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Another Day In High School
They came back from lunch, sat at their desks and were fairly quiet for thirty-something seventeen-year-olds packed in a tiny room. The questions to the novel we read together were on the SmartBoard. My goal was to discuss the characters and themes. The students were quieter than normal, which falsely lead me to believe that they were really interested in our discussion. After all, this was a novel one boy had referred to as “a book I actually may buy.”
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The Boy Who Gave Me Hope
The boy who gave me hope He came to class most days looking like he’d just crawled out bed. I understood. My mornings began at 4:30 am. A seven am. school start time was early! I’d begin class, and he’d put his head down and sleep. My heart sank. A little voice told me to teach to the other thirty that listened. Still there he was not caring at all. I reached out to him. Nothing. I explained that there was make-up work to complete. Nothing. As the quarter continued his incompletes accumulated.
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Writing From the Heart
I stood in front of the class and breathed. Would this work or would I fail? Could I take an exercise from a writing workshop and teach it to high school students? These past few weeks have been a whirlwind. I’ve taught and subbed for years but have never taught eleventh grade. My husband explained a phrase used in business, fail fast. Take risks, if you fail at least you tried, learn and move on. That’s been my motto these past few weeks as I’ve tried to keep thirty-four seventeen-year-olds engaged in class. Each time something didn’t work, I’d fail fast and try again. Sometimes what worked for one class didn’t…
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The Dark Room
The room is empty, pitch black; I’m standing in the doorway trying to decide whether to walk in or shut the door and move on. I take a step. There’s a light switch. I turn it on, but it only illuminates as far as my next step. Curious, I continue knowing I could escape, run out slam the door and return to the comfort of what I know. Little by little, I make my way to the center of the room switching on more lights as I go, excitement stirs, I remember. It feels as though I’m standing in an abandoned amusement park watching as one ride after the other comes…
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Do Substitutes Matter?
Why I decided to become a substitute teacher I was a classroom teacher for five years. The principal of our school was a strong woman, a no-nonsense woman with a huge heart and high expectations. I trusted her and enjoyed working with her. It was what my young thirty-something-year-old self needed, a strong female example of a good leader. She helped me grow as a teacher, and she let me express my creativity in my lesson plans instead of following a cookie cutter template.
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Epic Teaching Fail
Never have I come home from a substitute teaching job and cried. Until this year… The phone rang for middle school. My inner voice said you know it’s going to be tough. Delving into a class full of hormonal teens trying to figure out their place in the world can be challenging. I’ve done it for the past three years, subbing in classes that can be difficult to find subs for because of behaviors. Slowly it’s taken its toll, and this year I had decided to sub only for high school. Then came the call for middle. I figured I had all summer to rest, an attitude of positivity and a…
