Since Sam and Dave Dig a Hole
by Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen is a book that totally perplexed me, and given that it just won a
Caldecott honor, I decided to read it to my 8th graders this week. This
is a book that spurred much discussion and perplexity
in my classroom. I was delighted
at the thinking and questioning it sparked.
In addition to reading the story as a class, my students read about some of Travis Jonker's theories
(they particularly liked the Jesus theory) and came up with some of
their own, my favorite being that the book starts at Dave's house and
ends at Sam's house. When I told Travis about this theory on Facebook,
it led to quite a spirited discussion by teachers, librarians authors, and the like, particularly the idea of whether or not Sam and Dave were
brothers or cousins (there's a line in the story that mentions their
grandfather, meaning they shared a grandparent). If they were cousins,
then beginning at one house and ending at another would be plausible,
but not so much if they were brothers.
My students
asked if I would tweet Jon and Mac to ask them what they think happens
at the end of the story. I doubt very much that they would reveal that
information, and even if they would, I don't know if I want the answer.
The whole reason people love this book is because it spurs so much
discussion. So as tempting as it is to tweet Jon and Mac and ask, "So
what is your take on what happened at the end of your crazy book?" I think I will pass. Then again, they do give a little clue as to what they think happens at the end in this interview:
Still, I think I'm
just going to embrace the uncertainty and let this story spontaneously
insert itself into class discussions for the rest of the year. For instance, "Well, what about Sam and
Dave Dig a Hole? That book doesn't have a denouement." (Denouement is
their new favorite word to use in class discussions).
For those people who don't think picture books should be read to students past 3rd grade, I have just added another book to the pile that cements my argument as to why they are for ALL AGES, not just primary grades. This book is full of complexity and makes a case for the importance of visual literacy (Explain the reasoning behind wanting to show a full spread of the house, the pets, and the tree without Sam and Dave at the end of the book. What is this trying to tell us here?). I have to admit, I missed a lot of the visual cues I was supposed to notice my first (and second!) read-throughs. It was only until students began to point them out that I started to make those connections. So again, please, I beg of you, do not assume that because a book is only 32 pages and has pictures that it is overly simplistic. I can assure you, there are many picture books that can teach literary elements just as well, if not better, than novels.
Sam and Dave Dig a Hole by Mac Barnett, illustrated by Jon Klassen Published: October 14, 2014 Publisher: Candlewick Pages: 40 Genre: Picture Book Audience: EVERYONE! :D Disclosure: Library Copy
If you buy this book or any book
through Amazon, it is my hope that you also regularly patronize
independent bookstores, which are important centerpieces of thriving
communities. While I am an Amazon Affiliate, that by no means implies
that I only buy my books through their website. Please make sure you are
still helping small, independent bookstores thrive in your community.
To locate an independent bookstore near you, visit IndieBound.
Emmarene idolizes the great jazz singer Bessie Smith. But when she can't afford a ticket to Bessie's show in her hometown, she decides to go anyway and listen outside the tent. On the night of the show, Emmarene pokes her head through the tent so she can not only hear, but see the glamorous singer strut around in her feather boa. Soon, however, Emmarene notices some nefarious figures on horses, dressed in white sheets, carrying torches. The Night Riders, otherwise known as the Ku Klux Klan, have come to sabotage Bessie's show!
No longer worried someone might catch her without a ticket, Emmarene bursts into the show to warn everyone of the Night Riders outside. While others cower in fear, bold and brazen Bessie marches right outside and confronts the men on horseback, not only scaring them off with her words, but with her powerful singing voice.
"Find the story in history."
This is a quote attributed to both authors Matt Phelan and Audrey Vernick when I asked them -- on separate occasions -- how teachers can help make research more appealing to students. So often we ask students to research for facts, figures, and statistics, but the truth of the matter is, there is more to research than facts. History is full of stories just waiting to be told, and how we research in school just doesn't seem to jive with how people research in real life. Real research compels a person to learn more. Not so much in school. Again, I'll use Audrey Vernick as an example. She writes both fiction and nonfiction picture books, and one of her most recent picture books, Brothers at Bat, was a story she found in her neighborhood that was just waiting to be told.
You get the sense that a story like Bessie Smith and the Night Riders was something that Sue Stauffacher happened upon while reading a Bessie Smith biography, perhaps that dedicated only a few paragraphs to the incident, but Stuaffacher decided that Smith's run-in with the Ku Klux Klan WAS the story and knew it deserved greater elaboration.
What if we asked our students to research this way? To treat it as if they are searching for treasure? Find a topic you are interested in, "find the story" and then write it. I wonder what gems they might dig up.
I'm already planning this as a research/writing assignment for my next classroom right now as we speak -- and I don't even have one yet.
Bessie Smith and the Night Riders by Sue Stauffacher, illustrated by John Holyfield Published: January 6, 2006 Publisher: Putnam Pages: 32 Genre: Picture book Disclosure: Library copy
This is the first year I'm participating in August 10 for 10 but I'm so excited to be a part of such a great sharing experience. This feature is hosted by Cathy Mere and Mandy Robeck. Follow the hashtag on Twitter: #pb10for10
So many people think that picture books are just for little kids. I'm here to tell you they're not. As a middle school teacher, I use picture books all the time. Here are my top ten favorite picture books to use with middle schoolers.
Now what on earth is a middle school teacher doing with a book about kindergarten? I'll tell you what: This book is hilarious and has quite a sassy humor about it that middle schoolers love. So much so that they created their own picture books inspired by Vernick's Buffalo book. Some of theirs included:
Is Your Chicken Ready to Cross the Road?
Is Your Iguana Ready for Space Travel?
Is Your Alien Ready to Abduct Humans?
Is Your Hippo Ready for Ballet?
Is Your Monkey Ready for Spanish Class?
Teach Your Giraffe to Drive
Teach Your Pig to Fly
Each one just as hilarious as the original.
2. Forgive Me, I Meant to Do It: False Apology Poems by Gail Carson Levine, illustrated by Matthew Cordell
Have you ever noticed that William Carlos Williams' poem "This is Just to Say" is apologizing something that he's not really sorry for? He confesses to his crime, explains why it was wrong, and then gives a very insincere apology for eating the plums that "you" were probably saving for breakfast.
Gail Carson Levine ran with this idea and created a whole book of false apology poems. After showing students the skeleton of the poem and some examples from the book, I have them create some of their own false apologies and they are nothing short of brilliant. In fact, I'm going to use that as a segue into the next picture book by sharing this poem that one of my students, Maria, created this past year:
3. This is Not My Hat by Jon Klassen
OK, so even before I heard Jon Klassen's Caldecott speech where he said his inspiration for writing This is Not My Hat was "The Telltale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe (what?), I knew this book was perfect for middle schoolers because there are some complex issues you must tackle in this short little story: stealing and vengeance being two issues right there. Once you think about it that way, it's no wonder Poe inspired Klassen!
But my favorite moment from reading this story to my students came from one of my 8th graders, Zoe, who was very upset at the big fish in the book and decided she had a score to settle with him:
Dear Big Fish from This is Not My Hat, You are a mean-spirited and evil fish! The little fish did you a
favor buddy. The hat you were wearing was way too small for you. How
could you be so mean to Little Fish after you saw how cute he swam? He
was adorable and you, I can't even talk to you right now... You ate Little Fish! Have you no soul man! All Little Fish wanted to
do was to look snazzy with a hat (that fit properly). Yes, I'll admit it
was wrong of Little Fish to steal it, but it was worse of you to eat
him! Now Big Fish, you sit down and think about what you have done. Please don't get me started about that crab... - Zoe E.
4. The Quiet Book by Deborah Underwood, illustrated by Renata Liwska
This gentle little picture book inspired me to have my students create their own LOUD Book, and wouldn't you know it, a year later, Deborah Underwood did too.
Middle schoolers absolutely LOVE Elephant and Piggie. Every time I would bring in a new book and put it on the whiteboard ledge, it would get passed around the entire day. So don't tell me these books are just for little kids. It's all about creating a culture in the classroom that celebrates ALL books.
On the
surface, this book appears quite simple in nature, but is hugely
symbolic and would be fabulous to discuss in any classroom - all the way
up to college.
In fact, the story is so symbolic, it reads like a free-verse poem. There is so much hidden meaning within its sparse words.
Any book where one of the main characters is a jackass is bound to be more apropos for older than younger readers, am I right? In fact, when my 8th graders last year were trying to stall for time because they didn't want to have to do an assignment I was going to give them, they asked me to read It's a Book to them again because they remembered me reading it to them in 6th grade.
Read this book and then tell me all picture books are for little kids. Go ahead. I dare you. Because I'm thinking this one would be better suited for a high school history class.
Kadir Nelson captures the human spirit like no other artist I've ever seen . And this book is probably his most stunning to date. How can you not stare in awe at that beautiful cover? Students feel the same way too.
A book about bullying that empowers the bystander. The last line will resonate with kids and can easily inject itself into discussions for well after it's been read to the class.
I met with a new family doctor this week whom I absolutely adore,
but one of the things she suggested to me was to try to eat fish at least once a
week.
I don't like fish. At least I think I don't. I
have to admit, I've never tried every single fish out there. In general,
however, fish and me don't get along.
But
I have decided that before I spend my entire life thinking I don't like ALL fish, I will make an attempt to try different types of
fish to see if there's anything I do like, or at the very least, tolerate. I had a taste of this back in
June when my husband and I went to Iceland and I had Arctic char for the first time. It was phenomenal. It was light yet meaty and had a mild
salmon flavor. I could deal with fish if it all had the taste and texture of Arctic char.
This Arctic char I had in Iceland made me think maybe there is other fish I might like
But Arctic char is like $18 a pound, so you know, I should probably see what else is out there if I want to make an attempt to eat fish once a week.
When I was at Whole Foods this weekend, I actually strolled over to the seafood counter, which I usually quickly bypass on other trips to the grocery store. This time I made an effort to talk to the lady behind the counter to ask her about the different kinds of fish and what she would recommend for someone like me who doesn't generally like it. She suggested catfish since it has a mild flavor and is great for grilling. So I bought four small fillets of catfish and grilled them for dinner.
They weren't bad. I didn't LOVE it, but the mild flavor didn't send my gag reflex into overdrive either. So overall, it was a successful attempt at trying something new.
Believe it or not, this encounter made me think about how my aversion to fish is not unlike reluctant readers. Reluctant readers think they don't like all books, when in reality, they just haven't found a book they really like. Back in June, I had a taste of a fish I really like which allowed me to be curious about what else is out there.
Teachers, don't give up on those students who turn their nose up at books. It's your job to try to find them their Arctic char. To be that fish monger who won't give up on finding them their perfect fish that won't make them gag.
Or something like that. It sounded better in my head.
Today was my last day in my classroom. I'm a trifle sad, but I'm also looking forward to what the future holds for me, namely, the absence of an 84-mile-a-day commute.
I will miss the school, the students, and my wonderful colleagues, but it's time to move on.
It is well documented on my blog and in my classroom how much I love bacon. I have had students bring me bacon mints (which were gross and tasted like band-aids), chocolate covered bacon (delicious!) and a maple bacon cupcake (also delicious).
At the beginning of second hour yesterday, one of my students came up to me and said, "Mrs. Shaum, I brought you a piece of maple bacon saltwater taffy." I looked dubiously at the pink and brown piece of candy in its translucent wrapping. My students, in turn, looked at me expectantly. So I opened the wrapper, popped it in my mouth and ate it right in front of them. As I chewed, and chewed.... and chewed, thinking while I was chewing, the room was completely silent as they patiently waited for my assessment. I noted the maple taste right away but couldn't really note much bacon flavor. Instead, it tasted more like salty maple saltwater taffy, which was pretty darn good. As I declared to the class that I liked it, they all erupted in cheers.
Now I think I need to go online and find some maple bacon saltwater taffy so they can experience the joy too. :)
...is what I've been pestering everyone about on Twitter for the past weeks.
If you're a teacher, I hope you'll watch.
If you're a parent, I hope you'll watch.
If you're an administrator, I hope you'll watch.
If you're a politician, I hope you'll watch.
If you're a concerned citizen, I hope you'll watch.
Every year during poetry month I have my students create idea webs of all their thoughts about poetry, even the negative ones; especially the negative ones because by the end of the month, my hope is that their feelings will grow and evolve, just like Jack in Love That Dog by Sharon Creech, our current read aloud in sixth grade.
So here are some of the Jacks in my classroom:
It's such a shame when students hold back their true feelings. ;)
I'm the poetry monster!
This just made me laugh because I read this book quite a few months ago.
Someone has some strong feelings about red wheelbarrows.
I can't wait to see if I'm able to change the mind of all these students by the first of May. :)
Oh, and in case you've never seen it before, this is why many of my students, not just the one above, have some strong feelings about red wheelbarrows.
The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams So much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens.
In my quest to find joy in the little things, I bring to you this story:
Yesterday my students voted as a class for who they wanted to be Mr. Schu's road trip mascot. They loved watching all the book trailers and even asked if I could play a few of them a second time.
So my favorite moment from today was when we were on our way back to school from a field trip to the DIA and the whole bus started in on a rousing chorus of "My buttons, my buttons, my four groovy buttons" from the Pete the Cat song. Yes, middle schoolers can be pretty awesome on occasion. :)
My library card got a major workout today.
It must be poetry month.
After reading a blog post from Cindy Minnich this morning, I was reminded again why poetry month is my favorite time of the year to be an English teacher. I take it upon myself as a personal challenge to make all my students lovers (or at least appreciaters) of poetry before the first of May.
How do I do that?
By giving them time.
Time to read.
Time to savor.
Time to wiggle around inside the lines and stanzas of a poem.
I think the knee-jerk reaction of English teachers everywhere is when a poem is thrust in front of us, we must dissect every word, line, and stanza until all the "hidden" meanings have been exhausted.
But just like with books, we also need to give kids the opportunity to explore poetry for its own sake, not just to find meaning. There is merit in just savoring a beautiful turn of phrase without having to interpret some sage wisdom or enlightenment. Sometimes the enlightenment is just listening to the words fall off your lips.
And while I certainly do my fair share of poetry interpreting during this month, I also make sure that I give my students time to live inside the pages of that big pile of books and let them just enjoy a poem for its own sake. Instead of tying poems to a chair and beating them with a hose, I choose to celebrate the magic and impact poetry can have on students' lives if I give them time to do their own discovering.
As I'm sitting at home today enjoying some much-needed time off in the form of my school's spring break, I received a text message from my sixth grade teaching partner:
I am at school right now and I found my extra plastic sleeves!!!!! It is a joyous day!!
For teachers it really is the little things that matter. For Carrie it's being able to organize her teaching materials in binders with plastic sleeves.
That text message immediately made me smile, but it was soon accompanied by a lump in my throat as I realized I won't be getting texts like this from her for much longer. Once spring break is over, the school year will be in its home stretch, and it will be soon time for me to pack up my classroom, a place that has been my second home for the past seven years. And while having the chance to say a proper goodbye is good for closure, it's also bad because you know it's coming and you have time to think about all the things that you'll miss about that place.
Carrie has been such a wonderful person to work with for the past seven years. She has stayed sane when I have flipped out. She has helped me laugh when some situations would have probably called for crying. Oh, and most important of all, she has, on quite a few occasions, helped save me from my kryptonite, which is puking children (well, puking adults too, but there's far fewer of them to contend with in a school). I won't tell you what her kryptonite is, lest you use it against her. ;)
Carrie and me in my classroom before the start of the school year in 2010, our 1st year as 6th grade partners
In the end though, I'm glad I have this time to reflect on what an impact my school and the people in it have had on my career and my life in general. I have a feeling now that we're nearing the end, I'm going to start tearing up over the littlest things.
It's time for the memory-making and reminscing to begin.
Just before Easter break my students and I finished our third read aloud of the school year: Wonder by RJ Palacio. Each book we have read together as a class has had an impact on them, but I think Wonder has had the biggest impact.
After we finished the book, I made this poster to hang outside my classroom:
But then some of my students made this poster as well to hang outside the library:
But I have also made sure that Choose Kind is not just something that is shouted at students in the form of a giant poster. I also have left subtle reminders around the junior high hallway and in my classroom:
At the drinking fountain...
...On our book quote wall
...even our classroom light switch reminds students of the importance of being kind
Another way I've noticed the impact Wonder has had on my students is their amazing reflections they've written about, particularly the question I wrote as follows:
Many people who criticize Wonder say the ending is too perfect and that real life stories just don't end that happily. What do you think of how the story ended?
Naturally there were a few students who agreed with the critics, but on the whole, I received responses mostly like these:
And then there is my favorite response to the question, how do you personally relate to the characters and situations in Wonder?
So my only question to you is: if you haven't read this book yet, what are you waiting for?
As I've mentioned in previous posts, I'm currently taking a class that revolves around the idea of giving teachers a voice in a time when our professional judgment is being undermined and derided.
I had this vision of creating a video that includes teachers explaining why they press on despite educational policies that are having a deleterious effect on good teachers staying in the classroom. Many educational reformers think these policies are weeding the garden by causing bad teachers to leave, but they've been pulling up and destroying thriving crops just as much, if not more than the weeds.
It's taken me a while for the vision of my video to finally come to light, but after watching this teacher-created video that made the rounds on Facebook yesterday, I finally know what I want to do...
I've decided I'd like to take the suggestion of my friend Cindy Minnich and have teachers write a statement for why you stay in the classroom on a piece of paper, take a picture of it and send it to me. Something along the lines of this:
If you like this idea but don't want to be in the actual video yourself, you can still help me. Write your response in the comments or email it to me, and I will be the bearer of your message.
So here's what I need from you:
In clear, concise writing, either in a picture you email me or a message that you send me via comments or email, tell me why you stay in education.
If you do send a picture, I'd love for it to be taken in your classroom if possible, but if not, anything is better than nothing. :)
Tell me your name (if you prefer not to give your full name, at least give me your first name and last initial) and where you teach (just the city and state is fine).
You can email me your picture/response at: bethshaum at gmail dot com
Thanks in advance for any help you might be able to provide!
Ever since this school year began I have been in a perpetual state of exhaustion. It's no secret that this has been a difficult school year for me. But despite being tired and overwhelmed 95% of the time, I'm trying really hard to find those small victories, moments of joy that I might miss if I'm doing nothing but complaining all the time.
So here were some moments of joy from my school day yesterday:
Moment #1
6th graders turned in the book reviews they'd been working on all week and many of the students wanted to share them with the class. One student read her book review for one of my favorite books, The True Meaning of Smekday by Adam Rex. After she read her review, we proceeded to have a class discussion about how we (those who have read and loved the book) wish we could have our very own J.Lo (the alien, not the singer) because he is just so adorable. Then another student attempted to explain why J.Lo's best line in the whole book, ("Can I come into the out now?") actually makes sense as he proceeded to explain why it works grammatically.
Moment #2
Due to complicated circumstances that I prefer not to spend time explaining, I lost my prep period yesterday, which normally would cause me to grumble for the rest of the day, but by the end of the period, I ended up being happier for losing my prep than if I had taken it. The short version of why I lost my prep was because I had to watch one of the 8th grade classes because they weren't able to go to their special.
I have one 8th grade class for English, but I don't see the other 8th grade class at all. The class I don't see at all is the one that I ended up watching. They were asked to bring something to work on and use that period as a study hall. Since getting my 6th graders to work independently and quietly this year is like trying to herd cats, I was pleasantly surprised when the 8th graders came in, sat down and started working on their math or social studies or other work that they had due. They were talking, but they were productive and the noise level was not detrimental to others' learning. At one point in the class period I stood up, looked around and said, "Can I just tell you how much I appreciate what you're doing right now? Everyone is working and even though you're talking, it is productive noise. I haven't been able to experience that very much this year."
At one point during the period, one of the students jokingly picked up a novel as he was perusing the books in my classroom, started to read it and said, "I'm not reading this. It has too many words in it." So I told him I have quite the selection of picture books if those were more his speed (and a cacophony of 8th grade boys proceeded to say, "Oooh! Burn!" as seems to be the 8th grade comeback of choice these days). He spent the next fifteen minutes contentedly looking through picture books when I said to him and the rest of the class, "Do you guys want me to read you a picture book?" A few said yes and gathered around the floor, but many continued their math or social studies work and the productive noise didn't transform into a hush as I had hoped. Still, I pressed on, reading bothI Want My Hat Back and This Is Not My Hat by Jon Klassen to the five students on the floor who legitimately wanted me to read them a picture book. But I soon discovered that as I continued to read, the students who were doing their work reduced their noise level and many of them even halted their own work to find out what happened to the bear and the fish's hats.
One student's astute/entertaining observations from the two books:
Wait Mrs. Shaum! *Spoiler alert* Did the bear eat the squirrel too? We know he ate the rabbit, but what happened to the squirrel? (I never actually thought about that. Maybe he did eat the squirrel too!)
Hold on! Wait! How can the hat stay on the fish? Wouldn't it just float away? (Apparently a talking fish is enough to suspend belief but the physics of a fish wearing a hat in water isn't).
After I read the two Klassen books, the student who was "burned" by my suggestion that he read some picture books wanted to read one to the class. So I gave up my chair, parked myself on the floor with the other 8th graders and listened to him read The Five Chinese Brothers by Claire Hutchet Bishop. It was probably the most enjoyable class I've had all year.
Moment #3
In my homeroom yesterday, which is a class that has been a challenge to get through to this year, after finishing the last page of Wonder by RJ Palacio, one student asked, "Can
we give the book a standing ovation?" And they did.
If you've read the book, then you know why this is such a significant gesture. This was not just an appreciative response to a great book. It was also symbolic to the main character Auggie's journey throughout the story. Do I need to give them a comprehension test to see if they paid attention to the story? Nope. That moment right there told me all I need to know.
A couple weekends ago I attended the Muse concert at Joe Louis Arena in Detroit. Muse has always been one of my favorite bands, and my favorite song of theirs is "Uprising." As I stood there in the arena singing along, I couldn't help but think how apropos the words ring true for the educational climate of today. I feel like this song should be the rallying cry for teachers against all the media, politicians, and "reformers" who do nothing but bash us and try to make it all about the test scores.
There was one part of the second verse that I initially didn't fit the rallying cry the way the rest of the song did:
"We should never be afraid to die"
But given our nation's current obsession with arming teachers after the tragedy of Sandy Hook, those words actually have kind of a sad irony to them.
"Uprising" by Muse
Paranoia is in bloom, The PR transmissions will resume, They'll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down, And hope that we will never see the truth around (So come on)
Another promise, another scene, Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed, Green belts wrapped around our minds, And endless red tape to keep the truth confined (So come on) They will not force us, They will stop degrading us, They will not control us, We will be victorious (So come on) Interchanging mind control, Come let the revolution take its toll, If you could flick a switch and open your third eye, You'd see that We should never be afraid to die (So come on) Rise up and take the power back, It's time the fat cats had a heart attack, You know that their time's coming to an end, We have to unify and watch our flag ascend They will not force us, They will stop degrading us, They will not control us, We will be victorious
To celebrate March is Reading Month, I always have my students do different activities to remind them of some of their favorite books. I personally think every month should be reading month, but if we're going to set aside just one month, then let's focus on what we love about reading, right?
I'm having my 8th graders write letters to their favorite book characters and then they will put them on their lockers, but one of my students decided she had a score to settle with a particular character and instead chose to vent her frustration.
I was so entertained by her letter that I asked if it would be okay with her if I shared it here. She agreed.
BTW... if you haven't read this book, there are major spoilers in this letter so go read This is Not My Hat before reading her letter.
Dear Big Fish from This is Not My Hat, You are a mean-spirited and evil fish! The little fish did you a favor buddy. The hat you were wearing was way too small for you. How could you be so mean to Little Fish after you saw how cute he swam? He was adorable and you, I can't even talk to you right now... You ate Little Fish! Have you no soul man! All Little Fish wanted to do was to look snazzy with a hat (that fit properly). Yes, I'll admit it was wrong of Little Fish to steal it, but it was worse of you to eat him! Now Big Fish, you sit down and think about what you have done. Please don't get me started about that crab... - Zoe E.
Besides the emotional catharsis of reading Wonder together, a couple other reaffirming moments happened in the classroom this week:
Moment #1
Earlier this week I had a dream that one of my students was single-handedly responsible for getting one of my favorite authors/illustrators, Adam Rex, to visit our school. When I told her about this dream the next day, she had this look on her face like she was blown away that she could manage to not only infiltrate my dreams, but that she was also able to carry out such an amazing feat as to get a rock star author like Adam Rex to visit our school. Her reaction to this new knowledge was, "Really? I was in your dream? And I got Adam Rex to come here? I could do that. Do you want me to do that? I'm on it."
Then the next day, this same student approached me and said, "Guess what Mrs. Shaum? You were in MY dream last night. Adam Rex did come to our school and for some reason you were wearing a big curly rainbow wig. But then you got mad because he poured caramel sauce over himself since he didn't want to repeat himself by doing chocolate syrup again, but he got it all over the carpet in the classroom so you were not very happy."
So Adam Rex, I apologize if you get a random email from a 6th grader in
Michigan. My dream, accompanied by her own, apparently gave her a mission she feels the need to carry out.
Moment #2
Today the 6th grade Skyped with my friend Kellie who works for Walden Pond Press. When I finally met Kellie in person at NCTE in November, we spent a wonderful dinner together and the one thing that really struck me when she talked about WPP's books is how enthusiastic she was about the titles her imprint puts out for kids. I immediately had the idea that what better way to get kids to want to read WPP's books than to have someone directly from the publisher book talk them.
My instinct was not wrong. Kellie book talked four titles today and by the end of the day, this was the waiting list:
Notice that one of the books has a shorter waiting list than the others. Why is that? Because I was the one who book talked that one. So clearly Kellie is a rock star book talker, but also, I was able to reaffirm that it helps if teachers branch out and find other people and methods to get kids excited about books instead of doing the same thing over and over again. I mean, I've had The Fourth Stall in my classroom library all year, but it wasn't until Kellie book talked it that I had kids clamoring for it. When I talked to the kids after Kellie's Skype visit, a large number of them said, just as I did, that she was an amazing speaker and that she knew how to get kids excited about books. That was music to my ears.
*Title quote from the song "Beautiful Things" by Andain, which is also quoted in Wonder.
It's not everyday you get to share in the moment of the election of a new Pope with your students. But a little after 2:00 today, our principal came on the PA to announce that there was billowing white smoke coming from the Sistine Chapel and to pray for whoever had been chosen.
My prep period is the last hour of the day so I spent the entire time glued to NBC News's live feed. If the election of the last few Popes was any indication, it was likely we wouldn't see the new Pontiff for another hour. Sure enough, when 3:00 came and it was time to get my homeroom back for the last 15 minutes of the day, that's when things really started to set in motion. The new Pope was announced after the 3:10 bell for prayer, at which time students usually get their backpacks and coats as to be ready to leave at the 3:15 bell. Today, no one left the classroom after the 3:10 bell because they didn't want to miss anything. And we all stayed in the classroom and shared in this historic moment to see Pope Francis I, the first Pope from South America.
I told them they could leave to get their things, but they all stayed to share in this historic moment
I'm still amazed at the ways in which the book Wonder by RJ Palacio touches the lives of everyone who reads it.
I'm currently reading this book to both of my sixth grade literature classes, and while one class BEGS me to read everyday, the other class has remained stoic in their emotions about it. They listen attentively and answer questions with pinpoint accuracy during class discussions, but I have yet to really get any sort of emotional response from them.
Until today...
Today was the day I have been dreading because, you see, this was the day where we came to a pivotal part of the story that just happens to be really sad. Like "can't see to read through your tears" sad. And while I've read this book four times already, I still managed to let loose a torrent of tears while reading it in front of both sixth grade classes. My eager class who always begs me to read the book remained stoic in their emotions (or they were just really good at hiding them) while I sat there blubbering through the words on the page. But something magical happened in my usually stoic class: as I struggled to read my way through the sad part, I heard an accompaniment of sniffles and snorts to backup my own tears, along with a few students who got up out of their seats to grab tissues.
It was a moment I will always remember with this class because they allowed themselves to be vulnerable when most of them have spent a great deal of time building up their middle school armor of dispassion and indifference. The only time they generally show emotion is to declare something unjust, unfair, or just plain dumb. Who would've thought that a fictional fifth-grade boy named August Pullman could get them to open their heart and affix it directly to their sleeve.
For the past seven years I have had the privilege of working at the most wonderful school with an amazing staff and administration. I made many mistakes in my first few years of teaching, but I had people who believed in me and knew that I was learning and growing. It has been a place that made me the teacher I am and as a result, have always been happy to go into work everyday.
But with that happiness also comes some discontent. In order to have such a wonderful, supportive, autonomous work environment, I have spent two hours of my day, five days a week, in the car. I justified the long drive because I was working in an environment that allowed me to flourish as a teacher. I looked forward to walking through the door of my classroom everyday and learning with my students. But lately I've just been overwhelmed by it all. I think the gravitas of realizing how much of my life has been taken up by driving, in addition to all the extra work that's involved with being a teacher, has left me feeling that while I love my school, I can't continue to live like this.
So in January I tearfully met with my principal to tell her I would not be returning next year. It was a hard decision, but one I knew I had to make for my own health and sanity.
So what's next for me? I have no idea. And you know what? In a way, I'm okay with that. Part of me is excited at the prospect of the unknown, of what the future holds for me, but the other half is anxious and disconsolate because I don't know if that future will include being in the classroom.
You see, part of my discontent as of late has been not only how much of my life I've spent in the car driving to and from work everyday, but also how much life I am missing out on from the obligations of this job. It might be a job I love, but you can also resent and be tied down by what you love. That's how I've been feeling lately. And while spending time with my students in the classroom watching them learn and grow gives me great joy, it's really the minutia of this job that gets to me: the extra work that most people, unless they are a teacher or live with a teacher, have no idea about.
And it's the assumption most people have outside of the teaching profession that we only have an 8-3 work day that continues to frustrate and make me give Taylor Mali poetry recitations at dinner parties. Politicians and educational "leaders" who have never taught in a classroom are making decisions based on those assumptions and on behalf of students and teachers across this country. People like Michelle Rhee are pushing to evaluate a teacher's worth largely on test scores, and our secretary of education, Arne Duncan, wants us all to make education a "race" despite the fact that the very nature of a race is to leave people behind. I don't know any teacher who desires her classroom to be a race to anything. Most teachers I know want to guide each child by the hand and meet them where they're at to get them where they need to be. That's not a race Mr. Duncan, that involves patience and diligence and the understanding that all kids are different. I'm not seeing much room for differentiation in the educational policy that's being handed down these days. Any sort of dignity or professional image teachers used to have has been besmirched by politics and popular media who only portray teachers as incompetent and greedy. And while teaching at a private school has largely shielded me from most of this negativity, I can't help but wonder what's out there for me as I set out to begin my job search.
So I'm currently looking for answers. Answers for why, with all the negativity that's out there in politics and in the media, why should I stay in the classroom? Serendipitously, I'm taking a class this semester that is all about how to give teachers a voice in this time of educational "reform" and teacher bashing. The project I have chosen is on teacher retention. Because I want to know, despite all that we've been told we're doing wrong, who's choosing to stay and who's choosing to fight for teachers? Thankfully I have had a nurturing, supportive environment from which to learn these past seven years, and yet I still managed to burn out. If I'm questioning my future despite the fortuitous hand I was dealt, I can absolutely, positively see why teacher satisfaction is at an all-time low and those who haven't been as lucky as me are choosing to leave the profession.
And yet...
Despite all that seems to be going against teachers these days, there are still beacons of light in this surging storm, lightships to help guide the way home.
On Friday I drove to Grand Rapids to attend the Michigan Reading Association conference where I saw and connected with some of my favorite teachers: members of the Nerdy Book Club. It was there, as we talked, listened, and tweeted about all the things we are passionate about that I realized that this community, this tribe, is my ticket to staying in the classroom. You see, it's not just new teachers that need mentoring. Veteran teachers need support and communities to keep them going too. And these people are my bucket fillers. People like Donayln Miller, Brian Wyzlic, Paul Hankins, Katherine Sokolowski, Niki Barnes, Colby Sharp, Jillian Heise, Jessica Crawford, Sarah Andersen, Kristin McIlhagga, Erica Beaton... I could go on and on... These are my people, my tribe. They overflow my bucket with inspiration and hope. Because, when I click on a link to the Nerdy Book Club blog and read posts like this one from Brian Wyzlic, or listen to Paul Hankins read a poem about how books saved him that is so beautiful and so vulnerable that you must look away in order to wipe away your tears, it's really hard to want to walk away from it all.
So to my Nerdy Book Club tribe, I'm going to be enlisting your help in the next few weeks. I need your continued inspiration and sense of hope. I want to know why you stay. Inspire me. Because right now, I'm going to be needing the teacher equivalent of a Kid President Pep Talk:
If you're interested in helping me out, please let me know and I can email you the details of my project.
Things are still up in the air and unknown for me. But one thing will always remain constant: education and literacy will always be my vocation. In what capacity that vocation is manifested remains to be seen.
