First Week Teaching In Greensboro

      The first week of school I literally can't stand the sound of my own voice anymore. Granted, my vocal stamina is DOWN so I lose it much faster the first week. Spouting out orders and drilling procedures is enough to drive a girl crazy. The first couple classes I think, this isn't so bad! I've got a great yet simple disciplinary action plan and timed-out procedures that make Captain Von Trapp look like an amateur (that's a home school reference)- all we do is DRILL. "Standing position- Go" scrambling, checking the blue lines on the floor, straightening up their desks. "Listening position- Go!" more scrambling, some stifled laughs, some "shhhh she'll hear you!" and then we do it all again! Classroom teachers focus on this too, true, but I have to do the SAME first day lesson EVERY single period all week. By the end of the 35th class on Friday, I'm ready to jump off a cliff. 

      Here's the thing, I didn't realize how much of a "city teacher" I was till teachers started commenting on how regimented my classroom was, "wow-straight lines..that's different." Is it? I thought that was normal. "I find I need to be strict with him, and it looks like you do too so I'm glad we're on the same page," I got from one teacher. I smiled, but inside I was thinkin "uh- strict? That was me being normal." Might need to tame the sargent in me a little...hey gotta do what you gotta do to survive in philly what!

      I am rediscovering this incredible passion I've been suppressing for the past several months. I am passionate about giving kids a place to use their imaginations. Sounds so simple, but the imagination needs to be used and practiced or else it disappears.
      When I was younger I would pretend everything, everywhere, with everyone. HA, I would pretend a rock was a diamond, a feather was a lock of Rapunzel's hair, a clump of mud was a chocolate pie from the bakery that I existed next to our woodpile. Don't get me started on the "CCIA" Detective Club to which I was a member (another home school reference-disregard.) In the sixth grade I asked for Offenbach's Tales of Hoffman  (a french opera) for Christmas because I wanted to make up a story. I would come up with these intricate ballets that told elaborate stories of pirates, princesses, talking flowers, fairies; pretty much any fantastical tale I could create. When do adults lose that? The ability to actually see something fantastic in our minds and create it for ourselves. The ability to see something that isn't there; the ability to create your own reality
      I do this exercise with my kids where they can only move from their waste up and they have to tell a story with their movements using the music. At first they look so scared, are we allowed to actually move? Are people looking? Will I look stupid? But there is this unbelievably beautiful moment when their human inhibitions fly out the window and they release themselves into the music. I will tell them, "I guarantee that I will look more ridiculous than any person in this room, so be as big as you want." They always laugh but swiftly realize that I'm serious in saying I'm more outrageous than any one of them. This fact, it gives them a little comfort. On Friday, I played Ugg a Wugg from the musical Peter Pan and they ate it up. "Miss VP this is the most fun class we have ever had. EVER." That song is a keeper.
      

      

      I also decided that I regret introducing the human keyboard to them because I'm soooooo tired by the end of the day after I do that with them. You see, I jump on "do" and they have to sing it back to me every time I land. "Do...do...do,do,do,do....re, do-re, do-re-do-re-do..." I stop when I'm panting for air. leaping and jumping back and forth from Me to Do gets tiring. I dread the day I introduce Sol la or ti.

      Anyway, this was a very disjointed post- the future posts will be less about me, more stories about the kids.

Peace.