Good Job

If you never thought you'd need Kleenex after hearing someone tell you "Good job," you'd be wrong.

 

Kindergarten Teachers: Do You Need to Switch Grades?

I believe in self-reflection and self-evaluation.  Eighteen years of teaching kindergarten for me marks eighteen years of learning, practicing, making mistakes, tweaking, revamping, sharing, guiding, and learning some more.  Shifts and changes have been thrown into the mix as I've worked in different states and as I've fought for balance when what is mandated isn't complimentary to what is developmentally appropriate for my students.  I've blogged for over seven years, followed other edu-bloggers, and reaped the benefits from having a perspective that stretches far past the walls of the building in which I teach.  There are a lot of teacher bloggers out there who discuss education policy, politics, classroom humor and inspiration, lesson plans, ideas, and many who hawk their teacher-created materials.  My favorite Sunday-reads are more obscure teacher bloggers, the ones who post questions, ideas, strategies, woes, and successes.  The ones who share their personal opinions about their jobs.  The ones who are blunt and occasionally raw, the ones who keep the fluff and cute fonts off of the monitor, the slam poets of our profession.

As for my students, many in my first group of Super Stars have married, started families, and have been gainfully employed for years now (I took two years off from teaching, so don't worry about them being too young).  Several of them have become friends with their former kindergarten teacher.  Two have asked me kindergarten-specific questions as they anticipate the start of their childrens public school adventure.  One shared a story of how she recently overheard teachers talking at a restaurant, venting their frustrations about their students.

Both friends were discussing progress monitoring assessments that their kindergartners recently completed, and both were stressed because a fantastical jump in measurable growth hadn't been recorded in the scores.  Both teachers appeared new to service, and as my former student continued to eavesdrop, she noted that neither of the teachers ever once cited test bias, lack of technology tool use schema, student indifference, an uncomfortable and/or confusing testing environment, or the inappropriateness of the activity itself as reasons for why the scores and subsequent proposed "instructional tips"  might be inaccurate, skewed, or frankly irrelevant when it came to reflecting upon their responsibility as teachers: providing a safe, student-paced, age-and-skill appropriate, and highly experiential learning environment for a very diverse group of young children.

Instead, the teachers put all of the blame on their students, and I cringed as I listened to the examples:

___________ drives me nuts!  Every time we test, he acts like he doesn't care.

I haven't been able to start our first grade sight word list!  We're halfway through the year and my kids STILL haven't mastered the pre-primer list!

The crazy weather doesn't help, all my students want to do is play! I can't keep them on track.  

My kids need to ace these assessments by the end of the year.  I don't need to be screwed over on my teacher evaluation because of them.

*****

One might think that eighteen years of actual in-classroom teaching experience and the temperament that comes from being a forty-four year old mother of three would guarantee a calm response from me.

But no.

My Star asked me what I thought.  Possibly using a raised voice, I told her I thought the two teachers she overheard needed to 1) take classes on early childhood development, 2) study the standards/Common Core/curricular requirements, 3) find an experienced mentor who will play devil's advocate, 4) develop a keen eye, observing and reflecting upon how their students behave in the learning environment provided to them, 5) learn about poverty, cultural and social issues, 6) turn a critical eye inward, 7) evaluate what they think their own responsibilities should truly be, and 8) if necessary, switch grades.

Admission:  I definitely used a raised voice, and I had to pause at the end to catch my breath.

In my opinion:

Kindergarten teachers who can't stand the fact that their students aren't completing first grade work... need to switch grades.

Kindergarten teachers who find themselves greatly annoyed by immature behavior, need to switch grades.

Kindergarten teachers who don't understand that play IS how young children best learn and develop necessary skills, need to switch grades. 

Kindergarten teachers who believe their students are out to "screw" their teacher's evaluation, need to switch grades.

Kindergarten teachers who believe today's hype that says in order to help Little Janie or Jeffery become a neurosurgeon after college, we must put scalpels in their tiny fists prior to age four, need... to... switch... grades.  

That's right, I went all Jeff Foxworthy over those two kindergarten teachers and the others that I know concur with them.  But I get it.  I was once a first-year teacher, a third-year teacher, a fifth-year teacher, a seventh-year teacher.  I remember listening politely during staff meetings as more experienced colleagues talked circles around me and over my head.  I too, remember when teaching kindergartners became so natural for me that the inevitable continuation of the rinse/repeat cycle of education-related acronyms and fads became more entertaining (some frightening) than inspiring.  I can recall the exact moment during a job interview when I knew that it was important for me to tell my potential employers that they did not want me in a sixth grade classroom, a fourth grade classroom, or a second grade classroom.  I was advocating for not only kindergarten students, but the children I would not have been a good match for, even though my honesty was not a surefire way to guarantee me a paycheck.

With experience and commitment, teachers often find their niche, be it a subject, grade level, or community.  For those newbie and not-so-newbie kindergarten teachers who find yourselves frustrated and angry, let me lay this nugget of truth on you:

It's not the four, five, or six year olds' fault. 

Let that sink in for a moment.

It's not the four, five, or six year olds' fault.

Your lack of experience (or overstayed welcome in the wrong grade) isn't at fault either.  But I caution you to guard against allowing your frustrations to inspire you to think up consequences that you might purposely or inadvertently inflict upon young children.  They are not mutineers, and if you choose to not make your own professional plan for self-improvement, then it behooves you to step aside, find another grade (or profession), and let those of us who know, respect, understand, and work best with young children share our energy and skill with those who deserve it most.

Take a deep breath. Be honest.  Are you constantly angry at your students?  Do you truly believe that the group of people with the least amount of control and say inside a school system are the ones responsible for how you feel?  If so, this is your wake-up call.  Step back, reflect objectively, learn, and, if necessary, acknowledge that kindergarten might not be the place for you.  As long as it's developmentally appropriate and respectful of its youngest learners first, it's a wonderful place for children and the teachers who care for them to continue to learn and grow as they experience and share collaborative learning environments.

*****

You can read more about the debate regarding testing kindergartners here: "Is Kindergarten Too Young to Test?" by Holly Korbey

*****

You *might* be a teacher...

Not sure if Jeff Foxworthy really added a list like this to his joke repertoire, but it's fun to share and contribute to:


You might be a teacher if...

You can hear 25 voices behind you and know exactly which one
belongs to the child out of line.

You get a secret thrill out of laminating something.

You walk into a store and hear the words 'It's Ms/Mr. _________'
and know you have been spotted.

You have 25 people that accidentally call you Mom/Dad at one time
or another.

You can eat a multi-course meal in under twenty-five minutes.

You've trained yourself to go to the bathroom at two distinct
times of the day: lunch and prep period.

You start saving other people's trash, because most likely, you
can use that toilet paper tube or plastic butter tub for something in the
classroom.

You believe the teachers' lounge should be equipped with a
margarita machine.

You want to slap the next person who says 'Must be nice to work 7
to 3 and have summers off.'

You believe chocolate is a food group.

You can tell if it's a full moon without ever looking outside.

You believe that unspeakable evils will befall you if anyone says
'Boy, the kids sure are mellow today.'

You feel the urge to talk to strange children and correct their
behavior when you are out in public.

You think caffeine should be available in intravenous form.

You spend more money on school stuff than you do on your own
children.

You can't pass the school supply aisle without getting at least
five items!

You ask your friends if the left hand turn he just made was a
'good choice or a bad choice.'

You find true beauty in a can full of perfectly sharpened
pencils.

You are secretly addicted to hand sanitizer.

You have an overwhelming urge to nod and say, "Now
I understand why your kid is the way they are," after
meeting the parents.


You believe "shallow gene pool" should have its own
box on report cards.

You hand pieces of paper to your friends and make
them spit out their gum in front of you.


You correct a total stranger's grammar errors.


Any sustained loud noise causes you to impulsively
flick the light switch on and off.

You think it's normal to go through four years of
college to earn a salary that's below the poverty
line.

You send another adult to detention for using
four-letter words in public... and they go.




Don't tell me you're not laughing! Now add to the list!

Colleague Care

...but until then, we'll do what we can to support each other through this interesting time.

I was raised in a family of teachers. I have rather vivid memories of not only events in my own kindergarten classroom thirty-three years ago, but of years and years and years of bulliten boards, schools, towns, school board meetings, parent teacher conferences, school carnivals, open houses and all of the other events that I accompanied my mother to or helped her with in Texas and Alaska. I did some more growing up while in college, choosing teaching as my field of study and profession. I wasn't too terribly observant of all of the educational history I was surrounded by, but a few tidbits here and there got my attention and had me thinking as I began teaching my own students. With my family, my master teacher's input and guidance during my professional year, and terrific mentor teachers as colleagues, those tidbits were sewn together, and after five years of teaching, I felt that I could reach out and invite practicum students and student teachers into my classroom.

I've made new friends and worked with new colleagues after relocating to the Lower-48, and have found these collegial relationships reflecting the fact that I have continued to grow older. No longer the newbie on the staff, nor the youngest, but not so old as to be thought of as "disenchanted" or merely "hanging out until retirement," teachers new to the profession come and ask me for input, advice, or ears to listen and shoulders to cry on when the going gets tough. Shrapnel from the CRT fiasco is still raining down on some of their shoulders and though I now live several states away, how they feel, what they think, and how they problem-solve to manage this situation and their own self-care matters to me greatly.

"Newer" teachers ask new and fresh questions and think of innovative and paradigm-shifting solutions to educational problems, but they also ask those basic questions that more experienced teachers have already moved past. More experienced teachers have been there, done that, and have moved on with their professional knowledge and development, and perhaps don't feel the need (or have the time) to share stories from their own educational histories with the colleagues that have recently graduated from college. When a former colleague expressed both hurt feelings and disappointment over teaching and posed a question on her blog about test scores, "...do they mean that a teacher isn't teaching or that a student isn't learning?" I was inspired to tell a few stories.

Ah, you're in mental-overload-mode now aren't you? That tends to happen to conscientious people such as yourself. As per our OTHER discussions, I'm not sure if the following comments will help stem the tide of professional disappointment for you or if they'll just take your mind zooming in another direction:

* Do low test scores mean that a teacher isn't teaching or that a student isn't learning? Good question. Can you answer it by putting a spin on it though: do HIGH test scores mean that a teacher IS teaching and that a student IS learning? Everyone would have you think so- teachers, administrators, board members, politicians, "experts," etc. but many of us have seen firsthand how reported test scores aren't accurate for whatever reason- a teacher's inexperience administering the assessment, a child's home life or start to that particular day, learning strengths and needs, behavioral issues, disturbances during testing, cultural or socio-economic biases... and don't forget "dumbing down" the test by making it easier so more kiddos will pass, timing the tests with the idea that smarter kids fill in bubbles faster (I still don't understand that one!) and that dreaded "no-no," fudging the scores.

I remember my friends in Barrow (an Eskimo village) years ago not understanding why they got a question "wrong" on the ITBS test. They were asked: what would be good to eat? a) a flower b) a chicken c) a whale d) a car. Now the Eskimo kids who had never SEEN a chicken but who annually helped haul bowhead whales onto the shore when the whaling captains landed "a strike" chose "C, whale." And they got it WRONG. Children who had butchered, cut up, cooked, and eaten bowhead whale had test scores that put them in whatever "needs help" category existed for the test. School experiences happened in isolation, ONLY AT SCHOOL, and "life" for the kids happened outside of school. Students were tested on subjects that were only applicable to them during the school day, not during the annual whale hunt that put food in their bellies and refrigerators.

So NCLB comes along with perhaps a Pollyanna view of reforms aimed to help those considered less fortunate... by ignoring the kids who don't "need" help because they score too high (have you seen any big push for gifted/talented kiddos lately?), making sure the average kids don't slip below their baseline, and by throwing a lot of school experiences at kids that are often only applicable to poor children when they're AT SCHOOL. And school funding is based on the kiddos who are least likely to apply school-knowledge in all aspects of their lives (usually because parents don't), so panic sets in when teachers, administrators, board members, and local politicians figure out that they are being judged on the performance of their lowest students, and they know they are NOT to fail. NCLB doesn't take care of the socio-economic issue or culture of poverty no matter what its proponents claim. The poor stay poor, but now parents, colleagues, and politicians can zing you for not doing their job.

* A lot of people are sucked into the drill that this "school reform" has created. I certainly did not get into teaching to become a revolutionary, a politician, a yeller and a screamer. Nor did I want to be a thoughtless drone, blindly following the commands of all of the "experts." I wanted to help students safely expand their knowledge and appetite for compassion and lifelong learning, and I wanted to work with colleagues who had the same goals. I hoped to be paid for doing something I LOVED, which I suppose is rather indulgent. I certainly do not love all of it now, and I've found that it is usually only with my students that I feel the most fulfilled and effective, the most "aligned" with my own personal goals for my job. What has gotten me through has been reaching out to other like-minded teachers. I was very lucky to have been raised in a family of teachers, a family of GOOD teachers. I was even more fortunate to have worked with the same group of colleagues for a decade before leaving Alaska. We were FAMILY, and while we didn't all agree, most of us felt safe in working together because of our professional mutual respect. When I moved to a new state, I was alone because of the grade I taught and the mood of my grade-level colleague. I had to do my own "professional development" because no one else talked my language. I stayed in touch with colleagues in Alaska, asked them to send me links or copies of materials they were finding useful, and bless them, they did it! I looked online, started finding websites that I could visit regularly so I could maintain some balance and not feel so isolated. When I moved to the next state and was hired, it took a lot of time to find balance between the DRAMA and the real educational issues that needed to be addressed. I had so much I felt I could share, and knew I needed and wanted others to share what they knew with me, but workplace psychology took up more time than should be allowed. So blogging, MySpace, and searching out other resources became a part-time hobby that helped my full-time teaching brain.

I encourage you to continue to reach out. Read some blogs, purposely seek out the thoughts and expressions of teachers from around the world. You won't feel so alone, you won't feel so judged, and you'll know there are a lot of other people out there on your side and on the side of your students.

I'm concerned that many first-year and newbie teachers are leaving college ready to work, ready to teach, and ready to blindly trust educational reforms, mandates, and practices that are not beneficial to students. Some of the newbies are so busy with the duck-and-dodge of their first classrooms and students that they're barely able to come up for air. Others are noticing a huge discrepancy between theory and practice now that they're out in the real world. Many, like my friends, are facing moral and ethical dilemmas as they decide whether or not to risk future tenure, letters of recommendation, and the ability to put food on their tables and clothes on their own childrens' backs by calling other more experienced teachers and administrators "out" for horrible educational practices.

So I'm a Mom AND a Teacher

We've moved to Texas thanks to Uncle Sam, and our eighth grade daughter's first day of school has made quite an impression on her.

She was picked up late by the bus (the driver of which either drove the route incorrectly or followed a pick-up schedule that was changed by the school without notifying parents), which was completely full, three kids per seat. She got to school and dealt with the inevitable "we're a no-nonsense school" attitude from each of her teachers (this is a middle school that had serious "troubles" three years ago, to include drugs, gang violence, etc)... found out that there are six whopping people in band, and she's one of only two girls in it. When she told her English teacher that no, there were no "Mead Composition notebooks" in stores anywhere (yes, we looked at Target, K-Mart, Walmart, and Office Max on BOTH sides of town) her teacher's response was "well, you will get some." Ah, how pleasant. There were so many ticked off parents at the PX and Target today after school because many of their children brought home additional school supply lists from individual teachers after many of us thought the list we had been given at orientation had been rather.... comprehensive. Our daughter brought home TWO additional supply lists, and then gave me the papers she was dreading, the "these are my rules, don't break 'em 'cause these are the heavy duty consequences" notes from teachers who wanted parent signatures on them. I had to correct the note from the English teacher because the grammar she used fell short of "meeting" MY "standards" (remember folks, I'm a kindergarten teacher).

All this after yesterday's El Paso newspaper crowed on and on about the 35-45% of teacher new hires this year that DO NOT HAVE TEACHING DEGREES. They did the quickie "teacher certification" through an "alternative certification program." So bankers, engineers, etc. are now teaching fourth graders. First graders. Kindergartners. High school kids. And I, as a teacher with a degree in Elementary Education, with twelve years teaching experience, and four state teaching licenses, have not been hired. Because I cost 7,000-10,000$ MORE to hire than these "new alternate certification" teachers do. And the main reason the alternate program teachers WANTED to take "substantial pay cuts" by quitting their original vocations to become teachers? SO THEY'D HAVE SUMMERS OFF.

What teacher told any of them they'd get their summers "off?" My Lord. And I'm guessing you wouldn't let a kindergarten teacher who changed her mind and decided she'd "try her hand at being a surgical doctor" into her own practice after obtaining quickie medical licensure in a year-and-a-half's time!

So our girl questioned us as to why all she and the other students heard today were the lists of punitive actions that would be taken against students for infractions such as: being tardy ONCE, "challenging teachers' authority," and not having the exact notebook paper a teacher requested. Apparently many of the teachers at her school have been told that if they yell and appear serious and hard-assed, they have AUTHORITY and will be given RESPECT. Our daughter is *not* a problem child. She aces all of her classes and is a whiz at math. She enjoys humor, kindness, silliness. In short, she's a young girl. More child than woman. And I guess she's outnumbered. She has always had favorite teachers. Favorite subjects. Favorite pieces of music to play. Hobbies, giggles, and still likes Disney pre-teen shows. Up until this year, she has always ENJOYED school. ENJOYED learning. ENJOYED building relationships with those who have helped her on this trek so far. Now she is under the impression that teachers here don't care, don't want to care, and just expect compliance. I'm hoping this will not be a long year.

All this from the school district that has produced seniors in high school (that I have personally assessed during my brief stint at the learning center) that don't know how the prefixes "uni, bi, and tri" change words. Seriously.

We don't want to be stationed here after the SGM Academy is over. And we will certainly not be retiring here.

Little Eyes Upon You

LITTLE EYES UPON YOU

There are little eyes upon you and they're watching you everyday.
There are little ears that quickly take in every word you say.
These are little hands all eager to do anything you do.
A little child who’s dreaming of the day they’ll be like you.

You’re the little child’s idol, you’re the wisest of the wise.
In their little mind about you no suspicions ever rise.
They believe in you devoutly, hold all you say and do.
They will say and do, in your way, when they’re grown up just like you.

There’s a wide-eyed little person who believes you’re always right.
And their eyes are always opened, and they watch all you all day in delight.
You are setting an example every day in all you do.
For the little person who’s waiting to grow up to be just like you.

Author Unknown

Perhaps only other teachers will understand this.

I went back to my classroom today to finish the transition from December/Holidays to January/Snow, and I found myself pleased with:

1) how quickly I had changed all of the colors/decor/books/bulliten boards
and
2) how much I enjoyed making my decor and teaching "props" WORK in this, my third classroom.

My classroom in Fairbanks was long and rectangular, my classroom at White Sands was a DREAM in multi-layers/multi-purpose spaces, and my classroom here in Oz runs along the rectangular type with some fun cabinetry thrown in for good measure. Yet once again, the snowmen, snowflakes, silver stars, mittens and "Chubby Little Snowman" poem all fit perfectly.
I "transition" the room each month to help my students notice the changes that happen around them during the time that passes during the school year. Teachers with more than five or six years' teaching experience can guess which themes are explored and which materials are used (and yes, all of the required kindergarten skills are integrated, so don't panic if you don't see AB patterning, sequencing, D'Nelian penmanship, etc. on the list):

August- Welcome to School (I teach kindergarten, so it's not "back" to school), apples, autumn...

September- autumn, leaves, colors, shapes, numbers, letters, rhymes...

October- harvest, gardens, Halloween, fire safety, our bodies

November- family, Native Americans, Pilgrims, traditions/cultures, food, being thankful

December- family, sharing, winter holidays, weather, senses

January- the new year, weather, snow, seasonal changes, Martin Luther King Jr. (Kansas history this month?), numbers past 100

February- friendships, Valentines, rhyming words, mail and communication, Groundhog's Day (weather again!)

March, April- spring, St. Patrick's Day, Easter, animal families, plants, weather, eggs, calendar review

May- May Day, Cinco de Mayo, summer, Mother's Day, vacation/transportation, "practicing for first grade," and of course, our end-of-the-year celebration.

Each month has a binder with all of the activites, book lists, reproducible pages, mock-ups, stickers, notepads, etc. that correspond with that month's themes, seasons, or holidays. This week I just pulled January's binder off of the shelf, dug through it to my heart's content, pulled whatever looked appropriate and fun for my students, and planned the month. Okay, so I'm fibbing. I pulled the binder off of the shelf mid-DECEMBER. Insert whatever smiley you enjoy most *here*!

Differences between Alaska, New Mexico and Kansas of course require changes in the materials I use, so I'll have to find some way of sneaking in an Eskimo art project this month just for fun so I don't go through withdrawals! Multi-culturalism is "big" in Alaska and New Mexico, so I find it odd that it is barely addressed here in Oz. Could it be that our location, so central in the United States, limits us from as much exposure to such wonderous variety? I did enjoy turning my dramatic play area into a farmhouse in November after the kids enjoyed grossing their parents out in our "Creature Cafe" during October though. Pretending to live on a farm was fun for the students. And then they turned the chairs, piles of plastic food and sacks into "Santa's sleigh and bag of toys." Ah, imagination!

Transitioning the room month to month requires more than inspiration- it requires organization too! I have plastic tubs labeled by months for the props/decor, and all of my storybooks are sorted either by theme/season or author so that I can quickly grab a pile and put it into the book cases, shelves, and baskets for students to peruse. I try to start the year with dark blue paper for the bulliten boards, since the blue works well for each month (except October for some reason...BLACK just seems to do the trick), despite the FADE that inevitably occurs. The bulliten board borders are sorted, and other textural items are added to kill the two-dimensional-trap I despise so much. Raffia, glitter garland, mini-lights...are ALL good things. I have cut outs for hanging patterns above my students' desks that can be used year after year, and with my stash of sentence strip poetry and read-alongs, I can have my students reading new seasonal/theme words and text weekly. With the help of my kinder-colleague, our monthly fine motor skills activities are ordered in advance so that all I have to do is pull the next activity out of my file cabinet or paper-pile each day and voila! Necessary cutting, coloring, tracing, and writing can be done at the beginning of each morning, with very few questions asked while I fly through the required list of paperwork...attendance, lunch count, milk count, etc.

With each move from state to state that I've made, I've found inspiration in my students, the required curriculum, and my own stash of tricks and fun activities. After over a decade of teaching, I've organized my materials, books, and time to accomodate my students' needs, the requirements of the curriculum, and the various schedules of half-day, extended-day, and full-day kindergarten programs. My only "fixation" has been trying to learn each new school's...."culture." The social expectations, the professional requirements, locating the mine fields (and successfully navigating them), and building the relationships required to 1) teach students and 2) stay sane. Three very different states, three very different schools, three very different social scenes.

Satisfaction comes when I can leave my classroom knowing my plans are done, the room is ready, and whatever tidbits are left to do...will KEEP until the next morning. I'm a huge advocate of having a life outside of one's work. And I will never aspire to be a teacher who lives in her classroom, morning, noon, night, and on each day of every weekend of every month. What would I be teaching my students, their families, and my colleagues if I shortchanged my own life, my children, my marriage, my friendships, my hobbies, my solitude...my SELF?

Satisfaction also comes when Uncle Sam moves us yet once again, and my tubs, binders, books and decor all find their way to their new "home," no matter the classroom layout.

Second semester is here. Let's get the party started!

Everything I Needed to Know I Learned in...

Well okay, Kindergarten. Kindergarten in Texas as a child, kindergarten in Alaska, New Mexico, and now Kansas, as a teacher.

In Texas, I learned I was strong. At the age of four-and-a-half, **I** was the one who broke the pinata at Halloween. To this day, I still have the memory of being blindfolded, with a stick of some sort in my hand, hearing "hit it Mica, hit it!" Then the feeling of contact, and the sound of hard candies hitting the bare floor. "Get the candy, get the candy!" I couldn't. I was too busy holding the corner of the blindfold up away from my eyes, watching the swarm of kids at my feet grabbing for the candy I had released from the paper mache prison. I'm strong. God bless the teacher who probably held the pinata down still where I could hit it.

I endured, sometimes enjoyed, and in the end survived the next twelve years of school, and attended college hoping to be a Broadcast and Journalism major. One horribly inappropriate instructor and enough views of news reporters on television shoving microphones into the faces of families who just experienced some horror, and my mind was forever changed. Back to "what I knew," since it was easier to draw upon my life's experiences as a teacher's kid... freed me up to go out and socialize, meet people, learn the right ways, and several wrong ways of interacting with others. Ta da, six years later (darn that socializing), and I had a Bachelor's Degree in Education.

I was hired late into the school year as a kindergarten teacher. Frankly, it was the **last** grade I ever thought I'd want to teach. I cried. Yes, cried, the night before I was supposed to meet my new students. The next day, with stinging, puffy eyes, I survived my re-introduction to the kindergarten world, thanks to wonderful students, and two amazingly terrific teachers. While one would move on to a principalship in another town, the other would become not so much a mentor, but a role model (I tend to observe, think things through, try them out on my own, and gauge the result BEFORE I ask for help) and eventually, the treasured shoulders, ears, and insights of a true friend I respected not only as a teacher but a human being. She observed, fine-tuned, overhauled, and encouraged my successes, and occasionally was hit by the shrapnel resulting from my clueless lack of experience. When one of her own former student teachers was added to our kindergarten team, I had yet another wonderful teacher from whom to learn. Our colleagues, their families, and our school's neighborhood, children and all, imprinted upon me so many memories, so many opportunities to build my own opinions, so many experiences... I had no idea how they would help me when I had to leave a decade later.

Uncle Sam decided to move my husband and thus, our family, to New Mexico, where I became employed in my second school district ever. Meeting my new colleagues, my new administrators, and my new students and families was quite the experience. No matter how diverse I had thought my decade teaching in Alaska had been, it turned out there was a great big world out there! Even in my own country, attitudes, biases, prejudices, beliefs and practices vary widely. Thankfully, I had taught long enough to recognize the social and professional choreography displayed at my new school. I was able to compare and contrast differences in office procedures, school routines, social cliques, curriculum, socio-economic boundaries, school culture, teaching styles, and school-wide discipline. Some practices, not many, were aligned with my own teaching philosophy and goals. Redundancies abounded, communication never made it completely around the loop, and in a predominantly Hispanic school district, I was asked several times WHY I had number and color words on my bulletin board in English AND in Spanish. On the upswing, my class size was limited to fifteen, and my students got along wonderfully with one another. They were happy, healthy, bright, eager, and kind, and their parents were extremely supportive and helpful. I had two wonderful practicum students who were more colleagues than pupils, and was able to build fun and supportive friendships with subs and parent volunteers. An occasional tray of homemade cookies left in the lounge always garnered thanks and smiles, so there weren't too many social obstacles for me to overcome.

Now, in my third state, and my third school, I'm still teaching kindergarten. Yet again, I've had to sit back, get the "lay of the land," and learn my steps in the new choreography. As I'm able to now compare and contrast practices between three schools, districts, and states, I feel comfortable that my experiences are adding up to help me pick and choose the best of all I have observed, been given, thought up on my own, and in some cases, endured, for the benefit of my students, their families, and my colleagues. My personal and professional philosophies have four supporters at this time: my husband, my kindergarten colleague, the speech therapist, and another teacher at work. Most everyone else with whom I've interacted has been taken aback, not quite sure of what they are observing. My discipline plan, my instructional practices, my vocabulary and tone with my students (and the students of other teachers), have all been questioned by support staff, colleagues, administrators and parents. My students' parents and the four supporters listed previously, seem to be the only adults who understand why I find it necessary to build relationships with my students, to help build relationships between my students, and work as much with the social skills as the academic. Relationship-building with colleagues who possess a similar amount of teaching experience or more has been awkward. I don't FIT. How I think, what I think, and what I do, are evaluated from a distance. My perspectives on discipline, developmentally appropriate practices, support for kindergarten teachers, relationship-building, and my regard for my students' emotional safety at school during this very special year are apparently perceived as odd, not the norm, perhaps even "off by a few bubbles." To feel so outnumbered by professionals who are consumed by what they themselves want from their students instead of what they want for their students is an odd position in which to find myself.

I recently attended a districtwide grade level meeting where most of the debate and discussions revolved around how to make the S.F.A. observers happy. How to get through the entire required curriculum when students wanted to spend more time on certain activities than others. How five year olds still weren't demonstrating perfect penmanship (we're only a month and a half into the school year as of this posting), and how teachers were thrilled their schools' "academic support" staff were allowed to take children into a back room of the building, and "put the fear of God into them" when they wouldn't comply. I was appalled, not only as a teacher, but as a mother. Only a small handful of teachers volunteered suggestions to help with curriculum issues, and our time at the meeting was limited to an hour. Feedback was requested which my grade level partner and I gladly provided, but I left the meeting feeling so outnumbered, and therefore not nearly as open to helping my fellow kindergarten teachers. While I have been providing feedback and hopefully supportive shoulders and ears like my very first role model did, I can't help but feel that without a public and high-enough-on-the-food-chain supporter and advocate, my hands are tied, and frankly, my philosophy is not a good match for this district.

Don't yell. Don't hurt peoples' feelings. Don't hit. Say "please" and "thank you." Eat a snack. Take a nap. Share. Walk with scissors. Don't eat glue. Remember to write your name on your paper, and share your books. Help your friends, smile at your teacher, at least be polite if you can't be nice. Life lessons taught in kindergarten don't often carry over into adulthood. And it's a shame. It's an even bigger shame when they don't carry over to the very people trusted to provide educational and emotional support to children for twelve or thirteen years.

We accommodate students, not the BRAND of the curriculum materials. Not the S.F.A. saleswoman or product support staff who come in and "spot observe" several times a year. I would never consider a doctor, lawyer, or mechanic truly qualified if they only came in to see me on their own schedule, on dates they chose as best for themselves. If they only did a looksie at my car without ever looking under the hood, smiled at me but didn't take my blood pressure and vitals, or only asked if I had a will or not, I wouldn't find them very helpful. Observers who only come in to see if each cutely named activity is being performed at the exact minute of the prescribed schedule... or to see if a poster is hung at the appropriate spot in my classroom , are completely missing out on what they should be there to observe: My students. Learning.

Other issues have had my attention in previous blog postings, and taking them into consideration with my latest observations, it's clear I have to go back to what I learned in kindergarten that October, thirty-two years ago: I'm strong. It's time to find a Master's Degree program, and then a Doctoral Program after that. Perhaps when I have enough letters of the alphabet after my name, my ideas won't seem alien, they'll seem revolutionary. And worth some contemplation and adoption.