The Magic

(At the tail end of an absurdly long day)

"Ms. Sablich, I keep falling asleep and I keep trying to stay awake but I keep falling asleep."

"Okay buddy. Um, oh! I have a magic trick to wake you up. Keep your hands up and snap your fingers three times." (Yes, I realize that I'm a terrible person for manipulating nine year old children.)

Student returns to seat, attempts the magic.

"Ms. Sablich, I can't do it because my finger hurts and the doctor said it would be Friday before it stops hurting so I can't do it until Friday."

"Um... okay. That kind of stinks. Does your finger hurt right now?"

"No, but it won't stop hurting until Friday cause the doctor said."

"Ummmm..."

Student returns to seat.

"Ms. Sablich, I thought cause it was magic then I would learn how to snap. But I didn't."

I love these kids.

Emotional

I'm a teacher of preteen girls. This wasn't such a huge issue... until they realized it.

"We got all kinds of hormones goin' on up in here."

It didn't help so much that I was emotional today too. I only cried three times.

"I guess Ms. Sablich got them hormones too."

Yes baby, she does.

Well Then

Just in case you wondered.

Weekends with a Teacher

Since I have spent the last week crashing with friends of mine whilst on the hunt for a new apartment, I have learned that weekends with teacher Stephanie are not unique. Perhaps when I have a bit more understanding of what I'm doing things won't be like this. Perhaps someday I will spend just 5 hours on a Saturday afternoon planning lessons and preparing for the week.

For now though, here we are.

It is Sunday evening, and I took Friday night off.

It is Sunday evening, and I worked a total of 18 hours since leaving school at 5:30 on Friday evening.

It is Sunday evening, and I had a 61 item to-do list this weekend.

It is Sunday evening, and I have worked 73 hours in the last week.

It is Sunday evening, and I feel guilty about the time I spent relaxing.

it is a good thing I love my job.

Bring it ON, week five. Behavior system, phone calls, small groups, pointless half-days... bring it ON.

Age Issues

Being a relatively young teacher, I do a very good job of convoluting the amount of time that has passed since my birth, and exactly how many years of experience I have. This is important in the younger grades so that parents see me as nothing but an authority, and when I taught high school it was important for very obvious reasons. So, my standard age that I tell people when they ask is 67. 

It is amazing what kids will believe. 

Yesterday, I was reading a Magic School Bus book with my fifth grade class. While they were settling in, I mentioned that the Magic School Bus series was a collection of books, before the television show. I said something about how I was about the age of many of my students when I was watching the shows, and that I was 8 when the book we were reading was published. The paraprofessional in my room asked when the book was written, and I said "96." He looked amazed, and then three seconds later a student burst out with "But Ms. Sablich, that means you're NOT 67!" 

No darling, I'm not. 

Guess What?

When I first started working in a classroom, I tiptoed around issues. I used nuanced language and said convoluted things in an effort to get the kids to like me. 

"Buddy, we just don't do that, okay?" 

"Hun, can you please stop doing that?"

"We all just want to be nice to our friends, right?"

Two years into this, this is how I speak.

"(Student name). You are NOT following my directions."

"(Student name). STOP. NOW."

"You're acting mean, and people aren't going to like you if you do that."

I have found that frank, pointed conversations are best. They are most effective, and they resolve issues quickly, without wasting too much learning time. This morning, my students got a dose of a very frank Ms. Sablich conversation. 

(Stern voice) "Guess what? I'm not your friend, and I don't care if you like me. My job is not to be a nice person. My job is to teach you things. If you are wasting time and stealing the learning opportunities of others, you WILL get a consequence. I don't get paid to hear excuses and put up with nonsense. I get paid to make you the best students you can be." 

Then, like any good teacher, I feign a bit of a personality switch.

(Sweet voice) "Of course, if you happen to love me being your teacher, that makes me feel great."

(Stern voice) "But that is NOT my main job."

We had a good morning. 

Oh, We GOT This

Children of divorced parents often discover the opportunity to misbehave all too easily. They play one parent against the other and win sympathies they wouldn't otherwise have extended to them.

My students play the same game, apparently. Because I teach both fourth and fifth grade, they have the opportunity to attempt to win the support of the other teacher, when they aren't in my class. Unsurprisingly, this typically happens after they had a difficult experience with me.

Sample:

"Dear Miss V: Ms. S said that I pushed D~ but I didn't so this is what happen we walked in the class and he was playing in the line then I exidtly (note- accidently, excitedly?) pushed him to tell him could you stop playing in the line. Then Ms. S thought it was a big push like to push him on purpose so I got a D (note- for not following directions) but I talked to her about what happen and she said that it was okay and she said that you can erased. (note- absolutely NOT true... she talked, I said "you pushed him") And the talking one was not me she had made a mistake about me talking I am not suppose to have a strike because I talked to her so that is what happened about the story I am not suppose to have a strike She made a mistake what happened If you want to talk to me you can but I leave real early so I just wanted to let you know. So I am not suppose to have strike thanks for listening and I love you very much! So can you give me a warning just like everybody else in Ms. S (note- NOT true... I'm crazy strict) and it won't happen again! I prmess it won't happen again!!!"

About 10 minutes later Ms. V walked this note to my room for me to read. We don't play, kiddos. Except for the same team.

I Promise I'm White!

The psychology of the racial relationships between black students and white teachers is becoming incredibly interesting to me. Some of my students seem to get it- I can still care about them and they can trust me, even though I'm white and they are black.

Some, however... just don't totally follow.

I have one special student who  is rather young emotionally, and intensely racially curious. She has asked me many many times what my race is, and each time I explain to her that I am white... and WHY I am white.

"Miss, is you white or black?"
"S~, I'm white. Remember, we talked about this last week?"
"Yeah, but like... you is nice."
"White people can be nice too. We are all just people on the inside, even if we have differences on the outside."
"Yeah, but..."

I talked to another teacher who has this student, and it seems that for this student, good teachers who are white progress slowly to being black as trust is developed. This relationship of trust and care must be reconciled with the racial "separateness" that she feels, and so every white teacher with whom she has a relationship becomes a light skinned black person.

Until yesterday, when I heard this...

"Miss, I like your hair. My hair is nappy."
"No way! I have ALWAYS wanted hair like yours!"
"Nah, Miss. You got that nice hair, that nice Chinese hair."

We've got some work to do.