classroom notes #20: growing as a teacher

"You are a good student."

Recently I said this to a P.2 student who I kept behind during recess because he had been acting up in my class. I sat down as I talked to him so I could look into his eyes as I told him his worth.

"I KNOW you are very clever and smart. I KNOW you are good."

I said it emphatically because I know my student and I know his potential.

What I didn't know was the effect that this simple praise would have on him. His eyes started to well up and he smiled shyly as he used his sleeves to wipe away his tears, all the while standing tall. You read about touching teaching moments in books like Chicken Soup for the Teacher's Soul or something, but as a teacher, lecturing day in and day out, repeating instructions for the infinite time, one tends to forget the power of words.

When I was in primary school, the district tried to implement a new programme to raise students' self-esteem and build up self-worth. Every morning we were suppose to look into the mirror and tell ourselves out loud, "You are good, you are great and everyday we try our best." But as children on the cusp of the teenage years, we mocked it as childish and in our pretend-adult kind of way, couldn't comprehend how these words could have an affect on us at all.

But what if there are children out there who have never had anyone tell them that they are good, they have worth, they are loved and that there is someone who believes in them?

When learning to be teachers, we are taught about positive reinforcement, how to give praise, how to reward good work, but perhaps we also need to be taught as teachers, to see in students (even the 'naughty' ones) that they are good.

classroom notes #19: me, a teacher?

Some days when I stand in front of my students doing my song and dance, there's a moment of detachment as if I'm watching myself from afar and a voice echoes incredulously in my head, "What? I'm a teacher?" I wait thinking this is all a daydream and I'm still back in my desk in a concrete school room listening to the teacher drone on and on about university and career choices. Maybe one day I'll wake up and find that I'm really an astronaut.

classroom notes #18: back to school

The day students dread but teachers dread more. One week down and so many more to go.

classroom notes #17: a note to my sixth-grade self

Dear sixth-grade self,

You know that boy you like, the one who lives down the street and who you played footsies with at school during reading lessons? Forget about him! Boys who look cute and know it are usually bad news. You may think you’re the biggest geek right now, with thick glasses, braces, bowl-cut hair and mismatched clothes, and your nose buried in books, but geek girls are awesome and it takes boys about 20 more years to discover that fact.

Don’t let the “cool” girls get you down just because you don’t have Guess jeans or Club Monaco tees. Trust me. Saturday morning cartoons are way cooler than 90210 or New Kids on the Block. Don’t get pushed on the playground. When your best friend ditches you for the new girl, hold your head up high, flip back your awesome bowl-cut hair, and talk to that other geek girl in the corner of the lunchroom.

In high school, peer pressure can be overwhelming. So what if you’re hanging out with the uncoolest kids in the school. They’re the fascinating ones, the ones with the most character, the ones who are not afraid to forge their own destinies with the brilliance of a million candles, unlike their 2-dimensional counterparts. Talking about Star Trek, Camus, and your rock collection; joining the physics club; writing an epic round-robin novel; going to lectures at UBC where you'll feel out of your element among the physics majors and their mumble jumbles of the tau particle, and where you'll meet Carol Shields; and attending all the Beckett plays in town will be infinitely more interesting than hanging out at the mall. Besides, you don't look good in mini skirts and baby tees.

When you turn 16, you’ll fall in love with a boy and you will be the one to break up with him even though you still love him. It won’t be happily ever after and you’ll have to learn how to let go, but please, please, please, don’t become one of those girls who cling like saran wrap. In fact, you should break-up with him sooner. There’s so much more to life than boys. Oh, and also stay away from boys who smoke since both the smokers you will date will turn out to be bad decisions (a lesson you will really learn the second time around). Go, explore, and fly for the distant horizon.

Walk your own path. Everyone may be going to uni, making grand career plans, and living the grown-up facade but enjoy this period of self-discovery rather than get hung up on everyone else’s lives. Live your own life even if it means graduating years behind all your peers. Go on those trips to Belize, Mongolia, and Kilimanjaro; go off the beaten path and discover the “invincible summer” within yourself. And remember,

Alcohol does not equal fun.
Saying ‘no’ doesn’t mean you’re a prude.
You will always be a geek so embrace it.
There is a hidden beauty in the early morn. Wake up for it.
There are many hidden corners in the world, go discover!
Dogs are really a girl’s best friend.
A woman’s intuition is always spot on.
Take your nose out of your book once in a while.
Take a chance and tell that tall golden boy you love him.
Take the road less traveled.

Until then, enjoy the long summer days because the next 20 years will go to plaid.

Love,
Your older, but not wiser self.

P.S. Don't panic. And remember to pack your towel.

classroom notes #16: reading as a hobby

There is nothing more gratifying as a teacher than to have a student beg for more books to read. More, more, more!

Unless the book the student wants most is still in hardcover.

But there is nothing I love more than a student who loves to read.

So I buckled and doled out the money for the hardcover.

And now we are arguing who gets to read it first, the student or the teacher.

classroom notes #15: living in another world

When I was in grade school, I was that girl in the corner of the library, classroom, or playground with her nose in a book. A total nerd. You know, the one with braces, thick glasses, mismatched clothes, and bowl-cut hairstyle complete with bangs that were too short. That was me. I was a book nerd... and proud of it. I preferred my books to real people. In books I could be carried away to fantastical places and kids' books really have some of the most imaginative, most magical places, and as well as the most I-would-give-anything-to-be-that-character feeling.

Places where children never have to grow up and fairies existed; where one can tesseract into Utopian planets and fly in the mists on strange mythical beings; where little people 'borrow' from big people, living in a miniature world; where a cupboard transforms your toys into living creatures; where hobbits, dwarves, elves, and my favourite Ents live; where imagination creates a kingdom in the woods; where you can have a tea parties and wonder about the raven; where animals talk; where everything is a dazzling emerald behind green spectacles; where an ordinary lake is seen as Lake of Shining Waters; where dinosaurs and people live together; where people have animal daemons; and so many more!* Not to mention all the mythical places such as Atlantis, Mount Olympus, Camelot, Avalon, Shangri-La, or even the Fortress of Solitude.

If I could choose one character to be, I would want to be Anne Shirley... or Nancy Drew but it's so difficult to choose just one book-world. I've always loved the universe Douglas Adams created with planets like Ursa Minor Beta, Magrathea, and Milliways. Although I think the unpredictable chaos would probably be too much in the long run. But the one place that I always wished existed whenever I read the books is the Forgotten Realms (think D&D, or Middle Earth for gaming geeks). The role-playing aspect has inspired some of the most entertaining novels from authors like R.A. Salvatore and Elaine Cunningham, and continues to be an imaginative haven for geeks everywhere.

Literacy is paramount in education. Experts recommend that 40% of the curriculum should be devoted to reading and teaching reading strategies. We have to teach our students to love reading, to see books as an escape from reality where anything is possible.

*List of the books/book places referred to: Neverland; A Wrinkle in Time; The Borrowers; The Indian in the Cupboard; Middle Earth; Bridge to Teribithia; Wonderland; Chronicles of Narnia (or Charlotte's Web); Wizard of Oz; Anne of Green Gables; Dinotopia; The Golden Compass.

classroom notes #14: life is a winding path

Taking the road less traveled, living life off the beaten path, taking risks and seizing the day!

Why don't schools teach students that making choices outside of the perceived societal norm is still normal? Maybe then we wouldn't have so many confused young adults who wake up in their mid-20s going through a mid-life crises.

classroom notes #13: both sides now

Taylor Mali is chicken soup for the teacher's soul. His poem, “Like Lilly Like Wilson” (there’s also a clip of Mali performing it on YouTube if you prefer to listen rather than read) is like so like awesome.

In my undergraduate year, I took a course with my liberal-minded friend. Our assignment for the tutorial group was to hold a debate on the legalization of marijuana. I can’t even remember what the course name was anymore and why we were debating marijuana when my degree was in the stream of Ecology and Evolution.

Of course, my liberal-minded friend and I decided to group together since we had taken a few courses together already and we knew both of us were good at public speaking. And since my friend was liberal-minded, he was inarguably arguing for the legalization of marijuana.

But we needed a third group member.

Our third group member was a girl, as vocal as my liberal-minded friend and as strong in mind… but in opposition.

She didn’t want to argue against her own personal beliefs. “I am personally against drugs,” she said adamantly. And what a sight it was, this strong vocal girl pitted against my liberal-minded friend, a conflict between her morals and my liberal-minded friend’s liberalness.

In the end she had no choice but to stand with us… reluctantly… in the debate on the side for legalization… all against her own personal beliefs. Then the research started and with each group meeting new ideas formed, new points of views studied.

And like “Like Lilly Like Wilson”, her mind changed until even she couldn’t believe that she could ever be advocating for marijuana and going as far as to believe in what she’s saying. Especially on a topic she was initially reluctant to speak for against her own initial beliefs.

We may not be able to influence the way other people think and it’s not about changing the way other people think; but rather, how we should take the time to understand different sides and start by changing the way we think.


Like Lilly Like Wilson
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Azu8XWcHzFM
By Taylor Mali

I'm writing the poem that will change the world,
and it's Lilly Wilson at my office door.
Lilly Wilson, the recovering like addict,
the worst I've ever seen.
So, like, bad the whole eighth grade
started calling her Like Lilly Like Wilson Like.
Until I declared my classroom a Like-Free Zone,
and she could not speak for days.

But when she finally did, it was to say,
Mr. Mali, this is . . . so hard.
Now I have to think before I . . . say anything.

Imagine that, Lilly.

It's for your own good.
Even if you don't like . . .
it.

I'm writing the poem that will change the world,
and it's Lilly Wilson at my office door.
Lilly is writing a research paper for me
about how homosexuals shouldn't be allowed
to adopt children.
I'm writing the poem that will change the world,
and it's Like Lilly Like Wilson at my office door.

She's having trouble finding sources,
which is to say, ones that back her up.
They all argue in favor of what I thought I was against.

And it took four years of college,
three years of graduate school,
and every incidental teaching experience I have ever had
to let out only,

Well, that's a real interesting problem, Lilly.
But what do you propose to do about it?
That's what I want to know.

And the eighth-grade mind is a beautiful thing;
Like a new-born baby's face, you can often see it
change before your very eyes.

I can't believe I'm saying this, Mr. Mali,
but I think I'd like to switch sides.

And I want to tell her to do more than just believe it,
but to enjoy it!
That changing your mind is one of the best ways
of finding out whether or not you still have one.
Or even that minds are like parachutes,
that it doesn't matter what you pack
them with so long as they open
at the right time.
O God, Lilly, I want to say
you make me feel like a teacher,
and who could ask to feel more than that?
I want to say all this but manage only,
Lilly, I am like so impressed with you!

So I finally taught somebody something,
namely, how to change her mind.
And learned in the process that if I ever change the world
it's going to be one eighth grader at a time.

classroom notes #12: the inclusive teacher

It takes energy to motivate and inspire the low ability learners.

It takes energy to challenge and push the average ability learners.

It takes energy to keep up and differentiate for the high ability learners.

That’s 3x the energy.

If only Red Bull really gives me wings.

classroom notes #11: then and now

What happened to imagination?

What happened to make-believe, dressing up in real and imaginary costumes, talking to imaginary people in outrageous imaginary scenes?

What happened to pretending that your house is actually underwater and the only way to get around is by swimming and you talk all gurgly because that's how people talk when they are underwater?

What happened to inventing out-of-this-world inventions that really saves the world or is this great big contraption that pops out strawberry mint drops?

What happened to round robin storytelling where each successive kid would add in an even crazier, more bizarre problem for the hero to solve with her super duper fantasticombustibal powers?

What happened to creative writing about an old miserly man who had a spider for a pet and the spider loved to listen to Rachmaninoff?

What happened to little outings out in the backyard that turn into journeys of epic proportions?

What happened to bath-time water wars; the sailboat lurking behind the caverns of the knees, ready to ambush the unsuspecting Captain Quacky Duck, but the little pony mermaid saves the day and they splash off into the porcelain horizon?

What happened to reading a storybook and believing that anything is possible, only to have your mum yell about the big hole in the yard when all you were really doing is practicing for a future career in archaeology?

What happened to flightful fancies of exploration, sneaking about in the safari of the living-room hoping to avoid the wild creatures before cautiously entering the Pyramids of the bedroom and daring each other to see who will get hit with King Tut's curse?

What happened to making your own treasure hunt with strange cryptic clues only to have no one able to find the treasure, but it's okay since that means more Skittles for you?

What happened to the kids of today?

classroom notes #10: just a job?

Today I felt so frustrated with my kids. I keep pushing them to go beyond themselves, to think deeper with more complexity, to make themselves stand out and I felt as if I was talking to air. Is this the product of the Hong Kong education system? Is this the result of a culture where priority is on examination placement and everything else is not of their concern? And then I thought, am I asking too much of them?

I always tell my fellow teaching friends that whenever they feel angry, sad, or frustrated to remember that in the end, being a teacher is only a job and to detach themselves from any negative feelings but then it's not that simple. You invest in the well-being of your students both emotionally and mentally and the resulting mass of frustration steaming out is from seeing them not growing to the potential that you know is there.

*pulls hair out*

classroom notes #9: learning as a teacher

What is worse? Feeling angry at someone or being disappointed in them?

That's a lesson my kids experienced today...

When a teacher is angry, she may yell, shout, scold, punish, assign stacks of penmanship or other repetitive unwanted tasks.

When a teacher is angry, she may look frazzled like a monster with static-y hair.

When a teacher is angry, you can almost see the steam coming out of her ears, and the furrows between the brows is like a mask that is slipped on over her normally cheerful demeanour.

When a teacher is angry, you don't take it seriously because the teacher still cares to push you to finish your work and still cares to make you work harder, as hard as you are capable and then even more.

But.

When a teacher is disappointed, it's as if a dark gloomy cloud has settled over the classroom.

When a teacher is disappointed, there is only silence, that can't be stirred back up and you start wishing for the teacher to yell, shout, scold, punish, and assign stacks of penmanship or other repetitive unwanted tasks.

When a teacher is disappointed, you feel lost since anger is something easier understood.

When a teacher is disappointed, it is more serious because you are faced with the teacher's expectations and hopes compared with your own effort.

It got me thinking about my own parents. How many times have I made my parents angry? And how many times were they disappointed in me? And so it becomes my own lesson today too.

classroom notes #8: it's all worth it

The bell rings. It’s the end of a lesson.

“That’s it for today. Hand in your work.”

Chairs scrape loudly echoing off the walls in the hall.

“Don’t forget your homework sheet. It’s due next week.”

Kids muttering impatiently as they wait to be dismissed.

“You need to write in complete sentences and give five good reasons.”

The noise level increases as papers rustle and kids start running around upstairs.

“Give examples. Such as… For example…”

Feet shuffle about as they edge towards the door ready to flee.

“Okay, good-bye class.”

Within seconds, the hall is deserted.

Then a tug on my sleeve and a quiet voice… “Thank you, Miss Hester.”

My pleasure.

classroom notes #7: a feathery love

A teacher is like a mother duck.

A mother duck waddling about with 35 little ducklings trailing behind.

Fledglings really, learning how to use their wings and fly.

And making lots of noise in the process. A gaggle, a gargle, gurgly quacks

Sometimes you might even want to pull all the feathers from your head out of frustration.

But behind the frustration there is always lots of love.

Love.

A teacher loves with all her feathers.

A teacher loves all the little quirks and quacks.

A quacky love.

What happens when one little fledgling will never feel the starlight on her wings or fly with windy delight?

The world fills up with clouds of stormy rain.

Yet, the duck waddles on with 34 little ducklings trailing behind.

And through the clouds you still smile brightly, for the 34 little ducklings trailing behind.

classroom notes #6: playground duties and playground joys

Playground duty can be tedious and neverending, the 15 minutes stretching into eternity as swarms of kids holler and whoop around you louder than wild monkeys. But then a little girl with endearing pigtails and sticky fingers will skip along with a sunny smile...

"Miss Hester, Miss Hester!!! How old are you?!!!?" The exclamations audible in the excited speech.

"Hmm. How old are _you_?" Question asked with a quizzical pose.

"I am SEVEN years old!" Shouted jubilantly with a little bounce to accentuate.

"Seven years old!!! Me too! I'm seven years old too!" Paired with an incredulous expression.

"NOOOO! You're not seven years old!" Giggles galore.

"How old is Miss Hester?"

"Uhhh... one hundred years old!" Giggles escalating.

"One hundred? Oh no!"

"Yes! Miss Hester is one hundred!" She takes my hand.

"Miss Hester is old." And a sad little frown.

"You are beautiful! I love you!" Swings our joined hands.

"Thank you." With a little bow.

"You're welcome." And then off she runs after giving me a half eaten gummy.

Sometimes you gotta love your job.

classroom notes #5: little moments

I’m backstage frantically giving last minute reminders before the kids go onstage for the Speech Festival competition. I make my way down the line adjusting hair ribbons, straightening shirts and cardigans and then I reach Holvin, a precocious Grade 1 little boy who’s so cute he breaks your heart and who will probably be breaking young girls’ hearts in another 10 years or so. He has a low raspy voice that's more befitting of a big burly man rather than this smidgen of a boy barely 3’ tall.

“Holvin, remember to speak loudly but don’t shout.” I adjust the cardigan that’s three sizes too large for him, my fingers trembling with anxiety at how they’ll perform and realizing everything is out of my hands now.

“Okay.” In a stage whisper that booms across the hall.

“Loud, but not too loud.” On my knees looking into his eyes.

“Miss Hester, you already say many times.” He looks back at me, eyes so serious.

“I know. Miss Hester is just nervous.” I give his nose a little rub with my fingertip.

He brings his cheek to my cheek, reaches up to pat my other cheek and then whispers into my ear.

“I know.” He gives my nose a little rub with his fingertip and then off he goes with the rest of the kids onto the stage and into the bright lights.


... And they were marvellous.

classroom notes #4: a teacher's patience

"Miss Hester, what's "flied" past tense?"

"'Flied' past tense?"

"Uhhh... 'Fly'?"

"You should know it! You learned it in your verb list. Think first."

"Uhhh... 'Flew'?"

"Yup. How do you spell it?"

"I don't know."

"Did you forget what Miss Hester said before? You can't tell me, 'I don't know'."

"Uhhh... F-L-U?"

"U?"

"Uhhh... F-L-E-U?"

"E-U? There's only one vowel."

"Uhhh... F-L-E-B... F-L-E-C... F-L-E-D... F-L-E-E... F-L-E-F..." (He proceeds to go down the alphabet...)

"And which one do you think is the correct answer?"

"Uhhh... I don't know..."

"Don't say, 'I don't know'!"

"Uhhh... okay. Can you tell me the answer now?"

"F-L-E... Double-u."

*Pencil scratching away* ... F-L-E-U-U...

*blink*

classroom notes #3: putting on a performance

A teacher...

Dances like a clown.
Gestures wildly like a crazed mime.
Pulls more faces than a monkey.
Circles the classroom as on a trapeze.
Balances like an acrobat.
Juggles, sings, and dances, sometimes all simultaneously.
Flaps, quacks, whoops, and hollers.

We are an entire circus...

... sometimes played to a dead crowd.

classroom notes #2: always have a plan B...

... C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, and Z...

classroom notes #1: a walking zombie

Being a teacher is like being a parent to 35 (or more!) kids. Sometimes, we see the kids more than their own parents do. Aside from the actual teaching, we're also the caretakers, mediators, comforters, discipliner, listener of problems big and small, and all the 'ers' associated with being a parent. The energy output during a lesson is the equivalent of a marathon. I still remember my very first class ever during my practicum. My professor who was observing me noted that I was on a downward energy curve around the halfway mark of the double lesson. And that was only secondary school. Primary school requires twice the energy and twice the patience but perhaps half the disciplining... So, is it any wonder why I live life in a vegetative state whenever I'm off work? Next time you see me yawn at you, kindly remember that I spent the day dealing with kids in full-out tantrums, crying kids, pukey kids, biting kids, hyperactive kids, tattling kids, green kids, blue kids, red kids...