It’s here again…testing day. For the third and fifth graders it’s the first of three chances to pass the reading test. For my fourth graders it’s the writing test, but they only get one shot.
For the most part I’m not too worried. I’ve got a few really good writers who could pass this test in their sleep, (but let’s hope they don’t try that) a bunch of kids who can concentrate and do well, and a couple who need some extra prayers.
If you know any TAKS day prayers, say one for my class today.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Many uses for a pencil...
Sometimes in life you witness the most amazing things…and sometimes the bizarre images that are translated through your rods and cones both baffle and disgust you.
Case in point:
When I teach reading there are times when the whole class is doing stuff together, and there are times when I’m reading with a small group and the rest of the students are working independently on reading activities centered around a story or sometimes a couple of stories.
I’m at my half-moon reading table, reading with a group of five students when something causes my focus to shift and I catch a glimpse of Drako.
Drako is holding his pencil and is also quite engrossed in the reading activity he was working on, which is exactly what I like to see in a student. However, it wasn’t Drako’s work habits that caught my attention, it was his pencil.
On his pencil he had one of those colored erasers you buy and stick on the end. I glanced up just in time to watch the whole eraser vanish up his nose. That’s right, UP HIS NOSE!
It jammed up there, twisted two or three times and popped back out. Then it moved over and repeated the whole process, game, nasal-fixation ritual, or whatever you want to call it, and popped back out. After that it moved back to the original nostril and started over. I’d say he hit each side of his nose four to five times, but the whole thing only lasted about 15-20 seconds.
But baby, it felt like an eternity to me.
It was one of those things so startling and so gross that you want desperately to avert your eyes, but for some reason you body won’t let you turn away.
So I’m sitting there, thanking my lucky stars for a high gag reflex tolerance, when he pops the eraser right smack-dab in his mouth.
And you thought pencils were just for writing…shame on you!
Case in point:
When I teach reading there are times when the whole class is doing stuff together, and there are times when I’m reading with a small group and the rest of the students are working independently on reading activities centered around a story or sometimes a couple of stories.
I’m at my half-moon reading table, reading with a group of five students when something causes my focus to shift and I catch a glimpse of Drako.
Drako is holding his pencil and is also quite engrossed in the reading activity he was working on, which is exactly what I like to see in a student. However, it wasn’t Drako’s work habits that caught my attention, it was his pencil.
On his pencil he had one of those colored erasers you buy and stick on the end. I glanced up just in time to watch the whole eraser vanish up his nose. That’s right, UP HIS NOSE!
It jammed up there, twisted two or three times and popped back out. Then it moved over and repeated the whole process, game, nasal-fixation ritual, or whatever you want to call it, and popped back out. After that it moved back to the original nostril and started over. I’d say he hit each side of his nose four to five times, but the whole thing only lasted about 15-20 seconds.
But baby, it felt like an eternity to me.
It was one of those things so startling and so gross that you want desperately to avert your eyes, but for some reason you body won’t let you turn away.
So I’m sitting there, thanking my lucky stars for a high gag reflex tolerance, when he pops the eraser right smack-dab in his mouth.
And you thought pencils were just for writing…shame on you!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
What is it?
What is it that convinces a child that he’s safer out on the streets late at night than he would be at home?
Being a teacher I get to see some of the most amazing and wonderful sights. I see miracles every day. It’s mind-boggling to think that these young minds that I’m working with will someday be the adults who are running our world. However, being a teacher I am also forced to witness some of the most depressing and disheartening sights you could ever imagine.
It’s a dichotomy that embraces and warms my soul, while at the same time it rips my heart to tiny shreds and grinds its mangled pieces into the ground.
What is it that keeps me coming back? I love being a small stop on the journey of these young minds. Being allowed to watch these young lives evolve, become mature and take flight is an incredible gift. It’s a gift that I thank God for every day.
But it’s the child for whom school is the only safe place he has that keeps me coming back.
Being a teacher I get to see some of the most amazing and wonderful sights. I see miracles every day. It’s mind-boggling to think that these young minds that I’m working with will someday be the adults who are running our world. However, being a teacher I am also forced to witness some of the most depressing and disheartening sights you could ever imagine.
It’s a dichotomy that embraces and warms my soul, while at the same time it rips my heart to tiny shreds and grinds its mangled pieces into the ground.
What is it that keeps me coming back? I love being a small stop on the journey of these young minds. Being allowed to watch these young lives evolve, become mature and take flight is an incredible gift. It’s a gift that I thank God for every day.
But it’s the child for whom school is the only safe place he has that keeps me coming back.
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