The Innocence

March is National Reading Month.  Our school does a great job coming up with themed activities; we have contests between grade levels with the amount of books read and we also do a scavenger hunt competition.  Additionally, on Tuesdays, everyone (including teachers!) wears a t-shirt with words and jeans. The words on the t-shirt are supposed to promote reading.  Seriously, my favorite day.  Any day somebody's TELLING me to wear jeans and a t-shirt is a good day.  And, to top it off, you can look spirited.

Now as you know, I teach Kindergardners.  As you may NOT know, they're not avid readers yet.  Many of them still sound it out by stretching the letter sounds.  For example: the word CAT would be read cuh-a-tuh.  CAT! The word DOG would be read duh-o-guh.  DOG!  The word ELEPHANT would be read, e-luh-e-puh-ha-a-un-tuh.  Eluhepuhha....um I forgot.

Typical t-shirt designs:
Words are ALWAYS on the boobs

I wore a Hope College Dance Marathon t-shirt this past Tuesday.  It said: Dance Marathon.  Giving Hope to Kids.  Now, some of these words are tough, and they require "sounding out."  Sidenote: when we (teachers/administrators) come up with days like this, we don't really think of the things that could happen.  And here's what I mean.  We don't take into account that when a child doesn't know a word, he sounds it out.  How does he do that?  Of course, by touching each letter and making the corresponding sound.  Yes, I said touching.  That's how they do it with their books.  And when they mess up, they start back over at the beginning of the word (remember how many tough words were on my shirt?). They don't see a difference between books and t-shirts. Can you guess where the words on my t-shirt were written?  Where most words are.  RIGHT across my boobs.  How many times did I get felt up by a Kindergardner that day?  I'd probably say close to 87.

Signed,
Miss V.

Sweater Weather

I am still a full time student taking 16 credits.  We, however, have spring break this week so my only responsibility is the Kindergartners.  I'm also staying at my parent's house because it's much closer to my school than my college is. 

There are definite perks of being at home.  A nice, comfy bed.  A home cooked meal here and there (rather than turkey that's been in the fridge too long).  A bathtub.  BUT there is one obvious drawback.  Ninety eight percent of my belongings are still at school.  My wardrobe at home is quite limited (I don't like to pack).  Before I got dressed for school today, I noticed that the things I brought home were things you don't wear in cold weather.  They were things I wore last week, so I figured I'd be okay.  Nope.  Thanks, Michigan.  Gotta love the weather changes.  I did, however, bring one sweater home.  A nice, bulky one.  I put it on, along with some pants from my mom's closet.  I looked in the mirror.  A shudder.  I looked huge.  Welp, not much I could do about it.  I finished getting ready and headed to school.

I walked into the cafeteria and heard the usual responses.  My class instantly saw me and psychoticly waved me over to their tables (they haven't caught on that that's ALWAYS where I go, even when they're not waving me over).  Every single one of them felt like they had to give me updates on their lives (their pets, their sisters, their aunts, their cousins, their loose teeth, their new shirt, their cut fingernails, their new dance moves). 

"My cat got runned over."

"Oh, Sergei, I'm sorry to hear that."  (And this is what I ORIGINALLY thought I would base my blog on for the day).  However, just seconds later, it got much better.

Sam calls me over.  "Miss V, you look BIGGER every time I see you!"

Oh my word.  I don't know whether to laugh or cry about this.  I think he was trying to be nice (he probably feels good when Great Uncle Freddy tells him he looks bigger every time he sees him), but he didn't have the same effect on me.  I mean, I knew it was a bulky sweater, but geez.  I asked him what he meant by that.  He couldn't answer.  I got home and immediately put my sweater in the Goodwill Donations pile. 

Signed,
Miss V.

SAINT PATRICK'S DAY

It's been awhile since I've been in an elementary school on Saint Patrick's Day.  Yes, I forgot to wear green.  So you can imagine my surprise when, as soon as I walked in the door, a random third grader walked up and pinched me with no reservations.  And that was one of about 86 throughout the day.

In addition to consuming leprechaun juice and leprechaun treats (green Kool-aid and green Rice Krispy treats), we had a Saint Patty's Day activity planned.  We had letter cut-outs spelling SAINT PATRICK'S DAY on the board.  I had the students rearrange the letters found in those words in order to come up with as many new words as possible.  They found "a", "is" and "it" right away.  As quality as those words are, I challenged them to come up with some longer words.  We've been talking about rhyming a lot lately.

"What letters could we put at the beginning of "it" to make another word?"

This gave us "sit", "kit" and "pit".  They were quite proud of themselves.

A very bright student named Ricky then surprised me.  Kindergartners surprising me: pretty standard. 

"Saint Patrick's Day.  Can we make the word 'tricks'?"

Nice work, Ricky. 

"Yes we can!"

Well, then we were on the whole rhyming stint.  Carly offered sick.  Becca offered ticks.  Jake offered picks.  Kelly offered kicks (which has an extra k, yes).  Then, you probably guessed it.

"DICKS!" yelled Jordan.

Oh, Lord.  Chances are, these kids don't know what a dick is.  If I refuse to put it on the board, they'll know it's "naughty".  Then at recess, that's the only word I'm going to hear.  They'll probably make a chant out of it or something.  

So, I bit the bullet.  I crossed my fingers, praying that no one would pass the classroom within the next five minutes.  I wrote "dicks" on the board.  Yes, I wrote it small and it was the first word I erased.

P.S. There IS a store called Dick's Sporting Goods.  This is me rationalizing.

Signed,
Miss V.

...It was only Just A Dream....Thanks, Nelly

Do you ever wonder what television shows kids are watching nowadays?  I mean, I'm not sure I can compile a list of "appropriate" tv shows anymore.  My parents wouldn't let me watch Rugrats, for crying out loud! (Angelica was super mean).  Well, being with kids all the time, I'm always curious as to what they watch in their spare time.  I received a little insight on that today....

Sally came over to talk to me as I was passing out animal crackers to the rest of the class (whatever happened to snack time past Kindergarten, anyway?).  She obviously had a pressing matter on her hands. 

"Miss V."

"Yes, Sally?"

"How old are you?"

"How old do you think I am?"  Seriously, my favorite question to ask.  The responses are hysterical.

"21."  WOW! Now this was impressive.  I didn't hear a "twelve" or a "ninety eight" or a "sixty five" or a "three hundred."  This girl has some number sense.

"You're right! Good guess."

"Are you in college?"

"Yes."

"I knew you were in college. I saw you on the news."

Hmmm.  Did I get some air time that I didn't know about?

"Really?"  I knew it probably wasn't true, but I couldn't help the tinge of excitement I felt.  "What was I doing?"

"Nothing really.  We just saw a picture of your bathroom."

That's when I realized that I wasn't really on the news.  But I still sometimes like to mess with kids (ahem, I mean, encourage their creativity).  "What did it look like?"

She went on to describe the colors, the seahorse shower curtain and the toilet paper left in the toilet.  "It wasn't very clean, Miss V."

Oooooh, my bad.  "I'll make sure to clean it up when I get home, Sally."

Apparently, that's all she needed to hear.  She went back to her seat and held her hands out for an animal cracker.

Moral of the story: while some kids are out there watching MTV (which I can attest to after seeing a few girls practice their belly-dancing routines) or Spongebob (that sponge is seriously hilarious), there are others that are watching the news.  Or maybe dreaming it. 

Signed,

Miss V.







What I couldn't watch



What they shouldn't watch



But Miss V, I HAD to cheat.

So, today was Wacky Hair Day.  I didn't think my hair was THAT crazy, but I was proven wrong after walking through the school doors.  "Miss V, you look craaaazy!"  Thanks, guys.

On Fridays we usually go to a 4th grade classroom where my students have "reading buddies."  We walk over to the classroom only to realize that our 4th graders were unavailable.  Well, it's Friday I suppose. I can probably get away with playing "Heads up, Seven up." 

This game is very easy to cheat at.  So, I thought I'd be proactive (with five year olds, you have to be). 

"Now, we're going to try and be very sneaky.  Remember...you don't want to tell your classmates whose thumb you pressed.  And you probably don't want to pick your best friends, otherwise they'll know you picked them.  So, who wants to get picked?"

Obviously everybody raises their hand.  "Now remember, if you're peeking, you're not going to get picked.  Put your heads on your arms, close your eyes and put your thumbs up."

The kids scurry around as quietly as possible (which is usually high school basketball game noise level). I see a boy, Randy, peeking.  I make eye contact with him.  He looks scared.  I say, "Heads up, Seven up" and before I go on...Randy interrupts.

"Miss V.  You know why I had to peek?  I didn't have a good way to put my eyes down."

Ooooooooook, Randy.  I went on to show him how exactly he could go about putting his eyes down successfully.

Signed,
Miss V.

Confusion Between Heads and Butts

Approximately 1:30 pm, same day:
During rest time, I pull students one by one to have them come read to me.  This is just a way to measure their progress and to improve on their fluency.  I call Craig to the table so he could read his level 2 book to me.  Most of the kids are on level 6, but Craig struggles a bit.

He reads the first 6 pages with ease (although it was obvious he had memorized it).  I try not to count that against them.  You never want to tell a child that they're not really reading. Kind of a dagger to the heart there.

On the last page, there is a "speech balloon."  A hippopotamus is saying something really important like, "This water is nice."  You know how meaningful words in these books are at this age. Or maybe you don't.  They're not meaningful at all.

He reads this with ease too.  But my question throws him off.  "Craig, why is there a bubble coming out of the hippo's head?"  And as I look back, I realize the question could have been clearer.

He pauses, obviously thinking, then answers, "....is he farting?"

Um, no Craig.

Signed,
Miss V.

"A Doctor Screws in Your Head"

Approximately 12:13 pm:
I walk into the lunchroom where my students are eating ever so peacefully (NOT). I am welcomed by a chorus of "Miss V, Miss V, MISS V!" in the sing-song voices of the precious children.  A kid spills chocolate milk on my pants.  Awesome. 

"Can you open my fruit snacks?"

"Can you tie my shoe?"

"I need to go to the BATHROOM!"

"I like your shirt."

"I like your hair."

"I like your shirt AND your hair."

I try to acknowledge each child as quickly as possible.  They'd keep you for hours if they could.  One boy, we'll call him Davy, raises his hand ever so calmly.  You don't see that everyday.  What a nice change.  I walk over to him, excited for a mature conversation.

"Miss V.  When you have brain surgery, a doctor SCREWS IN YOUR HEAD.  They use four screws."

Yeah, never expect a mature conversation with a Kindergartner.

Signed,
Miss V.

Introduction

So, last semester I did my student teaching in an 8th grade classroom.  Hormones raged, lip gloss was overused and armpits smelled.  To have a passion to teach middle school....now that's crazy.

This semester, a school in West Michigan called me up to let me know that there was an opening in their district.  I took it (blindly).  I didn't know the specific district, school or grade.  About two hours before my job started, an administrator let me know what school I was to drive to.  I motored up to the office, excited for my classroom assignment.  That is, until the principal vocalized the dreaded word......"KINDERGARTEN."  She seemed to smile at my obvious pain.  Yes, middle school teachers are crazy, but Kindergarten teachers are even crazier.

Kids say the darndest things.  Remember that show?  Yeah, well it's true.  And I am here to share with you just how darn nutty they can be.  Real names will be changed to protect my students' privacy.

Signed,
Miss V.