Thursday, December 18, 2008

Special Treat: This I Believe

My junior honors students wrote "This I Believe" essays, a la NPR, this week. There were a lot of tears shed as they read them aloud in class. I wrote one, too, but ran out of time to read it to them. Perhaps I will when we return from break. Here it is:

Flying Free

Liz Peterson loved to swing. Everyday at recess while the girls headed for the monkey bars to do dangerous gymnastics and I ran to the basketball courts to play with the boys, Liz climbed onto a swing and moved herself back and forth until she was flying. She would swing until the teacher on duty would blow the whistle and we’d run in for water break, bathroom, and back to class. As we were only in third grade, I obviously did not analyze the symbolic nature of Liz’s swinging at the time. But now it makes sense to me. Swinging, see, is very freeing. It’s like flying for a kid; for an instant you are weightless, hanging in the air, able to see the world from a new perspective. There were probably many moments in her life when Liz wanted to fly away. But she was stuck, as we all are, in a sense, so she would swing.

The kids rarely spoke to Liz. They didn’t sit with her at lunch or play with her at recess. I can’t remember a single person who I could say was Liz’s friend. I’m not sure that I can count myself as one, either. But I was already viewed as a little strange by my classmates. I played basketball with the boys, left class every afternoon for the gifted program, and didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of me. So they let me talk to Liz. I was strange enough to get away with being near Liz, but the kids never forgave her because she was truly different. In fact, they teased her relentlessly.

Liz’s family was poor in such a true and sad sense of the word. To this day, I don’t know that I’ve ever known anyone as poor as Liz Peterson. There were ten children in the Peterson family and they came to school dirty and hungry. Liz told me that she was born with a hole in her heart (awfully symbolic, now, too), and was often sick as a child. She had a really short haircut when long hair was popular. She told me that her mother cut it all off when the she and her siblings all had head lice. But worst of all, Liz wore her Girl Scout uniform to school. She didn’t have enough clothes, so at least two days each week Liz would come to school in her uniform, sash and all. It was too easy to pick on this homely little girl wearing her Girl Scout uniform when she wasn’t supposed to. So Liz would swing.

As a teacher, I see Liz Petersons all the time. They are overweight, completely uncool, or too short or too tall. They have speech impediments or are painfully shy. They are poor, wear headscarves, are gay, or have learning disabilities. They are the kids who sit by themselves at lunch, or hide away in some corner of the school, trying not to be noticed. But they can’t hide. Whatever makes them different is their own Girl Scout uniform. Like Liz’s poverty, they can never take it off.

Liz Peterson, I suppose, is part of the reason I am a teacher today. As a third-grader, I would occasionally sit on the swings and talk to Liz. But I never defended her against her tormenters. I never stood up and said, “STOP.” I don’t think my small act made a difference in her life. I had the opportunity to change attitudes and perceptions. But I didn’t. As a teacher, though, I can now. Every day I get the chance to not only swing with a kid like Liz, but to teach other kids to value one another, too. Through my example, I get to demonstrate the kindness and inclusion that our society often lacks.

I believe in Girl Scouts. I believe in the inherent value every person in the world has. We have done an incredible job creating hierarchies, splitting ourselves into groups, and deciding what makes a person right or wrong. Sometimes we treat each other so badly that we make people hide, hurt themselves, or simply want to fly away. I don’t know what happened to Liz Peterson or if anyone ever believed in her. What I’ve learned is that if we know our value, it’s our job to find and honor the value in others. So for Liz, and for Girl Scouts, for gays and kids who are overweight, for the shy, the disabled, the nerds, the poor, and the minorities, for kids who feel sad inside and don’t like themselves, I believe.

If We Can Just Get Through This Day, It'll All Be Okay

The title today is the mantra of my next door neighbor here on the fourth floor of Kennedy High School. And she's right, in a sense. Today is a day that brings relief. It's the last day of class before break. It's also a stopping point. When we come back from break, the new semester begins. Kids start fresh without their poor grades dragging them down. Classes get switched around a little and you have new faces in class to change the dynamics. The kids also grow up a little over break, and come back excited to see their friends and get back into a schedule again. Teachers often clean up their rooms and rearrange the desks. It's got almost all the hope of a new school year.

That said, these last few days before the break are both tender and horrific. The students wear Santa Hats and eat too much candy. They have so much excitement and often don't know what to do with it. They can also be emotional wrecks. Some dread the holidays because their families are a mess, or it reminds them that they don't have a mom or dad. One of my students had a look of panic about her. On Friday, her family is driving to Guadalajara, Mexico, and she's afraid that they'll be killed by drug dealers at the border. Another student has to spend the break with her father, whom she hates. Yet a third lost her mother around Christmas last year. It brings new meaning to the words "Happy Holidays".

But even the saddest and angriest students are the most tender around the holidays. The student you would least expect brings you a card. You get Snowman candles and chocolate covered cherries and Batman Pez and bookmarks...all with little notes, misspelled and written in marker. You'd think you taught elementary school, but these are high school kids and they've come to regard you as they would a parent or an aunt. They feel something for you and they want to express it. They are sad and happy at once. Even the kids who don't have very nice things done for them want to do something nice for you.

I'd like to package it up, this day. I could sell it, like a movie that makes you laugh and cry and feel better about the world. The holidays give my students a chance to open up, but it's scary what you see inside. There is a lot of pain in there. There is also a lot of hope.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Socratic Circles


Today one of my students wished that Socrates (were he alive today...damn that poisoned hemlock!) could be the principal of the school. Then, he said, every class could center around Socratic discussion. I also had a very interesting conversation in second period yesterday about whether or not teachers were even necessary in a Socratic classroom. This is the joy of using Socratic Circles.

So, it sounds like just another pop-pedegogy thing that comes in and out of usage. Like, for instance, the Word Wall. Right now, the world begins and ends with the Word Wall. Everyone not only should HAVE a Word Wall, but INTERACT with the Word Wall on a daily basis. I had one up but the words got old. For a week or two it just had the sign, "Word Wall" with no words. So I added the suffix "less" to "word". I haven't interacted with my Wordless Wall since.

But Socratic Circles (or anything, for that matter, if the teacher isn't being required to use it whether it's pertinent or not) are so much more than pop-pedegogy. I am such a fan. They teach kids to question, they structure discussion to keep kids on task, and they get the teacher out of the center of everything (except when she's biting her tongue so hard that blood is dripping down her chin, so she steps into the "hot seat" for a moment). There are actually two circles: inner and outer, and each student gets to participate in both. The inner circle is in charge of questioning, discussing, creating commraderie, digging into the text, etc. The outer circle listens and watches (and can step into the discussion briefly to use the hot seat). This gives kids multiple modes by which to learn from each other. And I get to learn so much from them, too!

But best of all, the way students are evaluated is primarily through their Socratic Reflections. This gives them the chance to think carefully about how they participated or interacted in the circle and what they learned from the experience. Most importantly, students must consider what new questions have arisen based on the discussion. Learning, said Socrates, is about questions, not answers.

I think Socrates would be proud today.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Things I Keep Track Of

Some days when I stop and think about what I'm doing (yikes, I should probably do that more often!) I realize just how much I have to keep track of. Now, I'm not trying to brag here, but damn, I keep track of a lot of stuff! How does my brain handle it all?! Today, for instance, I have kept track of:

1. The teacher who borrowed my DVD player and when I can get it back
2. Which students missed class on Thursday and need make-up work
3. Which students are gone today and will need make-up work on Monday
4. The students who told me that they would come in to make-up the vocabulary quiz they missed, and when
5. The student who asked for a letter of recommendation and when it needs to be written
6. How far in Antigone each of my classes read--where we needed to start today and wheere we'll start on Monday
7. The students in each of my classes who read a part in Antigone so they can earn points for participation
8. How many pennies my 4th hour collected for the Penny Harvest
9. When the next GSA meeting (Gay Straight Alliance) is and who will hang up posters
10. When the next book club meeting is and who will hang up posters
11. What days I need to sign up to take my students to the library and computer labs
12. Which students handed in make-up work from being absent and where I put it
13. What happened in chapters 13-16 of Wuthering Heights
14. This week's vocabulary lists, which are different for periods 2/4, 5, 7, and 8
15. Which students were absent because they were at a college visit or field trip
16. What roles in Antigone were being read by which students in periods 2, 4, and 8
17. Whether or not I assigned homework in all 6 of my classes and when it is due
18. To dismiss students early for girls swimming and boys basketball
19. To make an announcement in my 2nd period class about the canned food drive
20. Whether I have made copies of all the right handouts for all the right classes in the right amounts
21. Whether or not I remembered to eat lunch
22. Taking attendence in all 6 classes--both in hard copy and computer format
23. Putting notes in the students computer file when I talked to him/her about classroom behavior or academic work
24. Calling the parents of students who are in danger of failing for the semester
25. What's cool and what's on tv so my students' comments don't go way over my head

That was a fun list to make, but a little overwhelming. I notice that many of my entires come in the form of lists and I think it's a control thing. Hey, if you had to keep track of all those things every day and you just never know when the fire alarm is going to go off or some kid is going to have a break down in your class...you'd probably want control, too.

Happy Weekend!

Thursday, November 06, 2008

HOPE


So, I can't tell you how much hope I feel this week. I have a little bit of a "hope hangover" that's still lingering a couple of days after the election. Here's what has sealed the hope double ziplock bag for me: my students' sense of excitement. It's one thing to feel personal satisfaction and elation over the electoral victory of a candidate in which you can believe (who also happens to make historical inroads and has really cute little kids of his own). It's another experience all together when hundreds of students--young people who missed the chance to vote by a year or two and are genuinely upset about that--greet you with smiles and wide eyes. "Can you believe it, Ms. Stutelberg?" "I think he can change the world, Ms." and "I feel like I matter now." Okay, that last one almost got me as much as watching Jesse Jackson's cheeks drown in tears as he stood in Grant Park. My students' hope is shocking; these are minority kids who live in poverty stricken or lower-middle class homes and normally have a very healthy dose of cynicism about...everything. Never before have I seen so much idealism and joy in them.

I guess that's why, on the morning after, I drove to work and listened to NPR (okay, that's usually what I do) and suddenly had to announce to myself aloud in the car, "This makes me want to be a better person!"

I bring you, Things I've Done This Week To Be a Better Person:

1. I allowed my students to pound on their desks and chant each others' names before they presented their Beowulf Boasts to the class. Then I let them chant Dr. Le's name (he teaches math across the hall) to see if he'd come over to the room. He did. That was a little embarrassing.

2. I used my Sigmund Freud finger puppet to present Freud's theory of psychosexual development to my students before we read Oedipus Rex.

3. I brought cupcakes to my 1st period class when I found out that two of my 20 students had their birthday on the same day.

4. I found on the internet the official "code" for determining what one's Captain Underpants villain name would be, and I spent actual class time allowing students to determine and announce names like, "Crusty Pizzapants" and "Poopsie Toiletchunks".

5. I shared my damaging middle school bullying experiences with my freshmen class. I even told them about how bad puberty was, how I finally broke down and had my mom get me Converse All-Stars so I would fit in, only to be harassed for wearing the wrong socks, and how the only girl who would be nice to me in seventh grade was the girl with the insulin pump, because no one would be nice to her either.

6. I helped a student read and understand a biology article (The Birth of Complex Cells) by showing her how you can turn any science article into a cartoon by using cartoon voices and imagining everything drawn like it's in SpongeBob Squarepants.

7. Something to be added tomorrow as I still have a day this week to be a better person.

So, what can HOPE do for you? As for me, I'm exhausted. This hope, change, be a better person stuff is a lot of work. Thank goodness I've got my students to inspire me.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Miscellany

There has been many a thing that has inspired me over the course of the last week or so, but alas, time as my enemy has thwarted each attempt to blog about it. So, in the genre of the Late Show's Top Ten or the Bill 'o Rights, or the incredibly racist song "Ten Little Indians" I present the miscellaneous stuff of my teaching life.

1. Getting Thank Yous is so awesome. Our wondrous counselors at school have been hounding the kids to do things the right way: ask for the letter of recommendation a few weeks before you need it, provide a resume and other relevant information, get your own stamps and envelopes, and most importantly, write a thank you note. I have gotten two this week, a card and a lovely phone message, and even though I know they were told to do it, it makes me so happy.

2. An English teacher's best asset is a wonderful librarian, and I have one. We call her "The Book Whisperer" because she can sense what kind of book you should read, even if you're reluctant to do so. She does this by gazing into your eyes and channelling great dead librarians of the past. Anyway, Nancy does book club with me, too, and has set up a cool website so YOU can always know what we're reading!

3. An important grammar lesson (non partisan?): Obama's Change We Can Believe In slogan should really be rewritten to say Change In Which We Can Believe in order to avoid ending a sentence with a preposition. This message has not been approved by Barack Obama.

4. A Fall Break doesn't really make much sense. After all, in less than a month we'll be getting most of a week off for Thanksgiving. I like things that don't make sense. Like how gas prices are falling fast. I am leaving town right after school today to visit my fantastic nephews.

5. Comments on Wuthering Heights so far (this is the first time I've attempted to teach it...I think it's quite a nice book, but you can imagine how it might go over with a group of today's teenagers. I have made them promise to keep an open mind about it): "Heathcliff is so emo!" "Are you sure this isn't a werewolf/vampire book like Stephanie Meyers'?" "I understood three words in that sentence: a, if, and when." "Hey, Mr. Lockwood gets a bloody nose just like Adam used to in sixth grade when he got really nervous!" "Ewww...they got married and they're cousins?!" "Ms. Stutelberg, did ejaculated mean back then what it means now? If so, why are they always talking when they're ejaculating?"

This should be interesting.

6. Ahh...Parent Teacher Conferences. I've learned to start with "What are your concerns about _________________ (insert student's name)?" No monkey-ing around. Just cut to the uncomfortable come-to-Jesus chase!

7. The 9th grade AVID class (study skills/college prep stuff) is doing the Penny Harvest charity fund raiser. Normally I don't get into these class competition things. I have too much to worry about to collect pennies or cans of baby food or wear the right color on the right day to earn points. But this time I have become militant about winning the Penny Drive. Guess which 4th period class is in 1st Place this week? That's Right. I've threatened my students within an inch of their lives if they don't bring in pennies. What's wrong with me?

That seems like a good note to end on: What's wrong with me? The answer, as always, is forthcoming. For now, I just need to make it through lunch and two more block periods before the end of the day and the beginning of a 5-day weekend. Thank you, students who thank me, librarians, things that don't make sense, sentences without prepositions at the end, parents who cut to the chase, Wuthering Heights hilarity, and Nazi penny roundups!

Thursday, October 16, 2008

PrObama!



There are a lot of teachers who complain about parents and society and video games and poverty and our consumer culture and Paris Hilton or whatever and I'm not really one of those teachers. I mean, it all has an impact, but it's not really anything I can control in my classroom. It's endlessly frustrating, of course, when you feel like NO ONE is acknowledging it at all as if we teach in little bubbles and learning is linear and the world isn't changing. And then we hear that it must be the teachers' fault when the tests don't come out right...'cause what else could be screwing it up?!? It's just so much more complicated than that.

So I was glad to read, "But there's one last ingredient that I just want to mention, and that's parents. We can't do it just in the schools. Parents are going to have to show more responsibility. They've got to turn off the TV set, put away the video games, and, finally, start instilling that thirst for knowledge that our students need."

I missed the debate because I went the Powderpuff football game, sponsored Mock Trial, and watched the end of the last girls' Varsity Volleyball game. I don't agree with Barack on pay for performance and I feel pretty iffy about the way charter schools are run (systematically...well, especially in Denver), but I think that the president does have the power to inspire people to be different kinds of parents, to lessen poverty in our country, and to change the culture a lot more than I do.

Also, I end up saying stupid things like "some people should just be sterilized," which I don't really mean. But I'd be first in line.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Substitute Teachers


I have missed two days of school this week, due to a memorial service for my Grandpa and for a day-long professional development meeting that I call "teacher school." When a teacher is gone, a substitute comes to teach, as you all surely know. Remember those weird substitutes you had when you were in school? We only remember the weird ones, not the completely normal ones who come in, do their job well, and leave an organized pile of homework and notes on student behavior. For instance, in high school my Spanish teacher was on maternity leave and we had Senorita Bebe, who lived on a commune and took us all out for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. In sixth grade (another maternity leave) we had the superintendent's son, Mr. Valon, who shoved all our assignments in a cabinet instead of grading them, but boy was he cool.

On Monday, my substitute was the normal kind. He followed my lesson plans and the students knew exactly what to do. He collected homework and wrote down the names of students who were late or weren't working. Everything was in a neat pile on my desk when I returned.

Yesterday, I had the other kind of sub, the one who makes for great stories and is probably MUCH more interesting to the students. She got to class 15 minutes late, then yelled at the students for starting their work without her. She never seemed to know which period it was; all the assignments were mislabeled and she told me that period 1 and 5 were "unruly" when those are my two best behaved classes. My eighth period told me that she spent the entire class period on the computer and would periodically turn around to yell at them because she "knew" they were off task. My students described her behavior as "paranoid and on crack." She left behind a bowl with the remnents of soup in it (her lunch?).

This substitute also left me a nice note telling me that I should call her any time I need a sub. Right.

The nice thing was that some of my students were genuinely concerned about me (they didn't know that I would be gone again). I told them that I really appreciate hearing their concern because someday I may find myself locked in the padded room of a mental institution without my shoelaces, and it would be nice to have visitors on occasion. I hate missing work. It's double the work to prepare for a sub, and the uncertainty of what will be waiting for you when you return is just too much to handle sometimes.

This is why I go to school when I'm sick and infect all the children. It's for their and my own good.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

It's All Worth It.


We're almost six weeks into the first semester, and today I got a comment from a student that makes it all worth it. The bell rang at the end of the day, and as my eighth period class filed out of the room I saw a former student of mine in the hallway who ran up to me, a giant grin on her face...

Grace: Hi Ms. Stutelberg!
Me: Hi Grace! How's it going this year? I haven't seen you!
Grace: You know how you recommended me for Epstein's class [AP Lit.]? Well, I've been really stressed about it because everyone else had honors English last year and I didn't.
Me: Well, is it going okay? Are you struggling?
Grace: I don't think so...I just had this mental block, like I wasn't as smart as all the other kids.
Me: Oh Grace, I'm sorr--
Grace: No! But today was the best day! Remember when we read "Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" last year. You know, by that John Donne guy?
Me: Of course I remember, John Donne is one of my favorites.
Grace: Well, today in class I was the only one who had ever read it, and I got to explain the compass part to the class and I kept thinking in my head, "Ms. Stutelberg is the other leg of my compass right now! I can always come back to her!"
Me: Grace, that's wonderful. I can't believe you remembered the poem so well!
Grace: How could I forget all that sexual math imagery! I never thought about my calculator the same way again!


Well...even if it was the "erect" compass that kept her reading, it felt good to know that she gained confidence in AP Lit. and felt smart today. And I'm the other leg of her compass...how great is that?!?

Friday, September 19, 2008

Books, Not Bombs!





So, I guess it's time to start the old blog back up, since the blog is about teaching and I am once again in the thick of it. Or to use a war analogy, I'm back in the trenches. And speaking of which...we had a Congressional Medal of Honor winner visit our fine school yesterday! We had an all-school assembly for him (when was the last time we had an all-school Peace Assembly? Never.) and he gave the kids some good advice about working hard, having faith, freedom isn't free, etc. (I really wanted the kid in the Ralph Nader shirt sitting in front of me to get picked to ask his question, alas.) and then he told us how many enemy soldiers they killed when they raided this village in Vietnam.

I don't know. I guess schools really are still training camps for the military. The military presence at my school is huge. We have this gigantic JROTC that brings their guns to all school events and posts the colors. They compete all over the state and win all kinds of competitions. I think it's pretty ironic that the school is named for the president who started the Peace Corps and we're most known in the city for our rifle team?

But I digress.

In happier news, the Book Club, which I am running this year with the school librarian, met for the first time this week. We had a huge turnout of 18 students and 12 teachers, and we gave ourselves a name: THE READERS OF THE LOST ARK. This month's selections are: Sold by Patricia McCormick, and The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. It was so fun to sit around at lunch with the nerdiest of the nerds and talk books!

I am also helping to sponsor Mock Trial and we met for the first time this week as well. I am lucky that they have a great coach and a couple of lawyers who come to help. I just have to be the school supervisor, and I'm splitting the duties with a social studies teacher.

The most exciting revelation this week was that one of my students, Lupe, is a master Rubik's Cube solver. She solved a cube in class in under 2 minutes, and said that it wasn't even close to her best time. She's a rockstar!

More about my fantastic students and their silliness on another post. As a teaser, second period has decided that their one allowed put down word is "poopyhead". In other news, I reinacted the death scene in Titantic this week in period 8 and every time a cell phone goes off, I DANCE! Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

What They've Learned

My seniors created lists of things they've learned, some school-related, but many not. This is long, but here are the highlights. They did surprise me with their thoughtful creativity. Good job, Kids. Countdown: 10 days.

I’ve Learned…

That if you take your time, things will come out better.

School is difficult, but life is harder.

That people who wear funny shoes are the coolest.

That nail polish always chips at the worst possible time.

That people are not always who they seem to be…both good and bad.

Every action has a consequence.

You can never trust anyone, no matter how genuine they seem.

To wait; not everything comes at once.

That religion can make a major difference in someone’s life.

To always remember, but never regret.

That going to school is hard, but not having an education will make life harder.

That early mornings can be just as fun as late nights.

No matter how nice one’s clothes are, it has nothing to do with how nice they are.

It is better to fix something when it first goes bad then to wait until it gets worse.

To never use the second floor bathroom.

That good things never last.

All animals love you unconditionally.

Life can be challenging, but get over it!

How hard it is to say goodbye to that special someone who is never coming back.

With a smile on your face, it can get you through the day.

That words can make or break someone’s spirit.

That we own our possessions; our possessions don’t own us.

Your gut feeling is your friend and you shouldn’t ignore it. In the end, it can save you from a terrible ending.

Some people will just be your friends because you have a car.

Everything goes by so fast; don’t be in such a hurry.

Each choice you make in life will impact and change the rest of your life.

That you can’t make somebody like/love you.

School is like a fashion runway; you’ve got to dress to impress.

That some friends change; you’ve got to learn to accept them.

Moving furniture over the stain will only help temporarily.

Don’t tell your little brother that Santa isn’t real…let him believe it as long as possible!

We have to try harder to understand people who are different from us.

That how you react might be more important than how you act.

That I like to be by myself because I like myself.

That people who get bored are boring.

How to use semicolons.

Not to blame myself for the harm that others have done to me.

Anger and happiness are infectious.

The people who really care about you don’t have to tell you; they show you every day.

Seventeen isn’t too young to start drinking coffee.

That sometimes the easiest path isn’t always the right one.

That life is like the economy…there are states of recession and depression.

That saying what you want can get you what you want.

That getting behind with schoolwork makes graduating a lot harder.

That too much of a good thing can be bad.

To help others even if they won’t help you.

To never fear anyone, especially oneself.

That ditching is like a drug; it’s addicting and nothing good comes from it.

That insurance companies ALWAYS screw you.

That regret is the direct result of hesitation.

That I want to learn more.

That committing suicide is not a sign of escape, but of hiding.

That being weird is what makes you unique.

That a smile is the best way to communicate.

That you can know a person through his smile.

To never talk back to teachers.

To never go fishing without a fishing pole.

That I am in the world to change the world.

Looks can be deceiving.

You shouldn’t trust those who know you the least.

How to forgive but not forget.

That love is complicated, so avoid it.

That if you don’t practice, you won’t get any better.

That it’s okay to be yourself no matter who is around.

That problems are like boomerangs; they always come back to hit you in the face.

That friends are family.

Rich people don’t tip well.

People can smile when they’re going through hell.

High school isn’t the end-all, be-all.

That hard work is easier than procrastination.

That the good and bad in life are unexpected.

That everyone has a choice about what they get out of life.

That being wrong is not always right and being right is sometimes wrong.

To always drive with as few people as a Geo Metro can fit.

That the truth hurts.

That when meeting someone you never know who you’re saying hello to until you say goodbye.

That love is magic even a magician cannot pull off.

That the only “American Dream” is in my sleep.

That saying something is better than saying nothing.

That a missed day of school in Calculus is like a missed week.

That Macbeth isn’t as boring as I thought it would be.

That you should never lie to your mother.

Not to do everything at the last minute.

That if you treat your parents right you will have a good life.

That if you don’t ask questions you will never find an answer.

That you should never give up on something you really want.

That you have to take life one step at a time.

That my experiences as a child are what have made me who I am today.

That Ms. Stutelberg is as funny as a cow.

If you want the best, you have to go through the worst.

No matter how high a goal is, one day you will grow and be able to reach it.

You should learn to appreciate what you have before you lose it.

Love is the most bitter medicine that no one can say “no” to.

That babies have their own language and world.

That knowing everything could cause you to know nothing.

To be myself with my friends; they like me for who I am.

Confidence can make or break a man.

Not to think so low and negative about myself.

Not to make promises if I know I’m going to break them.

That getting a C can be just as gratifying as getting an A.

Sometimes the happiest things in life can also be the scariest.

In order for people to accept you, you have to accept yourself.

Life is crazy, but I’m happy to live a crazy life.

That school comes first.

That a teen without his parents is like an explorer without a compass.

You won’t appreciate someone until you lose him/her.

That seatbelts work.

That nature provides us with an escape from the world.

That music can get a person through the hard parts of life.

That when I’m mad, taking walks late a night can calm me down.

That the stupid things I do with my friends have been the best times of my life.

That learning to tie your shoes isn’t that important…there are always flip flops and velcro!

That making friends is easy; it’s keeping them that’s hard.

Happiness is more than an emotion; it’s a way to live your life.

That senioritis is overrated and only gets you into trouble.

Don’t eat beef jerky, pop tarts, and a Gatorade right before you race in track.

It’s okay to make a mistake.

Women are always right, even when they’re wrong.

Life is too complex to over-think it.

When objects are glowing red, don’t touch them.

How to apply math to every day life (unfortunately).

How to take an ordinary day, and make it extraordinary.

How to keep my mouth shut.

Never to eat the cafeteria food.

That graduating and graduation in general is only as hard as we make it.

That watching South Park at school is not just a pipe dream.

To never tell a lie, if you’re not going to remember it.

That every person is special and unique in his/her own way.

That traveling makes you see your own country differently.

That sometimes it’s okay to say “no.”

That my mom does more for me than I could every repay.

That girls are the most complex thing on this planet. They are the only thing I will never understand.

That you really need to treat others as you would like to be treated.

That boys are easier to get along with than girls.

To listen to my parents.

That boys only bring drama to your life.

To think wisely and speak loudly.

That one day can change your whole life.

That all my friends have a different opinion on who should be president.

The more you suffer, the more you care.

Trust is fragile and is easily betrayed.

That being nice can bite you in the butt.

Never wear white to Elitches.

To tell the people I love that I care about them because tomorrow is never promised.

Never chug a 2 liter of Mountain Dew.

You shouldn’t grow up too fast because childhood is a treasure.

Friday, May 02, 2008

What does a teacher do on a day with no students?

Today is a day for professional development and planning. It was orginally supposed to be a day for grading course assessments, but the district didn't have the course assessments ready to give, let alone grade. So instead we are professionally developing and planning. What does a teacher do on a day with no students?

1. Gets to school at 7:15 (required work time) instead of 6:30 (to make copies, update grades, clean up room, get ready for students).

2. Stops for a latte instead of drinking home brew, black.

3. Doesn't pick up student she's been giving a ride to school all year.

4. Attends 8:00 meeting with department and principal. Reviews unit planning and next steps to prepare new curriculum for next year so we don't have to do the canned curriculum that the district is shoving down our throats. Makes a "To Do" list while in the meeting.

5. Cleans room up. Makes a space on desk to sit and work. Picks up the floor and straightens the desks. Erases and cleans the chalkboards. Throws unclaimed old projects and assignments in the trash. Takes down old projects off the walls and hangs new ones.

6. Writes summer assignments for honors students. Gets feedback from colleagues.

7. Makes an appointment to take the car in to get it looked at tomorrow morning. Prints mapquest directions to the dealership.

8. Checks plans and e-mails.

9. Talks to neighbor about strategies for teaching students to annotate.

10. Meets department in the main hall for lunch. Granny's Pie Shop! Yum. Actually gets to eat lunch instead of wolfing down yogurt, fruit, and crackers while grading papers and helping students with their make-up work.

11. Back from lunch, reads and annotates Romeo and Juliet for the billionth time to prepare for next week's lessons.

12. Grades a (small) stack of papers.

13. Helps mentee with the action plan and records of teaching for mentee's professional evaluation.

14. Updates grades in gradebook.

15. Time to go home (3:15 instead of 4:00-4:30 helping students, grading papers, getting things ready for tomorrow...).

And interesting to note: The bells continue to ring on schedule during a no-student contact day. It is strange to hear them and have them mean nothing. I instinctively look up at the clock to check the time when they ring.

Also to note: The silence (minus bells ringing every 52 minutes) is eerie. That's why I "collaborate with colleagues" so much and also talk to myself.

Last time we had a day without students, my kids came back on Monday asking "What happenend in here?" The answer: When you have a day without students, sometimes all you can bring yourself to do is rearrange the furniture.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Why I Want a Wife


If you ever get the chance to read Judy Brady's article "Why I Want a Wife," do. Though it was written in 1971, the satire and criticism is still apt today. My students loved it, and I got a chance to positively describe the feminist movement to them. It is a little disturbing that what they know about feminism can be summed up in a couple of man-hating jokes. Many were surprised when I told them that men can be feminists, too.

Okay, so it wasn't as cool as when I showed them excerpts from the South Park movie on Thursday (tell your parents you were ANALYZING MODERN SATIRE, not watching South Park), but I think I've really got their attention now.

The next step: Get them to write their own satire. I'll let you know how it goes.


p.s. I started writing a long, bitter piece about teacher evaluation and then I decided that since this is a public domain, I'll save it for the school board meeting and stick to funny/heartwarming stuff as much as possible here.

p.p.s. Did I mention that I kinda want a wife? One that is really good at decluttering a 600 square foot apartment and can grade papers.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Next American Idol?


The lessons in satire continue. Today I gave the students a copy of "I Wanna Be a Popstar" a parody of the Nickelback song "I Wanna Be a Rockstar." Eighth hour, of course, heard that I sang a part of it to my fourth hour class and insisted that I do the same for them. So, in my raspiest, rock-stariest voice, I sang the first verse and the chorus.

Corrina, unbeknownst to me, of course, was video-taping me on her cell phone as I crooned away.

She said that I'd be up on her MySpace page by this afternoon. I was trapped. There was nothing I could do.

Sometimes I feel like I am satirizing myself. Or adulthood. Or that this teaching thing is all one big example of verbal irony.

I'm off to the school board meeting tonight. No more singing in public for now.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

A Modest Proposal

Can I tell you how fun it is to teach satire?!? Of course, no matter how many times I told the kids, "If you're getting offended by it, you're not getting the point," I still had students glare at me like I was a total sicko for laughing at Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal."

Then one student made a great point, "When does satire cross a line? When does it become mean for mean's sake instead of a joke to prove a point?" And that's a hard one to answer but a HUGE issue, especially with satire today. Could Don Imus claim that his comments about the Rutgers Women's Basketball Team were satire? How do we know a writer's true intentions? What if the creators of South Park really were racist people trying to promote their immoral ideas? My kids are so smart.

But we laughed a lot about boiling and roasting one-year-old babies ('cause you can nurse them for free for a year and get them bigger and plumper) and seasoning them with a little salt and pepper. And the next job: figure out how to effectively create satire in a technological/digital age.

Advice to teachers: get to know your kids really well, teach them what satire is, and then read "A Modest Proposal." You won't regret it.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Things I Did Today That I Regret a Little Bit

So, it's Thursday, which means I get tired, cranky, loopy, and all kinds of crazy because I teach these ridiculous 96 minute blocks four times. Today I did the following:

1. Called students witches. Made up lies about how they were pinching people and whispered Devil messages in my ear to demonstrate the hysteria of the Salem Witch Hunts.

2. Held up my hand with the fingers together and told a girl to "read between the lines." She had asked what it meant to make an inference.

3. When a group asked that their team name in the vocabulary game be "Bad Asses" I told them not to use inappropriate language and that I was making the editorial decision to change it to "Bad Butts". I then proceeded to draw a butt on the board next to their name. And then I made it smoke a cigarette so it would be "bad".

4. Told a girl she was too smart to read Nicholas Sparks books. When she protested because her mom reads them I just rolled my eyes.

5. When a student told me she was hot and asked if she could open the window I told her to take her menopause hot flashes elsewhere. It was a joke. I opened the window for her.

6. I gave Carlos the point in the vocabulary game even though it was really a tie. Someone said that I was playing favorites. I responded that of course I play favorites and Carlos is my favorite. They yelled "Not Fair!" to which I replied, "Silly kids, of course it's fair. Your parents have favorites, so why shouldn't I be allowed to." I asked the kids to raise their hands if they were their parents' favorite. Then I asked them to raise their hands if one of their siblings was thier parents' favorite. Then I asked the only children to raise their hands and said, "And you're not the favorite, are you? Sad."

I think it's time to go home and prepare my apologies for tomorrow.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

How Hip I Am



It was one of those days of hysterical laughter. After the fire alarm went off and they couldn't stop it but made us go back into our classrooms...can we say pointless? the day wanted to be a wash, but I kept trying to bring it back to the literature. I love book clubs because the kids can really teach each other and themselves most of the time. And I get a chance to watch them do it and laugh hysterically a lot.

So today a student raised her hand and asked me how to spell "soldier" to which I replied, "How do you think you spell it?" She tentatively started out, "S-O-L..." "Good," I replied, "keep going." "J-E-R?" "Hmmm. Not exactly. Unless you want to spell Soulja' Boy!" She looked at me funny, mostly because I overemphasized the two parts of "Soulja'" in a way that kids don't. They say it as if it were spelled "Soldier." I like to call out their funny morphed words for how they are really spelled.

I went up to the board and wrote "Soulja' Boy" and repeated it again emphatically a couple of times. This got the class laughing. "I think that the word you are looking for is 'soldier'" I said. And I wrote that one up on the board, too. "I know, it looks like it should be pronounced "sold-ier" but the "die" blend together." I realized then that I had underlined the word "die" in soldier. "Whoops! Sorry about that one! No one is taping me on his iPod right now, are you? That was not a political statement about how I feel about the men and women who are serving our country."

More laughter.

It's even better when I use teen slang in a really awful, older person way and then dance a little, too. Or when I tell my class that I was there with Tupac when he died and I held his hand in the hospital.

Actually, I did live in Las Vegas when he was killed, but I can't believe how many kids want to believe me for a second or two. Or how being uncool can be cool. But only if you do it in the right way and are appropriately ironic about it.

Amazing how kids understand irony.

Friday, March 14, 2008

One of the Hard Things About Teaching

Today is not going well. We're learning a lesson in fear and control and the power that one person can have over 1500 people in a school building. One of the hard things about teaching is helping students understand violence.

Yesterday a message was discovered in the boys' bathroom that was of the "I hate this school and everyone will be dead on March 14th" variety. Security and the police were brought in to investigate and determined that it was not a credible threat. Teachers were notified by the end of the school day of what happened and that there would increased security on campus today. Nothing was said to the students or sent home to their parents.

Of course, news travels fast and changes fast when traveling via text message, MySpace, and e-mails. At 9:00 PM I heard from the student I pick up in the morning. All her friends weren't going to school and she needed advice about what to do. She sounded really afraid, and this morning she confessed that she didn't sleep at all last night.

With half a dozen police toting weapons, teachers shutting and locking their doors each period, and only about a third of the student body here today, it feels a little like a war zone. And I am angry. I am mad at the student who thought he could control us with fear, and I am mad that he has succeeded. I am angry that our culture is one of violence and that schools...places that should represent security...are such easy targets for violence. I am frustrated that the day was a wash, but even more that so many kids are genuinely fearful of this place. I am sad that I too spent the morning thinking about what I was going to do if this thing was real.

I talked to my parents last night but I didn't tell either of them what was going on. Some kids who were here today hadn't told their parents either, and I can understand why.

But those who came all wanted to know: WHY? Why are we a society so plagued with violence? Why do we all feel so afraid? Why does feeling so controlled and scared feel so wrong? Why don't men with guns make us feel any better?

Today, I don't have the answers. That's one the hard things about teaching.

Monday, March 03, 2008

The Kids Have My Back

This morning right after warm ups, my evaluator, Mr. Morris, walked into my room. Mr. Morris, bless his soul, is an ex-Marine with no teaching experience but lots of experience being a Marine. He and I have had an interesting relationship this year, based on a joke about hugging that got out-of-hand. Neither he nor I have very good social skills. Anyway, he's my evaluator and an assistant principal, and of course I've never scheduled an observation with him so in he walks today.

I'll tell you what, the kids have my back. First of all, he walked into the greatest class of all classes, my freshmen honors students. But if you didn't know that they were the greatest class in the world you might think that I had performed some magic spells on them to make them behave in extraordinary, intelligent, adorable ways. You might say that I was a miracle-worker in the classroom. I am not. They are just that good. They don't even really need me. They could teach themselves and do a better job. After warm-ups, in which the kids raised their hands and gave perfect little answers, I decided to move on to this week's vocabulary list. But before I did, I asked them if they all knew the testing schedule this week and where they were supposed to go.

(While I am not, philosophically, a proponent of testing, I do want my students to know where they are supposed to go and what the schedule is. It seems inhumane to leave them in the dark).

All of my students smiled and nodded their heads...yes they know the schedule and yes, they know where to go and no, they don't have any questions. Okay, I say, great! Le's move on then. During the vocabulary lesson, Mr. Morris took his leave and we finished up. I turned the lights back on and I saw a small hand go up in the back.

"Ms. Stutelberg, can you tell me what room I'm in for testing?" Sure, of course, I looked it up for him and was about to put the list away when another little hand went up.
"Ms. Stutelberg, can you look up my room, too?" Well, okay, yes, but I asked after warm-ups and you didn't say anything about it then. I told him his room.
Hand started shooting up all over the room. "We need our room numbers, too!" "What's the schedule tomorrow?" "Should we go to first period or check in at our room?" "What tests?"

I got a silly teacher look on my face and said What gives? No one had any questions earlier. Then Rachel smiled at me with her so sweet little smile and said, "Mr. Morris was in here, Ms. Stutelberg. We wanted you to look GOOD."

Probably, more likely, they didn't want to make themselves look bad in front of Mr. Morris. He's a little intimidating. But I do appreciate the sentiment.

And then I couldn't resist a joke on Eric. He was holding up his half-eaten bag of trail mix. "What are you doing with that food Eric?" I asked. "I'm offering Chelsea my nuts!"

"Eric, no one wants your nuts. Put them away."

Monday, January 28, 2008

Freud Asks a Question


Today Freud said (see 1st post for details) "What's up with Britney?"

In 8th period, I asked a question:
Me:What category does this poem fit into? Metaphysical, Romantic, Victorian, or Modern?
Kevin raised his hand.
Me: Yes Kevin?
Kevin: What's up with Britney?
Me: What?
Kevin: It's on the board. Did something else happen? What did she do now?
Me: How am I supposed to know? I came in this morning and that's what Freud was asking. I guess he's been thinking about it this weekend. You'll have to ask him.
Kevin: Oh. Well, Romantic, because it's about his moment of inspiration in nature.
Me: I wonder what kind of poetry Britney would write...

After Class, Genafer stops by.
Me: Yes?
Genafer: Metaphysical, Ms. Stutelberg.

It took me a while to realize she was answering the Britney question.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Thursday Hell

I am not usually one to complain, but one aspect of my teaching schedule this year bites. On Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, we have a single-period day, periods 1-8 with lunch as 5th hour. On Wednesday and Thursday, classes are blocks (96 minutes), odds on Monday and evens on Thursday. We only have three classes on Wednesday and students are let out of school 1 1/2 hours early while teachers do professional development. On Thursdays, there are four block classes with a lunch in the middle.

My prep period is 7th and I have team planning (English department common planning for collaboration and department meetings) 3rd hour. That means on Mondays I teach one 96 minute class and I'm done for the day.

Then comes Thursday. On Thursdays I teach 4 block classes, 96 minutes each, with a break for lunch in the middle. It is absolutly the most exhausting thing I have ever done. I feel like I have done 6 hours of aerobic exercise at the end of the day. My 8th period class thinks I'm losing my mind. Yesterday they told me that I was acting "a little Britney" and I think we all know what they mean by that. Yes, my students have to sit through four 96 minute block classes on Thursday, but it's not the same. Keeping teenagers' attention for 96 minutes involves acrobatics, including juggling, stand up comedy, inspiration, and something that seems more like a game than learning. Every Thursday. Three different courses. All grade levels. To top it all off, on Thursdays the school day lasts 2 extra minutes, until 2:47, to even up the class periods. TWO EXTRA MINUTES.

I scream. The room goes black. I'm on the floor. It's all over.

By Friday morning, I sort of know my name again. I can write straight on the chalkboard. I'm no longer "a little Britney." I'm Stutelberg again, semi-embarassing member of the faculty volleyball team and the teacher who says, "We don't say 'shut up' in my class....we say 'shut your ugly face.'" And the kids laugh. She's back!

Friday, January 18, 2008

The Bard is Hard!


The other day, my students were having trouble discerning Spenserian and Shakespearean sonnets. First, let me be honest, when I read the above sentence, I almost can't believe it. We've gotten much farther this year than I expected we would. Anyway, a little background...
Both the Spenserian and Shakespearean sonnets are organized in quatrains with a rhyming couplet at the end. The Spenserian sonnet rhymes abab bcbc cdcd ee. The Shakespearean sonnet rhymes abab cdcd efef gg. You can see how the two could be easily confused. One types carries a rhyme through to the next quatrain, thus linking them more closely. But both have that all-important end couplet that resolves, restates, or redefines the central problem of the sonnet.
This is what I came up with on the fly. First I asked, "Who is the O.G. of poetry?" [O.G. = Original Gangsta'] The students replied, "Shakespeare, duh!" "Well," I said, "the O.G. uses the gg! That's how you can remember!"
Were they laughing at me or do they just think I'm that cool? Either way, I bet they'll always remember who uses the gg.
Shakespeare...OG!