Confidence in Communication

What advice would you give new middle school parents?

Teach your child to ask their teachers questions. Even if they are your questions. They need to learn now how to communicate with their teachers, not rely on their parents to do it. Was that harsh? ~Lisa Riccardi (Parent of college sophomore and high school freshman)

I should also note that Lisa worked as a substitute teacher in my middle school for a few years, and she hit the nail on the head. Don't send notes to your child's teacher if the child can communicate the question himself/herself. Confidential questions withstanding, I'd much rather listen and answer the child. Truthfully, it's just quicker! Building good communication skills is important, and this is the best place to start.

Lisa later added,

Communication with teachers is a good practice for communication with all adults in the future. 'Teachers' are a good place to start this valuable skill.

Yes! When this generation of young people is constantly looking down at a cell phone screen, you have to be concerned about those face-to face moments. Where else are they going to learn this skill?

Before your child starts middle school...

Right after school ended this year, I was sitting at the ballpark when a friend was rehashing the events of her son's sixth grade year. You know me! I'm a captive audience for such a conversation. Most of it was good, but she mentioned a few hiccups along the way. At one point, she said, "I wish I had known." Well, that got my wheels turning. I do know. I live it. Why can't I help other parents? So, here we are.

Recently, I posed the question to my friends, family members, and former parents. Specifically, I asked these two questions:

1. What do you wish you'd known before your child started middle school?
2. What advice would you give to a brand new middle school parent?

In the next few weeks, I'll share their wisdom with you. Also, note the age of the student/adult. Sometimes it helps to read and relate to people who have a similar background. The further away from the middle school years, the parent will bring a different perspective.

As always, thanks for reading!

Today's THE day!

OK, so I didn't post this year like I wanted. Planning, grading papers, and attempting to be creative have taken all my time. Unfortunately, my professional blog took a backseat. (Better this than my parenting!) I'm not giving up, though! After today, it's over. Yep, it's state standardized testing day. I'm a language arts teacher, and today, my students take that portion of the test. Every lesson I've taught, every strategy created, every modification made, every decision thought out

comes
down
to
today.
Aaaaaaaaaargh!!!!!!!!!

At breakfast this morning, my 4th grader was so aware of my tenseness that she felt the need to tell me she thinks I'm a good teacher. I hope she's right, because I don't "feel" good. As a matter of fact, I feel sick. As she gets out of the car, she smiles and wishes me luck; I tell her I'd feel better if she were one of my students.

Once at school, I visit my language arts partner. She's a young teacher, but she feels confident. Her only question addresses whether she should pass out candy. I tell her I do, because research shows that sucking on a piece of hard candy helps you concentrate.

As classes are getting settled, I make it a point to visit a few key students: the two boys who "Christmas treed" the practice test and a few more that may need a little confidence boost. I'm all too aware that his or her mood could mean everything today.

Now, I'm sitting at my desk watching my homeroom take the test. It's an accelerated class. They are making me feel better. They are smart and confident; I know they'll do well. They've worked hard this year, and I'm proud of them. I still stress over them because their scores were already high. They need to make a decent amount of growth this year, but that's difficult when some of them are already in the 99th percentile.

One of my lowest students in this class finishes first with half the time to spare. He pretends to look over his answers. I make a mental note to pay close attention to his data when scores return.

A good third of this class has a cold or allergies. I've passed out a ton of tissues. I love to be made to read a bunch of boring passages when I have a dripping nose...don't you?

During the testing break, the teacher across the hall noted that one of my highest students in her homeroom only used 25 out of the 76 minutes she was allotted. Confidence or arrogance?

We have had our break, and now we are starting part 2. I brought a good supply of my favorite protein bars and chocolate dipped granola bars for them to eat during the break. Almost all of them are gone.

Bellies are full, candy has been replenished, teacher has been talked off the ledge.

Watching my iPhone timer, I realize that in a matter of 62 minutes, it is over. For me, it all comes down to one test on one day.

Did I do enough?
Could I have done more?
What should I do differently next year?

21:09 left. My nerves have finally gotten the best of me, and I'm off to the restroom (TMI, I know!). Most of the kids have finished the second part, and the finality is setting in. What's done is done.

I'm able to start thinking about the rest of the week. I've collected a short set of standards from my colleagues that I know I can help review for math, science, and social studies portions of TCAP. I'll do math today since that test is tomorrow. I'm excited that my language arts partner will be combining classes with me today so we can review the kids together and do some co-planning for the rest of the year.

When the short scores return, we'll comb through each score and plan some more. We'll note our strengths and weaknesses and design a plan that will supplement those deficits. The data will tell a story. Is it reliable?

2:23 left. The kids are getting squirrely. Nothing more to do today. Now, we'll begin the 7th grade curriculum to give them a confidence boost into the next school year.

0:00 Language arts portion of the TCAP is over. Another teacher tells me that one of my boys fell asleep twice during the first part of the test. Child sleeping through the test DOES NOT equal teacher accountability, but I will have to answer for his scores.

Group Posters From Our Study Skills Unit

Remembering NINE11

For me, September 11, 2001, is simply unforgettable.

*Note: Times are all on Central time, since it follows my personal timeline.

7:46 AM               Flight 11 hit the first tower.

It was a beautiful Tennessee morning, and time passed without incident. We were about five weeks into the new school year, and I was in the middle of a low key literature lesson in first period. My students and I had finally settled into a routine My biggest problem that morning was the drained feeling I had as a result of my new pregnancy.

“I could see the big airplane coming straight toward us.” ~Connie Labetti, AON, South Tower, 99^th Floor

“Hi Jules, it’s Brian. Listen, I’m on an airplane that’s been hijacked.” ~Brian Sweeney, passenger on Flight 175.

At 8:59 am, Flight 175 passenger Brian Sweeney, 29, leaves a message for his wife Julie. He then calls his mother, Louise, to report the hijacking, telling her that the passengers are considering storming the cockpit to wrest control from the hijackers.

8:03 AM               Flight 175 hit the South Tower

I hear a knock on my portable door around 9:00. As I open the door, I’m told to lock up. He doesn’t tell me why, but it’s safe to assume that somebody must have robbed a gas station, and is still at large. Slightly irritated at the inconvenience; nonetheless, I do as I am told.

Within minutes of Flight 11’s crash, the FDNY raises its mobilization to the highest level.  Many firefighters are already responding to the World Trade Center when hijacked Flight 175 hits the South Tower.

8:37 AM               Flight 77 hit the Pentagon

I’m still completely oblivious as second period begins. I’m making sure Sam is on the right page in his novel, and Loren says she needs a pencil.

The Pentagon's on-site firehouse responds immediately to the crash of Flight 77. Firefighters from nearby National Airport (with a foam truck designed to fight jet fuel fires) and Virginia's Arlington County Fire Department arrive within minutes.

Many civilian employees and military personnel evacuate the building shortly after the impact, while others felt compelled to rush into the burning building to rescue trapped and injured colleagues.

It’s another hour before I’m aware my country is under attack. The shock and disbelief only proliferate as the teachers gather to eat lunch and watch the news coverage. We are asked not to discuss anything with the students. That is easy. What do I say to my students anyway? New York is a long way from Tennessee. It might as well be on Mars. Can this generation actually grasp the seriousness of terrorist assaults? As of THIS moment, our lives are forever changed.

Mark Bingham is one the thirteen Flight 93 passengers who succeed in placing a phone call to authorities or loved ones on the ground. 

Mark calls his mother, Alice Hoagland, a former flight attendant, via GTE Airphone, and alerts her to the hijacking.  Hoagland immediately turns on the television and learns of the recent attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.  Realizing that Mark’s plane is part of the suicide hijacking mission, she calls him back on his cell phone and leaves two messages, informing him of the other attacks and counseling him to do whatever he can to stop the hijackers.

[Mark never receives the messages. His flight crashes in Somerset, Pennsylvania.]

10 Years Later: September 11, 2011

Ten years later, my daughter, who was born in February of 2002, is nine years old. She and I were in Wal-Mart a few days ago when the latest version of People Magazine caught my eye. The title read, “The Children of 9/11: Their fathers died on that terrible day, before they were born.” The article features the personal account of each of the ten children and how their lives have been affected by the 9/11 tragedy. That’s when it hit me.

Those children are her age. <Gulp> What if SHE never knew her daddy? He’s such a huge force in her life. What if SHE never had a picture made with him holding her? She would have never truly seen how much he loves her. What if he was absent for that “first day of school” picture? There are too many questions with no conceivable answers.

I want to explain. I want to tell her that I lied about the “monsters” not being real. They DO exist...just LOOK! But...not today. One day.

I want her to be exposed to the stories these children tell in the article. She must not ever take her family and friends for granted. But...I choose to protect her innocence for as long as I can. She’ll learn about the monsters soon enough. 

There are moments when my personal and professional lives truly collide. A lot of things happened that fateful day in September. Daddies died. Mommies died. Sisters and brothers died. Wars started. Gas prices became preposterous. Airports security became ludicrous. Ultimately, my daughter and these 9/11 kids started their lives under the observance of the National Homeland Security Advisory System.

Now fourth graders, Liz and the 9/11 children will be in middle school in two short years. Middle school is a fragile time of development. After teaching 11 year olds for 17 years, I am anticipating the pain that will inevitably surround them as pre-adolescence dances into their lives.

I’m not sure parents realize how much their adolescents need them, because their children seem to be pushing them away. However, the “push” is like a game of hide and go seek. Today, they’ll hide their immature, childlike ways, to go seek who they are apart from their parents. Tomorrow, they’ll return to childhood for reassurance that they are on the right track. The lost will look, and sometimes ask for direction again. My daughter will be able to do that, but where will these children go when Dad is the only one that will do? Just thinking about the uncertainty of this time unnerves me. They will figure it out eventually, and be better people for it, but that will be an uphill dirt road. God, bless the strong people in each and every one of those children’s lives.

Parents, may we never take for granted how fragile life can be. Every game of hide-and-go-seek takes that child one step closer to adulthood. Cherish the trial-and-error that is necessary for that development. Finally, when you do get frustrated, because you WILL, just remember the 9/11 children and enjoy even life’s most childish games.  

*Special thanks to the 9/11 Interactive Timeline for the information in red.  This site was designed and engineered by Archetype for the National September 11 Memorial and Museum.

Giants, Wizards, Dwarfs...and Mermaids?

Robert Fulghum is a writer, philosopher, and public speaker. You may remember him as the author of the popular poem "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." He also wrote a book with the same title that contains lots of mini stories. I read the following story, "Mermaids," to my Exploratory class this week. When I finished, I asked them to tell me about the little girl. Their answers, written below, might surprise you. Read it and think to yourself how you would describe the mermaid.

Mermaids

By Robert Fulghum

Giants, wizards and dwarfs was the game to play.

Being left in charge of about eighty children seven to ten years old, while their parents were off doing parenty things, I mustered my troops in the church social hall and explained the game.  It's a large-scale version of Rock, Paper, and Scissors, and involves some intellectual decision making.  But the real purpose of the game is to make a lot of noise and run around chasing people until nobody knows which side you are on or who won.

Organizing a roomful of wired-up gradeschoolers into two teams, explaining the rudiments of the game, achieving consensus on group identity--all this is no mean accomplishment, but we did it with a right good will and were ready to go.

The excitement of the chase had reached a critical mass.  I yelled out:  "You have to decide now which you are--a GIANT, a WIZARD, or a DWARF!"

While the groups huddled in frenzied, whispered consultation, a tug came at my pants leg.  A small child stands there looking up, and asks in a small, concerned voice, "Where do the Mermaids stand?"

Where do the Mermaids stand?

A long pause.  A very long pause.  "Where do the Mermaids stand?" says I.

"Yes.  You see, I am a Mermaid."

"There are no such thing as Mermaids."

stands there looking up, and asks in a small, concerned voice, "Where do the Mermaids stand?"

Where do the Mermaids stand?

A long pause.  A very long pause.  "Where do the Mermaids stand?" says I.

"Yes.  You see, I am a Mermaid."

"There are no such thing as Mermaids."

"Oh, yes, I am one!"

She did not relate to being a Giant, a Wizard, or a Dwarf.  She knew her category.  Mermaid.  And was not about to leave the game and go over and stand against the wall where a loser would stand.  She intended to participate, wherever Mermaids fit into the scheme of things.  Without giving up dignity or identity.  She took it for granted that there was a place for Mermaids and that I would know just where.

Well, where DO the Mermaids stand?  All the "Mermaids"--all those who are different, who do not fit the norm and who do not accept the available boxes and pigeonholes?

Answer that question and you can build a school, a nation, or a world on it.

What was my answer at the moment?  Every once in a while I say the right thing.  "The Mermaid stands right here by the King of the Sea!" says I.  (Yes, right here by the King's Fool, I thought to myself.)

So we stood there hand in hand, reviewing the troops of Wizards and Giants and Dwarfs as they roiled by in wild disarray.

It is not true, by the way, that Mermaids do not exist.  I know at least one personally.  I have held her hand.

Tell me about the little girl. Middle schoolers answers:

"Crazy!" (as he circles his finger around the side of his ear several times)

Someone made the cuckoo sound.

<Teacher's eyebrows go up>

"She belongs in an asylum."

<Teacher adds big eyeballs>

"Not like the others!" (Disgusted and confused look on his face.)

Finally, a girl from the back quietly stated the word "Independent."

<hopeful sigh>

Now, I did NOT read this story to them for the purpose of highlighting what sassy little girls do to annoy adults, but they did not naturally infer that logic. No sireee! They assumed I was reading the story to illustrate what not to do. Once I got over the shock, I realized how much sense they made.

Middle school is about conforming; therefore, their responses are naturally middle schoolish. Don't you remember? Most likely, you watched the behaviors of the people around you just so you would know what to do and how to act. As the pre-adolescent struggles to move away from his/her parents, he or she begins to grasp for a different anchor. At this stage in their lives, that may come from their peers. The outliers are the ones more determined to make their own way-whether that's positive or negative.

Is the ability to conform necessary? Yes, I think so. There are times in our lives that we must learn to do the accepted thing, obey the rules, or play the game. I’m just a big fan of the ones that dare to be different.

I want them to like and be grateful for who they are.

Individuality should be appreciated and celebrated. The sad truth is I’ve been fighting this battle for 17 years, and I’m no closer than I was 17 years ago <sigh>. Society encourages conformity. Media encourages conformity. Even some parents encourage conformity. We may want to be the mermaid, even crave it, but I suppose that must wait until we get through the Giants, Wizards, and Dwarfs stage of life.

Final Days

My days as an Instructional Coach are winding down. As I prepare to say goodbye to the teachers I've served for two years, I'm forced into reflection mode. My thoughts?

The County Alternative School
I will miss the peace, tranquility, control, and smallness of your promise land. Thank you for sacrificing to work with our at-risk youth. As reigning Queen of student migration, you know differentiation better than most. Even though you operate on limited funding and resources, you make it work. We, the general public, fail to show our appreciation for your efforts to reform the behaviors of our children. I've never heard you complain...never!

Drugs, alcohol, media, and negative life experiences have control of many teens today, but you welcome the challenge. You empower them to gain control just enough to walk back into the world they can't trust. Will it forsake them again? Most likely, yes. But this time, they'll have the tools to survive.

On behalf of my colleagues,
Thank you, thank you, thank you!



To my most northern friends up on the hill:

Just to have the opportunity to experience your school environment was a rare pleasure! You should be proud of the strong sense of community you foster every day. No wonder so many of your own graduates return to teach there- a whole line of them this year! Where else could that possibly happen? They KNOW you care about them and want them to succeed. Then they come back to be a part of that support system.

Oh, and I get it. What other school would have people who would drive up to the school at 7:00pm just to help their new Instructional Coach dumpster dive for her wedding ring? I do believe we touched every last piece of trash in the dumpster and then in the school. Thank you for laughing when I called 5 minutes after I left to tell you I found the ring under my car seat. I do adore you, my trashy friends!

Administration. WOW! I truly felt like part of your team. I learned so much from watching you work. Everything you did focused of the needs of the students. Your attentiveness and passion for meeting those needs was noticed. One criticism: You need to be kicking those talented teachers down the hill more often to share with the rest of us in PD sessions. Don't let them hide!

...and Staffulty? I have three words for you: Be the Best!


To my school of soldiers:

It was humbling to walk into your school, get a bird's eye view of the battle field in front of you, and watch you conquer it. Thanks to your fearless leader, I knew just enough about your plight to know I had to be a good listener to survive in your school. At each turn, you asked, "What now? What next?" Oh, let's do a pilot program for the county! LOL! I thought y'all were crazy...but, alas <sigh>, you were focused.

To the head honcho: Your talks were some of my favorite memories! Not too many people have the ability to tell a story like you do. It helps that you're so much like my dad. I learned a lot about loyalty, pride, and the fierce desire to protect your own. Not too many principals know their faculty and students like you do. Most of all, thanks for keeping it real!

To the AP: Where do I start, my friend? I wish I had just half of your calm, cool, and collected demeanor. It's been a pleasure to watch you lead. I'm not sure you have any concept of how impressed other schools are with your new program and, as we implement it into my home school, how well you executed the plans you were given. Oh, and I promise to give you credit for all the great things I've stolen from you the past two years.

To my Shurley girls: "What's that?" you say. "You've been teaching for 20+ years, and you want to try a brand new program before you retire?" REALLY? Who does that? Hmmm...you do!  I had a blast in your rooms! Thank you for sharing your students with me. I was most comfortable in your classrooms, because you allowed me to do what I do best-English to a beat.

Speaking of English, I would be remiss to not mention the one we lost. Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to watch her teach. This profession lost so much that day!

Thank you for trusting me, opening the doors of your classroom, and treating me as one of your own. Being willing to try new things in the midst of obstacles takes guts- the kind only the bravest soldiers can muster.

************************************************

One more school to mention, but I think I'll have to have more time...a lot more. I'll be back later, so stay tuned!