Some
weeks – some days – are easier than others. This was not one of those easy weeks.
One, my husband has been getting more and more interested in education. To the
point I am explaining testing, standards, funding, etc.
You know
how we, as educators, already know certain things don’t make sense, but then
you explain it to someone out loud and all of the crazy items that are our
every day reality are verbalized? Yep, that’s where I was at. Trying to explain
why we have certain tests. How we are compared to countries like Finland. The
policies on testing students with severe disabilities. It isn’t that he wasn’t
asking good questions that was the issue. The fact that he is not an educator,
but saw the complete insanity in some (most) of these mandates yet no politician
can, made me a bit crazy.
Then I
read this letter drafted by the Illinois Principal’s Association and I got more
irritated. (Click HERE and then on the link below the line that reads: Attachments.)
I mean seriously, let’s look at all of the unfunded mandates. I think a reality
check might be in order.
And then
Luke – my oldest – was sick. All. Week. Long. Low-grade temp and headache. My
husband and I alternated staying home with him. I had the pleasure of teaching
all day and then doing 1-2 hours more of test prep with him every night. And I
don’t begrudge his teachers in the slightest for sending it home. They are
trying to prepare him for something that is insane, and only going to get
worse.
And so, here
I am. And while I am grumpy as I think over the week, I am pushing myself, once
again, to choose a different attitude. This political “stuff” (for lack of a
better word) can make you insane. And I will keep fighting it. But for my own
sanity I am going to sit here on a Friday afternoon and reflect on these
moments from this week. Because it is moments like these that make me want to
teach again on Monday:
· Fifth Grade boy humor. "Mrs. S, did you know Uranus is a gas giant? That
Uranus is blue? That Uranus is lazy because it spins on its side?" Tears
streaming.
· Josh asking Riley
what page he was on in Dark Life and then high-fiving him for being on
the same page. Both of them huddling up to discuss the book at a table.
· A former student
being chosen as the middle school student of the month. One of the hardest
workers with the best attitudes I have ever taught. Can’t think of anyone more
deserving. And a huge Babymouse fan to boot!
· Being so
disappointed in my class that my voice broke when I was talking to them over something
silly. Having one of them hug me later and say they knew I cared because I was
willing to cry in front of them. And I do. J
· Having to talk to my
intervention class about books as I held a Kleenex to my nose for a freak 20
minute nose bleed.
One student smiled at me, while summarizing Paulsen’s My Life in Dog Years
and told me that “this” was a first.
· Book talking
numerous books purchased at Anderson’s over the weekend. They all now have waiting lists.
· Having my students
share what stories my mom tells when she subs for me.
· Writing a poem about my
grandfather’s dog, Cookie. Having an amazing conversation with my students
about why we make the choices we do as a result.
I ended my shortened day today (home now
with Luke) by lying on the carpet next to a student and discussing the merits
of Rick Riordan’s books and which ones we liked best. I was completely relaxed. As I
sat in reflection I realized that there was a quiet peace in the room. Twenty-four
kids – large eleven-year-old bodies – were spread around the classroom. You
could hear quiet conversations about books, pages turning. And I came back to
this. As much as I’d like to, I cannot control what happens outside of my
classroom. I will continue to speak up for what I know is wrong. But this
classroom? I can control what it is like. I choose this. I choose conversations
over books, silly lessons on what Parkour is (thanks boys), discussions with my
girls about how we need to remember the lesson of the exclamation mark when we
enter middle school, belly laughs where the tears come, tears from true
feelings, and the feeling of peace I get while lying on the carpet sharing
thoughts around a book. The negative stuff can bring me down. These fabulous
faces and these real experiences remind me of what is really important. And
that is what I’m taking with me into this weekend and all of the days to come.