hipteacher

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.

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.