#TeachingIs...What THEY Said...

       To celebrate TEACHERS May 5-9 and to join the social media movement with CTQ to do so, this Hope Street Group Teacher Fellow has been pondering a lot about what #TeachingIs. I just posted a blog entry with some of my thoughts (Paper, Meteor, Scissors...A Glimpse of What #TeachingIs), but it would be an injustice to let the opportunity go by without posting some thoughts of my ever so eloquent middle school students as well. I asked my 6th grade writers to simply finish the phrase "Teaching is...." with something other than a single adjective, and their responses have made me giggle. I thought you might want to see just how they define our profession....

There were those that made me chuckle and question my decision to join this career path...

• Teaching is so gross...you have to clean gum off of desks. 
• Teaching is like a social life. You meet lots of people, but they won't always like you. 
• Teaching is like the back of a messy car. The papers are always piled up.
• Teaching is putting the smart-mouthed children in the hall. (Who did it?!?!)
• Teaching is going to meetings and ruining people's lives.
• Teaching is totally crazy. Every year at least one kid throws up.  
• Teaching is the pain of having to write grades everyday. 
• Teaching is piles and piles of essays.
• Teaching is trying not to blow your top when a kid is being a turd. 
• Teaching is like zookeeping. They only think they have control. 
• Teaching is trying to cram bunches of useless knowledge into the little heads of some ungrateful snotbuckets. (No...seriously....don't hold back...)
• Teaching is helping kids to shut their pie hole. (This might be the gold medal winner :) )

There were those that gave me hope...

•  Teaching is like that annoying song that you hear on the radio everyday, but you just don't want to turn it off. 
• Teaching is making stupid into intelligence. (I'm still working on this one. :) )
• Teaching is a dictionary; it is full of meaning.
• Teaching is like eating leftovers. It gets better over time. 
• Teaching is inspiring young people to learn new things and grow up to do amazing things to help out the community.

There were those that made me go hmmm...

• Teaching is like cleaning your room. You try and cram everything in the closet, but sometimes it falls right back out. 
• Teaching is a learning requirement. (This one is really pretty deep. We KNOW they are learning....but what is the most influential teacher in their lives?)
• Teaching is an excuse to put off laundry because you have papers to grade. (There is a rather large pile in my abode...)
• Teaching is like a coconut. It takes a while to open up. (I should probably research this one on the beach.)
• Teaching is a specialty that you have to learn if you are ever going to have children. (So THAT'S the prerequisite we need to mandate... )

 There were those that made me proud...

• Teaching is like reading a book. When you start, you can't stop.
• Teaching is interacting with great students.
• Teaching is when you make your students want more. 

             Teaching is a desire to make children grow              and do what others cannot
             Teaching is a struggle of annoyance and thought.
             Teaching is hope for the kids
             And what's to come
             Teaching is a time to give
              Children some LOVE
           
There were those that made me smile...

• Teaching is sipping coffee to stay awake. (My students will forever connect writing to the scent of a fresh brew...)
• Teaching is listening to binders go ZIP! ZIP! ZIP! (Like seriously....every twelve and a half seconds)
• Teaching is hours and hours of planning and trying to find the perfect, challenging and fun lesson. 
• Teaching is like a new outfit....perfect. 
• Teaching is a gift. 
• Teaching is a creative thing.

There was that one (or maybe two) kid in class you know you all have....

• Teaching is a person spoonfeeding profound knowledge into the folds of our cerebrum that creates a promising future for humankind by proposing a positive insight of knowledge in preparation for us students. With information stored up we can use it to innovate and invent new/old products that will pose an easier lifestyle. With this, we students will thrive in information that will help life in the future. 
• Teaching is a comprehensive and expressive flow that travels through one's mind, ears, and eyes exploring the multitudinous points of life as your brain fluctuates through simmering waves of knowledge and unlocks the door into one's new and improved self to achievement and success as the world is revolving and evolving.

And there were those that made me realize the magnitude of this job...

• Teaching is like being the president. There is a lot of responsibility. 
• Teaching is helping students with life. 
• Teaching is the art of not only sharing your knowledge with your students, but also preparing them for all the obstacles that life will throw at them.  
• Teaching is the light to our future.
• Teaching is the idea behind everything.
• Teaching is being able to make a difference in today's world.

            Teaching is INSPIRING a young mind.
            Helping kids who are behind.
            Writing on paper that is lined
             To those kids you must be kind
             Seeing what info you can find.
             Knowing all of your students shined.
             Teaching is INSPIRING a young mind. 

From the mouths of babes, folks....

             

Paper, Meteor, Scissors.....A Glimse of What #TeachingIs....

      I got the short straw.  On that straw, I think I found just one of the many definitions of this profession we call teaching. In college, there were two professors who taught earth and space science, and each had a reputation that preceded him. There was one that "you just want." He was the one that was personable and kind and lavished good grades upon his students. And then, there was the one I found on my schedule when I got that aforementioned straw. He was the "impossible" professor on campus...the one who taught above heads and lived for his content...the one who, according to the rumor mill, prided himself on ruining GPAs of previously successful students and clouding dreams of even the most ambitious of pupils. After the pity party that was sure to commence in the head of anyone who "got" this guy, I took a deep breath, I mustered every ounce of energy I had to get through my least favorite subject of science, and I - the self proclaimed goody two shoes with a past of stellar grades and fabulous report cards - tried my best. And....I struggled. A lot. Like didn't want to get out of bed to go to class kind of struggled. Like showed up in the middle of the night to watch a meteor shower for a couple points of extra credit in the professor's backyard type of struggled.....excuse the grammar, but ain't nobody want to do that!
     At the end of the semester, the doc required a lengthy paper from each student detailing accounts of practically every exhausting topic we had covered throughout our months together. I completed that paper like a champ (or maybe like a shamed puppy with her ears hanging low who knew she had done wrong), said a prayer, and submitted it to the towering professor in hopes of simply not having to see him again the following semester. A few days passed, and then Dr. Earth and Space Science called my dorm room.....what teacher does that?!? Visions of my dad's hard-earned tuition money slipping through my fingers, into the campus fountain, and quickly down the drain began to fill my head as he told me that he would like to see me in his office about my paper. I panicked. My heart fell as I envisioned my first school failure becoming a reality.
    In his office, Dr. Earth and Space Science said something for which his reputation had not prepared me. "Lea Ann, I finished your paper. Through my reading, it became evident to me that......you have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what we have been talking about this semester." I could almost feel my self-confidence being ripped from my body, but then he continued. "However.....if I hadn't known better....I would have BELIEVED. EVERY. WORD. You have quite a gift for writing, Miss Atherton, and it sure sounds like you know what you are talking about. Don't get me wrong....you CLEARLY don't, but you almost sold even me. My wife is a writer, and I have grown to appreciate your craft. I am giving this paper an A." Tears came to my eyes as he said, "But, Miss Atherton, you have to promise me one thing. Promise me that in your future, you will do something with this writing thing. Between you and me, you might want to leave earth and space science alone, but writing....now that's where you may really have something."
      Dr. Earth and Space Science defined one of the responses to "Teaching Is..." that I carry with me into the classroom everyday. Maybe he never did make a scientist out of me, but he taught me enough to allow me squeak by with a B for the semester that made me prouder than many of the As I had received in the past. More than that, he assessed me not for my ability to climb that symbolic tree that Einstein has made us think so much about, but for my ability that he knew would eventually make my future what it is today.  He found "my" genius....and he encouraged the continuation and development of that. He let me be ME, and he even celebrated who that "me" was in the end.
     In my own classroom, some of my students want to be authors or journalists. Some of them don't...and that is okay. Teaching is digging into the personalities that show up at the door and finding ways to connect the classroom content to the genius in each of them. Sometimes it's as simple as making writing more about hunting and fishing and less about rules and stipulations. Sometimes it is providing an outlet for their most opinionated middle school voices to be heard. Sometimes it is making history come to life in the classroom for those war buffs before the narratives are written. Sometimes it's simply showing up at a game to support the part of them of which they are the most dedicated and proud. Teaching is finding individual talent and showing the student that through it, "they may really have something." And...on those days when all else fails, it's having them describe in a paragraph what they think a meteor shower might look like....and then having them describe the real thing in a detailed paragraph...for bonus points, of course.


* The Center for Teaching Quality and Hope Street Group are seeking your stories for what #TeachingIs. Share yours at www.teachingquality.org/teachingis

Tulips, Laughter, Lace, and Vintage Goodbyes

This blog was going to be designated for classroom stories only, but today I make an exception! I had a substitute teacher in my class last week as my family said "See ya later," to my grandmother...a legacy, lady, and life story like no other.  The following thoughts were just a few I pulled together to be read at her funeral. I hope my students realize that the best subjects for their writing are the people and places that make up their "everyday." There are stories all around if only they ask the right questions and open their eyes to see....

Family.  You get absolutely no say in them. You don’t get to pick. You find yourself at family reunions and holiday gatherings, and – let’s be honest – everyone in this room at times has wondered how you could possibly even be related to these people! But then…out of nowhere, you get these glimpses of just what unconditional family is all about, and you are thankful to have a last name that makes you a part of their group.

Today may not be about him, but I think he is worth mentioning. I never got to meet my grandfather. I heard stories about William Howard Atherton.  I watched my own dad swell with pride talking about him. I saw pictures. I even found his name on one of the memorials in Washington, D.C.  But…I never met him…and oh, he has missed so much. When he left this world, he left behind a wife and five kids to survive on their own without him….and the way they have lived those lives probably has surpassed what he ever even hoped or imagined for them.

Clara….my Memaw…would have made him breathtakingly proud. With a pair of scissors and a couple hundred cans of hairspray, she mastered the bouffant and the beehive to make a better life for her kids.  With her famous sage dressing or her unmatched coconut cake, she lured families in to be together during the holidays.  She gave her grandchildren the childhood adventure that we simply called “The Cabin.” Wearing that vintage green terry cloth jacket, she could fish off the pontoon by morning and make taco stacks by night….all things that are missed each and every time the cabin is open these days. She hosted Easter egg hunts. She planted tulips. She bowled. She quilted. She yardsaled like a champ even before HGTV made it the cool vintage thing to do. She traveled. She brought back some pretty interesting souvenirs from her travels. She had arguments with H.L. that would make a grown man giggle.  She asked about “special friends.” Let’s be real….she is STILL asking some of us about those today.  She had fun.  She took risks….both through her bright, sparkly fashion statements and through the ever so unique pink curb appeal of her home. More importantly, she took risks in life… and she encouraged others to do the same.

The greatest of her legacy, though…the part that would bring my grandfather the most pride…is seated in the pews today. My Memaw raised heroes. Not the kind that wear capes and masks, but the kind that show up in the cold to help you start your car. The kind that prove to you that your oversized furniture WILL fit up the stairs in your new house if you just have the right team to get it there. The kind of heroes that go out of their way to help strangers. The kind that are the first to speak when they see people they know, and the kind that continue to speak highly of those people even after they walk away.  The kind that share anything and everything with anybody and everybody. The kind of heroes that not only say, “Call me if you need help,” but that show up to help without ever being called. The kind that show up at the ER knowing that the visitor limit doesn’t seem to take into account the Mom-to-children ratio of the family. The kind that still ask each other to hunt and fish and even golf… knowing all along that some siblings are better at that golf thing than others. The kind of risk-taking heroes that will somewhat patiently let a daughter take 8,000 pictures in the boat…even when the fish are biting. The kind of heroes that give time and effort and security like it will never run out.  When people say, “Oh, he’s one of the good ones,” or “Oh, she’s one of the good ones,” they are clearly talking about people like Memaw’s kids, and those kids just weren’t raised by accident.

He certainly would have been proud everyday of the people Memaw raised, but the past few years would have made my grandfather the proudest of all. His children…sacrificed. They sacrificed time and events and sleep to make sure that their Mom received the best possible care. They bathed her. They fed her. They knew the people at hospitals certainly meant well, but they just didn’t have the touch or the patience of Memaw’s own children. They stayed with her. They talked to her. They bought her snazzy pajamas to make sure her fashion streak continued. They scheduled and attended doctor’s appointments that were necessary. They scheduled and attended beautician appointments that might not have been necessary, but that they knew would have been more important to her than the ones at the doc.  They made certain of her attendance at family gatherings. From Derby hats to patriotic stripes, when they brought her to a party, they made sure she dressed the part. They made her comfortable. They included her. They celebrated her milestones and rallied together during her setbacks.  Even in her last moments, I think she was right where she wanted to be. Some said it would be serene for her if she went in her sleep, but she wasn’t going to have that! Memaw would have expected absolutely nothing less than to be riding shotgun down Clinton Road one last time sitting next to her son. Simply put, my Memaw raised her children to appreciate HOME, and they surrounded her with it to the very end.

No, I never got to meet my grandfather. I didn’t get to hear his words, watch his expressions, or tap into his thoughts….and yet this I know. He and Memaw created a family that the grandkids aren’t just proud to be related to, but one we are immensely proud to call our HOME. My grandfather would have looked at his children sitting in these pews today, and he would have been the one swelling with pride. When he couldn’t do the job himself, those Atherton kids took the BEST care of his bride.  I can almost hear him say... “You can rest now, kids. You did good….you did really… really good.”