From December 15, 2010
To say this was an average day would be a lie. Then again, there are no average days in teaching. Notice the date on this event. December 15. As in, two days before school releases for winter break. If first graders already lack some serious body control (and they do), they lack total motor, emotional, and vocal control in the two weeks before Christmas. And the lack of control grows exponentially with each passing day. Like, they are literally screaming and running around by this point. And everyone knows that doesn't fly in my classroom. Duh.
So, my students have spent the day running around the room screaming, asking when Santa is coming, and trying their best to get me to the top of my threshold for headache pain. I finally get them calm enough to actually sit at their desks, but only with the promise of snack time. Fortunately for the health of my students, ECLCS has a healthy eating grant, including a fresh fruit or vegetable snack for each child every day. Unfortunately for my health and safety, I have to give my tired and hungry students a fresh fruit or vegetable snack every day at 3:30. I announce that today we are having raw green beans. I barely get the words out when I begin to hear the moans and groans, and the riotous demands for Christmas cookies and candy instead. One student shouts, "Do we got some ranch fo' them beans?" I'm afraid to answer because the answer is no, we don't have any ranch. I don't want a pencil in my eye so I pretend not to hear and start passing out the snacks, ranch-less and dry.
I'm plugging along, distributing a Dixie cup of green beans to each child, praying that they like these enough to keep the volume at indoor voices for just 3 minutes. Then I come to Emiliano. Oh, Emiliano. He is such a
sweet, hilariously honest child. He gives his opinion consistently,
whether I want it or not. Now, he is looking up at me with those endearing, bright
blue eyes, and I know it's coming.
"Ms. Foley, did you know if you eat green beans for 177 days in a row, you'll have a baby? Maybe you should eat some!" Now let's remember the lack of vocal control, so he practically shouts this into my face. Suddenly I'm in the spotlight and I have 25 pairs of first-grade eyes on me, waiting to see how I'll respond to his implication that my life is empty because it is childless. I know how much they want me to have a baby. They ask me about it nearly every day, as if this will become a reality if they just keep pestering me (oh wait, that's what I did to my parents when I really wanted something as a kid...makes sense). I frantically wrack my brain before I eek out, "Uh, well you guys are enough babies for me! I don't need any more!"
Oops. Suddenly they're reading me the Riot Act. "We're not babies! We ain't in kindergarten no more!" So much for 3 minutes of solitude. I try my best to backpedal without relinquishing my authority to their demands and I manage to calm them for a few moments with, "No, you're my babies because I care about you so much! How could I ever want children of my own when I have your sweet faces here with me every day?"
Suddenly I hear Rayne chime in with an, "Awwww!" and her arms lock around me. "I love you, Ms. Foley!" And now 3 more minions have practically tackled me with their hugs. I pat their heads and sigh in relief. Yup, I saved the day. Phew. Oh wait, we still have to pack up and have Closing Circle. I may have pacified them for now, but I know the mayhem that ensues during the seemingly simple act of packing a backpack with homework and books.
My babies, I love you. But I really need winter break.
Love,
Ms. Foley
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
The Beginning
For the last 3 years, I have been teaching at East Chicago Lighthouse Charter School in East Chicago, Indiana. To say that it's been quite an experience would be the understatement of all understatements. I have laughed, sobbed tears of joy and frustration, and shouted in anger, relief and elation. I have learned about tough love, unconditional love, pushing students to dream big about college and careers, and I've learned that sometimes you just have to let kids be kids.
During my teaching years, I consistently updated my facebook status to capture the funniest and most heartwarming moments in my classroom. Eventually, I had a faithful following of friends who loved the posts and wanted to hear the full stories behind them. Countless people suggested, "Oh, you should keep a blog!" or "You should write a book!" And all I would ever think is "Uh-huh, yeah, I'd buy that book. It would be hilarious because I have the best kids ever. But when am I going to write it? I work 60 hours a week!"
But lo and behold, my teaching career has come to an end. As I type, I'm sitting in my very strangely empty and lifeless classroom. Surely there should be artwork on the walls, crayons and pencils scattered on the floor, children talking far too loudly, and Naiome walking around even though I told her 2.7 seconds ago to sit in her chair. Instead, I've packed up all of my teaching materials, which now sit in boxes in my car. I've cleaned out all the desks and stacked up the chairs. I've boxed up the classroom library, math manipulatives, and art supplies and placed everything on permanent shelves. Sky blue butcher paper neatly covers these materials so the soot from the East Chicago air doesn't settle on top of them this summer. This room needs a massive scouring and lots of love from a future teacher. But more than that, it needs the sound of children's laughter and musical voices. It needs learning, action, and excitement.
But I digress. I find myself staring at 2 weeks off before starting my new job (not a teaching job...who am I if I'm not Ms. Foley?). I find myself reminiscing about my experiences here and wishing I'd kept a blog all along. I know that I won't be able to write a book anytime in the near future. What I do know is I can commit to documenting my stories one by one. In this blog, I will be reflecting on my teaching career and writing the full stories for as many of the heartwarming (and not-so-heartwarming) moments as I can remember. I'm hoping that writing them all down will jog my memory and surface the moments I can't seem to remember now. I'm also hoping that this blog will make writing my book a heck of a lot easier some day.
I'm a bit OCD, and I also strongly dislike the word "hate." So, I strongly dislike that this blog may be out of chronological order. I'm going to skip around and write the stories as I remember them, so please forgive me for that. Feel free to leave me your honest (and polite) feedback. My hope it that these stories will bring you laughter and give you a window into the life I've lived for the last 3 years with the most incredible children I've ever known.
And now, as I've signed every morning message to my students for 3 years:
Love,
Ms. Foley
During my teaching years, I consistently updated my facebook status to capture the funniest and most heartwarming moments in my classroom. Eventually, I had a faithful following of friends who loved the posts and wanted to hear the full stories behind them. Countless people suggested, "Oh, you should keep a blog!" or "You should write a book!" And all I would ever think is "Uh-huh, yeah, I'd buy that book. It would be hilarious because I have the best kids ever. But when am I going to write it? I work 60 hours a week!"
But lo and behold, my teaching career has come to an end. As I type, I'm sitting in my very strangely empty and lifeless classroom. Surely there should be artwork on the walls, crayons and pencils scattered on the floor, children talking far too loudly, and Naiome walking around even though I told her 2.7 seconds ago to sit in her chair. Instead, I've packed up all of my teaching materials, which now sit in boxes in my car. I've cleaned out all the desks and stacked up the chairs. I've boxed up the classroom library, math manipulatives, and art supplies and placed everything on permanent shelves. Sky blue butcher paper neatly covers these materials so the soot from the East Chicago air doesn't settle on top of them this summer. This room needs a massive scouring and lots of love from a future teacher. But more than that, it needs the sound of children's laughter and musical voices. It needs learning, action, and excitement.
But I digress. I find myself staring at 2 weeks off before starting my new job (not a teaching job...who am I if I'm not Ms. Foley?). I find myself reminiscing about my experiences here and wishing I'd kept a blog all along. I know that I won't be able to write a book anytime in the near future. What I do know is I can commit to documenting my stories one by one. In this blog, I will be reflecting on my teaching career and writing the full stories for as many of the heartwarming (and not-so-heartwarming) moments as I can remember. I'm hoping that writing them all down will jog my memory and surface the moments I can't seem to remember now. I'm also hoping that this blog will make writing my book a heck of a lot easier some day.
I'm a bit OCD, and I also strongly dislike the word "hate." So, I strongly dislike that this blog may be out of chronological order. I'm going to skip around and write the stories as I remember them, so please forgive me for that. Feel free to leave me your honest (and polite) feedback. My hope it that these stories will bring you laughter and give you a window into the life I've lived for the last 3 years with the most incredible children I've ever known.
And now, as I've signed every morning message to my students for 3 years:
Love,
Ms. Foley
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