Shocking Events!

For the first time in five years, I had a class get on the stage in front of the rest of the school and perhaps eighty parents and actually perform their song.

Not even one child stood on stage covering his or her ears.  Nor did anyone hide behind his or her third grade buddy.

A bunch of kids actually strategically positioned themselves near the microphones for maximum volume.


They were the eleventh act to perform and had had three stage practices, which I think helped a lot.  But still: the Kindergartners were actually audible while rapping AND danced in front of an audience.


Wonders never cease, seriously.

And that's that.

I am checked out of my classroom (after an all-day Sunday adventure in stuff-moving, stuff-cleaning and stuff-trashing)!  I swear, next year I'm showing a video on the last day of school, not doing Child Pollock and other fun stuff.

...That said, for unknown reasons, we had several parents tour this week.  Early in the week, my classroom had Paper People remnants and various art activities out.  Not to mention an enormous coop of chickens.  By the last drop by, two hours before school got out for the year, it was a disaster zone of take-home backpacks, tear-downs, and craft explosions.  And an enormous coop of chickens.  I had paint in my hair from the action painting, so you can imagine what the kids looked like.  I do not think this makes a good impression, but really: on the last day of school, maybe don't tour.

At 4:30 on Friday, all 6 remaining pink slips at my site were rescinded!

I remembered to pass out everything I needed to and give away things I wanted to get rid of (like Moon Sand, the world's messiest substance.  That stuff leaves glitter in...well, in the dust.)!

I adopted out all my chicks!

I restrained myself from accepting an offer to raise my pet chicken Egghead for my retrieval in August!

I am registered for the Special Education PD in August!  (This means I'm skipping my site PD, and man, am I so happy about that.  Not that I'm tired with my site, just that what with the high-needs school endless teacher churn it ends up being more or less the same PD over and over and over and over and over and over and...well, I have ADHD.)

I am taking an Adderall Holiday!  Providing I survive the Doom Sleepy, that is.

I am leaving for New York tomorrow!

In other news, I got a couple of really nice letters from parents and/or students.  I made plans with my Resident to do a massive classroom purge next week.  This will mean that all the shelf-papering I did is for naught, but will mean I have more space to store stuff.

I have five active projects up at Donors Choose and a sixth (about the Science of Jackson Pollock) in progress.  I am thinking about linking them here, although that would be the end of my "anonymity".

I had some awesome conversations the last week of school.

CHILD (to child): You're evil.
"EVIL" CHILD: HA HA.  Yes, I am.
E. Rat: No.  Let's not call each other 'evil'.
"EVIL" CHILD: But I AM evil.  Listen: (laughs maniacally).
CHILD: What does 'evil' mean?
NEW CHILD: Devils are evil.
E. Rat: Um.  Well, I guess evil means that you do bad things that hurt others...
CHILD: So it means bad?
NEW CHILD: Devils are bad.
E. Rat: Yes, but also that you do bad things because they are bad and you want to hurt others, and that makes you happy. (Resolves to check a dictionary later).  So calling someone evil is serious.
"EVIL" CHILD: That's why they laugh like this (laughs maniacally).
ADDITIONAL CHILD: But what about the minions?
E. Rat: What?
ADDITIONAL CHILD: The MINIONS!  Are they evil, too?
ANOTHER CHILD: Can YOU do an evil laugh?

...this went on for awhile.  I recounted this to someone later and that person suggested that the idea of "minions" might come from a movie.  I have no idea.

CHILD, HOLDING CHICK: Do chickens make chicken?
E. Rat: Can you explain that a little more?
CHILD: Like, do they make fried chicken?
E. Rat: Yes.
CHILD: WILL THIS CHICKEN MAKE FRIED CHICKEN?
E. Rat: (Assists child in loosening sudden death grip on chick).
CHILD: WILL THIS CHICKEN MAKE FRIED CHICKEN?
E. Rat: Um, this chicken is too little.
CHILD: Oh, okay.

I'm just not so fast on my feet after the Promograduation insanity, you see.

Educrats go home.

I am so tired and exhausted and fatigued and careworn and adjectivized of hearing that overturning teachers' due process rights "professionalizes" my profession.

If these people were serious about professionalizing my profession, there are any number of ways to do that that receive no interest from the deform crowd:

• They could stop expecting me to purchase my own office supplies.
• ...and my own office furniture.
• They could make every effort to ensure I can visit a restroom when I need to. 
• They could make sure my office is clean and safe.  You know, like making sure it even has a bathroom at all (two days with no water!  Thanks, City of San Francisco!  The twenty-minute K bathroom line on the upper-grade yard thanks you!).
• I'd have an expense account for the art supplies.

Okay, I need to stop now.  We didn't have water, but we did have a hairdresser on site, and now many teachers are boasting feather extensions.  We look fantastic.  I have given up on the hope of checking out of my classroom today - I need to open the school Sunday anyway - but I'm still joining Team Kindergarten for snacks and drinks after school.  Fancy people complimented my vintage McQueen getup at a fancy education thingamajig last night.  All of my chicks are adopted, and we should have working bathrooms and water fountains today.

And it's the last day with my awfully cute class.

And now it is Tuesday!

It is Promograduation today!

Yesterday I hung two big banners in the cafeteria; hopefully they are still hanging.  The Paper People go up this morning, and I need to place the tambourines and maracas under the kids' seats for quick retrieval (yet limited access) before their performance.

I have extra safety pins, bobby pins and clear nail polish in my bag.

I have a vegan coffee cake as a teacher thank you for dealing with picnic lunches today.

We are also having a Special City Visitor at Promograduation.  I believe this Visitor is planning a solo trip, but sometimes Visitors collect District entourages like chicken coops collect Kindergartners.  I am already getting District Bigwig hobnobbing later this week (although, alas, not at a venue that will allow for the impoliteness of reality), so I'm kind of hoping for limited entourage excitement.

And that the kids sing loud enough to be heard.

Promograduation is Tuesday, and...

1. Instruments for performance of "Turn the World Around": Sanded, primed and painted.  Still need to be decorated.
2. Giant "Class of 2027" Banner: Decorated.
3. Paper People: Autobiographies written, affixed.  Googly eyes placed.  Most of the paper people have bottoms.  Still need jackets, hair, decorations and final coloring.
4. Self-Portrait Banner: Um.  Yes.  Er.  In Planning.
5. New Exciting Dress for the Teacher, Found at a Cost Point that Excuses Jello Mold Incidents at the Potluck: Check, Betsey Johnson crinolined prom dressy thing, bought secondhand.
6. Sashes for Graduates: Glittered.  (Each kid gets one; they read "Future (Insert Career Here)".
7. Chicks: In possession of larger new coop with bedding they cannot fully saturate with water for fun.
8. Diplomas: I have them.  They have nothing on them, but I have them.
9. Assessment: FINISHED.
10. Report Cards: I. don't. want. to. talk. about. this.
11. First Grade Class Loads: Done.
12. Loading Cards: Need to attach assessments.
13. What I Am Doing Today: Going to work.

And Again with the Life Cycles.

This was a banner life cycle week.  The plants in bags are doing great.  The kids were cute doing their little presentation for the school.  They made little crowns and went around calling each other Queen of Seeds and King of Fruits and Super Sprout and whatnot, but on stage they also had a mic and could be heard recounting the life cycle of fruiting plants.  I jerry-rigged a wet bulb thermometer for the incubator (this is not actually hard, but I will brag about it as if it is).  The eggs get candled on Monday and I am relatively hopeful that some of them will have promising dark spots inside.

On Friday I gave the kids a cut and paste apple tree life cycle to do as an independent table group.  If they finished early, I directed them to diagram and write about some other life cycle.  This time-filler was the kind of thing you teach Kindergarten for, in the end:

• one child recounted an oviparous cycle including the important step "the egg cracks".
• another child stated that the life cycle occurs over and over and then noted, "I agree.  Yes."
• one child drew a nine-part diagram of the human life cycle, including labels for "teenager" and "toddler".  The last human had a baby.
• another child went with human life cycles and helpfully gave the final human Xs for eyes and a frown, plus a label of "dead".

In closing, science rocks.

I haven't seen Waiting for Superplutocrats - I have this thing about controlling my blood pressure - but I understand that the lazy, rotten, nogoodnik public school teacher types sleep while their students fail to learn in this movie.

I don't actually know how that works.  If I fell asleep in my classroom, two students would immediately dispatch themselves to run to the office to alert officialdom.  Three more would make a child tower to get at the Magical Mysteries of the Top Shelves.  The rest would tickle and/or suffocate me.  I don't even have a teacher's desk to sit behind, brooding, while my students have snail races/give each other haircuts/become depressed in a miasma of union-loving child hate.  My class can more or less leave me alone to do Guided Reading and/or assessment, but that's due to months of training (and is made much easier this year thanks to having a Resident).  Moreover, part of the 'leave E. Rat alone' compact is that you will eventually get your turn with the teacher, and you don't want anyone to interrupt it.

This week was a bit difficult.  In addition to some time at the vet, it ends up that part of aging is developing really miserable allergies to life itself.  It was also a week featuring things I find difficult (paper management: field trip permission slips, forms for certain school programs, thank yous to mail) and anxiety-inducing (putting together technological items like incubators, making sure no one jumps in the pond on the field trip, eighty seven thousand little tasks that are in themselves exceptionally easy but become this Doomy Doom in my head).

Also, I had this at my home, waiting for perusal.  And someone gave me a set of these.

So what I really wanted to do was spend hours lettering folders, permission slips, awards and similar for my students, taking breaks only to read my exhibition guide and to blow my nose, cough, sneeze and rub my eyes.

What I did instead was run the annual Read an Eggathon (we have an egg hunt, but with words in the eggs and stickers for prizes), get a snootful of pollen on our buddy picnic field trip (DUCKLINGS!), set up the incubator and leave my new fancy book in its overwrap.

The stars therefore granted me a Donors Choose of fine, fine construction paper - the kind that is smooth, crisp, bright and probably miserable for the planet - and twenty boxes of glitter crayons.  Perhaps one day one of my Kindergartners will rate their own fine museum exhibition of couture, and I will attend as a guest of honor in a bespoke dress.  THANKS TO THE GLITTER CRAYONS.

In other news, SFUSD indicates that - Oops!  Sorry again! - the coming year is NOT the worst.  The one after that could be even more dire!  At this point, I am presuming that if the state passes a budget before August 15 I'll be laid off thanks to the late window.  I'm also frightened by the increasing class sizes forecast for SFUSD (and thankful to the district for keeping them low as yet in K-3).  I started teaching after class-size reduction; I have a hard time imagining 31 students.  And the supports that made 31 more manageable (paraeducators, AM/PM Kinder with co-teaching) are gone, while the standards for students are much higher (and the school year even shorter).

Moreover, what with the financial crisis, every year more of my students are under stress.  In the four years I've been at my school, every year student mobility goes up.  I got a new student this week, for instance.  Of my students who have moved away, most if not all of their moves were directly due to losing housing/relatives losing housing (often complicated by violence and family members' passing).  This year I've held SSTs for seven students; about half my class is receiving some kind of school-provided social-emotional service.  Those are services that we may not be able to afford.

So beyond the academic requirements, the empathy and care needed for a class of 31 at a high-needs school in an ill-funded environment is at the 'psychic vampire' level.  It's hard to listen to education reform rhetoric about failing schools, failing teachers and "we already tried money" and believe they are anything other than self-assured, knowing liars who have enough time to read their Savage Beauty catalogues and enough money to send their own progeny to highly-supportive, exceptionally expensive private academies.

Life Cycle Land

The snails' ongoing egg strike despite their bountiful, warm terrarium in the greenhouse and ample food, not to mention my stalwart protection against the forces that would eat them is really quite a drag.

Still, the silkworm eggs are resting comfortably on the heating blanket and with any luck will hatch next week.

And then on Tuesday I received a gift of a circulating-air, automatic turner incubator.  It arrived unboxed during class, so I had to explain what it was.  What with the forces of cute present, I found myself committing to attempting a hatchery providing iron-clad, signed-in-blood "I will take these chickens off your hands on May 27th, 2011 without complaining" contracts enforceable by law, moral code, and so on.

It took less than a day for a child to arrange just such a contract.  Apparently the cute works at home, too.

I now have 30 fertile eggs sitting in my pantry and more or less managed to regulate the incubator temperature on Friday, so all systems are go for a Monday afternoon setting.

I have a bad feeling that the social studies standard I haven't covered yet is going to get really short shrift with all the science going on.  That said, we are doing a school performance covering the virtue of patience and will be using our life cycle knowledge and waiting waiting waiting to craft it.

In other news, I decided that appropriate souvenirs would include both a dress and an exhibition catalogue and ordered the latter in advance so I don't have to lug it around.  I also arranged some visits with grad school cronies and similar who are New York-based.  These plans will provide serenity/mindfulness moments during the next two months of being covered in paint, soil and incubator-temperature-regulation stress.

Crafty Plans

We only have a week before spring break, so I don't want to start any major projects (specifically, the self portrait project).  I need to decide what to do, though - the shorter day during conferences week cuts down on the arts and crafts.  So the kids miss out.  When I pulled out the stinky markers and the fruit stickers to decorate some flyers on Friday they went into spasms of delight.  This is sort of depressing, really: I mean, I want them to be excited but I couldn't help but feel they had been deprived beforehand.

I'm learning toward doing tertiary color blending using cellophane and high-end self-laminate (the kind that is truly clear, not vaguely frosted).  We could also do Child Mondrian this week; we are moving into measurement in math and working with lines is a neat way to use some of those measurement words (heavier, longer, thicker, and so on).  Or we could continue with the Resident's TE and do some puppetry around her reading comprehension project.

Last week the kids finished their paper dolls - the holding hands kind.  They decorate the one in the middle to look like them and then decorate the other two (they are in threes) to look like two of their friends.  This culminates an ELD/MELD/Social Studies unit.  They get to use paper crafting for the hair (pinch-tearing and quilling) and various cool papers for clothing (this year, I had "kente" paper, glitter paper and glasscrafting paper available).  These are all hanging up holding hands in a giant circle.  A few kids chose to make me one of their friends, I think because my hair offered exciting choices in color work and styling technique.

In other news, I got two new students and now have 18 again.  This makes me happy.  Having a small class is really quite nice - 21 to 16 makes a huge difference in what we do - but also a downer since we all miss the kids who are gone.

One of the kids in my class got hit by a jump rope handle in the after school program.  That child's conference was at the same time, so they brought the kid to my room.  My student wanted me to tell all the kids about the injury (which was minor but bloody).  So I told them that the child had fought a monster, which whipped out with its whippy, spiked tail and hit the child's mouth.  The other kids were extremely impressed.

When the kids have bananas in the school lunch, we have them strip the peels right away so we can compost them for them (it cuts down on the end of lunch to recess transition hysteria, which is bad enough with the milk pouring and the difficulty the kids have in managing all the stuff they have to carry).  We refer to this as getting the bananas out of their pajamas.  So when I came across some stickers with bananas WEARING CLOTHES I had to get those.  We have the best stickers.  I try to buy some for each child's interest: I got puffy robots because I have two children who looooove robots, for instance.  The extrinsic/intrinsic issue is not a big deal; they get stickers when I feel like it and don't generally ask for them (answer: "No.").  Moreover, I have hate for sticker swap city and that tends to lead to children immediately backpacking stickers anyway.

What with the space heater oscillating luscious air, the organic and delicious diet from the school garden, a soothing playlist of international love songs and some delightful egg shells, the snails finally started to ENGAGE IN THE LIFE CYCLE ALREADY.

Alas, they decided to engage in it at the time when the recess assistants and I were cleaning the terrarium.  On the plus side, this made for some excellent science lessons and we got to show our buddy class next door (they are also raising snails and we do silkworms together, too).

On the downside, I am afraid we interrupted the process so badly that we will not get eggs in a few weeks and our snails remain prudish.

Also on the upside though, I have now gotten every kid in the class to decide to hold a snail.  And the one with the broken shell has eaten a mess of chalk and eggshell, leading to shell patches.

Perils of the Early Start

Were we a late-start school, I would not have needed to walk to work in driving rain and hail.  I was very glad for the new space heater.  While my coat was too drenched to dry out in a day, my shoes were only damp by afternoon.

Whenever we get a heavy rain, the drain in the main schoolyard is overwhelmed and we get a neat lake: a giant puddle that can get to be six inches deep.  It has wind-waves and everything.

Yesterday I taught my class how to fold a paper boat.  We made some predictions and went sailing on Lake Elementary.  Then we wrote about it (new vocabulary word: "waterlogged").

It was awesome!  By nine o'clock it was sunny outside, and the breeze came from different directions so the boats sailed all over the place before taking on too much water and sinking.  No one stepped in the lake but one child mostly on accident (well, and then me and the yard teacher doing boat retrieval).  The kids' writing was really good, too; some of them wrote about the process of boat-making, some of them about the experiment.

In short: good times.

Memo to Self

I have a field trip today that is a first-time event: it was arranged through the Nutrition Project and this is the first time they've sent a class to this site or even done this activity as an off-site event.  It involves taking my class on MUNI, and so that we can take one train rather than three buses, we are going to have a little walk.  It is raining at present and gusts are expected all day.

So given all of these factors, an extra-alert teacher would be something good to have.

I'll have to settle for a teacher who kept coming up with new plans in her sleep for making this trip go smoothly and finally gave up on the whole sleep thing at 3:45.

Oh well.  It will be excellent.  I have a full complement of adults - chaperones, Residents and SNCs coming with us.  The hour-by-hour weather report suggests that a picnic lunch on the way back will be a possibility, I have a toque for each child and the best field-trip pants ever.

Of my twenty four pockets, I plan to use:

1. MUNI fare pocket.
2. MUNI transfer pocket.
3. Personal Clipper card and ID pocket.
4. Mobile phone pocket.
5. Emergency car sickness gum/lozenge pocket.
6. Bandaid pocket.
7. Hand wipe pocket.
8. Additional badge pocket.
9. Emergency non-MUNI money pocket.
10. Keys pocket.
11. Chapstick and cold medicine pocket.

That will leave me with a baker's dozen pockets before counting jacket pockets.  EXCELLENT.

I had twenty one students until December, when one moved across the Bay.  Two students moved over the break.  Two more moved out of state this month.  I am taking this personally.  Realistically, I know this is due to many factors for which I am not actually responsible, but I miss my students and I'm still taking it personally.  However, for my remaining sixteen it does mean lots of personal attention and some pretty cool projects, including COIL POTS.  COILING the POTS consumed a great deal of attention, far more than I thought it would, and left the kids tired out by the brain expenditure.

Paranoia, Paranoia

Sometimes I wonder if the academic push in Kindergarten is not on some level intentional.  After all, if we don't provide the space for collaboration, cooperation and empathy, children won't explore these skills.  If we don't value play and creativity, children will not expect recreation and think in expected, well-worn tracks.  If we demand fluent reading and the ability to decode nonsense words, we express the importance of reading to decode - not reading to learn, or to understand, or for enjoyment.  And if legibility is more important than content, we demonstrate the importance of form over function.

All of that would be a really great scheme for boring good workers who don't ask too many questions or expect too much.

Which is why it is very important that we have plenty of snail-racing time and write silly stories about hot dogs, I think.

Art for Art's Sake

Thursday afternoon I got delivery of most of a Donors Choose grant that was entirely extremely fancy crafts stuff:

• flower rhinestones
• wikki stix in large enough quantity for making things to take home
• stamper markers
• fabric shapes
• shiny things
• class pack of scented stix markers (I haaate scented markers, but oh do children love them.)

Anyway, on Friday I put out many of these things and let the kids go to town.  It was a bit more than a half hour of creative exploration with no goal other than making stuff.  I mean, this is Kindergarten, so there was motor development, cooperation and language stuff embedded simply through supply manipulation, having to work with a couple of kids in one's group and describing what you were doing.  But there wasn't any strict content integration, thematic purpose, BIG GOAL or any of that kind of stuff.

It was really quite marvelous.  In fact it was the kind of period where the kids get into little competitions about who can come up with the best description for how great a teacher I am.  I'm not going to lie: a little self-validation by happy five year olds is a great thing.  Beyond that, everyone deserves the opportunity to go to town with a sheet of acrylic gemstone stickers, a sentence strip and some paint.  We all need the opportunity to be creative just for fun.  Everyone should have the chance to use materials that are beautiful (I assure you: acrylic gemstone stickers are beautiful to five year olds).

In other news, I wore a new coat on Friday and no child complimented it.  This was disappointing.  Also this week, a first grader I had last year asked me why all of my clothes are always too big.  Apparently he does not understand why one buys a 100% cashmere coat at a thrift store even if it is a couple of sizes too large (and a swing style at that).  In what may have been some kind of self-subliminal response, the next day I wore a skirt suit with a shorter skirt than I typically wear and was very, very popular with the Princess Society all day long.

We Saw It On Tee Vee.

I am one of those irritating, superior pinkos who does not own a television.  In my own defense, I don't really mention my lack-of-television status and am not opposed to watching television shows on my computer or something.  I forced friends, family members and neighbors to turn over their television for my World Cup viewing pleasure.  When I am not really feeling like working out, some "Countdown" on the gym television can get me piqued enough to get going (True story: I got so aerated reading about Tom DeLay in Mother Jones a few years back that I had to stop exercising and calm down).  I read recaps on Project Rungay.  Etc.  It's just that, what with the ADHD, I have a real problem sitting through entire shows.  Even with the commercial breaks and something to do with my hands, I get distracted.  Then I am irritated because I have missed key plot details.  Also, I am incapable of being home when shows I might want to watch are on and even less capable of recording them proactively.

So spending the money on a television and cable set up seems like a big waste.  I mean, over the course of a year that would put a big crimp in my shopping budget.  Indeed, it might keep me from purchasing new boots.  That would be catastrophic.  Hyperbole is good for you.


Of course, the kids in my class see plenty of television, and from an amazing cornucopia of genres and historical periods at that.  Invariably, 50% of my class is familiar with Chucky.  I do not know what it is about the big, ugly, badly-dressed misogynistic doll with a knife that is so appealing to five year olds.  Having seen maybe twenty minutes of a Chucky movie, though, I know I disapprove.  Sponge Bob is invariably popular; this year my class has a number of Barney fans.  The latter is something of a surprise; usually the dinosaur is "too baby".  Perhaps they skewed the show to attract a new demographic; I no longer try to keep up on Kindergarten Fandom Crazes.

Television has led to some funny events:

1. I have a kid this year who, prior to running, waves his arms in circular motions as if he is in a Warner Brothers cartoon.
2. I had a kid who used to cross his feet, point with both hands and wink as if he were doing the Madison whenever his picture was taken.
3. One kid a couple years back used to make little fists, drop his head back and scream "REVENGE!" whenever irritated.
4. He would also, after teasing a peer or getting in trouble, holler "You'll never take me alive!" and run around the room.
5. Another child makes the "Home Alone" face whenever something untoward happens in a story.

Children's literature is good for this, too.  Mr. Frimdimpny gets imitated a lot, and many cafeteria items require the occasional muncha.  As a last day in 2010 treat, I brought some sugarless bubble gum in for a little Trouble Gum action.

In other news, today's big task is the DMV.  Exciting!  I successfully found glasses I can tolerate, so I am waiting to pick these up.  I got prescriptions refilled, had my old boots fixed and owe the dry cleaner $100 for cleaning (and an alteration on a fine, if salvaged Alberta Ferretti dress, one I am technically capable of doing but far too lazy to actually do).  I need to finish report card comments, but they're done otherwise.  This means that I should be able to get District-printed 8.5X17s, as opposed to classroom-printed 8.5x14s.  All in all, I've been fairly productive over the break.

Lifeskills to Remember and Teach

1. We say "Thank you!" even if we do not like a present.  No one is required to give us anything, after all.  And therefore I cannot complain about this subscription to a whackamole right wing magazine I was just given, and not even as a gag gift.
2. Keep our things neat and clean so that others may use them.  They have to last.  Confidential to the ladies who shop at Saks: this means you, too.  Deodorant marks are a no no.  And if the zipper's that tight, you're not going to buy it.  Take it off.  Otherwise, the zipper is broken for the next shopper - good for my wallet but irritating in the extreme.
3. Say "Hello!" when you answer the phone.  And while you're at it, don't hang up until you know a. who it is and b. why they are calling.  Especially don't hang up when they ask for the teacher: drop the phone and get the teacher.
4. While it may be a lovely song, we are all tired of it after the tenth repetition.  Sadly, this includes the song I have on infinite replay before school starts.  The poor Resident.