A Recap of Winning Beginnings

Our first Invitation to Write, on the topic "Winning Beginnings," has been a pleasure to share with you over the past couple of weeks. Talented educators and writers from across the state have contributed their reflections, ideas, and advice, providing for the rest of us inspiration and a reminder that we are not alone. I wanted to take a minute to recap where we've been and encourage you to read, reread, and share what these teachers have contributed. 

Beginnings: "One of my favorite parts of teaching is the idea that we get New Year's twice a year, whereas those suckers with "real" jobs only get them in January. The resolutions I make in August are similar to the traditional ones; they're designed to make me better. Except in January, most resolutions are self-centered, focusing only on me as a person. In August, my resolutions focus on how to be a better teacher for my students."

Day 1 Activity: "I never start my year with rules or procedures. . ."

An Epilogue to a Former Disaster: "I was very invested in my students’ lives and I took their struggles, both academic and otherwise, personally, and I forgot that teaching is much more than just throwing creative darts against a wall hoping for a bullseye.  Even if they are creative darts, you can only survive chaos for so long."

Do and Do Not; You Can Always Try Again Tomorrow: That list in your head? It’s in my head too. It never goes away. Teaching is a vocation with an inexhaustible spring of inspiration. Channeling that inspiration can be in turns exhausting, intimidating, and exhilarating. 

Why I Assign Seats: "As I run down the hall to homeroom, my skirt starts to slip, but I hold it in place with one hand as I step through the door. The bell rings. I look around for a friendly face. Mr. Sprott stretches to see over the podium, glances at his seating chart, and his nasally voice says, “You must be Brenna Griffin. You’ll sit there behind Lindsey Greenwood.” I quickly slide into my desk.

     "It is the first time that morning that I know who I am."

Cheesy But True: "It’s time to take a deep breath, to remember why I teach, to remember what motivates me, to call upon that impalpable yet interminable energy. The source of that intangible vivacity is not impalpable at all. It walks, it talks, and I can attach names to it." 

The Lure of the Distant: "I teach, I have a graduate degree, I volunteer, I have a family—in short, I feel that I am very accomplished. However, the aforementioned conversation still pushes me to wonder: What does one have to do to establish his or herself as “doing something”? More importantly, how can teachers make students feel that they're always doing something worthwhile with their own lives?"

To the First Year Teacher: "First year teachers, at least the ones similar to me, like to pretend as though they have everything together.  Admission that you don’t makes you feel like a failure.  The result is 'safe teaching'—lack of risks, over-planning, and far too much over-analysis of lesson plans."

Blending the Passion of Poetry with the Common Core: "Of course, no one became an English major in hopes of having to prove how the teaching of Frost or Soto or Dickinson meets with a set of educational standards.  However, as it turns out, so many standards can be effectively addressed with the likes of James Weldon Johnson or Jorie Graham." 

Thanks to all our writers once again. We're still looking for contributors on our current topic, Letters to Students. Let's keep the writing coming. We all have much to gain from each other.

- Shannon Dykstra

ICTE Online Content Editor

Blending the Passion of Poetry with the Common Core

Ever feel like you need a pardon for using Poe?  That it’s time to dismiss Dickinson? This summer I had the privilege of instructing my first class for the State of Iowa AEA: “Teaching Poetry and the Common Core.”  I originally created this class because I love poetry.  Furthermore, we all know that many language arts educators fear for the future of poetry instruction in relationship to the Common Core; the ELA standards certainly emphasize the importance of “informational texts.” Fortunately, the Iowa Common Core Standards for ELA also specifically mention and encourage poetry instruction, even offering examples of “text exemplars” (suggested poems for each grade level).  Don’t get rid of Roethke yet. As language arts instructors, we can and should still promote poetry.

After examining the Core Standards for Reading, we found that many of them would provide an obvious and interesting match for poetry.  Consider RL 11-12.1: “Cite strong and thorough textual evidence to support analysis of what the text says explicitly as well as inferences drawn from the text, including determining where the text leaves matters uncertain.”  This encourages teachers to ask the questions about poems that lead to meaningful discussions.  Along with a Core-friendly discussion of language and technique, we can easily move onto the emotional or cultural issues addressed in the poem, and encourage the students to engage on a personal level.  We do not have to compromise the quality and depth of our poetry discussions. As Petra Lange, language arts instructor from Roosevelt High School noted, “When analyzing the standards to determine which could be used in poetry and finding all of them could, it further solidified my understanding that the core can be used to defend best practices that are occurring in the classroom already.”

Of course, no one became an English major in hopes of having to prove how the teaching of Frost or Soto or Dickinson meets with a set of educational standards.  However, as it turns out, so many standards can be effectively addressed with the likes of James Weldon Johnson or Jorie Graham. There is so much to be learned about language and theme from poetry analysis.  One class participant, Christie Wicks, an English teacher from Valley Southwoods, wrote this about the value of poetry instruction: “If [it] does not speak to the power of knowing how to use excellent diction, the nuances of  phrasing, succinct writing, and precise tone of voice, I don’t know what does.”  In addition to this, reading poetry with students should always be a meaningful experience, mostly because we are sharing art.  Like you, I want to see this genre shared with future students, and encourage you to continue exploring the beauty of poetry:  keep inviting Byron and Angelou back to the classroom. 

Tracy Tensen has taught English in Iowa classrooms for over twenty-five years, currently teaching composition at Gilbert High School. Passionate about poetry, Tracy has memorized over twenty poems, and is all too eager to recite them.

To The First Year Teacher

At the beginning of every school year, I am always reminded of the first-year teacher version of myself.  With each passing year, she gets further and further away, but her eagerness is deeply implanted in my memory.  To say I was an anal-retentive, first-year teacher is a massive understatement.  Each day I hand wrote a lesson plan complete with approximate lengths of time each segment would take.  I laughed recently as I came across my plan book—the first day of school was broken down, literally, to the minute so as to be sure that there would be no wasted time.

When I look around the room at the faces of first-year teachers each year, I remember how I secretly cried on my way to school that first day out of sheer terror.  I remember how I would leave PLC meetings, take a deep breath at my desk, and proceed to Google search everything my English partners had discussed that I knew nothing about.  I remember feeling like there was no way I would ever keep all the plates spinning at the same time.

I’ve come to learn that plates break.

But, first year teachers, at least the ones similar to me, like to pretend as though they have everything together.  Admission that you don’t makes you feel like a failure.  The result is “safe teaching”—lack of risks, over-planning, and far too much over-analysis of lesson plans.

Here’s what I say to you, fellow anal-retentive, terror-ridden souls (please tell me I’m not the only one!): You bring something to the table.  Maybe it’s your vision for classroom management or your desire to take risks when it comes to instruction.  Maybe you have a knack for inspiring kids to read or have great ideas about how to better incorporate writing into the classroom routine.  Whatever it is, bring it to the table.  No one expects you to have all the answers or to do everything right.  No teacher has all the answers or does everything right (and if they say they do, I suggest you keep a healthy distance).

I’m four years on the other side of that panicky version of myself, and I see now that my best in the classroom is not the same as perfection.  Sometimes a lesson ends 15 minutes before the bell rings which lends itself to a great conversation about books—what I’m reading; what they’re reading.  When I don’t know what someone is talking about now, I ask.  Shocker: it saves a great deal of time.  When the spinning plates start to feel like too much, I hand some off, slow some down, and toss some away.

But periodically I’ll still time crunch a lesson for good measure.  Old habits die hard, you know?

-Molly Finkman
After four years as a ninth grade English teacher in Ankeny, I have made a shift into a literacy interventionist position which is both exciting and nerve-wracking all at once. For me, it’s all about learning, and I often feel as though I have learned as much, if not more, as the students at the end of a given year. In my spare time, I’m usually reading or writing--all healthy, predictable, and cliché pastimes for an English teacher.

September's Invitation to Write

The September Invitation to Write theme is “Letters to Students.” I find as I begin the year, I have much that I want to say to current students, past students, individual students, groups of students, and even my own children as students. I want them to know my goals for them, what I expect from them, and my mistakes, fears, and dreams. I want them to read about the pride I have at what they have become, or the potential I see, or all the life advice that I try to cram inside the cracks in the literary curriculum. This month, therefore, we invite you to write a letter. Write it to one student or a group of students, be they past, present, or future. Be funny, serious, or reflective. Write about what they need to know about themselves or about you.

Last year I made a personal goal of writing and mailing 25 physical letters, and I accomplished that goal. I received some back in the process. There is nothing quite like the anticipation of receiving an envelope in the mail that you know contains words important enough to write down, stuff, stamp, and send. I remember quietly going down to my office to read them, uninterrupted. They were my treasure chest to open, to examine, to reread. Through those letters I felt closer to the sender, like I understood them better, understood that they found me an important enough investment of their time. In that spirit, write to your students. And share with us, who will also feel valued in the process.

Please submit your letters to our Online Submission Form. They will be published in October. Again, we’re looking for a general range of approximately 300-600 words.

I also encourage you to submit other writings as well. We’re still looking for book reviews to share, narratives of your experiences, great teaching ideas, etc. Those of you engaging in the 30 day blogging challenge are encouraged to share the best of those with us on our site as well. Just write, share, and enjoy the professional community.

- Shannon Dykstra
ICTE Online Content Editor

The Lure of the Distant

It's hot. It's only Tuesday. It's early in the year, just far enough in for the novelty of missed friends to wear off and the weight of deadlines to become cumbersome. It's my first year of teaching, and I sit in the back of the yearbook lab, helping edit and design pages. As it does everyday, discussion centers around those in the yearbook and those who are now out of it.

“Whatever happened to Becca Anderson*?” Amy, a senior, asked. She blindly stared into the void space on the computer screen in front of her nose, not glancing up.

“Oh, she is some public relations person out West now. She works with celebrities planning events,” Danny responded, also not looking up from his screen. “Did you see the pictures she posted at Caesar's Palace with Ozzy Osbourne last week?”

“Yeah. She's a prime example of someone who’s actually done something with her life.” Alexis declared, her voice dripping with disdain aimed at everyone in the community who hadn't, in fact, moved out of town our small, rural town.

I sat there, pretending to be working, but feeling slighted. I was here. I was accomplished. Wasn't I doing something with my life, too?

***

A crux in education: developing an answer to the “what is success?” conundrum. It has been five years and this conversation still sneaks into my conscience. What does it mean to “do something” with one’s life? Is life something that one can tangibly take out of a box and throw around? Is it something you can lose, like the old saying “If my life wasn’t attached, I’d lose it”?

I teach, I have a graduate degree, I volunteer, I have a family—in short, I feel that I am very accomplished. However, the aforementioned conversation still pushes me to wonder: What does one have to do to establish his or herself as “doing something”? More importantly, how can teachers make students feel that they're always doing something worthwhile with their own lives?

“The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive,” John Burroughs said. “The great opportunity is where you are.” In that same vein, it is important for students to note that, no matter where life is located or what it involves, opportunity for success is everywhere they go.They will all move to different areas, both physically and mentally. Those that are in the Midwest may be in Australia later. Those who are atheist may become Christian later. And yes, those that are Democrats may—dare I say it—become Republicans later. All of these may be inverted; life is change. But in each of these places and perspectives, students have enormous opportunities for success.

It's now time for school to start yet again. Another new beginning. Students will come into class, sit down, and feel the hands of the clock tick their time away. This year, it will be different. This year, I will have a response to the conversation. My response will be in the simple questions about college and future plan discussions (Why do you need to move away to do that?) and the daily attitude I bring into the classroom (Of course today is a great day! I'm here! I'm with all of you!).

It's finally becoming clear that for students to feel successful, like they're “doing something,” we—their teachers, mentors, and coaches—also need to make our own successes clear. If teachers are positive and enthusiastic about their own successes, students may see that it doesn't matter where they live that makes them, it's how they choose to perceive their opportunities.

*All names have been changed.

Anna Westermeyer is now in her fifth year of teaching secondary English Language Arts. She received her B.A. in English Education ('09) and her M.A. in English ('13) from Western Illinois University. She teaches at Hamilton CCSD #328 in Hamilton, Illinois, and lives in Keokuk, Iowa. She welcomes email at westermeyeram@gmail.com.