Writer's Block be damned, Speed Write edition.

So the whole point of this blog is to write, right? And yet. Things like vacation and sleeping in and drinking coffee and watching Dr. Phil keep hindering this task. So let's try a little thing I often use with my students: Speed Write! It's pretty simple: you set a time limit (I usually start with 30 or even 10 seconds and go up from there) and you keep writing until the time is up. Sometimes I use parts of a song or a piece of music to monitor the time. But today we're going the old school route: non-stop writing for 30 seconds.

Here I go!

Ok, why what should I write? Why I am so worried about what I write? What a boring blog. Blahahahaha. Ms. Neurotic pants fo shore. This is harder to do while typing instead of with a pen. And I still think I'm overthinking it. I wonder if my kids have the same problem? I wonder if any of them just write their name over and over? Jamie jamie jamie jamie. Nah, that's lame. Am I done yet? I forgot to check the time. Opps.

Do Now: Write!

This is a common "Do Now" I use in my class. (For you non teachers, a Do Now is something - you guessed it - that the students are supposed to do as soon as they come into your class, to get things a'rolling. Of course it doesn't always work out this way, but believe it or not, my kids usually dig the reliableness of this routine. My most successful ones are short and somehow connected to the kids' lives/interests. This one should take about 1-2 min. Try it out!) :)

Do Now: Complete the following thoughts.

I am....

I love...

I hate....

I fear....

I want....

I need....

****

I am caffeinated.

I love Josh.

I hate litter, childhood obesity, and apathatic education systems.

I fear failure.

I want a scone from Amy's bakery.

I need a shower.

Thank You, Teacher Man

I know mine will be one of the thousands (millions?) of tributes paid to the dear Mr. McCourt, but the thankful teacher in me just couldn't resist.

I came to Teacher Man a little wary of Frank McCourt. I was, it seems, the only person in the world that didn't love Angela's Ashes. But I'd heard that it was a "must read" for a new teach like myself and so I did as I was told. And. I. LOVED. it.

What did I love the most?

That it was so damn honest.

And funny.

And more than a little bit ugly.

I loved that, as a teacher for 40+ years in the New York City school system, Frank McCourt was still humbled and awed by the task of teaching and changing young people.

(And I REALLY loved that it/he gave me perhaps my greatest teaching inspiration to date: as part of his "advanced" English course at Stuyvesant, he and his students taught each other recipes. Chicken Cattioatore as literature. Brilliant.)

Also, one final note: As I was listening to a rebroadcast of a interview he did on the Brian Lehrer show a few years back, I was struck by how he insisted on being introduced. Brian Lehrer was naturally introducing him as the author of two best selling novels/phenomenons, and Frank McCourt stopped him and said, "And a teacher. That's what I've been first and the most. A teacher."

Hungry for Change

Yesterday I saw Food, Inc. http://www.foodincmovie.com/

I went in thinking that it would be redundant information since I'd read Fast Food Nation and selections from Michael Pollan before. (I even do Mark Bittman's "vegan" thing before 6 pm most days.) But I was still 100% blown away/horrified/enraged/called to action. It's outrageous that the food industry is allowed to run ramshod over our food choices. These food fascists have no problem selling us corn in every way imaginable and WANTING us to become fat and addicted so we buy more and more. ENOUGH.

As I was watching, of course, I just kept thinking of my kids and the absolute garbage they eat. Pop tarts. Gallons of Arizona ice tea. 5 bags of potato chips for breakfast. To them, cheap, fattening food is literally the only option. Paying more than .30 for a bag of Wise potato chips is simply out of the question.

So I decided to teach Health last year to take this travesty on. I taught them how to read food labels and the "five ingredient" rule. I taught them that most of the sugar in their diet comes from soda. I taught them that there were other ways to cook chicken besides frying it. And yet: I still had too many students who ate chips for breakfast. I also ran up against (good intentioned) colleagues buying them pizza, Dunkin Donuts, candy, etc. as a reward. It's as if it's impossible to be an educator in the New York City school system and NOT (implicity or explicitly) endorse the consumption of bad food. When are we going to get it?! FOOD IS FUEL. The cliche is true: We ARE what we eat. And our students, who have failed and failed and failed, and truly believe that they're academically wortheless, are eating GARBAGE.

This was the one quote in the movie that made me tear up: Every person deserves access to good, healthy, affordable food....Make sure your farmers' markets take food stamps. Just as a quality education is the right of EVERY child, so is access to affordable, healthy food. As educators to low income, "inner city" students, it's our job, no responsiblity, to promote and teach them that they DESERVE organic, healthy food. We need to demand that school lunches become healthful instead of harmful. We need to tell them over and over and over again that food is power and that voting for apples instead of hot fries will start a revolution.

NYT, Failing Schools, and Monday Morning Coffee

So it's Monday. And. I'm. a. mov.ing.slow.l.y.

As I perform my Monday ritual of combing through the Times to see what news I missed over the weekend, one item has grabbed my extremly dulled attention.

I apparently missed last week's OpEd on Arne Duncan and what to do about Failing Schools.

(http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/06/opinion/06mon1.html)

I am catching now, however, the Letters to the Editor in response to the wise Ol Times:

To the Editor:

Your editorial urges that more money be spent and that small-scale demonstrations be greatly enlarged. There seems to be an assumption that middle- and high school educators know how to educate underprepared students, if only they had more money. In the case of city schools’ educating concentrations of students from poor families, this is wrong.

Policy should instead be built on two undisputed foundations: only students who can read well can be educated well, and reading is a skill learned early, by third or fourth grade.

For poor children this means high-quality preschools that can help narrow the gap in vocabulary and general knowledge. It also means concentrating on early literacy instruction.

These practices have been found to work, not just in successful elementary schools, but districtwide in New Jersey, in Union City and West New York, where eighth-grade students have practically closed the gap with their suburban peers.

Congress should require that federal funds be focused on starting early and intensively with disadvantaged students, not on high schools. Make young students strong readers, and they have a fighting chance.

Gordon MacInnes
Morristown, N.J., July 6, 2009

The writer is a fellow at the Century Foundation.

(Here are more letters to the editor regading this OpEd: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/13/opinion/l13educ.html)

As my slow-moving brain transitions from the effects of coffee to green tea, I'll have to say is: AMEN.

Stuff I Like: Teaching for Joy

Teaching is hard. Teach(ers), I believe, often make it harder. How? By choosing a profession out of apathy. By blaming the kids for their inability to teach. By being really crappy students themselves.

I believe teaching, at its core, is about the love of learning. For the students AND for the teacher. If you don't love the rollar coaster ride of learning and trying out new stuff (content, pedagogy, whathaveyou), then why the hell are you teaching? As a professional, my skills need to be constantly stretched and reflected upon. I crave things that will help me become a better teacher. For God's sake, when the graduation rate for city students hovers around 50%, we NEED to WANT to do something different.

So, once again, thank you Linda Christensen. I just ordered her new book: Teaching for Joy and Justice: Reimagining the Language Arts Classroom.

http://www.rethinkingschools.org/publication/tfjj/tfjj.shtml

Her book, Reading, Writing, and Rising Up pretty much provided the first full week of lessons for my first month teaching (see my previous post, "I am From").

So teaching for joy? Hell yes. Let's do some learning.

I Am From

I Am From (As taught millions of times in "progressive" English classrooms across the country. Thank you Linda Christensen, thank you.)

I am from Scott and Joanne, Scottie B and Toots

the Appalachian mountains and the Phillies and Iggles.

I am from

"let's pertend," playing house in Mr. Bond's yard, Spinny and Marshall, writing my first teacher notes home in Do and Pa's terrace.

I am from Bo-Pat, my pet-dog/toy coca-cola truck.

I am from stepping on Zack's legos and having my "buttons pushed"

I am from avoiding stickhead to having him become one of my best friends.

I am from FOOD.

Watermelon jolly ranchers

Dairy Queen Butterfinger Blizzards (size large please)

Those special nights when Mom got out the Fry Baby

And of course Do's mashed potatoes.

I am from summers at Chincoteague and Thanksgivings in New Jersey.

I am from normal to chubby to thin.

I am from craving and rejecting labels.

I am from Take Me Home Country Roads and Strawberry Fields Forever.

Playing the piano while Mom cooked dinner and "Sing my song, Noona."

I am from "don't roll your eyes at me" and "I'm proud of you sweetie."

I am from high expectations and even higher lessons of empathy.

I am from a workaholic and a nurturer.

I am from that very lucky place where love and ambition meet:

I am from home.

Why Blog?

Holy cannoli, I just created my first blog! I'm so 2004.

So why do this? Here's the thing: I'm a teacher. In New York City. More specifically, in Brooklyn. I love my job and I also love that this is my first summer off. (Yes, I know I'm lucky to have summers off, blah, blah. No, I'm not bitter about these comments, not at all....) And I want to get back into writing. So the blog. I've resisted it for awhile, but screw it, I can join these kiddies on the blogosphere. Especially since what I have to say is going to be the most original thoughts on teaching in the city out there. Fo shizzle.