Before I ever became a teacher, I told people I wanted to teach kindergarten or first grade. All of my classroom volunteering as an undergrad was in these two grades. Then, in my final year of college, I had the opportunity to spend a few hours, three days a week for the entire school year, in a kindergarten classroom. It was my dream come true. I loved working with the littlest group of kids. I helped Hope understand that using the mouse was more difficult for her than her classmates because she was left handed (like me), and that if we put the mouse on the other side of the keyboard, she had less difficulty. I was there to be angry at and depressed for Sam's mom when she finally told the school (in December) that Sam might be having more than the average separation anxiety (sobbing for 20+ minutes every morning after drop off) because his Dad had been killed in a car accident two weeks before school started. I was learning how to be there emotionally for children who had been alive barely longer than I'd been in college, and still challenge their learning at an appropriate level.
In January, a student teacher was assigned to the classroom. And my dream position became a nightmare overnight. The class that I had come to love became totally unmanageable. Throwing a new teacher who really didn't know how to manage students yet at first year elementary school students - right after the holiday break - now seems like a massive error on the university's part. But at the time all I knew was that a veteran teacher had a solid handle on the kindys and the new teacher did not.
I had an instant change of heart. I decided it was not in my power to teach kids to learn how to "do school." When I got to pick my student teaching assignment, I chose a 5/6 multi-age placement. I spent my first four years as a certified teacher in third grade, followed by two years of subbing, and then eleven years in fifth grade. As I told the school secretary today, fifth grade is my jam. Yes, those words came out of my mouth in a professional setting to someone who might have the ear of my future principal. I blame my most recent partner teacher. I was also wearing glittery cowboy boots I bought with her when I said it. Teaching can in fact keep you young.
I suppose my point is, I totally enjoyed BOTH jobs. Those five year olds on Friday were incredibly sweet. I had endless patience to explain over and over that the BIG shapes needed to be circled in red crayon but in the next set, the LITTLE shapes needed to be circled in blue crayon. This was too much for many of them, especially since the worksheet had four additional sections. It was the kind of worksheet that makes teachers of older students wonder where the academics are, but teachers of five year olds wonder why it's really that important to gain mastery over these concepts at such a young age.
The school's annual fun run was on Friday. It was ridiculously exciting as we got to watch the KA aide race a mechanical pig with the other top fundraising classes. Sadly, "our" pig lost the race, but happily, she won the beauty contest. But the most exciting part of the day, at least from a five year old's perspective, was probably when the principal was turned into a "human sundae" by the top ten fundraising students in the school. I was a little worried during the actual run when I didn't know where many of the kids were, but the aide assured me that the missing kids were with their parents. She was correct - by the time the parents who had attended the fun run had all left with their children, only one kindy was left. I read her two books and then we played on the "little toy."
If Friday was fun, today, I was in my element: speaking Pokémon and Magic the Gathering on a passable level; blending sarcasm with understanding; teaching from textbooks I had used for eight years, and even tweaked tests from, to better suit my needs. There were two boys who saw a sub at the door this morning, and thought it was going to be a fun, no work kind of day. With all the experience I now have managing classrooms, and fifth graders in particular, it was easy to shut that down, fast. When a student said he couldn't find his notebook I asked him to be a problem solver, and a classmate offered up the very solution I would have suggested. When a different student lamented that she couldn't find the pencil she had been using before recess, I told her, in all seriousness, "I didn't eat it."
At the end of the day I had the table groups tell each other the worst part about having me sub and the best part. My favorite response (overheard as kids talked among themselves, as I did not ask them to share these responses with the whole group): "Mrs. Conrow is as hyper as me!"
I can't sub tomorrow, as my foster-adopt son has a mid-day appointment, so I just had to turn down a job in my former building. I'm disappointed, but not sad. Life is full and I can still rock this teaching thing - if only for a few days here and there.
