THE Pink Bow

You know the old saying, "If you don't bend you will break." Well, in education if you don't laugh you will cry. Humor is medicine that tastes like that purple cough syrup we took as children when we got sick. Ya know, the stuff that tasted like grape cool-ade. It always left you wanting more. Well, when a teacher can laugh and have a little fun it kinda works the same way. It leaves the kids wanting more. Sometimes it motivates them to do boring work (there words not mine). So, this story is about how humor helped a "boring" topic become interesting.

I have this student who, in my opinion, has the most gorgeous set of blonde curly locks that I have ever seen on a little girls head. The kind you wished your daughter had. But, and this a big but, this particular day she came to class with it flowing from her head like a freshly ironed shirt. All the curles were gone. Instead, they were replaced by a pretty pink bow clipped strategically on the top of her head. This was now her shining glory.

Math class started as usual...mental math. I called out problems and the students shouted out the answers. It would be nice if they would wait until I called on them, but their enthusiasm for math overwhelms them and they just can't contain themselves (That's what I choose to believe).With every problem, my pink bowed straight haired friend kept shouting out the correct answer."Hmm..." I thought. "She's really on top of her game." Then the lesson continued to the "boring" topic...equivalent fractions (Personally, I love fractions.). Again, Pinky was amazing! "It must be the bow." I concluded. Enter the humor.

Now, you know your class is extremely bored when you see their eyelids start to flitter because they are fighting the desire to doze off. I had to do something quick. The bow! That's it! Let me call out one more problem and get this party started. "Who can tell me an equivalent fraction for 3/4?". Pinky took the bait. "I can! I can!" She shouted (again, with the enthusiastic outbursts). "6/8!"."Wow! Good job! I've noticed that today you have been on top of your game." She smiled. "I wonder why?" I ask (Here we go.)."I like fractions." She responded proudly."Na." I say shaking my head with a smile. "It's the pink bow. I'm convinced." She didn't quite get it, so I elaborated. I shared with her my observations and adimittaly professed the pink bow to be the culprit. Something stirred to the left and then a giggle from the right. "OK they're waking up." I thought. Let's go for the kill. "Mrs.Brown, you're silly." She says. "I'm serious." I said earnestly. "It has to be the pink bow!" More laughs. "Let me prove it to you." I asked if I could borrow the bow for a minute. I know,I know. Lice and such, but I was desperate. She removed the "crown" and handed it to me. Needless to say, she was a little suspicious. I held this power of motivation in my hand and watched while the now alert spectators stared at me with anticipation. "OK." I said as I clip the bow to the top of my head. The laughter gets louder. "Ask me a question about equivalent fractions and make it hard." I can't remember what she asked, but I do know that I got it right. Everyone was now awake and laughing. Then came the point at which I knew equivalent fractions were going to be fun. A little blonde headed boy raised his hand and said, "Mrs. Brown can I try the bow?"

The pink bow is now considered a symbol of genius. In fact, just the other day, Pinky said to me, "Look,Mrs. Brown.I wore my brain today." She laughed and so did I.

A Letter from an Angel

As a teacher, you become very passionate about your lessons and the content being covered. When you stand in front of the class you want your students to have that same passion about learning. So, here's a story about a letter that reminded me to "cool my jets."

I introduce the next unit in Science, the environment. I reviewed what they learned last year on the same topic ( that's what good teachers do) and connected it to this years focus. Blah, blah, blah went the lesson until I got to the part where I am passionate...cells. I love the study of cells and how they work. It's amazing how inside such a microscopic structure is the beginning of life. See how passionate I am about cells. Now, how passionate do you think my students were learning it? From my perspective about 50/50. Remember, that is my perception. Keep that in mind.
As I am imparting this knowledge to my students and projecting the gorgeous internal structure of the plant and animal cell up on my Promethean board, my excitement is going to new heights. Life couldn't get any better, and then to the left of me I saw what appeared to be a dream squasher. A student resting her head on her arms with her eyes closed. My excitement turned to disappointment. "A student not interested in cells! Choosing to sleep in class instead!" I know, don't go there. Don't say anything. Maybe she's not feeling well, but I went there. I scolded her for sleeping in class. She was very respectful as I told her that sleeping is for home and that she needs to pay attention. Now, this is where the story gets good. I went and finished the lesson, with some satisfaction that most of the class now loves cells as much as I do. I dismissed them and welcomed in the next crew of unsuspecting minds. As I was getting things ready, I saw what appeared to be a letter, resting on top of a stack of papers by my computer. It said on the top fold, "To Mrs. Brown". Awww... someone has written me a letter saying how much they enjoyed today's lesson on cells and hailing me as the greatest teacher ever. WRONG! I unfolded the paper and began to read.

Dear Mrs. Brown,
I wasn't sleeping in class today. I'm sorry that you thought I was. I was paying attention to everything you were saying. I love your class. I don't want you to be mad at me. It's just I get sick when I see things like cells and body stuff. It makes me want to throw-up This is why I had my eyes closed. I promise I wasn't sleeping.

OK, I'm feeling like a complete jerk, but I have another class that I have to teach. So, I purpose in my heart to rectify the matter before the end of the day. Finally, the best part of the school day...lunch. At least that's what the boys tell me. I walk into the cafeteria and I see the angel who wrote me the letter sitting at an infamous round blue table. She is laughing and talking with her friends. I walk up to where she is sitting and whisper in her ear. "I'm sorry." She looked up at me and smiled. She forgave me. I walked away with tears in my eyes.

Out of the mouth of babes. Thank you my little angel.

Rewards

Rewards are amazing. They come in many forms. Some produce positive results and motivate you to go for the gusto, and others can yield very little return on the investment. well, today's blog is about rewards that produce positive outcomes.

As I sat with my class in the Learning Commons (the library), watching them take tests, work on the computers, look for books to read I thought this is what teaching is all about. Because everyone was busy learning, I was able to to do some 1:1 instruction with a particular child who was in need. No, she's not a struggling learner, in fact, she is quite the opposite. She has been working ahead in math and having to do it independently. So, I don't always have the time to meet with her like I need to, but today I did and here is the story.

We began by starting the next unit in math, which I was confident that she would master in a few days and then move onto the next one. She flew through the first two lessons in about 10 minutes. We did have to pause for a brief moment to go over some new vocabulary, but then we were off and running. We made it to the third lesson and that is where we spent the next 20 minutes. It was the most rewarding 20 minutes of the day. Not because she mastered the concept and proved me wrong on a couple of occasions (which I loved),but because we had a chance to talk and laugh while we, yes we, learned. It was nice, though, to be able to teach her something she didn't know. I'm sure she felt the same concerning me. LOL!

We began our discussion on angle measurements, which she was able to confidently rattle off concerning circles and quadrilaterals, but came to a screeching halt with triangles and other polygons. Of course, we had to debate the sum angle measurement of a regular hexagon. She was confident she was right with it being 360 degrees. I tried to tell her the error in her thinking, but she wouldn't accept my expertise and knowledge. So,we had to look it up on the
internet...then she believed me. This led into the discussion of the sum angle measurement of triangles and how to use that to calculate the sum angles of other polygons. We did a couple of practice problems together,where I got both of them wrong(computational errors) She was loving it. Of course,when we both got the same problem wrong,her response was,"You were more wrong than me. I was closer to right." For the next problem she told me to get out the teacher manual for help, not for her but for me. When I told her that she had the next problem right her response was,"What does the teacher's manual say?" We both laughed. The rest of the lesson was poking fun at each other,while solving problems in the workbook.

The reward wasn't the knowledge gained, the good grade, or the fact that she is ahead of everyone, but the relationship that was nurtured. It was encouraging and motivating. I just wish I had the time to do this with all of my students.

Today's reward wasn't a physical prize, it was something much deeper, a relationship.

I so love to teach.

A Deck of Cards

A simple deck of cards in the hands of a creative problem solver can be dangerous. Sitting at a round blue table in the preverbal school cafeteria, sat a group of precocious young boys who love food. Imagine that! Well, it was the food that was the driving force behind "The Deck of "Cards." From the corner of my eye, I see one of the boys holding a "hand", filtering through it like a pro. Hmm... I wonder why he has cards in his hand, but before I could finishing processing that thought,I was distracted with a question from another student, and then I had to run a quick errand to the classroom. When I settled back onto MY hard round cylindrical seat at MY blue round table...I was distracted again. By this time, I have totally forgotten about those cards until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see the school janitor and he was handing me a deck of cards. Oh, ya, those deck of cards. I suddenly remembered my original thought. He graciously sat on a round seat beside me and began to tell me a story. I listened patiently and with concern as he explained to me how the boys were dealing those cards to each other, with the winning pot being donated food from their lunch boxes and their cafeteria trays. He went onto explain how gambling was wrong. I comforted him by offering assurance that I would take care of it. Before returning back to his duties, he handed me the contraband. A pathetic, weathered, torn box of playing cards. I gazed in the direction of the guilty. Our eyes met. Defenses were ready. "OK, boys..." I said. But before I could start my lecture, they blurted out their excuses, their denials, and started finger pointing. "It wasn't me!" "The cards are his!" "We weren't gambling! It was just food!" They caved...too soon. The supplier of the contraband spoke up softly and confessed.b "Those are my cards." I guess he didn't want to see his friends suffer the consequence because of the influence he had
over them. Needless to say, i finished my mini lecture on gambling and offered up a stern
warning to head off any future ideas, and then turned and walked away...with a deck cards in
hand. They didn't see it, but I had smile on my face.

I so love to teach.