Monthly Archives: August 2017

Slice(s) of Elementary

August 29, 2017Reflections on coaching, Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

How are you? Without a classroom? How are you?

I’m fine! I’m good! It’s weird, It’s different. But I’m good.
I am in constant wonderment of the teachers around me
My eyes are teary because
I don't want to sound dramatic, but
elementary school is magic

Little people walk through the doors
Each morning -- Hundreds of them
The first day, they are dressed up ---
Bows in their hair, little ties, dresses, tutus
Even the 5th graders are dressed up --
Dressed up by dressing down
just so
casual
Oldest in the school now, leaders -you can tell by the way they walk and talk
I don't want to sound dramatic, but
elementary school is magic

And the littlest ones,
New to school, they look for their kindergarten teacher
Who greets them, of course, like they are
The one they have been waiting for
(because they are the ones they have been waiting for. All 20 of them)
First graders hug their kindergarten teacher from last year before walking down the big kid hall
They carry their backpacks and their breakfasts on little trays
They look happy. They look worried. They look excited. They look nervous.
A fifth grader walks by,
looks at her friend, and all around the hall
"I've missed this place." she says, shaking her head with joy.
I don't want to sound dramatic, but
Elementary school is magic

I spend my days popping in and out, slices accumulating in my tired brain….
A second grader looks at me with utter confusion, each word emphasized with a furrowed brow.
"Who are you?"
A kindergartner makes plans for catching the gingerbread man who got away today.
"I have a cage. I can build a security camera."
A fourth grader says "Can you help me spell division?" and then in almost a whisper, "Are you H. Thought's mom? I'm Abby from school. I started a new school now."
I walk with a first grade class to recess
a sweet boy talks to me about his star wars game,
He quietly grabs my hand as we walk
I don't really know him yet, but I love him.
I don't want to sound dramatic, but
Elementary school is magic

Celebrate the Remarkable.

August 25, 2017Celebrate, Reflections on coachingonathought

So happy to Celebrate with Ruth Ayres this weekend!

What was remarkable about your day? I’m noticing and celebrating all the remarkable things this week. And, if you’ve ever spent a day (or an hour really) with teachers getting ready for the school year… you’ll know the definition of remarkable. Quick! Go thank a teacher, any teacher. If you need to find a teacher, look for the people at target, looking tired, but still loading their carts with school supplies before they go back to school this weekend.

I had a remarkable first week in my new role as an instructional coach. . . So much to notice…

What was remarkable?
New team, children and teachers at the heart
(#truth)
Time is always short
No tired like beginning of the school year teacher tired
…but coach tired is a thing too

What was remarkable?
Feeling welcomed in new places
Hugs, smiles and even cheers
The old song keeps coming into my head, like I’m 5 years old again
Make new friends, but keep the old…One is silver and the other’s gold

What was remarkable?
Listening to learn about
people
classrooms
grade levels
schools
leadership
collaboration
confusion

What was remarkable?
Questions I can’t answer
So many questions I can’t answer
The learning I need to do
Jumping in
And holding back

Love this quote that came in my inbox today. . .

Fueled by Love

August 18, 2017Celebrate, Family, Reflections on teachingonathought

So happy to Celebrate with Ruth Ayres this weekend!

I want to celebrate one of my kids today. One of my wonderful children is a little extra unique. He’s smart, creative, comical, helpful, talented, a struggling reader, fidgety, a nonconformist, sensitive and loud. If you haven’t met him, watching this will give you a good idea of him. (If you’re his parent, watching it might make you cry and hope.)

The other day I overheard someone else use the word tricky to describe him. They hadn’t met him yet, but it was my fault because sometimes I have labeled him “tricky” in order to try to describe him to others. But I think I’ve been using the wrong word. It’s not that he’s never mischievous… it’s just that that isn’t what I mean by tricky. The nuance of what I mean is lost in the translation from my brain to others’ ears. I mean unique. I mean not interested in the status quo. I mean challenges you to be a better person. I mean sensitive but not quiet.

The other day, Mr. Thought and I were talking about how to make sure our son starts off his new school on the right foot.

“He’s not tricky.” Mr. Thought said. “Well, sometimes he is, but that’s not the point.”

We both thought for a moment. “He’s just fueled by love.” My husband explained, “He needs to know he’s loved.”

I don’t usually speak in hashtags, but come on. This is #truth.

So, I have a new way to talk about my amazing kid. He is fueled by love. He deserves it.

And I think I have new way to talk about all kids, right? Who isn’t fueled by love? Who doesn’t deserve it? What does it mean? It means give every kid the benefit of the doubt, set kind limits, give second chances, again and again. Take a deep breath, let it go. Don’t make compliance your learning goal. Look around at your students and get to know them. Please. They are fueled by love.

A slice at the Grocery Store

August 15, 2017Family, Slice of Lifeonathought

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

There’s only one register open at Wegmans, and it’s a little bit slow. E and I can handle it though, and while we wait, a pregnant mother of 3 kids pulls her cart behind me. Her toddler keeps throwing things on the floor. So, when it’s my turn to put groceries on the belt, I ask her if she wants to go in front of me.

“No, that’s okay. They need to learn to be patient.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, “I only brought one of my kids with me today, so you are welcome to go first.”

“Nope, I’m kinda hoping they open another register. Usually they open registers when there are lines.”

The cashier rings up my groceries, and the woman has to start loading hers.

“Can you get those things on the bottom? No the bottom. The very bottom of the cart.” She explains to her kids. “Grab the milk from your sister before she drops it.”

I’m pulled out of my noticing by the cashier complaining about the line. She needs a price check for one of my items, so now she is the only cashier and her lamp is blinking. Another worker walks by, and my cashier yells after her.

“Is anyone going to help me?”

The woman walks away, saying “I’m going to accounting.”

“It would be great if you said something.” the cashier tells me. “That will make them listen. This is crazy. I’m all by myself.”

I nod. “It really puts the pressure on you.”

“That’s true.” she says to me, and then turns her head towards customer service, calling out the name of her manager. “I could use some help!”

Her voice is stressed, and snippy. The manager looks up, takes a deep breath and says “I’m with a customer. And then I can help you.”

The cashier grumbles to me some more, and I don’t really know what to say, so I just tell her that it must be so hard. The manager walks over, a smile on her face, asking what she can do to help me.

“I’m the only one on register.” the cashier says as the manager walks away, looking for the price we need. When she gets back, she asks the cashier if the item got on my order.

“I have no idea. I’m the only one on register. Can someone please come help over here?”

The manager checks that the item is now on my order, turns to the cashier and talks in a very patient voice, “More people are coming on. It will be okay.” She walks away.

“I hope your day gets better.” I tell the cashier as I walk away. E looks at me, eyes wide and rolling a little. It’s the look he gives me when we witness something a little odd. So, we talk a little about how hard it must be to be the only cashier, and how hard it must be to be the manager trying to get other people on the registers. In my head I think about how patient the manager was, and how stressed out the cashier was. I wonder if this was supposed to teach me something. Is it ironic that the manager was all smiles to me, and on the patronizing side of patient with her employee? I don’t know. But, I noticed.

E reads this over my shoulder. “That’s sad” he says, and then, “Why are you writing about Wegmans? Write about something else.”

A Slice of just stopping by

August 1, 2017Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

I was just stopping by, a quick summer visit. Camp was in session. I am not a part of the camp. I was just stopping by. A quick meeting or two.

A boy was wandering the hallway, with a look a teacher can spot from a mile, or at least a hallway or two away. It’s the look of “Maybe I’m doing something I’m not supposed to be doing, but I’m a little lost, I don’t really know. Am I in trouble? I don’t want to be in trouble, and I don’t want to go where I’m supposed to be or do what I’m supposed to do.”