Classroom Book Clubs

I wanted to do something different with my students this year for our Holocaust Unit. Last year, we read Night as a class. This year, I decided to try classroom book clubs. I was really excited about this new project and I hoped my students would be too. I put them into groups based on reading levels and allowed them to choose from 8 nonfiction Holocaust books. I admit, I wasn't as prepared for this new strategy as I should have been. I was definitely putting things into folders during their class and printing things out in between class periods. There was so much that I didn't consider or think of until class started. Things like: they should have access to a sheet that outlines how much to read each day, and a folder for all of their groups' papers would make things so much easier and more organized.

The first day was awkward. I'm not sure if it was due to miscommunication, a lack of enough explicit instruction or what, but that first day was rough. My students were unsure how to facilitate their groups and needed some help getting started. I talked through each role with the groups again and let them try it. They seemed to gain some confidence. 

It's interesting watching them work together today. It's only day two and already I can see the group dynamics changing. After they were done reading and discussing for the day, my students stayed in their groups and talked about other stuff together. This wouldn't be surprising if they were all friends, but they're not. They're in groups with people they may not normally hang out with. 

Hopefully, classroom book clubs help my students learn about the Holocaust and how to have genuine discussion. I hope these book clubs help them foster a real love for reading and for discussing what they're reading. But now I'm also hoping that they create a classroom environment that is accepting and warm. I'm seeing my students interact with each other in a way I haven't seen before. Maybe they'll make new friends along the way. Or maybe their class will become more like a family and less like 10 kids they're stuck in class with. 

The Day a Paper Airplane Became a Bridge

Sometimes it’s my job to teach students to write a sentence, and sometimes it’s my job to teach students that there is a time a place for goofiness and fun and a time and a place for work. And that is what I felt like I was doing one day when I allowed my students to make paper airplanes and discuss which design was best. This is how it came about: I was doing some work at my desk while my students worked during their seminar class. One student came to get a sheet of paper. Nothing was abnormal about that. I watched him turn and start to fold the paper (I had an idea of what he was up to at this point). Then, he drew back his arm and he let that paper airplane fly...about three inches. Then it fell flat. I looked at him and said his name. He looked terrified--probably because he had just thrown a paper airplane in my class. I told him, “That was the worst paper airplane I’ve ever seen! Surely you can do better than that!” He grinned. This led to my class (and me) folding paper airplanes and figuring out which ones flew farthest and why. It was a fun, chaotic day in class.

That day with the paper airplanes, which I felt guilty about because I didn’t feel like I was doing my job, became a day my students remembered fondly in my class. It became a day that showed them that their teacher can be fun and that their teacher can be goofy and that we could have fun together in the classroom. I am a firm believer that relationships set the tone for what will be learned in my classroom and I don’t want to feel guilty for taking the time to build those relationships.

I know that in my district and in my building relationships with students are considered important and if an administrator had walked through my room at that point that I would have been given the chance to explain what we were doing and the reasoning behind it. I want to take the time to celebrate those moments of kinship with my students. I want them to know that we’re on the same team and that I’m for them. Sometimes that means taking a break and having fun with them. Sometimes a paper airplane can be a symbol of a time we connected--so I wrote Mrs. Christner’s Class on the wing and stuck it to my bulletin board. Now it’s a reminder that school and class can be fun, even when we’re working.

So don’t be afraid to take a risk and have fun with your students. They need to learn more than just math, science, and English from us. They need to have positive experiences with adults so they can interact positively with them. I’ve only been teaching for two years and already I’ve figured out that some of my students haven’t ever had positive interactions with adults, so they need that experience even more. That one paper airplane became a connection--a bridge--to my students. I established more trust, respect, and relationships that day than I have all year. We can’t teach kids we don’t connect with.

The True Genius of Educational Legislation

I was looking back on some things I had written during my student teaching and I came across this poem. I remember the frustration that brought this poem about; frustration with a system that consistently gives our kids the short end of the stick, leaving them behind in a world where they have to be ahead. I believe many teachers and people in education can relate to this feeling with the system. We did a project in one of my college classes where modeled the writing of Obama's democratic address. This is the poem that resulted from that project:

The True Genius of Educational Legislation

That is the true genius of educational legislation,
A system of flaws; a complete dependence on governing bodies;
That we can stop paying teachers
And know that our students will still get taught;
That we can cut the budget; cut out art programs,
Without too much complaint from the masses;
That we can regulate and standardize curriculum
Without any checks or balances;
That we can expect students to learn and grow
Without an effective plan or any funds to support them
And that our kids might just become
Productive members of society
--At least most of the time.

*Modeled from an excerpt of Obama's democratic address

Sometimes it's good to look back and remember how creative we are. It's good for me as a teacher--and it's good for our students. When they look back at something they've done that was creative and great, they gain the confidence to create again.

Things I Wish I Could Tell My Students

There are so many things that I tell my students in a day: “Good morning”, “Raise your hand”, “Wait until I’m done talking before you move”, “Yes, you may go to the bathroom”, “I’ll miss you all while I’m gone” and the list goes on and on. Some days I feel like a talking head that they all good-naturedly groan at and (most of the time) listen to. But the best days are when my students talk and I don’t have to. Days when my students lead the discussion, days when my students ask all the questions--though they may not be the right ones, and days when my students are so hyped up about something in the news that we just discuss and debate all class hour long and they believe they’ve gotten out of something in my class, when really they’ve gotten something out of my class.

I love these days, and I love when my students take over my classroom. These days make me feel productive in a way that lecturing never does. While I thrive on my students taking over the discussion, there are some things I wish I could tell them.

1. You are loved. I know that you are in a phase of your life where you feel like you have to change yourself to try to fit in and who you are isn’t good enough. I know that sometimes you feel like no one knows who you really are and if they did, they wouldn’t like you, but I wish I could tell you that the God of the Universe--the God who created night and day--the God who put the stars in their place loves you. He doesn’t even just love you--He likes you. And more than that, He likes you and accepts you for who you are right now and that is amazing.

2. You were made for a purpose. Who you are now is shaping you into who you’re going to be later and you are going to accomplish amazing things. I already see it. I already see it when you stand up for other kids and when you express yourself through your writing and when you let anyone, and I mean anyone, sit at your lunch table--even those considered outcasts by everyone else. I see this happening every day and I am so proud of you. You’re showing God’s love to others and you don’t even know it. You are going to be awesome people and God is going to use you to change the world--He already is.

I wish I could say these things. I say ‘I wish’ because I can’t--not directly. I work in a secular school district and I feel like it’s the right place for me; I love the district I work in. But because I have respect for the religious differences of my students and the staff I work with, I keep these things to myself. I don’t say them outright. Instead, I try to show them these things. I tell them I’m proud of them when they do things that are right. I try to shape them to be young people who take care of others and who show love even when they don’t get very much at home or they’re not sure what loving others should look like. I try to encourage them and let them know that they have a purpose and that they need to start chasing that purpose now--that they don’t have to wait until they’re older to do something to change the world.

I tell them how much I believe in them and that they are important, but sometimes I’m just not sure it’s all getting through. I’m not sure that my voice is loud enough to penetrate the voices from the media, their peers, or even the voice in their heads that may be telling them they’re not enough. I worry that it gets lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday school life and all the curriculum and the grammar I’m trying to shove down their throats so they know how to actually write in something other than text speak.

Above all else, I want them to know how to be good people and what it feels like to be loved. And not loved because they have the coolest clothes or because they listen to cool music or because they’re sixteen and have a boyfriend for the first time. I want them to know what it means to be genuinely loved for who they are--messed-up and all-- and to have a place where there is no judgement; to have a soft place to land.

That’s my goal. And I hope I keep that goal in front of me all the time. That, yes, my job is to teach them English. And I intend to do that. But I think most teachers go into teaching because of the reasons above, or something that resembles those reasons, not just to teach kids how to write sentences or do an algebra equation. It has to be more than that--more than the curriculum and the tests. It has to be about who these kids are and who they’re going to be. Otherwise, what’s the point?

The Things They Didn't Teach Me

I graduated from college with a teaching job lined up, ready to change the world--one student at a time. I had dreams of helping kids through their hardest struggles during their teen years. I would be the best teacher, mentor, and coach that those kids ever had. I felt apprehensive, but somewhat ready. After all, I had been to college. I had been through my teaching program. I had learned tons of classroom management styles, literacy strategies, and curriculum. I thought I had it all figured out; I thought my biggest concern would be dealing with unruly students. I wasn’t prepared for what they didn’t teach me.

No one taught me what to do when a student yells in my face. No one taught me what to do when a student shouts something inappropriate at me in the gym and I’m too shocked to do anything. No one taught me how to deal with parents who are overbearing but blame the teacher when their student doesn’t turn in work. And no one taught me what to do when one of my students had to move away unexpectedly. No one taught me how to console his friends or help them move on.

No one taught me how to react when a student trusts me enough to share things about their home life with me. No one taught me how to congratulate a student on a C paper because that paper was the best thing they’d written all year. No one taught me how to contain the joy and pride that bubbles up when one of my students accomplishes something they didn’t believe they could do. No one told me how much I would come to love my students--or if they did, maybe I didn’t quite believe them.

While this sounds like a long list of complaints, it’s really just a long list of things I’m grateful for. I have been overwhelmed by the amount of things I’ve learned by simply being in my own classroom. And I’ve learned so much that I couldn’t have learned from sitting at a desk during my teaching program--or even from student teaching. These are the things they can’t teach you--the things I had to figure out for myself as they came along; the things I had to ask my mentor teacher--who is insanely patient--about. I’m still figuring it all out. It felt a little like drowning last year. This year, I feel like I’m floating. Maybe next year I’ll start treading water.

Introducing Myself

I know that there are tons (and I mean TONS) of teaching blogs out there. I know, because I've looked through a lot of them to find ideas for my own classroom. And because I've looked through these blogs I also realize that the other teachers blogging are a lot smarter and more experienced than I am, but that's okay. I'm planning to learn while I write!

I'm a second year teacher in a smaller district--I teach English and Forensics. I love my job and I love my students. It's because I love my job and my students that I've decided to start blogging. I want a place to write down and record what's happening in my classroom so that I can look back on it later. I promise to be as honest as I can--I'll include the good, the bad, and the ugly--because we all know we get a mix of all three. Sometimes in the span of a day. I want to post about my great ideas, my horrible ideas, and my experiences with my students.

I hope this blog can be helpful, encouraging, relatable, and entertaining. Hopefully you'll get a feel for my classroom and my students, and maybe you'll find something you can use from it. Or maybe you'll just get a giggle from the ridiculousness that ensues from a classroom full of high schoolers. But, hey. We all need that sometimes, too.