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 I Hope Counts for Writing This Summer
Lists To Do: Home and School Grocery Amazon Wish Lists Chore post-its that kids groan at Emails asking questions Texts to the children who don’t respond to texts even though I know they look at their phones enough maybe I should write them a memo, would they respond to certified mail or would carrier pigeon work better? to the plumber to my mom telling her we are late to the pool to friends How are you, how is your daughter, how’s your foot? How was vacation? LOL, so funny, right? I’m sorry, I’m such a mess, I don’t know if I can. How about tomorrow? When can we plan, write, shop, walk, hang out? Wait, what? This looks cool. Would this work? Cute bins at target now! Notes from therapy Recommendation notes for books to read, TV to watch, movies to see Letters I’m writing in my head to terrible doctors, toxic people Scribbled math on post-its Budget spreadsheets
Does Clicking count as writing? I click to check off my to do list I click that little bookmark on Instagram I click to save, pin, share add to cart proceed to checkout, deliver to this address, place your order
At school I’ve scribbled and typed Bookshelf dimensions Wall dimensions Bulletin board dimensions Supply labels Shelf labels Book bin labels Calendar numbers Display letters Even planning documents Did I mention the school To Do Lists? I’ve filled notebook pages
I really hope some of this counts Especially This List
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
Teacher summer is like nesting for me It’s okay if it’s different for you
I love getting ready for school organizing, planning . . . and also wow it’s a lot sometimes it feels impossible to hope it will all get done
Like seriously, how?
My 37 boxes, 3 shelves and ottoman – work ordered to my new classroom but still waiting at my old one – have been weighing on my mind. I can’t focus, or rest, without getting my new space settled.
I wondered if I had done the work order correctly.
One of the custodians told me a thriller of a story about the year someone’s things didn’t get delivered until the day before in service.
How can you organize all the things in your classroom without all the things in your classroom?
“We’ll just take the truck and get it ourselves,” my friend Kris said last week.
And I feel like I would need 1,000 slices of life to explain how many times Kris has done this – had a solution shown up
So yesterday, we texted a plan to meet at school today at 9:30. Kris, her husband, his truck and me.
Our friend Krista chimed in, “I’ll meet you there.”
And I would not be exaggerating to say I had no words but I did actually cry a bit because friends — Friends do you have friends who say “I’ll meet you there?”
I hope you do.
When I got to school at 9:25 this morning, I saw a big truck, crept around to look inside and saw half of my stuff loaded on.
My work order worked!
Timing, right?
We pivoted – it’s a thing.
My friends met me at my new classroom, the truck delivered all my things, Kris’ husband left to go golf, and we got to work.
We moved some shelves. We moved them again. We moved them again.
“How do people do this when they don’t have friends who are teachers?” I asked.
We unpacked 37 boxes, organized, reorganized.
I held things up and said, “Tell me I can throw this away.”
They said “Throw it away.”
I want to tell you about the cabinets that are too deep but also too small to hold all the supplies I need them to hold. I want you to picture the bins I took out of several of those 37 boxes. Bins of pipe cleaners and paint, buttons, small wooden cubes, wooden characters, beads, special tape, play doh.
I need you to understand that some people might laugh at me if I pulled out another bag of stick-on googly eyes, or asked where I should store the stick-on ladybugs.
“Do they go with the googly eyes?” (We decided yes.)
There are many good people out there who would get mad if after we thought the cabinet was done with the bins finally fit together like a perfect Tetris, I found another wooden stick person. But not Kris and Krista. They just said, “Oh! I know exactly where that bin is now!”
This is what I’m talking about friends!
It was a hot day today. A summer break day today.
I don’t want to sound dramatic but My friends gave me hope today.
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 tell you about this little boy today.
He was trying to explain why he was going to throw away his art project, how his picture had gotten ruined. As he explained it to his teacher, his face got shakier, his eyes filled with tears. He had accidentally pushed someone, the crumpling of his paper was the retaliation. He was convinced that there was nothing left to do but throw the paper away.
I tried to see what was wrong with his picture, but his face was more crumpled than the page.
His teacher listened intently and then said,
“It sounds like this is really upsetting for you. I can help you figure this out. Why don’t you go put your stuff on your desk and then –
I can help you with this. It will be okay.”
He gave his picture to his teacher turned to walk back into his classroom, nodding and sniffing, tried to pull himself together.
His teacher and I spun so kids couldn’t see our faces Both pointing to our own eyes, filled with tears now tried to pull ourselves together too.
“I don’t know if I can do this teaching thing afterall,” I said.
I mean, how will my heart take it?
She nodded her head and we looked at the barely crumpled picture for a moment.
“The picture is fine though, right?” I asked
She gave it a once over, nodded, flattened the page a little extra, took a deep breath and walked into her classroom where I know she helped one crumpled boy
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
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!
Are You Supposed to Like, Write?
wait are you supposed to write when you’re like angry? I forget sometimes weird, since it’s been so many times, asking for you to read between the lines
should I speak frankly? or wait until I’m less cranky? like if I feel I don’t know like betrayed (not the affair charade) being played while others watch the masquerade there’s disquiet should I be quiet?
should I button my lips wait for the bag of tricks to pass? what if like the person who wronged me reads what I write about them? then they’d know what they like did what I condemn what then?
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!
This morning my son went to get us Starbucks’s. I mean, he drove. I paid. That’s how things work around here. “Should I order on my phone or yours?” He said, like some sort of master negotiator
When he got back he was sorry to be late he had seen a bear cross the street, tried to follow it a bit, lost sight as it sauntered into the trees by the bus stop.
“I guess. . . Make a lot of noise when you go to the bus,” I said because we are not afraid of bears here I mean, it’s not like a man was running towards the bus stop
I left my Starbucks refresher for later carried my dry laundry upstairs thought about how I should have taken the dog’s barks more seriously last night instead of telling him okay, yelling at him to chill out about the neighbor’s cat oops
After my shower I proudly started to put my clothes away in the closet like I imagine real grown-ups do in the morning before school before school! I imagine those real grown-ups might not scream for their 17 year old when a creepy crawly bazillion leg bug crawls out of the pants they are about to fold But I did I screamed then told myself I can do this I can do this I can do this I don’t need a husband Who probably wouldn’t have helped anyway I can catch this thing in something something something I need something I turned to find that something something something there must be something on my dresser
I’m not a bug squasher, not a bug killer I’m more catch and release less murder
But when I turned back around the bug was gone – he will never know how nice I was going to be but now, I thought… I’ll write it, even though I don’t want to That bug had to be somewhere in my bed I yelled for my son to come help me again “Bring a vacuum or we have to sell our house!”
I tried to carefully shake the blankets my dog looked at me confused my cat ran under the bed my son warned me to be careful! you might touch it! it’s going to jump out of there! I didn’t get far in my quest it was time to go to school
So later I will decide Strip the bed, vacuum, look in every cranny or sleep on the couch?
Lucky for me help must be on the way because after school I found not the bug but the boys’ wanted poster they must have made before catching the bus HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BUG? LAST SEEN: MOM’S PANTS So although it may be true that apparently we are more scared of bugs than bears here we also know how to laugh in the face of fear and make clever wanted posters
It’s April, and I’ve been writing poetry …all month! Thanks to Ethical ELA for all the great prompts and inspirations!
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!
Today, I’m using the inspiration from EthicalELA: 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!
My Day: True or False?
Today I
laughed with kindergarteners when they called me Grandma ate my veggies and mac and cheese lunch at 2:00 fell off a chair and didn’t report it walked my dog twice in the sunshine was betrayed by someone who knows who they are cried with teachers about things that don’t make sense made big decisions I’ll soon regret spoke my truth but too softly for anyone to hear drank 3 cups of coffee before noon planned arguments and poetry back to back wrote a diamante about service leadership told someone off who will never forget or forgive took a nap on the couch, my book dropped to the floor baked brownies for tomorrow, a day off of school
On a Thought 