Going Up?

   I teach at a relatively small school.  We have one main building and one elevator that requires a key.  You only get a key when you need the elevator because of medical reasons.

   Unfortunately, I need the elevator.  

   And this school year, the elevator hasn’t been fully functioning.  For several weeks, the elevator ran without lights.  I resorted to carrying a flashlight with me while riding the elevator each day.  Then, the lights were repaired, the elevator worked, and all was good.  

   It didn’t last.

   For a month, the elevator didn’t work at all.  I was told the problem was something electrical in nature, and the first repair-person called out wasn’t able to fix the problem.  A new work order was placed.  When we’re dealing with Los Angeles Unified School District, any school employee will tell you that repairs don’t happen in a timely, efficient manner.  Finally, I received word that the elevator was working again.  And for one afternoon, it did.

   The following morning, I got to work, stepped inside the elevator and didn’t step out again until the fire department got me out.  Being trapped in an elevator has always been one of my fears.  Initially, I panicked, yelling, hoping someone would hear me.  Most of my co-workers weren’t at work yet, and I wondered how long I would be trapped until someone found me.  For the first time in my life, I attempted to send a text message.  (I am a person who has always shunned texting, but with a weak signal, I couldn’t make or receive phone calls.  Of course, my inexperience didn’t help; I couldn’t figure out how to put spaces between words, so my co-worker/good friend and husband each received messages that read: “stuckinelevator.”)  Luckily, the emergency call box worked which allowed me to get in touch with someone who did contact my school’s office.

   I felt infinitely better once people knew I was in there.  Then there was just the small detail of getting me out.  As more teachers arrived, word of my predicament spread.  Teachers would greet me as they walked by the hallway, and for the most part, continue on with their morning business.  Minutes passed and those doors remained closed.  Thankfully, a good friend of mine had the common sense to call the fire department and ask for assistance.

   The elevator hadn’t moved since I’d been trapped inside.  The doors had simply closed and locked me in.  For forty-five to fifty minutes.

   By the time I got out, my hands were shaky and I felt sick to my stomach.  I desperately hadn’t wanted to vomit in the elevator and feared I would.  

   Ten minutes after I was rescued, I began to teach.

   Fifty minutes of quiet solitude, something I usually desperately crave, and I couldn’t even enjoy it.  I sat on my jacket, leaned my head against the wall, and hoped that I would be helped sooner, rather than later.

   Most of the time all I could think of was each moment.  Will the power go out?  Will I get sick?  What if I have to use the restroom?  What if I get an asthma attack?  The “What if’s” weren’t helping so I had to stop that train of thought.

   My emotions fluctuated - fear and panic (What’s going to happen to me?  How long can I safely stay in here?), then anger and frustration (I have so many other things I should be doing right now).  Later that night, safely home, I thought of the scene in a favorite movie, You’ve Got Mail, when Tom Hanks’s character is trapped in an elevator with three other people.  They began sharing life-altering “If I ever get out of here...” statements.  His life changed that night.  

   I keep thinking I wasted the opportunity.  Was being trapped in the elevator supposed to be a sign for something?  Was I supposed to have left the experience with a newfound sense of knowledge or wisdom about my life, or life in general?  

   I didn’t.  Instead, I’m back to walking, slowly, up the stairs each day because although the elevator has supposedly been repaired, I don't want to be the guinea pig to to test it.  

   And, I’m contemplating getting a newer cell phone.

The A to Z List of Lessons My Students Have Taught Me

       In twelve years of teaching, I hope I’ve taught my students what they need to know in our year together. But, as my students will attest, I am far from perfect.  Much to their amusement, I don’t know how to spell all words, still can’t whistle, and once in a while can’t find something I had in my hands only moments before.

In twelve years of teaching, I have been privy to a multitude of lessons that my students have taught me, both implicitly and explicitly.  Here, I share with you the A to Z list of lessons my students have taught me.

A Academics.  They are not the only reason a child comes to school, nor are they the only way I measure a student’s growth and learning.  On every report card, there are two sections - one for Academics and one for Learning Skills/Work Habits.  My students need to learn certain academic skills and concepts, but they also need to know life skills such as “taking responsibility,” “cooperating with others,” “respecting authority.”  A child who demonstrates a better attitude, increased effort, or more appropriate social interactions has made progress and learned.  

B Bathroom visits.  I teach my students that it is their responsibility to visit the restroom before school, recess, lunch, and after-school.  Sometimes, though, exceptions must be made.  Sometimes, you cannot control when your bladder or your bowels must be emptied.  You just have to take care of it.

C Customize instruction.  Now, when there are thirty students and one of me, it is virtually impossible to make each lesson exciting and/or interesting for all students.  But I do my best.  I have found it advantageous to learn about my students - their likes, their hobbies, their interests - and then use this information in my teaching.  For instance, I may invent hypothetical math word problems that reference the popular movie many of my students have seen or score at the recent Laker game.

D Demonstrate your emotions.  Something changes between infancy and adulthood.  As babies, my students weren’t shy about letting their adults know how they felt.  Children cry, loudly, when hungry.  They squeal with delight and pleasure at a stuffed animal or a funny face.  As adults, we’ve been trained to keep our emotions in, not always expressing our frustrations or hurt or excitement.  Maybe we could learn a thing or two from the little ones in our life - laugh loudly when happy, cry loudly when sad, make your feelings known.  Our feelings need to be validated.

E Eat.  Eating can’t only happen at designated breakfast, lunch, or dinner times.  We all need snacks.  In our classroom, I’ve dubbed it “brain food” - snacks to give us a little extra boost to help us focus during a test.    

F Flexibility is important.  Schedules and routines are vital, but a room full of children has taught me that a certain amount of flexibility is just as vital.  World news sometimes dictate our classroom lessons.  For example, the day the space shuttle Endeavor flew through the skies of Los Angeles, we had a conversation about the United States Space Program.  My students are people, with lives and concerns and worries, and sometimes we need to put away the history book to talk about the earthquake in Haiti and reinforce how to stay safe if an earthquake should occur during the school day. 

G Games.  Games should be fun, should be recreational and entertaining; however, they are also a great learning tool.  Through the years, my students and I have used Mad-Libs, played bingo (vocabulary, multiplication, states/capitals), done charades, and used an inflatable beach ball to play multiplication volleyball - all in an effort to convey different skills or concepts in a slightly unconventional way. 

H Hugs have no age limit.  I have taught kindergarten, fourth-grade, and fifth-grade.  And it has been my experience that all children benefit from a hug.  Hugs to calm us when upset, soothe us when hurt, welcome us back from a vacation, wish us well when leaving.  And hugs are just as effective, just as necessary for adults - for the very same reasons.

I Ice cream.  It’s a tasty incentive, a way to encourage perfect attendance.  Ice cream is a special reward - a build-your-own-sundae-party after a week of state testing.  Ice cream is messy and delicious, and brings a smile to a child’s face (mine too!)

J Jack-o-lantern.  Many of my students eagerly anticipate Halloween.  They speak enthusiastically about their costumes, our class festivities, the trick-or-treating they plan for later that night.  But for some of my students, Halloween is not a day to be celebrated.  Their families don’t observe Halloween, and they are not permitted to participate in our school festivities.  My job, then, requires me to plan “fall-themed activities” so that my students can interpret them the way they wish - making pumpkins or jack-o-lanterns.  And, I do my best to create a safe classroom environment so all my students feel comfortable even though they all have different beliefs.

K Ka-ching.  In my twelve year teaching career, I have found that the majority of my students have a very different concept about money than I did when I was in elementary school.  Many of my students get weekly allowances in the double-digits.  Many have cell phones, and many have stamps in their passports to places I can’t afford to travel to.

L Looks can be deceiving.  For the most part, young children are sweet and innocent-looking.  And some are, but not all.  In twelve years of teaching, I have had children lie, steal, and cheat in my classroom.  

M Multiple perspectives.  My students have taught me that there are usually two sides (at least) to each story.  What looks like talking from my perspective may be two students exchanging information about how to solve a math question.  Likewise, young friends are often guilty of misunderstandings, which escalates into questions of friendships and loyalty.  It’s always best to gather all the information to find out what really happened. 

N No homework.  Two magic words.  The answer my students get on the first day of school (their parents get the homework, filling out the requisite forms).  It’s the sought-after reward a table earns for filling up their marble jar.   

O Outside.  Children enjoy being outside, and honestly, many of my students aren’t given the opportunity to pursue outside activities in the neighborhoods in which they live.  I try to provide my students with opportunities to learn, and play, outside.  We have had a picnic in the school garden to celebrate Arbor Day, gone for a shadow walk and shape hunt around campus, and conducted a social studies lesson on the front lawn as if we were college students.

P Praise what you can do.  Acknowledge your strength, whatever it may be.  Not all students will be master mathematicians, read 200 words a minute, or always be able to thoroughly explain a story’s plot.  Yet, all my students have strengths that should be acknowledged.  Strengths may be remembering to write a name on each assignment, or volunteer to read aloud each day.  One student may grasp the concept of fractions with ease, another may draw skillfully, another may always pick up the errant piece of litter, and another never hesitates to share, whether it be a pencil or a snack.

Q Quickly - that is how children grow.  My very first class I ever taught is on the verge of graduating high school.  Children I once taught how to paint turkeys in kindergarten are now writing five-paragraph essays with me in my fourth-grade class.  Childhood is fleeting, so it’s important to savor all the moments while we can.

R Rest.  The longer I teach, the more our school days are designed to “go, go, go.”  We’ve got lessons to get through, tests to prepare for, skills to master.  Problem is, we can’t just keep going.  Kids need to rest.  (Their teachers do too).  And, sometimes, after a rest (whether it’s a longer story time, a shorter math lesson, an extended play period outside), the kids are recharged, rejuvenated, and ready to return to the tasks at hand.

S Sing.  In kindergarten, the first part of our morning was spent singing - a “good morning song,” a “days of the week” song, a “months of the year” song.  The older my students get, the less we sing.  However, I have found that most children love to sing.  We sing about the three main types of rocks, a song about Cesar Chavez, and the national anthem each day.  

T Truth.  They say “honesty is the best policy,” but I disagree to an extent.  When a child’s feelings are at stake, a “bending of the truth” or an “omission of the truth” is called for.  No one really wants to hear “No” to the question, “Do you like my new (fill in the blank)?”  

U Understand.  My students need me to never forget that first and foremost they are young people with problems.  Many of them have life challenges I have never known.  Parents in jail.  Homelessness.  Parents they have never met.  Difficulties associated with learning a new culture and a new language.  Potentially dangerous food allergies.  Life-threatening illnesses.

V Versatility.  As an elementary school teacher, I’m responsible for teaching it all.  But beyond the curriculum, it helps if I know a bit about sports, popular movies, popular songs - basically, what my kids are interested in (at the moment).  Then, of course, there are the questions - random, off-the-subject questions that curious children will wonder about.  I do my best to be knowledgable, but when I don’t know the answer, I admit it, and send a student to the computer to look it up and share the answer with us all.  And let’s not forget the other skills I must possess - things like fixing a stuck zipper, a knotted shoelace, and a broken necklace.

W Whistle.  Hum.  Or tap (your foot or your pencil).  Silence isn’t always golden.  During my credential program, I learned that students learn differently; some are auditory learners, some are visual learners, others are kinesthetic learners.  It is my experience, that students also work differently, and some need to make these sounds, the same way some adults sing in the shower or sing while cleaning the house.

X Xylophones are fun to play.  As are drum sticks (even without the drums), tambourines, shakers, and bells.  Instruments (regardless of their complexity) are almost irresistible to children who will not wait for further directions before picking up their instrument and making some noise, or music (based on your interpretation).

Y Yarn.  And paint, glitter, colored pencils, markers, and stencils.  Stickers, tissue paper, buttons, and cotton balls.  My fifth-grade students are just as excited when the art supplies come out as were my kindergarten students.  Never-underestimate the power of an arts and crafts project.  Children tend to be calmed by these hands-on projects, are more willing to offer assistance to each other, and a sense of tranquility permeates the classroom. 

Z Zoo.  Or the Natural History Museum.  The San Fernando Mission, Dockweiler Beach, or the Hollywood Bowl.  Field trips are generally a high-point for every student.  

Our Corner of the World

   One of the best things about my son’s preschool is the people.  He’s got three (yes, three!) great teachers who have been working together for quite some time.  They’ve developed a short-hand between them, and they all work to meet the needs of each student.  And, there’s the student population.  This past session, my son was never in a class with more than ten students.

   And let me be up-front and honest, I’m not color-blind.  I think I’m even more mindful of skin color because my son is mixed.  I am white, and his father is African-American.  I want my son to feel comfortable in his own skin, never singled out for being different or because his parents look different.  We’ve already heard comments - “He’s so light,”  “I thought he’d be darker.”  As long as my child is healthy and happy, his skin color is not a big concern to me.

   And thankfully, at his preschool, it’s not a concern there either.  He’s sitting in a little secure microcosm of the world.  One of his classmates recently returned from a family trip to India.  Another, left for the winter holidays early for their trip back home to Australia.  And still another missed the winter performance because of his family trip to Mexico.  One classmate is also mixed - with an Asian daddy and a white mommy.  

   I am grateful that my son is growing up thinking it’s all perfectly normal.  He sees, and doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, that people dress differently and use words that sound different.  His babysitter is Indonesian.  Our neighbors around the corner are Orthodox Jews.  Our neighbors two doors down are Korean.  

   And it’s all okay.  That’s the way the world is, that’s the way our world should be.  My son has never once commented on the differences; he only seems to notice the similarities.

Publication News

One of my essays has just been published at divinecaroline.com.

Here's the link:

http://www.divinecaroline.com/22106/134664-mrs-kennar-s-kinara

Living With Passion

“Dance as though no one is watching you, love as though you have never been hurt before, sing as though no one can hear you, live as though heaven is on earth.” - Souza

   Of course, I pray that my son remains safe and healthy.  But I also pray that he continues to live his life with happiness and passion.  His spirit is contagious; I’ve witnessed it first-hand.

   Let me give you an example:

   I spent the first day of my winter break on a date with my number one guy, my son.  We went to the Autry National Center of the American West.  We arrived before the museum opened, so we spent the extra time wandering the Farmer’s Market there.  We marveled at the rainbow of fruits and vegetables; I was astounded that Ryan could identify so many, especially since he refuses to eat some, like cauliflower or tomatoes.  We then sat down while Ryan snacked on Cheerios.  He noticed, and commented on, the things he saw - the man who didn’t push in his chair when he left the table, the man who wore a bike helmet even though he was no longer riding his bike, the baby walking slowly with his parents.  And we listened to musicians singing and playing the guitar.

   The day was crisp, the sky was blue, and I was truly enjoying my son’s company.  I delighted in the pleasure Ryan took from his surroundings.  

   And then my smile grew.  For when it was time to go into the museum, Ryan didn’t walk.  He danced to the music he heard; the music he seemed to feel.  He was oblivious to those around us, and danced his way towards the entrance.  He stopped when the music stopped and applauded the musicians.  And we were both genuinely surprised when two individuals clapped for him, telling us the applause was for “the dancer.”

   Ryan dances because he wants to, because he feels the music.  It is a source of happiness and joy for him, and I hope, for all those around him.

Publication News!

One of my A to Z essays has been included in The Barefoot Review's Winter 2012 Issue.

Here's the link:

http://www.barefootreview.org/winter2012.html


You can scroll down on the left to find my name, click on it, and that will take you to my essay.  Thanks for reading!

Praying for Peace

      My fifth-grade students and I had recently discussed the vocabulary word “massacre.”  We used it during a social studies lesson when discussing the treatment of Native Americans at the hands of the American government.  We made distinctions between different deaths.  Some deaths are the result of a natural disaster - a tsunami in Japan or an earthquake in Haiti.  Some deaths are the result of terrorist acts - September 11 and the Twin Towers.  

   And now here’s the word “massacre” again.  But this time it’s being used to describe a horrific nightmare that unfolded in a Connecticut school.

   I can’t find the right words and can’t imagine the terror.  I can’t read of the children without crying.  I can’t look at my son without silently praying for him to remain safe.  Ignorance is bliss; so they say.  For the day these events unfolded, my son was happy at home.  That fateful Friday, my fifth-grade students and I were decorating sugar cookies, distributing them to the hard-working members of our school community.  I was trying to make our holiday celebration a time for thinking of, and doing for, others.  In our safe haven of Room 7, my students were blissfully ignorant.

   And eleven years ago, on a fateful September day, I helped my kindergarten students paint their hands while across the country towers crumbled. 

   Seems to me, it’s getting harder and harder to keep my kids (my son and my students) blissfully unaware.  They are losing their safe places, because their world is being invaded by dastardly deeds.

   And I all can do is keep teaching my kids (again, my son and my students) other vocabulary words like “respect,” “tolerance,” “appreciation,” “compassion” and “peace.”