hipteacher

Notes From a Poetry Unit Draft

Download Poetry Unit

This is a very rough draft that I will keep on the back-burner over the holidays. Since I will teach poetry in the spring, I have some time to figure out if my outline is feasible. I have half a semester to teach poetry, so I will be able to go more in-depth than I usually do.  Imagine, teaching the stuff I am actually good at doing. A treat for me!

I notice that all the projects in my unit, for the most part, use technology and require the students to publish their work online. Teaching in a one-to-one school has really opened up project possibilities. Where, normally, there would only be enough lab or laptop cart time for one project requiring computers, I am now imagining all projects as tech-heavy. Where I used to think poster, I now think website.

I asked the kids to jot down a list on Friday, like on paper, and a few students were honestly frazzled.

    "But can't I just type it, Ms. Hipteacher?"

    "Not this time. You can just use any scrap of paper. It doesn't matter what it is."

    "But I don't have any paper. Or a pen."

    "Fine. Just email it to me."

From where they are, what I plan on doing--iMovies, blogs, podcasts, websites, etc.--is nothing interesting. I could go much further with the tech. 

Teacher Work Day aka Rise of the Coolest Six-Year-Old Ever

Mr. Hipteacher took Hipkid to school the other day only to find that it was a teacher work day and the kids had no school. Fortunately, Mr. H didn't have any classes of his own to teach that day--because he is a slacker college professor who only has to teach two days a week--so they went back home for a day of daddy camp. Only Mr. H needed to grade midterms, so he casually suggested that Hipkid go do something, like something creative, like writing a song or whatever, and then got down to grading.

About half an hour later, Hipkid came back to share his song. He'd taken a tiny black notebook and written his lyrics out and was ready to sing them for Mr. H. They both got excited about the song and decided to do a little recording. Mr. H put together a little drum track and keyboard melody, and Hipkid sang, played harmonica, and did some serious foot tapping.

And I think the result is kinda awesome.

Download Picking up the Earth

They didn't stop there. Next they made a video using a figure drawing model that Hipkid likes to carry around in his bag.

Wooden Movie from hip teacher on Vimeo.

I got home that day to a very excited kid. His face was literally glowing from all that good, creative energy. He was proud of his work and wanted to do more. Next on tap: a video for the Earth song.

My kid, who is "just average" according to his teacher at school, blossoms outside the traditional school environment, away from all the worksheets, behavior charts and bathroom schedules. I wish more of what he did at school brought him to life, but we will keep the tv off at home and be open and ready to work on whatever catches his imagination.

I realize that Hipkid's teachers probably don't even know him because they don't see what I see at home. And, as a teacher, I know I have seemingly lackluster students who have hidden abilities, hidden interests, and hidden personalities that I must reveal, recognize, and celebrate. 

With the risk of sounding most cheesy, I've gotta be the change I wish to see. I don't know what else to do.

Where I Become *That* Parent

Lord, help me. I don't want to be *that* parent. Those parents drive me crazy on a regular basis.

The mom who, last week, claimed that her daughter had spent three hours a day for three weeks working on her summer reading assignment only to receive a failing grade while another student in my class put something together at the last minute and received "an easy A" from me. Mom demanded that I copy Easy-A's paper and send it home with her daughter for mom to compare. Of course, her daughter neglected to do half the summer reading assignment, and that might have something to do with the poor grade. Maybe. Or maybe it's just me. Being evil.

Or the other moms and dads who refuse to allow their children to take responsibility for their actions (like bald-faced cheating) or in-actions (not doing the work). They frustrate me.

So when something with my kid happens at school, I react with my gut and then take a breath. I ask myself if I have the whole story. I ask myself how my kid is at fault and what can be done to redirect him. I ask how I can help the teacher do her job.

But then my kid came home and told me the teacher told him that he pooped his pants on purpose because he was mad at her. He was totally depressed and deflated. I wrote a calm email asking what happened. Her reply just made it worse. And then I stewed.

I was, and am, unholy pissed.

My kid's kindergarten teacher is gonna wake up to an officially not-fun email.

I spoke with Hipkid's pediatrician today about this issue. She was very clear that Hipkid should be allowed to use the restroom when he needs to. If there is a problem with him needing to use the restroom too many times during work time, please let me know, and we will deal with that problem at home. But from now on, when Hipkid says he needs to use the restroom, I expect that he will be allowed to leave and use the restroom. I will send a letter from his doctor tomorrow in his folder.

I do not appreciate the suggestion that Hipkid poops on purpose in the classroom in frustration when he is told to wait. Not only do your comments shame him, but no child would willingly have an accident in front of his peers. While he is very active and certainly a handful, Hipkid is not a spiteful child. I cannot believe that this had to happen three times before I heard about it and only after I contacted you. If my child is unable to control his bowels to the point that he is pooping in the classroom, then I need to be informed; otherwise, as his parent, I am unable to take care of any underlying medical or emotional issues.

I am not saying that Hipkid does not need to take any responsibility for his actions. His father and I have spoken with him about the importance of trying to go to the restroom at the appropriate times, even when he might not feel like he needs to go. He will do his best to use the restroom at those times, but when he feels the need to go at another time, he should not have to wait or be accused of pooping on purpose or to avoid work.

At Hipkid's physical, the doctor also tested Hipkid's hearing and found that he suffers from moderate hearing loss. He has had frequent bad ear infections since he was a baby and has had tubes twice. The hearing loss is significant, and we have an appointment in a few weeks with a specialist to see what we can do to recover his hearing. In the meantime, please be mindful of his hearing loss when giving directions. Hipkid will certainly ignore you and not pay attention at times, but there are other times when he legitimately does not hear what is spoken.

Perhaps it would be a good time to set up a conference.

Broken Down Teaching

I have much to learn. 

On Thursday, I had to leave school early because I got a freakish visual migraine. It was pretty bad this time. I went almost completely blind, and the regular migraine and fever that followed is just clearing up. Mr. Hipteacher had to come and rescue me from school, and, after dealing with my blind, crying mess, my chair took over my last class of the day. While I am very depressed about having to miss yet another day of work, I am grateful to my chair for being so supportive and understanding. 

He also taught me a thing or two about teaching.

When my vision came back, I checked my email to find a very detailed play-by-play of what went down in my classroom. He taught essentially the same lesson I was going to teach, which I had been teaching to my other sections for two days. I read "Thank You, M'am" by Langston Hughes and then led them through the process of writing about quotes from the text. Our department has sort of standardized the method the students should use until they get the hang of making inferences.

1.   Lead-in Sentence
2. Quote (using colon, comma or blending into sentence)
3. "This shows that..."
4. "This is because..."

It is a useful method for average readers and writers who need a bit of a formula to get started. As I do with most lessons like this, grammar and MLA in particular, I try to get in and get out as quickly as I can. I hate lecturing, so I try to involve the students as much as possible and write entertaining sentences for examples of the quotes, but I still find myself giving the information and expecting them to get it.

On the other hand, this is what my chair did:

• They read the Langston Hughes story on their own.
• We talked a bit about textual evidence and why it’s important.  The term threw some of them off, but when they realized “textual evidence” means “quote used for evidence,” they understood.  I asked them to name a movie they didn’t like in order to lead them through an argument.  (They chose Twilight and the third Pirates of the Caribbean film.)  I challenged them when they called Twilight “dumb” and asked them to be more specific.  They started coming up with all sorts of reasons why it’s a “girls” movie, which eventually lead them to admit (sort of sheepishly) that they don’t like movies with that kind of plot, although another boy said he didn’t like it because of the unrealistic elements (aside from the vampirism—he thought the way Edward Cullen scuttled up the trees looked monkey-like and ridiculous).  For the Pirates of the Caribbean film, they were much clearer on why they didn’t like it: they thought it went on and on, especially fight scenes that seemed to last an entire hour, so that what was initially exciting became boring.  
• I pointed out that they had made a statement about which people could reasonably disagree and that they had provided clear evidence to support their point...which is what we ask them to do with literature.
• I put the first sentence of the story on the board, then tried to write a topic sentence (which, admittedly, is sort of backwards).  So I decided to start out by showing how students often use quotes incorrectly: they tend to drop quotes into the middle of paragraphs, without any sort of lead-in or explanation, or they use quotes that don’t really back up their point at all.  I took the first sentence of the story, then wrote a sentence in front of the quote, like this:    The woman in the story may possibly have health problems.  “She was a large woman with a large purse that had everything in it but a hammer and nails.”
• They immediately pointed out that I hadn’t cited the quote properly, so I did that.  Then they said the quote didn’t make any sense with the previous statement, and in any event the quote needed a lead-in.  (They know the term, either from their summer reading or from you.)  
• Someone said the quote was an example of hyperbole, so I created a lead-in sentence about hyperbole, without physically connecting it to the quote.  (Something like “Langston Hughes uses hyperbole in his story,” followed by the quote.)  They talked for a bit about how to connect the two sentences.
• I talked about how most paragraphs/papers on lit are based on problems of interpretation: something about which reasonable people can disagree.  Arguing that Huck Finn is the protagonist in Huckleberry Finn would be a dumb paper topic because, as one of your students put it, “you could prove it in two sentences—you don’t need a paper.”  Arguing what Jim’s role is in the novel, though, would be worthwhile, and they came up with all sorts of examples—issues of slavery, race relations, and racism; a “father figure” for Huck; and Jim’s dialect as “spice” (their word) for the novel.  

Then the lesson went on basically how I had done it with my other classes. But the beginning, that's the good stuff. Instead of just handing them the formula, he had them discover why they needed it. Instead of telling them all the rules, he had them discover what made sense. 

I bet when we go back on Tuesday, that section is going to have this quote thing down way better than my other sections. I will probably go back with the others and review following his method.

Manage This

I am taking a classroom management class at school. Being assertive and authoritative continues to be my "growing edge" as a teacher. Part of it is because I have this strange desire to teach ninth graders, but my students are usually a tad misbehavin' until around November when, for some reason, they settle down and start working my program. But it always seems like such a crap shoot--like I'm not in control of what happens, good or bad.

Enter Love and Logic.

Their website does not make a good first impression on this teacher of English. Over pictures of happy parents and happy children, it reads:

"Kids don't come with an owner's manual...But I found one, It's Love and Logic."

Painful, right? Do I want to be instructed on how to guide children by those who cannot write a sentence correctly? I make errors all the time, but their headline treatment is plain awkward. Plus, it doesn't really make sense, does it? I mean, I found something that doesn't exist--like peace in a classroom of thirteen ninth grade boys right before lunch?

But let's get away from presentation and get to the content.

For week 1, the following is my lesson: "Go brain dead." I like this lesson. In fact, I may be terrifically good at this whole classroom management thing. Especially on Fridays. 

Jokes aside, I actually see how the method could be helpful. When a student starts to argue with you, just go, um, brain dead and respond to the arguing with a catch phrase like "I know" or "I hear you," which you repeat over and over until the kid shuts up or goes away.

I like to explain why I do teach what I teach and how I've graded what I've graded. I think that's part of my job. But every once in awhile, like everyday, some kid just wants to argue. The student may be trying to avoid responsibility for not completing an assignment or for cheating. The student may have had a pissy morning with mom and dad and want to get a rise out of any adult around. This Love and Logic method apparently puts water on their fire and diffuses the situation.

As one of my deans says, some students like to create "a cloud of confusion." I am susceptible to this cloud. The student talks and talks, and I end up giving partial credit or accepting a late assignment when I don't think it's justified. 

So, it's worth a try, but I need to carefully choose my catch phrase. The repetition of "thank you for sharing" or "good try" could easily sound extremely snarky coming out of my mouth. I'm told teenagers are not developmentally able to grasp sarcasm, which I need to remind myself of frequently.

I don't usually go in for overly prescriptive behavior management methods. For example, there's no Ferberizing for my baby, which is probably why she still wakes up for a little nurse and snuggle about eighty-seven times a night. I'm a crazy, sleep-deprived mother, but hopefully she will be a secure and happy little person. But while I will not let hipbaby "cry it out," I am open to training in the classroom. 

I am open to not being so freakin' nice all the time.

Even if I have to broken in to do it. I think. 

We'll see.

B**bs

Pumping at work is an adventure. I want to continue breastfeeding my daughter, so I have to pump at work to keep up supply and provide a bottle to daycare for the next day—not that the child actually takes a bottle, but that is another story.

Right before school started, I awkwardly asked the chair of my department, a fairly enlightened dude, if he had any idea where I would be able to pump. He suggested the bathroom in the faculty lounge. I felt like pumping in the bathroom might be a little gross, but on my first day, I dutifully went down to the faculty lounge to check out the facilities.

No chair. No plug. No pumping.

I ran to the principal’s assistant, who unlocked the counselor’s office for me to use. It was nice and comfortable, but I watched the door like a hawk, frightened that this counselor, who I hadn’t met yet, might decide to come to work for a little pre-planning. Thankfully, she didn’t. She’s a super nice lady, but nobody really wants to make a first impression under those conditions.

It has gotten better. By the odd stroke of luck, I ended up with an office (Yes, I still do not yet have my own classroom—in my seventh year of teaching. I’ve got to stay in one place for more than three years!) that happens to have a utility closet. I share said office with a colleague who has a baby and who also pumped at work all last year. Fantastic! I’m so grateful that I don’t have to feel embarrassed or like I am infringing on her office space when I pump.

But it is still hard to manage my time with my new at-work responsibility, especially because I am sort of teaching six out of seven classes. As often as I can, I go to yearbook during one of my planning periods because I am assisting with the book. I try to pump during lunch, hence my penchant for watching edtech conference podcasts in my little closet.

There are hazards though.

The other day while in mid-pump, the fire alarm rang out. My officemate, who happened to be teaching in the attached classroom, ran in to turn off the office light and lock the door so that I could hide out. She promised to send someone for me if it turned out to be a real alarm.

Another time, I pumped during lunch and didn’t have time to run down to the fridge in the faculty lounge before the bell, so I stopped by another colleague’s classroom because she has a mini-fridge in her room. Unfortunately she hadn’t gotten back to her classroom yet when the bell rang, so before really thinking, I handed my precious bottle of milk to a random student waiting outside the teacher’s room and asked her to put it in the fridge. When I swung by at the end of the day to pick up the bottle, the teacher laughingly told me that the student approached her with the bottle and quietly whispered a question:

“Ms. English Teacher, was that breastmilk?”

“Yes, Sweet Student, it was.”

“Oh...”

Now when you read about Siddhartha’s dream where Govinda turns into a woman, and Siddhartha drinks from her breast, you will understand what is going on—unlike my sophomore class that was very confused and appalled by that scene.

You’re welcome for bringing you the facts of life. 

 

 

 

 

Jumping off the bridge

I am a sometimes early adopter of new technology. Since family life has hit me in the face, my energy for newness has slowed somewhat. Mr. Hipteacher's jollies about iPhone apps haven't rubbed off on me--mostly because he's jazzed to have a sound pressure meter always at his disposal, and I hardly even know what that is--and I secretly want to hang on to hard-back books and vinyl records (not because I am old but because they are cool). But I'm not a total luddite. Really. 

That said, I'd like to admit that I totally don't get Twitter. I've read about it and heard about it. NPR tells me about it on my commute. I see Facebook friends are all over it. But, so far, I've been nonplussed. 

But I've decided to give it a try for two reasons.

1. The headmaster of my new school wouldn't shut up (in a good way) about Twitter during his opening of school speech. He mentioned its relevance in Iran over the summer and how we can't be closed to new technology just because it is new. He encouraged us to explore the unknown. And then he said some stuff about Leonard Cohen that I totally can't remember anymore but made me think he seemed really neat.

2. I listened (while in a supply closet pumping milk--more on that later) to a podcast that Bud the Teacher did for the K12 Online Conference 2009 about the difference between networks and communities, and I decided I really like the idea of creating a personal learning network. Then I saw that Hedgetoad is going to plan with other teachers online (so fun!), and everything seemed to be jiving in the same direction.

And so I am jumping into the Twitter, and I will see what I shall see. I found a couple familiar bloggers to follow, like Dana Huff, who totally lives in the town where I grew up (!), and I made a proud little widget for my sidebar here. 

Then I was instantly followed by a rather objectionable person who promised to show me things I did not want to see.

What Gets Lost in the Ether

I am now teaching at a school which boasts a one-to-one computer program. All the kids have laptops. All the teachers have laptops. All the classrooms have smartboards, even humanities classrooms! So, I've died and gone to teacher heaven, right?

Yes and no.

I'm soaking up the goodness by taking a Web 2.0 class, and one of my new colleagues is teaching me how to use some new-to-me tech tool--Jing, Joomla, Screencast, etc.-- nearly every time I have a free moment. I don't have to wait for computer lab time to put all these goodies to work, and I've quickly gotten used to paper-free practices.

The school website and my class blog have all the assignments and class documents posted, I accept and comment on papers on the computer, and my students have desktop folders and Google sites instead of Trapper Keepers and composition notebooks. For the most part, going high tech has saved me time and added to my organization abilities. I'm not making photocopies and losing assignments because everything is on-line.

On the con side, marking essays in Word has been more time-consuming and less pleasurable than handling stacks of paper and wielding my trademark green Sharpie. I've been tempted to just print many times. And then there is the whole technology as tool truth. Just because I can use some nifty techie tool doesn't mean I should.

Case in point: Etherpad. I think Etherpad is super-rad. I went "oooh" when I first saw it and immediately thought of about a hundred ways I could use it in the classroom. So, today we took it for a spin.

I am leading the ninth graders through the process of being able to verbalize what makes good writing. They like the way some books, songs or poems make them feel and like to talk about flow, but they generally lack the language to say specifically what makes some writing good and some crappy. So, I ask them to bring in an example of a piece of writing they think is pretty stellar and be able to say why they like it, and I work my butt off trying to get them to say what they like about the writing instead of just the content with the end goal of having the class agree on some writing techniques that are generally considered effective.

I put up Etherpad and invited the class to join. As each student read, we all wrote what we liked/noticed about the writing. I read the Hairs chapter from The House on Mango Street as an example. As I read, one class wrote:

• I like the rhyming words, and the details, and the descriptions match like really cool adjectives, and she compares everything in detail.- bread :)
• -it rhymes and the names! the details and adjective go well with the person (describing the mom's hairs) .
• I like the rhythm of the words.
• The details and rhyming!!
•  "like little candy cirlces all pretty"
• I like the description of all the hair; how it feels and how it smells. you get a feel of what else is going on in the room. 
• she is really good at describing in depth with lots of details 
  
• i like how she describes the candy curls
• i like it!
  

As usual, some kids are getting it and some aren't. I, however, am more interested in what is going on over in the sidebar area:

• Crazy Student 1: DONT GET GASSY!!!!!!!! PE YEW!!!
• Crazy Student 2: dafafdsafdsafdsafdsafdsafdsafdsfsafdsafdsafdsafdsafdsafdafdsafdsafdsafdsafdafdsafdsafsdafdsafdsafdsafdsafsdafasfdsafdsafdasfdsafdsafdasfdsafdsafdsafdsafdsafdsafdsafdsa GASSY TO SASSY
• Crazy Student 1: Hey waht's up poop nugget?

In the interest of complete honesty, the first responses are from one of my girl sections and the sidebar example is from one of the boy classes, but generally, they were all over the place in the sidebar. They did the assignment and sometimes did it well, but as my colleague--who happened to observe me today--said, what I was doing teaching-wise was all good, but the technology got in the way. Kids think they can multi-task, but they can't really. And, even if they could, their sidebars were WAY too distracting.

I'm not saying I won't use Etherpad again because I totally will. I think there are some fab classroom applications for the program, but I learned again that I need to think about eighty steps ahead of the kids when I use new techie tools. I hate the idea that I would have to set all these rules: Don't use the sidebar. Don't write anything off-topic. Don't say poop.

I agree with Will Richardson that our use of technology needs to be framed in a positive, what-can-we-do-not-what-can't-we-do light. But when I get in the classroom and start using the tools, many don't don't don'ts are on the tip of my tongue. So, what's a girl to do?

One thing I know: Keep it simple during Homecoming week. Worksheets. Seating charts. Scantrons!

Watch Me Grow

Do you like my new banner? My sweet and super-talented friend Heather designed it for me as a little present. Yes, I was much happier to receive her sketch than another pink pink pink baby outfit with little bows and “Cutest Girl” written all over it. For the baby of course…

It took forever, but I tried to delete all the ugly spam comments and trackbacks that accumulated during my absence.  My favorites are the ones that chide me softly for the work necessary to read through my post and/or comments. Let me encourage you *not* to seek out those fine folks if you want to buy a term paper or thesis.

Let’s not even get into how I am an English teacher, and as such, have a healthy distaste for all things cheating related and am, therefore, probably the last person ready to promote your crap.

I made so many mistakes the first time I was blogging.

1. giving it up when the going got tough
2. thumbing my nose at the idea of advertisements because I was going to be a purist, whatever that means
3. getting too bogged down in my supposed purpose for blogging when I should have been, you know, blogging
4. and much, much more.

But for me, that’s what this blog has been and hopefully will be all about. Me learning lessons. Over and over again if necessary.

Bad things come in threes, etc.

I had all these serious things I wanted to write about--well, one serious thing and several funny things--but, to be completely honest, I'm not feeling it because this was one of those days that I had to will myself to get through. 

Before World Lit, I even considered showing the Most-Boring-Documentary-Of-All-Time about Buddhism just so I didn't have to face my class. Most of the sweet ones were out today on an art field trip, and I was left with the group of rather entitled, I-just-don't-give-a-sh*t boys, the same ones who got an honor violation from me last week. We're on tenterhooks with each other in a big way. But I sucked it up and attempted to teach the Four Noble Truths. I tried. I split up the time with different activities. I showed a useful and accessible YouTube clip. I even scaffolded and stuff. Still, ho hum. 

Partly this is probably because I am the usually Queen of Ninth Grade, where I can kind of coast when I need to, as opposed to Smells Like A New 10th Grade Teacher, where I need to do actual planning. But I haven't figured out when that planning is supposed to happen. 

I realized the importance of that whole "toolbox" thing one of my grad school professors kept yammering on about. 

I need a damn hammer. Or something.

Probably a break. The last few weeks have been unrelenting. First my son got the flu, then my baby girl got an ear infection. I was out of work for a week--at a new job. Then, as soon as they felt better, I got sick. And then mr. hipteacher's class load at the art school where he teaches got slashed, essentially cutting his salary by a third. And then my basement flooded. We just moved into a smallish house, and we thought it would be smart to move pretty much everything into the basement and move it up one box at a time. But then there was water. Lots and lots of water. 

So.

I mourn the loss of all my books. ALL my books. And other things, clothes and boxes of god knows what, of course. But mostly my books.

Oh. And, although I am now thirty-one years of age,  I also have a zit the size of one of those freaky redwood trees in California that people can walk under and get married and stuff.

I am officially at my quota, I tell the universe. Things will now turn around.

Watching This American Life episodes does soothe a little. 

Tomorrow will be better.