This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.
My friend Mardi died four and a half years ago or so, but she was in my dream last night. She doesn’t show up in my dreams a lot anymore, but it’s always so nice to see her.
She was late to a picnic full of teachers I worked with long ago.
That should have been my first indicator that this was a trick of the mind. She would have never been late in real life.
“It’s raining.” She said when she arrived
“Really?” I asked and she showed me how her dress had sprinkles of water, and the back of it was wet from accidentally sitting in a puddle.
Another indication that this was not a real event. Mardi wouldn’t sit in a puddle. This was a woman who had a white winter coat that she always kept clean.
We sat and chatted and I told her I how I changed my desk configuration to try to help my class focus.
This is actually true in real life. Just yesterday after school I rearranged my desks. We’ll see if it makes an impact.
“I mean, I had everyone facing each other, and then I kept reminding them to stop talking. That’s on me.” I said.
She laughed in agreement.
Then I told her how I have to have another lunch bunch for kids to finish their missing work.
I must have been teaching sixth-grade in this dream.
“They really can’t get work done in the loud cafeteria,” I explained. “But if they come here I feel bad that they don’t get a lunch.”
She gave me one of her classic looks.
For this, I am so grateful for my dream. I miss that Mardi look.
“Just have them eat their lunch and then come back to do their missing work,” she said. She reminded me that it’s okay to keep my expectations high.
How she did this with a look and a sentence might sound like it is only in a dream. But, real-life Mardi could say a lot with a look and a sentence.
I wish that dream picnic could have lasted longer, but my alarm was loud, and the picnic and support session was over in a flash.
I don’t need a dream interpretation website for this one. It was lovely for Mardi to visit me in my dream to give me some teaching advice and encouragement.
It’s not her fault that it makes me cry to remember her dream visit.
Knowing her, she knows my tears are mostly because I miss her. And just a teensy bit because I only get an instructional coach in my dreams.
This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me
What do you care most about?’
This is what I asked myself last night when I was getting scattered about my plans for the first few days of school. There is just so much to do. It turns out I care about a lot of things.
I’ve been trying to coach myself to start the school year.
I want to take my own head in my hands and sternly say,
Focus!
But, I’m giving myself grace.
I’m reminding myself that I believe in “ishing” it.
Nothing needs to be perfect. You are enough.
Thank goodness for that because nothing is perfect.
Nothing is perfect, but so many things are good! What you focus on grows, what is happening that is good?
I finally made a book display I’ve been wanting to make, and I brought in my old Fisher Price school set pieces to add to the Back to School display. It’s so cute and nostalgic, I just want to keep looking at it.
My felt panels didn’t fall down for a third time, I found a place for the giant calendar, my peel and stick paper looks just like I wanted it to, I brought plants in and I have hope they will survive… Oh! I finally remembered to bring the little baby stuffed cougar to school!
Soon I will meet my second-graders and their families, and I will figure out which nicknames are the right ones! Soon I will find a way to hang the macrame picture hanger things I got so that I can clip student work to it.
Soon I will print out schedule cards that actually fit in my schedule pocket chart, and dates to hang on my magnetic curtain rod.
Soon I will figure out all the systems.
Speaking of systems, soon I will figure out what to do with that one space between my desk and the shelf where things are shoved, and soon I will find a paper organizer that works for me.
Soon. I will find a way to focus on the heart of what I will be teaching, and also soon I will learn how to send emails to families, and maybe even how to take attendance.
Soon, I will read aloud books and write with kids, and soon we will figure out the ways to talk about math.
This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.
Exit Interview
A first-grader recently asked their teacher, “What’s an exit interview?”
Because first-grade teachers know how to explain all the things, she answered,
“It’s a conversation you have with a person who was in charge of something when that something is done and they ask you questions about how it went.”
Since then, I’ve been thinking about exits.
I’ve never had an exit interview. That’s not the point. The point is, I’ve exited many times.
Once I taught second-grade and I thought, “I should probably always teach second-grade.”
I was sure I’d be one of those teachers who teaches the same thing for all the years of my career. But there wasn’t an opening there the next year.
The last week of school, my principal said, “Oh Ona, what are we going to do without you?”
(Was that an exit interview?) and I said,
“What am I going to do without a job?”
I sobbed saying goodbye to my second-graders.
Have you ever loved a group of kids? Have you ever worked every day with a community of learners? Have you ever said goodbye?
I hope they aren’t traumatized by that to this day – their second-grade teacher at the classroom door, tears streaming down her face.
The next year I went to sixth-grade.
“Middle school! God bless you!” Everyone said. Everyone. They were right, I was blessed. Sixth graders rock. I knew that after my second year there, not my first year – no that year was tough.
After my second year there, I thought, “I should probably always teach sixth-grade.”
Have you ever laughed with 11 year-olds? Have you ever had students beg to stay in from recess to finish a read-aloud? Have you ever watched a preteen become a reader? A writer?
I stayed for years, with many temporary exits to stay home with my babies. My babies!
One year I decided I wanted to lean into working with teachers too. I went to elementary school and I coached. I fell in love with life in elementary school.
Who wouldn’t?
Have you ever walked the hallway of an elementary school? Have you ever known kids for their entire elementary career? Have you ever met an elementary teacher?
Coaching is a lot of things, in case you were going to Ask.
Have you ever made relationships your top priority? Have you ever taught lessons in all the grades? Have you ever leaned in to vulnerability just to enter a closed door or a conversation? Have you ever presented to hundreds or sometimes just 2 teachers? Have you ever learned so much every day from so many people – from 5 year olds on up?
I even started to learn how to be a good listener. Small steps.
After a few years, I thought, “I should probably always coach.”
Even though I missed having my own classroom of kids. I know, they are all all our kids. But,
Have you ever taught your own class? Have you ever gathered kids on the carpet? Have you ever had inside jokes with 7 year-olds?
I missed it, but I loved coaching. So long story short –
I reinterviewed for the job I had been doing and they said
Congratulations! You are now a permanent coach.
Permanent is a weird word, because what it really meant was not permanent.
If I were to give myself an exit interview, I think my questions might be different from those someone is meant to ask. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had an exit interview.
But I would ask myself questions like:
Can you describe the feeling of walking down the hall, a sea of familiar kids you’ve known since they started Kindergarten?
What does your heart do when a student calls out your name in the morning, or stops you to show you a special item they have with them?
What is your favorite question a student ever asked? Why was it, “When are you going to come back and teach writing again?”
Why did you laugh every day? What were the best things kids say?
What did it feel like when a door was closed? How did you know if you were welcome in a classroom?
What was our best decision while you were coaching? What was our worst? Why are you baffled?
Why do you think that teachers can do so much when we do it together?
What story paints a picture of the impact coaching can have?
What questions do you want me to ask you?
I may not really know how to do an exit interview, but I think I might start them with my second-graders next year. Perhaps my questions to myself are a good starting place for second-grade versions.
How did you feel in second grade? Did your classmates and teachers know you? What was your favorite question this year? What made you laugh? Did you feel welcome at school? What were our best decisions this year? What were our worst? How did it feel to work together? What story will you remember most about second-grade? What questions do you want me to ask you?
This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.
I first tried this format here, originally from Ethical ELA: A True or False List Poem . . . There are some things that are true, there are some things that are false, and you’ll never really know!
Today I
accidentally cried a lot threw 92 starfish into the ocean one by one wore a t-shirt that said “When I’m not sad or mad, I’m ok.” wrote 3 slices of life laughed at two terrible pictures of myself flooded a classroom with sink water said the word butt to first and second graders at least 20 times got armloads of gifts drank 104 ounces of water walked 10,793 steps took a picture with one of my students from my first year teaching found out my high school social studies teacher died this week watched 3 episodes of ER with my daughter taught second-grade
This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24. I’m slicing on Tuesdays. I hope you’ll join me
I want to make a point, or at least an analogy so I close my eyes what story could I tell from today from 10 years ago from second grade?
Or rather what story could I share because I have plenty to tell that email that conversation that canceled meeting
Today we cried about a drink carrier it was the one from our first coffees in our first home
Endings are beginnings and all that jazz so why do I hear The Doors This is the end Beautiful Friend The end?
In other news, I watched a Kindergarten class cheer for a friend after he read good Job! they said we love you! and I thought to myself wow kids really get how to take care of each other
For seven years I have peeked into this class or that, a quiet inquiry, “Can I join you? How might I help?” Some doors were locked at first. But, we chose to take a chance with each other. I’m selfish you know. I’ve learned so much in seven years.
This slice is part of the 17th annual Slice of Life Story Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24 I’m slicing every day this month, for the 11th year! Wahoo!!! Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
I was so inspired by Fran’s Relax slice, and I’ve been trying different versions on my own. But, it’s hard! Today I read a lot of people’s March Slice of Life wrap up slices, and I thought … what if I did a wrap up Relax slice? It might seem depressing … but the cool thing is that I’m still standing! Here’s my try, from my month of slices: Relax. It’s March (Soon Enough, It Will Be April)
Relax. It’s March. Things are going to be bad. You will realize you have been wearing the tag on your shoe in public. It will make you laugh, and write. You will be angry about things you can’t quite publish. You will know you will never be as unf***withable as your friend was. Noticing things all month will become an issue. There won’t be any paper towels or plastic garbage bags at your airbnb and you will sob saying goodbye to your daughter. You will continue to parent teenagers. An honor, for sure, but also so tiring being a punching bag. You will go to Home Goods and realize that death is just around the corner, and you will not practice your therapist’s advice in order to pause that catastrophic anxiety. The SATs will come and go. Your son will curse at his computer screen while practicing. This will make you feel, once again, like a bad mom. Your kids will roll their eyes at you. A lot. Spring break will end, and all the poetry you write will not stop school from coming in like a lion. Even your dog will be embarrassed by you, although he is an old man, not a teenager. The world of education will continue to go mad, citing research that the powerful cherry pick. Meanwhile, you will go in and out of classrooms finding joy but not realizing you should have been paying attention to how the teachers took lunch count. It will warm your heart to hear your cat play, but she will be alone without her cat brothers which will break your heart. People will be scared to voice their opinions, and you will feel like a storm is coming. You will worry that more things will be thrown out with the bath water. Your dog will get sick which you won’t write about, because ew, gross. You will try to remember that it won’t be winter forever but anxiety will take hold as you wait for a meeting. You will try to spend your energy thinking about little joyful things. You will realize almost nobody can be trusted, and that fumbling through new things is in your future. A glass will get stuck in your garbage disposal. You will lose faith, but you will always have poetry, which will help you march on. Undappled won’t be the word you want it to be. There will be too many questions in your head, and you will search for answers. You will be reminded of betrayal, as if you need to be reminded. Your filter will disintegrate, and you will stop watching your face, but your connections will just keep growing. You will be proud of your kids, even when you have to use google translate. The Easter Bunny won’t leave jelly beans on the piano, but there will be a scavenger hunt for the teenagers, and then there will be a quiet Sunday afternoon. Soon enough, it will be April.
This slice is part of the 17th annual Slice of Life Story Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24 I’m slicing every day this month, for the 11th year! Wahoo!!! Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
Connecting laptops zoom, zoom, zoom breathing in and out in and out in and out in and out taking notes with colored marker writing presentation notes and quotes that really make you think, like when the presenter answered,
The rubric is very Specific How do I explain this? It’s generalized. You can look at the other ones if you want to — But it’s generic So if you need to, you can just explain it to the students
Wait, what?
There’s so much to laugh about good thing you can round it out with some crying
No worries though there are colored markers! and also friends books knitting and a baby visit!
So I guess, all-in-all, even though I may roll my eyes at a rubric that is very specifically generic I get to roll my eyes in good company and at the end of the day, it is mostly about Connecting
This slice is part of the 17th annual Slice of Life Story Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol24 I’m slicing every day this month, for the 11th year! Wahoo!!! Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
Calm Down
the months I knew for sure my friend was going to die but didn’t know my husband was screwing my kids’ teacher a song kept coming on my shuffle, trying to get me to pay attention to my instincts
I would sob on the way home from visiting my dying friend
Breathe It’ll be okay
later I found out how true the song actually was
so it seems pretty dramatic that work is making me sing that same song I’m rolling my eyes at myself here
nobody’s dying (besides all of us at some point) I’m not even married anymore
just put on, put on, put on your best shoes… and do it with a smile so that no one knows it’s put on, put on, put on
so I should just be able to
breathe it’ll be okay
I already know the sting of betrayal so maybe that is why dignity matters to me truth is important to me and I find it hard to back down from my instincts since I said I’d never doubt them again
hold on to everything you know to be true don’t let the wolves get the best of you breathe
On a Thought 