Shingles is a Pain!

I have somehow managed to contract Shingles. Over the years I have heard of older people with Shingles and I knew it wasn't good and that it was somehow related to chicken pox. I now know more than I ever wanted to know about the disease. Shingles is extremely painful and because it is located in the nerves of the skin many things can effect it; moving air, fabric that touches it, or a change in body position that forces the skin to move. My greatest challenge is clothing. Because the outbreak is centered around my waist anything with a regular waistband is out of the question as are any stretch knits. I stumbled upon wearing my Lycra pants over the weekend because they sit more on my hips and the fabric stays in one spot. I have four separate clusters of blisters. Sometimes just one of them is in pain and sometimes all 4. It could be a movement I have made or for no reason at all a wave of pain just rolls through. It might hang around for a couple minutes or much much longer. I move very slowly when changing position from sitting to walking or vice versa. Then there are other times that I feel just fine and have no pain whatsoever. I've never been one for surprises and surprise pain is the worst. I guess the thing that bothers me the most about this whole ordeal is that the onset is caused by stress or a compromised immune system. I know the latter is not the case and to tell you the truth, there have been other times this year that I have felt a lot more stressed than I have the past couple weeks. Like when I'm sitting at lunch and suddenly realize that grades have to be closed out at 3:00; that's stressful. As I have gone back through my mind I really couldn't come up with any time that I had felt out of control stresswise. Perhaps that means I am totally out of touch with my body or maybe it's just the culmination of all the new experiences this year. Whatever it is, I hope it passes quickly and that it never happens again. The positive side is that I am learning to rest. I have learned that the couch is very nice place to be.

Pondering the Brain

My fascination with the brain began with my master's program at Santa Clara University. At the time I was in my 4th year of teaching and third year in 1st grade. It is what precipitated the change from an Interdisciplinary degree to Special Education. I was fascinated by all the things that had to happen in nanosecond synchronization for a 6 year old child to learn the process of reading. I left the program much more amazed by the percentage of students who could read than by the ones who couldn't. My fascination with the brain has continued and become more complex. Metacognition is one of my great loves of teaching. How do we know that we know and when am I actually aware of the process? Last year I had a student with Affective Disorder and I started reading everything I could find on the frontal lobe which may or may not develop as the child matures. It turns out, that little thing is pretty important in making decisions with consequences in mind. My current focus is on the role the brain plays in emotions. I have a dear friend who has recently undergone a temporary shift in his perception of reality. In my mind it all seems to be based in the way we react to the events of our lives. I've known plenty of people who can endure amazing incidents and seem to pass through them unscathed. And there are many others who worry everything to death and can become overly anxious about daily routine events. This leads my thinking to two important variables; our individual histories and systems we have in place to deal with the challenges of our lives. There are people who have had unbelievably painful childhoods - abuse, neglect, forced labor - and yet there are those who come out of it completely intact and appear to be able to redefine themselves in the world. They turn their backs on the who they were and become the person they create in their mind. Is that really possible or at some point are we forced to face our past and deal with it head on? For each of us, the moment may come when we suffer a breaking point and it all comes crashing down around us - the death of a child, divorce, poverty. Where is the breaking point for each individual? The way we process these incidents in our brain is assisted by the social network we use to support ourselves. I have a friend who processes almost any challenging decision externally. It took me a long time to understand that when she said she was going to do "X" and ended up doing "Y" it was because she had to say it out loud to comprehend all the possible consequences to each option. I am definitely an internal processor. I have long drawn out conversations with me, myself and I before I make a move. My divorce from break in trust to final decree took more than 7 years. I shared this with very few people so the end result was that many were totally shocked. I daydreamed single life scenarios constantly. They of course are nothing like the real thing but I had to be certain that I was willing to endure every possible consequence before I could follow through with my decision. This is the way I process decisions in my life. I share very little with my friends and I can't really explain a reason for this. It is only in the past couple years that I have had the courage to actually pick up the phone and ask for help. Perhaps it's related to my need to be right (definitely an Allen thing) so when I say the words, "I'm thinking about...." I feel like I need to defend my position and prove to whoever I'm talking to why this is the right thing for me to do. This is exactly what happened with my decision to make the move to middle school. There were very few people who I would say supported me in this endeavor. For some reason most of the people who I told saw their role as being the voice that had to make me realize what a mistake I was making. That is not support if you ask me. The first question was totally predictable, "Didn't I know how obnoxious middle school kids were?" I tried hard to make these people understand my personality is one that craves change, needs it to grow and learn. But it was pointless and a waste of my energy. Perhaps I just don't have the right circle of friends around me. One thing I know is that I never want to break with this reality and suffer the loss of the relationships that matter most to me - my parents, my family, my children, the friends who build me up and create the bridge from challenge to achievement, from crisis back to being in balance. In order to manage this, I have to have the courage to open up and know that a true friend will accept me for who I am. Yes, they may have other suggestions but I won't be judged because of the choice I make. It is simply an issue of trust. I am definitely a work in process.

Final Field Trip

Our final field trip is now history. Our team of students went to the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco to make some much needed connections to ancient Indian and Chinese history. Neither of these units were a shiny star in my teaching achievements. I knew very little about either country and it showed. This field trip was not an easy one to accomplish on many levels but now that it is all part of the past, I can look back on it and think happy thoughts. The students present had a wonderful time. It is always the little things that take me by surprise on trips like this. The thrill they have in boarding a big yellow school bus, the joy that is apparent in just leaving school while everyone else toils away, the excitement of riding through Santa Clara, Sunnyvale, Palo Alto and to keep going. I love the little comments that are overheard "I've never been to San Francisco on a field trip", "Is that the beach?" Sixth graders are just still so cute. Our gallery time was set for 11:00-1:00. That meant a very early lunch. We headed across the street to the Civic Center park for a little play time. I noticed the very young equipment and thought, "Oh well, we can just sit around and chat." Was I ever surprised when they lined up behind the baby swings to take their turns swinging and pushing one another. They went down the tiny little slides and clamored together to jump up and down on the bridge. I guess these kids just have not had enough time to play. We had our lunch and headed into the museum. There was lots to see and my group kept grasping onto key words that they had heard before: Chandra Gupta, Vishnu, Pure Land Buddhism. Maybe I wasn't an awful teacher after all. I loved this place because it had all the swords, daggers, and samurai soldiers for the boys and beautiful kimonos and gilded statues for the girls. We gathered together to head back to school with no one missing. Success! The kids were a little more alert on the bus this time around. There were lots of guessing games being played - I'm thinking of a number between 1.4 and 2.4, kids who were fascinated by waving at other drivers just to see if they would wave back and tons of interesting conversations to overhear. I only snatched one cell phone. We arrived back at school for the entire 6th period of PE. So we all headed out with our balls and frisbees and decompressed. I only had to remind them once that there was NO DODGE BALL. Actually, in my heart of hearts, I would give almost anything to give in on that one before the year is over. So, yes this final field trip was a great success. There is just nothing like putting kids out into the real world and watching them figure it all out. So despite all the hurdles in putting this one together, we all came out of it a little wiser.

A New Crop of Teachers

It was my pleasure to attend the convocation of my student teacher from last year today. I have to say that I was pretty amazed to see the number of graduates fill all of those chairs that were set aside. If that isn't the embodiment of hope, I don't know what is. Almost 200 people in just one university are choosing to dedicate their lives to the children of our valley. The pay isn't great and the hours are horrendous. It must be love.

The dean of the department talked about the number of lives the newly credentialed teachers will effect in just their first year. One of of these days I'll have to sit down and do the math of how many students I have taught to date. I'm sure it will be a shocking number and will stun me into once again checking my smart mouth at the door.

I was struck by something else while I was there witnessing this celebration. It was the look of pure happiness on each and every face. This was not a room full of traditional 23 year olds who had the feeling of finally finishing their college careers and were now ready to live their lives. There were many 2nd and 3rd career destined graduates in the group but the look remained the same. It was a glow that transcended anything physical and had to come from deep inside the heart. It was the look of unadulterated hopefullnes, the belief in the the future and the knowledge that whatever life had in store would be the answer to their prayers. Teachers do what they do for tomorrow not today. It is the same trust of a garderner who plants seeds and sends forth the hope of what could be. These graduates clearly believe that this profession which has its big toe in tomorrow is what they have dreamed of for so long. It is so refreshing to see that the dream is still alive.

Its Just A Number

I took part in a lovely little walk in the park this weekend. The weather was perfect and it was a very enjoyable outing with the staff of our middle school. I was given a number to wear just as you would be in any other organized walk/run. But we quickly noticed that these were just a little different. This group had decided to include the runner's age. I am not a person who focuses on her age so I looked down and quickly attempted to do the math. Things didn't add up. I just kept looking at the number. 64? Huh? Clearly there was a mistake but the number stuck in my head. I couldn't seem to let it go. Wow! I look pretty good for 64! Then I started thinking about me at the real 64. What would I look like, would I still be registering for 5 and 10K walks? I could only go there if I thought about the me 10 years in the past. As I thought back it all came screeching into my memory. That was not a good year. At this point in the year, I would have been separated for 8 months, in the process of selling the house and preparing for a move to Texas to put myself back together again. I've come a long way since then. Who knows what lies in store for me in the next 10 years? Yes, my age is just a number but 64 sounds a lot older than 54. It is good that we just take them one year at a time.

Sometimes There is Just No Good Solution

There was another meeting today to plan for the student who my partner teacher has renamed "he who will not be named" just because it becomes exhausting to talk about him ad nauseam. We both have done quite well at keeping things in perspective the past couple weeks. He is given what he needs to make choices about his day and the other students get the best of what we have to offer. But the question still remains, "What now?" What is the plan for the remainder of the year, summer school and placement for next year. I walked out today with the feeling that there is just no good ending here. Retention will do nothing for a change in his attitude. Moving on to 7th grade will simply be more of the same. The other possibilities are that his parents will move him to another school - that would make #7, he'll turn to the dark side or he'll stop coming to school. None of these accomplish our goal. The piece I just can't let go of is that he was told he would not go on to 7th grade unless he turned it around. How does a promotion get communicated to him without him thinking that he has accomplished what he set out to do - absolutely nothing. My words mean everything to me. I don't speak any that I don't mean. I am only grateful that I didn't put the original deal on the table all those months ago.

Yes, middle school is really different. There just aren't many options available to kids who choose not to come to the table. There is no placement other than the regular program until after 8th grade. So the only choice is to fail, go to summer school, fail there and then fail again next year. I'm still not sure about this but it feels like one of those times that I just need to let it go.

I'm Probably a Cynic

It is save for me to now openly express my feelings about Swine Flu. Tonight I heard that schools will be reopening tomorrow because they have discovered that's it not quite the contagious disease they thought it was. Anyone who chatted with me about this topic in the last few days already knows that I did not take it seriously. Quite the opposite. In my classroom you could even hear me blessing students after a sneeze with "swine flu" in place of "bless you."' I like to think that I am slightly irreverent but it is probably closer to cynical. It is rare that I worry too much about government warnings when they begin with solutions like cover your mouth and wash your hands. Don't get me wrong. Having the flu is a terrible thing even though I could probably count on one hand the times I have had it. I only remember 2 of them - one when I was a small child and the other when I was pregnant with Dave. I have always been blessed with good health. I am sorry for anyone who has suffered from Swine Flu and especially for those who have lost family members. But here's the deal; people have been dieing from the flu for thousands of years. And the solution is covering your sneezes and washing your hands. The funniest thing that happened in regards to this was yesterday on our field trip via VTA to Flint Center. As we were preparing to leave one of my students ran up to me and shouted, "Ms. Allen, I forgot my Purell. My mom said to be sure and take it with me today. Can I go to my locker?" Then the rest of the morning I couldn't help but notice how many kids pulled their sleeves down over their hands as they held on to the poles on the bus or railings in the auditorium. I just find things like this humorous. I suppose that really does make me a bit of a cynic.

Public Transportation

I just have to say that I love public transportation. This morning we went on a field trip to Flint Center; it was the second time we have used VTA buses this year. The driving part of field trips has always put me over the edge. I love being there, I just hate the journey. I always worried about parent drivers and I must admit that I had a couple weird experiences in my early years where parents stopped and bought treats for their carload of kids; a few have gotten lost. It just is a lot of worry. When I got to Sutter and discovered the beauty of school buses my worries were over. I loved being on the bus where I could see every single kid. Yes, I know; I have control issues. I have used VTA a couple times over the years but VTA with primary and VTA with middle school is a whole different thing. One of my favorite parts is when you get on the bus with your 30+ kids and you watch every one's face sort of fall in disbelief from the bus driver all the way back to the person sitting in the very last seat. I kind of feel sorry for them losing their peaceful ride to school or work or home but on the other hand, it is good to spread our adolescent energy around. By the end of the ride, everyone is smiling.

A Day Without the News

I am a news junkie. On a normal day I watch it at least twice a day. I read my articles of choice on the San Jose Mercury News website. I get Yahoo Alerts sent to my e-mail just so I can keep up on any big surprises of the day. I love listening to people talk about events of our times and ponder how it will be recorded in the history books. Lately it has become rather mundane. All I hear is the economy is bad, the economy is going to remain bad for several years and tips on how to keep from foreclosing on my house. And then Swine Flu reared its ugly head. Now we can leave feel bad about the economy behind and shoot right into fear mongering. Yes, I know; swine flu is not passed from uncooked pork. I know how to cover my mouth and nose when I cough or sneeze and I'm really good at washing my hands. I guess I hit overload this week when from the moment I turned the TV on in the morning until I headed out the door to work it was reports on swine flu, Obama's first 100 days, swine flu, Wolverine, and a final report on swine flu. Now mind you, these reports were not all exactly the same. The first one was an interview with a doctor who said that 60% of the people that came to his hospital to be tested were negative so don't come unless you're really sick. The next one was a reporter saying that almost half of the people who showed up tested positive. And the last one gave symptoms of swine flu and suggested to the audience that if you think you have it, please get tested. Huh? So yesterday I made a conscious choice to live a day without the news. And guess what. This morning I woke up feeling just fine about my world. Yeah, I'm sure a few people died yesterday and maybe one or two of them even died from Swine Flu. But I didn't have to look at the news anchors' worried faces on my TV screen and listen to those trigger words: pandemic, outbreak, crisis, panic. The world is a fine place. There will always be wonderful and terrible things happening to us as humans. Unfortunately the news only focuses on the negative side. It is up to us to balance it out with the positive. The sun is shining, flowers are blooming, I have food, water, shelter and wonderful friends and family to support me and lead me forward. A day without the news is a very healthy thing to do every now and then.

Learning About Me

It is abundantly clear that I have been challenged this year. It has pervaded every aspect of my life. I never dreamed that this jump would have such lasting effects. I am not complaining. I still love middle school. I love the whole notion that I never know exactly what's going to happen in the course of a day. Elementary school was just too predictable for a girl like me. I was in charge and there wasn't much that a 6 or 7 year old kid could do to detract me from my mission of the day. But middle school is another story. They walk in the door and the looks on their faces make it very clear what they can or cannot handle in the next 5 minutes. I am figuring out how to "read" them before I even say hello. I am learning a lot from kids. I'm not only learning about them but also about me. How far will I go to get a kid to smile. Yesterday I actually danced in my classroom for the first time ever. I am not a dancer and usually refuse when asked. It just isn't my forte. But STAR testing was over so why not sing and dance? And yes, they smiled, they laughed and they walked out of the room happy. What could be better than 28 happy kids post-STAR.

This thinking has brought me to the realization of how much I learn about myself through my students. Not the good ones who do the work and are proud of their accomplishments, I'm talking about the ones who are outside the circle. The ones who refuse to go along with the status quot, They challenge me to think deeply about my practice and question what I believe about teaching and my role in the classroom.

I have learned something new about myself every single year of my career because of the kids I teach. I am a reflective teacher and that's when the learning begins. How would I know how strongly I feel about learning without the kids who refuse to do it? When I am frustrated and can't get rid of it I have no alternative but to start thinking about it from the inside out. From those more interesting kids I have learned that I don't like furniture thrown at me or even pencils, for that matter. That's when I call for help and admit that I might not be the best placement for this student. I have also learned that I cannot run after one student and leave the other 19 behind. Sometimes sacrifices must be made. I have figured out that my teaching, despite its importance, isn't always what my students need. There are times that a kid just needs to tear up newspaper or pound clay rather than learn the finer points of the states of matter. Softening the heart comes before expanding the brain. I also know that I don't like being yelled at by students or even their parents. Pointing and shaking fingers are out too. I know that physical violence has no place in the home or classroom. That's why we have police. These more challenging kids are all about drawing a line in the sand for me. They are the difference between philosophy and practice. Yes, I believe that every child can learn but I also know that sometimes there is a huge obstacle that must be removed before it can happen. That might be an alcoholic or abusive parent. It could be a learning disability as a result of a pregnant mother on drugs. Maybe it's the fact that a child's parents are in jail and s/he's being raised by grandparents. There are all kinds of things that can get in the way of learning. It is my job to figure out what's in the way and move it aside. The middle school obstacles are many and some are even a bit humorous - what I'm wearing, how I fixed my hair, my locker is jammed, I feel fat. The increase in obstacles has taught me that much more about myself. My strict/lenient line is definitely flexible depending on the curriculum, activity and whether or not there was a fight at lunch. Things learned in partner and group activities go way beyond standards. Kids need to have the opportunity to learn from one another in the same way that we do. I am lucky enough to have an amazing partner and I learn from her every single day. Chatter in the classroom is not always bad. Talking is how we learn about each other as well as ourselves. Teaching something new everyday has shown me that there is an easy and hard way to do almost anything in life. It's worth putting the time in to find the easy way instead of fighting the hard one. My dad's adage of "Find a bigger hammer," doesn't always work for me anymore. I've also learned that lesson plans or modifications can come from anywhere - dreams, hikes through the woods, chats with friends. I just accept them as gifts from the universe and give thanks.

But the biggest lesson I have learned this year is that we must all be allowed to make our choices and experience the result. It is the only way we can know who we are and who we want to become. Failing a test or a quarter or believing I have failed a kid is simply a moment in time. It doesn't define us as a failure. Every day we are faced with hundreds of decisions that all go together to create a definition of me in this moment. The beauty of it is that they can all be different tomorrow. The person I am is constantly changing as a result of experiences I have. I am a student of the world. I am learning to welcome the lessons that challenge my view of the world without digging my heels in and fighting back. Those are the times when I realize that I might not be who I think I am. Educational theory tells us it is at the moment of dissonance that learning actually begins. The moment that I verbalize, "That's different than what I thought," is when my brain and heart can open up to the possible.

What a Difference a Week Makes

A week ago I was so deep inside my thoughts and reflections I could barely see the sun. I was questioning everything - who am I, who am I as a teacher, who am I as a mother. It was endless. And all because of a student who I believed I had failed. After a couple days of sadness and a daughter who was able to shine a flicker of light inside my very opinionated brain, I started to get it. It wasn't me who failed and it wasn't even about success or failure. I was once again trying to change another person's journey just so it would fit the movie in my head. When am I going to learn that I'm not in charge? So this week I started with a new attitude. It was time to go back to class.. I needed to start watching and learning about HIS journey. What I saw and heard was about the who of this kid, It wasn't about what I wanted him to accomplish or finish or learn. It was about who he is. He comes to school for fun. It's where his friends are. The work is overwhelming so he always comes back to the fun. He is smart and a fast talker. He has always been able to get what he wanted out of school. He has dreams as well as short and long term goals. He wants to be a TA next year. He wants to go to college. He wants to be a lawyer. The fly in the works is that there is no bridge between his view of school today and the lawyer of tomorrow. This week I am finally able to let it go and just start finding ways to bring him inside the circle of learners. I started seeing and relating to him as who he is instead of who I wanted him to be. It's not about my classes, what I teach or the assignments that are left incomplete. It's about him and his view of school. I'm planting a seed and I pray to God that someone else will come along and throw some dirt on it. And then maybe someone else with show up with some water. Then someday, someday that little seed will start to sprout and he'll build the bridge to his tomorrow. He'll know that he is smart and capable and start putting the time in to make those goals his reality. I am still sad that I will not be the one to make the difference in his academic journey but I have to remember that it is HIS journey. Ms. Allen was just a stop along the way.