Finally

Day 11 of 31 days of writing!

"I missed you!!!" Sparks of life returned to our exhausted eyes this morning as my students and I finally greeted each other in my classroom again.

Through yesterday, 10 of my last 11 school days were consumed with testing. 10 days trapped in silent, barren, unfamiliar rooms. 10 days of standardized directions, ridiculous procedures, and logistical puzzles: interpreters, testing locations, dictionaries, make-ups. 10 days of sub plans, adjusted schedules, and incomplete classes. (Most of my students missed 5-6 days of class at different times over the course of the 10 days. Some are still making up tests the rest of this week.) 10 days of disrupted routines. 10 days of heartbreak at the defeat, struggle, frustration, and stress in my students' solemn faces and hunched bodies.

10 days of just trudging through, fighting to remember what matters.

But finally, this morning, we were back together. Worn out, but together. Together in our cozy little community, closely knit with books, words, hope, trust, and love. Weary, but smiling.

Passing it on

Day 8 of 31 days of writing!

As I slowly shake myself out of a blissful fog, a muffled cacophony rises through the heating vents and up the stairs. Sometimes, it's clanging metal or heavy pounding. Other times, it might be the rhythmic purr of sawing or the soft, gentle cadence of sanding.

For a moment, I think I'm a kid again, nestled in my twin bed while my dad works on some project in the basement. But these sounds are even sweeter now, because they're accompanied by cheerful voices: one teaching, one learning.

"Ok, so it looks like we'll need 8 1x3's, minus whatever I have at home... write down '8-something 1x3's... and those will go over here, then we'll need some metal brackets... write 'metal brackets'..." My dad has an incredible mind for planning projects.

"Well, watching and asking questions is how you learn! I learned most of this from watching Grandpa... here, do you want to try the next one?" From staining and spackling to miter cuts and door installation, Daddy always shows Husband what to do the first time and then lets him try.

For a quirky engineer, my daddy is sure a good teacher!

The cute couple

Day 7 of 31 days of writing!

"Wow, you two have such great smiles! You must be really excited about this!" The customer service lady at Babies 'R Us beams at us.

Husband and I just grin sideways at each other, recalling the multitude of similar remarks we've received from waiters and employees.

Earlier this week, my mom met a lady who lives on our street. As they slowly figured out that she lives across the street from us, she told my mom, "Oh! That cute young couple! Nobody knows them well, but they're so cute!"

On our vacation last summer, countless hotel employees and fellow guests asked us if we were on our honeymoon... and were constantly astonished when we said we were actually about to celebrate our seventh anniversary.

Wherever we go, random strangers comment on our smiles, how happy we are, how cute we are, etc. Colleagues and acquaintances who don't often see us together always make the same observations.

Later, our conversation is always the same: Aren't other people happy when they're doing fun things like eating out or going on trips? Don't other married people still giggle together, look into each other's eyes, nuzzle each other's foreheads, and have special smiles just for each other? Then we laugh about the fact that I've always been famous for my huge, ever-present smile that crinkles up my eyes, but Husband never got comments on his smile until we started dating.

Apparently, our love is special enough that it stands out to everyone, and that's definitely something to smile about.

Las dos voces

Day 6 of 31 days of writing!

Fridays are for Spanish!

   

No quiero escribir.

Pero no quiero dejar el desafío tan temprano.

Pero estoy cansada.

...o mejor, estoy agotada.

Pero a veces es importante seguir adelante 

aunque sea difícil.

Pero no tengo nada que decir.

Pero así puedo entender y apoyar a mis estudiantes 

cuando les cuesta escribir.

Pero es viernes, y no quiero escribir en español. 

Es más difícil. 

Pero necesito practicar mi español, 

y necesito recordar cómo luchan mis estudiantes 

cuando escriben en inglés.

Pero... no quiero...

¡Uy, pero... vámonos! 

Habrán comentarios simpáticos,

la diversión de jugar con las palabras,

y el sentido de lograr algo importante.

¡Sólo una entrada cortita!

Vale... vámonos.

¡Ya!

Words with wings

Day 5 of 31 days of writing!

Emails from colleagues who work in other buildings.
Kind words in the hallway.
Likes, comments, shares, and favorites on social media... from "real-life" friends & colleagues, not just blogging friends.

"I've loved your blog posts this week!"
"So-and-so shared your blog post with me and I loved it!"
"Thank you for writing what I've been feeling about all this testing, but in a way that I never could!"

It's hard to believe that blogging used to be my secret hobby, something I was afraid to share aside from the already-courageous act of pushing that orange "publish" button. Did I really keep my whole first March Challenge a secret from everyone but my husband? Did I really wait nearly two years before starting to share my posts on Facebook, because I wasn't sure what my non-blogging friends would think?

Without living the life of a writer and braving those fears, I wouldn't have remembered how my students feel, and I wouldn't have discovered what I hope they take away from my class:

Real writing takes courage.
Sharing those words takes even more.
But the power in words that are crafted and shared from the heart gives them wings far beyond what you can even dream of.

The heart of what matters

Day 4 of 31 days of writing!

The invisible-but-weighty clouds of testing hang ominously over our heads. Weeks of time consumed with arranging and verifying accommodations, writing sub plans, and watching students either toil resolutely for too many hours or just give up after too few.

How can I be excited to pour out my energy when I don't get to go to class or help my students? I feel like I'm losing myself because I don't get to teach.

How are my students supposed to remember that learning is fun when their days are consumed with overly arduous tests? They're losing the readers and writers they've become.

How will they realize all the progress they've made when they are constantly confronted by overwhelming passages and questions far above their frustration level? They're losing the strength and confidence they've gained.

How can they remember that they are special, unique, valuable people when they are wading through tests that tell them there is one right answer, one acceptable score, one way to become successful? They're losing the sense that they matter.

Those are things that no one should lose. So I printed out Peter Reynolds' wonderful encouragement poster that accompanies his short film, The Testing Camera, shrunk it into small cards, and copied them on colored paper. I got out my PARCC and OGT testing rosters, sat quietly, and thought about each student, one by one. And as I wrote small notes about their kindness, their enthusiasm, their attitudes, and their growth, the testing clouds started to dissipate.

mini-posters on the front, personal notes on the back :-)

I hope my words will bring some reassurance, smiles, and flutters of hope tomorrow morning. I hope they might be held in some hearts the way I still hold the words of some of my teachers.

But no matter what they mean to my students, they've already made a difference. As I wrote, I remembered just how much I love those kids, and that brought me back to the heart of what matters. I am so lucky to have the opportunity to work with these amazing students every day!

Back to life

Day 3 of 31 days of writing!

"Well, you can try again in the summer, in the fall, and next spring, as many times as you need to..." When I walk back into the small room where our intrepid testers are taking a lunch break, they've been asking my colleague what will happen if they fail the tests. Their faces are tired and their bodies are tense. They will spend all day like this for a week... they don't need to spend lunch this way too!

"Aw, but come on, you've been thinking about those tests all day!" From somewhere in the depths of my own fatigue, I muster more enthusiasm than I feel. "This is your chance to relax for a half hour! Get your mind away from those tests! Let's talk about something fun!"

Exhausted half-smiles. Testing all day for days in a row is bad enough. Knowing that these tests, which don't even come close to showing all the progress you've made as you learn English and content at the same time, determine if you'll get to wear a cap and gown like everyone else is a burdensome weight. Being sequestered with your teachers for lunch, unable to speak your language or see your non-testing friends, with the rest of the test still looming over your head, is probably close to most students' definition of pure torture.

"So, what's the best food in the cafeteria?" My worn-out brain is not adept at coming up with encouraging conversation topics, but my sweet students slowly start to talk about their lunches. "Salads! They are healthy and good!" S. declares, and a few other students nod.

"Ooh, good for you!" I grin. "When I was your age, I would have never chosen a salad! I always wanted pop, nachos, candy..." Giggles turn into laughs and eyes begin to sparkle with glints of life again. Suddenly, the little room inside the guidance office is bubbling with conversation.

"How's the baby doing?"

"So how did you decide to be a teacher?"

"What's Idaho like?"

"I was BORN in 1998!"

"I came to Ohio because we had family here."

Finally, my students look like my students again, instead of vacant, downtrodden zombies. Sharing our stories has brought them back to life, and it's done the same for me... until I look over and see D. with his face buried in his hands. "D, are you ok?"

He sighs and lifts his head. "Yeah..." But his face is red and his eyelids are drooping.

"Come on, get up and wiggle around while you can! We have to be awake to go beat that test!" I start to stretch and squirm in silly ways.

A few giggles.

"Tomorrow we should have a lunchtime dance party to get your energy back!" More giggles.
"Yeah, we can do the Chicken Dance!"
"Those guidance counselors and secretaries will look in here and wonder what's happening!" By the time we head out the door to confront the tests again, the whole roomful of students, teachers, and aides is laughing. Together.

When impersonal, challenging mandates drain us, connections bring us back to life.