The other day I was eating dinner with several teachers from school. Somehow the topic of clothes came up and a few of us started giving giving Mrs. Sixth Grade a hard time about her outfits.
Previously, I had deduced that the teacher sweater must be a symptom of PTSD, or Post Teaching Stress Disorder. I thought once you go teacher sweater you are gone forever, your sanity lost to the trenches of education. However, I am here today to announce that I may be a teensy incorrect, or possibly totally wrong.
Mrs. Sixth Grade explained that she loves dressing up for school. It's not about looking cool or professional or nice or even comfortable.
"So what's it about?" I asked, thinking of her pencil earrings, holiday themed sweaters, #1 teacher brooches, and apple pendant necklaces.
"Well, I would never get to dress this way in real life. School is just a pretend world. Everything there is make believe! You can wear anything you want and all the fun stuff because it's totally just a costume. I would never dress that way in the real world, yuck! Haha. Yeah... I like wearing fun costumes to school. It's all pretend."
So there you have it folks. The teacher sweater: it's just make believe.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Spring Sing: Part 4, the performance
If you feel so inclined, check out the rest of my spring sing posts:
And that brings us to Part Four: The Performance.
Last night a few of my friends were kind enough to watch the DVD of my spring sing with me. They even said nice things because they are contractually obligated to. As I was watching it I realized there was now proof of my first year of teaching and my first year of attempting something that I really had no idea how to do. I really did make a bunch of kids show up and sing songs and some of them even liked it and most of them really did learn a lot about music.
When I first arrived at the high school where we were performing, I nearly turned around and left. All I saw were lockers and little cliques of teenagers hanging out after school and posters advertising prom tickets. I started to sweat and my heart rate skyrocket. Oh god, I'm in high school, oh god, they're looking at me, oh no, oh no eeesh what have I done? And the lockers were everywhere and the sound of them slamming echoed in my ears as I walked through the campus, awkwardly carrying my music stand and my bag of recorders. A few teachers popped their heads out their doors at the sound of my heels clicking down the halls and even then I felt like an idiot, but I just kept willing myself to keep walking, as if I could escape the mania of grades 9-12.
Can you believe there are teachers out there who willing teach in such a place? Ugh! There will never be a day that I teach high school. That's a promise.
Luckily once I found the amphitheater I relaxed. Soon enough kids and families and my principal showed up. The sound guy had everything taken care of, the video guys had their stuff done, I was meeting family after family, and the PTA was selling seats in the first three rows for $10 a pop. Can you believe Mrs. PTA President didn't even give me a commission on that? I figure at $10/seat x 60 seats we must have rolled in $600 bucks. And don't get me started on the sixth grade bake sale. I know I didn't get them a food sales permit for the concert!
I suppose it's good to bring in money. I suppose the kids need it to do cool things, like hire a music teacher and art is cool too. I suppose. Hmph.
The show started and I was grateful for my principal who MCed the whole thing. Each grade came on the stage and sang their bit. It was very simple. Children came onto the stage, sang their two songs with me in front modeling their motions and looking like a goon, and then the kids left while the new grade came on the stage. Kinders, then first, second, and before I knew it fifth was leaving the stage and sixth was up and we were almost done! Then I put the whole school on the stage for the finale and after 80 short minutes, my entire year was over. Just like that, my first year of teaching ended. I said goodbye to 500 kids with one giant wave and high-fives with the 6th graders. No one fell off the risers. No one backed out of singing their solo. Not one parent yelled at me (though some would have liked to.) My principal didn't forget my name. It didn't rain and nothing caught on fire. It was awesome.
My first year teaching was everything that I hoped it would be. I don't know what my plans are for next year. But I do know that I'm ready to try again. Bring it.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Spring Sing: Part 3, song choice
Sorry for the delay! Life happens. Blogging gets put to the back burner.
You can read part 1 here and part 2 here
Part 3: song choice
During my job interview, my principal asked me "How do you feel about pop music?"
I told her I thought it was great. I thought pop music was the way to keep music in our schools, and that keeping music relevant and connected to our kids would bridge the gap between real world learning and school learning. I told her I thought it was our place as educators to make careful choices about lyrics and artists such that we're choosing age appropriate pop, but ultimately I liked the idea of incorporating music kids were already listening to into the curriculum in addition to the various genres we already studied.
Was that the right answer? Who knows. It was my answer and it was in sync with how my principal felt so I got the job. It's also the attitude that had so many people talking about me and the songs I picked after the spring sing.
Some of the artists we sang were:
Elvis
Journey
The Beatles
Michael Jackson
Green Day
Natasha Bedingfield
Owl City
We sang the real versions of the songs done by the real artists. There were no "kiddie" versions dumbed down or rearranged. We rocked the house. I had third graders moonwalking across the stage and sixth graders belting out like they never felt self conscious in their lives (ok at least most of them).
My secret formula? Sing songs kids like and songs parents approve of. And that you like.
When I had three classes per grade level practicing each song two times each week for ten weeks, I listened to each song about forty-five times. Probably more when you count the recesses and lunches I spent working with soloists. So yeah, I picked songs I like.
I fretted for weeks about what songs to sing. I worried about the lyrics and the key and the length and the rhythms and balance of female and male artists. In the end I had all my songs approved by the principal and I sent copies of the lyrics to each teacher (lest anyone have the chance to complain they "didn't know" we were singing that) and I still worried someone would say something.
It turns out people sure did have lots to say. Most of what they said to my face was good though!
They said "you sure picked fun songs" and "wow those are songs from the radio" and "hey wasn't that song on Glee" and "Isn't that from American Idol" and "my kid loves that song I can't get him to stop singing it" and "I don't really like Michael Jackson, I know what he did!" and "Is Natasha Bedingfield really Rock N Roll" and "my kids know these songs from playing Rock Band" and "I'm so glad you're singing real songs now."
Hey, at least I gave people something to talk about.
Part 3: song choice
During my job interview, my principal asked me "How do you feel about pop music?"
I told her I thought it was great. I thought pop music was the way to keep music in our schools, and that keeping music relevant and connected to our kids would bridge the gap between real world learning and school learning. I told her I thought it was our place as educators to make careful choices about lyrics and artists such that we're choosing age appropriate pop, but ultimately I liked the idea of incorporating music kids were already listening to into the curriculum in addition to the various genres we already studied.
Was that the right answer? Who knows. It was my answer and it was in sync with how my principal felt so I got the job. It's also the attitude that had so many people talking about me and the songs I picked after the spring sing.
Some of the artists we sang were:
Elvis
Journey
The Beatles
Michael Jackson
Green Day
Natasha Bedingfield
Owl City
We sang the real versions of the songs done by the real artists. There were no "kiddie" versions dumbed down or rearranged. We rocked the house. I had third graders moonwalking across the stage and sixth graders belting out like they never felt self conscious in their lives (ok at least most of them).
My secret formula? Sing songs kids like and songs parents approve of. And that you like.
When I had three classes per grade level practicing each song two times each week for ten weeks, I listened to each song about forty-five times. Probably more when you count the recesses and lunches I spent working with soloists. So yeah, I picked songs I like.
Well songs I liked. I like them less now. A lot less.
I fretted for weeks about what songs to sing. I worried about the lyrics and the key and the length and the rhythms and balance of female and male artists. In the end I had all my songs approved by the principal and I sent copies of the lyrics to each teacher (lest anyone have the chance to complain they "didn't know" we were singing that) and I still worried someone would say something.
It turns out people sure did have lots to say. Most of what they said to my face was good though!
They said "you sure picked fun songs" and "wow those are songs from the radio" and "hey wasn't that song on Glee" and "Isn't that from American Idol" and "my kid loves that song I can't get him to stop singing it" and "I don't really like Michael Jackson, I know what he did!" and "Is Natasha Bedingfield really Rock N Roll" and "my kids know these songs from playing Rock Band" and "I'm so glad you're singing real songs now."
Hey, at least I gave people something to talk about.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Happy Birthday, Mr. Awesome!!
Today is Mr. Awesome's birthday!!!
He's spending the day working on his dissertation, boo!
Happy Birthday, Mr. Awesome. May none of your future birthdays be this lame. Ever.
He's spending the day working on his dissertation, boo!
Happy Birthday, Mr. Awesome. May none of your future birthdays be this lame. Ever.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Spring Sing: Part 2, my worries
You can read part 1 here
I really like to worry. I'm a professional. And boy, before the Spring Sing, did I ramp up my worrying. It was (like all worrying) completely wasteful.
About a week before the performance I made the call to "go green" and skip printing programs. Why waste 500 pieces of paper that would just end up on the ground, only to be picked up by unpaid staff at the end of the night? My pal (the principal) loved the idea. Save paper, save time, save backs. A few teachers warned me I would have angry parents about the lack of programs. I worried about this but no one complained.
I had also made the call to dress the kids in blue jeans and white tops. I knew we were performing outside and I knew families were feeling the recession as much as I was. Some people warned me that parents are used to their kids being more dressed up for the event. I worried. No one complained. Actually I got a lot of compliments on the outfits because "it was so easy and it looked so good." Of course in each grade I had a few green dresses and red shirts, but who cares? These are just little kids! Let the high school teachers be picky about uniforms. But still, right up until show time I worried about the outfits.
Now for me... I am the teacher who wears jeans every day. I stand on linoleum, not carpet so I also wear tennis shoes. I never, ever, wear skirts or dresses. I hate them. So of course for the Spring Sing I bought a super girly pink floral print dress with a black cardigan. I told all the kids who commented that it was because Spring Sing was a really special occasion. I had more than one little boy say shyly "Mrs. Awesome, you look really pretty." Oh dear. Watch out, Mr. Awesome. I think some of my heart went to the five year olds in room KA. Before the spring sing I had worried almost nightly about what I would wear and if it would be ok. Turns out I did just fine.
Coming up towards the big event I also wasn't sure how the sound was going to work. I have never really operated a sound board before nor could I see how I would run one while modeling hand motions and dance motions for the little guys on the stage. Also I didn't know if we would even have big speakers or electricity. I worried and worried and worried about this issue. I called and bugged and emailed until finally my principal made one magic phone call. It turns out we had a parent at our school who does sound stuff for his church and he came and saved the day. Whew. In the end I didn't even have to plug in anything.
I also worried about video. We let a professional company record our performance, then they make DVDs and sell them. It's a great fundraiser for our school. However I didn't know if I needed to schedule it, sign papers, write a contract... or?? But sure enough, two days before the performance, the guy calls me and everything is taken care of.
So basically, everything I worried about came together and, in the end, had viable solutions. How wasteful worrying seems after we find the solution, huh?
Next up... Song Choices (or why most contestants get kicked off American Idol)
I really like to worry. I'm a professional. And boy, before the Spring Sing, did I ramp up my worrying. It was (like all worrying) completely wasteful.
About a week before the performance I made the call to "go green" and skip printing programs. Why waste 500 pieces of paper that would just end up on the ground, only to be picked up by unpaid staff at the end of the night? My pal (the principal) loved the idea. Save paper, save time, save backs. A few teachers warned me I would have angry parents about the lack of programs. I worried about this but no one complained.
I had also made the call to dress the kids in blue jeans and white tops. I knew we were performing outside and I knew families were feeling the recession as much as I was. Some people warned me that parents are used to their kids being more dressed up for the event. I worried. No one complained. Actually I got a lot of compliments on the outfits because "it was so easy and it looked so good." Of course in each grade I had a few green dresses and red shirts, but who cares? These are just little kids! Let the high school teachers be picky about uniforms. But still, right up until show time I worried about the outfits.
Now for me... I am the teacher who wears jeans every day. I stand on linoleum, not carpet so I also wear tennis shoes. I never, ever, wear skirts or dresses. I hate them. So of course for the Spring Sing I bought a super girly pink floral print dress with a black cardigan. I told all the kids who commented that it was because Spring Sing was a really special occasion. I had more than one little boy say shyly "Mrs. Awesome, you look really pretty." Oh dear. Watch out, Mr. Awesome. I think some of my heart went to the five year olds in room KA. Before the spring sing I had worried almost nightly about what I would wear and if it would be ok. Turns out I did just fine.
Coming up towards the big event I also wasn't sure how the sound was going to work. I have never really operated a sound board before nor could I see how I would run one while modeling hand motions and dance motions for the little guys on the stage. Also I didn't know if we would even have big speakers or electricity. I worried and worried and worried about this issue. I called and bugged and emailed until finally my principal made one magic phone call. It turns out we had a parent at our school who does sound stuff for his church and he came and saved the day. Whew. In the end I didn't even have to plug in anything.
I also worried about video. We let a professional company record our performance, then they make DVDs and sell them. It's a great fundraiser for our school. However I didn't know if I needed to schedule it, sign papers, write a contract... or?? But sure enough, two days before the performance, the guy calls me and everything is taken care of.
So basically, everything I worried about came together and, in the end, had viable solutions. How wasteful worrying seems after we find the solution, huh?
Next up... Song Choices (or why most contestants get kicked off American Idol)
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Spring Sing: Part 1, background
It's been a week since the Spring Sing so I figure I am long overdue for a review. Before I can go into all of the details of the actual event though, I want to share some of the background because I think it is relevant. All of the following things are bits of info I've been able to piece together from what people were willing to share with me in the staff room.
For several years prior to this year, our school has had our Spring Sing in a big formal concert hall. We had a staff connection and were able to rent the hall for almost nothing. In this big formal concert hall, the story goes that families wore their Sunday best, children came on their best behavior, and there was standing room only by the time all 500 kids plus their extended families arrived.
However, the hall came at a price. People had to pay for parking. It was an administrative nightmare. Teachers were pulling their hair out trying to coordinate kids onstage. Transitions in between grade level performances took as long as ten minutes and the entire concert lasted as long as three hours. Performing at the concert hall was really cool, but many secretly hated it.
This year we no longer had the staff contact available to get us the concert hall for cheap. And with budgets being the way they are, paying anything extra for an already extravagant music program was out of the question. Our performance was scheduled to take place at the local high school in an outside amphitheater before I even interviewed for the position. It turns out this is where the school used to perform before the discovered "formal concert hall" anyways. It also turns out that everyone had something to say about the new location but me.
Another thing to keep in mind as you read about the Spring Sing is that I replaced "Mrs. Old Teacher" who was the music teacher at our school for many, many years. She was not a credentialed teacher but that didn't stop her from being an amazing music teacher. I knew big university buzz words like differentiation and assessment but she had decades of teaching experience and a choral background suited for teaching kids to sing. However, as she was 30 or 40 years older than me, she had a different style and chose different songs. She also had fallen into the pattern of doing some of the same lessons and songs every year.
The two most controversial things about the Spring Sing this year were its location (I had nothing to do with that) and the song choices (all me). I wish I could go back in time and tell my past self that so I would not have fretted about everything else. In the end, I could have saved myself a lot of grief.
...to be continued.
Read Part 2 here
For several years prior to this year, our school has had our Spring Sing in a big formal concert hall. We had a staff connection and were able to rent the hall for almost nothing. In this big formal concert hall, the story goes that families wore their Sunday best, children came on their best behavior, and there was standing room only by the time all 500 kids plus their extended families arrived.
However, the hall came at a price. People had to pay for parking. It was an administrative nightmare. Teachers were pulling their hair out trying to coordinate kids onstage. Transitions in between grade level performances took as long as ten minutes and the entire concert lasted as long as three hours. Performing at the concert hall was really cool, but many secretly hated it.
This year we no longer had the staff contact available to get us the concert hall for cheap. And with budgets being the way they are, paying anything extra for an already extravagant music program was out of the question. Our performance was scheduled to take place at the local high school in an outside amphitheater before I even interviewed for the position. It turns out this is where the school used to perform before the discovered "formal concert hall" anyways. It also turns out that everyone had something to say about the new location but me.
Another thing to keep in mind as you read about the Spring Sing is that I replaced "Mrs. Old Teacher" who was the music teacher at our school for many, many years. She was not a credentialed teacher but that didn't stop her from being an amazing music teacher. I knew big university buzz words like differentiation and assessment but she had decades of teaching experience and a choral background suited for teaching kids to sing. However, as she was 30 or 40 years older than me, she had a different style and chose different songs. She also had fallen into the pattern of doing some of the same lessons and songs every year.
The two most controversial things about the Spring Sing this year were its location (I had nothing to do with that) and the song choices (all me). I wish I could go back in time and tell my past self that so I would not have fretted about everything else. In the end, I could have saved myself a lot of grief.
...to be continued.
Read Part 2 here
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Lie Revealed
First, I must apologize for my absence. My excuses are valid. It was Mother's Day, so I went to visit my parents. Mr. Awesome had some writing to do so I helped him proof read and edit. I had allergies so I couldn't think through the zyrtec fog. I was tired so I took a nap. The Amazing Race season finale was on. You know, good excuses.
But now it's back to business as usual. Remember last week when I posted about my favorite ice breaker game, three truths and a lie? It turns out that no one guessed correctly! Here's the run down and the lie revealed.
#1: True Story. I did it to prove a point to the most out of control class I've ever had, and I'm not sorry. I don't know why children thought it would be ok to run and shove and jump down four steps and scream and push and pull hair just because there is a new teacher in the room, but believe me, they never did it again. And I never raised my voice and I never told them they were bad kids. So maybe I'm not so much mean but effective.
#2: True Story. In Small Town, USA we really do have chamber orchestras who perform in elementary schools for free. And I am really am that much of a smart ass. And my pal, the principal, really is cool enough to like me better for it. Though I will admit that I am (and have been for about 10 years) working on learning to hold my tongue. This blog isn't helping because it's allowing me to embrace my inner snark.
#3: True Story. This tops my list of most embarrassing lesson moments ever. I'm still not sure what possessed me to think it was a good lesson plan. I do know that unlike some failed lessons, which just need to be retaught, this one will never happen again unless I'm at summer camp.
...which leaves #4.
#4: LIES. All LIES. I'm so proud of myself for tricking even the best of gamers. I must say though, you all must have a terrible idea of what full inclusion looks like here in Small Town, USA. We DO have 1:1 aides and interventions and special day classes and generally amazing special ed programs. If there ever was a child that had behaviors like I made up I'm sure we would be able to meet his educational needs. Also, at the school where I work, my teachers are all team players. If I ever said I had trouble with a kid, we would certainly work on it together. So #4 is actually entirely made up.
-----
Has anyone ever played this game in a classroom? I think it would be a fun game to play either in the beginning of the year or at the end. It's fun to see what kids share about themselves. It would also make a great bus game for those long bus trips with fifth and sixth graders.
But now it's back to business as usual. Remember last week when I posted about my favorite ice breaker game, three truths and a lie? It turns out that no one guessed correctly! Here's the run down and the lie revealed.
#1: True Story. I did it to prove a point to the most out of control class I've ever had, and I'm not sorry. I don't know why children thought it would be ok to run and shove and jump down four steps and scream and push and pull hair just because there is a new teacher in the room, but believe me, they never did it again. And I never raised my voice and I never told them they were bad kids. So maybe I'm not so much mean but effective.
#2: True Story. In Small Town, USA we really do have chamber orchestras who perform in elementary schools for free. And I am really am that much of a smart ass. And my pal, the principal, really is cool enough to like me better for it. Though I will admit that I am (and have been for about 10 years) working on learning to hold my tongue. This blog isn't helping because it's allowing me to embrace my inner snark.
#3: True Story. This tops my list of most embarrassing lesson moments ever. I'm still not sure what possessed me to think it was a good lesson plan. I do know that unlike some failed lessons, which just need to be retaught, this one will never happen again unless I'm at summer camp.
...which leaves #4.
#4: LIES. All LIES. I'm so proud of myself for tricking even the best of gamers. I must say though, you all must have a terrible idea of what full inclusion looks like here in Small Town, USA. We DO have 1:1 aides and interventions and special day classes and generally amazing special ed programs. If there ever was a child that had behaviors like I made up I'm sure we would be able to meet his educational needs. Also, at the school where I work, my teachers are all team players. If I ever said I had trouble with a kid, we would certainly work on it together. So #4 is actually entirely made up.
-----
Has anyone ever played this game in a classroom? I think it would be a fun game to play either in the beginning of the year or at the end. It's fun to see what kids share about themselves. It would also make a great bus game for those long bus trips with fifth and sixth graders.
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