Learning to Embrace My Title (Online Reflection #3)

We did it! The year is nearing the end, final papers and narratives are being written, projects and poster boards are covering the room, floor, and hallway, and the only thing anyone can talk about is the 8th grade formal this Friday. 

I know a lot of my fellow interns (myself included) still feel like frauds, interlopers in the profession, but the time to not feel like "real teachers" is drawing to a close. As we shadow in our new buildings and apply for our licenses, we must be willing to take up the mantel and really own who we are as professionals who have worked hard to learn even the small amount we feel we know. 

My students are currently writing narratives imitating the style and creativity of Sandra Cisneros's "My Name," in "The House on Mango Street." They deconstructed it, read an echo, and then began thinking on how to write their own. In an attempt to follow what many of our texts said to do in our "Theory and Practice in Composition" class, I have imitated it for my own life, both for the name "Claire" and the name "Mrs. Watkins." Today I will share my take on really owning both my name and the responsibility that comes with that title.

"My Name"

In society my name means “taken,” but in practice it means “teacher.” I claim the Mrs. when I said I do, but I was always just Miss Claire until there were struggling learners calling and reinforcing it. It means the hope of clarity, of answers, of questions evaporating as the name whines out across the humid room. It is the sound of adulthood; checks being written and companies to call, appointments to be made and people to be responsible for. 

It means tired. When embraced, it is papers spilling out of heavy bags and stickers finding themselves being washed onto sweaters. It comes from a long line of teachers before me, especially my father-in-law. Mr. Watkins, or simply Coach. It means a legacy of caring for young people while pushing them harder than I always understood to a greatness that they didn’t often believe they had. I did not inherit any of his athletic ability, but I aspire to glean his impact on teens.

At times it gets butchered, sometimes out of neglect, sometimes out of love. Miss. Mrs. W. Watts. Teacher. Teeeeeacher. Please learn my name Aaron. I don’t learn any of my teachers’ names. Okay fine. “This is my favorite teacher, Mrs. Watkins.” That one hit me hard. To be given that title is to be given the honor of a memory of a successful adult, looking back on their 8^th grade year with (hopefully) fondness of “that year we had a student teacher who had no clue how to handle the class with 4 girls and 13 boys immediately after lunch.”

I fell in love with this name as a romanticized version of who I was now that I was part of a Watkins team, but the name became more and more mine as I grew in confidence and pride as an educator, someone who deserved respect, someone still growing, but a mere Miss Claire no more.

Learning to Juggle the Responsibilities of Being in Charge (Online Reflection #2)

As Spring Break draws near, I often just feel worn. I feel like I give too many chances, yet have to apologize sometimes for my classroom management missteps. I have really enjoyed taking over the class this last unit, but it was very eye-opening to see the myriad of responsibilities that a teacher takes on beyond teaching the class. I always said I knew that in my head, but to be handed it all in the span of a month was a bit overwhelming.

I spent a week not putting in any grades and had my teacher nervous the students were all failing, I forgot to send work down to the In-School Suspension room and made a student fall behind, I had to call parents for behaviors then forgot to input them in the spreadsheet, I lost first hours graded paper piles not once—but three times—before I entered them into Synergy, I didn’t make dinner for two weeks straight and woke up on a Friday genuinely believing it was Saturday.

What it really came down to was that the plan hours and after work moments didn’t and don’t feel like enough time to “purposefully plan,” go to IEP meetings, eat lunch with kids, and fill out all of the various forms and documentation required to be teaching. I began wondering how I was going to remember to do it all and stop dropping the different balls I’ve been trying to juggle. My desk is covered in sticky notes and my phone is full of reminders, but things still seem to slip through the cracks.

As I started searching for some input for this issue, I found some disheartening statistics as well as some encouraging tips from administrators and teachers alike. As it turns out, teachers were surveyed at working 53 hours a week, 27 of which were spent doing non-teaching activities from grading to planning to parent contacts. This could discourage me, but I needed to find ideas to help me learn to overcome this, because I know that it’s not a condition that goes away after student teaching. With the blessing of a secure job next year, the realities of the next school year weigh heavily as the stress of finding a job has eased.

The biggest tips I have learned from a Prezi presentation I found were both for my time at school and time at home. At school, it was encouraged to get there early and get a jump on things while there is less distraction. As much as I hate mornings, I definitely admit that it would be a good thing for me to do. My social butterfly tendencies and deep FOMO (fear of missing out) has me out in conversations with other teachers in hallways and classrooms just getting to know them better during my plan period, and I don’t often take advantage of my time as well as I should. One of the home tips was to prioritize and schedule your time better, which I admit I also struggle with. When I get home from a long day, I tend to “reward” myself with not wanting to do anything at home, which you should take time for in moments, but can’t do all the time. If I use my time more wisely at home and reward myself for actual accomplishments, I would feel less stressed out in the long run.

What I’ve realized this week is that I can’t let the things that slip through the cracks discourage me; I need to pick myself up make positive changes and then celebrate them! In addition to my little organizational wins, the more little moments that I revel in like connecting with students or reading a great response need to keep me going. I have also been learning to lean more heavily on the Lord’s strength rather than my own. Having a more positive and joyful attitude that isn’t dependent on my own strength or circumstances has helped me to make it through the stressful weeks leading up to Spring Break. I’m grateful for the gospel and a Savior that accepts me even when I mess up my lessons and forget my grading, and I’m also grateful for a week of sleeping in and coffee dates! Happy Spring Break and happy KPTPing!

Learning From Parents' Stores of Knowledge (Online Reflection #1)

Goodness, how glad I am to be full time student teaching at my school this semester! I’ve met so many more crazy, intelligent, and creative kids, and I feel more a part of the community of educators than ever. Of course, student teaching comes with tired feet and an even more tired brain, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the change of schedule. I’ve even made it to the gym a few times already!

My accomplishments in juggling many areas of life pale in comparison to some of my students and their parents, however. In an urban, largely working class area, parents often must go to work early or come home late with their students walking a mile or two each morning in all kinds of weather. Once they arrive, we fill their heads with information they’ve never heard before and their hands with papers they may not keep track of all the way home and send them on their way. So often, I and other teachers have a tendency to judge parents who don’t communicate often, don’t make it to conferences or other activities, or seem to not be as “interested” in education as our middle class, mostly white families “were.” Between reading some of Samway and McKeon’s thoughts and getting to know several of my English Language Learner’s stories and families, I realize just how wrong I was.

One concept that really struck me was the idea that we naturally assume we, teachers, are the sole distributors of knowledge and forget that parents have a unique opportunity to educate and influence their kids. So often, parents of my students have life experience in areas I have no idea about and will never be able to learn in the same meaningful way. Though they may not be able to write a paper on Chaucer, they provide equally valid points of view I should not take for granted, whether they are an ELL or not.

At my first experience of parent teacher conferences, I really got down to the heart of the matter. I met moms, dads, brothers, and sisters who all had different perspectives and yet were all there to see their student’s educational and social goals met. We spoke with a dad worried about his daughter and some girl drama through an interpreter, we met with a mom and grandmother who were in tears advocating for their struggling student, and a dad who was profoundly proud of his son’s progress, despite his mother’s battle with cancer. Each of these students had felt like underprepared, struggling isolated incidents until I took the time to learn and value where they were coming from and what their parents had to offer. This is one benefit to the idea of home visits, especially for parents who may be intimidated by a school setting.

As the Samway and McKeon reading encouraged home visits, so did an article by TESOL about tapping into funds of knowledge. Here they give some really helpful ideas on how to encourage students’ past experiences to our advantage, with various activities for students to showcase their cultures to their peers. Another good resource from AdLit.org backed up many of the strategies with research that students are most successful in English and their native language when they have strong skills in that native language. This can help in the ever-raging debate about acculturation versus preservation of a student’s language and culture.   AdLit advocated for encouraging students to keep up their native language at home and to be open to allowing other languages to be casually spoken in class. That is a tricky area, because it can make teachers very uncomfortable to have students speaking right in front of them and yet not know what they are saying, and the article really only told us to have some professional development on it, so I don’t really know the answers to that yet. I do think there is real value in figuring out the best strategies for handling it though, because I want to be culturally inclusive of ELLs and their reality while still maintaining order in the classroom.

This year, and this reading, has once again humbled me and taught me a great deal about not only my students, but myself and my inner biases. I look forward to researching more about ESOL programs and activities, as well as engaging parents who may be struggling to connect with schools on a more regular basis. What do you think about families’ stores of knowledge? What are some strategies or pros and cons to allowing students to speak in their native languages in your classroom?