Monday, June 29, 2020

 

My student teaching and my first few years of teaching were in fifth grade.  There was always something to learn, it was a more work than I could have imagined but I loved it.  Then, the numbers changed, my school didn't require four fifth grades any longer  but a new third grade teacher was needed.  I did not transition well.  When planning, my expectations were always too high or too low. My third graders  seemed so needy.  Did I structure too much?  Not enough?  How to get them where they needed to go?  The other third grade teachers were exemplary, but what worked for them didn't seem to work for me.  I felt like I was failing this group of kids and it broke my heart.  I was miserable. This was the backdrop.
    At the end of third grade, students started  three paragraph essays.  We read  Going Lobstering by Jerry Pallotta.  I grew up on the ocean and despite teaching in eastern Massachusetts I had students who had never seen the ocean.  We dove in.  I brought in traps and lobsters.  They designed their own buoy patterns. They learned about lobster diet, lobster claws, life jackets, working on a boat.  
    The three paragraph essays were guided, I was learning, but they were original, my students were excited and proud.  The staff had been warned, the Superintendent would be visiting and sure enough, the principal and Superintendent strolled into my third grade room.  The Superintendent wanted to know about lobstering, the colors on the buoys.  My students knew this was someone to impress and  boy they couldn't wait to show what they they had learned.  Students read their essays, explained how and why; they even pointed out their indents and paragraph structure.  Three distinct paragraphs were a big deal for a third grader.  They worked hard and they were showing off.  
    I have the ideal that  motivation should not come from a shiny gold star.  This day was not my best day teaching because my class impressed  the  principal and Superintendent.  The principal and Superintendent provided a stage and I could watch my class articulate what they learned, how they grew.  In a year of constant struggle to find my footing, I had proof learning took place. We would all get to where we needed to be, baby steps.  


Rayanne W

No comments:

Post a Comment