I'm better at this than I think

I got the opportunity yesterday afternoon to lead the class in a lesson. Mrs. P had a meeting during the second half of the afternoon, and though there was a substitute teacher present, she asked me to teach the lesson. I was nervous about doing it, but I figured that I would have to do it sometime, especially if I was planning to go to teacher's college and actually become a teacher (duh!). I have to say that the experience went pretty well, and though I made a few mistakes, as can be expected, things went off fairly easily.

The first thing I did was to have all the kids sit on the carpet to demonstrate what they would be doing later on in groups. I showed them a small catapult contraption that had been made by another teacher, which was directedly related to the "simple machines" science unit they had been working on over the past few weeks. They were pretty quick to figure out what it was called, and that it was a lever. I was pleased with the attention they paid me throughout the discussion. It helped that the sub teacher, who had retired a couple of years back from that school, had a pretty commanding presence. He also relieved me of my unspoken concern about being a good teacher in front of him by leaving the classroom for a few minutes while I began the lesson. Anyway, the kids seemed fairly interested in what I was showing them, and they were excited about conducting the catapult experiments on their own in groups of 3. Since this was the first time I had ever actually taught something (the poetry reading with a class a couple of years ago excepted), I'm pretty happy about how I did and what came of it all in the end.

Naturally, once the kids were left to their own devices (so to speak) to let all kinds of objects be flung around with their catapults, it was a little more difficult to keep them focussed on the task at hand, including the completion of some written work about the catapult and what it does. The sub teacher was definitely very good at getting groups to get going on what they should be doing, but I feel that I could have been more clear about what I was asking of them on the outset. With fairly limited time with the class each week (and the overwhelming feeling I have of being a "guest" in the classroom instead of a facilitator) I'm still trying to figure out how much is too much to expect of them while trying not to expect to little. These are the things I think I should have done better:

1) I should have written the names of the objects on the board beforehand.

2) I should have given the kids instruction on how they would conduct the catapult experiment (but I hadn't really thought about it until I watched them do it, so that's knowledge gained from hindsight).

3) I should not have argued with Nico about forgetting to mention one of the objects in the baggy while everyone was on the carpet. I should have just said that I forgot instead of continuing the discussion for much longer than it was worth. I know why I argued with her, though; my insecurities were stupidly encouraged when she said, upon entering the classroom after recess, "I wish Mrs. P were here". It can be difficult forgetting that you don't have to impress every kid from the get-go, especially the ones who like to point out your mistakes.

I've come to realize that I'm going to screw things up more the less I trust myself. I seriously enjoy teaching, so I should free my self-centred concerns up a little and just have fun. Kids learn much better that way!

Finding focus

I've been watching a series that I've borrowed from the library called "The Effective Teacher", featuring a talk given by Dr. Harry Wong. He gives pointers on how to manage the classroom (which is the most important skill a teacher can learn, according to him) and encourages his audience to observe what works for other teachers and then steal their ideas. One tack he takes is to make sure the students have something to do right when they get into the classroom, such as a daily assignment that is written on the same part of the chalkboard every day. Giving children something to do the minute they get to class every morning forces them to organize their minds and their behaviour, reducing the amount of "rounding up" the teacher has to do in the morning. It also means that the teacher doesn't have to waste time by doing a roll call; he or she can see who's away almost right away, and doesn't have to disrupt the class or waste time.

I noticed this week that this procedure of giving students something to work on right away worked beautifully for a child in the class I'm working with who has ADHD. Mrs. P asked that I read with that child when he gets into class and while the morning rituals played themselves out because she noticed that giving him something to do first thing makes him calmer the rest of the day. The fact that he enjoys reading aloud increased the chance of success. So on Tuesday I did just that. He ended up reading 3 short books aloud to me, and the difference in his behaviour when he sat with the rest of the class afterwards was miraculous. I had witnessed an increase in aggression the week before from him, and Mrs. P said that his behaviour was certainly getting more challenging, and his mother was pretty eager to blame everyone else for not helping her child enough. Compared to last week, he had made a huge improvement in behaviour, and it's because he had something to first thing in the morning. It was such an interesting coincidence that I was involved with Mrs. P's idea for helping the ADHD kid focus and had heard about the same process on that video, and it worked! It's amazing the small steps one can take to make children co-operate. I don't feel as overwhelmed by the whole endeavour now as I did in the beginning, which is definitely encouraging.

The Blue Sheet

I think I should get back to the things I learned in my first experience at RCC as a teaching assistant. I want to make sure that I don't forget anything so that I'm prepared if/when I have to fill out the application forms to teacher's college.

One of the measures of discipline that was used throughout the school was called "the blue sheet". This method consisted of a child filling out a form that was printed on a blue sheet of paper. The form had the child explain what they had done wrong to warrant the use of the form, and it gave them an opportunity to explain their side of things, especially if the problem involved a fight with another student. I think back now on this method of correcting children's behaviour, and I think that ultimately it wasn't an effective means to discipline. I don't think the use of the blue sheet was properly governed, and even though kids understood that the mention of the blue sheet meant they were in big trouble, it wasn't a threat serious enough to manage the students within the school. It tended to quiet them down for the time being, but I never got the sense that the kids had learned anything from their mistakes, especially since the blue sheet had had to be used more than once for the more disrepectful students. To me those sheets were an emergency measure for frazzled teachers instead of a behaviour modification/learning tool, and I can't help but question the true effectiveness of such an approach. In the case of the teacher I worked with, she couldn't manage the class in such a way that the students knew exactly where they should be and what they should be doing at all times. That was part of the problem, and one that the blue sheet did not ultimately rememdy.

There was one incident in particular that I believed to be an improper use of the blue sheet, and I felt it in my gut immediately. I was outside with the class about to start a game of soccer-baseball. There was one girl in the class who often behaved pretty badly, who was disrepectful and pushy, and who you could tell was often quite angry. There was no joy in those eyes. I knew that she didn't come from the most supportive of households, from what the teacher had told me, and I remembered having seen her once at the local market doing the grocery shopping by herself for the family. She was only 11 years old. Anyway, she refused to participate in the game "just because" and no matter how much the teacher yelled at her, she wouldn't change her mind. Having quickly gotten to the end of her rope with this girl, the teacher asked me to take her inside to fill out a blue sheet and leave her at the office. I knew immediately that the teacher was misusing the blue sheet as quick end to her outrage at this kid's disobedience, and I could tell that the girl felt a kind of injustice, as did I. I walked her across the field and tried to talk to her a little, saying things like, "so, I take it you've gotten these blue sheets a few times, huh? So why didn't you want to play out there?". Needless to say she had no reason to trust me so she didn's say much, but she was definitely quite upset at what was going on, and her anger and sadness could be seen in her red, teary eyes. I mean, the kid didn't want to play a game with the rest of the kids, but does that really warrant being punished like that, having the incident put in her file and dealt with by the principal's office? Especially since it was blatantly obvious that this kid has serious emotional issues at home. Disobedience is one thing if it means a child can get hurt or hurt someone else, but refusing to participate in a game is not that bad when clearly there is a problem underlying her behaviour that has been there for a long time. Had I been in the teacher's place I would have asked me to escort her inside and have her work on an assignment, or let her sit and watch the game, then talk to her about it later. Instead she was disciplined harshly for a fairly small infracture, which cemented her unwillingness to cooperate and communicate in future situations. I seriously doubt the teacher ended up having a serious talk with the student about her behaviour. Given that she lectured the entire class for poor behaviour (at least weekly) instead of discussing it with them individually (they were old enough to discuss their behaviour), not to mention learning how to actually manage the classroom, I had put very little faith in how this teacher followed up on a blue sheet.

I'd like to add that I do understand the frustration teachers go through on a daily basis. And the kids are very good at pushing your buttons. I could see that this teacher really wanted to see her students succeed, but she wasn't willing to actually put in the effort to teach instead of simply "survive", as Dr. Harry Wong puts it. It wasn't an accident that the students who filled most of the spots in the after-school tutoring programme that I also worked with came from her classroom. After that year the co-ordinators had to put a quota on the number of students per class who would be tutored. She simply did not have the management skills, the energy or the confidence to host the kind of learning environment that these kids so desperately needed (and often hadn't gotten from previous teachers in that school). I am someone who can lose patience easily, but sometimes it's just not an option and a teacher with any kind of experience needs to at least know that. When it comes to children, my patience has to stay in check no matter what, and I'm glad to say that it does. A bad day is one thing, several bad weeks literally changes the way these kids respect treat you as teacher, which directly affects how much they learn.

I will talk more about my own experience when I taught this class in groups of four sometime soon.

Already lessons learned

I've completed my second week as a teaching assistant, and I have learned some very important lessons so far from this wonderful teacher (Mrs. P) with whom I have the privilege of working:

1) Learn to choose your battles: it's just not worth disrupting the entire class for every little thing the kids do wrong behaviour-wise. I was a little astounded by how some kids would individually get up during their lesson on the carpet to get a drink of water from the in-class water fountain, grab a kleenex from the teacher's desk that they'd barely use and then toss out, etc. Then I realized, what's the big deal? We're all entitled to a short break from time to time, and if the morning feels really long for me, it must feel super long for them! I think that constantly having to scold children for tiny disruptions impedes the progress of the lesson, which is definitely counter-productive. And often the disruptions aren't as important as I had originally thought (my first impression/concern having lasted all of half a morning that first day). This leads me to my second point...

2) Don't expect more of the children than they can possible achieve at their age level. This lesson will of course require a better understanding on my part of what I should expect (and consequently not expect) out of 7- and 8-year-olds, which is where experience and Teacher's College come in. Mrs. P can tell when the class is getting restless and when no amount of "Magic 5" (counting down out loud from 5 to 1, with each number representing an action the children should take to quiet down, i.e., 5 - sit on bum, 4 - hands in lap, 3 - eyes on teacher, etc.) will do enough to get them to co-operate, so she has them get up to do some fun physical exercise. And it works! I know this trick isn't by far a new one, but I really appreciate Mrs. P's wisdom in knowing when to draw the line instead of getting impatient and raising her voice. I have yet to hear her raise her voice, something that will be difficult for me to learn and yet so admirable and effective in the end. She uses other methods, instead, of warning the children that they're crossing the line, like the "Magic 5" countdown, and clothes pegs on a chart that are moved up (by the children themselves) from 0 to 1 to 2 to 3 (with a slightly more serious punishment of sending the child alone to his or her desk after 3 has been reached) when the envelope has been pushed a little too far. Both methods work very well, and it's rare that kids make it to 3, let alone 1 or 2. Of course, these methods harmonize nicely with her teaching style, which includes praise, encouragement and, most importantly of all, fairness. I can honestly say that I cannot tell which children are Mrs. P's favourites, and that is so so very important to the dynamic of the classroom. Everyone feels special and has a chance to excel despite past behaviour and work mistakes. I so admire that in Mrs. P.

3) There's a difference between "mother" and "teacher", even for young children. I have this tendancy towards doing too many things for kids, just because I care for them, and I've noticed that you can care without "mothering". In fact, I'm beginning to see that it's important that those two roles never be confused in a classroom, and that you don't have to act like a mother to show that you care for a child's well being and learning. I've caught myself picking up after kids who drop their pencils and erasers because they're not sitting down and doing their work properly, when I really should be asking them to pick up their stuff and get to work. I've also fixed the collar on a kid's jacket when it was caught inside out around his neck, and patted too many kids on the shoulder when it wasn't really necessary. I know these are minor examples, but they are warnings to me that might speak to a larger problem of mothering in places where I should be teaching, and encouraging kids to look after themselves whenever possible. And like the example of picking battles in number 1, some things, like a mixed up collar, take up precious energy that is better spent elsewhere, like getting these kids out the door to recess. All in all, I'm not too hard on myself with this one, though it may seem that way; give me a class to myself full time and those habits will quickly fade as my energy is consumed entirely just by teaching and getting those kids out the door!

That's all for now. More to come as I remember a few more important things I have learned so far.

Let's Begin Again...

I re-started my volunteer teaching assistant career today. It's been a year and a half since my last gig, and I'm glad to be back in the saddle, and a much shinier one at that. Compared to the last school, the one I'm at now is a dream. I'm assisting in the public school system again, but this school's neighbourhood is pretty affluent, and you can tell. Parents are a lot more involved in their children's education, the kids are much better behaved and there just seems to be a lot more stuff that they have access to. The teacher I'm working with is really kind and very patient, someone who clearly isn't "burned out" despite having been in the profession for 17 years. She has made me feel very welcome, and so have her kids. I'm really excited about the whole endeavour.

The first school I worked at was located in a lower-income/government housing type neighbourhood, and unfortunately the teachers I encountered there were as inspiring as a bowl of oatmeal. In fact, most of what I learned there came from observing what I did not want to be as a teacher. The kids were a bit older than the ones I'm working with now, and they weren't as bad as they could have been (in retrospect), but it was pretty obvious early on that they had had many years' experience in a system that taught them very little about manners, respect and how to focus on the task at hand. I got the chance to work with an entire class, rotated in groups of four, and noted that most of them had found ways of investing the minimum amount of energy required to get by. (I had learned how to do that when I was a kid as well, and I can tell you that it hasn't paid off.) Even the really intelligent ones were reluctant to put more energy into their work than they thought was absolutely necessary, and I would have sworn that the entire class was suffering from varying degrees of ADD (though I knew it was the atmosphere, not actual learning disabilities in most cases). The worst of it was that I was tutoring these kids so that they would perform better on the province-wide tests at the end of the school year. Asking them to think for themselves was like dragging them to the dentist, especially since they knew that the tests didn't count towards their report card marks, so their interest in performing well was practically non-existent. The teacher was so uninspiring, I was crying out in my head, "Please, stand up and teach these kids something! Don't sit behind your desk, reading instructions at them (ones you clearly hadn't read beforehand) and yelling when the kids aren't paying attention!! They're bored, I'M bored, and you clearly don't know the material nearly as well as you should!". To be fair, I could tell that the teacher really wanted the kids to learn and to benefit from their experience in school, but she just didn't know how to relate that hope and compassion through a teaching style that worked. She was just a mess, both physically, organizationally and professionally.

I also volunteered for half an afternoon a week in another class at the same school. The teacher of that class really had his heart in the right place, unfortunately he was in the wrong job in the wrong country. His heavy accent made him very difficult to understand, and he had absolutely no control over the kids. He was obviously unused to the kind of freedom (for better or worse) the kids have over here, and didn't know how to straighten them out once and for all. I can only think of one or two children who were able to sit down and do their own work for a reasonable length of time, and frankly, I couldn't blame any of them. The noise level was unbelievable for a class of 9-year-olds, and everyone was running around, yelling, fighting and doing everything but the task that had been asked of them. It was complete chaos, even when the teacher got the kids to finally settle down for all of 5 minutes; the back-talk and constant disruption was astounding.

I have so much more to add, but I gotta get this posted already!