Meanest Teacher Ever

My job is great.

I love it a lot.

But, sometimes...

Ugh.

Sometimes you really feel like the meanest teacher ever.

Like today, for example.

First of all, this week has already been nutso. We were out Monday and Tuesday, it's a full moon, and Halloween is on Saturday.

This feeling has been building for a few weeks now and today it kind of came to a head. My class was working in centers after an extensive review or rules and directions the day before. So, things were going great until it was time to clean up and switch. There were several groups that didn't clean up and as I walked around to monitor the process I noticed that many of them hadn't even done their center work. 

Now, centers is not a time for play in my classroom. I spent a great deal of time yesterday discussing expectations and I was really hoping that today would be better. 

I. 

Was. 

Wrong. 

(This is where the mean part comes in.) 

So, instead of finishing up our centers we all sat back down and went over our expectations AGAIN. This time we wrote them all on posters that I mentioned we would go over every single day until we got it right. 

You're probably thinking I'm a psychopath for getting this pissed off about centers, but we've been doing rotations since about the second week of school and there was really no reason for the types of behavior I was seeing to be happening. You might also think that I put too much pressure on my second graders. 

Well, here's the deal: 

I don't. I don't put a lot of pressure on them, but I do have high expectations for them. This is something I mention to these students every single day. Every day in my classroom I let them know that my expectations are high because I know they can do it. 

Were my second graders upset that we had to sit and talk about expectations and center rules instead of being set free to do things? Absolutely. 

Did I still have at least 80% of my class participating in writing those expectations? You know it. 

My kids know my expectations are high. They know that even though we had a four-day weekend that our rules did not change. They know that just because it's almost Halloween they still have to act like small, respectable humans. 

Am I mean because my expectations are high? Sometimes. 

Will I lower them? I won't. 

There are so many things I want my kids to know, but independent learning is high on the list. I try to start that early in the year and stress the importance of taking their learning into their own hands. You might think that sounds crazy but I truly believe that my second graders can do that. 

So, I felt mean at the end of the day. (Especially after THE EXACT SAME THING HAPPENED DURING MATH CENTERS, OMG.) 

My expectations will remain high and I will continue to remind them every darn day. And if that makes me mean...well, okay. ;) 

They're Just Kids

I love my job. It's a good job and, like I've said a bajillion times before, it's a hard job. I know there are jobs more difficult and I know there are jobs more rewarding. I know that know matter what you do, you always have a chance to make and impact in someone else's life. I get all of that and I never want to degrade what anyone else does, this is just how I feel about my job.

Kids are important. Kids are the future. As teachers we literally see the future every single day. Let me tell you, folks, it's scary. Okay, that might be going a little overboard, but it's hard to be serious when, in a classroom of second graders, someone farts and it takes ten minutes to get everyone back under control. (This happens more than once a week, okay.)

Bodily functions aside, there are so many other things I sometimes forget about kids. Sometimes I think we are so focused on what we need them to do and what our expectations are, that I think we forget they're just kids.

But really, it's not the fact that they're just kids that bothering me these days. I know that kids are loud and impulsive. I know they need to express their feelings in weird ways and can't always control their emotions. Kids are my business, even though I don't have any of my own. In my eight (short) years of teaching I've seen a lot. I've seen kids of all different, shapes, sizes, and colors. I've had students from broken homes, perfect homes, and no homes at all. There's kids with mental and emotional problems that I can't even begin to comprehend.

That's what is killing me right now. The fact that these kids are dealing with things that we don't even know about. I've been really frustrated with my students this week (okay, this year) and I think that this is my main problem. I focus so much on what's happening in my classroom: how they are behaving, what they are doing or not doing, how they are interacting with others. When my focus is on all of those things, I lose sight of what's really important: the kid.

The need to reprimand a behavior is a common reaction, but it isn't always the reaction they kid needs. It's really, really hard to take a step back from the situation and just think about it. Which is kind of funny to write, because I just attended a training that said "IT'S OKAY TO TAKE SOME TIME TO THINK". (Which probably means that I need to pay more attention.)

It's easy to jump to a punishment, write a note, or make a phone call. The hard part is working it out with the kid. Asking the hard questions and figuring out what in the world is going on with them, instead of just punishing them for something they may not have any control over.

Seeking first to understand is hard. When I talk about the Seven Habits of Happy Kids with my students that one is the most difficult to explain, because sometimes I struggle with it. By sometimes I mean EVERY SINGLE DAY.

I love my jobs. I love these kids. I might complain about them a lot, but it's because I want more from them and for them. I want them to succeed no matter what their circumstances Even though I know that some of their circumstances are not the greatest, I know they can overcome them. They are the future and, yes, sometimes the future is a little shaky and often times it farts in the middle of class, but that's okay. (Everybody farts, y'all.)

So, this week...okay, next week I'm going to remember that they're just kids. I going to think before I react and ask the hard questions. And, if all goes to crap, I'll just get up the next day and do it all over again.

XOXO,
Ash

Don't Honk at Me

Ugh, I'm annoyed.

I started the first week of September training for a half marathon and so far it's been going okay. I say okay because, ugh, running. I love running, but it's the worst, okay? I also have been working, like, fourteen hour days so it's hard to get my training in sometimes.

Anyways, that's not the point.

The point is that while I'm running, or rather, since I started running, I've had to deal with some things and at this point I'm kind of over it.

I hate when people honk at me while I'm running. There, I've said it. The truth is out. I think it's rude, disrespectful, and to be honest it makes me feel unsafe. I don't live in a super great part of town so any extra attention already freaks me out. Also, I'm fluffy and barely five-feet-tall. I can't take care of myself, and it isn't like I run quickly.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but this has been bothering me for a few weeks. I know that I have had people tell me they saw me or said "hey, I honked at you" and yeah, okay. Maybe it's a little bit of motivation for me and that's cool for you. But for me to be a woman, alone on a busy street, and hear honking, it's a little scary.

Perhaps the strangers that honk also think they are helping me be motivated, or maybe they just feel sorry for the poor, slow girl who looks like she wants to die or is going spastic with some random dance move. (It happens.) It just doesn't really feel that way.

Honestly...it feels like I'm being objectified and it scares me. Last week someone actually cat-called at me while they were driving at 40+ MPH. I mean, really? Really? Is that supposed to be sexy? Am I supposed to be flattered? Because all they got was a very non-Methodist gesture and a dirty look. It isn't sexy, and it isn't flattering. It's rude and disrespectful. I'm a woman and an athlete (lolz) and I feel that we, as women and athletes, should be respected as that. On a run with my sister tonight we were yelled at once and honked at three times in a thirty minute period. We were not amused.

Seriously. This is what I look like after a run. I'm not cute, okay?

You're probably thinking I'm going all feminist on you, and that's okay. Point is, I should be able to do what I want with my body, when I want to, and be able to feel safe doing it. If that means I can run down the street in sensible clothes that show minimal skin without feeling like I'm being ogled, then so be it.

Is that too much to ask?

#respecttherunner

Oh, and don't even get me started on people who don't look before driving through crosswalks!

Happy honking.

If you're a friend who has honked I'm sorry and I love you.

The Struggle is Real

Right about now is the part of summer vacation that I really start feeling sorry for myself. With just under two weeks left before I "officially" go back to work it's time to shape up. Unfortunately I mean that in the physical and emotional sense. See, you've probably seen my Facebook posts or read here about the Summer Weight Gain that goes along with lounging around and reading books all day, yeah? Most of the time I make a joke out of that, because it's a little bit funny. But, then again, it really isn't.

If I've calculated correctly, since the end of the school year (oh, let's just say April), I've gained about seven pounds. Right now I can practically hear some of you rolling your eyes. Sure, seven pounds might not seem like a lot, but sometimes it feels like it.

That pooch over your bathing suit bottom?

A little bit of muffin top over your jeans?

Your favorite shorts just a little too tight?

Sigh. 

Sometimes I make myself believe that those are the things summer is for! It's a time to do nothing and let yourself go because you don't have anyone to impress for a few weeks. I also know that this is complete bullshit because, let me be honest here, I like to impress myself.

I am a vain, vain creature and I've said before, I'm my own worst enemy. 

I struggle. 

Every. 

Single. 

Day. 

So many people want to be perfect, but the thing is that everyone's definition of perfect is different. What's perfect for me probably isn't perfect for the next person, or the person after that, or you. It probably doesn't help that a lot of magazines and movies push the whole "skinny tall chick" as the protocol for perfect, either. I mean, who in their right mind would photoshop out Scarlett Johansson's curves out of a poster? Someone who likes stick figures, that's who. But then again, ScarJo might not be someone's idea of perfect. And also, maybe being perfect is overrated? With me, I get stuck on a goal, and that goal is my perfect. I see it. I want it. I do it. Right now this goal happens to be a number. 

I WANT THAT NUMBER SO BAD. 

That number is my goal, which makes it my obsession. See, right about now is where my big, ugly OCD rears it's point counting head. I don't really mind that much though, it gives me peace (and something to do). So that's what I've been doing. I've gone back to my old Weight Watchers (BECAUSE IT WORKS) ways for the time being. The only thing is...Weight Watchers works sloooooow. I know this. I know this because I started WW in October 2011 and met my goal in February 2012. In those five months I lost 18.6 pounds. Needless to say, I was pretty proud of myself. I've managed to maintain that weight for almost two years, which is why gaining so much in such a short amount of time has taken a toll on me. I don't always stick to a WW diet. I like fried foods and junk food just as much as the next normal person, but I really tend to be a healthy eater...for the most part. 

I think that's why this is bothering me so much. At thirty-one I'm the healthiest I've probably even been. It's crazy, right? I graduated high school weighing not a whole lot and basically lived on a diet of fast food. Here I am now: running a few miles a week, taking trips to the gym, and ABSOLUTELY NOT EATING FAST FOOD EVER (does Starbucks count?) and I'm struggling. Like, what happens to your metabolism once you hit twenty-five? It's the worst! 

Word.

I know (hope?) that everyone struggles with body issues, no matter how thin or un-thin you are. I also know, thanks to Weight Watchers, that it's okay to struggle and it's okay to not be happy with yourself as long as you want to do something about it. Being you is what makes you so awesome, so if you want a more awesome you then go for it. My friend Michelle (don't be mad) always has the best advice when I'm down on myself. She says things like "Be kind to yourself" and "Focus on how you feel, not a number". I love her for that, and sometimes I wish it were that easy.

Of course, sometimes it is easy, but often times it's not. And, most of the time, it's nice to know you aren't the only one struggling. Being perfect by someone else's standards is hard. Being perfect by your own? Feels impossible to me. Right now I'm taking it one healthy day at a time. 

Just...hide the cookies, okay? 

Three pounds to go.