The First Week

Never again will I fault any of my teachers or professors for not returning my assignments in a "timely manner" because as it turns out, they really are busy!  By nature I am a "planner" and live just to write tasks in my schedule book just so I can cross them off (well, and to accomplish them of course), but sometimes there just isn't enough time in the day.  I apologize for the extremely delayed detailing of my first week as a student teacher and thank you to everyone who has approached me to tell me that they are following along.  Hearing the voice or reading the words of someone whom I never thought would read my tiny teaching blog is extremely rewarding and reminds me that my students now and in the future just might actually be listening to what I say.  Inspiring!

Overall, my first week was filled with peaks and valleys and the journey through the first five days allowed me to experience typical teacher duties and new emotions about myself as a teacher-to-be.  I arrived to the school at 7:45am Monday morning, only to find that I was the first to arrive, so naturally I wandered around awkwardly looking for a familiar face.  Eventually the principal found me and invited me to breakfast and introduced me to the staff as they slowly arrived.  I'm slightly awkward in everyday life, but nerves coupled with a new environment all while trying to put on my best teacher face was slightly overwhelming.  Finally, I turned off the ongoing narration in my head and settled into the morning.  Both Monday and Tuesday were designed to allow the teachers time in their classroom, as well as meetings to review handbook changes, insurance, new teacher information, CPR training, and every little bit of information that one might need to know before students arrive.  The days were long, but peaceful and I was able to get what I believed to be a firm grasp on the school and what to expect. On Tuesday, the principal (also Superintendent), Bonnie, cooked a hearty breakfast and we all eased into the day.  Little did I know that it was the calm before the storm.

I finally was able to sit down with my CT and begin to review what her curriculum expectations were for the year, or at least the four months that I would be interning in her classroom.  I'll admit that I was a little more than disappointed when it became apparent that while everything was mapped out in her mind, it wasn't on paper and she wasn't clearly communicating with me her plans.  Remember, I'm a planner and the possibility that I'd be the apprentice of a non-planner was semi-devastating.  (Okay, that is a bit of a dramatic remark)  Essentially, I left the last day of PIR knowing only as much as the students knew and I had already been in school for two days. (score:  CT-1, me-0...but whose keeping score)  And thus began my mental battle of wondering what I should ask of my CT, and when I should keep my mouth closed.

As usual, Tuesday night found me with back-to-school jitters while I picked out the following days attire.  What has always been unusual to me is the level of casual dress that is acceptable in the west.  Do I dress up, or simply dress "nice" for Montana standards.  I didn't want to be over or under dressed, but then decided to pick something out and call it quits while chalking up my indecisiveness to first-day jitters.  The next morning arrived quickly and before I knew it I was standing in front of the school with the CT monitoring the students as they ate breakfast, gave shy smiles to their classmates, and made their way into the school as the bell rang. The day started off with a school wide assembly (77 students) to introduce all the teachers (even little ol' me) and cover any changes in the handbooks.  Teaching at a rural school is exciting because there is a sense of pride and excitement that appears almost innate in the students that I don't believe always happens in bigger schools.  When the principal introduced me to the student body my name was met with wild applause, foot stomping on the bleachers, and a heard of tony elementary students running over to high-five me; it was the warmest welcome I've ever received.

Unfortunately, the excitement of the first week came to a screeching halt after the meeting.  I knew going into this experience that not every day would be filled with inspiring young minds to achieve the greater good, but never did I imagine I'd experience the pain of boredom.  Even worse, I felt like a high school student.  No, it wasn't that I blended in among the students leading me to feel out of place, but I actually felt like I was being treated like a student.  For days I sat amongst the actual students and paid attention to the reading of rules, beginning lessons, and discussion, but I wasn't allowed to participate.  I was fuming inside and constantly had to calm my inner teacher.  Is it wrong that I'm eager to teach and feel that the 90 hours of observation I put in last semester are enough quiet reflection?  Slowly the boredom ate away at my mind and I began concocting reasons as to why I should not endure such a punishment and how I would fight against the student teaching gods in academia...Sheesh, I get carried away so easily.  I suppose that in the end all I was desiring was a small bit of recognition and a place of my own.  Unbeknownst to my CT, I needed to be introduced to the students and I was desiring for her to ask them to introduce themselves to me.  I predict that it is difficult to be a new teacher (just like a new student) in a rural school because everyone already knows everyone and it's easy to forget about the newbies.

The days of the first week dragged on and I found myself becoming very picky about the methods my CT used to educate her class.  This my friends is where a new student teacher can get into trouble.  So, you think you're smart, that maybe even you were born to be a teacher, and you can clearly visualize yourself with your own classroom and several students who admire their favorite English teacher...just because you feel that way it is not a reason to actually verbalize it.  Instead, take notes about what is happening and how you would do it differently if presented with a similar scenario.  The first meaningful note I scrawled was to "read the worksheet directions before you pass it out to your students."  It sounds simple enough, but I know we've all had, or witnessed, teachers who pass out a worksheet or administer a test and when confronted with a question about the material look at it as if it were the first time they've ever laid eyes on it.  Maybe it is.  I say if you haven't had time to refresh your memory about the worksheet/project/test/etc...then while you are passing it out read the direction to your students.  That way both you and the class have heard the directions at least once before answers are given or interpretation questions are asked.

Finally it was Friday and I had survived a whole week (well 3 days with students).  I entered the school with my head held high and ready to submerge myself into the fine world of education.  The first two periods started off smoothly and I was even asked to assist a class of Seniors with the introduction to Anglo-Saxon literature.  (I realize that all of you non-English-nerdies aren't quite as excited as my fellow E-peers)  By third period things started going down hill...fast!  The seventh graders couldn't sit still, keep their hands to themselves, or stay on topic.  Since there are only 3 students every action is noticed and commented on by the teacher.  At one point I again felt like a student (I haven't been in seventh grade for 17 years!) when the teacher was angry enough to ask me to sit in between to misbehaving boys, all the while lecturing about inappropriate behavior.  It was then that I decided a student teacher needs to suck it up for at least the first week.  My lovely rural school hasn't had a student teacher in an unmentionable amount of years and it is only natural that not a sole would know what to do with me.  I decided that all of the pain and boredom I experienced was for the greater good and simply put I needed to suck it up and relax over the weekend.  I felt good about my change of heart and that's when seventh period began.

I didn't expect to have a boy cry in my eighth grade English class.  Oh yes, you read that right...a tearful eighth grader during the last period of the day.  I should probably back up a moment and say that while my main CT teaches 9-12, I am also student teaching eighth grade English under Mrs. B (who also happens to teach half a day of first grade, is the librarian and elementary computer teacher, as well as eighth grade English).  And, I am teaching seventh grade English under Mrs. G who happens to also teach grades 4-6.  Yup, 5 different grades and 3 different teachers.  Mrs. B is a little on the frazzled side, so I'm going to chalk my little eighth grade buddy shedding some tears on her reaction and his bad day.  All in all, it was quite the week.