I'm curled up on our couch with a cup of peppermint tea and dinner.
I was counting on a snow day, so instead of grading, I made homemade chicken tenders (coated with crushed corn chips) with homemade french fries and Annie's Cowgirl Ranch. Yum, yum, yum. Then I dyed my hair. And THEN, I finally got the call: SNOW DAY TOMORROW!
And the first thought that crossed my mind was this: "Yesssss. Maybe I can finish my book tomorrow!"
Let me tell you how I found this book. It's kind of a long story.
Fall 2010: I was student teaching in a sixth grade Language Arts class, and my cooperating teacher (who was and is one of my teaching heros) did independent reading with her kids. Her classroom had bookshelves full of all kinds of books. Students could check books out from her and keep them as long as they wanted. We also went to the library a couple times a month. It was amazing.
I learned that she had read The Book Whisperer by Donnalyn Miller...when I left that placement, she gave me this book (this is one of many reasons why she is one of my ultimate teaching heros).
I can't say enough good things about it; I have read and reread it at least ten times.
Fall 2010: I switch student teaching placements and try to implement independent reading at my new school, a high school of...rougher kids. I have both regular English and Advanced English classes. I didn't think it through. I didn't plan very well. But it still went ok.
Well, actually, it turned into naptime for most students. Yikes.
Fall 2011: I have a teaching job! ALL OF MY KIDS WILL LOVE READING! WE WILL READ EVERY DAY, ALL THE TIME!
October 2011: Screw this independent reading.
My kids won't do it. I have an SOL in here. I don't have time for this. I'm a failure.
August 2012: I reread The Book Whisperer and realized that I CAN do independent reading with my students...I just need to be better prepared.
September 2012: It's the first day of school. I'm so nervous, probably more nervous than the kids. I'm teaching three 12th-grade classes (no SOL test in these classes) and two 11th grade classes (with an SOL). But my syllabus says all my students in both classes will read, so...here goes...
Student reactions were as follows:
"HAHAHAHA! We're going to read? Good luck with THAT!"
"I haven't read a book in years."
"I hate reading. No way I'm doin' this."
"Can I read Dr. Seuss?"
March 2012:
"Mrs. Suders! Are we reading today? We haven't read all week!"
"Mrs. Suders, I'm already done with my second book...can I go to the library and get another one?"
"What do you mean we're only reading for thirty minutes? Can we read for an hour?"
"I rushed through my work in my other classes today so I could read. THIS BOOK IS SO GOOD."
And, finally, to tell you how I found the book I'm reading (The Alchemyst by Michael Scott, if anyone's interested).
"Mrs. Suders, you HAVE to read this book. It is so good. Seriously, I know you are going to Barnes and Noble this weekend because you tell us you go every weekend. You have to get it."
So, I did. Because in these moments when we talk about books, we are no long teacher-student.
We are speaking reader to reader, debating the ending of Perks of a Wallflower or agreeing that the book My Sister's Keeper is SO much better than the movie adaptation.
So tomorrow, I hope to finish (or at least make significant progress in) The Alchemyst. I want my kids to know I listen to them. Their opinions are important to me. I care about them.
And I LOVE that they are becoming readers, and I hope they will be readers even after they leave my classroom. May we bump into each other at book fairs and Barnes and Noble for years to come.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
The GF Plunge
Ugh.
I was hoping I wouldn't have to write this.
But here goes.
For many, many years, I have felt like my digestive system hates me. Cramping, bloating, and all other sorts of yuckiness have pestered me since at least late middle school, and even before that, I think I had a pretty sensitive stomach.
There have been nights I can't sleep because my stomach feels like its tying itself into knots. Or days that have been ruined by too many (or not enough) bathroom trips.
There have been numerous dietary changes. No red meat- that's been since high school.
Very, very limited soda- also since high school.
No dairy-I've done that on and off.
I'm trying to stay away from soy, but for this to be successful, STARBUCKS needs to get ALMOND MILK.
I've researched, I've talked to health care professionals, I've talked to friends and acquaintances who have had similar issues and experiences.
And the same suggestion kept surfacing: "You should try going gluten free."
So here I am. Not because it's a fad or trend, but because I am desperate for something to work.
It's been ok so far (I can feel a difference, or so I think, although I've read it takes a month or two to get gluten fully out of your system).
It's only been three days, and my diet consists of chicken, fruits, veggies, egg whites, sprouted English muffins (not 100% GF, but the gluten is kind of "pre-digested" and therefore easier on the gut), delicious GF cookies from Trader Joe's, rice crackers, hummus, fish, shrimp. I take Kind bars with me everywhere, because I'm gone at least 10 hours a day and only pack one full meal for the day. I'm not good at planning meals yet.
I can see where it'll get tough, though. People will probably think I'm rude for refusing their homemade cookies or a cup of beer from a pitcher they bought. They'll think I'm more weird than I am. I'll probably have to take my own food places.
I have a whole new respect for people who do this stuff. Seriously, y'all are awesome.
What dietary restrictions do you have? How do you deal with them??
I was hoping I wouldn't have to write this.
But here goes.
For many, many years, I have felt like my digestive system hates me. Cramping, bloating, and all other sorts of yuckiness have pestered me since at least late middle school, and even before that, I think I had a pretty sensitive stomach.
There have been nights I can't sleep because my stomach feels like its tying itself into knots. Or days that have been ruined by too many (or not enough) bathroom trips.
There have been numerous dietary changes. No red meat- that's been since high school.
Very, very limited soda- also since high school.
No dairy-I've done that on and off.
I'm trying to stay away from soy, but for this to be successful, STARBUCKS needs to get ALMOND MILK.
I've researched, I've talked to health care professionals, I've talked to friends and acquaintances who have had similar issues and experiences.
And the same suggestion kept surfacing: "You should try going gluten free."
So here I am. Not because it's a fad or trend, but because I am desperate for something to work.
It's been ok so far (I can feel a difference, or so I think, although I've read it takes a month or two to get gluten fully out of your system).
It's only been three days, and my diet consists of chicken, fruits, veggies, egg whites, sprouted English muffins (not 100% GF, but the gluten is kind of "pre-digested" and therefore easier on the gut), delicious GF cookies from Trader Joe's, rice crackers, hummus, fish, shrimp. I take Kind bars with me everywhere, because I'm gone at least 10 hours a day and only pack one full meal for the day. I'm not good at planning meals yet.
I can see where it'll get tough, though. People will probably think I'm rude for refusing their homemade cookies or a cup of beer from a pitcher they bought. They'll think I'm more weird than I am. I'll probably have to take my own food places.
I have a whole new respect for people who do this stuff. Seriously, y'all are awesome.
What dietary restrictions do you have? How do you deal with them??
Sunday, March 17, 2013
We Got Somewhere.
On Friday, I typed out a huge, long, ranty, negative post about how depressing the day was. It was lunch time, and I was eating my Amy's organic spinach lasagna alone in my room because sometimes I just need peace and quiet and time to decompress. So I ranted in a blog post and then had the sense to hit "Save" instead of "Publish."
But then after lunch, my kids came back. They're seniors, but the ones who will struggle to make it through community college, just because of life circumstances and choices. They're the ones who tell each other to "shut the hell up" even when I tell them not to, so I have to rescript them. The ones who are already having babies and working part time to help their families pay bills. The ones who sometimes don't have anything to eat, so I always keep granola bars in my classroom so they can have a snack throughout the day.
They're also the ones who HATE POETRY. We've been trying to scan iambic pentameter and trochaic tetrameter and anapestic trimeter for a couple weeks now. We've been trying to ANALYZE figurative language, not just identify it. We've been trying to differentiate between exact, slant, and eye rhyme.
They just don't get it. It's tough for them. And they don't see how it's relevant to their lives because, well, frankly, it's not. They tell me that poetry "sucks" and is "stupid," and I commend them on their skillful alliteration.
But poetry can be so ENRICHING that I just feel compelled to expose it to them so a poem can breathe life into them, so it can hold their hands and lead them to exotic and breathtaking places, so it can punch them in the gut so they can't breathe.
Well, Friday, we had a little breakthrough. We read the following sonnet:
And at the end, one of my students goes, "That was really beautiful."
I didn't want her to see that I had tears in my eyes. She gave me a glimmer of hope on a day when I felt like I am making zero difference in these kids' lives. Yes, I love teaching, but it's so depressing sometimes. Sometimes it feels like I'm a bumper car, stuck in a corner, ramming myself against walls and other cars to try and get somewhere, but staying in the same place.
But Friday, we got somewhere. Praise the Lord, hallelujah, we got somewhere.
But then after lunch, my kids came back. They're seniors, but the ones who will struggle to make it through community college, just because of life circumstances and choices. They're the ones who tell each other to "shut the hell up" even when I tell them not to, so I have to rescript them. The ones who are already having babies and working part time to help their families pay bills. The ones who sometimes don't have anything to eat, so I always keep granola bars in my classroom so they can have a snack throughout the day.
They're also the ones who HATE POETRY. We've been trying to scan iambic pentameter and trochaic tetrameter and anapestic trimeter for a couple weeks now. We've been trying to ANALYZE figurative language, not just identify it. We've been trying to differentiate between exact, slant, and eye rhyme.
They just don't get it. It's tough for them. And they don't see how it's relevant to their lives because, well, frankly, it's not. They tell me that poetry "sucks" and is "stupid," and I commend them on their skillful alliteration.
But poetry can be so ENRICHING that I just feel compelled to expose it to them so a poem can breathe life into them, so it can hold their hands and lead them to exotic and breathtaking places, so it can punch them in the gut so they can't breathe.
Well, Friday, we had a little breakthrough. We read the following sonnet:
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
And at the end, one of my students goes, "That was really beautiful."
I didn't want her to see that I had tears in my eyes. She gave me a glimmer of hope on a day when I felt like I am making zero difference in these kids' lives. Yes, I love teaching, but it's so depressing sometimes. Sometimes it feels like I'm a bumper car, stuck in a corner, ramming myself against walls and other cars to try and get somewhere, but staying in the same place.
But Friday, we got somewhere. Praise the Lord, hallelujah, we got somewhere.
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