on time (the third kid was too late). The race was last weekend and, spanning from the Art Museum along West River Drive, it’s a beautiful route. The boys that showed up were not completely convinced they would make, but I was sure the adrenaline provided by the hundreds of fellow runners would pull them through. It was my first race so I, too, was depending on their presence to make it.
The run itself wasn’t as bad as I expected. I had only run 3 miles once before, so I wasn’t sure how I’d feel. There’s always a fear in the back of my mind that prevents me from feeling confident. What if I step wrong, sprain an ankle, my knee starts to buckle, I get a headache…I have to pee! But, like always, 10 minutes in I forgot all that and just ran.
I decidedly stayed back with one of the boys, JP, to keep an eye on him. We talked here and there to keep our minds distracted, and at one point, JP said,
“If I finish this race, Mr. Manassero, I will be so proud of myself. I’ll know I can do anything.”
And I had nothing to say but to agree with him. It made up for the fact that 11 of his classmates were still home sleeping. And it provided just enough motivation to probably last a marathon.
But I stopped at the 3 mile mark. Because that was our goal.
Our next race is an 8k (5 miles) in two weeks. I’ve ratcheted up the training and am signing up all the kids, whether the cross the finish line running or not.
This whole running thing may just turn out to be my favorite part of teaching.
- Jeff
No rest for the wicked
I can’t even wait to get home for this one.
It’s been a real challenge to teach in the heat this week and last. With a sharp increase in the temperature outside, our students have become lethargic and slow. It doesn’t help that my classroom can get to 85 degrees on the worst days, either. So today one of my 6th graders fell asleep during independent work. I usually just poke them awake, but decided to have some fun today.
I left Waheem sleeping as the bell rang, and dismissed his classmates in silence. I whispered to stay quiet as my next class crept to their seats. We started class, and about 5 minutes later he awoke to some chatter and realized what had happened. The look on that little boy’s face was priceless. Obviously embarrassed and probably terrified, he got up and left my classroom. I felt kind of bad about it, but it’s a lesson he won’t soon forget.
It got me through the day, at least.
- Jeff
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