O' The May Madness

May Madness.  In a school the madness doesn't come in March as it does the rest of the country.  It comes in May.  May is the month of sunshine, trees budding, flowers blooming, bees buzzing, and complete and utter chaos in most classrooms in the North East.  O' The May Madness.

Quickly after Spring Vacation, teachers continue the game of state testing.  The prep, or the fight to not prep, smacks every teacher in the face (repeatedly).  The redesigning of the classroom (because all posters that could pertain to any information that may or may not appear on the test need to be removed from the walls, ceilings, floor, etc.), faculty meetings with devotion to testing administration, along with frequent emails fill your mornings.  Tightening of the chest, and midnight wake ups, associated with testing spread throughout the region.  O' The May Madness. 

Once NYS testing has concluded, it is our job to remind student that teaching and learning is still important.  It is important to impress on them that "Yes, we STILL have curriculum to teach before I send you on to the next grade."  Trying to explain to the students why they are learning material AFTER the state assessments, that was ON the state assessments, is always a difficult task.  And somewhere in our mental filing cabinet we try to store the fact of which topic was tested that wasn't yet taught.  O' The May Madness.

You begin to say things like, "Next years teachers...."  or "The Junior High School...." or "There is one of your future teacher - show them your greatness."  The idle threats are always meant with good intentions:  Maybe they will appreciate how good they have it right now?  Maybe they'll walk a bit straighter, or a bit quieter, in the hallway?  Maybe they'll stop swearing at each other the minute I walk away?  Maybe they'll step it up, FINALLY?  But in the mean time, we end up TERRIFYING the kids that are ready for the next step, and the ones who aren't ready are not listening, anyway.  O' The May Madness.

It is in the month of May that life at recess begins to fall apart.  I often wonder if it is because of the seemingly endless winter - did they just FORGET how to play, NICELY, together?  Is it because they are big fish in a small pond at this point, and just beat up on each other?  (Much like siblings.)  These are the moments, each day, that every teacher hopes that when the principal wanders down the hall, that he is NOT stopping into his/her room to report the newest "incident".  Our shoulders, literally, slump over, heads dropped, and deep breaths are taken.  Not only because this generally means more work - finding work for the students to cover during in-school suspension or detention, phone calls to be made home, etc... But mostly, it is because each time a student has a problem like this, it is a reminder that they may not be ready to leave us, and still have so much left to learn.  It is a feeling of inadequacy - like if I had done my job better, this wouldn't have happened.  O' The May Madness.
 

The countdown begins - for teachers and kids - until summer vacation.  Student effort, generally, begins to decline and the occasional students says "that seemed too hard, so I didn't bother trying."  Despite the beautifully enticing weather, recess and lunch detention is on the incline.  Panic sets in for teachers- we still have 2 more math units, graduation rehearsal to prepare for, awards assemblies, student speeches to be given, graduation speeches to be written, future class lists, faculty meetings, SLO tests (which change the whole schedule), finals, the Bronx Zoo, track meet, and Spring Fling...  How is it possible that the year is coming to a close so very quickly?  Assemblies are squeezed into the schedule, fire drills (which always seem to happen in the 30 minute pee-break you get a day), and scheduling meetings to prepare for the following year.  Yet, my mind hasn't wrapped itself around this one.  O' The May Madness.

The hugs get tighter - because teachers and students don't want to let go.  The laughter gets louder, and lasts longer, because you start to appreciate each other in a manner that is different than before.  The concern grows deeper, because your time to teach them all that they need to learn for next year, and in life, has significantly reduced.  And the tears brim a bit more often, because no matter how many times I wanted to bang my head on the wall, I do love each of you and preparing to say goodbye often takes my breath away.  O' The May Madness.

You Taught Me More Than I Taught You

(Please forgive the post about teaching and learning outside of a classroom)

I sit here overwhelmed by the stages of finality in the next few of months of my life.  Starting with this weekend I will say goodbye to 5 young women that I have had the opportunity to mentor, next month say good bye to my sixth grade family of the year, and then good bye to single-hood.  I will say hello to 5 new young women, hello to summer, and hello to a being a wife and having a husband.  While all of these welcomed "hellos" are exciting, there are moments to sit and appreciate the journey along the way.

It strikes me most now because I have been struggling with how to say goodbye to these young women who have not only impacted me, but the City of Albany, and hundreds of kids in the community (and beyond).  In 2008 I was given the opportunity to participate in the Tulip Queen and Court Selection Committee for the City of Albany.  At the time I didn't really have a true understanding of the program, but I knew it had to include great young women as a former roommate of mine had previously been crowned Queen.  When the rest of us were "living it up" at college, she was getting up early to be a Big Sister, volunteer for programs, and take care of her nieces and nephews.  I was curious, and so I accepted. 

Each year I was overwhelmed by what these young women had accomplished in their lives prior to reaching the "Tulip Family" and more overwhelmed by how to narrow the selection down to 5.  I would often sit in interviews and feel as if I was just a bump on a log in society (as an educator) because what these young ladies do is far beyond me.  As each year came to an end, and we heard about their greatness, I would cry in pride that I got to be a part of a team that selected young women that changed the world.  Despite the vast age difference, they inspired me to be a better person personally, and remind my students that they could change the world.

This year I got the honor of co-chairing this committee with a truly beautiful person.  Originally, I thought this just meant running the selection interviews (which run about 3 months per year), and a couple of meetings throughout the year.  When I realized that I had the opportunity to be a part of the year-long journey these young women would have I was eager to participate, and nervous with the anticipation of what the year would bring.  These are the moments that those closest to me think I am nuts.  They often question my sanity and how much I can handle between school, the musical, district committees, planning a wedding, family/friends, etc.  (You get the gist - we all do a lot).  But what they didn't understand was that this was less about the girls, and more about me.  I could only imagine what I was going to learn so much from these 5 young women, and be a part of a journey that was well-worth the hours volunteering.  It was time to give the City of Albany just a little bit more of myself, as these women gave so much.

These 5 young women did programs in countless schools in the City of Albany.  They worked with students to believe that they would go places beyond what they could have ever imagined (inspired by the one and only Dr. Seuss).  These young women transitioned from Mayor Jennings to Mayor Sheehan and were so eager to let her see their greatness and value to the community.  When a local family had a series of fires and lost everything, these young ladies put on a benefit concert to raise funds to help them get back on their feet.  When they came to us with a very large task of creating a video for the local Children's Hospital at Albany Medical Center, and we were concerned with the extensive undertaking this would require, they basically told us they believed in this project, and it would happen.  As a team, they pulled even closer together, and with help from many organizations- they made this happen.  Dunkin' Donuts donated $1 for every view, up to $10,000.  They reached that number before the video was even posted a month. Tulips & Albany Med Video

These young women read and chatted with seniors, greeted people at many festivals, and were amazing ambassadors for the City of Albany.  They worked with young boys at Straight Shooters and advocated for the use of technology in their program to assist in literacy development.

There were moments when I pushed these young ladies - hard.  There were times when I knew that what I would say was going to sting, and had to put my faith in them that they would learn the lesson I had intended.  Moments of frustration passed, and energy and compassion for others remained.  I watched them overcome hurt from the past, obstacles in the future, and develop an indescribable bond.  Mostly, I was enthused by their diversity and dreams.  I was inspired.   

Tomorrow I will watch as these young ladies say their final good byes to the City of Albany (at least in this role), and welcome in 5 new young women.  These 5 new women have big shoes to fill, but a lot of potential and energy.  I can't begin to thank the former Mayor Jennings, and  current Mayor Sheehan for seeing value in the program that runs with 60+ years tradition, bringing more awareness to the City of Albany, and letting these ambassadors make a difference.  Marcus Pryor brought me into the "Tulip Family" (extended family, but family) and has modeled service, awareness, and caring for others.  Amy Kaplan stood beside me as we watched these women grow, and shared laughter and tears with me during the journey.  But Kate, Meghan, Alexis, GiGi, and Fendi - you have taught me more than I ever could have hoped to have taught you.  You have changed the lives of children and our community more than you can even begin.  Despite the long year, I am not ready to say good bye quite yet.

A Series In Testing (Part 2): I Was A Student With Test Anxiety

I remember very well the first time after I had taken a standardized test, being praised by my mother.  "You read as well as a twelfth grader!" my mother exclaimed, looking at the test results.  I had never been so proud of myself.  I loved reading, and it was the number one connection I had with my father, so this meant more to me than anyone ever could have imagined.  I wasn't just a good reader... I wasn't just a "Blue Jay"... I was better than high school readers!  In my head, it actually made perfect sense.  I was always a child with a book in my hand, racing through a text.  My father was an avid reader, and so clearly we were a lot alike. 

The very next year I took standardized tests, and was beyond ecstatic.  I was good at these tests!  I could read anything!  After all, I was reading at a 12th grade level.

I'll never forget the moment when my mom got those results.  I had qualified, and was going to be attending, remedial reading.  I didn't understand.  I still don't.  How had I gone from reading at a 12th grade level in 3rd grade, to needing remedial services in 4th?  And I was the only child in the family that LIKED to read - what did this mean for that connection I had with my Dad?  Although I wasn't thrilled about attending, I went, and only because the teacher was so kind.  Within months I was discontinued from services.   I didn't understand why.  I still don't.

I don't remember performing as well as I was capable on a single test after fourth grade.  I'm sure I did adequate, but I don't remember doing well. I do remember always questioning what was really being asked.  I was never a child that could rule out more than one answer on a multiple choice test.  And I always second-guessed what I knew and did the opposite.  I would suddenly lose all confidence in myself when any form of a test was placed in front of me.   

I vividly remember sitting in Global Studies 10 trying to take a final.  I had written my name on the test, but beyond that I couldn't remember a single word.  I didn't know about the times and places that were being tested - I had sat in class every single day, and had studied several nights in advance, and yet, none of this sounded familiar.  Global Studies was an area that was challenging for me to begin with, and I knew that I needed to perform well because I had struggled on all of the previous tests. I could feel the teachers glare, as I often had, perusing the room.  Panic set in, and it was all I could do to fight back tears.

I climbed into my mom's Black Cherry minivan, and the fear, frustration, and defeat poured out of me.  "I don't understand why I can't remember anything when I take tests.  I failed.  I can't remember any of the words she has said all year."  I cried the full thirty minutes home, and my mom instantly got on the phone with a psychologist in the hopes to figure out what was going on with her youngest (and favorite) child, as I prepared for attending summer school.   

After a multitude of tests, and conversations with an amazing psychologist, she deemed that I struggled with anxiety - specific at this point was test anxiety.  She was a bright woman who understood more than I ever said, and I imagine, foresaw the struggle with anxiety that would come in the future.  She put into place a plan where I had extended time on regular tests, and an alternate location.  My all girls, private, high school was more than willing to assist with this accommodation, and I quickly saw my grades begin to improve.  I was touched by my Physics teacher, who on more than one occasion would come and check on me and my progress.  She would reword questions if I didn't understand the language, or tell me to stop and think.  She believed in me, and with that helped me to overcome some of the anxiety I had associated with testing.  By the time I headed to college, I knew that I could and would be more successful.  I knew that I would never do as well as my peers on a summative assessment that was typical to a classroom, but I had figured out enough to express my thoughts on anything written. 

I still struggle with anxiety.  I am prone to the tightening of the chest, and sleepless nights, during high stress situations.  But I watch the occasional student, whom at the mere age of 11, can't put into words their struggle.  I watch them understand, participate, and correctly complete their classwork and homework... And then I watch them fall apart on the tests.  I hear his words when he says, "I know it until the test.  And then everything... well, I just forget it all." I hear her words when she says, "They put so many words for each question, and on each page.  Then I start to think I must not know the answer.  I don't know what they're say and I forget everything I know, just trying to figure out what they are asking.  Then I forget everything for the whole test."

It has been many years since I sat in school taking standardized tests.  It is confusing to me that the same mistakes are being made at a state and a national level.  Why have they not figured out that a standardized test is not the most informative measure of student ability?  That in fact, it only measures that student, on that day, given the tested skill/strategy that the test creators deemed was most important? 

A Series About Testing: NYS Says I Am Nothing More Than A Number

This piece was written last September in a reaction to student test scores and teacher evaluation.  

"You all get A+++!" I exclaimed to my students sitting all along the floor in front of me.  I sat down on the pink velour chair feeling really great about myself as a teacher.  None of my students ever spoke during instruction or talked back, their answers were always right, and they were all great friends.  I knew looking at Teddy, Froggy, Raggedy Ann, and Prima Ballerina that I was meant to be a teacher.

Unlike other teachers, I wasn't the model student.  I was never disrespectful, but certainly known as a "Social Butterfly".  I didn't memorize my multiplication facts, making division near impossible, and I had a tutor at the mere age of 9.  It never mattered to me that I wasn't the perfect student; I still wanted to be a teacher.  I thought all of my teachers were amazing.  Mrs. Dakota was my first grade teacher.  She was the first African-American woman I was really close to, and she would speak French!  I remember feeling like she was one of the smartest women in the world.  Mrs. Mahoney, my third grade teacher, who always smiled and helped me with a very gentle voice- I knew she loved all of her students.  Mr. Harvey challenged me and questioned my thinking, but he valued my strengths.  Mrs. Van Buren in sixth grade really listened to what I had to say.  Ms. Gleason encouraged me to take physics despite the principal telling me it was too hard and to drop the class.  She took the time to read my tests to me 1:1, afterschool, to ensure my anxiety stayed under control.  Being a teacher in a small private school, she made it clear that she was never in teaching for the money.  She challenged us to think about real world issues that we were always taught were "wrong" and "sinful".  Ms. Gleason was the first woman to teach me that it was okay to stand-up and fight for what you believe in - that as women we owed it to one another.  She believed in me, and taught me more about being a teacher who loves and respects her students than any other single individual.  I went off to college to be trained to be a teacher.  I believed in my heart I was meant to be a teacher, and to this day I don't question that my purpose in this world is to educate.  I don't envision a second career, or another place in the world where I am more passionate. 

However, no college program in the world could have prepared me for the actual nuances of education at this time.  It never would have occurred to me that one of the noblest of professions would be radically questioned and so violently disrespected. 

See, last week I became a number.  Last week, my students became a mere score.  Every teacher became a label, and panic set in.  I allowed a number to dictate my feelings about myself, about my profession, and most tragically - my students.  I began to use words like "effective" and "highly effective", "developing" and "ineffective". 

The assumption that I was defined by a mathematical equation was insidious.  I began to question everything I believed as a teacher.  I began to wonder if I had wasted countless lunch periods relating to my students, and helping them solve their personal issues, because that wasn't added into my equation.  How many Saturdays had I spent at softball, baseball, football, and basketball games just to see them shine outside my classroom?  That didn't help my confidence interval at all.  Questioning whether or not to keep our students with special needs in my class in the future raced through my head because their "growth" might be less.  I was spewing out factual data about the growth of remedial readers versus the complexities of the test.  Analyzing my former students test scores, and comparing my current student tests scores began making my chest tight. 

With my head in my hands, alone in my darkened classroom, I just sobbed.   

And for a moment, I believed that the state was right.  I was just effective.  I would never want an "effective" doctor.  I would never want an "effective" pilot.  I would want the best for me, and my loved ones, and I want the best for my students.  This equation made me question myself, and whether or not I was best for my students. 

And then I remembered sitting on the pink velour chair, and knowing in my heart that I was meant to teach.  I remembered getting my first job, and knowing that I had finally found my soul mate - teaching.  I remembered that I am an individual that is willing to learn how to be better, but will also stand up for what I believe.  Most importantly, I remembered the 25 faces that sit before me each and every single day, whom need a teacher who believes in herself, and is confident in her teaching. 

I will take my score, and my label, from NYS.  I will read about my confidence interval and how that changes the scores, and follow the arrows on the flow chart, to eventually lead to my label.  But, I will not let this define me.  I will not let a highly ineffective group of non-educators decide who I am - not today, or any day.  I will continue to do research and inquiry into best teaching practices.  I will continue to be reflective about what my students need.  I will be a teacher who develops every single day because that is what we SHOULD do, rather than putting that label on an evaluation with negative connotation.  Shouldn't we all, as professionals in all areas, be developing every single day?  I will take the words "highly effective, effective, developing, and ineffective" out of my vocabulary, and choose to find words that describe me as an educator, just as I do my students. 

I encourage accountability.  I don't believe teachers should be immune to being held to a standard.  However, speak to the professionals.  Hear our words.  Listen and debate with us, rather than against us.  Meet our students - see these children.  Find out where they come from, and not just their standardized test scores.  Ask parents what they want for their children in life, and how you can assist.  Ask educators what we need to see the improvements necessary - we will be very honest.  Set standards for all associated with children.  Acknowledge the facts about literacy in the early years, before children even enter our school system. 

I encourage you, Governor Cuomo - come into my classroom.  Come speak to our teachers.  We don't want to be your target, we want to work together and possibly even be a team.  Didn't anyone tell you that it takes a village to raise a child?  Certainly not just a teacher. 

A Child's Words Can Change The World: The Journey of Teaching Activism to 6th Graders

There is nothing more invigorating for a teacher than a child who is passionate about what they are learning.  Standing back in a classroom filled with chatter about students' topics, curriculum, or learning inspires each teacher to continue that excitement day after day.  Unfortunately, as every teacher knows (or any person whom has attended school), our best laid plans and intentions do not always come to fruition, and the energy of one day does not guarantee eager to learn the next.  My hope over our extended December vacation was to come back with a writing unit that would engage all students for an extended period of research, writing, and learning.   Isn't that every teacher's hope, at every opportunity, during the year?  But that time to think, and reflect, and panic, and research brought me to an article that inspired me as an educator to further inspire my students.

Digital Magazine: It's Called Stress 

Digital Magazine: Violent Video Games: Why We Don't Need Them 

After much time thinking, reflecting, and panicking I came across an article on the National Writing Project website.  "Ten Ideas That Get Kids Writing": http://www.nwp.org/cs/public/print/resource/nwp/ten-ideas.html  It was in this article that I read about a young girl whom had been struggling with Anorexia.  She wrote about her journey with this disease and wanted to ensure that other students did not go through the same experience.  It sat with me - that message that a child's words can change the world.  I had often told my students of this important message, but rarely had I given them the opportunity to truly practice.  This needed to be more than an entry or a final draft they created just for me, but there needed to be a way to share this message with the world.  It amazes me how as a creator, and that's what we are as educators - a creator of lessons, once you are inspired you feel this overwhelming excitement and desire to keep going.

Digital Magazine: The Importance of Individuality and Listening to Within, Not Around

Digital Magazine: Is Football Too Dangerous?

We embarked on the first day back creating lists and short entries about things in the world we wanted to change.  I was beyond impressed by the variety of answers.  Everything from animal abuse to school stress to (my personal favorite due to the sheer humor and innocence) "Boys with long hair.  I mean seriously... What are they trying to say?!"  I reflected with them on the importance of their voice, and the next day we defined the word activism/activist as a class.  For quite some time I had been talking, fruitlessly, about being a "passive learner" - this was the perfect opportunity to reflect on wanting to change the world, or watching the world change.  This was the perfect opportunity to teaching them all of the reasons why their voices matter.

Digital Magazine: Inclusion 

Digital Magazine: School Vacations 

The librarian/media specialist and I gave the students the freedom to select their own topics, responsibly.  This invokes some natural elementary school teacher fear, as it often requires the move from database searching to true Google searching.  However, these students live in a world where technology is in their faces all of the time, and at some point we have to teach them to search responsibly.  Our students spent a couple of weeks researching their topics on the databases, and those that couldn't find enough supportive information, were taught how to "Google responsibly".  The librarian and I closely monitored their progress, and bounced important lessons off of one another and the students. 

Digital Magazine: Is Texting Killing The English Language? 

Digital Magazine: Negative Effects of Standardized Testing 

The second struggle was WHAT to do with these pieces.  It was important to me that they not only feel that they had a voice, but that they understood that other people would hear their voices - that's how you change the world.  And so I found glossi.com.  While I'm sure glossi.com never intended on being a website for educational purposes, it became clear that it was very user-friendly and, better yet, it was free.

Digital Magazine: School Food: Brilliant or Bust? 

Digital Magazine: Bullying

We had previously created a singular GMail account where each student had their own folder on google docs and created any writing that moved through the drafting process.  This made it most easy for my co-teacher and me to revise and conference with students online.  We had the opportunity to offer feedback, students had the opportunity to make revisions, and we instantly knew which students we needed to check-in with at the start of class.  Google docs had given me a sense of sanity during our fiction unit (where sixth graders often feel compelled to write a novel), and was once again one of the most useful tools in my writing class.  Drafting began, online conferencing ensued, and I felt like I had a grasp on the progress of each of my students.  In ten years of teaching, I have never been able to say that I had an understanding of the status of all students during a writing assignment.  Google docs has changed that for me as an educator, and more importantly, for my students.  It was easy to determine where students needed more research, more voice, grammar and punctuation assistance, etc. 

Digital Magazine: The Moments of Silence Needed for Many Of Our World

Digital Magazine: Benefits of Recess 

As soon as we began drafting, I did a brief lesson on how the glossi.com account worked.  I explained to the students that I was showing them the most basic steps in creating the digital magazine, but that they were really going to need to play with the site to figure things out.  In the initial presentation I gave them assigned pages for the layout; these were later taken away as I saw that by giving them a minimum I was ensuring that most students would only do the bare minimum.  By broadening the assignment, and giving them many options, many students pushed themselves beyond what I had originally assigned.  In addition, taking more time to research, write, and revise encouraged the students to really focus on the message for the reader, and take more pride in this assignment than your typical research project completed in sixth grade.  As students asked me questions about the site I often sent them to another classmate for help, or told them it was their job to play around with the site until they figured it out.  (Part of this was because of my lack of knowledge within the site, and part of this was teaching this practical technique).  When more than one student expressed a fear of making a mistake, I explained that there is always a back button, and that sometimes you have to make a mistake to learn how to do something correctly.  To this day, I don't know how one student made his cover page of soldiers' hats move, or another made his background shimmer an orange sunset, but I watched them teach their classmates and I watched them motivated to make their digital magazine the best.

Digital Magazine: Gender Equality 

Digital Magazine: Dogs Being Outlawed 

As in all units, and teaching, nothing is perfect.  While we spent a lot of time having them document their resources on their bibliography, in the future we will need to spend more time having them accurately quoting where their research was received.  Also, a skill that I continue to struggle teaching, and the students continue to struggle learning is putting things into their own words.  At the age of twelve this seems to be a hard skill to maintain throughout the whole piece.  These will be skills and strategies I will work toward improving throughout the rest of this year, and figure how to address when I complete this assignment with next year's students.  With that being said, my favorite moments in teaching continue to be the moments when my students' motivation to learn exceeds the hand holding and teacher-driven instruction they are so accustomed to at this young age.  Teaching them that their words matter and can change the world is the first step in giving them a sense of power through the written language.         

All In A Day's Work - The Emotional Rollercoaster We Call Teaching

Please excuse the bullets that have become my writing on this day.  They seem to be the best way to express the emotional roller coaster that is called teaching nowadays.  This is the just the surface of today, as I would never feel comfortable really disclosing the tough days of my students.  In teaching we have to be very respectful of their confidentiality and privacy.  If you don't feel like reading the whole page, scroll to the bottom - that's the best part. 

• Writing is cancelled today because today is the day that the students receive exposure to German.  Normally this would be frustrating to me, but as I listen to this amazing teacher (that is only in the building for 6 weeks - 4 at this time) speak in only German I am touched by the way the students respond.  They follow her every move, stand up and sing the alphabet and other songs, and really respond to her.  I am reminded of the value my school district puts on multi-culturalism and developing the whole student.

• As a grant proposal my class was granted 5 I-Pads yesterday - I don't know who is more excited me or the kids.  Probably me.  The students divide into groups based on the math concepts they have struggled with the most, and begin to create flipped-learning videos on the app Educreations.  Their goal is to teach other students how to solve these most difficult concepts, while teaching themselves.  It was in this moment I realized how ineffective the binder system was this year, despite the fact the pages are meant to come out of the text.  Oops!  Guess I need a better system next year.

•  I begin to explain to the students that they have earned their award for our behavior management system and we will have a PJ/Breakfast party.  I anticipated telling my students the menu: pancakes, bacon, fruit salad, and donuts, and receiving great appreciation.  Never did I expect them to put in requests: "Can you make chocolate pancakes?"  "I would like pineapple."  "How about I bring in waffles instead?"  Ummm... How about thank you?  I explained to them that I was sad, and they had made me feel very unappreciative - when someone is doing something kind, and being generous, you just say "Thank You."  I thought the message was clear - I was wrong.  

• Every year we hold a "field day" much like other schools.  It was later in the day that I heard some of my students complaining about the events from the previous year.  I stood there appalled.  I once again explained that "field day" was a privilege and many teachers, myself included, had worked hard to plan that day.  We discussed that while they may not have loved every event, sometimes it is better to just be appreciative for what you are given.

• These last two bullets lead to this a version of this conversation (lecture):  "You know I love each of you very much, but today as a class I was sad.  I have made a decision to continue with the PJ Party and movie time, but I will not be buying and making you breakfast.  You may bring in your own small snack for yourself during that time, but I do not feel very much like giving you anymore than what you already have inside of this classroom.  I am here to teach the whole student, and this lesson is different than the typical math, writing, or reading lesson.  I am sorry to those of you whom appreciated from the very beginning."   One student raised his hand an apologized, while the others sat very serious.  What I love about my students is that they listened, but they didn't seem upset with me... It was like they knew it was coming. :)

• At the very end of the day a former student walked into my room.  I hadn't seen her in years, and now that she was in 11th grade it was fun to just catch-up with her.  She got tears in her eyes when I said I was engaged, and we spent a lot of time talking about the joys of being an aunt.  Her visit touched a place in my heart, and I was once again reminded how lucky I am to be able to watch these amazing people grow beyond my classroom.

• And now for one of my TOP favorite moments in the last ten years:  As this young women walked with me toward my next meeting, an additional former student was waiting for me.  He gave me a big hug, and said "I came to invite you to something.  What are you doing May 18th?"  I told him I wasn't sure and it may be a bridal shower off of the top of my head.  He looked at me and said, "I wanted to invite you to hear me sing at Carnegie Hall."  I don't think there are words to express the moment when you know one of your "kids" is doing something above and beyond the norm, and even greater when they include you in the moments. 

Most days in teaching are a roller coaster.  You watch the kid who doesn't get food at home, and know that his only meal is the one for breakfast or lunch in the school... The kids who wear all of the name brands, but are just screaming for attention at home, or at school... The ones who could care less about education, or just want to play video games/ or sports... You watch the kid fighting off the urge to cut, or flip the desk, because life is harder for him/her than the rest... The one who sails into the school day always trying their best... And the one who struggles just fighting off and covering their disability.  And you teach them all with love.
But every once in a while, you end up with a visit from Carnegie Hall.  

Teaching Has Saved Me

On more than one occasion teaching has saved my life.  In those moments when I found it hard to breath, to get out of bed and face life, I have walked into my classroom and forgotten the outside world.  When my heart has been smashed into small pieces, or those that I loved have disappeared from my life... When I have been beyond disappointed in myself, or couldn't stand my own thoughts... Teaching has saved me. 

This was not that different just a few weeks ago.  I was in a place where I couldn't understand life, and was hurt, angry, and frustrated with fate for taking a friend, and piece of my future, from my life.  I was overwhelmed with concern for my future husband, as he had suddenly lost a best friend whom was more like a brother.

I spent more than one day looking through my students, unable to really listen to their words, and understand the conversations.  I was going through the motions of teaching - something I don't believe in, and yet we've all experienced.  I vividly remember a friend saying, "How were your kids today?" and I was befuddled.  I didn't have an answer, except to say honestly, "I don't know.  I mean I guess they were fine, but I don't really know what happened today."  What I love about teaching sixth graders is the honesty we can have with one another.  My students knew that a dear friend had passed, and were sensitive to the time and space I needed.  Telling them the truth, and requesting from them some patience and understanding (as well as good behavior and hard work) really allowed me to take care of what I needed to in my personal life.  I wasn't able to see their concern for me in those moments, but it came through in the days that passed. 

They asked if they could help me pick out the substitute that would be teaching in the days that followed (partly because they do not like having substitutes, and partly because they knew they would behave and have fun if it was someone they like).  When I returned from two and a half days out ( 1.5 for services, .5 for a meeting), one student asked if I was his teacher again.  When I smiled and nodded, he wrapped his arms around me (in a hallway of about 65 sixth graders) and told me he was so glad I was back.  It is in those moments that teaching saves me from my own thinking.  It is in those moments that I can breathe again. 

We dismissed early that day, and the next day was a potential snow day that led to an extended vacation.  It was hard for me to wrap my head around saying goodbye to them for the vacation after so few hours together, and still deal with the world outside the school building.  As I took a deep breath, and walked toward my desk, I noticed an envelope on my desk with a note on the outside:

Dear Miss Sisto, 

Your students were very worried about you, and wanted to write you some notes.  So sorry to hear of your friend.   Try to enjoy your vacation.

Nancy

Nancy is our building support teacher, so she is familiar and loves all of the staff and students at our school.  I smiled with tears in my eyes knowing this had come from not only her, but my co-teacher whom had been checking in on me all week.  This was exactly what I needed.  I packed it in my bag, eager to get home from the never-ending snow falling outside the windows.  I needed to be in my own home, and in my own space, before I read any of these letters.  

I don't have to explain how or why teaching saved me in this moment, because there are simply no words.  It's all in the letters. Take a look below and you'll understand.  I write this with one disclaimer: Walk away from reading this article with the understanding that these letters aren't about ME.  These are letters each educator that listens and loves their students receives.