Category Archives: Slice of Life

A Slice of … What’s a Coach?

Reflections on coaching, Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfe

This is part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life. Find out more, and join in here.

I haven’t started my job yet, but many people are asking me what I’ll be doing as an Instructional Coach. After I told my students that I would be leaving to go be an Instructional Coach, they had the same question.

So I asked them to think of coaches they’ve had. “What do your coaches do? 

“Yell at us!” a few students said, in their ever-present ability to help me refine my questioning.

“Okay. Think about one of your favorite coaches. What kinds of things do they do? 

The answers… they made me wish I were in front of a piece of chart paper or my computer, instead of sitting on the rug in the circle.

“My coach pushes us to practice.”

“Supports us during our game.”

“Coaches play with us.”

“Let us play new games. My coach thinks that playing other games actually helps us with our game.”

“Coaches are there for you.”

I think my 6th graders’ tips are good ones to start me off as I start to learn my new role!

A slice of Thanks

Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfe

This is part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life. Find out more, and join in here.

A day that starts with this anonymous note on the board is sure to have some good in it. IMG_5542.JPG

I stole an idea from The Hands Free Revolution facebook page for writing today. We talk a lot about how writing is power, but today I told the kids that I think writing is a gift too. We talked about gratitude, and about how sometimes it’s easier to write something from the heart than to say it. I shared the sentence starters with the class and they started writing notes to the people they wanted to thank and appreciate over their Thanksgiving break. I wanted to read everyone’s thank you’s because man, they must be beautiful. But, they are private, so I didn’t.

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Later, a student touched a nerve with yet another out of turn comment, and I breathed mindfully. We spoke in private, where I told my truth — that I was starting to feel hurt by the constant sarcastic jokes today. At the end of the day, he handed me a rolled up note, and said “This is for later.”

Before I read the note, I  wanted to cry about the kindness of it. After I read it, I wanted to share it with you. But, it’s is private, so I won’t.

I hope you have the chance to thank someone this week. It really is a wonderful way to brighten their day.

Sentence Starters we used from  The Hands Free Revolution

• I’ll never forget when you …

• I appreciate how you …

• I’m sorry that sometimes I …

• What I love most about you is …

• I have you to thank for …

• Five words to describe you are:

• Our family wouldn’t be the same without your …

 

A Slice of “1 Page then 2.”

Slice of Life

Slice of LIfe

This is part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life. Find out more, and join in here

George Bailey’s impassioned speech at the end of It’s A Wonderful Life keeps playing in my head, only it’s me, crying “Please! I want to write again! I want to read again! I want to run again!”

Moving has been, continues to be all consuming. . . In its first-world way.

The slices have been, continue to be everywhere…Snapshots of

leaving and crying

arriving and smiling

boxing and unboxing

Taking three days out of the classroom last week means I’m still catching up.

What I want to do is write and read and go on a run. Luckily, last month I read Donalyn Miller’s piece, Fallow Fields. I’m fairly sure she didn’t mean this… this days on end of life-is-too-busy-I-can’t-sit-and-read-or-write-plus-my-books-are-still-packed. But, her piece helps me feel less guilty.

On Monday I confessed to my class. I said, “I’ve been so busy. I’m living out of boxes. I had to pack up my books, and my digital library loan ended right in the middle of my last book. I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been reading.  I haven’t been running. How many of you have ever had a break between books where it’s hard to pick up the next book?” So many kids raised their hands, some with guilty expressions.

I told them (and myself) that readers and writers and runners take breaks sometimes — and that even super strong readers can have trouble getting back to it. Then I asked them for help. “How am I going to start again? I can’t pick up a book and read it all right now. I can’t go run a 5K, it’s been too long!”

A student raised his hand and told me advice he learned from his gym teacher. He thinks it could go for anything. “Just start slowly. Read one page one day, and then two the next.”

Brilliant advice. He’s totally right. I told my class that this was one of the extra benefits of being a teacher: A whole room full of advisors and people to cheer you on as you try to reach your goals.

So tonight, I’m taking his advice: 1 slice at a time.

 

A Slice of Letting Go

Family, Slice of Life,

Slice of LIfe

This is part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life. Find out more, and join in here!

Home. It’s where the heart is. Home is where your family is. It’s certainly not the big box you keep all your furniture in, right?

Let go. This is my mantra these days, as we have gotten our house ready to sell.

I said it to myself as I boxed up, threw out, gave away stuff. I said it as we staged the house, making it look like we would never in a million years leave legos all over the floor, or crumbs on the counter, or clutter on the dining room table, or laundry in the washer.

Let go. I said it as I stood outside in my green backyard next to my apple tree, painting the last of a few doors that needed to be finished. I repeated it as I looked at the view of mountains and blue sky.

I say it each time I ask my husband  to remind me why we decided to move. (We need more space, it’s time to move closer to my school, it’s good for the kids in the long run, it’s best for our family. Repeat after me; We need more space, it’s time to move closer to my school, it’s good for the kids in the long run, it’s best for our family…)

Let go: As we turned on all the lights, put never-used white towels on hooks, never-used tablecloth on the table, never-used throw pillows, for showings and open houses; and as we took all those things off again. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat, each time we ushered kids out of the house.

I remind myself to let go when I tell L that, “Moving is hard. And, we can do hard things.” I also remind myself that deciding to move when your daughter is 12 is maybe not the best decision.

Let go: As we initialed 20 times accepting an offer.

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Now I sit in my dining room. It’s pleasant. It’s clean. There’s no clutter. (Well, a little has crept back on shelves and the coffee table, corners…. if you know where to look, to be honest) Our personal pictures are packed away from the staging, and Mr. Thought tells me this is good. We are slowly letting go of this being our home.

So I work to let go. I focus on the positives.We finally made the decision to move after years of debate, and we followed through! We had a fast sale! (Well, knock on wood… still lots of hoops to jump through, t’s to cross, i’s to dot…) We are blessed with the chance to get a house that fits our family better! A new young couple gets to start their life in this great house, in this wonderful neighborhood! It feels good to think about their excitement.

But, I still tear up when I talk about it, and it’s still hard for me to think about this not being our home.

A Slice of people watching: Middle Son Edition

Family, Slice of Life, TeachersWrite, ,

Slice of LIfe  . . . and. . . 11037905_10154067646782516_5750329657918691438_n

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for info and links to more Slicing! Today’s slice inspired by today’s prompt on #TeachersWrite

I’m driving and my attention is on the road, but with three kids in the backseat, my rearview mirror glances award me more than a road view. I’m watching you. You are joking with your sister and brother. I hear you. Your laughter is a delight. You are funny, but your words quickly become cutting. I don’t know why. Your little brother is growing a thick skin. I give you reminders to be kind, and tell you to stop. And then I watch as you decide to put your hands out your window. All I see is your hands raised to the sky, and I know that feeling: the air pushing on you, the wind so loud. Your hair is blowing from your face, and I wonder what is happening in your mind. I’m hoping you are feeling peaceful with the white noise, and the chance to let go of impulse control and just breathe. The next time I glance back you have a water bottle hanging out of the window too, and you are experimenting with drops. They are falling out of the bottle directly into the car. You have invented a misting air conditioner, and nobody else in the backseat seems to mind. I wonder about the water since I can’t see it leaving the bottle, but I can see it on your face and hair, and I can hear your brother and sister laugh as you say “Our own rainstorm!” I’m proud of myself. I smile at your antics, and your joy. Checking myself, I don’t feel an urge to have you stop.

We turn down the road that leads to the coffee shop, and suddenly your brother and sister complain loudly, “Ugh!” and “He dumped the rest of his slushy out the window!” and “It’s all over the car!”

I’m annoyed, and I’m sure the drive through barista thought it was weird, but that’s okay. I decided that it’s no big deal. My annoyance is easily forgotten if I just picture you: hands out the window, hair blowing in the breeze.

Slices: Bikes, rides, and getting back on

Family, Slice of Life,

Slice of LIfe Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for info and links to more Slicing!

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It’s a long story, why everyone needed a bike at the same time –Why we ended up at the store even after other, more sustainable, cheaper options were suggested. But that’s where we were. All the other shoppers looked at me like I was crazy – buying 4 bikes at once. I wanted to explain to each evil eye: “My bike was stolen 2 years ago! My daughter’s bike is too small and broken! My 8 year old has been riding my hand me down bike for 2 years! It has no gears! My 5 year old tried a goodwill bike last year and it wouldn’t pedal, and the training wheels bent…” But instead, I smiled and laughed at us… the kids riding their bikes to the checkout, me wheeling mine while I shouted after them.

“Be careful! Slow down!”

Image

Even the woman ringing up our purchase seemed mad. I told her that the Assembler had told us my youngest son’s bike was $50, not $80. Even after her manager gave her the go ahead to charge us $49.95, she scoffed at us, annoyed, I guess, that I was getting a better bargain on my smallest bike purchase.

IMG_2949The next day we strapped our bikes on to the van, and headed to a nearby bike path with my sister, Aunt Awesomeness. After a small mishap of using the bike rack incorrectly (Note: don’t strap it to the window!) we were on our way. Aunt Awesomeness kept up with the big kids while I followed E. He was a trooper for 5 whole miles on his training wheels, and this is the true slice I want to remember: My bike ride with E.

I tried not to bump into him when he slowed down, and I tried to limit my yelling of “Be careful!” as much as possible. I tried to teach him how to use his brakes on the downhills, and how to keep pedaling on the uphills. I tried not to scream as he gained speed going down the steep parts, and not to cry when he fell. I told him it was okay to fall, and that he needed to get back on. (I only took a picture of the fall after he was okay. I promise.)

I breathed it in: the beautiful day and his little voice calling to me from his bike:

“This uses energy!”

“Is this exercise?”

“This isn’t motorized so it didn’t use gas.”

“Doesn’t this feel like we are going across the country? And I’m not even thirsty yet!”

….(5 minutes later…) “I need a break. I’m thirsty.”

“Did you see me going down that hill? It’s as fun as LEGOS! Even funner.”

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A Slice of Comment Codes

Slice of Life

Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for information and links to more Slicing!

Dear Students,

When you see your report card and it says Comment 07: “Behaves appropriately,” will you know that what I meant is that I see how hard it is for you each day? Will you know I appreciate how you listened to my reminders, even though you wanted to roll your eyes?

When you see Comment C13: “Works well independently,” will you know that I respect your quiet way? That I wish I had sat down next to you more often?

How about Comment C05: “Positively contributes to classroom environment?” Please know that I appreciated your smile, and your kind words, and your positive leadership. Keep choosing happy as much as you can!

Comment C17: “Often requires prompting to focus and stay on task.” I don’t want to put this comment on your final report card. You and I both know that focus isn’t your strength yet. You have taken my prompting, and you have moved on. Sometimes you were annoyed at my prompting, and sometimes you took it in stride. School is hard work, thank you for bringing your best.

Comment C20: “Needs to make better use of work time.” Me too. Comment C28: “Needs to improve organization.” Don’t we all?

Your 6th grade report card will all too soon be a thing of your past, just like your 6th grade year. I want to make new comment codes for you:

I heard you.

I saw you.

I learned something from you.

Thank you.

A Slice of Anger, in rhyme

Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for information and links to more Slicing! It’s also April… So poetry it is!

I’m angry.

I'm angry.
So I’m choosing rhyme 
and a little bit of meter
to tell you about some
of the testing today, dear reader. 

I’m angry. 
So, I need to write
and hope that somebody is starting a fight. . . 
That people will stand up for 
what 
is 
right.

I’m angry.
So, I don’t quite trust
myself to write
something real, but not mean
before I head to bed tonight.

I’m angry. 
This testing day wasn’t 
so hard 
for me
It was not
overly 
stressful
I handled it fine
My students didn’t cry
Nobody had a fit
They sat where I 
told them to sit

Kids sucked on mints
behind privacy screens
and the testing cop 
wasn’t too mean.
He pointed to a hood on someone’s head
and handed me a piece of paper.
Nothing was said.

We had it easy in my room. 
Maybe because 
most of the kids I proctor
had breakfast and lunch
and will have supper.
Most are white
and middle class.
Most of them read pretty well, pretty fast.

I taught them to breathe
whenever they felt stress.
I told them they are worth 
so much more
than this test.

I assured them that whatever happened
our school wouldn’t close down
that I’d still be around
that they would be fine
even if they messed up 
a few times. 

I decided some things
while everything was silent
while I walked and I walked (and I walked) 
the aisles of this new classroom climate

I decided you should 
opt 
your 
kids 
out.
I decided it’s something we all need to shout.
I decided I’m angry 
at all the rules
and all this wasted time in our schools. 

I decided It’s about civil rights
and so much more.
It’s about standing up for others --
even if your own kids are fine 
not stressed
have a high score.

It’s about taking back assessment
so that it can mean something real.
It’s about caring more about 
how the actual children feel.