Presents Are Fun, But What Do You Give?

This music teacher had a lovely Christmas season.  The choir sang beautifully before the local Christmas parade, then sang the National Anthem for the Harlem Globetrotters.  The fourth graders performed their sweet little Christmas show with only a few glitches.  Little ones sang and danced and played jingle bells in class.  Who could ask for more?  I teach a bunch  (400+!) of sweet darlings that smile, laugh, hug, and love on a daily basis.

I got two sweet gifts from students this year. I am not a homeroom teacher, so there's never been loads of gifts.  As a one-time mom of elementary students, I understand it financially!! Anyway, I got a golden (my description to kids) cup with a lid and hot chocolate/marshmallows enclosed and a palm tree LED candle.  I love them, and I will keep them - if I may be truthful,in years past that hasn't always been the case. I think they are beautiful. I share this with you, my friends, so that you can see all sides of reality in the teaching world.  Please don't take this wrong - this is not a complaint!  I have, given the opportunity, always chosen the schools with a population that is more in need.  I choose to teach darlings that may not have much. I will state with no qualms whatsoever that sharing with these young people is more rewarding than any fancy basket full of gifts.  I get a deep satisfaction from what I can give them! If you are a teacher in a Title I or low-income school, you understand.  There are five things that I try to give children on a daily basis.  I believe giving these things is paramount to helping these young lives grow successfully.

First, I give them a positive interaction to start their day. It's a privilege to greet them at breakfast and call them by name.  Asking if they are all right and encouraging them to have a great day is a great start to my day as well.  Not all of these sweeties come from a routine of ease in the morning, so I do my best to instill confidence in them that school is calm, consistent and ready for them to do their best.

Second, I give small challenges.  I give challenges they can meet.  If they are a particularly rowdy individual, I encourage them to get right to work in the classroom without any fuss.  I encourage them to say "yes m'am" three times and just follow the instruction. All types of students rise to the challenges.  I encourage older ones to "kick their test in the rear end"! (I might even say "butt" and then act like I shouldn't have....it makes them laugh!) Sometimes they smile, laugh, or just hang their heads, but they all say that they'll try.  After that, I make sure I instill confidence and tell them "I KNOW you can!" - with my most brilliant you-can-do-it smile.

Third, I give assistance. Someone took your headphones on the bus?  Let's go get help. You accidentally came to school with you shirt inside-out?  You have permission to go fix it.  You lost the homework sheet?  Let's try to find another one.  Goodness knows my own children probably needed help in the morning in elementary school, in spite of my best efforts as a parent.  The students know that they can trust me to help.

Fourth, I give hugs.  Some little ones need "their hug" every day.  Others just occasionally need a "hey, you're great" hug.  We load them with responsibility and talk to them about how grown up they are all the time; but they are children.  And sometimes they need a hug.

Fifth, I give them love. I started a few years ago telling my students that I love them.  Saying it out loud, to their face.  It felt weird at first, I've always been somewhat reserved, but when it comes to children, those words are magic.  I tell them I love them with the first morning hug and I tell them when I am re-directing or correcting them.  At the end of the 2017 school year, a little six-year-old in Jackson, MS was murdered during a car theft.  It was driven home to me that these precious children can never hear those words enough - and I can do my part to say it.

Education has changed so much in the past century - I've personally witnessed the past thirty-five years from the teacher point of view.  As we collect data and reduce children to scores and graphs, it's more important than ever to remember that love helps them grow equally as much as any work they may be doing. I am so grateful to work at a school at which every adult knows this; they greet, challenge, help, hug and love the children the same way I do. It's worth it.

Teacher Talk

Tomorrow - my twenty-ninth first day of school as a teacher.  Considering I took five years off, I started teaching thirty-three years ago.  Boy, a lot has changed!  My first year teaching we used paddling as a consequence.  Like I said, times have changed.

Today, the last "teacher work day" before students come tomorrow, I realized something that has not changed.  Teacher talk.  Teachers can spend literal hours talking about teaching.  Do we talk about your children?  Probably; it's our job to help them grow and learn.  We rejoice with them when we do so successfully, and get frustrated when we can't help them reach every goal.  More often, though, we just talk about "how to teach".

"How to teach" is our favorite topic of conversation.  There is no outline, no agenda, just laughter, curiosity, and soaking up knowledge.  What about when they can't hold their pencil?  Try a giant crayon.  How did you get them to write complete sentences?  I used the peers that had it down as the 'sentence police'.  What about the one that blew snot bubbles to get out of standing on the wall at recess?  Oh no, you'll have to be a teacher to hear how to solve that one!

In the space of one hour at lunch today, seven of us learned more about classroom management from each other than we did from the "professional" that lectured us for three hours straight last week.  Because everything we attend must be structured, outlined, documented...on and on with the adjectives, we are never just given meeting time to just sit around and talk.  

Here's a novel idea, school districts, state CEU agencies, instructional specialists, etc.; create a meeting and call it Peer Mentoring.  Have a sign-in sheet, a cold classroom (from what I've seen it's a necessity for these meetings), snacks, water, and just let the teachers be.  Let them talk.  Let the experienced ones tell how they do this and the novice ones tell how they do that.  Let a group of teachers use their experience and knowledge to build each other up.  Teacher talk.  The meeting of the future.

Effective Classroom Management Gone Bad 8/19/14

Back to school for teachers.  The meetings, the hugs, the surprise announcements of pregnancy and engagements.  The excitement/boredom combination that only that particular week can bring.  I've been to two days now, and something is disturbing me.  It's August 2014, and the town of Ferguson, MO is in such a state of unrest that it's affecting our nation.  The National Guard has helped out, and fifty-seven people were arrested last night.  They were protesting, throwing Molotov cocktails at and even shooting at police.  (The article stated that only four of those arrested lived in Ferguson, proving that people will go a distance to protest and cause harm.)  I am not taking a stand on the Michael Brown case. I feel so sorry for his family, just as I do for anyone that loses a family member.  I am commenting on the vaguely-named "protesters".  If you know me at all, you know that I am seriously anti-violence.  I have trouble with the idea of military and war at all, but this world makes forms of such an evil necessity.  I do know that a family lost somebody they loved and cared about, and rather than use the peaceful tools available, many of these "protesters" are causing more harm, injury and even death to try to.........what?

Yesterday, we played a game with our teacher handbook.  Various questions were asked, teachers had to locate the page number and answer, then run up front and ring a bell and see if their teams answer was correct.  Shorthand:  these are the issues that teachers don't do well on, let's pound them in your head with a game.  I stopped participating when something on page 14 caught my eye.  Under "Principles of Effective Classroom Management" it stated:  "Discipline students in private.  Do not redirect or reprimand in front of the other students."

I am at a loss for words.  I don't know if I can keep teaching.  I can't ask some boys and girls in my classroom "Please stop talking."" "Please don't touch her" "Put your rhythm sticks away, you broke the rules."?  I know there are many other ways, but sometimes a polite direct request works the little miracle we need at the time.  I teach between forty and fifty-five students at a time.  Alone.  Do I have to step out in the hallway with a student that is not allowing me to teach due to misbehavior?  Who watches the others?

Today, we had a presentation on classroom management.  The presenter was all about being positive.  Before I go any further, I have to say that I pride myself on being positive with children, and encouraging them constantly by praising good behavior.  The presenter this morning claimed that she only ever does that, and the worst children that are having a "bad day" are brought around by her praise.  Going into my twenty-fifth year, I can agree with that technique, but only for about 75% of the time.  There are some individuals, small as they may be, that (due to whatever life has dealt them) don't care, don't listen to the praise, abuse the privilege of being treated nicely and even cause a violent happening to a fellow student or myself.

I think there are grown-ups that don't care to obey the law today because the authorities in their young lives let them see by example that they would be rewarded if they chose to do wrong.  Should the authorities in Ferguson need to take one protester at a time to a side street and have a talk with them?  That's what education in America has led them to expect.  I'm glad I only have a few years left, and I hope I didn't scar any of the little darlings that I've corrected in class over the last twenty-five years.

Double Classes and Taking a Breath

Double classes.  Sometimes it's terrible.  Sometimes it's perfectly fine.  Sometimes even - one hour of terrible followed by one hour of wonderful.  Double classes for a "large group" teacher does not mean two homerooms.  It means three to four homerooms of darling children.

It takes a certain amount of disciplinary skill to handle large group.  There's the authoritative voice, the appeal to all the years that they have known you (and your expectations), the promise of reward, and the occasional threat (and action) of having to "sit out".  It is possible to manage a large (from 60-90) group of students successfully if you have enough tricks in your bag.

Teaching double classes is difficult and sometimes annoying, but I only expound on that to relay the miraculous fact that I, on a day like today, can still be in a "good mood".

Someone like me, on their journey of grief, may smile, laugh or joke on the outside.  But for a long period of time, those looks and sounds are surface only.  I heard an actual account, just yesterday, of what others say about "how she's doing" (she being me).  They say "She's doing great!"  and best of all; "Her spirits are good."  The person that knows my spirits is someone I only speak to about once a week.

I am not calling those people liars.  They are telling the truth as they interpret it.  They are seeing my act on the stage that is my world.  The costumes, the makeup (Thank God!) the portrayal of expected emotions, and the utterances of the lines that everyone wants to hear.  I have fooled them all, haha!  Until now.  Today, my smile felt real.  Today, the feeling down deep inside matched the way my eyes crinkled with laughter.  On a double class day, no less!

It's a journey.  On a journey, you make progress.  Some are quicker, some are slower.  There is no minimum or maximum speed.  Some progress is internal.  Some is very public.  And some...well, some has to do with coming to terms with your new self because all of the sudden it's not as new, it's who you are.  It was an abrupt realization.  In my mind I compared it to someone in the movies or on TV that is knocked out and not breathing.....and then WHAM! - they take that breath and they're still alive.  My emotions did that recently.  That isn't a complete victory over inner sadness - it's just a break from it.  Like anything that starts, though, it can grow.

Today, I was doing great.  The life-saving breath experience was still a memory that made me feel happy inside. My spirits were good today.  It's about time, they've been bad inside for almost a year - in spite of what some others think.  You just couldn't see it.  Today, the double class did not incur my wrath.  (Wrath for me usually being a lecture, haha.)  Instead they incurred my humor and sly jokes that tricked them into behaving for me.  I know that actually feeling the happiness I've faked for so long won't be permanent, but I pray it won't be a stranger, either.

Briefcases and Tiffany hearts 2/8/14

There were these guys when I was in fifth or sixth grade.  They were smart.  They played kickball, did a little music, but mostly they were the smart guys.  Then all of the sudden, they all started carrying briefcases to school.  A briefcase - like a Wall Street broker or something.  The rest of us just giggled a bit and went back to band, swim team, staking out our favorite equipment on the playground (do the words 'witch's hat' spark a memory, anyone?) and yes - we all played massive kickball tournaments, even briefcase guys.  When the briefcases started their run, I was carrying a clarinet, some played sports, some loved makeup, clothes and shoes, others were under the hood of a car before they could drive.  It's as if, somewhere around ten or eleven years old, a great imaginary dividing ceremony takes place and sends us to our group.

If you're a reader, you are also recognizing this idea from some great fiction out there. "Divergent", the "Harry Potter" series, many others play on this theme, that you all of the sudden 'grow up' and 'find your group' at that age.  The thing is, it's an eternal theme because it rings true in real life.  I watch it happen with the darlings I teach, year after year.  In fourth grade, they start 'hanging around' the kids that are most like them, instead of just anyone.  Girls who take dance outside of school stick together, etc.  And if you think I'm giving an idyllic, fairy-tale view of this natural separation, I will throw this out there:  I referee more mean comments, hurt feelings and actual tears simply because very young friends are growing apart and they don't have the emotional maturity to realize it's okay, you can miss that friend, you can make an effort to still be friends, or you can remain acquaintances.  They don't know. It's their first bump in the road of all their friendships and relationships to come.  By fifth grade, the groups set themselves. I give them a talk each year about moving on to middle school and finding their 'group'.  I love when they come back to me and visit, and band (or choir, or orchestra, or theater...or even football or art) is their whole life, all their friends are from that group and their grades are fantastic and they are headed for college.

I've been living the very adult version of  'finding my group' for the past nine months. Before nine months ago today, I didn't belong to any group that had experienced tragic loss.  Loss of grandparents, older aunts and uncles, yes.  But I had lost no parents, siblings, or children.  I didn't have that frame of reference before May 8th.  I started thinking this way because I saw an image that made me reflect on the changes that take place long after you find your first 'group'.

Tiffany hearts?  Yes, they made me think.  I wore these earrings on Thursday and Friday.  Invariably, every time I looked in the mirror, one heart was upside down.  I fixed it, tightened the back, but to no avail.  Of course, the earrings being hearts, it made me think - my heart has felt upside-down lately. It just jumped out at me that we always need to find our group.  Life changes, and life changes us.  I'm still the person I was before, but with a new addition to my personality.  And it makes me gravitate toward certain people.  I have been able to have better heart-to-heart conversations with friends that have experienced loss than with others lately.  I'm not saying "I'm not your friend anymore" to anyone.  I'm simply feeling more of a kinship with those that always have their 'event' in the front of their minds, just as I do.

The upside-down heart brought that home to me.  A right-side-up heart looks settled, closed, happy, and states 'don't change me'!  An upside-down heart is one that has been turned over and is now looking to find its way back.  Nothing is settled anymore. That is how my earrings taught me a little something about myself this week. Most of me is settled.  But there's a part that's been moving toward a bit of a different group.  And that's okay.  I think every heart should have an upside-down section.  It keeps us from turning inward and never experiencing new things.

The briefcase guys didn't keep carrying briefcases into high school.  The band kids learned to make friends with the athletes.  Finding your group is an ongoing process, because life is an ongoing journey. When you look in the mirror and find out that part of your heart is upside-down at the moment, be happy that in spite of all, you're not too set in your ways to change just a bit.  Because the road twists and turns and you'll be left behind if you don't.

Five Things This Teacher Will Always Wonder 1/26/14

My own words this afternoon kind of surprised me.  "Several times a day, I wonder what it would be like to work among adults only.  But then I think if I didn't work with children, I would die a slow death."  Really?  Do I think that?  Definitely yes to the first half.  Wondering about those other jobs out there - you know, not teachers - I've been doing that since 1986. I even tried to look up how much a delivery truck driver makes one time, because they just get to drive, deliver, stop for lunch somewhere, then take the truck back to be loaded up and do it again the next day!

Is the grass greener outside the elementary playground?  I will probably never know.  I dream of moving into one of the those educational positions at a museum or something....but I don't actively pursue it.  I have to support myself and my girls, so taking a chance on finding a different-type job is too risky, in my mind.  So I am left to wonder about the outside world, like a confined princess in a tower. Well, maybe like a middle-aged woman that can't escape the workhouse...I prefer the princess, though. Here are five things I will always wonder:

1. What's it like to be able to get up and go to the restroom when you need to at work?  Elementary teachers can't just walk out of the room.  We have to get someone else to watch, oversee, protect, make sure hawks don't scoop up...the children.  Although I am having a laugh here, it's actually quite necessary.  We can have a fellow teacher spell us for a potty break - but our best bet is to learn the schedule and never over-Starbuck ourselves, even on tired mornings!

2.  Who are these people that are at restaurants for lunch every day?  Every great now and then, the schedule gives us a lucky break and we get to venture out - to Jason's Deli, Panera, the local Tex-Mex, a good Chinese buffet - about four times a school year, if you're counting.  When teachers walk in, usually group of women with school t-shirts or their badges flipping at their collar, we can hear the rest of the population think "Oh great, the teachers are out today..."  Who are those people?  I want to walk up to each and every one of them and ask "What is your job?  Do you get to eat out every day?  How much do you make?  How much vacation time do you get?"  But I don't.  Evidently those types of questions are frowned upon from strangers.

3. How does it feel to go through an entire work day with nobody hugging you? Or poking your stomach to tell you something?  Or petting your toes?  Unless you work in a very unusual place, I have got to assume that you "other job" people out there do not get treated as if you are some one's substitute mommy - or stuffed animal!  By the way, in the winter, the toe-petter will rub my suede boots.  This is my third year to teach her, and it has lessened - I feel it's my job to let her know that you can't just pet any one's feet!

4.  If you start to not feel well in the middle of a day, do you just go home?  I know that not everyone can....but can you turn off your phone?  Change a meeting?  Put the e-mail on out-of-office for thirty minutes?  Can you run to Walgreen's on the corner to buy some medicine, then try to make it through the day? Don't get me wrong, we can take measures if things are bad enough, but if it's just a headache, or the start of sniffles, something mild?  We just carry on.  Maybe have an extra bottle of water or cup of tea.  Then  we ask a colleague to watch our kids when we have to run to the restroom.

5.  What's it like to shop locally without children yelling your name?  It is evidently SO COOL to see the teacher outside of elementary school.  And the parents are there, witnessing how we greet their precious little ones, and sometimes wondering 'Who the heck is that?'  So no matter what a long day it's been, how tired we are, we put on a smile, say hi to the precious darling, introduce ourselves to the parents...and then we have to remember why we came to the store in the first place!  If we are lucky, they are leaving, and we don't encounter them on every aisle we walk, to get an update on what groceries their mom just chose.

Actually, number 5 is the reason I went back to teaching happily after my five years off.  My five years off happened to take place in England (I know, cool, right?) from when my girls were two and three, until they were seven and eight.  It was a complete blessing to be home with them during that time.  About six months in, though, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table just sobbing my eyes out.  I analyzed it carefully.  Of course I missed my family.  Of course I missed my friends. Of course I missed the familiar area, stores, etc.  But what I really missed was people knowing me.  Nobody stopped me to talk in the drugstore.  Nobody kept me standing in the driveway chatting for an hour, so dinner was late.  I like to be known!  Granted, we were very new in England, and at the end of my five years I had all that and more.  But learning that about myself has kept me teaching.  Oh there are nine hundred kids in the school?  Bring 'em on! I only get to see them every other week?  That's okay, I'll make sure they know me and that they learn music. Because I am their teacher, for those five days a week, nine months a year, I belong to them and they belong to me.

Me, with some of the earliest huggy darlings - around 1988, when the wondering began!

The Hardest Questions of All. Thanks, Santa. 12/12/13

Little ones ask so many questions.  Personal questions - "How old are you?"  Silly questions - "Can I have that bracelet?"  Blunt questions - "Are those real diamonds?"  But the two hardest questions of all occur this time of year:  "Mrs. Rush, is Santa real?"  followed by "Mrs. Rush, do you believe in Santa?"  Elementary teachers have to face the fact the there are as many levels of belief in their classroom as there are students.  We also have to face the fact that those students believe whatever we say.  We are the teachers.  We speak wisdom and truth!  I bill myself as a teacher that only tells the truth.  So, when I was asked these difficult questions today, as I have been so many years in a row, I gave an answer that has been many years in the making:

"Is Santa real?  Jailynn says he's not."  Oh boy, here we go.  Carefully worded truth. These were second graders.  I personally found out the truth from a kid in my class in third grade.  I was angry and disappointed.  Considering this little questioner was about the same age, I spoke very cautiously:

"Now, my little friends, you might be hearing all sorts of things about Santa from your friends here in your class at school. I think that Santa is very much alive in the spirit of giving.  Different families have different ways that they share that with their kids, so please believe whatever your parents tell you.  This season is about love and giving.  Sometimes we give gifts, sometimes we give a song, sometimes we give our time to help someone.  Santa is one of the leaders behind all that giving, but we are all involved in it.  I hope that you have the chance to give a little bit this season and see how it makes you happy.  Even if what you give is your best smile." (The room erupts into smiley faces.)

"But what about what Jailynn said?"  "Well, her family still believes in giving and being sweet.  Her parents just explain it in a different way from your parents.  But that's ok if the real purpose is being nice."

"Why doesn't Santa bring presents to grown-ups?"  "Well, it's not because all grown-ups are bad.  I'm certainly not bad!" (giggle eruption).  "I think it's because when you are very little you only know how to get stuff.  When you get older, you learn how to give yourself, so Santa doesn't have to give you things to teach you that anymore." (Can we please sing now?)

Then, the granddaddy of them all:  "Mrs. Rush, do you believe in Santa?"  Dead silence.  They think they've got me.  "I have to say yes, my friends.  I believe in Santa as he represents the spirit of giving.  I believe in Santa in the idea that if you are good, good things come to you.  I try to practice that all year long on you boys and girls by giving treasure box goodies to the well-behaved children.  I believe that once you really know Santa as a grown-up, you understand that giving is so much more than a present.  Giving can be a smile, saying someone looks nice, visiting someone, calling them, writing them a note, or singing them a song. This is the truth that Santa represents and in my heart I know it's true.  Believe what your mom and dad tell you. That will be different for everyone in here, but don't we celebrate differences at our school?" (Nodding heads) "Santa wants you to grow up to have a giving heart, so he sets the example."  (Quiet.....)  "Now let's sing - please give me some beautiful songs with beautiful voices today!"  Smiles - music - action.  Thanks, Santa.

Have-tos and Shoulds 11/2/13

What a week!  I knew I was a little behind on sleep/chores/TV due to my manic birthday weekend.  I didn't expect the compilation of all the tiredness/busy-ness/catching up to kick my butt all the way to Friday. But so it did. There is so much that I should be doing!  I sit now, typing, waiting for cold medicine to unclog at least one nostril so I can try to take a little nap.  How did I get to this point?  I don't really want to ever be dependent on anything - especially to unclog any part of me!! Let's see if I can re-trace my steps and find what little misstep led me here.

Last Friday, 10/25:  Got the flu shot.  Generally a good idea.  A little sore arm later in the day, but mentally anticipating wonderful health all winter while everyone else shivers, coughs, and sneezes.  Perhaps it is to blame for this malady I am suffering a week later?  It wouldn't be the first time that my superior attitude has made me pay a hefty price. Who knows?

Last weekend:  Can't be to blame, tiring but wonderful.  I did spend each weekend day in very public places, perhaps being exposed to new germs, even though I am an extremely careful hand-washer.  For the most part, though, a wonderful weekend.

Monday:  Ah, school.  Nothing like a day at school to turn on the auto-pilot.  Get up, get dressed, put on makeup, drink coffee.....I've taught meter a thousand times, and beat vs. rhythm even more.  I was so determined to not let the busy weekend affect me (like an old person...) that I went straight for my walk after work, then went to the grocery store.  I came home, had dinner and caught up on two sitcoms before watching 'Dancing With the Stars'.  Ok, kind of an old person anyway, but a decent day.  I always play Candy Crush while watching 'Dancing'.  Near the end of the show, my phone just turned off.  Never to come back on.  Instead of heading to bed to beat the 11:00 hour, I was on the phone with Verizon, who had me try some phone gymnastics, none of which did anything.  At that point, they said they would send another phone overnight, but it wouldn't ship until Tuesday, so I wouldn't get it until Wednesday.  I convinced myself I could survive and went to sleep.

Tuesday:  It feels weird to spend a day without a cell phone.  I notified those closest, and survived it, but it feels weird.  I felt a little sad all day, not being able to peek at social media and see what all my friends were up to!  I also found out that I had done something in the wrong order at work, which would reflect on someone else.  Of all the "things" that happen in adult life, I get most depressed if something I do gets someone else in trouble.  Evidently, in the district, before you order t-shirts for a group, you are supposed to request a purchase order and guess how many will be ordered.  If you wait until the actual number of orders, money and invoice have come in, you've done it wrong.  Go figure.  (It did make me feel a little better that an administrator had made the same mistake..) I felt down, sad, tired, and went home with every intention of taking poor Cuddles (also known as thyroid-cat) to the new vet.  I sat down.  I got sadder and more tired.  I called my mom and cried.  I felt the weight of all the 'shoulds' in my life, and the fact that only I'm left to do them.  I didn't take Cuddles on Tuesday.  I put in for a half-day sick day on Wednesday to take care of that and get some rest, or do some "shoulds". 

Wednesday:  Early morning choir!  Yes, an extra rehearsal for my babies, to help memory for Saturday's performance. I just torture myself, don't I?  Gladly taught the morning through, knowing I could leave at noon.  Nobody had picked up the substitute job, though.  That is not my fault or my responsibility.  I followed the correct procedure for entering an absence.  Somehow, though, we are made to feel guilty that somebody will have to cover if we're out.  Guess what?   I stopped feeling guilty about that last May.  I am allotted a certain number of sick  and personal days, and it's no body's business when I take them and what I do with them.  The district (or better yet, the bosses) can get over it.  One friend this week told me that one of the bosses actually asked her if she really needed to go to the doctor, and asked what she was going for!  Pretty sure that's illegal......I actually hope they ask me that sometime!  That friend has accumulated over fifty days, by the way.  Anyway, as I taught through the morning, I felt sniffles, a sore throat and a headache.  Whatever sickness karma there is was telling me if I was going home at noon, by golly, I was going to be sick!  I managed to take Cuddles to the vet, first of many visits to solve many problems, then went home and rested. Got the new phone.  It didn't work.  Called Verizon, they sent another.  Holy cow!  Felt worse.  Couldn't breathe, didn't walk, tried to go to bed early, another choir rehearsal awaited in the morning!

Thursday:  Halloween!!  Super Duper Rain!!  Sure enough, very rainy, flooded streets, the 25 minute drive took 45 minutes, sniffy nose, worried about choir, t-shirts, many other things.  But children?  They don't care about any of that if it's Halloween!  They only know that candy is in their future!  I have this to say to all of those who nay-say Halloween based on any origin involving evil........for the past fifty years, it has been about nothing but merchandising.  Costume and candy sales with the easiest target consumer in the world - the kid.  Kids don't care who you worship as long as they get some Skittles.  Just have fun!  (In saying that, attending some of the church -sponsored 'trunk or treats' have been our most fun years!)  So school was busy, because the kids have to be distracted from the fact that it's Halloween!!  The t-shirts arrived, all work was completed, move on to the evening.  I was a zombie.  No, I didn't dress up.  I just couldn't breathe or taste, so I sat back and let everybody else celebrate, eat, trick-or-treat. I set up the second new phone.  I answered the door.  I hope I didn't pass out too many germs with the candy!

Friday was an exhaustion day.  In preparation for Saturday's concert, t-shirts were passed out, music and sound equipment packed up, last minute e-mails answered and sent, and all by sore, tired, can't-breathe me.  I went home, and prepared for a nap.  Unfortunately, I have to be able to breathe through my nose a bit in order to sleep.  I will let you know what worked and how this ends.  I got so tired typing all of this that I thought "No wonder I got sick - just think how tiring it is actually doing all that!"  And that, my friends, is dedicated to every teacher everywhere.  Just do the "have-tos" and maybe you'll have a little left for the "shoulds".  If you don't, there's always the weekend.

From MTAI to PDAS: M&Ms, Zombies and Mice

The year, I believe, was 1987.  All teachers in Mississippi now had to be evaluated according to state standards.  "MTAI" was the acronym of the year, Mississippi Teacher Appraisal Instrument.  All teachers now had to be officially assessed, according to guidelines set out by the state. These guidelines included several different areas, or "domains" in which a score was given.  We were carefully trained (made to sit through hours of meetings....), so there would be no way we could score badly.  We chose a class period, turned in a lesson plan - in the hand-written lesson plan book with the carbon copy pages - had a meeting to discuss the plan, and then the day came.  The principal had to stay thirty minutes.  They watched and checked everything. I remember leaving the lesson plan on my desk with a pack of M&Ms, as if chocolate could make anything I did wrong disappear!  I was, and still am, quite good at putting on a show, so it went very well, high scores all around.  But in between the observation and the actual knowledge of the scores, my brain told me everything I did was wrong.  "Uh-oh, you accidentally started the wrong song on the record the first time."  "You shouldn't have given that Mean Look, maybe that brought the score down."  "WHY OH WHY did that kid have to do a total snot-sneeze in the middle of the lesson?"  I am my own worst critic, and almost every teacher I know is the same way. 

Evaluations have evolved, and still exist in every state. They are a federal requirement. Remember "No Child Left Behind"?  It required every state to evaluate their teachers yearly.  Everybody likes to think that a "bad" teacher would get a poor evaluation, and poof! - disappear.  It doesn't happen that way, though. The evaluations sound harsh, but if you don' score well, you're given many opportunities to fix it. 

Flash forward 26 years to this past Friday.  I was not 'officially' evaluated.  First of all, after so many years in Texas, you move to an advanced level that just requires three "drop-ins" a year.  Each drop-in is about ten minutes.  Secondly, drop-ins haven't started yet this year.  However, the district has added something called "mega-monitoring".  We've been told what they look for when they mega us, but we've not seen any feedback, or been told how the statistics will be used.  All I know is that they enter the classroom when a lesson is in full bloom, stand there and look around while playing on their phones.  Ok, that's exaggeration - because we are aware that they are checking a checklist of the required items on their phones.  (I wonder if the district pays for the administration's Iphones???)  About three to five minutes, and whoever mega'd you is gone. This past Friday, I had the illustrious experience of being mega-monitored twice in thirty minutes.  The first time, it was the main boss.  In she comes, while we're singing "Zombie Style" (a lovely parody of "Gangnam Style).  I was scared to death.  Schools are not very open about celebrating Halloween these days.  I personally choose the attitude that I don't do anything scary, only fun.  "Zombie Style" is fun!  Quickly, when the song ended, I called the class' attention to the vocabulary word 'parody', already written on the board.  Quick thinking.  In a flash, she was gone.  The class sang a few more songs that they got to choose.  I call it "Fun Song Friday", and it's one of my ways to foster a singing student body.  They can choose ANY song!  So when the assistant main boss walked in, the kids were singing "Mousie In the Snow".  It's definitely a Christmas song.  And it's early October.  Every child singing, smiling, doing motions.....did that count?  I went with my mental defenses and told myself not to worry. 

I didn't worry - until the students were gone and it was my lunch.  Then I started thinking.  (Oh no, not again.....) Why did I tell that child that I didn't have to give him a reason for changing some one's seat?  Why were we singing a Christmas song?   Why did I have magazines in a Guinness Stout box sitting on the table?  Why do I teach?  Why don't I answer phones and create spreadsheets somewhere? 

After lunch, there was a nice note in my teacher mailbox from the assistant main boss, telling me how much she had enjoyed her visit and seeing all the smiles on the students' faces.  If she had told me in person, I probably would have said "That's because I gave them the Guinness, haha" very nervously.
It's a good thing that the feedback from the official evaluations is on paper.  I should have three drop-ins this year.  For the past two years, my evaluator(s) did not finish my three by the deadline.  Once again, I took it personally.  I felt that nobody wanted to come see me teach, because they would have to be writing down so many things that go wrong!  Once again, I did well.  I don't know what I worry about, except that I truly care about being a good music teacher.  I made my peace about eight years ago with the fact that I am "just a music teacher".  I decided to be the best one I could be.    I certainly hope, though, that this year's person is able evaluate in a timely manner. Evidently I'm quite awesome, zombies, mice and all.


"Zombie Style" and "Mousie In the Snow" published by Music K-8 Magazine
Plank Road Publishing, Inc.

*I learned that the district does not supply the Iphones for the mega's.  They use their own phones, but the app is free.  Cheapskates.

Questions abound 9/27/13

I have a lot of questions.  Some of them deal with life and death.  Some of them deal with family and friends.  Some of them deal with work.  None of them are truly answer-able.  They are mostly just ponder-able.  Is it worth the time to ponder them?  I don't know.  That's one of the questions.

1. Why us?
 Why my precious girls?  Not so much me, but us.  All four of us were awesome. The three of us are still awesome, but way too aware that one-fourth of us is missing.  That flavors and colors everything we think and do, forever. And then I must ask:  Why my friend Maria and her two precious girls?  Is this a new sociological trend?  If so, may I be allowed to say: it sucks.  (Sorry, Mom.)  So, if there ever could be a reason (remember, simply a ponder question...), what would it be?

2. Why can't I get credit for all the years I've taught, even though they were elsewhere?
Don't laugh, this bothers me just about every day. The school district I work for honors everybody for the number of years they're taught in the district. So this year, when everybody is getting their award pins, I'll be sitting there, in my twenty-fifth year of teaching, watching everyone else get awards because they never moved around.  I've only taught in the district  for seven years now.  When I do get my "ten-year" award, it will actually be my twenty-eighth year teaching.  Thank goodness all those years in all those other places count on my pay scale.  I think I'll miss that day this year.

3. Why do some people get all the bad luck? or "Whydobadthingshappentogoodpeople?"
I'm really not referring to myself here, although I feel as if I have joined that crowd lately.  Why do some people not only end up with a bad situation, but no support?  Why do cars break down on top of an air-conditioning repair?  Why can lies be believed?  Why does sadness exist? 

4. Why do those inner bags of cereal sometimes rip instead of opening neatly?
I have a LOT of experience opening those bags.  I know that I do not like them to rip. I am not a fan of wasting single grain (or krispie!) of cereal.  A rip in the bag means that some of the cereal will pour down into the box.  Just this week, I was very carefully opening the new box of Grape-Nuts (another question altogether....) when RIP!!!  It just makes me angry.  I will say that I have better luck with Kellogg's bags than Post's.  I will also ask:  why, oh why, aren't those inner bags re-sealable? You know, a zip-lock top or something?  Too much to ask?

5.  Why am I plagued with the idea that anything I do is not good enough?
We've all been there, right? I just have to look around to know that I did some things great.  But just knowing that my husband is gone makes me feel like I goofed up big time, somewhere, somehow.  I now have to make all the big decisions myself, and instead of being confident because of past experience, I feel as if I will make a really big mistake.  Nobody questions my decisions, everyone tells me I'm smart, I'm strong....and that only gives me more doubt. I'm kind of afraid I'll get "too big for my britches" and do something that's waaay weird and uncalled for.  Ok, maybe not, because when you describe me in one word (you know that game?) the one word is CAUTIOUS.  And the worst insult I could give would be to say that a decision or action was FOOLISH.  Heaven forbid. 

6. Why is nothing ever good enough at work anymore?
This is an offshoot of #5, except that I am kind of making a statement that the district seems to be trying to prove itself by saying that they are constantly changing and upgrading all teaching methods.  In the process of doing so, a lot of teachers are being told that what they are doing isn't good enough, doesn't follow this list or that guideline or new specification #5,038.  Yes, I personally have experienced a bit of this.....and when I am told that something isn't good enough, I am not happy.  However, it's been only a couple of actual times for me.  I'm pretty sure that's very lucky, actually.  It's tricky ground, being in my emotional state, and coming up against the grips of the district.

7. Why does some music give me mixed messages? 
"Carry on, my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done." Oh good, I need to hop out of bed and get this day started!!  "Lay your weary head to rest, don'tcha cry no more..."  Nevermind.  "Don't worry, be happy."  My friend wants to punch Mr. McFerrin in the face for ever recording such nonsense.  I agree.  Mr. McFerrin is immensely talented (check out his version of The Beatles' "Blackbird") but that song has probably done more psychological damage than the movie "Psycho".  And Peter Frampton has been asking me to show him the way for thirty years now, but he won't show up. I know the way, Peter!!!  It's not good enough, but it'll get you there!

To sum up my ponderings:

1. Why us (and them)?
2. Why is the district unfair and nothing can be done about it?
3.  Why is life life?
4.  Why don't cereal companies care to improve?  Have we been married too long?
5.  If I am so confident (I am...) then why am I not confident? 
6.  Why do certain entities try to fix what's not broken?
7.  Why do I still feel emotionally attached to song lyrics even though I'm not a teenager?
8.  Why are my dogs and cats so cute?  ( I know, I didn't write about that, but they are napping beside me right now....)

Ponder away, friends, ponder away. 

Oh My, The Things They Say! 9/12/13

What fun I have teaching ages 5-11, every year along the way of their elementary school journey.  A music teacher is a constant in their life, year after year.  It's so fun to look at the big, trying-to-be-cool fifth graders and say "Remember when you danced the tango with me?"  "Remember when you said you had a broken head?".  Little ones are always cute. "Mrs. McCarty, do you have some more musics today?"  But big ones are cute, too.  I stated we were going to learn a song from a war - would they like to guess which one?  5th grade boy - "Does it have the word silver in it?" Me - "Yes, if by 'silver' you mean 'civil', in which case, you got it!"  He laughs, we all laugh, and we discuss the word 'civil' then move on to "When Johnny Comes Marching Home".  Innocent mispronunciations to glaringly obvious, but hilarious questions are a part of the teacher's life.  I wish I could remember all of them - but quite a few have stuck in my memory through the years.

"Mrs. McCarty, she's breathing my air!"   Oh my, kindergartners have never had to share anything!

"I have to take a test, then if I pass the test, I go for an auction to see if I can be on television."
(Telling me about trying out for Jeopardy, Jr.)  My gentle correction:  "Pretty sure, since it's a TV show, that it's an audition, not an auction." 

One of my favorites:  I was showing a third grade class my class pictures from first, second, and third grade.  That's one of my lessons on the civil rights movement - all white children for two years, then magically in third grade, a great mix of skin colors.  Third grade for me was also when the school switched from black and white to color photos. (Perhaps to accommodate the new forced melting pot? Or just because photography advanced and it became affordable?)  One of my sweet, but oh-so-innocent third graders raised his hand and asked "Mrs. McCarty, when did the world change from black and white to color?"  Awesome question! 

"What's that big CD thing?"  Yes, it's a record.  I have an entire lesson built around the old classroom record player.  There are always one or two students of course, that say "My Grandpa has one of those!"  yeah, yeah, kids.

Here's a story from a friend that teaches in Florida - an overheard conversation:

Karington (darling student): Leo, can you look that way for my mom?
Leo (another darling): But I don't know what she looks like.
Karington: Yes, you do! She has long blond hair and she smiles like this (demonstrates a smile) and it is the prettiest smile in the whole world. And she is wearing a beautiful pink dress. And she is friends with Mrs. Petty.

Such love for her Mommy, and the fact that Mommy is friends with Mrs. Petty (my sister, smile, smile) just explains everything.

 Here's a favorite:  I have a small Chinese gong on my shelf.  Jacob, a really "cool" fourth grader, a few years ago, very loudly:  "Mrs. McCarty, is that your bong?"  Me - "No, that is the school's, and it's a GONG!!  G-O-N-G, GONG!"  Just saying, dear parents, we teach your children many things, but they teach us things about you, too!


Sometimes, though, funny - but not so cute.  For example, the time two little third grade girls were sitting so close to my feet that one suddenly (and loudly, of course) exclaimed "You've got hair on your toe!!"  Ouch.  I kindly explained (quietly, of course) that  I must have forgotten to take care of that when I shaved my legs, but would definitely remember next time.  I ALSO explained that she was lucky I was happy that day, because that would have made a lot of ladies cry and she needs to be careful when saying that sort of thing out loud.  Now, who wants to say that I just teach music????

Being small is important, too! 8/25/13

A kindergartner once gave me a picture he had drawn.  (Once?  A million times, probably, but I'm thinking of one in particular.) In this picture, I am very, very tall and the child is very small.  It surprised me a little, because I forget just how tall I must seem to those little darlings. Honestly, they might even think I'm a giant!  I try to be very nice to them, so at least they think I'm a nice giant!  As the new year begins tomorrow morning, I will be making sure that I kneel to their level so they aren't scared of me, and see me as kind, caring and someone they can trust.  I will have a "BIG" day tomorrow.  I've found, though, that it is important to have "SMALL" days, also. 

In the classroom, I am a force.  I am in charge.  I am the one that answers the questions.  Right teachers?  Teachers are the ones that establish the procedures and make sure that they occur each day.  Teachers are the voice of authority.  Teachers loom in stature over students - figuratively and sometimes (as in my case) literally.  We are in charge.  Sometimes I'm in charge of so many things that my favorite moment of the day happens when I can say "I don't know, I'm not in charge of that!"

Within a family setting, the adults are BIG, too.  Whether you are a parent or not, you run a household of some sort; making financial decisions, taking care of day-to-day chores, planning vacations, deciding which social events to attend.  We are all BIG within our own house.  It should be that way - our house is where we are loved and valued. When conflict happens within a household, it hurts more, because everybody is BIG, so hurts are big, too.  If you look at the other side of the coin, though, happiness is magnified many times over in a loving house where everyone is BIG.

But what happens when we need to feel SMALL?  When I taught high school, I was BIG within the classroom.  Sometimes, during my planning, I walked one block east, then one block south so I could stand there and look out at the Gulf.  It's vast, and the waves never stop.  Just doing that for a few minutes gave me a peace that I could carry back into the classroom, where I was BIG again.

  I went for a hike in the woods today, with some friends.  As we walked, we talked about problems, victories, plans, hopes, dreams - all those things that you decide at home, where you are BIG.  But every now and then, I looked up from the path.  Enormous mature trees surrounded us.  The path under our feet was uneven, with huge roots crisscrossing under our feet.  Insects whizzed by us - it's their world, and we were interrupting!  I felt small. Really small.  It's a relief to be small for a while.  Our hike stopped for a while at an old cemetery.  We've visited before, it's small, well-kept, peaceful and beautiful in its own way.  I started looking at headstones that were shared by husbands and wives.  In that tiny cemetery, I saw so many wives that outlived their husbands by ten, twenty, even forty years.  Some of the births date back to the 1860s, while the deaths begin around 1880.  The thought occurred to me, while standing in that cemetery, that I am not the first widow in the history of the world, nor will I be the last.  The thing that has become my main identifying factor right now is actually smaller than I thought it was.  That doesn't make it any less sad, or difficult.  Me saying that it is small is not saying that it doesn't devastate me  I never know when it is going to strike me like a lightening bolt.  No, what I discovered in the cemetery today is that I will go on living.  That discovery lets me know that I will face BIG type choices about my own self, and will have be able to decide things and keep on living.

Tomorrow is the first day of school for students.  As teachers, we actually have to be enormous tomorrow.  We have to establish procedure, start building relationships, be kind, caring and loving at the same time we are laying behavioral groundwork, going over the rules and nipping potential foolish students in the bud.  It's huge.

 I hope that all my teacher friends have found some time to be SMALL this weekend. It can be nature that gives you that feeling.  It can be a crowd - I'll bet my friends that were at the Texans game today felt SMALL.  Sunday worship reminds us how SMALL, yet valuable we are. There are plenty of ways to feel SMALL, so that you can go back to being BIG - successfully.  Nothing is worse than a mean giant.  I wish all of you equal amounts of BIG and SMALL

The T-shirt Rebellion 8/22/13

I wore a uniform to school from fourth grade until I graduated. We hated them.  Doesn't everybody that has to wear a school uniform hate them?  Blue plaid and white blouses.  Dress-style jumpers over the blouses through sixth grade, and skirts with the blouses starting in seventh.  Solid color blue, green or white socks.  Solid color blue, green or white sweaters.  No dangling earrings.  Closed-toed shoes.  Skirts had to touch the floor when kneeling.  The rules seemed never-ending.  The dream of being able to choose what I got to wear each day was a part of the enticement of college.

At college, I was sometimes overwhelmed by the question of  "What am I going to wear today?"  There was no real group to follow - different people dressed casual, sporty, dressy, stylish - I had to start making up my mind who I was, as far as fashion was concerned.  It was work.  I remember thinking that it would be so nice just to put on my white blouse and plaid skirt and go.  But instead, I set out to carve my individuality in the world using my clothes.  I wasn't Lady Gaga of that little Baptist college, but I did set my own style and let my personality show. 

Now, I'm an elementary teacher.  Let me explain why that matters.  There is a shelf or drawer in every elementary school teacher's house that is full of school t-shirts.  After a few years, if you don't weed them out, they will run over!  Just this week alone, I was given two t-shirts and told when to wear them (and sometimes, what to wear them with!)  It was also announced that we will be able to order another t-shirt to wear on Mondays to advertise our behavioral program!  So if I wear that one on Mondays, the committee shirt on the Wednesdays of meetings, and the spirit shirt every Friday, that leaves Tuesday and Thursday to wear my own clothes!  Wow!

I am not anti-t-shirt.  I think they have a place.  One school shirt is cute, especially when you have special days or competitions, and especially when you can wear the same design the little ones wear.  They think that's cool.  And t-shirts are great for exercising.  My prejudice actually stems from vanity. I do not look good in t-shirts.  I am no longer as thin as I was in college, and my bust (not thin, either) is accentuated by the high neck on a t-shirt.  I spend the whole day making sure the t-shirt is pulled down far enough in the front and back, and not pulling too tight in certain spots.  I am not as comfortable in a t-shirt as I am in my professional clothes.  And, believe it or not, in spite of my age, I still want to be an individual!

So, whether the blame lies with the seven years of plaid uniforms, or with my vanity about wanting to choose more flattering outfits, I would like to publicly state my aversion to the number of t-shirts and days that we are required to wear them.  I know the publicly stating anything won't change the t-shirt trend, but I just had to get it off my chest.  I wish I could do that with the t-shirts.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go choose a design for the t-shirts my children in choir will be required (by me) to wear.

Just Ok 8/14/13

*The opinions and scenarios below are not intended to cause guilt, blame or any such feeling from anyone.  If anything, I feel guilty for being the one with baggage, the one you must be "careful" around. 

"How was your summer?"  The opening line of anyone going back to school - students and teachers.  Contrary to what you may think, not all teachers hang out together all summer long.  We intend to "get together", and then the next thing you know, it's time to go back to those glorious meetings. 

My school family knows me, they know my situation, and they know that my answer - "just ok" - is justified.  It's not a bad attitude, it's not a diagnosed condition, it's just that truthfully - trying to make it through the last three months since my husband has been gone has only been "just ok".  Matter of fact, sometimes, it's been horrible.  Sometimes it's been numbing.  Sometimes it's been manic - when I feel a little happiness, I go a little nuts because I'm not sure I'll feel happy again for a while.

I am blessed to have a work family that knows and understands.  I want them to know - I don't care what you say to me. "How was your summer?" is normal.  "How've you been?" is normal.  I want to be normal.  But I also have been changed in such a way that my answer to you might be "Just ok." or "Not so good.".  Please don't let my honesty make you uncomfortable, just go with the flow. Tell me "I guess not." or "I understand." or "You're allowed.".  Then we'll keep talking.  If I turn insular for a moment, talking on and on about myself,  wait until I take a breath and tell me where you went on your vacation.  Every time I talk with someone or some group in a regular way, I am walking that path back to being normal.

I am just ok, by the way.  I am a bundle of fears, plans, wishes, pain, hopes, loneliness, perseverance, wanting to give up, positive one day/negative the next....and did I say fears?  I might talk your ear off about having to sell my house because it's too ridiculously big for us, or I might keep it from you that I have to go to court for probate one day. In trying to be normal, I hope you, all my friends, will let me choose what to share and what to keep.  You are all so kind and understanding, I know you will.

"How was your summer?"  "It was just ok, how about you?"  The ball's in your court. Help me back to normal. I love you, my friends.

Getting The Back To School Letter (Wrong Papers, Wrong Walls, Wrong Stuff) 8/5/13

It happened today.  That letter, or e-mail, in this day and time, that says "HEADS UP!  OUT OF THE POOL!!  YOU GO BACK TO SCHOOL IN A COUPLE OF WEEKS!!"  Well, it says that in so many words.  A welcome back letter, with staff changes included.  Information on when we can move in to our classrooms.  Rules upon rules.  No paper here, don't plug anything there, less is more, keep it tidy.....I feel the stress in my stomach already.

We always go back at the end of the summer.  And in a way, I'm ready.  It's just that I can't stand repetitiveness.  Every year the same speeches, meetings, discussions dragged on by people who just have to find the holes and complain, or question ridiculous details.  Repeat, repeat.  Yes, I remember a year later.  I went to new student orientation at Texas Tech last week, for the second time.  Chancellor Nance gave the same speech to the parents as he did a year ago - word for word.  Don't get me wrong, it was an awesome speech, and Tech is an awesome school.  But I felt, as I always do when made to 'sit through it again', that my time was devalued by the presentation.  It's as if someone says to you:  "I don't care that you've heard this before, your time doesn't matter, you are of no consequence, because it has to be said and your ears have to hear it again."  It feels personal.

There are some items of value in the back-to-school meetings.  Meeting new staff.  Catching up with everyone.  Any big changes.  In other words, anything we haven't already been over a million times before.  Is my time better served figuring out the first couple of week's lessons, or running through the building for some sort of team-building race?  If I teach your child, which would you prefer?

Our letter also had staff changes.  I knew that a team member of ours was leaving, and I look forward to meeting the new person. That's right, none of us have met them yet, so don't ask us about them!  We weren't involved.  Nobody asked us.

I want what I always want - to be a good teacher and have a good year.  To inspire children.  To get off the subject every now and then just to talk about history, or current events, or that popular Youtube video. I want to encourage, problem-solve, cheer, smile, demand, praise, connect: TEACH!!!  If you let me do that, I promise not to stick the wrong papers on the wrong walls with the wrong stuff.  Thank you.

Why Do I Teach Music? 8/3/13

I started out as a music teacher because I could explain those musical ideas clearly.  Helping other people understand notes and what they say - I was good at that! More than that, the result was fun!  I could watch young people learn how to create music.  I was disappointed to discover, soon into my career, that music teachers were looked upon as break time for the "real " teachers.  One "real" teacher used to stand at my door with her class and tap her watch if we weren't exactly on time.  I've heard an administrator describe my subject as "fluff".  I've had countless parents say, "Oh, my child just loves your class, the say it's so much fun!"  I have come to the conclusion that the rest of the world may indeed see my subject as fun. In many districts, the classes that teach the arts are the first on the chopping block when budget issues arise.  I've been fearful several times over my twenty-four years that my position would be cut. I have mulled over my personal defense for teaching music for most of those years.  As I enter my twenty-fifth year, I'd like to explain why I chose and keep this career.  Only a few experienced individuals and I know that I'm truly working hard at opening a new world for children each time they enter my door.

I teach music for the wide-eyed wonder of the Thors.  Thor entered kindergarten the same year that Mississippi had one pilot kindergarten homeroom at each elementary school.  He and his twenty classmates looked like younger siblings that had gotten lost on a school visit.  The first time this class came to my room, I sat them on the floor in a circle, sang a song called "Happy Train", and accompanied myself on the autoharp.  Little hands reached toward the instrument.  Only the most mature few could manage to listen to the words of the song, as they had been instructed.  Thor was in awe.  It wasn't quiet awe, it was bubbly, noisy, questioning awe.  I gave everyone a turn to touch, feel, and try to make a sound on the instrument.  Eventually, we sang one verse of the song with each child's name included - "I see Thor on the happy train....."  They all tried to sing along, turned red, clapped - Thor beamed.  Every new song we learned, through the weeks - "I've Been Working On The Railroad", "Chicken Soup" and "Skinnamarink-a-dink-a-dink" - Thor sang out, mistakes or no, with a five-year-old voice that bounced off the walls with exuberance.  I taught Thor every year through fourth grade.  He matured, learned to smirk, learned to talk in class and giggle with friends when he shouldn't.  But one thing didn't change, at least through fourth grade.  When I began the piano introduction to one of out 'fun songs', Thor sat up, knew when to come in, and, like very few fourth grade boys tend to do, he sang with all his heart.

I teach music for the seriously talented.  There are too many to name, and I would surely accidentally omit one, so no names here.  I have run across serious talent at every age level I have taught.  I had the joy of taking a high school choir to state-level competition.  They listened to every concrete and abstract idea I wanted them to express in Cherubini's "Sanctus in C minor".  I watched a high school group take the wide range of choral literature that we had learned during the school year, and come up with a final concert that took on the guise of a radio show.  They wrote a script so all the songs fit in as poetry, gospel hour, even commercials!  I was able to share how to hit those high notes a little better, how to pace yourself when dancing and singing the same show eight times in one day, how to pronounce words to blend with other singers.  I saw them get in trouble at home, at school, fail classes, ace classes, get scholarships, get accepted at prestigious universities (with the help of choir as an activity), try out for parts, get them, not get them, finish college, get married, not get married, have families, experience loss - but most of all, I've seen them live their dreams.  Some of them are still performing, even teaching themselves!  I am so proud.  It doesn't matter to me if they went on to study music.  I feel I have shown them a hobby that can last a lifetime.  If you love music, you can find a place where people are sharing it.

I teach music for everyone.  Some students walk into the room and are enthusiastic from day one.  Later, it turns out they can't even sing on pitch.  By the time that discovery is made, it doesn't matter.  Anyone can sing in the place I call my music room.  Just sing your own way.  Some students excel in the paperwork on notes, rests, and meter.  They discover that the great puzzle that is music makes perfect sense to them.  I can actually see them glowing from the brain light bulb while the rest of the class struggles along and asks question after question.  At that point, I allow the one that excels to take over answering questions and helping.  I also get to instruct them to help humbly, slowly, make sure that understanding happens, and never condescend.  What am I teaching at that point?  I call it music, but there is so much more. 

I teach music to recruit new members for the families known as band, choir and orchestra. I love to encourage students to join one of the groups in middle school, for musical and behavioral/social reasons.  In today's climate, students that feel they belong to a group tend to be more successful at all of their activities.  Recently I saw a family in a restaurant.  I had taught both children, and both are now in middle school band.  I smiled and spoke, they filled me in on their activities, and I told them I was proud, and encouraged them a little more. They assured me it would continue through high school.  The father looked at me and said "This is really great, because we were never in band!"  I smiled even bigger.  Mission accomplished.

Teaching music is a power tool that should be used with care. Music is a personal thing. I try to open windows and doors that expose children to all the many, many, types of music that can enrich their life.  I also still explain those notes and rests.  By teaching music, I am more than break time for the teacher.  I am handing out tools with which our children will carve their own personal happiness.

The Turning Point, or Rebounding from "Burnout" 7/21/13

When the last day of the school year arrives, I do not cry.  Yes, I'll miss the ones that are moving on.  No doubt.  One in particular this past year - more than any one in a LOT of years.  (Godspeed, Chelsea!) But by the time the beginning of June rolls around, there are no tears left.  There is just tiredness, backed up by being fed up with excuses, whining, arguing, meanness crying, roughhousing gone too far....in other words, burned out.

"Burned out" is one of the awful insider insults in the teaching field. We see another teacher lose their patience, not turn things in, arrive late, depart early......and we whisper "burned out" among ourselves. I personally am always showing signs of "burnout" by the time summer is here. When I am finally home day after day, it takes a while to re-charge.  For the remainder of June, I don't want to be around children, hear  child's voice, talk cute to a child.....thank goodness, mine are grown and there are only college-age semi-adults around.  But sometime in July, it always happens;  I miss the kids.

I start looking at kids again.  I start smiling at the things I hear them say.  (Let's face it, children are, quite often, hilarious!)  I watch them goof off in the grocery store, or at a restaurant.  I'm ready to interact with small humans again.  It takes about six weeks, but the turning point always arrives.  After that, I'm anxious to prepare the classroom and get ready for that first day of school.  Welcoming my little darlings is so much fun. I know that if they are greeting me with a smile, a big hug, and "I missed you so much!" that I'm doing something right in their little lives. I must not be completely "burned out".

I think the turning point has come for me is the past couple of days.  I wondered if events at home would delay the turning point and extend the summer "burnout".  That remains to be seen, because imagination and the actual classroom with the actual little darlings are two different things.  I have been lonely for a few days now, and I think (hope, wish, pray!) that my job is the perfect counterbalance to loneliness.  Children are always needy, or excited, or wondering, or hurt....you get it.  I see one hundred fifty different little ones each day!  There's no way I can be lonely if I truly connect and teach them.  I may be sad underneath, but I won't be lonely!

I do worry some about the coming school year.  I worry that my underneath sadness may surface and cause me to cry, or speak sharply to a child that just needs a gentle correction.  I worry that older little ones, now that they have probably heard why I missed a week last year, will ask me about it, and crack my happy shell and the sadness will pour out.  Hopefully, the very fact that I am worried about them - and how my actions will affect them - will keep me in check.  I like to think I have a protective instinct around the little ones. 

Let's say for now that the turning point seems to be happening, right on schedule.  So many other things have been happening right on schedule since Scott died:  the garbage is collected, the bills have to be paid, haircuts are needed, fingernails keep growing, meals have to be cooked and dishes washed, dogs need grooming.  It shouldn't be amazing to me that I would start feeling ready to see my little ones at school again.  But then again, any good feeling right now amazes me.

In a few weeks, the imagination will become reality.  I really do hope that I can keep the happy face on for the kids and that my twenty-fourth year of teaching music will be as fun for them as it has been for all the little ones through the years.  I'm thankful for the family of friends that will be there with me, and may we all stay away from the "burn-out"!

"Did you know that student over there is banging his head on the table?" 4/27/13

Yes, there was some head-banging happening.  Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to show off.  Four teachers had tried to talk to this student about the issue, but he would just scream and cry.  The main teacher of the student faces this behavior from this same student almost every day.  We know the personality well enough to let them calm down a bit first, then take care of whatever may be wrong, or may have been done wrong. 


At the place where I teach, there is a discipline "program" that we follow.  Let's call it "***".  *** involves rewards for positive behavior.  Many teacher hours go into creating guidelines for behavior in every area of the school; as well as the challenge of constantly being urged to come up with "new, fresh and exciting" rewards.  *** just doesn't work.  It also has given administrative staff the freedom to look at a teacher and say "you need to handle this yourself".

Now, before I expound upon a subject that is not only part of my everyday life, but what I feel is a huge contributor to the greater wrongs in this world, I will at least specify where my experience lies.  I teach elementary music, grades kindergarten through fifth, in a public school in a very large district in Texas.  Our school population for those ages I teach is a little over nine hundred. You may not get the impression from this particular post that I enjoy my career, but I do.  I think I'm very good at a) teaching music basics, b) understanding little ones, respecting and meeting their needs, when possible, and c) using humor and structure to keep order within my classroom.

It's not just bad or ineffective parents that are creating the little ones of today with the "sense of entitlement" and plain old bad manners.  Our schools, starting at the top echelon of each district, are bent on insisting that bad behavior of students is on the decrease.  Programs such as **** serve one purpose - to lower the number of office referrals.  In other words, students that misbehave no longer face consequences.  Therefore, those acts of misbehavior do not become part of the record.

The old-fashioned among you (I include myself) may ask - "What is the purpose of not punishing wrong-doers?  Isn't our whole society based on the concept of law and order?"  You may disbelieve what I am telling you:  that teachers are left to creatively discipline every child for every offense, without any backup or higher consequence.  And yes, it is definitely not a true statement that NOBODY gets in trouble.  If another child is harmed, there are consequences.  If other parents call and complain about things their innocent child is a witness to, or worse, subjected to, steps are taken. If it makes the news, a consequence is part of the press release.  In a nutshell - most things fly under the radar these days, without any serious repercussion for most serious misbehavior. Is it any wonder that some of our young adults that are facing the challenge of mental illness feel more free to act out with violence?

I did a little research - very little, I might add.  I don't know to whom state education agencies are held accountable.  The federal government, for monetary aid?  The taxpayers and voters?  I do know, simply by checking a few state education agency websites, that the public can view the discipline data by district, broken down by offense, race, and economics.  Therefore, it is clear that every school district reports its "dirty laundry" - expulsions, felonious offenses, assault of faculty, even truants and in-school suspensions - to its governing state agency every year. 

Can you imagine the picture of the superintendent of each district lining up at a confession booth?  Every suit and tie business person that runs a district stepping in one at a time to confess the 'sins' of their children?  Of course, that's just imagery on my part.  But it is all reported.  There is paperwork to be done, computer reports to submit, and, eventually, one grand table to be filled in on the state website, for all to see.  Do the results affect anything at a state level?  My research didn't give a clear answer.  But when I checked the Texas Education Agency's website for discipline subjects, I did find a link to the Texas Education Code, Chapter 37, which charges each district to have a code of conduct that specifies everything that could lead to removal from the classroom up to expulsion.  The terms are general, when you look from a elementary viewpoint.  (They also have a misspelled word, which disturbs me on a completely different level.)  I truly believe, with the wording being as general as it is in "Chapter 37", that those discipline reports could be used against a district when it came to funding decisions.  A school district's best bet is to look as perfect as possible.

Perfect?  With children?  Children are not perfect.  They run indoors, they push and hit each other, they interrupt adults, they lie, they show their privates to others, they pitch screaming kicking fits, they peel paint off walls and trash restrooms.  That's just what I could say with one breath.  I've been teaching for twenty-three years.  I'm not being mean - those are the bare facts!  Most children used to be taught to control the afore-mentioned impulses before attending school, but that's where times have changed.  With the advent of more and more working parents and electronic entertainment, over half of a new kindergarten class does not know how to look at an adult and speak their first and last name.  I'm not talking about shyness, I'm talking about social skills.  Instead of being nurtured, experienced in public behavior, learning to sit quietly while be talked to or read to, and having some small responsibilities of which they can be proud of accomplishing, many new kindergarten age (5 years old) students cannot speak their name, do not know if they are a boy or a girl, and cannot walk around the corner to use the restroom alone. Instead of teaching them to start reading and counting and sorting, the first nine weeks of school are used to teach social skills.

Do I have the perfect answer?  Of course not, or I would be in every state capital, selling my "method" to every state agency for the big bucks, like so many other companies and individuals out there.  I've heard and used many methods in all my years.  Most of them are a re-bottling of a college class I took in 1983, called Educational Psychology.  The only new things I learned after that were the changing acronyms and certain gang information that I didn't learn in college!   I know from experience, though, when the shark got jumped.  I know what caused things to head down the wrong path.  It is simply the fact that consequences were removed for general bad behavior.  If a child is nothing but talkative, the teacher must deal with it.  Silent lunch, take recess, sit apart, simple little things.  For a very talkative child (yes, he may need medication, but no teacher can even imply that....or say anything if he is supposed to get it, but doesn't!) those consequences accomplish nothing.  If sending him home would go on that state record, it doesn't happen! That child is free, with only small results, to keep all the other children in the classroom distracted.  Children today are learning that breaking little rules doesn't matter.

My heart goes out to our children that have severe problems, diagnoses, whatever their challenge may be. The child that was banging their head on the table had gotten caught in a lie and was upset with himself. I did go talk to him (again), managed to let him know I would be fair with him when he settled himself and we resolved the issue about thirty minutes later. This child was a ten-year-old.  As I said, I am kind to all and respect them as people even though they are little.  I also manage to keep the terrible behaviors at bay with humor, kindness, a little wisdom (a good seating chart works wonders!!) and a little help from my friends!  But I mourn the loss of the day when teachers, administrators, parents and the community worked as one to make sure that children learned how to behave correctly before they went on to middle school or high school.  I fear that there will be many more violent lessons before we regain the strength and fortitude to actually discipline.  I pray I'm wrong.