Good thing blogging isn't my career, because I'd be drowning in even MORE debt if it was. (Grad school, betchez, I mean really $$$$$$$$$). Anyways, I know what I said. Blah blah blah "I'm going to blog every week this year!" Blah blah blah "Hannah, you should document your experiences more often..." blah blah blah "I'm going to commit to my blog this year..." yeah yeah yeah. Okay. So follow-through was not my strong suit here. Or we could just say that follow-through got left behind in Minnesota when I moved back down here. My bad. I SAID MY BAD. (anna, lydia, nicole)
Well it's February 2015 and things they are a-happenin round these parts. To spare you the details, my fall semester started out SO GREAT....and then derailed quicker than ever. What FRESH HELL my friends. FRESH HELL. I can't pinpoint when it all started to go downhill, and I don't think I want to, because then I'd have to relive it. It was pretty much a repeat of last fall semester (aka first year all over again) only my pride was too big for me to give myself any slack. I went from 16 kids to 25-28 kids, and co-teaching with two very veteran teachers who held the first grade together to being the "veteran" teacher (WHAT A JOKE). The achievement gap hit me harder than ever when I welcomed 51 first graders, over half of which were still reading at a pre-k level. So there I was, faced with the challenge of getting these students to grow almost two years (or more) in 10 months. I will not lie and say I took on this challenge with ease and grace. No no. A lot of tears were shed. A lot disappointing feedback, disappointing results, personal frustration, and near-quitting. A lot of support, both for overcoming and for giving up. ("These kids deserve better than me" was my mantra.) There are plenty of reasons that it all happened, and sometimes I wonder, if I had just stayed in Minnesota and not thrown myself into this stressful and challenging situation, what would my mental health look like? (Because, folks, mental health has been on a downward spiral in this household. ROUGH.) But then I have those moments where I'm driving down a country road listening to country music with the 60 degree wind blowing through my windows at the end of January, and watch the spark when my kids realize that, WOW, they CAN read...or that one of my lowest, intervention, 2nd-time-in-first-grade, should-we-get-him-tested students got a B on our last test...a B my friends. THAT IS PASSING. HE GOT A B. HE SPELLED 80 PERCENT OF THE WORDS CORRECTLY. HE COULD HARDLY WRITE HIS OWN NAME BEFORE. Those are the moments that remind me. I'm here to teach them. But I'm also here to learn. And learn I have.
So with that update, here are the two things I'll write about today. They are two very different things: one from my personal life and one from school.
1. "Get out of my face with your ugly white face with its ugly brown polka dots before I break it." Said a six year old. To me. One of my students. One of my smartest students. One of my students that is too smart for her own good. Why did she say that, you ask? Because she was hurting another student and her clip was on "parent contact," so I sent a note home about her behavior. As soon as I handed her the note, it began.
"I don't care about your doggone note you ugly white faced teacher. With your ugly white face and your ugly brown polka dots. Better get that ugly white polka face outta mine before I break it. Walk your ugly white tail away from me. Ugly white teacher."
So that happened. I mean, students have said terrible things to me before, as many of you know. They usually are pretty harmless like calling me a "bald head" (not bald--not offended) or saying "I hate this school" (well I'm not too fond of you right now either, thanks for asking). But this was the first time it was actually directed AT ME and my skin color. Like she thought (knew?) the biggest thing she could insult would be the color of my skin. I don't know if I handled it the right way. I was shocked. I knew if I responded, she would escalate. It was the end of the day, she was leaving, so I ignored it. She kept yelling (six years old) and I kept ignoring. She got on the bus, I cried a little. Other teachers told me I should write her up. She needs to be suspended, go to ISD, get a paddling, whatever. You can't talk to teachers that way. I don't know if I made the right choice, but after going home and sleeping on it, I decided not to write her up. She had just gotten back from a two week suspension (not my problem, I know, but still). I wanted to talk to her about it instead of just get mad. So when she came in the next morning I pulled her aside. She knew. I simply said "You wanna talk to me about what you said to me yesterday?" She said "I called you polka dots." I said, "What else?" She didn't want to answer. It was morning, I was feeling patient, I waited. "What else did you call me? Polka dot what?" "White." "How do you think that made me feel?" "Sad." "Really sad. Why did you say it?" "Because you gave me a bad note." "Did it make it better, calling me those things?" Etc. (I won't type the whole conversation, because it was long and complicated and sad.) I don't know if it was the right thing, people, and it's certainly not how I always handle these situations, but I'm telling you, this girl was better behaved that day than she has ever been. RESPECTFUL. Was it the Lutheran, Mid-Western, Scandinavian, Susan-Forster style guilt that I had inflicted? Or did I get through to her? I don't know. But it made me realize that I definitely need to be having more talks about culture, race, identity, and ACCEPTANCE with my students. I still don't have the answer.
On a lighter note, here's the second thing I want to write about. FRESH START FEBRUARY. As many of you know, I live with four other girls, so five total, (and three dogs...yep, sorority house dog pound style, y'all). And when one of us slumps, we all slump. So when I say my fall was bad, I'm telling you, I was not alone. Just like last year, we took turns talking each other off the ledge. "I'm quitting." "I don't want to go." "Don't make me." I won't pretend this job is easy. It's SO HARD. But we also sometimes forget how lucky we have it. We have a home. With heat. We are all healthy. Our dogs (that are literally the cutest things ever) are healthy and happy. We have cars (new cars, at that). We can afford to travel. We eat well. We have friends and family who love us and support us. I mean, gosh darn it, we have JOBS. But sometimes, when test scores are bad, students are telling you they hate you, your faculty doesn't think you can do it, you feel like you've hit a wall, and the only thing you see is the dry and empty field behind your house, this place can feel absolutely miserable.
And when things feel miserable, we start acting miserable. Mental health, and overall health has lost place as a priority in our house lately. So we have decided that, as a house, we are going to get back on track. We are cooking healthier meals. We are going to walk the dogs more (for longer amounts of time, at a quicker pace, more than once a day). We are going to take a break from the alcohol (because, believe it or not, drinking a whole bottle of wine right after getting home school because a six year old said you look pregnant is NOT a healthy coping mechanism). We are starting a healthy meals initiative. (We cook together every night, and I'll tell you our meal plan for this week in a bit.) We are tracking it, like good, data-driven teachers, and we are setting goals. It's not a diet. It's about more than weight and fitness. It's about living a healthy lifestyle. Weight and numbers are not the ultimate goal here (though a few pounds disappearing wouldn't make me upset, am I right?). Mental, emotional, and spiritual health are the goal. So I'd like to try to blog about that. (We'll see what happens. Clearly I'm not in a position to make promises.)
So here's what week one of healthy meal initiative looks like:
Sunday: Vegetarian Chilli (thanks Christina)
Monday: Rice and Beans with Cornbread
Tuesday: Tacos (we hope....RIGHT ALICIA?_
Wednesday: Spaghetti Squash Eggplant Parmesan
Thursday: Veggie Pasta
I know it's not "salad salad salad." But I didn't say we don't eat salad. We live on salad. We LOVE salad. Sometimes it's all we eat. But we are trying to incorporate more health into big full meals too. Not just salad. Today Christina and I took the dogs on a 52 minute walk (we timed it, yes). When I got bored and wanted to eat ranch dip, I didn't (self-control in the making, my friends). And tomorrow we'll do it again. Health teachers=happy students. Happy students=happy teachers. Happy teachers=happy home. Worth it.
Have a great week everyone!
xox
Well it's February 2015 and things they are a-happenin round these parts. To spare you the details, my fall semester started out SO GREAT....and then derailed quicker than ever. What FRESH HELL my friends. FRESH HELL. I can't pinpoint when it all started to go downhill, and I don't think I want to, because then I'd have to relive it. It was pretty much a repeat of last fall semester (aka first year all over again) only my pride was too big for me to give myself any slack. I went from 16 kids to 25-28 kids, and co-teaching with two very veteran teachers who held the first grade together to being the "veteran" teacher (WHAT A JOKE). The achievement gap hit me harder than ever when I welcomed 51 first graders, over half of which were still reading at a pre-k level. So there I was, faced with the challenge of getting these students to grow almost two years (or more) in 10 months. I will not lie and say I took on this challenge with ease and grace. No no. A lot of tears were shed. A lot disappointing feedback, disappointing results, personal frustration, and near-quitting. A lot of support, both for overcoming and for giving up. ("These kids deserve better than me" was my mantra.) There are plenty of reasons that it all happened, and sometimes I wonder, if I had just stayed in Minnesota and not thrown myself into this stressful and challenging situation, what would my mental health look like? (Because, folks, mental health has been on a downward spiral in this household. ROUGH.) But then I have those moments where I'm driving down a country road listening to country music with the 60 degree wind blowing through my windows at the end of January, and watch the spark when my kids realize that, WOW, they CAN read...or that one of my lowest, intervention, 2nd-time-in-first-grade, should-we-get-him-tested students got a B on our last test...a B my friends. THAT IS PASSING. HE GOT A B. HE SPELLED 80 PERCENT OF THE WORDS CORRECTLY. HE COULD HARDLY WRITE HIS OWN NAME BEFORE. Those are the moments that remind me. I'm here to teach them. But I'm also here to learn. And learn I have.
So with that update, here are the two things I'll write about today. They are two very different things: one from my personal life and one from school.
1. "Get out of my face with your ugly white face with its ugly brown polka dots before I break it." Said a six year old. To me. One of my students. One of my smartest students. One of my students that is too smart for her own good. Why did she say that, you ask? Because she was hurting another student and her clip was on "parent contact," so I sent a note home about her behavior. As soon as I handed her the note, it began.
"I don't care about your doggone note you ugly white faced teacher. With your ugly white face and your ugly brown polka dots. Better get that ugly white polka face outta mine before I break it. Walk your ugly white tail away from me. Ugly white teacher."
So that happened. I mean, students have said terrible things to me before, as many of you know. They usually are pretty harmless like calling me a "bald head" (not bald--not offended) or saying "I hate this school" (well I'm not too fond of you right now either, thanks for asking). But this was the first time it was actually directed AT ME and my skin color. Like she thought (knew?) the biggest thing she could insult would be the color of my skin. I don't know if I handled it the right way. I was shocked. I knew if I responded, she would escalate. It was the end of the day, she was leaving, so I ignored it. She kept yelling (six years old) and I kept ignoring. She got on the bus, I cried a little. Other teachers told me I should write her up. She needs to be suspended, go to ISD, get a paddling, whatever. You can't talk to teachers that way. I don't know if I made the right choice, but after going home and sleeping on it, I decided not to write her up. She had just gotten back from a two week suspension (not my problem, I know, but still). I wanted to talk to her about it instead of just get mad. So when she came in the next morning I pulled her aside. She knew. I simply said "You wanna talk to me about what you said to me yesterday?" She said "I called you polka dots." I said, "What else?" She didn't want to answer. It was morning, I was feeling patient, I waited. "What else did you call me? Polka dot what?" "White." "How do you think that made me feel?" "Sad." "Really sad. Why did you say it?" "Because you gave me a bad note." "Did it make it better, calling me those things?" Etc. (I won't type the whole conversation, because it was long and complicated and sad.) I don't know if it was the right thing, people, and it's certainly not how I always handle these situations, but I'm telling you, this girl was better behaved that day than she has ever been. RESPECTFUL. Was it the Lutheran, Mid-Western, Scandinavian, Susan-Forster style guilt that I had inflicted? Or did I get through to her? I don't know. But it made me realize that I definitely need to be having more talks about culture, race, identity, and ACCEPTANCE with my students. I still don't have the answer.
On a lighter note, here's the second thing I want to write about. FRESH START FEBRUARY. As many of you know, I live with four other girls, so five total, (and three dogs...yep, sorority house dog pound style, y'all). And when one of us slumps, we all slump. So when I say my fall was bad, I'm telling you, I was not alone. Just like last year, we took turns talking each other off the ledge. "I'm quitting." "I don't want to go." "Don't make me." I won't pretend this job is easy. It's SO HARD. But we also sometimes forget how lucky we have it. We have a home. With heat. We are all healthy. Our dogs (that are literally the cutest things ever) are healthy and happy. We have cars (new cars, at that). We can afford to travel. We eat well. We have friends and family who love us and support us. I mean, gosh darn it, we have JOBS. But sometimes, when test scores are bad, students are telling you they hate you, your faculty doesn't think you can do it, you feel like you've hit a wall, and the only thing you see is the dry and empty field behind your house, this place can feel absolutely miserable.
And when things feel miserable, we start acting miserable. Mental health, and overall health has lost place as a priority in our house lately. So we have decided that, as a house, we are going to get back on track. We are cooking healthier meals. We are going to walk the dogs more (for longer amounts of time, at a quicker pace, more than once a day). We are going to take a break from the alcohol (because, believe it or not, drinking a whole bottle of wine right after getting home school because a six year old said you look pregnant is NOT a healthy coping mechanism). We are starting a healthy meals initiative. (We cook together every night, and I'll tell you our meal plan for this week in a bit.) We are tracking it, like good, data-driven teachers, and we are setting goals. It's not a diet. It's about more than weight and fitness. It's about living a healthy lifestyle. Weight and numbers are not the ultimate goal here (though a few pounds disappearing wouldn't make me upset, am I right?). Mental, emotional, and spiritual health are the goal. So I'd like to try to blog about that. (We'll see what happens. Clearly I'm not in a position to make promises.)
So here's what week one of healthy meal initiative looks like:
Sunday: Vegetarian Chilli (thanks Christina)
Monday: Rice and Beans with Cornbread
Tuesday: Tacos (we hope....RIGHT ALICIA?_
Wednesday: Spaghetti Squash Eggplant Parmesan
Thursday: Veggie Pasta
I know it's not "salad salad salad." But I didn't say we don't eat salad. We live on salad. We LOVE salad. Sometimes it's all we eat. But we are trying to incorporate more health into big full meals too. Not just salad. Today Christina and I took the dogs on a 52 minute walk (we timed it, yes). When I got bored and wanted to eat ranch dip, I didn't (self-control in the making, my friends). And tomorrow we'll do it again. Health teachers=happy students. Happy students=happy teachers. Happy teachers=happy home. Worth it.
Have a great week everyone!
xox
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