Chapter 11: Back Again

After a fraptuous week, our hero again sits in front of a screen, typing away stream of conscious babble to bubble and froth onto the page. What does he think of? What of his experiences? Read on, and find out.

I am so proud of my students. I cannot say that enough, I am so so so so so so proud!

But an interlude first.

It's been some time since I last wrote. In between, there have been snow-storms, holidays, family, reading, writing, and panic.

Yes, panic, because I didn't think about school at all over break. Well, that's not true, I thought about it a little bit the morning before.

"I'll do this," I thought, "they'll love it!" And then I thought. And thought. And thought thought thought thought thought...and decided that it was a terrible idea.

Back to square one.

So, what did I do? I talked to the other teachers, and got an idea. An excellent idea. A purr-fect idea!

Wow, creative commons has everything.

 I told them the story of, "La gallinita roja." Or, to put it in English, "The Little Red Hen."

It's repetitive, it has dialogue, and to top it all off, it's from Nicaragua.

Overall, the kids enjoyed it. I wanted to give them an easier week back, and by focusing on just the input part of the language, I gave it to them. Sadly, I ended the week with an output game which ended up being a lot harder for them than I anticipated, but even so they powered on.

So, what made me so proud of my kidlins? Both of my classes earned back free seating this week. Now, one of the classes earned it back earlier on, and lost it that day in spec-TAC-ular fashion. Obviously, I believed that they could show me that they could keep it, but I was still a little worried. I was vigilant, ready to use my white board if they started getting out of control, and...nothing happened. They were fine. Not perfect, but fine.

Don't get cocky, I told myself, tomorrow's Friday.

And they absolutely hit it out of the park. They gave me great feedback, and I know what my first activity of tomorrow is. I have no idea what I'm going to do for the rest--game or story, game or story--but I think that I will continue with this story for at least one more day before starting a new story. Eh, I can decide tomorrow.

Something that has been on my mind of late are the differences between Public school and private school in the US, because there are differences. How can I explain this...I don't know how to put it into words...no, actually, I think that I can. Public school, it's safe to say, has a nice slice of the American population to it. Even a school in as well-off a place as mine has a wide array of students. Private school...doesn't. That means, of course, that private schools can choose against behaviors, selecting students who are relatively easy to work with, and who can truly excel and help those around them excel. It also means that public schools tend to have a better connection to the surrounding community. Private schools tend to exist in a bubble, where those who attend don't always live in the nearby neighborhood. Public schools, meanwhile, are intently connected to the community, with most-if-not-all students coming from the surrounding area. As such, they have a great incentive to be active in their community, and really integrate the community into the school itself. Private schools, meanwhile, do not quite have that incentive. Every effort to interact with the surrounding people is just that--an effort in and of itself. The incentive can also be a bit tenuous--if those who pay tuition find issue with it, such programs can waste away into dust. Yet, try to talk about this with teachers who are only interacting with one or the other, and they hold to the belief that there really is no difference between the two.

Well, that got depressing fast. That's the last time I let sad music play in the background while I write. So, to counteract, both public and private schools have a lot of strengths. On the whole, I am proud of our education system and how it works. Could it be improved? Yes, and I do think that a good start would be better communication between the two institutions. However, on the whole, learning--as with life--is good. Anyway, it's freezing cold, with the possibility of thunder and lightning tomorrow.

This has been another exciting adventure in the austentatous. If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don't care either way, then tell everyone!
Time for dinner. 

Chapter 10: Winter Break is Coming

When I was younger, snow days were the single greatest thing on the face of the planet. It was like Christmas, my birthday, and my sister's birthday (because, when you're the younger sibling, you're expected to tag along and enjoy the ride) all rolled into one, with the added fun of it being a complete and total surprise. My sister and I would even do snow dances together to try and get the weather to cooperate.

In that last respect, things have not exactly...changed.

I will also say that snow days are still completely awesome. They are filled with relaxation, books, baking, video games (so...much...Mario Party...), and movies.

So...my taste's can be a little...interesting?

An apple-vanilla pie, sprinkled with cinnamon.

Obligatory picture from my walk. Not pictured: ICE OF DEATH!!

Which all goes to say that I've been enjoying my two extra-days of Winter Break. True, Portland Public took forever to decide not to have school on Thursday, but that's neither here nor there.

Having said that, I'm also kind of disappointed. See, Portland is probably going to add days on to the end of the year to make up for these missed days. However, my time with my kids is much more limited, because my student teaching only goes until April 21st, meaning that these are two-days I will not be getting back.

I really like my kids. I mean, I say that about every group of students that I've ever had, and I mean it every time. It always makes me sad to leave them, and I am always cognizant of how little time I have. So, going into this position, I knew that I would get about seven months to be a part of their lives. In those seven months, I would make whatever impact I was going to make, teach them whatever lessons I was going to teach, and help however I was going to help them.

And now, I have lost two precious days.

My personal philosophy of teaching is that the class works best when the students have some input, and material relates back to them. It kind of means that my lesson plans aren't planned out too far in advance, and that nothing is ever glued down until the last time that I teach it (like Tuesday, when I completely threw out my lesson plan about two-hours before my class because I had the inkling of something better, which turned out amazing). However, these past three weeks I have been a bit more overbearing than I like. Basically, over Thanksgiving break I planned out three weeks worth of material--which is way more in advance than I usually do things--and...I would say that it didn't work out as well as usual, because I feel as though I wasn't giving the kids input. I also diverged from the lesson flow that I'd developed over the passed month.

This last Friday, though, was going to change all of that. We were going to end on a day filled with things that they'd showed interest in. We were going to learn the chorus for the Latin-America-Spanish version of, "Let it Go," and how to tie bow ties. I cannot say how excited I was for that lesson. And now...I may never get to teach it. I want to teach the kids these things, but I don't know when I'll get to do it.

*Sigh*

Lesson learned. I do need to work on finding more ways to let the kids have more roles in class. I'm toying with having kids lead the story creation, with me just there to translate and turn it all into excellent Spanish, and having students draw pictures to help create a Spanish-English class dictionary to add to their Google Classroom. Basic ideas to toy around with, so we'll see if anything comes of them.

One last bit of my personal philosophy.

A lot of teachers use tangible rewards. You do well, you get candy/ a key chain/ the bones of an archeopteryx to divine the future (and yes, Firefox dictionary, that is a word). Personally, I'm more about giving kids experiences. It might be because I like collecting them (why else would I scurry out in the middle of a snow-storm, winds howling away, just to see what my usual walk in the park would be like under those conditions? Or ride my bike through below freezing conditions to school? Or put ketchup and cottage cheese on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?). It could also be that experiences last longer than material things. At the end of the day, given the choice, I will give my students an experience to last them a life time. That's why I made sure to let my kids out to play in the snow for the last few minutes of the last two periods of my day. I even made a deal with them, where if they focused they could go out. It's amazing how great kids act when they have something to work towards. My only regret is that I didn't give the same incentive to my fourth period class. But that was the end of two days of awkward lessons for that class, because that's what they wanted, and that's what they were interested in.

This has been another adventure in the austentatious. If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don't care either way, then tell everyone. Good night, and stay warm.

Chapter 9: Shake and Shiver

With shivering fingers the color of a child's ocean, our hero laboriously types out each little letter, letting language convey each idea. Will he ever be warm? Will the sun come again? Or has the world fallen into eternal winter? Our hero will fight on against the darkness, and bring again the days of sun and Summer.

OK, so it's not that cold. In fact, I haven't even turned on my heater tonight.

Last week was a different story.

So, for those who don't know, Portlanders are really weird when it comes to snow. For most of the US, when they get snow, life goes on. It might be life at a slightly slower speed, but it's still a speed none the less. For Portland, however, everything stops when there's even a hint of...this:

heeee :)

Or this:

heeeee :D

Or, horror of horrors, this:

EEEEEE! :D

I still get excited looking at those pictures. And it was because of the threat of all that snow that school on Thursday was canceled. On Wednesday night.

Which is really unusual.

Normally, when there's a threat of snow, the school's wait until the morning of to make the decision to a) have school as normal, b) have a two hour delay, or c) cancel everything and bunker down like the apocalypse is coming. Imagine my surprise, then, when PPS (Portland Public Schools) canceled the night before. It was a miracle. I could turn off my 6:30 alarm! I could sleep in!

Until 4:30am.

I guess you could say that I was a little excited for the snow.

So, I spent the day either shivering in my room near my heating vent (my room mate likes a cold apartment, while I like a little warmth in my life, so we compromise by me just heating up my personal space), and dancing around outside...while still shivering.

Still, the day came to an end, with the promise of school the next day. I went to bed really early, in order to be ready.

Cue 4:30am again--or something close to it--when I receive a text from my mom. "No school for you today." So, what happened?

Well, it had stayed colder than the weather people had expected the night before, and...we had had a bit of freezing rain.

For those unfamiliar with Freezing Rain, it basically is what happens when normal rain hits a layer of cold just above the ground and freezes on contact. It basically turns everything into a sheet of ice, and encases anything left outside in a cocoon of ice. Regrettably, when I took my I-am-insane-but-when-could-I-do-this-again? walk at 9:00 in the morning, I forgot my phone at home, so no pictures.

Where does this leave me, and what does this have to do with student teaching?

Well, I had roughly planned out three weeks of lessons during Thanksgiving break. Using data that I'd obtained by, you know, observing my students, we were going to focus on writing the middle part of a story using a single character. The goal was to give them ideas, with the first story being the character dealing with a problem, the second focusing on the character having a secret, while the third was going to focus on the character having a desire.

But, at this point, I don't think we're going to have time.

Quite frankly, I do want to deal with the character having a desire, but I don't think we'll have enough time to practice the new vocab if we went the way that I was planning. So, I'm going to have to move some things around for it to work, but I think I'll be able to fit it in. Truly, it just depends on how tomorrow goes. If my student's remember the story, and we get through everything at a good pace, then we'll add in a desire. If not...well, then we'll do the desire after Christmas Break with a new character.

One last note, before I sign off: the system works. The system that I made, that I was talking about, works. The students get it, and all that I have to do to get them back on track is pick up the white board and change the number. If it goes down, they quickly shape up. If it goes up, they relax a little bit and feel fantastic about themselves. The best part of the system is that it lets them self-monitor, because that's what I'm really after. If I spend the entire year constantly harping at them with how exactly I want them to shape up, then they'll always expect this input to come from an external source. However, if I can help them self-monitor--and understand when I think that they could do better without telling them how--then I start getting them to be a bit more introspective about their own behavior. Call it an odd quirk, but I'd rather empower my kids to be able to do things on their own than have them depend on me.

Oh, and speaking of which, I've taken a page out of my CT's book, and assigned a BB (Brain Break) person to my classes. This way, when someone thinks the energy is too high--or too low--they can say BB once a class, and we can do something for about a minute that has nothing to do with Spanish to better help them focus on the task at hand.

This has been another adventure in the Austentatious! If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don't care either way, then tell everyone! Good night, stay warm, and stay safe.

Chapter 8: Thanksgiving and the Aftermath

Preparing for the week, a naggling thought in our hero's head niggles into the forefront: something must be written. THE BLOG! With a clatter of dropped pans, he dashes to his room, a mess behind him for future events. Time is of the essence: begin blogging...now!

Well, it's been two weeks since my last post. The first week was Thanksgiving break. Two quick stories from there:
1) The day before Thanksgiving is, essentially, not the day for the get it or fail lesson. So, I taught my kids how to sing a Spanish song: En la feria de San Juan. Imagine, if you will, a set of 31 seventh graders--one quarter going gara gara on their air guitar, another going pidi-pidi-piyo pidi-pidi-piyo on their pipes, another going bom-bom-bom-bom on their drums, and one more going chacka-chacka-chacka-chacka on their maracas. And I got 95% buy in on the song. It was unreal, and I wish that I'd thought to film it.

2) I gave blood for the first time. For those who don't know, needles are a) my worst fear, and b) the fear that I have the least control over. So, yeah, I was a nervous wreck--nearly fainted when I walked into the room--but I went through with it anyway. Do I feel proud of myself? Yes. Will I do it again? Maybe? I don't know, it all depends on where my life takes me.

Now, this past week was stunningly productive. I finished my practice edTPA (huzzah! I'm free, I'm free, I'm free...[suddenly realizing that I have my February learning segment due on Saturday morning] DANG IT!), and completely invented a new system to manage my classroom.

Let me explain!

...

No, that would take too long. Let me sum up:

I am in charge of two seventh grade classes. One--being particularly utilitarian--works perfectly with the curriculum. The other...well, they tend to get excited when someone else has a good idea, and then they like the next idea even more, and the next idea even more...it's like a perpectual motion machine of excitement that just keeps going up until they I've all but lost control.

Read: It doesn't work for them.

So what happened? Well, they essentially went into lock down mode to reset the class. They were given a vocab list to study for a quiz on Friday, a dialogue to memorize as well, and grammar based lessons, which they hated. (It also terrified the other class. I came in the day after we started with the grammar in the other class and they were paying the best attention I have ever seen. It was like a group of Stepford Wives looking out for a hoard of weeping angels. Thankfully, I was able to snap them out of it, but the first 10 minutes were pretty unnerving). And they did it. They hated it, and I hated it, but they did it, and it gave me time to develop something new. I did it because...well, the current system was setting them up for failure.

Oooh, a nonsensical graph! That makes complete sense.

Sarcastic captions aside, this graph is their behavior in October. 0 is basically asleep; 1 is focused, on task, and with good energy; and 2 is out of control. After the first 2, they got a seating chart, and we made a set of classroom agreements (theirs were stellar), and we agreed that if they could maintain them for 5 days (in other words, get a 1 for five days in a row) that they'd get class seating back.

They did not do that.

And, looking at the graph, they were never going to. Basically, every one and a half to two days, they'd have a meltdown and lose it. Once they figured out that they'd lost their streak, they would get worse.

In other words, the system was setting them up completely for failure, and as a teacher, I can't abide by that idea.

So, I invented something new...or, probably more accurately, I stole the basic idea from somewhere that I can't really remember, and changed it in a way that will help them kids succeed. Here's how it works:
As a group, they have a certain number of class points. ten and above, and they have free seating. Anything below that, and they start losing privileges. Anything negative, and we go to grammar classes.
So, how do they gain/ lose points?
Every day, they start with 2 daily points. This is the level that I expect them to be able to be at in order to basically succeed in class. If they exceed my expectations, then they can get 3 points (if they get 3s on consecutive days, then I start adding multipliers, up to a x3). If they start to slip, then their points can go down. Although the daily points are only added to the class points at the end of class, I can change my projection at any time. This means that, at any time, I can change the number to let them know that they are either doing an exceedingly good job, or that they need to step it up (minus points are only going to happen if anyone is out of control. Hopefully no one ever gets that bad again).
What do they get out of it?
Three things: First, they get their privileges back. Second, for every multiple of 25 they hit (and it's only once per number), they get a game day. Number three, on those same multiples, they get to pick out two props for me to wear ALL DAY. A chance to humiliate the teacher? I think I've got 'em.
Why is this system better than the old one?
Well, for one it's not an all-or-nothing system. As I said, with the previous system once they figured they weren't going to add to their streak (again, it was every few days) they would blow up a little bit. With this system, having a bad day doesn't completely sink their chances. In fact, it is specifically built with bad days in mind. Number two, there wasn't a whole lot of feedback that I could give to the class with the previous system, except, "I think you're getting a little out of control." With this system, they get constant feedback, and it's going to be easy for everyone to see just what the feedback is. Lastly, it is a system designed around setting them up for success.

And, at the end of the day, isn't that what teaching is about?

I mean, I get that imparting the information and being able to do the skills is important, but I feel that it's also important to remember just where the kids are going. 10 years down the line, I want my students to be able to still speak Spanish, but I also want them to be able to be successful adults. Amazingly enough--and hard to believe while in the daily trenches--but there is life outside of the classroom. It is both awesome and terrifying--like a deity who forgot to put on pants--but one day my students will be entering jobs, deciding on their next elected representative, and populating the globe. And I want them to be incredible at every single aspect of their lives--to make other people stare in amazement that such superb examples of human beings actually exist--and that includes spending some time to focus on the things in life that don't have to do with Spanish. And if that means spending the rest of my free time for student teaching finding a way to make each and every one of them successful, then so be it, at least I can say that in the brief six-month time I was part of their lives, I worked to make a difference. And that, dear reader, is the absolute least that I ever want to say about any of my teaching experiences!

This has been another adventure in the Austentatious--brought to you by a man who is too cheap to turn on the heat, and too cold to have proper dexterity. If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don't care either way, then tell everyone.

Peace out!

Chapter 7: The Movement

Typing furiously at his keyboard, our hero realizes the terror that is 9:00pm on a Sunday night. Quickly switching gears and tabs, he valiantly types a post to please, an escrit to ascribe, a dictation to delight: Chapter 7, the movement.

So, not a lot of time to write. I've been working on edTPA quite a bit this weekend...again...because grad school? It's a lot of hurdles, and it will be worth it in the end. It's funny, actually, how the words we use to describe something affects how we view it. For example, on days when I call the edTPA a, "gigantic waste of time and paper," I put almost no effort into it. In fact, what I do put down is terrible gibberish that even an ancient Greek would think too incomprehensible to be called gibberish. However, when I call it, "something that I need to do," I do a fairly comprehensible job. And when I call it, "a way to strut my stuff," well...let's just say the rooster's not the only one who can be both prideful and flamboyant.

Anyway, this is my quick breather before I dive back in for about 10 minutes. So, here goes the plunge.

Monday was really cool. It was our first day back since the election, so the students were all a chitter about, well, things. I started both of my seventh grade classes with a little spiel about all being welcome in class, but by the great broo-ha-ha I will never tolerate one person disrespecting another (and, yes, that does include making fun of someone for supporting Trump). I also got to really rely on my Kindergarten training. See, anyone who says that it's a teacher's job to teach isn't lying, but they're not telling the whole story either. See, it's also the teacher's job to monitor the energy levels in the classroom, and make sure everyone's on track. So, if a class is almost falling asleep (I had several of those this week), it's my job to pump. Them. Up! (and next time, we will be doing the chicken dance). Meanwhile, if I have a class that's bouncing off the walls, it's my job to get them back in their seats. Before Kindergarten, I was really good at the first, and usually added to the second...which, to be honest, can work really well. I mean, catch the energy right, and it's like you're surfing on it. Catch it wrong and...it's less like wiping out, and more like being smash against the coastal glass-and-lemon-juice factory. Repeatedly. And with a vengeance.
Because of a year in Kindergarten, however, I have learned how to calm kids down when needed, which was especially helpful 5th period. We had 45 students (and I have to just say, that I am deeply proud of them) walk out of the school to join a protest. Most of them came back within ten minutes because they got cold, but it was still really cool. It also had all of the other students jumping around like goons. I mean, the "silent five" (first five minutes = no talking = golden classroom management technique) were turning into the "screaming futile." So, I sat down.
It really is amazing how much the energy changes when the person in charge (well, nominally in charge at that moment) chooses to sit down and be a calm center. It doesn't kill the energy. It focuses it. And it did. Like the other classes, I started by addressing them, but I used a different speech. Instead of everyone being welcome, it was that exciting events were happening, and that I recognized the importance of the events to them. I also recognized that the protests were a way for them to vent their anger that they had no vote in the system, and as such no voice, and that I valued their voices. One student was then cheeky and asked if his voice was valued, then why didn't he have a vote? I answered him that we could talk about that later, since we had a time built in to talk about the election. (Fun fact: it has to do with medieval ideas of chivalry. Namely, the coming of age for a boy was when his body was matured enough to take on the tasks of adulthood. That conception of the change carried over into the founding of our country, and so 21 became the age when people got the vote. We can all thank Vietnam for the impetus to change the voting age to 18.)
To be honest, though, it really is amazing how much people's reactions can change when they feel as though they are being listened to. Listening, by the way, doesn't mean that you hear the words that they say. It also doesn't mean that you plan ahead what you're going to say. Listening means that you give the person space to say what is on their mind, and you hear the message behind their words. For example, "If I have a voice, why don't I have a vote?" If I just heard the words, then it would be cheek, and I would have brushed it off to the side. However, by listening to the message underneath--"I hear adults say that, but because I can't take any actions and no one seems to be taking what I'm feeling seriously, so I don't believe you"--I was able to change that question into an answer that made the student feel valued.
Oh, and I really did answer the student. We ran out of time, so I made sure to call them over and explain it after class. I don't think that they were actually looking for an answer, but they've been a heck of a lot better with me in class since.

OK, other things: Still learning a lot. Still got legs. My seventh graders now have a seating chart (I had them come up with an agreement of how they would show me that they could get free seating back, and then had them come up with some things that I could do for them to get it back, because I always hated it when a teacher said that we could earn back free seating by being good, without ever telling us what that meant. We'll see how long this takes), and it's needed a couple of revisions. New Pokemon game, so my life is filled with excitement, and...yeah. It's a two day week, so this will be interesting. I'm starting Tuesday with a Free-Write in the library for the kids, and then planning on teaching them some Spanish songs for the rest of class. Other shenanigans coming soon. Now, BACK TO edTPA!

This has been another exciting adventure in the austentatious. If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don't care either way, then tell everyone. Good night, and HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!

Chapter 6: A Turn of Events

Time is like a small child: everything seems fine until they wonder what happens when you throw the iron at mommy.

It has been quite a week (I feel like I say that a lot. Do I say that a lot? I should check...survey says that this is the third time I've said something like it in three weeks. So...

RESET

I has a fantabulous week (and suddenly all is sunshine, rainbows, lollipops, and...dogs in tutus. Well, I've been spending too much time in middle school). Got to see the OES play, get my kitchen all clean, have adventures with parents, but first...I started out finishing the story with my seventh graders, by having them come up with an ending. Those fantastic fiends friends thought enthusiastically, daringly--dare I say--creatively to come up with...

darkness, lights up, the music swells AS...

 (knock knock knock) Megan Fox knocks on the door. They let her in. (cue romantic music) Megan Fox proposes to Jake from State Farm. He says yes. The two ride away on a unicorn to Chuck E Cheese, and they all lived happily ever after.

The End

WooooooOOOOooooow...so, blogger has precisely ZERO interesting fonts. Anyway...

So, that lesson could have gone better, because I didn't plan enough. See, that's the difference between this teaching and all of the other classroom teaching that I've ever done (AASK doesn't count, because the focus was purely on providing an experience): I'm planning everything. Over in Japan (aside from from a small time in the returnee class) everything that I taught was from a company-made lesson plan. Did I follow them exactly? No--in the case of the kid's classes--because a) their games really were not very fun for the most part, and b) they only had a small amount of time for the games. So, I guess that you could say I followed the lesson plan--with a few things jostled around--just not the lesson times.

As for OES...aside from a few math lessons that I got to teach, I was more of a helper for the students. So, my ability to plan was minimal.

But here I am, planning everything out for 50 minutes, and in this case I over estimated how long the main part of the lesson would take. I thought that it would take 20 minutes, when it only took about 8. So, 12 minutes of extra time? On the first day of a two day week? When the kids are already filled to the brim with excess energy, and any weakness or lack of fortitude is leapt upon and devoured like a pack of black holes zooming in on a baby gazelle.

Yeah...that could have gone better.

The next day, however, went swimmingly well. We acted out the story (overact is more like it, with hilarious results), and then took an assessment. In MY day (being of the ripe old age of 25.5#####) we would have called it a quiz. But NO, we must move with the times. So, now it's called an assessment. Watching them do said assessment was really interesting. They struggled with the first part (translate the English in to Spanish), did really well at the second and third...

You know what? No. This is the kind of stuff that I'm writing for my edTPA. It's boring and lifeless, and no one needs to read it. So, long story short, the assessment went great...

And then I surprised the kids. With doughnut-holes! The instant they came out, I had the attention of every single person in the class. And they all got one. Why? As a thank you. It seems to me that when someone goes out of their way to do something nice for you, that you should thank them. These students, I would say, had gone out of their way to do something nice for me. These lessons were not perfect, and I'm clearly still learning how to do this teaching thing. The students could have made the experience a living heck. But, instead, they gave me honest feedback, and put up with times when the lessons didn't go as well. I can't imagine how frustrating it would be to constantly have a stream of student teachers going in and out of school, making connections and then breaking them off, and I guess that I just want to say, here and now, Thank you. To my current students in my classroom, thank you for trusting me enough to not only be honest with me, but to go with what I asked of you. I know that I've said it before--and that I will say it again--but thank you so much.

The next two days were conference days, or

Adventures in the Land of the Parents!!!

That means--for my teacher and me--12 hour days of back to back 10 minute conferences, with the only breaks being about one hour long for lunch and dinner.

Ugh.

So, what goes into a conference from a teachers side? Well, we need to explain the curriculum. We need to explain how the students are doing. We need to explain how they can improve. We also need to make it personal--not in the, "I hate your child for being too stupid to understand my genius," but of the, "so and so said this on Tuesday, and I thought that it was beautiful and really showed me that blah blah blah." Not only that, but I had to sit...

and sit....

and SIT!!!!

For the entire time! And here I am, used to spending the entire day on my feet, being forced to sit for three hours at a time.

It was like being trapped on a plane, only I've left my 3ds and books at home. Thankfully, there are people to talk to, but that's a small condolence when you're a) hungry, &/or b) can I please stop talking to you so my bladder will stop talking to me?

But it was all worth it, for Friday was off. So, what do I do on my day off? Sit around, doing nothing? Go out, explore the world until I'm sick and tired of people? Work ahead?

Ha, no. I go back to school. My school: Oregon Episcopal School.

I meant to spend about half an hour there. Just a quick, "hello, good morning, Happy Friday, everything's going well-bye!" Sort of thing. But that didn't happen. Instead, I talked for a long time with many people (not everyone that I wanted to see, but oh well), had lunch, talked some more, enjoyed the campus...

It's interesting coming back to the place I grew up in after I leave, because I always see it differently than when I left. I remember coming back after college, and seeing my old friends...then watching them graduate, until there was no one left that I could say I'd gone to High School with...but still, I made friends with the students, and still had strong connections. Then I went away to Japan, and when I came back it all seemed...so quaint, with this awesome lack of stress. At the same time, I'd been working at a school in a different culture, and I began to see missed opportunities, and cares that I didn't really care about any more, and a way of looking at the world that was no longer...me. And now I've come back again...OES is there. It will always be there, and I know that, in one way or another I will always be able to come back. But, after seeing public school, I'm beginning to realize just how lucky everyone who is there is. The food is fantastic, the people are all kind, and there's a disconnect from the outside world. There's also a calmness there that I don't find in Robert Gray and...I'm not sure what I think about it. It really is amazing how separate private and public schools are, where the norms of the former (yeah, at OES my students all called me Mr. Austin) can be as shocking to the public schoolers as the other way around ('my teacher directly calls out students' 'why doesn't she take them off to the side?' 'Because, with over 30 students, there is no way she'd have enough time while keeping the rest on track.') I am glad that I am having these experiences, and not just because they're helping me to grow. Once again, I feel like there are a set of missed opportunities, where no one wants to reach out and bridge a divide to really find how different life is like on the other side.

Still, the week ended on a high note (I'm ignoring Tuesday night and Saturday. The former, because I'm still processing and watching how things roll out; the latter, because 8 hours of class really isn't blog worthy. Oooh, the professor ended the class by reading a list of possible project topics from the paper he'd posted on the class website. It went on for four pages? Edge of the seat material, right there.) On Friday night, I got to see...

Journey to the West (fun cultural fact: in many Asian countries, the color red is associated with good fortune.)

It's a Chinese Epic poem that the OES theater department had turned into a two hour play, and they did a fantastic job. The costumes were excellent (I really wanted to try them on), it was really funny, and overall I was impressed. The students made this OES theater alum proud. I was especially happy after the show, because I got to see some people that I'd been looking for earlier and missed (only one of them shook my hand. Personally, I would have preferred a hug--oh-murderer-of-the-historian--and a longer chat, but such is life. That's another interesting difference I've notice between public and private school. At OES, everyone is very hugy. At Robert Gray, not so much. Hmmm...I might have to check the handbook on that...), and I made sure to bring a pen to get lots of autographs (once again, really pleased with the first one that I got, and all of the rest of them as well. Especially a certain someone who climbed over a boulder to get to me, as well as someone who was looking for me during the show[front and center, I was!], and the one who yelled at me, and the one back stage, and the one with the fantastic headdress...all of them, really). Why did I want autographs? The most magical show that I did, I played Templeton the Rat, and one of the things that I remember the most was the kids lining up to get autographs. If you have worked hard at something, then it deserves to be special. I just hope that I helped make the experience special for them by asking for autographs. And, hey, in a few weeks, Robert Gray has a play too. Now, won't that be fun?

This has been another exciting (and surprisingly positive) adventure in the austentatious! If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell you enemies; and if you didn't care either way, then tell everyone! Good night. (next week, I promise, there will be pictures)

Alright, just one note on the election: I live in Portland. We went so overwhelmingly for Hilary Clinton that the only word I can use to describe it is landslide. So, on Wednesday morning, after Trump was declared the winner, the whole city felt like it was in mourning. The cars were slow, the sky was overcast, and even the sounds were sad. It was a very odd experience that I'm still trying to grapple with, but one that I want to write down to help start that process.

Xenologue-What Exactly Do I Do?

So, here's where I explain the nitty-gritty of what I'm doing in the Spanish Classroom. Basically, my classroom uses

Teaching Proficiency Through Reading and Storytelling (ECHO ECHO ECHO ECHO echo...) Which basically means that we teach Spanish by crowd sourcing stories from the classroom, and we do this with a focus on what's called, "Comprehensible Input." What does that mean? Well...
100% of the Spanish is...
100% compressible/ understandable to...
100% of the students,
100% of the time! (I skipped Yellow because I have a hard time seeing it on the white background of the pre-published screen).

Basically, the theory goes that students pick things up easier if they understand them. I guess, from a neurological point of view, if you're spending less brain power trying to figure out what is going on, you can spend more brain power committing it to memory.

So, what's the goal?

Well, we want our students to be able to communicate in Spanish, instead of understanding the basic grammatical forms. I mean, 

I don't know about you, dear reader, but most people at dinner parties back away if I ask them to identify the adjective in the sentence.

So, in other words, the students can use the grammar, but they don't know what it's called. In hoity-toity terms, it's the difference between Acquiring a language and Learning it. With Learning, there are long vocab lists, grammar worksheets, and a lot of stress. With acquisition, there isn't a lot of overt instruction, the only vocab that they learn is a relatively small amount that they practice again and again (our students generate it themselves, so we know that they are words the students will actually use), and the focus is on being able to get a message across, not on getting the message across right. As for why we use stories, it's to make the whole process fun. People love making and hearing stories. It's why Nanowrimo is a thing, movies, books, TV shows, etc are popular, and why news narratives work. People just remember a story far better than they remember a list of facts. 

The last big tenant of the program is that we want our students to feel comfortable. The idea is that students will remember things better and participate more if they not only feel comfortable in the class room, but have a relatively low-stress environment too.

So, what do I think of it?

I think that it works well. We just had conferences, and even the 7th graders--who had only been in the classroom for about 11 weeks (and not all full weeks either)--were able to start telling stories for their parents if they came to the conference. To be honest, their ability to produce the language and get a coherent point across is absolutely amazing, and I am very impressed.

Having said that...

I'm not completely convinced. The goal is to make learning Spanish the same as how our students learned English, and it's never going to happen. That's not because we don't try, but because we will never be able to fully create a) the environment, and b) the brain chemistry. The brain of a Middle Schooler is very different from the brains of babies and toddlers. They simply don't make the same kinds of connections, and are wired extremely differently. I mean, yes, we can give them a firm base in the language, but I simply cannot find the data to see how high up the language can go.

So, to wrap up, I think that the way that we are teaching Spanish will give us amazing results. I think that the students are able to get their points across with the language--our main goal--and that everyone is having a lot of fun. I also think that this is the best way for a novice to get acclimated to the language...but that adding in supplementary things could benefit the students as well. Helping them to make explicit connections--which we do sometimes in class--can have fantastic results. However, while I am a guest in this classroom, playing around with how I teach can only go so far. It will only be once I get into my own classroom--in whatever city, and on whatever continent that may be--that I will really be able to try out things and find a healthy medium that matches what I want to do as a teacher.

PS) If you would like to see an example of TPRS, please follow this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtgHO1V4uDE