My goodness, what a week it has been.
And what a week it will be.
First off, Tuesday was the Day of the Dead...which means that all of the project stuff was due. All of the altars (Yay! Now I can spell that blasted word) were due, and all of the posters were as well. I've got to say, I'm impressed. The altars turned out fantastically, with most being taller than myself. Really, I could tell that all of them were filled with love and hard work...just some of them needed the hard work to be spread out a bit more, while for some the hard work could have been a bit more focused. For all of them, though, they had a right to feel proud.
As for the posters...well, my first class never worried me. As I believe that I have said before, they're a very utilitarian class. They get stuff done on time, and to the letter...just without a lot of special touches. The other class, though...I'll be honest, I was a good deal worried for several groups. There was one in particular that nearly gave me a heart attack, because they had such a grand idea, and were not doing the best job bringing it to fruition. However, they were one of the groups to take it home over the weekend, giving it the attention it deserves...and then they forgot it at home on Monday. Talk about a heart attack for me...however, on Tuesday, they brought in a poster that was beyond expectations. Really, this thing is an amazing piece of work. Anyway, this project taught me something about myself...
I hate, loathe, dislike, cannot stand giving a student a D.
I did it, I'm not proud of it, and it's their own fault for forgetting the heading, but it definitely did not make me feel good. I mean, what could I have done to help them? How did I fail them as a teacher? Why didn't I notice that they needed a push?
More on that soon.
So, with Day of the Dead done, we moved back into normal life. For the eighth graders, that meant taking down their altars--a far, far, far, FAR faster process--while for the seventh graders, that meant a return to focusing on stories. Which, for me, meant my first time really taking the kids through their stories. But, not just any stories--oh no. See, for edTPA, I need to do my lessons, and they all have to be exactly planned out before I even begin. I can't do what my cooperating teacher usually does, which is to say, "OK, since today they did this and got to here, tomorrow we're going to do this!"
So, to get the students ready for greater structure, I decided to have them practice with what I shall call a per-fabricated fable. Basically, I write the bare bones, and have them fill in the names, and then flesh it out. That way, I get to write out everything before hand, and my students still get to make it their own. You know, something fun, something fantastic, something that the students will really get something out of.
My first lesson was a disaster.
Now, not a complete disaster, but...let me explain. So, the first slide--where we introduce our characters, and I ask the students for names--went swimmingly. It was easily understood, and the kids gave me great ideas for names (What were the names? Well, in the first class we have Requisha, Sharquisha, and Quesadisha; and Juan, Jessica Davis, and--once again, I swear, generated by the kids--Jake from State Farm for the second class).
Then we got to the second slide.
In retrospect, it should have been obvious that a wall of text was a bad idea. But I just had so much to say, and I really wanted to emphasize the difference between the beginning, middle, and end of a story by having each be its own slide.
Lesson learned, don't put form over function. I learned that lesson for my wardrobe, so you would think I would apply it to my teaching.
Oh, but the problems didn't stop there. See, this is a Comprehensible Input classroom. That means that the kids are given the resources (from word walls, to cognates, to exaggerated actions) to understand everything in Spanish that is directed at them (this means that, for my teacher and me, Spanish is like a shared code-language). This text, while in the spirit of CI, had assumed a certain degree of knowledge in the language that the author (cough cough) had had at the same point in his language career.
It was not a good assumption.
Not only were they not getting most of it, but they weren't telling me that they weren't. The expectation is that if they don't understand, they need to show me jazz hands. And none of them were. Thankfully, my cooperating teacher kept pointing out that they should, but it made that part of the lesson a real slog for everyone involved. For me, it was a reminder to really double check the words available to them first, and for them, it was a reminder that I'm learning too.
At the end of the lesson, I gave a quick assessment. The last question was asking them what they noticed about the story. Many of them gave me feedback on my teaching instead, which I am so thankful for. My cooperating teacher also gave me feedback, and echoed what they had said. She then offered to change the story around (she'd already changed a few things for the first slide.) I declined, and said that I'd rather do it myself. I then spent my entire lunch period, reworking the story. The second class went so much better than the first with the new story. The next day, I started the first class by introducing them to the new story, and things went so much better after that.
Now, back to that point I skipped over earlier. That first lesson was filled with problems, and it was a lesson that I myself had created just for them. In essence, I failed in almost all of my goals. And, I can say, that it was OK. I learned so much from that experience, and I used it to improve for the second class, which is really different from the first time I'd failed a lesson.
I'll be honest, I don't remember the exact date, and I neither want to, nor need to. But, somehow, early on in Japan I taught a terrible lesson. Now, it wasn't bad enough to warrant a refund--yes, it really does happen to some people--but it still wasn't...good.
And it destroyed me.
"What?" I thought to myself, "I am not yet the perfect personification of a teacher? I still have things to learn? But I'm 22 years old! I've taught in summer camp for 3 years! Surely I should be good enough not to make mistakes like this."
Oh, the naivety.
Shortly after that, my manager had to talk to me for the first time. Again, I was devastated. See, I'd made a promise to myself that I was just going to be good enough that my manager wouldn't need to do that--in hindsight, a young-person's promise--so by her talking to me, I had failed. And I became...difficult isn't the right word...a monster doesn't go far enough...hmmm...like a two-year old in a temper tantrum? Yeah, that sounds about right. It was one of the things that broke me, early on, just one brick on top of another.
But dang, if I'm not thankful for that manager. I made her life hell, and she never gave up on me. I learned so much from that woman, and one of my greatest regrets is that I was never able to effectively communicate to her just how much she had done for me, and how thankful I was for everything.
What a difference a few years makes.
If I'd gone right into grad school...well, let me tell you, I'd feel sorry for anyone forced to be my cooperating teacher. Inevitably, I'd have taught a lesson like my one this week, where it just didn't go well.
It happens.
But it would have probably destroyed me. I would probably have finished the program, but it would not have been easy. In the end, I probably would stay wondering why the students hadn't understood my brilliant lesson, and might never have figured it out.
Sometimes life takes us on a circuitous route to get to our end goal. Going to Japan was a bit of a whim, but it was one that served me well. It taught me that failure is a part of life, and to accept it. It also taught me how to move on from my failures to make things better. In essence, it made my successes this week possible (Me: Alright, tell me about how you fleshed out your characters! Student: [paraphrased, and in Spanish]Well, Megan Fox is in love with Jake from State Farm, but Jake from State Farm isn't in love with her, so she wants to eat him and his siblings). Also, as a surprise for them, I'm bringing in donuts on Tuesday as a thank you gift, because I do feel as though people doing nice things for you should be recognized. I don't hold with material bribes for good classwork anymore, because it only really enforces that you should learn something because of the reward it gets you. It also means that the students will only do something for you if they get something out of it, and I can't support that.
Anyway, 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! Happy MONDAY!
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