The end of my 2nd year

I haven't had much time to really reflect on this, my second year of teaching.  I started training for summer school yesterday.  I want to take the time to remember some things.

This was a challenging year.  4 preps: world geography, math research, language arts, and reading.  In a lot of ways it felt like my first year of teaching because I had taken a year off between my first and second year.  Also, I had to adjust coming from a small alternative school, where there was much less bureaucracy.

I found that my intensive classes made me a better teacher than my honors classes.  They could tell when I was unprepared, and would take that opportunity.  I had to be on my game.

Beginning graduate school was a definite plus.  It meant I had no time to stop and breathe in life.  I didn't get to see my friends and family as much as I would have liked, but it helped shape me.  It gave me a bigger picture of education, a solid anchor.  An inquiring mind.  What are we teaching?  Why are we teaching this?  Who are we teaching what to whom?  Who decides?

I am so thankful for all of the teachers who showed me how to do things- and how not to do things.  I had a wonderful mentor teacher.  How wonderful to be next door to a master teacher.  To step inside her classroom and observe was like stepping up to the table to a delicious meal, when I was very hungry.

Teaching is a spiritual battle. 

I wish I had had more fun with my students.  I was so focused on getting them to "do the work", I missed a lot of opportunities for joy and play. 

I remember (one of) my SAL's at the beginning of the year reminding teachers to "stick to the curriculum".  He described it as, "You're moving into a house, the first thing you need to do is check the plumbing.  You shouldn't be painting the walls."  And I remember thinking, "Painting the walls is important."

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

Happy 1st Birthday, MyPlate.gov!

Teachers are never alone in their struggles of fighting the currents of mandates, while hanging on to that which we feel is good and right.  I found an unlikely connection in our cafeteria worker, the beloved Miss E.  She uses her own recipes and brings in her own equipment from home that the school doesn't provide.  She was sorely missed this year when her husband died and, later on, during a bout of surgery.  She's a dear, but I don't agree with her values on nutrition v. taste.  Her food ain't gourmet, but it is cooked with care.

The cafeteria at my school, though run by many hard working employees, is contributing to the obesity epidemic.  Really, this is a district-state-national issue.  On the occasion I do go to the student line, I am always disappointed.  You walk up, and all you can see is a glowing pizza on display.  You have to be tall and interested in looking behind the pizza to see any other choices.  Chips and cookies are staples for my students.  I implore them to choose vegetables and fruits. 

Here I am, hyped up on Jamie Oliver's "Food Revolution".  So I cornered our cafeteria manger.

Me: What sort of response is our district taking to some of the new USDA pushes this year?
Manager: The new laws mean more whole wheat. So we're using whole wheat pastas, whole wheat flours for baked goods, whole wheat buns with our sandwiches.
Me: Nice.
Manager:  More fruits and vegetables. 
Me: Are we were always going to use plastic and paper disposable trays?  Will we ever go back to the days of real dishes and silverware?  Think of the environmental impact!  Can I ever send students to dishes detention? 
Manager: No.

Miss E is being told to use all of these whole wheat pastas and flours.  She is told to "follow the recipe!"  She doesn't feel appreciated by her manager.  She wants to add buckets of cheese to the broccoli.  She fears that we otherwise "won't like it.  It taste too bland."  I try and assure her that we like bland.  She jokes that when she doesn't come back next year, all the teachers are going to lose a lot of weight.  I'm pretty sure she's right.