A Practical Proverb

“Above all else, guard your heart, for it determines the course of your life.” –Proverbs 4:23

This verse was posted in a New Year’s message in which I was tagged. I know it’s a Bible verse, but I’m going to calligraphy it all nice and big and put it in my classroom somewhere visible. People need this advice at eighteen rather than forty-something.

I’ll explain to students it isn’t merely about romance–it’s barely about that at all. It’s about following our path, our passions…every moment of our lives.

We feel our passions, we ignore them. I’ll point out the many ways we’ve refused to be put into boxes this year–and how bringing that thought process into real life leads to victories…

Finally, I’ll remind them this truth is my story too–everyone’s story, really…we’re all traveling the same path…when we follow the heart in all things, the path goes much more easily. When we do not, we struggle through the brush without a machete until we come upon it once again.

It’s that simple–for all of us…I never know why we insist on making it difficult.

What to Do When You’re the Teacher Who Messes Up

He couldn’t spell “Einstein” or “magic.” I didn’t want to take the class. I needed it. It was one of those “You-Need-This-For-College” classes. I wondered why. I’m certainly not a working in that field today.

He was often making mistakes on the board or misspelling something on a paper. He’d go back and correct himself after a thoughtful student raised a hand, but still, he was the expert. How could he spell something wrong? I was a pretty harsh critic.

He tried to organize me.

“You’ll never be a success.  You don’t take good notes,” he said.  My notes were just fine. For me. “You have to follow the system!” His system was beautiful. Tables of contents with neatly attached note pages… mine was a stream of consciousness with the occasional blurb about the subject.

When I studied… If I studied…I used my notes. I stared at the doodles. They transported me to the point in the lecture where I’d lost focus and drawn them. Today, there’s pens that do that for students.

My college notes are the same. Effective–a good system. I still use them today.

I ran into this teacher later in life. I discovered that as an adult, I liked him very much. He saw a disaster like me–backpack barfing with disorganization, bananas resting in the bottom of my locker inviting fruit flies, bad fashion, generally on a planet other than my own. He tried his best to avert said disaster with the best tools in his box. Focus. Organization. Systems.

What he needed was flexibility.  He didn’t recognize my systems were effective for me, because I processed things differently. He organized thoughts in a productive mental line. Mine were more like a creative spiderweb. There was a rhyme and reason to my thoughts. My systems served me well. As a teacher, that’s an important lesson–sometimes students are on point, even when they appear to be on another planet. My job is to teach them to find their way back to Earth on their own.

I’m merely a mentor teaching connections and assisting students in developing their life systems. I note problems, assist in analysis, and first suggest, not provide, a solution. It’s not that I won’t dictate, demand and command, but good teaching allows me to prompt them to help themselves first.

 

“I can’t write this essay!” they said. Two good students, staring at a semi-blank paper.

“Is that an iPhone hidden in your bag?” I asked.

“Yes.” I took out my own.

“Let me show you something.”  I hit the microphone. I dictated an intro paragraph using proper dictation techniques, students crowding around my shoulder.

The words appeared. Perfectly spelled text in the proper format. Students awed. You’d think I was Oprah giving away cars. Suddenly, everyone wanted to go home and write an essay.

Flexibility. Thinking and seeing outside the box. A good teaching moment. For a moment, I got to be a hero.

The other day, I didn’t.  “Miss, you forgot to close the quotations on this sentence.” Indeed I had. Without an end quote, I could speak ad infinitum. I fixed it.

“Miss, you did that math wrong.” We’d been applying math to the social sciences. There’s rust on some of my math.

Math Friend Next Door said, “Yup, you missed a step.”  Both slightly embarrassed and proud, I high-fived the kid and gave him candy. My goal is for my students to be better than me–not because I’m stupid, but when I mess up, I own it. Candy helps.

He looked at me the same way I looked at that teacher who misspelled the words. I invented that look.

He’s super smart. I wonder if he’ll forgive me some day… The girl who edited the quotes already has. Will my good karma teaching upperclassmen an essay hack counterbalance my mistake karma? I’m not sure how history will write my reviews.

Teachers aren’t supposed to be real people. We’re supposed to be perfect. I keep forgetting that and messing up. Maybe if I just have one more cup of coffee…I’ll do better today.

 

 

[images: mathspig.wordpress.com and uwyo.edu]

Wanted: One Teaching Job

Wanted. One teaching job. Setting negotiable, for a genius who hasn’t yet been hired. 

The candidate is certified in social studies, but social studies isn’t all you get with this candidate. He connects to any subject at the drop of a time, weaving in student interest.  Students flock to him like he’s the Pied Piper.

The candidate started in my class a decade ago, where, for a project-based midterm, he tried to save an establishment in New York City from a grave social and economic injustice. He failed. The place closed. I gave him an A.

He wanders in periodically, co-teaching at the drop of a dime. Truth be told–the candidate is much, much smarter than me. On the days when I’m feeling “blah,” he shows up and embarrasses me into greatness. Sometimes I feel guilty, if I’m having a rare lazy day. I straighten up, think intellectual thoughts, and work to be an even better teacher. The kind that never has a bad day because that’s the day someone will show up and put you to shame.

The candidate has a serious work ethic. He worked through school, paid his own way in life, and plans lessons down to the last entertaining detail. He feels strongly about social justice and student success, righting wrongs in both categories. He struggled to get through the teacher prep program only because the requirements kept changing–I know, it happens to us all. I failed the “tech test” in the same program. Apparently, “the test” didn’t know I studied typing in the olden days on a cast-iron Royal. It wanted me to hit “tab” in the fake email but I indented the paragraph manually. I failed. Almost couldn’t teach as a result. Similar things have delayed the candidate.

This candidate might just be the best teacher you child never gets. There are a lot of candidates out there, but I’m partial to this one, not only because of his loyalty and inspiration, but because he’s that good. If I was of good moral fiber, I’d hand him the keys to my classroom, but I’m not going to, because I like to teach, too.

However, in my will, I have mentioned this in a subparagraph. If I get flattened by a truck, struck by lightning, kidnapped in a foreign nation, or have any other problem in life that removes me from my classroom, this candidate gets my class (Exclusion 1: Unless it is he who causes my demise). The candidate has made me realize a few very important things:

1. Teacher prep programs should recognize and laud people like this.

2. The best teachers–they have a glow about them–they should never be waiting on the sidelines.

3. Hard work, vision, ethics, and love for students should be rewarded. Every time.

If you want to hire this social studies visionary, comment below. I’ll connect you. We’re in Rhode Island but I wonder if he’d move? I’ll waive my usual headhunting fee, which I haven’t yet established because I have never done this. If he works out, just send me coffee sometime in the middle of the day when I need it most.

To all of you who have jobs and classes, enjoy them. Even in the chaos. Think of those who so want to be where you are now. To those of you who want and deserve jobs and classes, persevere. Be great! You will get the classes you deserve. And when you do, you will shine!

 

 

Valentine’s Day in High Schools (and from my days as a loser)

If you teach, parent, or ever went to school, you should appreciate what an event Valentine’s Day is in schools. It’s that one day where we see red when we’re not angry. Where kids exchange cards, and there is so much sugar that it would make Milton Hershey cry.

From the standpoint of a high school teacher, I love Valentine’s Day, because it’s the one day where I get to set the biggest, baddest, toughest guys in the school walk in with giant big pink teddy bears, balloons, and flowers for their girls. I try to follow them to call attention to the situation.

I always shout out, “Hey, AWESOME pink bear? Who’s it for?” Just a small payback for the class or two you disturbed, kid.

From the elementary standpoint, Valentine’s Day is fun. Everyone gets a card from everyone, even the kids they don’t like. That’s cool. It shows us that we have to be kind, even if we are learning not to like people. I forgot about the day completely, to tell the truth, until Declan said, “Mommy, tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.” So yesterday I drove out to the drug store and picked out the cards–one of the last two boxes left–and Declan and I sat together, spelling out everyone’s name in the class. He picked out just the right card for each friend, disobeying the class list. “Mommy,” he said, “I don’t have to do it in order.” He did it in order of the friends he liked best. Even in kindergarten, there’s a pecking order.

I never liked Valentine’s Day when I was in high school–maybe because I was a nerd who never had a boyfriend. I took a stuffed bear to the semi. Wish I could find that photo just now, I’d insert it. I didn’t get any flowers or candy, and it’s not like you can walk around with the card your mom gave you or anything. You’ll just get locked in a gym locker. It didn’t make sense to get all mopey about it and dress in black or anything. I celebrated with my friend. We always had cards and tons of candy and made it a big deal holiday. Since that time, it became a holiday I thought of less as a Hallmark Mushy Lovefest, and more of the holiday where I take special time to think about the friends with whom I have been blessed–this has been a good year for friends–the ones I’ve kept, the ones with whom I’ve reunited, and the ones who are new, and no doubt will someday be old friends, too, and the new friends I’ve met through this endeavor.  Friends, I know, are the highest order blessing which we are given. I hope you all have a Happy Valentine’s Day.

Tonight, I get to relax. Declan has advised me there is no need to cook dinner, “Mommy, everyone knows special Valentine’s Day dinner is candy. That’s what you eat on Valentine’s Day.” Looks like the holiday has gotten to him, too.

 

[image: keltiecolleen.buzzfeed.net–awesome photo:) ]