Today I had a little epiphany. I was again thinking about my past teachers. I decided that I can put the positive teachers into two groups. Two groups that may have an overlapping subset.
Group 1: Teachers I liked. I liked them. The person. I liked some facet of their personality. Maybe they liked me. Maybe they were funny. Maybe they were pretty and nice. Maybe they played fun games in the classroom. I liked seeing them everyday. Example: Miss Hoffman, 5th grade. Loved her, honestly do not have one single memory of learning anything in her class. Do not remember her reading to us, playing a game in her class, doing any homework for her. Nothing academic at all.
Group 2: Teachers who taught me something. There are teachers that I might or might not really remember their personality but I remember what I learned in their classroom. I can remember specific projects, specific games, specific homework or even specific lectures in their classroom. Example: Mrs. Houghton, 5th grade state history. I still remember learning that tobacco was the main export of Maryland.
Subset: Mr. Davids who I loved because he loved us and was funny and interesting and treated us like adults and who taught me about archeology and the voyage of the Kon Tiki by Thor. However, I don't really know how I got grades in his class. After thinking about this teacher I think he really belongs in Group 1.
So, here I am, wondering what kind of teacher I want to be. Or maybe what kind of teacher I am. I guess I will just be glad if I get put in the positive group of teachers. There is another group that I didn't even bother bringing up.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Glenwood Utah by the numbers
1863: Year Glenwood was established
84730: Current zip code
437: Population of town
1: Irrigation pond that we like to call the swimming hole. Friday likes to call it that as well. He was in the water before I even threw a stick out for him to fetch. I have written about this swimming hole before. It is home to a beach and a diving board. Ryan has ripped open her foot on a old raft with rusty nails on it. We have spent many afternoons there enjoying ourselves by ourselves. This weekend we weren't quite so lucky. There were many people out and about. Ryan drove her fourwheeler half way around the pond and abandoned it at the impossibly steep part. Then when we were ready to leave she asked me to get it over the driving sideways part of the mountain. Of course I didn't want her to tip over and fall in the lake so I let her take the kids and the dog down to my fourwheeler. I then, proceeded to walk over to her fourwheeler not having a clue what I would do. I knew that the fourwheeler could drive sideways on the 90 degree angle hill. I had even done it before. But I had an audience and I let the job grow to gigantic proportions in my mind. I couldn't do it. I sat there contemplating until one of my audience members started screaming from across the pond. "Hey! That lady can't drive her fourwheeler on the steep part. Somebody needs to go over and help her! Hey! Hey! Hey! Go help that lady." My audience consisted of mostly males, a wide demographical range of ages from 16 to 40 all who had their one hand wrapped around a Bud Lite can the other driving their fourwheeler or wielding a fishing pole. And yes, I deeply appreciated that somebody did come and drive my fourwheeler over the treacherous bit of land. I appreciated it even more when he did not drive my fourwheeler into the pond while he was backing it up. I gave a little curtsy to my audience before I got back on my fourwheeler and fled the scene.
1: Tree swing. My oh my. The tree swing is something that my kids and I love. It is such simple entertainment. We had to fight off 200 head of sheep for a little swing action this weekend but it was worth it. This is actually a little piece of land that is connected to where the old dance hall used to stand. I would seriously love to own this land. I love the view. The trees. The stream. The history. The old artifacts that still lay on the hill telling the story of loud and raucous Friday nights. I hope there is even some old prostitute ghost lady that would take up haunting my house if I do ever build a house there.
84730: Current zip code
437: Population of town
1: Irrigation pond that we like to call the swimming hole. Friday likes to call it that as well. He was in the water before I even threw a stick out for him to fetch. I have written about this swimming hole before. It is home to a beach and a diving board. Ryan has ripped open her foot on a old raft with rusty nails on it. We have spent many afternoons there enjoying ourselves by ourselves. This weekend we weren't quite so lucky. There were many people out and about. Ryan drove her fourwheeler half way around the pond and abandoned it at the impossibly steep part. Then when we were ready to leave she asked me to get it over the driving sideways part of the mountain. Of course I didn't want her to tip over and fall in the lake so I let her take the kids and the dog down to my fourwheeler. I then, proceeded to walk over to her fourwheeler not having a clue what I would do. I knew that the fourwheeler could drive sideways on the 90 degree angle hill. I had even done it before. But I had an audience and I let the job grow to gigantic proportions in my mind. I couldn't do it. I sat there contemplating until one of my audience members started screaming from across the pond. "Hey! That lady can't drive her fourwheeler on the steep part. Somebody needs to go over and help her! Hey! Hey! Hey! Go help that lady." My audience consisted of mostly males, a wide demographical range of ages from 16 to 40 all who had their one hand wrapped around a Bud Lite can the other driving their fourwheeler or wielding a fishing pole. And yes, I deeply appreciated that somebody did come and drive my fourwheeler over the treacherous bit of land. I appreciated it even more when he did not drive my fourwheeler into the pond while he was backing it up. I gave a little curtsy to my audience before I got back on my fourwheeler and fled the scene.
1: Tree swing. My oh my. The tree swing is something that my kids and I love. It is such simple entertainment. We had to fight off 200 head of sheep for a little swing action this weekend but it was worth it. This is actually a little piece of land that is connected to where the old dance hall used to stand. I would seriously love to own this land. I love the view. The trees. The stream. The history. The old artifacts that still lay on the hill telling the story of loud and raucous Friday nights. I hope there is even some old prostitute ghost lady that would take up haunting my house if I do ever build a house there.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Sixth grade
So 6th grade.
I remember a lot about my own sixth grade experience.
I had 4 teacher team but was only taught by 3 of them. Mr. Bucci was my homeroom teacher. He also taught me about Galileo and Copernicus. I remember that my Dad and I made a large universe project consisting of a piece of plywood and Christmas lights. Mr. Bucci read us "My Side of the Mountain." He also played the guitar and taught me my first Beatles song. He played a mean game of dodgeball. I loved dodgeball.
Mr. Smith was my language arts teacher. Rich Matheny poked a pencil into my hand and broke the lead off under my skin. Mr. Smith was so worried about lead poisoning that he actually picked me up and carried me all the way downstairs to the nurses office. It was one of the more embarrassing moments of the year. Apparently it was a graphite pencil because there was no sickeningly red line coursing up toward my heart from the wound. I still have a bit of graphite under my skin to this day to mark the incident.
Mr. Turner was my science teacher. He taught me all about batteries and circuits with wires and light bulbs. Good times. He also could not get me to stop talking to Marc Zolar so I ended up sitting with my face to the wall behind his desk away from every single other person. Another rather embarrassing predicament of the year.
Mostly I remember 6th grade camp. For a whole week we left our homes and went to a camp to learn orienteering, ecosystems, herbology and other outdoorsy fun things. There was definitely a zip line and after dinner every night there was Capture the Flag. Just ecstasy for this sixth grader. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It was the year and more specifically the week at camp when I solidified a relationship that was to be intrinsic to my life until the end of college. Becky Hawes and I became good friends at camp. Wow! 16 girls in the cabin and I only remember her.
I broke Chris Graf's finger at recess one day. He was the cutest blonde boy I had ever met. I think the relationship went downhill from there. I can't honestly remember.
I liked Chris but I loved Rich Matheny. You know that boy that jammed the lead in my finger? He was a smart skinny little thing who kept hold of my heart for a long time after sixth grade. I talked to him on the phone for hours. And sometime in that summer my 4th grade sister and I snuck out of the house and met him in the neighborhood during the middle of the night. Then we just sat and talked more in the hot humid air that was always part of a Maryland summer night. I think he was always interested but he just wasn't a committer. Well, neither was I. There was always more than one love interest.
I feathered my hair and spent so much time in front of a mirror trying to curl both sides identically. Impossible.
With all that said, how do I facilitate this year to make it as memorable for my students as it was for me?
I remember a lot about my own sixth grade experience.
I had 4 teacher team but was only taught by 3 of them. Mr. Bucci was my homeroom teacher. He also taught me about Galileo and Copernicus. I remember that my Dad and I made a large universe project consisting of a piece of plywood and Christmas lights. Mr. Bucci read us "My Side of the Mountain." He also played the guitar and taught me my first Beatles song. He played a mean game of dodgeball. I loved dodgeball.
Mr. Smith was my language arts teacher. Rich Matheny poked a pencil into my hand and broke the lead off under my skin. Mr. Smith was so worried about lead poisoning that he actually picked me up and carried me all the way downstairs to the nurses office. It was one of the more embarrassing moments of the year. Apparently it was a graphite pencil because there was no sickeningly red line coursing up toward my heart from the wound. I still have a bit of graphite under my skin to this day to mark the incident.
Mr. Turner was my science teacher. He taught me all about batteries and circuits with wires and light bulbs. Good times. He also could not get me to stop talking to Marc Zolar so I ended up sitting with my face to the wall behind his desk away from every single other person. Another rather embarrassing predicament of the year.
Mostly I remember 6th grade camp. For a whole week we left our homes and went to a camp to learn orienteering, ecosystems, herbology and other outdoorsy fun things. There was definitely a zip line and after dinner every night there was Capture the Flag. Just ecstasy for this sixth grader. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It was the year and more specifically the week at camp when I solidified a relationship that was to be intrinsic to my life until the end of college. Becky Hawes and I became good friends at camp. Wow! 16 girls in the cabin and I only remember her.
I broke Chris Graf's finger at recess one day. He was the cutest blonde boy I had ever met. I think the relationship went downhill from there. I can't honestly remember.
I liked Chris but I loved Rich Matheny. You know that boy that jammed the lead in my finger? He was a smart skinny little thing who kept hold of my heart for a long time after sixth grade. I talked to him on the phone for hours. And sometime in that summer my 4th grade sister and I snuck out of the house and met him in the neighborhood during the middle of the night. Then we just sat and talked more in the hot humid air that was always part of a Maryland summer night. I think he was always interested but he just wasn't a committer. Well, neither was I. There was always more than one love interest.
I feathered my hair and spent so much time in front of a mirror trying to curl both sides identically. Impossible.
With all that said, how do I facilitate this year to make it as memorable for my students as it was for me?
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The bond between humans and chick is truly amazing
Ryan has gotten ridden all of her human boyfriends and is simply french kissing with her Pipsqueak.
Honestly, I think Cooper and his chick are starting to look a little bit alike. Don't you think?
In this picture Chase is showing his nurturing side allowing all the chicks to hide out in his shorts in the hot sun. What a demonstration of love.
P. S. All six of the above while not being gung ho ape crazy for David Cook are definately not for David Archuleta. Ugh.
We got in the carpool today and one of the 7th graders girls got in the car and informed us that she had stayed up until midnight calling in votes for David A. 784 times.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
A haughty hottie
Ah yes. We have hit the nail right on the head with our nickname of Suicide Watch for my little chickie. She has been jumping up on the waterer and flying to the top of the box and perching on the edge. Bart has seen the little acrobat twice but I finally caught the act today.
As you can see, their accommodations are not 5 star at the moment. They have a barn/hen coop awaiting them outside in the back yard but it is still too cold for them at night. Hence, the box in the dining room. It is fun to have them inside with us as well because we are always watching them. But Suicide Watch may have just ended all this good fun. They may be out in the barn tonight. And maybe then she won't be such a haughty hottie.
As you can see, their accommodations are not 5 star at the moment. They have a barn/hen coop awaiting them outside in the back yard but it is still too cold for them at night. Hence, the box in the dining room. It is fun to have them inside with us as well because we are always watching them. But Suicide Watch may have just ended all this good fun. They may be out in the barn tonight. And maybe then she won't be such a haughty hottie.
Monday, May 19, 2008
What I think about while the chickens are pecking
I find myself really feeling uncomfortable posting without the visual aid of a picture. It might be the kindergarten influence that I live under. Everything must have a visual aid. In fact, I have been to inservice meetings that have explicitly told me I have to have engaging fun visual aids in order to be a successful teacher.
I believe all that.
However, when American children/teens are asked what they need to be successful in school they pick the answer "intelligence." Meaning that they believe you either are endowed with the ability to be successful or you are simply not. When Japanese children/teens are asked the same question, they pick the answer "hard work." Apparently Japanese children are still taught that they are responsible for their own success and their own path in life.
Although I have every desire to be a good teacher and I even harbor a deep secret need to be a beloved teacher I recognize that a lot of our children need to pull their heads out and actually invest in their own education. Whether or not I am engaging. Or fun.
We are doing end of year testing in kindergarten and I have been surprised at the progress that many of my students have made. I am pleased as punch that I had more students at grade level and above than the other two kindergarten teachers. Not because that made me a better teacher but because it made me think I held my own during my first year. Whew!
I did ok. Or did I? Why then would my principal come and ask me to teach 6th grade next year?
I believe all that.
However, when American children/teens are asked what they need to be successful in school they pick the answer "intelligence." Meaning that they believe you either are endowed with the ability to be successful or you are simply not. When Japanese children/teens are asked the same question, they pick the answer "hard work." Apparently Japanese children are still taught that they are responsible for their own success and their own path in life.
Although I have every desire to be a good teacher and I even harbor a deep secret need to be a beloved teacher I recognize that a lot of our children need to pull their heads out and actually invest in their own education. Whether or not I am engaging. Or fun.
We are doing end of year testing in kindergarten and I have been surprised at the progress that many of my students have made. I am pleased as punch that I had more students at grade level and above than the other two kindergarten teachers. Not because that made me a better teacher but because it made me think I held my own during my first year. Whew!
I did ok. Or did I? Why then would my principal come and ask me to teach 6th grade next year?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Meet the girls
This is Bart's chicken who we have named Big Red. It is a little hard to tell but she is really red and she is one of the larger girls.
Meet my chick named Matilda. She is the one who we have had to put on suicide watch so Owen Wilson may be an appropriate nickname for her. She is always trying to get out of the box and if you are holding her she is trying her darnedest to get away and fall to her death. She has really pretty detail in her wings.
This is Pipsqueak. She is the smallest of the bunch. Of course, Ryan picked the most different chicken. Pipsqueak is bred to be small in stature as well as have the smallest eggs ever. Pipsqueak is also from a straight run which means that we don't know whether she is a girl or boy yet. Please, please, please let her be a girl!
Next we have Chase's chicken Checker. What awesome alliteration! He is named for a move in Lacrosse, the sport that Chase is immersed in day and night at the moment. When we put Checker out in the back yard she went straight to the Lacrosse net. Kidding. The girls have not made it out of the their self imposed 4 x 4 area out there yet. And they sleep like the dead when they get put back in their box.
This ugly chick is Sarah's who is Ryan's friend and goes most everywhere with our family. She named it Llama because it will end up having a mohawk and you can already see that the hair is different everywhere than the other chicks. Llama has hair down her feet. We might end up getting her lazer treatments because poop really sticks to it and she looks a mess. Always.
Finally let me introduce Cooper's Supersize. Cooper came up with this name all by himself and it is very fitting. Supersize is a good size bird. She likes to walk around the box and if there is a chick in her way she simply walks right over it.
I know that Disney has really humanized these birds and they really have a pea sized brain. I think about that while I wile away time watching them peck and scratch but I like a girl who is focused on just a few things and does a really good job at them. And believe me these chicks have eating and pooping down.
Besides their peeping and cheeping and beeping is very pleasant to be around.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Watching Hitch right now.
Dancing with Kevin James is one of my life's goals. And it could be in the top five.
Just had one of the best mother's day ever.
And yet Mondays can just turn things to crap so fast. Amazing.
On Saturday we all got into the car and drove straight to IFA. Intermountain Farmers Association. We had been talking about this for a littlish longish while now. And Bart decided that it would be a good mother's day present. I had read the books and I thought that we could try it.
So we all looked into the cages and picked out our little chicken soulmate. We have 6 little guests at our house. They have a barn waiting for them when they get old enough but right now they are occupying the cardboard box in the kitchen.
And the barely audible peeps are so so cute.
We had a good barbeque dinner with my mother and father on Saturday night. We have had such awful weather that it is just marvelous to be outside for a time. It was a little cold but worth it. I do love my parents. They were goodly parents. They are goodly grandparents. I appreciate them so much.
Sunday morning went to church. Feeling a little nervous about leaving Friday home as the chick babysitter but he did well. Came home and had to go back to pick up Ryan. When I came back from that Bart said "Change your clothes. We got a Jazz game to go to!"
OH YES BABY!! WE WON!
Zac Effron and Vanessa Hutchins were there with us. Hey! The kindergarteners were impressed with that part.
Dancing with Kevin James is one of my life's goals. And it could be in the top five.
Just had one of the best mother's day ever.
And yet Mondays can just turn things to crap so fast. Amazing.
On Saturday we all got into the car and drove straight to IFA. Intermountain Farmers Association. We had been talking about this for a littlish longish while now. And Bart decided that it would be a good mother's day present. I had read the books and I thought that we could try it.
So we all looked into the cages and picked out our little chicken soulmate. We have 6 little guests at our house. They have a barn waiting for them when they get old enough but right now they are occupying the cardboard box in the kitchen.
And the barely audible peeps are so so cute.
We had a good barbeque dinner with my mother and father on Saturday night. We have had such awful weather that it is just marvelous to be outside for a time. It was a little cold but worth it. I do love my parents. They were goodly parents. They are goodly grandparents. I appreciate them so much.
Sunday morning went to church. Feeling a little nervous about leaving Friday home as the chick babysitter but he did well. Came home and had to go back to pick up Ryan. When I came back from that Bart said "Change your clothes. We got a Jazz game to go to!"
OH YES BABY!! WE WON!
Zac Effron and Vanessa Hutchins were there with us. Hey! The kindergarteners were impressed with that part.
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