I've lost two and gained one now, so I'm at 21. My new student came on Thursday. I met her mom and dad when she came in, during calendar. Cute family. And she's black, but from the neighborhood, not our project, so I'm hoping she might help with my segregation problem... :-)
She sat quietly and shyly for the first few minutes, but warmed up quickly and loudly. She is excited to be in our class. "I'm so happy you're my teacher," she said, as she hugged her arms around my neck after calendar. On our way back from lunch, she started testing boundaries, doing twirls down the hallway. "We walk in the hallway, probably just how you walked in your old school," I told her. She stood straight, hands behind her back, eyes looking forward. I thought so. Then at a later point she said again, "I'm glad you're my teacher." I said, "I'm glad you've joined our class!" Then she continued, "I'm glad you're young. My last teacher was so old and she was this big!" And she reached her arms out on either side of her as far as they could go.
From the mouths of babes.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Racist 5 year olds
Back in December, I ran out of time to share this story. So I will do so now, on my snowy weekend!
My class is segregated. It's been very difficult for me for figure out how to get my girls, specifically, to interact with students of another race. My caucasian girls and Asian girls interact, as they all tend to "count" as white. I think the problem stems from two issues.
1. Many of the black girls knew each other before coming to school, as they all live in the same project. (I even have cousins in my class, but then again, I've never heard the word cousin used so loosely, as I have this year. That one pair is legitimate, though.) Since they all came knowing each other, the white girls then formed their own bond, which they then had trouble letting others into.
2. I have no middle or upperclass black kids in my class this year. I only have middle and upperclass white kids, and black kids from the project. I think having middle class black kids would have helped to bridge that gap or the difference that they feel is between them.
I've been thinking and working on the problem, without much success. It escalated at indoor recess in December. Here's what happened. I watched as my white girls formed a circle and ran around singing and laughing, and then the black girls did the same, in their own space. From across the room, I could see an Asian girl, who is typically a ring leader, being left out of the "white circle." I stood back and watched, to see how the girls would work it out. Then, they started to open the circle to let her in. As they did, a little black girl running around the room grabbed their hands to join in the fun. They froze, stared at her, and one of the little white girls yelled, "NO! You can't play with us. Only people with white skin can play, and your's is brown."
Well, I snapped. I ran over them and got down on my knees next to the girl who said it and we had a stern talk. A very stern one. "You do not EVER tell someone that they cannot play with you," (which I've said 1000 times to them already) "for any reason!"
I went and spoke with my principal about the issue after school because I'll tell you what, I've been really lost about how to proceed and teach these girls about the value of others and the equality of everyone. The realization we came to is that the clash is more about socioeconomic status than it is about race, I just happen to have the problem of having no middle class black kids in my class. We realized that what my white girls feel on the inside is that, "all of them are different. They speak different than me. They play rougher than me. They get in trouble more than me. They say words that I don't know/like/understand." The problem is, as a five-year-old, all they can really identify as the difference is, "they look different than me." Hence, "kids with brown skin can't play with us."
It's been a struggle, but helped open my eyes to what is important to me. Even if your kids grow up, as I think they should, being exposed to differences, and poverty, and outside their comfort zone, exposing them isn't enough. It really has to be part of their lives and the lives of their parents, to accept and love differences. Just going to a school where they see kids who are "different" is a good start, but it needs to be a bigger part of their lives. Parents need to be seen loving kids who are different, serving people who are different, giving to people who are different, and interacting with friends who are different. It's a hard bridge to make, though, because society doesn't really encourage bridging of that gap. I just bought a book on Friday, The Price of Privilege, and I'm excited to get reading. I want to be sure that when I have children, my kids don't think that they are any more deserving of material things (toys, books, good education, house, etc.) or nonmaterial things (love, comfort, safety) than kids who are "different." Actually, what I really hope, is that they don't notice that certain kids are "different" at all, because they'll be so exposed to so many differences, that everyone will be different, which will therefore be the norm.
I understand that it's a hard goal, but I think it's a good one, as B and I start to talk about our family and how we want to go about making one (biological, adoption, fostering - hopefully all!). It's an important goal to me, as I work to show love to each of my All Stars, no matter of their differences. Even when one comes in dirty and reaking of urine each day. And another cannot yet be understood by adults or peers because of poor language skills. And several who have sensory needs and are learning to express feelings through means other than grabbing/ pinching/ punching those around. And another who is so gifted that his behavior and social skills suffer. And another who gets fixated on thoughts for weeks at a time, wanting to learn and know everything about it. And another who throws tantrums and whose main way of communicating is by repeating nouns I've said, but who knows that after he gets in trouble, he wants to see a "happy face" from his teacher. I will love all these kids, blind to their race or socioeconomic status or academic achievement, and hope that I teach the kids in my classroom and one day my own children, to do the same.
My class is segregated. It's been very difficult for me for figure out how to get my girls, specifically, to interact with students of another race. My caucasian girls and Asian girls interact, as they all tend to "count" as white. I think the problem stems from two issues.
1. Many of the black girls knew each other before coming to school, as they all live in the same project. (I even have cousins in my class, but then again, I've never heard the word cousin used so loosely, as I have this year. That one pair is legitimate, though.) Since they all came knowing each other, the white girls then formed their own bond, which they then had trouble letting others into.
2. I have no middle or upperclass black kids in my class this year. I only have middle and upperclass white kids, and black kids from the project. I think having middle class black kids would have helped to bridge that gap or the difference that they feel is between them.
I've been thinking and working on the problem, without much success. It escalated at indoor recess in December. Here's what happened. I watched as my white girls formed a circle and ran around singing and laughing, and then the black girls did the same, in their own space. From across the room, I could see an Asian girl, who is typically a ring leader, being left out of the "white circle." I stood back and watched, to see how the girls would work it out. Then, they started to open the circle to let her in. As they did, a little black girl running around the room grabbed their hands to join in the fun. They froze, stared at her, and one of the little white girls yelled, "NO! You can't play with us. Only people with white skin can play, and your's is brown."
Well, I snapped. I ran over them and got down on my knees next to the girl who said it and we had a stern talk. A very stern one. "You do not EVER tell someone that they cannot play with you," (which I've said 1000 times to them already) "for any reason!"
I went and spoke with my principal about the issue after school because I'll tell you what, I've been really lost about how to proceed and teach these girls about the value of others and the equality of everyone. The realization we came to is that the clash is more about socioeconomic status than it is about race, I just happen to have the problem of having no middle class black kids in my class. We realized that what my white girls feel on the inside is that, "all of them are different. They speak different than me. They play rougher than me. They get in trouble more than me. They say words that I don't know/like/understand." The problem is, as a five-year-old, all they can really identify as the difference is, "they look different than me." Hence, "kids with brown skin can't play with us."
It's been a struggle, but helped open my eyes to what is important to me. Even if your kids grow up, as I think they should, being exposed to differences, and poverty, and outside their comfort zone, exposing them isn't enough. It really has to be part of their lives and the lives of their parents, to accept and love differences. Just going to a school where they see kids who are "different" is a good start, but it needs to be a bigger part of their lives. Parents need to be seen loving kids who are different, serving people who are different, giving to people who are different, and interacting with friends who are different. It's a hard bridge to make, though, because society doesn't really encourage bridging of that gap. I just bought a book on Friday, The Price of Privilege, and I'm excited to get reading. I want to be sure that when I have children, my kids don't think that they are any more deserving of material things (toys, books, good education, house, etc.) or nonmaterial things (love, comfort, safety) than kids who are "different." Actually, what I really hope, is that they don't notice that certain kids are "different" at all, because they'll be so exposed to so many differences, that everyone will be different, which will therefore be the norm.
I understand that it's a hard goal, but I think it's a good one, as B and I start to talk about our family and how we want to go about making one (biological, adoption, fostering - hopefully all!). It's an important goal to me, as I work to show love to each of my All Stars, no matter of their differences. Even when one comes in dirty and reaking of urine each day. And another cannot yet be understood by adults or peers because of poor language skills. And several who have sensory needs and are learning to express feelings through means other than grabbing/ pinching/ punching those around. And another who is so gifted that his behavior and social skills suffer. And another who gets fixated on thoughts for weeks at a time, wanting to learn and know everything about it. And another who throws tantrums and whose main way of communicating is by repeating nouns I've said, but who knows that after he gets in trouble, he wants to see a "happy face" from his teacher. I will love all these kids, blind to their race or socioeconomic status or academic achievement, and hope that I teach the kids in my classroom and one day my own children, to do the same.
NIKE (Long "i" silent "e")
My very bright little Asian boy came up to me on Tuesday to show me his new shoes. "Mrs. Flynn," he said, "Last night, we went to the Nike store." Now, when you read that sentence, recognize that he did not say, "Nike," pronouncing the "e" as we know we are supposed to. No, he knows his long middle vowel, silent e rule, and he followed it to a tee. "Nike?" I said, saying it correctly. "No, Nike," he said again, with a long i, silent e. He told me the entire story of going to the store, picking out the shoes, and wearing them for PE today, and each time he said, "Nike" (long i, silent e), I said it correctly, over whatever else he was saying. And he continued. Hilarious. He would not give in. He knows his rules.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Full Blown Austistic Tantrum
Today, my autistic student had the biggest tantrum I've ever heard or seen. And I've seen some good ones. After being placed in time out for refusing to follow my directions and continuing to yell, he was very angry at me. When I let him up, instead of going back to him center, he fell on the floor, starting screaming at the top of his lungs, in a high pitched squeal, and kicking anything he could reach. Then, he kicked his shin right into a bench in the library area, and screamed even more. My entire class stood in shock, covering their ears, staring. "Stop watching. Cover your ears if you need to, but go back to your centers and ignore him, please." I told them. They tried very hard to follow that direction. Eventually, after having a good scream, and pointing at me and yelling in what appeared to be gibberish, he found a spot to hide for a few minutes, yelled at anyone who came near, then calmed down enough to go back and stand, arms folded across his chest and still "cry-breathing" (as I like to refer to deep, short breaths you get after a good cry) at his center, watching the other students play.
"Mad face," he said later, as he pointed at my teacher look. "Yes," I said. "No more yelling."
I love my job. :-)
"Mad face," he said later, as he pointed at my teacher look. "Yes," I said. "No more yelling."
I love my job. :-)
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Sweet CeCe's Date
So yesterday, I had a date with my buddy from last year. Here's a quick blurb for those of you who don't know him. He came to me in the beginning of kindergarten not knowing a single letter of his name. His behavior can be characterized as extremely defiant. He was aggressive, hateful, and rude, had no language skills (could hardly speak; his older siblings are selective mutes), and let me tell you, I fell in love. He was my baby. He grew so much in my classroom, and I loved the challenges he presented me with, daily. And sometimes I hated him just as much, because he knew how to try my patience and get under my skin, and I learned a lot about teaching and about myself, learning how to not react. Whoo. It was hard. I considered having him in my classroom again this year, and decided I better not, because we learned so much from each other, and love each other, and I didn't want to ruin that with another year. And he is thriving this year. It's so fantastic. I am so thrilled.
So, anyway, when we see each other this year, he smiles (this smile that can melt your heart), and we talk, and he is so sweet. So I asked his mom last week if I could take him for hot chocolate or something after school one day, so that we could catch up and have some time together. She was excited, but he was PUMPED. It's all he would talk about for the last week. "Mrs. Flynn, I never had hot chocolate before. Where do we get it? Is is hot?" etc. etc. etc. Then he was sick on Friday, which was supposed to be our day. So we replanned for Tuesday.
Tuesday, at recess, he was still super excited. "Mrs. Flynn! Come here!" he said as his class lined up. "My mom said we could just go right now." he told me. I somehow convinced him that we were going to wait until after school.
Well, after school came, and he was so freaked out that it was finally there, and we were going to hang out together outside of school, that he refused to speak to me or come near me. Hilarious. He finally warmed up to me, after about 45 minutes. By the time his mom got there, he was starting to talk to me again. (Oh, and we ended up getting Fro-Yo, since the temperature went up significantly this week.)
Today, he brought me flowers. Then, when he saw me at dismissal, he said for the first time this year, "Mrs. Flynn, I love you."
So, anyway, when we see each other this year, he smiles (this smile that can melt your heart), and we talk, and he is so sweet. So I asked his mom last week if I could take him for hot chocolate or something after school one day, so that we could catch up and have some time together. She was excited, but he was PUMPED. It's all he would talk about for the last week. "Mrs. Flynn, I never had hot chocolate before. Where do we get it? Is is hot?" etc. etc. etc. Then he was sick on Friday, which was supposed to be our day. So we replanned for Tuesday.
Tuesday, at recess, he was still super excited. "Mrs. Flynn! Come here!" he said as his class lined up. "My mom said we could just go right now." he told me. I somehow convinced him that we were going to wait until after school.
Well, after school came, and he was so freaked out that it was finally there, and we were going to hang out together outside of school, that he refused to speak to me or come near me. Hilarious. He finally warmed up to me, after about 45 minutes. By the time his mom got there, he was starting to talk to me again. (Oh, and we ended up getting Fro-Yo, since the temperature went up significantly this week.)
Today, he brought me flowers. Then, when he saw me at dismissal, he said for the first time this year, "Mrs. Flynn, I love you."
Friday, January 15, 2010
First Full Week Back
Okay, this was the longest week that has ever been. Last week, we had two snow days, and it was our first week back. In December, we only had 2 full weeks, and they were full of holiday activities and special events, so they all flew by. So it really seems like I haven't had a full week of uninterrupted teaching since November. So this week was looooooong. It's felt like Thursday since Monday. And I'm not exaggerating. But thank G-dawg, we made it to Friday, and I am sitting on my couch. Whewww.
My kids were so sweet and I was so excited to be back and see them. I loved the break, but I did miss their sweet faces and their love. It's so cool to see how they've progressed over the break. So many of them came back seeming to be writing and reading even better, which is fantastic. Of course there are also the ones that came back digressed, but to keep moving forward, I have to focus on the positive.
I've started small leveled groups that I meet with daily. I have six groups of 2 to 4 kids, depending on reading level, then I have one kid reading way above everyone else, who doesn't really fit in any of the groups. So seven different lessons for leveled work each day. One of my brighter kids said to his mom, "Mrs. Flynn has grouped us according to our talents." She said, "Oh. I see. How do you know?" He wasn't able to explain how he knew that, he could just tell. "And are you in a talented group?" she asked him. "I don't know." he replied. Hilarious. Smart little cookies.
I'm also trying to start a new program in my classroom over the next couple of weeks. My lowest kids, who clearly just don't get any attention and who don't get read to, are going to be paired with "parent reading buddies" who come once a week for a 1/2 hour, and meet with the same child each time, and just read with them, to give them some positive adult attention and expose them to good English and fluent reading. I'm excited about the opportunity it will give both the parents and the kids.
Anyway, those were the highlights of week one. Should continue to be interesting and exciting, as we get into these critical kindergarten weeks. In the next couple months, several of the kids will be writing and reading pretty fluently, and hopefully some of my struggling ones will start to pick up on some crucial skills to avoid retention.....only time will tell.
My kids were so sweet and I was so excited to be back and see them. I loved the break, but I did miss their sweet faces and their love. It's so cool to see how they've progressed over the break. So many of them came back seeming to be writing and reading even better, which is fantastic. Of course there are also the ones that came back digressed, but to keep moving forward, I have to focus on the positive.
I've started small leveled groups that I meet with daily. I have six groups of 2 to 4 kids, depending on reading level, then I have one kid reading way above everyone else, who doesn't really fit in any of the groups. So seven different lessons for leveled work each day. One of my brighter kids said to his mom, "Mrs. Flynn has grouped us according to our talents." She said, "Oh. I see. How do you know?" He wasn't able to explain how he knew that, he could just tell. "And are you in a talented group?" she asked him. "I don't know." he replied. Hilarious. Smart little cookies.
I'm also trying to start a new program in my classroom over the next couple of weeks. My lowest kids, who clearly just don't get any attention and who don't get read to, are going to be paired with "parent reading buddies" who come once a week for a 1/2 hour, and meet with the same child each time, and just read with them, to give them some positive adult attention and expose them to good English and fluent reading. I'm excited about the opportunity it will give both the parents and the kids.
Anyway, those were the highlights of week one. Should continue to be interesting and exciting, as we get into these critical kindergarten weeks. In the next couple months, several of the kids will be writing and reading pretty fluently, and hopefully some of my struggling ones will start to pick up on some crucial skills to avoid retention.....only time will tell.
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