Dealing with transiency issues:
Every week I check to see if there's a new student, which there generally is, and then ask the class to tell the new ones what the rules are. Then I ask them a couple of things--do they play recorder; know how to read rhythms; notes on the staff (depending on grade level) play the Orff instruments. If not, I will pair them up with a student who has lived on this planet for awhile, to help them. I have found that 9 out of 9 times new students don't know how to read rhythms or solfege, or staff notes,play recorder etc, so I am always drilling that stuff, but I make sure to use a variety of games so that the ones who do know aren't bored stiff. I have a zillion games that I've made over the years. It's frustrating with recorder because I can rarely get beyond BAG, so that's why I do recorder karate--that way I don't lose the ones that know more than three notes. I have a variety of really fun, authentic music (not music K8 because most of their music makes me vomit. ) I have a lot of music that uses just one or two notes and if there are kids that are more advanced I have a second part ready for them. Differentiation is the key when you have so many new kids entering the mix all the time.
A detour about why I don’t like the Music K-8 stuff:
When I first started teaching, I asked a very respected veteran teacher how he chose music for the class and he said that if he likes it, he uses it and if he doesn’t like it, he won’t use it. That’s how I feel about the stuff from Music K-8. My students don’t have a chance to develop any repertoire, whether it be nursery rhymes, patriotic music, folk music—and by folk, I mean all of us folk, not just white, European folk. My students have a limited exposure to music and all of it is either what they hear on the radio/tv/movies or church. But even their church music doesn’t expose them to music from their heritage. My goal is to expand their repertoire. Research says we like what we know, but if we only know a little bit, that’s not a good thing. It’s important to expand students’ listening experience or they will not like anything they are not familiar with, and will only be able to create and compose in the narrowest way. I want to use music that builds repertoire and I am not afraid to expose the kids to music that doesn't have a popular feel to it. And I know my students like the music I pick because I hear them singing it on the way out--even the stuff WITHOUT words.
One thing I found that helped after YEARS of flailing around, is that I meet them at the door, or in my case, the bottom of the well (I teach at the bottom level all by myself. It take three sets of stairs to descend upon my lair) and wait until I see that everyone is quiet--good teachers will have them already quiet, but for the ones that don't have this control I just stand there, stare at them and wait. Then I have them follow me as I walk around to make a circle. I either start singing a song--like in k and 1 I sing this stupid hello song (hello boys and girls, hello boys and girls; it's so nice to see you hear, hello boys and girls. verse 2 hello Ms. Jove....)that they, for some reason, sing with great gusto. Plus, it stops them from calling out “Hey Music Teacher” when they see me in the hall and instead use my name. Otherwise, I will respond, “Hello student.”
With the older grades I will often add something rhythmic when we walk in--this week I held up either a quarter, half or whole note while listening to Apat from Rhythmically Moving and we stepped whatever note I was holding up. Sometimes I will do some body percussion and have them echo me. Two weeks ago I did a conga line. I find that starting class as soon as they walk in my door and not wasting time saying --get seated/ be quiet blahblahblah--makes for a much easier transition ( I don't take role. It's a waste of time for me. It's not high school; they don't cut class and I don't have to record absences, so unless there's some sort of mandate to do it, I don't bother). Also, as they walk into the circle, I can easily see who is clowning around--one look and it stops. if it doesn't stop or there are too many goofing around, I stop, ask them to sit down where their feetsies are and then ask if anyone can show me the right way to do it. After that I ask who else can show me and they all raise their hands, so we try it again. I do a lot of that, and I think there's some new guru out there who bills this method as the responsive classroom, but I've been doing it for a while, with the exception that I don't make any money from it.
I always make sure the students model the behavior I am looking for and unless they have the IQ of a stuffed moose, they ALL know what the correct behavior is and want to show me they know how to do it correctly. As an aside, I have found that the older ones clown around because they are uncomfortable, so I try to make light of it and joke around--for example, they HATE holding (taking) hands, so I will say "take hands, drop hands, take hands, drop hands...." and after a few seconds I will scan the room and say--well, no one fainted; no one died, no one threw up, no one's head exploded, therefore; I am assuming it is perfectly ok to take hands. Boys and girls, sometimes we do partner dances and i am not asking you to run off into the sunset and get married...pause for groans... so get over yourselves. If you need a cootie shot, let me know." I do have to repeat this from time to time as new ones come into the room and I make different jokes about it or ask a student to explain how nobody's head will explode. There are still a few that really balk, so I tell them to sit out and after a few minutes they want to join in. I just try to make it as non-confrontational as possible.
I have some transitions from circle to assigned seats to other areas and we practice it.* I have to micromanage everything, like how to make a circle--if you're sitting in this part of the room, go to this part of the circle, etc. That prevents running across the room to be with your new best friend of the minute. I use a finger cymbal--one ring is standing silently with a finger to the lips; two is seated the same way--you get the picture. For the smarter bunnies (classes are leveled so some are closer to grade level than others) I have them walk a steady beat around the room until they hear a certain rhythm pattern to signal whatever it is I want them to do. Transitions are really hard for these types of kids, and I make sure to practice them the right way and have to do so every few weeks when the class composition is thrown off by new kids. I have a couple of verbal ones like, 5, 4, 3, 2 1 be in a circle (near my chair, whatever formation I want) ---when I am done. In 5, clap clap clap clap--in 4--all the way down to 1 and finish with...and now I/m done, which they all join in on The rhythm pattern uses dotted notes—my kids don’t respond as well when the rhythms are too stiff –you know—like quarter eighth eighth quarter quarter. Sometimes I sing the scale down from do and when I get to low do, they join in. The point is, they know what to do without any verbal instruction.
These kids really hate to be called out in front of each other--well, for that matter, who does like it?--so I have an individual point system. At the end of the month I have game day--we do music games that I will refer back to later on. If an administer were to question this choice, I would tell him/her that music games address all 10 of the intelligences and will foster inter and intra personal skills and I would be MORE than happy to show them the research--by that time the administrator is bleary eyed and just happy that the kids aren't hanging from the rafters or being sent to their office.
If a student is misbehaving, I very discretely hold up one finger and make it obvious that I am picking up my clipboard. One finger means they lose one point. Two fingers is two points and three goes right to the time out desk for an assignment and they've lost 10 points. The assignment goes home for a parent/sperm donor's signature. I have someone who is in charge of handing out the assignment and collecting it. If the kids doesn't go to the desk, I ring the buzzer. That's insubordination. It takes only one time and they get the picture. Every point lost is a minute of math or reading work during game day. They can make up the points if their behavior changes. They hate doing math and reading during game day. Game day doesn't have to be the whole class period. I generally do it for the last 20 minutes. This also gets rid of punishing the group for the few doodahs. And sometimes it's just a matter of getting physically close to the student misbehaving. I walk around the room A LOT.
If the behavior is coming from the majority of the class I will hold up one finger in the air and that means they will ALL have to do a minute of math/reading on game day. Two fingers, two minutes and three is game day is canceled unless they get their acts together. Game day is a HUGE motivator--Is it game day yet? is probably the most common question I get.
Also, job assignments are a BIG deal. I make sure to invent a boatload of jobs for the students and make sure to point out the helpers are people who follow directions. Sometimes for really difficult kids, I will approach them in the cafeteria or when I see them in the hall and tell them that I would love to make them a helper because I know how smart they are, but I need to see the appropriate behavior. Once a month I will eat lunch with a few fifth graders For some reason they want to eat with me. Go figure.
For the really low classes, I have a more positive reinforcement system and I ask their classroom teachers what reward system they use so I can tie into it. One teacher moves their clip up so I tell them if they get five stars or in my class, I will let their teacher know to move up their clip--I do it individually as much as I can. I praise them as often as I can find one of them not drooling or hitting another kid. I have one 3rd grade class of E L E V E N special ed kids, complete with unmedicated ADHD, OBD, and other assorted syndromes who come with an EIP class. I do second grade lessons with them and they are perfectly content to play simple rhythm patterns on non-pitched percussion instruments. But they're successful at it and like what they're doing so they stay on task as much as that's possible.
I was asked to share those classroom management techniques with a teacher who had a population similar to mine, and after I finished writing down my ideas I felt like a special beacon of guiding light. On the following day I went to school and almost throttled 3 fifth grade students.
I had a fifth grade class that day and I could NOT get them to improvise a pattern using just A and B on the recorder. I was having them do a rhythm to “my favorite food is ___ “. I demonstrated and reminded them for the zillionith time how to blow, hold the recorder, what to check for—the usual drill—and MOST of them could not do it. I could not get them to keep their first finger down—I call it the booger finger—. I told them to put some bubblegum (I should’ve said nasty booger) on that finger and glue it to the hole. It kept wiggling around like an earthworm. I went back to just using B. For pity sake—you’re just BLOWING AIR THROUGH A TUBE. I didn’t say that, but that’s what I was thinking. We had practiced blowing air without recorder. We had gone around the circle the previous week and I corrected all the problems and had asked the class how to fix some of them. Then one of the girls starting blurting out, “Stop messing with me.” I told her that I had called the police and asked for the messing with you division but they were all out solving murders, so they’d call me back. She kept blurting out more non-essential comments and I told her to go the time out desk. She sat on the floor. I had to use every ounce of self-control not to, as my husband would say, “dope slap her upside the head.” I raised my voice, clenched my teeth and hissed GET IN THAT CHAIR AND PUT YOUR HEAD DOWN. She finally climbed in the desk, but wouldn’t turn around. Two seconds later she was yelling at some dust mote to stop looking at her. I buzzed the front office and she ran out of the room. I took 2 days off for a mental health holiday.
* A note about my transitions. Two years ago we got a new AP and a new evaluation system. In all the years I've been teaching, I have NEVER, EVER gotten anything with an "N," which stands for needs improvement. That year we brilliantly revamped our evaluation system to include a needs development and that category STARTS WITH AN N! Needs improvement changed to Needs development. What's the difference? Not much unless you split hairs. And to point out again--they both start with the dreaded letter "N!" (If you got one NI on an evaluation you would be put on a professional development plan. Two NIs and you could be fired. ( A wink to my Grammar fiends: Please note that NIs are not possessive) We also added a proficient and exemplary category to replace satisfactory and that sounds ok until you find out that to be exemplary you have to "take your show on the road." Roughly translated that means you have to show what you do to other teachers, and specialists don't have that opportunity in a school. I don't think the PE or art teacher care all that much about how I teach my discipline. Yes, we are all specialists, but we are not the same animal the way that pediatricians are different species than obstetricians. Both are doctors, but neither share their best practices. To me, an exemplary teacher is one who is exemplary in the classroom, but since I am not in charge of making any decisions weightier than who gets to go to the bathroom, I have no say in this.
Meanwhile, back to that year: We had 30 students in each of the first grade classes. They were separated out for their academics, but came to specials en masse. Not only that but they came to specials right after lunch. No recess. Just a full stomach. They behaved like professional wiggle worms. I started each class with a movement activity, but it didn't matter. By the time I had one part of the group settled down, the rest had invented jobs for themselves, like poking their neighbors or flopping around on the carpet like seals I had a small room and making a circle was like getting Congress to pass a bill.
All the specialists complained about the large numbers and horrible behavior that resulted from when we saw them and how we saw them.
I kept getting observed on a Friday in first grade and that's when I got my Needs Development in classroom management, something I thought I was pretty good at. The AP didn't see it as negatively as I did, but , dare I say it again--the word started with an N. (You can't teach an old dog new tricks.) My first reaction was to argue and support my cause, but then I thought about it and decided that maybe I could work on a few things, like transitions. And I did. Even though I had a large class, that didn't mean I couldn't get transitions to go more smoothly. So I owe my growth in that area to her. Thank you, Ms. Burton.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Patterned movement
Patterned movement
My first year teaching elementary school was spent in a fog of ignorance and various states of cluelessness. One of my colleagues suggested a dvd by John Feierabend called Move It. I dutifully bought it and took it home to watch. My husband, a college professor, happened by as I was watching it and thoughtfully said, "That looks stupid. Who would want to do that?" I had to admit, it did look a bit silly, but I thought I would try it out with my kindergartners. I did the Satie Gynopaedia No. 1 and at the end of the piece, 20 pairs of hands clapped enthusiastically. They had been so caught up in the music that I knew this was a fantastic way to experience music, especially "serious" music.
I went home and said to my husband, "Ha ha smarty pants, (well, those weren't my exact words, but that sums up my how I felt) the kids LOVED that stuff you said looked silly." He shrugged and left the room. I sat down and poured through the other selections, but I was puzzled at some of them. Sometimes the movements suggested a storyline or non-musical idea, but that didn't make as much sense to me. I decided to do my own version and used the expressive and formal structures to guide the movement. I will post some videos in the next few months. I use them with grades k-5 with variations for the older students that incorporates more body percussion. and sometimes a higher dose of silliness.
Parenthetically I did some research comparing first time listening experiences to serious music using listening maps vs movement. Hands down, the students understood the expressive and formal structures of the piece when I used movement activities and I have the research that backs it up, despite the fact that the dimwit from my fly-by-night-dipoma mill school (what did you expect? my husband said after they made us read The Education of Little Tree as if it were a realistic memoir about growing up as a native American and not a MADE UP story by Asa Earl Carter, written under the cleverly disguised pen name Forest Carter, a Klu Klux clan member and pro-segregationist George Wallace speechwriter.). Anyway,the "professor"--a former Tennesse high school principal with an advanced degree from Purina Dog Chow College of Arts and Seances--said he thought it was a great paper even though he couldn't understand any of it, and gave me an A, just because it looked impressive.
I used my third grade classes--five of them from the three schools I was teaching at--as guinea pigs. Two classes would experience music using listening maps; two would use my patterned movement; one class would close their eyes and let the music envelop them.
Guess which class disengaged the fastest? After 20 seconds, I realized that 25 third graders would not experience music just aurally. I should've filed that away under my WTF were you thinking lesson plans. Anyway, I did pre and post assessments in each class and the class that had done the movement activities clearly demonstrated more understanding of the formal and expressionistic qualities of the music, as well as being able to aurally recall the pieces. If I played the same piece the following year, those students could not only remember the music, but the movement activity as well. I threw out the listening maps. I never liked them anyway.
My first year teaching elementary school was spent in a fog of ignorance and various states of cluelessness. One of my colleagues suggested a dvd by John Feierabend called Move It. I dutifully bought it and took it home to watch. My husband, a college professor, happened by as I was watching it and thoughtfully said, "That looks stupid. Who would want to do that?" I had to admit, it did look a bit silly, but I thought I would try it out with my kindergartners. I did the Satie Gynopaedia No. 1 and at the end of the piece, 20 pairs of hands clapped enthusiastically. They had been so caught up in the music that I knew this was a fantastic way to experience music, especially "serious" music.
I went home and said to my husband, "Ha ha smarty pants, (well, those weren't my exact words, but that sums up my how I felt) the kids LOVED that stuff you said looked silly." He shrugged and left the room. I sat down and poured through the other selections, but I was puzzled at some of them. Sometimes the movements suggested a storyline or non-musical idea, but that didn't make as much sense to me. I decided to do my own version and used the expressive and formal structures to guide the movement. I will post some videos in the next few months. I use them with grades k-5 with variations for the older students that incorporates more body percussion. and sometimes a higher dose of silliness.
Parenthetically I did some research comparing first time listening experiences to serious music using listening maps vs movement. Hands down, the students understood the expressive and formal structures of the piece when I used movement activities and I have the research that backs it up, despite the fact that the dimwit from my fly-by-night-dipoma mill school (what did you expect? my husband said after they made us read The Education of Little Tree as if it were a realistic memoir about growing up as a native American and not a MADE UP story by Asa Earl Carter, written under the cleverly disguised pen name Forest Carter, a Klu Klux clan member and pro-segregationist George Wallace speechwriter.). Anyway,the "professor"--a former Tennesse high school principal with an advanced degree from Purina Dog Chow College of Arts and Seances--said he thought it was a great paper even though he couldn't understand any of it, and gave me an A, just because it looked impressive.
I used my third grade classes--five of them from the three schools I was teaching at--as guinea pigs. Two classes would experience music using listening maps; two would use my patterned movement; one class would close their eyes and let the music envelop them.
Guess which class disengaged the fastest? After 20 seconds, I realized that 25 third graders would not experience music just aurally. I should've filed that away under my WTF were you thinking lesson plans. Anyway, I did pre and post assessments in each class and the class that had done the movement activities clearly demonstrated more understanding of the formal and expressionistic qualities of the music, as well as being able to aurally recall the pieces. If I played the same piece the following year, those students could not only remember the music, but the movement activity as well. I threw out the listening maps. I never liked them anyway.
Teaching on the Dark Side of the Moon
This one is from my first year in elementary school:
The first day of kindergarten I asked the kids to make a circle. They very obligingly stood up and wandered around the room like the wandering Jews roaming the desert as they searched for the Promised Land. I came home and said (cried is more like it) to my husband that it was like herding cats. In a music workshop I had taken previous to the start of the year, the facilitator said to make a circle and all the teachers made a circle. It didn’t seem like rocket science. What is wrong with my kids?? My husband said, “Well, did you tell them what kind of circle? Did you ask them to make a circle sitting down or standing up? Where in the room did you ask them to make a circle?” I quickly realized I had a lot to learn. I wanted that job that my coordinator said anyone could do. Clearly, not everyone can do this job and I was pretty awful that first year. I had annotated remarks after every lesson and at the end of the year I went through them. I had written, “WTF were you thinking? " “Well, that didn’t go well.” Don’t ever do THAT again.” Finally there was ONE lesson after which I had written, “That wasn’t a major disaster.” After my second year there were three lessons that hadn’t bombed and each subsequent year I have less bombing and more successes. But I’m still learning...and bombing.
Musing 2 Year 2
Today is a teacher work day, theoretically. We are supposed to have our 500+ grades entered by the end of the day, yet the entire staff has to sit through an all day workshop with a famous- in- her- own- mind discipline guru.
This year my school decided to "get serious" about discipline and character ed, so the principal formed a discipline committee to tackle this problem. Would it be axiomatic to say that committees are where good ideas go to die? The committee decided to hire____, the aforementioned discipline guru AND purchase her book for every teacher (I was busy calculating how many things I could buy for my classes with that same money), because she would NOT appear at your school for some undisclosed amount of money if you do not purchase her blather-filled book. (New motto: Never trust an educator who becomes incorporated or leaves the classroom after 2-5 years to lecture to other teachers about the classroom. New motto #2. Never trust an educator who uses names like Chelsey and Kaitlin as examples of students’ names. None of my kids have those types of names. Come on now. This ain’t Kansas.)
Second work day: The discipline committee gave a presentation. They had come up with the "believer bucks" system that would allow the kids to amass a huge number of funny money chits if they behaved like humans for a few minutes and exchange this funny money at the student store for their bribery gifts. It’s actually not that bad of an idea, except that the student store hasn’t opened yet and didn’t appear to have any goodies to stock it with, meaning that at this point the kids have either lost or forgotten about the believer bucks. And now the discipline committee was going to present mini workshops on chapters from the discipline guru’s book. I was so glad to be required to attend this invaluable, life-affirming/paradigm changing experience.
The first workshop was in the Jeopardy format and it was all about multiple intelligences. (I don't know what this had to do with discipline. Maybe if you're missing more than 4 intelligences out of the 9 or debatable 10, then you're likely to develop a behavioral disorder). I didn't realize how competitive I was, but I had my finger poised on the imaginary buzzer, hovering in space like an impatient, albeit imaginary, gnat. Unfortunately I got distracted counting the misplaced apostrophes all over that classroom. I don’t understand this trend in grammatical illiteracy. The misuse of apostrophe’s (sic) drives me bananas.
The second workshop had a handout and was about, well, I don't know. I was too busy circling more grammatical errors on the handout. In a previous life iteration I had been a copy editor and a writer of flap copy (you know--the part of the book jacket that gives the reader a teaser of what the book is about). I had found lots of errors including one of my favorite ones: ALOT-- well, Allie Brosch says it better than I can: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html But I digress.
The last workshop was presented by the ASSistant Principal, the one who wrote this in my glowing, first year evaluation: "....Mrs Jove is not a very good teacher." And that was the nicest thing she wrote.
We were asked to come into a room filled with candles. We were told to relax and sit silenty for 5 minutes. I have a hard time being silent for 5 minutes, let alone relax in a room that smells like a Victoria Secret Outlet filled with stressed out teachers.
There were different behavior scenarios posted on the wall, taken from the book from famous discipline guru lady. We were told which posters to go to--micromanagement starts with the teachers, don't ya know-- and mine said, "A student pulls a knife on another student."
So, how do you solve this behavioral dilemma? My first thought was, "run away." Second thought, "run away faster." Third thought, " evaporate or time travel."
The answer was to GENTLY touch the knife-wielding maniacal student on the shoulder. And say what, exactly? " How are you feeling?" "What's up with that? " "WTF!" I went home and drank a fifth of my beloved single malt, triple distilled, Irish whiskey.
Musings 9 years later (2014)
Today was the first day of specials. Last class of the day (Why, Lord, Why do they schedule kindergarten at that time? Those poor babies are tired and antsy and have the attention span of a squirrel gone nut hunting. So in come the kindergarten kiddies, the grade that used to make me cry but now enjoy... most of the time. We started off with Hickety Tickety Bumble Bee, will you say your name for me? I demonstrated (modeled, to use the educational term du jour—it seems like teaching is the one profession that likes to rename the same ideas bi-annually) what to do: say your name and we will echo you. We talk about what an echo is and how many times you echo in music class. Seems pretty easy but just to make sure we are successful, I start with one of the kids who seemed to be a little more "present" than the rest. He does it correctly. Then we go around the circle until we get to the little guy sitting next to me who softly sings, “bumbly bumbly bumble bee something unintelligible, bumble bee.” I say to him, “No sweetie. Say your name.” He repeats his bumbly bee refrain. I say, slightly louder as if I’m talking to someone hard of hearing, “No honey. Say your name. JUST say YOUR FIRST NAME, so unless your name is bumble bee, please say ONLY YOUR NAME. He sings “bumbly bee bumbly bumble bumble bumble bee” The kids say in unison, “Just say your name Quantavious.” “Bumbly Bumbly bumble….“Ok, thank you,”I break in and put an end to that game. At least he was using his head tone.
This one is from my first year in elementary school:
The first day of kindergarten I asked the kids to make a circle. They very obligingly stood up and wandered around the room like the wandering Jews roaming the desert as they searched for the Promised Land. I came home and said (cried is more like it) to my husband that it was like herding cats. In a music workshop I had taken previous to the start of the year, the facilitator said to make a circle and all the teachers made a circle. It didn’t seem like rocket science. What is wrong with my kids?? My husband said, “Well, did you tell them what kind of circle? Did you ask them to make a circle sitting down or standing up? Where in the room did you ask them to make a circle?” I quickly realized I had a lot to learn. I wanted that job that my coordinator said anyone could do. Clearly, not everyone can do this job and I was pretty awful that first year. I had annotated remarks after every lesson and at the end of the year I went through them. I had written, “WTF were you thinking? " “Well, that didn’t go well.” Don’t ever do THAT again.” Finally there was ONE lesson after which I had written, “That wasn’t a major disaster.” After my second year there were three lessons that hadn’t bombed and each subsequent year I have less bombing and more successes. But I’m still learning...and bombing.
Musing 2 Year 2
Today is a teacher work day, theoretically. We are supposed to have our 500+ grades entered by the end of the day, yet the entire staff has to sit through an all day workshop with a famous- in- her- own- mind discipline guru.
This year my school decided to "get serious" about discipline and character ed, so the principal formed a discipline committee to tackle this problem. Would it be axiomatic to say that committees are where good ideas go to die? The committee decided to hire____, the aforementioned discipline guru AND purchase her book for every teacher (I was busy calculating how many things I could buy for my classes with that same money), because she would NOT appear at your school for some undisclosed amount of money if you do not purchase her blather-filled book. (New motto: Never trust an educator who becomes incorporated or leaves the classroom after 2-5 years to lecture to other teachers about the classroom. New motto #2. Never trust an educator who uses names like Chelsey and Kaitlin as examples of students’ names. None of my kids have those types of names. Come on now. This ain’t Kansas.)
Second work day: The discipline committee gave a presentation. They had come up with the "believer bucks" system that would allow the kids to amass a huge number of funny money chits if they behaved like humans for a few minutes and exchange this funny money at the student store for their bribery gifts. It’s actually not that bad of an idea, except that the student store hasn’t opened yet and didn’t appear to have any goodies to stock it with, meaning that at this point the kids have either lost or forgotten about the believer bucks. And now the discipline committee was going to present mini workshops on chapters from the discipline guru’s book. I was so glad to be required to attend this invaluable, life-affirming/paradigm changing experience.
The first workshop was in the Jeopardy format and it was all about multiple intelligences. (I don't know what this had to do with discipline. Maybe if you're missing more than 4 intelligences out of the 9 or debatable 10, then you're likely to develop a behavioral disorder). I didn't realize how competitive I was, but I had my finger poised on the imaginary buzzer, hovering in space like an impatient, albeit imaginary, gnat. Unfortunately I got distracted counting the misplaced apostrophes all over that classroom. I don’t understand this trend in grammatical illiteracy. The misuse of apostrophe’s (sic) drives me bananas.
The second workshop had a handout and was about, well, I don't know. I was too busy circling more grammatical errors on the handout. In a previous life iteration I had been a copy editor and a writer of flap copy (you know--the part of the book jacket that gives the reader a teaser of what the book is about). I had found lots of errors including one of my favorite ones: ALOT-- well, Allie Brosch says it better than I can: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html But I digress.
The last workshop was presented by the ASSistant Principal, the one who wrote this in my glowing, first year evaluation: "....Mrs Jove is not a very good teacher." And that was the nicest thing she wrote.
We were asked to come into a room filled with candles. We were told to relax and sit silenty for 5 minutes. I have a hard time being silent for 5 minutes, let alone relax in a room that smells like a Victoria Secret Outlet filled with stressed out teachers.
There were different behavior scenarios posted on the wall, taken from the book from famous discipline guru lady. We were told which posters to go to--micromanagement starts with the teachers, don't ya know-- and mine said, "A student pulls a knife on another student."
So, how do you solve this behavioral dilemma? My first thought was, "run away." Second thought, "run away faster." Third thought, " evaporate or time travel."
The answer was to GENTLY touch the knife-wielding maniacal student on the shoulder. And say what, exactly? " How are you feeling?" "What's up with that? " "WTF!" I went home and drank a fifth of my beloved single malt, triple distilled, Irish whiskey.
Musings 9 years later (2014)
Today was the first day of specials. Last class of the day (Why, Lord, Why do they schedule kindergarten at that time? Those poor babies are tired and antsy and have the attention span of a squirrel gone nut hunting. So in come the kindergarten kiddies, the grade that used to make me cry but now enjoy... most of the time. We started off with Hickety Tickety Bumble Bee, will you say your name for me? I demonstrated (modeled, to use the educational term du jour—it seems like teaching is the one profession that likes to rename the same ideas bi-annually) what to do: say your name and we will echo you. We talk about what an echo is and how many times you echo in music class. Seems pretty easy but just to make sure we are successful, I start with one of the kids who seemed to be a little more "present" than the rest. He does it correctly. Then we go around the circle until we get to the little guy sitting next to me who softly sings, “bumbly bumbly bumble bee something unintelligible, bumble bee.” I say to him, “No sweetie. Say your name.” He repeats his bumbly bee refrain. I say, slightly louder as if I’m talking to someone hard of hearing, “No honey. Say your name. JUST say YOUR FIRST NAME, so unless your name is bumble bee, please say ONLY YOUR NAME. He sings “bumbly bee bumbly bumble bumble bumble bee” The kids say in unison, “Just say your name Quantavious.” “Bumbly Bumbly bumble….“Ok, thank you,”I break in and put an end to that game. At least he was using his head tone.
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