Teaching Literature

The novel Maus I: My Father Bleeds History, written and illustrated by Art Spiegelman, tells the story of Spiegelman’s father, Vladek, a survivor of the Holocaust. Spiegelman, who chooses to depict Jewish people as mice and Nazis as cats, tells his father’s story as though he is interviewing him for a book (which is the book that we as readers are currently ingesting). Art’s relationship with Vladek is tumultuous, with Art’s mother having committed suicide a number of years before. They bicker back and forth, but Art eventually convinces his father in each chapter to continue telling him the story of how he survived as a Polish Jew. Vladek’s story takes the reader back as far as World War I as he tells his son about how his own father survived the frontlines. His story moves quickly into the beginnings of World War II, the Nazi occupation of Poland, many stories of evasion and hiding, and ultimately ends as Vladek and his wife are taken to Auschwitz. The ending is abrupt, but Spiegelman continues his story in a second book entitled Maus II: And Here My Troubles Began.

As with many novels dealing with the Holocaust, Spiegelman’s text explores the themes of persecution and the survival underneath that persecution. Every character’s sense of determination is tested by their surroundings and their enemies. The tone of the novel is also quite dark. The panels of each page are very dark when Vladek is telling stories from his past, and the pages only have a strong light-color palate when there is humor, or no fear/tension. Another important theme is that of relationships, both between family and community. In the flashbacks, there is a strong bond between the family members and fellow Jewish Poles. They must stick together to survive, and when the need for survival actually requires them to split apart, they are torn with what the best decision should be: survival, or loss of contact with those that you care about? In the present-day story of Art and his father, there is a family tension between all members, and that adds to the story’s realism and believability.

I think that telling the story of Maus in the form of a graphic novel works very well. Because of its medium, Maus is a perfect vehicle to deliver the heavy material of a memoir dealing with the Holocaust. If this exact same story had been told using actual humans, it would have been less memorable, and probably less critically acclaimed. Even though the story is moving, it would have felt like simply another story about the Holocaust. I felt that the portrayal of the Jews as mice made me more sympathetic towards them. I have never had a phobia or distaste for mice; my general conception of them is that they are innocent, frail creatures. I believe Spiegelman intended this with his characters while simultaneously referencing that Hitler considered the Jews to be “vermin.” Perhaps Spiegelman knew that the Holocaust was a heavily discussed part of world history, even back in 1973, and knew that no matter how heartrending his story was, people were becoming slightly numb, or used to survivor tales. It was clear that I was not numb to this story, either, since the extremely abrupt ending ripped me out of the engrossed state which I was in and left me wanting to know more.

There are a number of methods in which a teacher could use Maus in a lesson. I definitely see this text fitting in best with other Holocaust literature since some sort of accompaniment text would be helpful in tackling the larger themes of the Holocaust. Using technology to aid in teaching Maus at first comes off as daunting – teaching a graphic novel on its own can be daunting since not many teachers can remember learning about graphic novels in school. Both teaching graphic novels and the use of technology in the classroom are relatively new ideas to the standard Language Arts classroom. An application such as VoiceThread allows the class to look at the pages together as a class. It would be difficult to lead a class conversation and have the students follow along in their own books, hoping that they pick out the exact detail that you are describing to them. By putting the pages and panels in a medium in which the whole class can contribute thoughts and doodles, the process of teaching becomes more efficient, streamlined, and accessible. Other kinds of technologies would also be effective, such as programs that allow students to create their own graphic novels on the computer. This focuses more on the art of the medium in which the stories are told, and not as heavily on the content of the text, but both are important when working with graphic novels.

Spiegelman, Art. Maus I: My Father Bleeds History. New York: Pantheon Books, 1986. Print.

In Patricia McCormick’s Sold, 13-year-old Lakshmi is the focal point of a story that explores sex trafficking in India. Originally from a hillside village outside Nepal, she is the only daughter of her mother (who she lovingly calls Ama) and her stepfather, a man who spends what little money the family has on gambling. The family is very poor, and cannot even afford a tin roof like most of their neighbors. Lakshmi describes her life as simple, yet that of a farmer girl who works very hard with not much money to show for it. In this opening scene of Lakshmi’s life, McCormick introduces us to a running theme that women in this culture are to be subservient, no matter how immature or uncaring their male counterparts might be. Eventually, Lakshmi’s stepfather sells her into prostitution and Lakshmi is taken to India, unaware of what she is about to become. Through the story of her experience in the brothel, McCormick delivers a heartrending picture of Lakshmi’s perseverance through the horrible extremes of sex trafficking young girls.

Due to the heavy issues of this novel in both human trafficking and the role of women in this culture as mere objects, I had a tough time simply turning the pages and reading about what would happen to Lakshmi next. I found the book to be incredibly powerful and simultaneously maddening. In the beginning, I could not believe how negligent the stepfather was. I let out a sigh of disgust as McCormick describes how her neighbor, “who doesn’t go to the town to gamble every day” (McCormick 32), had taken time to build a sort of dam against the flood waters and protect his family’s crops. Because her own stepfather did not do a similar thing, the family is even worse off than they were before, and needs a new way to make money. Because of her stepfather’s actions, Lakshmi eventually lands in an Indian brothel. It was infuriating to think that her time there could have been avoided. McCormick goes to an extreme here to show the plight of women in this culture, and it works effectively. It also works as she describes the life inside the brothel. As a reader, I wanted to yell out at the women in the brothel, who firmly believed that life could somehow be worse outside their brothel than it already was inside. Written in lyrical prose, McCormick’s descriptions of Lakshmi’s situation are heartbreaking, but in the last line of the book, all of Lakshmi’s resilient actions pay off, which make the book that much more powerful and memorable.

If I were to teach Sold, I would need some part of the discussion each day to be held in a large group format. I could understand using book club or literature circles, but at some point I think the class would need to share out loud as a group how they are feeling about this novel. The issues presented are extremely important, and can possibly be a little too heavy to hope that a group of 4 or 5 students on their own will be able to pick up on everything. I think that reader’s theater lends itself well to a large group discussion, though I would take what we did today and stretch it out to two days. After each group’s performance, there needs to be time to discuss WHY each group chose their lines, and what they felt their lines conveyed. I think the small group INTO large group format is the way to explore the themes of the novel most fully. Overall, the book is very teachable, and moreover is written in an easy-to-read format, even if some of the scenes and concepts are not as easy to understand.

McCormick, Patricia. Sold. New York: Hyperion Paperbacks, 2006. Print.

In Ann Jaramillo’s La Linea, 15-year-old Miguel narrates his own story in trying to cross the border into America from Mexico. Miguel comes from an impoverished family living in the poor Mexican town of San Jacinto. He lives with his sister Elena and his grandmother on a small farm, and waits for the day that his parents, who have already crossed over into America, will send for both his sister and him. When the day comes for Miguel to finally make his way across the border (or la linea and la frontera), his sister Elena secretively tries to join his journey, thus plummetting the careful plans for crossing into a tale of survival. Together, Miguel and Elena try to make their way by bus, train, and foot across the desert and reach the border. Through this journey and the interpersonal stories of Miguel and Elena, Jaramillo examines the strength of familial relatioinships, and what it means to be belong to something. She also provides an overarching theme of hope and overcoming obstacles, ultimately posing the question to the reader, “What kind of lineas must we cross to survive in life?”

I enjoyed Jaramillo’s novel because I felt the story was realistic. Even though my only knowledge of border-crossing is what I learned in high school and read about in the newspaper, this first-person, teenage perspective seems like a legitimate version of some of the stories of crossing over into the United States. Jaramillo has a clear voice and her simple structure and vocabulary (even with Spanish thrown in to the dialogue) allows the narrative to flow. My biggest compliment for this novel was that it came across very smoothly, even though the story itself was harsh and left me feeling unfulfilled. I say “unfulfilled” because I believe this was Jaramillo’s intention: the ending of the novel is desperately anti-climactic. We arrive at the big moment, of Elena and Miguel reaching the top of the hill and seeing the traffic that leads into the city, and immediately flash forward ten years. There is no falling action, there is no recognition of the climax. Instead, there is a 10-year vacancy followed by a denouement that tells the reader things did not turn out as wonderfully as everyone hoped. I am extremely glad that Jaramillo ended her story in this way, because it solidifies the reality of such a tale. Things do not always work out the way one hopes, especially in such a drastic situation like Miguel’s. It highlights the theme of belonging and hope that Jaramillo reaches for. Miguel, as a 15-year-old in San Jacinto, knows only that he wants to get to America because he feels he is too poor to live where he is now, and because his family is there. There is no acknowledgment of anything further, just that getting to America is apparently what the people in his village strive to do. Ultimately, Jaramillo wants us to realize that “belonging” is a battle between being with the ones who love you and being in a place where you must be to survive.

This book is quite teachable, and I would want to teach it with some variety of supplemental material. In class, the book club group said they would pair this with our previous book, The Absolutely True Diarty of  Part-Time Indian, in order to provide a multi-cultural look at what is meant by the American Dream. This would be a great text for exploring such a topic, but it would also be good if looking specifically at race relations with Mexico, or the history of immigration. It could be used in a social studies course, too, such as US History. I would want to cross genres with this text, perhaps pairing it with Nancy Farmer’s The House of the Scorpion  in order to demonstrate different viewpoints of the same issue. I also think that this is a good book to read for the “book club” format because the variety of themes and strong central characters lends itself well to a thought-provoking conversation with peers. Moreover, peers could help others identify the Spanish vocabulary. I also see this working with lit circles, and possibly Socratic circles, as well. It is a quick read, too, so it would probably be looked at in a more positive light by the students.

Jaramillo, Ann. La Linea. Harrisonburg: R.R. Donnelly & Sons Company, 2006. Print.

It was a difficult realization I had to come to last Friday afternoon as I took several of my students’ final projects out of my car and carried them into my apartment. I set them on the coffeetable and sat down on the couch with a big sigh. I was exhausted from the week and felt like slumping to my right and taking a much needed nap. Before I assumed the familiar position, though, I glanced at the calendar on the wall and suddenly realized that I would not be in front of a classroom again for more than three months. It was a sinking feeling. While I clearly was ready for a break after my first week of being in the lion’s den, I was not ready to give it up; I wanted to be back in front of the kids a lot sooner than in three months.

There were so many things to love about this experience, and (luckily) only a handful of things I could have done without. Even the things I wish I would have done differently I wouldn’t change. Those were the moments in which I was steadily learning how to engage students and adapt to the surroundings. And these were probably the two most important things I learned.

It would be easy to say that creating a lesson plan, preparing a classroom, or classroom management were the most useful things I learned. They were all brand new concepts to me, and I feel like I was able to successfully approach and accomplish each one. However, student engagement and on-the-spot adaptation might have more long-term implications than any of the others. Lesson planning, classroom prep, and a handle on classroom management can become static, inherent traits that teachers can do with their eyes closed after enough time practicing. This is not a bad thing by any means, but I know that it is something that I could have learned in any teaching situation. With this Crosswinds experience, I felt that engaging students with the materials in front of them, and getting them excited about what we were doing was the most fun and the most lasting impression that the whole thing had on me.

There was one student in particular who was extremely quiet, and who said he was in our class because his parents made him take it. For the first three days, the three of us attempted to ask him questions, or get him to work on his worksheets. The first day’s exit slip, for example, took a lot of effort on both sides to simply get his name on the paper. At the end of class, that ended up being the only thing written. He would “check out” of the discussions, and immediately start reading his enormous novel that he brought with him to class every day. Finally, on our workday on Thursday, I sat down with him as the whole class worked individually on the settings for their stories. He was always willing to talk one-on-one, but the moment one of us left, he would immediately return to his book. This time, I asked him about the setting of his fantasy story. He talked to me all about the castles and kingdoms, and the kings and princes and wizards that lived in them. I told him that science fiction was able to use these things. He began to withdraw again, and I could see that he was getting it, but not latching on. I asked him what he liked about technology and he started talking about computer programs and operating systems. I said that he could apply those to a fantasy setting, kind of a mash-up, and his eyes lit up. The next day, during presentations, he was very excited to share his idea with others.

In terms of on-the-spot adaptation, I know that this is something other schools could teach me. However, given the freedom allowed to us by Crosswinds, there was much more room to adapt and to learn how to do so. For example, we needed to change some of our plans due to soem students not taking a hold of the day’s lesson, or because time constraints spoke differently. On other occasions, we decided the kids needed a significant break in the day and we were able to use the school grounds as a way to break up the 2.5-hour class period. While the on-the-spot adaptations were not drastic (again, mainly time constraints), we still had the flexibility to work with these issues due to our situation.

There were so many things I learned from this experience. I learned that a well conceived lesson plan with backup plans can be the difference in a room full of easily distracted middle school students. I learned that taking control of a classroom can be easier said than done if you do not have some ground rules laid out. I learned that the strategies and techniques we have been using in our own classrooms at the University are actually applicable and can work depending on the types of students one is working with.

Perhaps most importantly, though, I learned that teaching is not only something to which I am drawn, but also something in which I am completely comfortable and at home. I originally became a teacher because I love literature and writing, and I wanted to impress this love upon others. It was a slightly selfish reason, but I wanted students to realize how important it can be to appreciate all of life’s little intricacies and every day events. I STILL feel this way, but now I feel that my role as a teacher is not only to share the knowledge of such literature and technique, but to help students find what they like themselves, and then open the door to all the possibilities from there.

As I gave in to the power of the cushions and stretched the full-length of my couch, I smiled to myself. Yes, I was bummed I wouldn’t be teaching again for three months, but the fact that this bothered me told me that this was something I really, truly enjoyed. I was happy because I felt that I had made the right decision.

I fell asleep knowing that I was going to be a good teacher.

There are a number of conflicting emotions currently running through me as I reflect solely on this last day of intersession at Crosswinds. While I will save my overall intersession summary and reflection for the next post, I do just want to briefly say that today was the perfect end to such a surprising week, and that it left me feeling like maybe this teaching thing is exactly what I want to be doing.

The final day, the final project, and the final presentations were a success. All week the students had been developing their ideas for their final project: a presentation that showcased the main concepts (theme, plot, character, setting) of their story ideas. We began the day with a simple science fiction story, mainly so that they could hear one more version of a short story, and so they could demonstrate to us that they understood the theme, plot, character and setting aspects of the story. They responded well, but it was clear that they were aching to finish their projects before they had to present them. In what might have been the single quietest moment of the week, all the students worked diligently on their final poster boards. I learned from these allotted worktimes that providing a multitude of outlets for the students’ creativity is essential to engaging them in the topic at hand.

One technique I used to intrigue the students was to cover up the “speed dating” format of presentation and all the questions that came with it on the white board in the front of the room. I would not call it misleading, but the hidden board definitely intrigued the students and made them think that there was big and important news that I was eventually going to share with them. After giving them ample time to work on their projects, we then pulled back the curtain and presented the concept of speed dating. The reception to this went much better than we thought, and the three of us modeled exactly how we wanted the students to present and rotate. The students did not show any signs of hesistancy, but they also didn’t think it was the coolest idea in the world (which is probably more than we could have asked for). They then began presenting and…

Amazing. The noise and chatter that filled the room as the students rushed to present their ideas and learn about others’ was infectious. Walking around and listening to each pair, I heard the students correctly describing the different aspects of their story that we had been driving at all week. Formatively and summatively, it was an assessment which would have garnered each individual student high marks. This was the most rewarding part of the week by far.

What worked about this last day was that the students had been hatching their idea(s) all week long and now they finally had a chance to burst out and share it. I think we did a great job of building each day to lead to today’s outpouring of chatter. At the end of the day, more than half of the students wanted to take their finished product home to either display it or use it to work on the full-length stories.

We ended the day on Futurama, more as a reward to the students than anything else. This kind of positive reinforcement for a job well done seemed to serve the students well at the end of the unit: it suggested that they were done, and that there was one last object of enjoyment to be pulled from the day.

During our break there was one behavioral issue I had to address when two boys were horsing around. This was the only time all week I had to pull a student aside and talk to them, but they were respectful of what I had to say and I made sure that they knew that they were allowed to have fun on the last day of intersession, but at nobody else’s physical expense.

As a day on its own, this last day was a great way to assess the students, to see them engaged in the final project, and to see how they felt about the class as a whole. I will discuss at greater length how this day was a culmination of the week, but on its own, it was a successful day in terms of lessons taught and following our plan. As with most days, there were time modifications that we had to make (more time to work on individual projects, shortened end-of-class activity, etc.), but I learned that our thought-out lesson plan really provided a great format for the day.

It was bittersweet when the final bell rang and the kids took off, but if I know anything it’s that this was not the last bell I have heard in my own classroom.

I’m sensing a theme in my posts, and it involves explaining at the beginning of each one how I was dead-wrong about my previous day’s assumptions. I said yesterday that if there was any day upon which the dam would burst, it would be workshop day. Guess what? Today was almost flawless. Very little behavior issues, very good clock-management, and we even got a few of the reclusive students to really start developing their story ideas. Following these trends, I’m going to make sure I predict another horrible day tomorrow, just to ensure that it’s the best one of the week.

Lindsey took charge this morning and began the day with a review of setting. We worried that reading them a picture book (without showing the pictures) would either be belittling, or poorly received in some other way. Instead, they followed along intently while also picking a scene as it was read and drawing that setting. They were also really engaged when Lindsey read the story again and this time showed the pictures – the kids were excited when what they drew/predicted was the same as the scene in the pictures. We reinforced these accurate predictions by explaining that a clear and descriptive text can easily paint a picture for the reader. Moving on to their OWN settings, we gave them the choice to either draw or write about their own settings. We had to make modifications (much as we did the rest of the day) to allow them MORE time to work on the individual parts of their projects. It wasn’t that they weren’t using the allotted time to work on their plot/character/setting/theme, it was that many of them had such enormous ideas that they couldn’t get it all done in the 15-20 minutes of time we were allowing them. We will give them time tomorrow, more than we have allotted on our lesson plan, so that they feel they are getting the most out of their final project.

At my individual work station, I worked with the students on plot. The highlight of this part of the day was that I was really able to see students’ ideas developing. One student, who had been disconnected for the first three days of class, was finally starting to develop ideas, and I was able to connect with him on a level outside of science fiction in order to get him excited about the prospect of creating a story. As for the rest of the students, I was able to work with each person on a one-on-one basis, listening to their plots and then asking them things like “where is your climax?” and “do you want to resolve this conflict, or leave it open-ended?” I felt like the metacognitive process of writing a story was showing in each of their individual efforts, and this pleased me greatly.

There were practically zero behavioral issues to report on today, probably because the students were engaged across the board. This gets me very excited for tomorrow. There were several students who asked to take worksheets home, and who kept asking if they were going to be allowed to keep their final projects so that they could actually write the story they were planning. This might have been the most rewarding part of the day. I am no longer apprehensive or nervous for this final project. I feel that even if the students think “speed-dating” sounds gross, they will still enjoy sharing their stories with their peers. I shouldn’t second guess anything we have planned, though — so far each activity has worked to keep the students actively thinking, constantly working, and consistently engaged in the final project and the readings/lessons along the way.

Tomorrow will be a great relief and also slightly bittersweet. As of right now, I have truly enjoyed teaching, and I am looking forward to the day when the 5th day of a lesson doesn’t mean the end of the experience, but simply the end of the week.

I think today will be my best day of teaching from the week. Today was a lesson in plot and I had a special connection to the lesson since I had planned most of this day on my own – it actually felt like mine, and the results made me very pleased with how things turned out. I spent the first part of the lesson tapping into students’ previous knowledge of plot, and then applying their knowledge of Little Red Riding Hood to both a plot diagram and a six-box story board. This proved to be very effective, and the kids seemed to like having options on how to best show “plot.” (One slight modification we made for tomorrow’s lesson is that we will be supplying BOTH kinds of worksheets so the students can choose how to best present their plot.) I kept referring back to the learned terms on the board (rising action, climax, denouement/resolution, etc.) as we read through our first story together so that they had concrete examples of the terms. On the fly, Lindsey and I decided to read the first story out loud TWICE; the first just to listen, the second to follow along and mark the important parts. This was risky, since I wasn’t sure how the kids would be at paying attention to a short story twice, but it worked well since the second time we asked them to actually read through.

I learned from the students’ discussion with their nearby peers that the stories do not always provoke the intended discussion, but that all discussion is good. One group of boys quickly transitioned their discussion of “what is the climax” to whether or not the teacher’s death (which, incidentally, WAS the climax) was a suicide, murder, or accident. I decided not to interfere in their small group discussion and let them just talk it out. I learned first hand that conversation about text, even if only slightly directed, is good no matter what – any kind of discussion about the text will further understanding.

Another modification issue I ran into was again running out of classtime. My worry from yesterday that I would not have enough meat in this lesson was completely unfounded, and I actually had to make a decision at the end of class: do I skip the movie trailers (which was for a discussion on different genres of science fiction), or do I skip the exit slips which show us that they are starting to think about the plot for their own story? I decided to go with the movie trailers since they had been excited about watching them all class period, and figured that we had a pretty good idea of how well they grasped plot based on their in-class worksheets. The movie trailers worked okay, and it got the students talking about genre, however the conversation was not as focused as I would have liked, and there were a number of unchained thoughts flying around the room after each clip. This activity was not so much about retention, but rather to get them in the mindset to think about what THEIR story’s genre was going to be.

The last strategy that I’ll talk about was the “5-question” strategy (which we modified to a “2-question” strategy for time) in small groups when we read Asimov’s piece, The Fun They Had. This pre-/during-reading activity showed that the kids really were curious about the piece they were reading, and we were able to then address their questions after the reading, making the questions feel like they truly meant something.

There were a couple behavior issues today, such as a few boys playing “prisoner” – it caused me to wonder if the kid in the middle, obviously younger and smaller than the others, truly was enjoying it, as he said, or if he felt he HAD to play along with the older boys. It bordered on inappropriate, but there was also no harm being done. When at first they didn’t listen to me, I decided to let them play until we got back in the building, at which point I firmly told them to stop. In hindsight, I wish I would have put my foot down earlier, but I didn’t know how to deal with “boys being boys.” This is something I think will come with experience and a better understanding of school rules on MY part.

For some reason, I almost feel like things this week are going TOO well. I truly enjoyed teaching today, and was so glad with how smoothly the class is going over halfway through the week. Is it because we got lucky and got a class with students who value behaving well? Is it because our lesson plan is rock solid (probably not)? Is it because we are actually naturally gifted and awesome teachers who can handle and prevent all behavioral problems and help students understand anything and everything? Is the dam actually about to burst on us and we’re going to lose interest? I think tomorrow will be the telling day. With a workshop day planned, the students will need to have something to work on for a full hour. It helps that we are in rotating stations, and our final project demands that the students execute four separate pieces. All that being said, if there is one day in our weekly lesson plan that could yield problem, the workshop day may be that day.

Until then, however, things couldn’t possibly be any better unless an administrator walked through the door tomorrow and offered all of us jobs.

Day two is in the books and I can officially push the fear of reading out of my mind. After yesterday, Josh, Lindsey and I all felt that a day with two difficult texts was going to be much more tenuous than showing them a video and leading them in a game of Theme Jeopardy. This fear, however, proved to be unwarranted as the students ended up not only enjoying the texts we presented them, but demonstrating an understanding of both character and setting.

What we felt would be our hardest text going into today, Harrison Bergeron, actually was the students’ most engaging piece. They really enjoyed discussing the character traits and liked the eccentricity of some of the main characters. Our small group technique of “think-alouds” for character descriptions worked well not only in groups of 5 or 6, but also when we returned to large group and had a post-reading discussion. We made a T-chart on the board of “What we know about the characters” and “How we know these things.” The students really grasped the concept of different ways in which the author can show a character’s traits (not only through physical description, but through what they say and how they act, too). We had one student, a sixth-grader, who even grasped the irony of one of the character descriptions, which felt very rewarding to us since we got them talking about these things. Overall, the story worked perfectly in terms of length, accessibility, and vocabulary.

The character worksheets (exit slips) worked as a great jumping off point for the students. It allowed them to think about the different parts of their characters that they wanted to describe. We have one student who does not like to read or write, and when we worked on our character sheets, we allowed him to draw his characters. This worked well and he enjoyed creating two characters when we were only asking for one.

We actually ran out of time today which made me really, really happy. While it meant that the students didn’t get to turn in an exit slip showing us they understood “setting,” we still were able to formatively assess their comprehension based on in-class discussion. I would prefer to run out of time each day, however, then fill the end of a 2.5-hour period with fluff.

We also addressed student conduct in homeroom today, basically because there were some students yesterday who were snapping pencils that belonged to the school and were talking while others were speaking in class. We talked about respecting things and others, and whenever someone was speaking today out of turn, we simply had to ask them to respect the person answering the teacher’s question and they did so.

Things are going extraordinarily well. I really felt today would give us a hiccup, and maybe that hiccup is still coming, but as it is right now, I think things are flowing smoothly. As I sit here looking at tomorrow’s lesson plan, I honestly cannot think of anything I would modify at this point. Should we run out of time (which I doubt), we will be able to formatively assess the students through their in-class worksheets. I don’t see a need to modify anything drastically at this point.

Tomorrow my main concern is whether or not the class will get too long for the students. Today we were able to fill two hours of class with both setting and character, but tomorrow we will only be discussing plot (though tying it back to theme at every opportunity we can). Is there enough meat in this topic for a two-hour class period? I am looking forward to working with two shorter stories and showing movie trailers and video clips, which are always a good way to ensure student interest, especially with this group. Also, tomorrow is the day that I planned for the class personally, so I will be the “showrunner” tomorrow on many different points. I am very eager to get in front of the class and lead them in discussion and lesson-teaching.

To be clear, and to make sure that my initial emotions and impressions are with the reader before I get lost in talking about the first day, let me just say this: Holy. Freaking. Awesome.

As I mentioned yesterday, I went into today with butterflies fighting the War of 1812 in my stomach and the rest of my gut auditioning for Cirque du Soleil as a contortionist. Hyperbole aside, I was nervous. We arrived well ahead of schedule, gathered our supplies, and headed to our rooms. The moment I stepped in side and began writing the daily goals on the board, I started getting loose. Just as I was feeling ready to face everything head on, the bell rang and the floor literally shook with the footsteps of kids running towards our classrooms. It was then that I tightened and readied the hull — but it was all for naught, because it took about 10 seconds for me to feel at home and comfortable.

Getting down to the brass tacks, there were many moments of success throughout the first day. In all honesty, I slightly credit this to the fact we did not have any reading the first day. What fully engaged the students more than anything else was asking them what they knew about science fiction, and what they liked about it. Whether it was raising hands or shouting out answers, most of the students truly enjoyed talking about science fiction and the “cool” parts about it (see: teleportation, laser blasters, and killer robots). They also were entranced by watching an episode of “Futurama,” a cartoon in the likeness of The Simpsons that takes place 1,000 years from now. They found it very funny, and were very engaged in our post-viewing discussion, too, though there were slight distractions in some students who weren’t quite ready to remove themselves from the viewing experience and begin talking. The final thing that worked wonders was “Theme Jeopardy” in which the the students were given a theme and had to guess the story it was for. The kids loved this activity, and want to play more as the week goes on (a possible modification we may make).

However, as engaged as the students were with theme, the “final jeopardy” question and the exit slip assignment revealed to the three of us that perhaps the concept of “theme” hadn’t been fully grasped. There was a mix of those who “got it,” and those who simply gave us a very brief plot summary. I am thinking of ways that we can avoid this problem in the future, and I think perhaps more modeling and concrete examples will help. I think that theme is a slightly vague concept, and can be difficult to accurately define, even for a practiced reader/writer. We wanted to start with the more difficult concept so that we could refer to it as this week moves along. We will see how it works, but I have a feeling that by workshop day (Thursday), there will be a better understanding of theme.

Going into today, I was very nervous about classroom management. While some of our fellow teachers’ worst fears were realized across the hall, I honestly feel we have a lucky draw of students. Our biggest issue is that a couple students blatantly told us they did not want to be there, and only came because their parents wanted them to. I am curious as to how we will best “reach” these students, or if we’re just supposed to make them as comfortable as possible as they try not to suffer this one out.

Overall, I am very pleased with today, and think that as teachers we did a good job of blind planning. The students enjoyed what we brought to the table, and our lesson plan timed out almost perfectly. Naturally, we lost a lot of students’ attention as we entered into the final 5-10 minutes of a 150-minute class period, and that will be a challenge for us tomorrow. I am apprehensive about the readings for tomorrow, not only because there are two of them, but also because they represent two of our more difficult texts for the week. I expect that we will lose some interest in stories, but with the right amount of energy we should be able to keep the students engaged and learning more about character and setting with regard to science fiction stories.

It’s been one day, but so far I think I could get used to this whole teaching thing.

Today is Sunday, November 15, 2009, and as of this moment I have never stood in front of a class without a teacher’s assistance, with my own lesson plan in hand, and proceeded to teach a group of students a thing or two about literature and the rich world of books.

I will be unable to make such a claim after tomorrow. Tomorrow, I teach science fiction to middle schoolers.

After several Wednesday mornings of visiting, observing, and working with Crosswinds students, I feel like I have a better understanding of a middle school student. Unfortunately, that understanding is that for many middle school students, there is no rhyme or reason. To be fair, that is not entirely accurate. In administering a Content Reading Inventory (CRI) and a couple other interest inventories, there are some predictable patterns to the way middle school students will work with and react to literature. However, tomorrow I will have a classroom with 19 adolescent boys and girls and even with all of the classes and observations, I feel wholly unprepared.

I DO feel prepared in that the other two teachers and I have a solid week-long lesson plan that uses a variety of reading and instructional strategies, and I also feel prepared because of the positive encouragement from professors and friends/family.  However, I have so many questions about what to expect that no number of Q&A sessions could possibly help. What happens when the lesson plan falls short, or goes horribly off track due to some unforeseen circumstance? What do I do with the student(s) who are having trouble “getting” it? What happens if all the technology breaks down and we have to go off script?

Maybe most importantly, what happens when we come face to face with classroom management? None of us have managed classrooms, nor have we had classes that teach us what to do. We will be following Crosswinds policies, rules, and mission statement, but what else will we need when one of the students simply refuses to stay in their seat because they choose to ignore our authority? And what of the students with special needs? We have a handful in our classroom, and I have never worked directly with students with special needs before.

In terms of specifics, I am excited to be teaching in the classroom that I am. There is still that “new school” smell in all the halls and rooms of Crosswinds, and I hope that the students share the same excitement for the material. Clearly there will be those few students who perhaps did not get their first choice of class and do not really know what science fiction even is, and that makes me nervous. But it also makes me excited to introduce a new area of literature to them, and to do it in such a way that is fun and free. And if at the end of 5 days they choose not to return to the genre, I will be content knowing that I did my job as a teacher to at least introduce them to the possibilities of it.

Right now, I am filled with questions and anxiety. It’s not a bad anxiety; I do not feel apprehensive about walking away unscathed or anything of the sort. My biggest concern is this: On the first day of my first legitimate teaching role, will I be a good teacher? Will I be able to engage the students’ interest and help them learn something new? Will I be good at this career that I am setting out for myself?

I have to assume that I will be, and I have to assume that though I may come away with battle scars by week’s end, I will be stronger and better because of them. See you on the other side.