Lakehouse internet Redux

Once again, our internet is on the fritz. Access is intermittent. Mental stability is wavering.

Welcome to the New World

I realized tonight that, in all my whining and complaining about how hard teaching is, I haven’t uploaded pictures of my classroom! I really do love my room. It’s a big sunny place (well, a big florescently lit place, but you can’t exactly expect windows as a new teacher), and I love the way my students have helped me decorate. The room is based around our big goal: we want to become “architects of our own worlds.” I’ll write more on that later, but the basic idea is that if you (ie my students) do not learn the skills of reading, writing, and respect, you have no choice about what world you live in. When you master those skills, you get to start making decisions for yourself. More detail on this at a later date, but for now, it’s bedtime. Tomorrow, I’m teaching plot diagrams, using the fresh prince theme song, a pixar short, and a short story we read. I’m so pumped!!

For now, welcome to the new world: Room 186!!

The front of my room!

student desks!

my desk!

During their first week, my students created “goal houses” to think about what the foundations are of their future goals, and what they need to do to get there! As an added bonus, they’re super pretty and now decorate my room. This picture is from my phone so it loses some of the majesty, but here it is nonetheless:

so pretty!

Sleep approaches. Tomorrow: a debrief on the week, and pictures of tonight’s lakehouse cooking night!

The world is full of wonderful people…

… who offer an outpouring of support when I need it. From a friendly facebook message to a frank chat with roommates, to advice and reassurance from those who have been there and done that, every bit helps. Especially a kind word from my institute colab teacher, who is just amazing and is my teaching hero for everything wonderful she is capable of.

I’m taking things a step at a time, trying to get my head above water. I’ve scheduled time to sit and talk with another teacher in my department tomorrow, and my TFA program director next week. I think these conversations will help me ground myself and clear away some of these clouds. I’ve also decided that the best possible thing I can do for my mental health is to set up exciting landmarks in my life. This weekend is a long weekend, and we’re going camping on the beach. Looking forward to that is keeping me positive.

I had been avoiding thinking about going back to St. Louis, mostly because I felt that would somehow be escapist and not productive. However, I think a quick visit to the people I love and the place I feel safe and happy would be good for me. I can get my feet back under me, relax, and remind myself that there is life outside of teaching. So I’ve decided to stomach the expense of a plane ticket (not that it’s a large expense, but I don’t get paid until the end of September, so at this point a breakfast taco is a large expense) and go to St. Louis on my October long weekend.

The thought occurred to me today, during facebooking back and forth with my amazing friend Joel. He’s one of those people I miss with an overwhelming intensity, just a wonderful person I am so privileged to know (though if he asks, don’t tell him so :p ). We were joking about him visiting me, and I started to think, offhandedly, why don’t I just visit him? and for that matter, all of my amazing St. Louis friends?

Then the school year schedule came out, and I noticed Columbus day. Oh Columbus, I have never been so happy for the undue reverence we allow you. Have long weekend, will travel?

The airfare is within my budget, timewise and moneywise. And lo and behold, I facebook my friend Uri to see if I would have a place to stay, and find out rather quickly that I do. So it looks like this trip will become my October landmark.

This is not to say I’ll be measuring the days just to get through them. But it’s awfully nice to be looking forward to going somewhere you love with so much of your heart. J’adore St. Louis.

P.S. Hot damn! That weekend is Soulard Oktoberfest weekend!! Which means polka, beer, bratwurst, leiderhosen, and of course… LOVEYKINS!!

Doubts and Fears

If there is one thing Teach For America does not prepare you adequately for, it is the self-doubt. My first week teaching here in Texas was not bad– my kids learned a few things, I got to know them, and I feel like I’m starting to get the routine down. However, if there is one thing I learned this week, it’s this: I am NOT a good teacher.

That’s not to say I won’t become one, or that this is a fault mine in particular. But, coming out of TFA institute, most of us have tasted success. We’ve learned, we’ve been supported. However, there is an incredible instinct among TFA people to never, never admit that things are hard. Talk to a bunch of TFA teachers  and you would think that the job is all sunshine and rainbows. The achievement gap is real, and scary, but we’re the warriors who are going to take it down. We have the tools. We have the drive. How could we fail?

However, I think it’s important to say this from time to time: I am a bad teacher right now. Truth is, I cannot start the year as a good teacher. I probably won’t become a good teacher this month. maybe not this year.  The learning curve is steep. The actual practice of teaching is more difficult than they could ever prepare you for. And there is always something more, something better I could be doing for my students. The more you do, the harder it gets: want your kids to journal every day? get ready to read 83 journals. Quizzes? grading. Want to use better stories than the ones in the book? Hours searching for them. It’s overwhelming.

Sam and I had a good discussion about our doubts in the car today. As two of the few people coming in to teach for America looking to potentially start a long term career in teaching, we both find ourselves shaken. Although I know, in the logical part of my mind, that I can’t possibly be an incredible teacher the first week, this nagging thought began to grow in my cerebral cortex during my first week with my students. “Maybe this is not for you,”it said. “you’re already failing. You’re just not good at this.”  I’m still in charge of my own brain enough to ignore the voice. But it’s there.

My other doubt springs from Texas itself. I really do like it here– there’s so much to explore, and the beach is right nearby– what could be better? But in St. Louis, the leaves will begin to change soon. The air will crackle with the smell of autumn, my favorite part of the year. Autumn is full of possibilities, full of life. I’m beginning to pine for it. I’ve definitely been considering moving to the east coast in a few years, and in times of doubt, I worry that I picked the wrong home.

Still, one thing I do know is that I’ve found amazing friends here. Talking all of this over with Sam and knowing that I’m not alone in my fears and doubts made it much easier. My friends at work are so supportive, sending me smiles and notes and anything they can to help me out in my first year. And sitting at the kitchen table eating a home-cooked meal every night with my roommates, I feel at home. These are the things I need to remember.

A Very lone star weekend

Friday night lights…

Go Bulldogs!

Saturday night rodeo…

Rodeoing with Roomies!

I don't remember what this event is called... but it's cool!

And of course, cowboy boots!!

I snuck a picture of Roomie's feet...

One Lucky Gal

Now we have internet in the lakehouse.  Huzzah!!

Things have been moving along here in the Valley. I’ve started at my new school, where I’ll be teaching English II (tenth grade).  I must admit, I was so nervous for my first day there. Like every profession has it’s evil boss stories, I had heard so many horror stories about principles and other teachers from TFA members. I wondered how I would get along with my colleagues, and whether or not they would actually take me seriously given my age.  Would they be nice? would they like me? Would I fit in? Suddenly I remembered all of the worries my students will be facing in high school. I guess that fear never really leaves us.

Of course, I needn’t have worried. The rest of my department, and really, everyone I’ve met at my school are so wonderful. The administration is caring and open. My mentor and my next door neighbor (class-room neighbor) are the kindest people ever, and have offered me so much help already! I feel so at home there. More importantly, I feel as if my colleagues and I see eye to eye on expectations of our students. I got warm fuzzies all around my heart when our curriculum specialist for English said exactly what I’ve been thinking– it’s not about teaching to the TAKS test, it’s about taking the students to a higher level of learning. If we can get them there, the test won’t be an issue, merely a change to prove what they know.

I’m also very comforted by knowing more of the logistics of my class. I’ll be hanging out in room 186 all year, in the beautiful new wing of our school. I have first and second bell conference– so I don’t teach until 10am. It’s amazing– I get to settle in, get problems solved, and mentally prepare before I begin teaching. Another piece of good news was my bell schedule. At my school, tenth grade English students have a block English schedule– which means that I get my students for an entire hour and a half instead of 45 minutes!! I’m so thankful for my schedule. I was a bit panicked about making any learning happen in 45 minutes (although, to be fair, in high school I would have found 1.5 hour classes insane). It also means I only have 3 classes, which means less students, less grading, and more personal attention for each of them. Although on hard days I’m sure I won’t be singing this same tune, I couldn’t be happier right now about my block scheduling. Or really, about my school in general. I don’t think there’s a better thing in this world for a new teacher than starting out in a school where you feel supported and cared for, and where your colleagues are all committed to leading our students to success, no matter how hard the path.

Lakehouse internet

…fail. Will return.

Lakehouse, ho!

Tomorrow I get to move into my beautiful new house!! I’ve spent the last week vegitating on a friend’s floor, hanging out with some wonderful people and doing an awful lot of nothing. It’s an amazing feeling, doing nothing, especially after institute. However, I’m very ready to be on the move again. I can only vegitate for so long before getting antsy.

So, tomorrow begins the great migration from this floor in Harlingen to the lakehouse in Edinburg. Pictures and a move-in debrief when I get internet again!

Also, within the month, the teaching part of this teacher’s blog will actually begin again!

Unpacking (on many levels)

I am attempting, and in many ways failing, to unpack my life on so many levels.

Unpacking, in the physical sense, since my car is packed to the gills with my things and my storage pod (such a handy thing) is still hanging out in St. Louis. I signed the lease today on a BEAUTIFUL new house with three wonderful new housemates. Each and every one of them are (is?) someone I am so excited to live with. I think our house will be a wonderful hub of creativity and learning from each other, even though we’re teaching very different subjects and grades, and at different schools. however, among all this wonderfulness is a not-so-wonderful August 1st move-in date. Since I’m already back in the Valley and already kicked out of my “post-institute” days at the dorm, I’m a nomad for the moment. Luckily my lovely friend, L., is moving into her apartment today and is letting a homeless teacher crash on her floor. So, in the physical sense, unpacking will have to wait awhile.

Unpacking, in the emotional sense, seems to be even harder. I’m attempting to wrap my brain around the last month and a half of TFA institute (which, for all non-TFA readers, is a 5 week intensive training process which I endured in Houston).  I miss my students, all 8 of them, and their creative mischievous minds. I miss A., who could barely muster the courage to speak but found her voice through her beautiful writing. I miss E., with his misbehaving ways and endearing brains, who enjoys making life difficult for his teachers. On the last day of school, we had a college talk with our class, and my Co-lab (we taught in pairs, splitting a 2.5 hour class in half).eventually questioned me into revealing the entrance statistics for the writing program I was in. E stood up and had the whole class applaud for me. It was seriously the best compliment I have ever received.

I miss J., who has always been told he didn’t need to worry about school because he is special ed. The light in his eyes when he finally realized that he is a good, good writer, that he has incredible ideas if he just follows them out from his brain to the page, is something I will never forget.  I miss Ale and Alexx, who remind me so much of myself and my best friend in high school. I miss S., who has been an adult so long because of what she has seen and had to do, and is determined to go to college no matter what. I miss C., who has only been in America 3 years and is already excelling in English, though she might not recognize it yet.

I wonder about M., who left my class halfway through, who I never got to reach. M hates english, hates writing. Could I have done more for him? Always. I always could do more.

This doesn’t even begin to address the amazing teachers I worked with. JH, with his never-ending grins and natural teaching finesse. I met my match in mean humor in JT, who gave back as good as he got. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed talking to someone more. Or EW, who cared so much about her teaching she actively sought criticism. She showed me strength  I can’t even imagine.

There’s so many more of them, my incredible co-teachers. I’m sure I’ll write more about them, because they’re always going to be with me in the back of my head, their voices keeping me moving forward.

Wherever all this unpacking leads, whenever it happens, I can’t help but think it is leading somewhere incredible.

My kids are rockstars

Just sayin. It’s true. My class is full of rockstars.

This is my first week teaching. Here in Houston, I’m teaching 12th grade summer school for a month before I head back to teach my 10th  graders in McAllen. It’s been an interesting week, to say the least.

These kids fascinate me. There are times where they seem so shallow– only concerned about their nails (each one a different color), or their belt buckles, or who is giving who a hickey in the hall. And then they step inside… and things change. They’re bright, they’re curious, they want to learn.

That being said, it’s becoming more and more clear to me how much student behavior hinges on the teacher. On my first day teaching, my students started the day interested and engaged. Then, the fire alarm went off (this happens very often at my school. As in, four times this week so far). I think I handled that very well, all things considered– I made sure to take my kids out in an orderly fashion, to take roll outside and inside, and to get them all back into the classroom. This is harder than it seems- many kids will take off during our frequent fire drills hoping no one will mark them absent. However, it completely threw me off. There’s no other way to say it than that I panicked. Suddenly 20 minutes was gone and I was completely off schedule, tasked with teaching the students about word choice before the bell rang.

Suddenly, my teaching changed. I was talking constantly and quickly. I was giving students no time to answer before feeding them the answer.  I became completely totalitarian about my hand raising– I only have 7 kids, but somehow making them raise their hand before doing ANYTHING felt incredibly important. My bright kids were gone– replaced by surly, quiet little people who only wanted me to go away.

So the next day, I tried something different. we put our desks in a circle, and we had a conversation about the story. Just a conversation. But during our conversation, we covered context clues, word choice, connotation. they made connections, they made predictions.  it was, in a word, incredible. And even my “problem kid” (who is in fact just far too smart to be in summer school, but suffers from behavior problems) was interested, although he had a few inappropriate moments. It was the class of my dreams.

I’m trying to keep that high in my mind when I go into my class in about an hour. I’m teaching main idea today, but my texts are not as interesting as yesterdays, so I hope I can keep them involved.

Favorite quotes from yesterday:

“Miss, I like these stories.” So simple, but it made me smile 🙂

One of the stories was about a girl who wouldn’t eat. I need to preface this by saying that I DID NOT laugh when he said this, but I barely held it in when one of my students said “he should give her some pot. Then it would give her the munchies.”

How do you not laugh at that? The same kid compared King Louis and the peasants of the french revolution to a pimp and his… ladies. So inappropriate, but accurate, don’t you think?