"Tales from 7th Grade" will probably become an ongoing thing as I blend "posting chapters for my book" and "sharing what's happening in the present day" going forward. Here's a bit about my first two days of teaching middle school...
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Monday, September 14, 2015
Returns Accepted
In the final analysis, last week was about as good as it gets. On Tuesday, I was a teacher again. Not that I wasn't one during summer school back in June and July, because, yes, I did teach Drama and Speech to fourteen kids for three hours a day four days a week for twenty days. But, that was temporary-- a trial run-- and I wasn't even sure on the final day if it would be my last one teaching in a classroom. For whatever reason, it was this week, teaching middle school for the first time in my career, that made it feel like I'd come full circle. Not quite "home," but certainly where I'm meant to be at this point in my life-- the return that made this journey feel complete.
Friday, September 11, 2015
The Pre-Transplanted Dad: Magic Words
I will have SO many stories to share in my next blog entry-- but until then, here are some thoughts from March of 2011. Please enjoy them and thank you for reading.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Magic Words
They are called "magic words," but nothing really amazing or surprising happens when one says "please" or "thank you." And it isn't exactly a magical moment when I hear students use these niceties, though I do appreciate it when a kid expresses gratitude upon receiving an assignment. In some instances, the expression could very well be ironic. Imagine it's near the end of 6th hour... a Friday-- do kids really mean "thank you" when a teacher chooses this moment to introduce a project or essay? Suddenly, the weekend that was to be free from homework has become a Saturday and/or Sunday of hard labor. Yet some students still say "thanks" as I hand out the sheets of paper that detail their weekend's demise. Those who say nothing are probably better off for it. If a student is considering saying a phrase ending in "you" in a case like this, "thank" probably isn't the first choice for what comes before it. Maybe in those instances it is some form of magic that prevents a teenager's brain from allowing his or her mouth to utter something regrettable.
Actual situations like the one described above are rare, to be sure, and perhaps the "thanks" is as much a Pavlovian response as it is anything else. But the other day, two students who had approached me with questions on an essay helped each other in the process of getting clarification from me. I was struck by how, before returning to their respective desks, each one took the time to thank the other. It was the sort of exchange that should be commonplace, and it made me long for the good ol' "citizenship grade" like the ones my elementary school teachers had at their disposal. I personally don't know of any public high schools that have a mark for rating a student's civility, but an e-mail to each of the students' parents has a more personal touch anyway. Since the unfortunate pattern of teacher/parent communication tends to begin when something is going wrong in the classroom rather than going right, it is always a pleasure to be on the sending end (and I'm sure on the receiving end) of an e-mail that says, "Your child is kind and polite. In fact, earlier today..."
Though it will be a few years before I will have an opportunity to open such an e-mail, I have enjoyed witnessing firsthand my son's recent outburst of politeness. Although he still often needs to be reminded of the existence of "please" so that his requests don't sound like demands, he has mastered the art of the "thank you." He recently won his first-ever prize from a claw machine game, and he was quick to express his gratitude. "Thank you veddy much box," he said, tightly squeezing his new purple teddy bear. Last weekend, several minutes after we returned from buying groceries, he rushed over to me as though he had forgotten something. He looked up at me, wrapped his arms around my legs, and said, "Thank you Daddy drive me blue car home." In that moment, it was easy to see why they are called "magic words."
Actual situations like the one described above are rare, to be sure, and perhaps the "thanks" is as much a Pavlovian response as it is anything else. But the other day, two students who had approached me with questions on an essay helped each other in the process of getting clarification from me. I was struck by how, before returning to their respective desks, each one took the time to thank the other. It was the sort of exchange that should be commonplace, and it made me long for the good ol' "citizenship grade" like the ones my elementary school teachers had at their disposal. I personally don't know of any public high schools that have a mark for rating a student's civility, but an e-mail to each of the students' parents has a more personal touch anyway. Since the unfortunate pattern of teacher/parent communication tends to begin when something is going wrong in the classroom rather than going right, it is always a pleasure to be on the sending end (and I'm sure on the receiving end) of an e-mail that says, "Your child is kind and polite. In fact, earlier today..."
Though it will be a few years before I will have an opportunity to open such an e-mail, I have enjoyed witnessing firsthand my son's recent outburst of politeness. Although he still often needs to be reminded of the existence of "please" so that his requests don't sound like demands, he has mastered the art of the "thank you." He recently won his first-ever prize from a claw machine game, and he was quick to express his gratitude. "Thank you veddy much box," he said, tightly squeezing his new purple teddy bear. Last weekend, several minutes after we returned from buying groceries, he rushed over to me as though he had forgotten something. He looked up at me, wrapped his arms around my legs, and said, "Thank you Daddy drive me blue car home." In that moment, it was easy to see why they are called "magic words."
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
7th Grade Evin
If the 25 minutes I spent teaching seventh graders today are any predictor of the rest of the year, everything's going to be just fine. The kids look pretty much like this-- me when I was 12...
Friday, September 4, 2015
And Just Like That, the Wait is Over
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Different Kinds of Waiting
I've found that even though I already played the most epic Waiting Game of my life, waiting for other things post-transplant aren't necessarily easier. I am currently waiting to find out if I will be teaching 7th graders this fall, or if I will be able to move back to my "professional home" at the high school where I've spent my entire career. And, as silly as it sounds, this Waiting Game is in some ways tougher than waiting for "the call" about my new lungs.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
The Pre-Transplanted Dad-- "Resolute Beginnings..."
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