hipteacher

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.