Hesitation Stomach

I am going to write a blog about my student teaching. I am going to write this quickly when I get home and not worry about what it says or how it says things. I want to reflect on this art or this science of teaching I have begun to practice. I think about school too much sometimes, like when the moon is really pretty, sometimes I think about school, and not the moon, and I want to just tell you everything and maybe I just need to tell it to myself. "A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." And so I begin.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Driving to school in the darkness, morning darkness. Okay, i'll say it. I'm nervous.
Then, walking into the school. Everything is the same. This is still the same place.
Printing off my handouts in the library from my e-mail account because I don't have a printer at home - yes, that's the same.

I started writing the daily journal on the white-board and one of my students said, realizing my mentor teacher is now gone for 30 days, "Where's Mr. D? He's the best part of my day! What am I gonna do?" Deflated. Right there. But, I plowed onward.

I took fourth hour into the commons and we played a social-emotional learning game and shared about our break. One of my students said he felt like he was in kindergarten. Awww, yeah! I was surprised when W. shared that his girlfriend broke up with him. I am glad he feels so comfortable to share. D. went to Portland and got two new tats and a piercing. I'm sure there is so much more that they aren't saying.

5th hour ate me alive. I realized this in the six minute passing period. Then, I changed everything. Of course, my new students want to know the facts first - who are you? how long will you be here? what's due? how do you grade? So I changed the order of everything. I talked about myself and where I am coming from. I told stories, I asked if they had any questions. Then we did the daily journal, and then we shared about our breaks. Everything was so much more calm, more fun. I like having two classes with the same material - how incredible we always want to hone and modify and make the things we create better. A better fire, a better wheel, a more efficient lesson.

The day ended. I went to Kaladi's and read and watched the night drip purple on the mountains until it was so dark you couldn't see them, so dark that if you told someone there were mountains, they would think you a liar.

I rode home in darkness, listening to my ipod and trying to remember that night we turned off the lights and just listened to music, just felt the warmth of our bodies close by. I started getting anxious again. Tomorrow. I need to plan for tomorrow - vocabulary lists, discussion questions, research. It will all happen. And I will sleep. And this weekend I will plan for the whole week, just like a regular teacher, so I can come home, from work, like a regular person and play with my dog, and write in my journal, and drink a glass of wine, and maybe even go for a walk.

These rhythms, these seasons, I feel like the whole world is new, like I have never experienced a winter, or a change. Teachers tell me I will soon "understand the rhythm". What surprised me most - my students were just as I left them. New haircuts, yes. But really, of what was I so scared? I actually found myself laughing with them during sixth hour. Laughing.