Elisma+VanEeden

Word-Photo
 * Genre Reflection #1 **

My First Day

Her Collaborating Teacher shakes her hand, and the last of her nerves fade away. They’ll get along just fine. The kids are loud and friendly and full of energy and are-you-a-substitutes. “Hi. My name is Miss van Eeden, and I’ll be working with you for the next few weeks,” she says. Little hands shoot into the air as they wave, and she waves back. Smiles all around, and then back to grammar. She moves to sit at the teacher’s desk and looks over the class as they take turns on the board, correctly identifying simple predicates and prepositions. No doubt about it: She’s in the right place.

Diary Entry
 * Genre Reflection #2 **

Dear Diary,

Today was a big surprise in a way I never expected. I taught my first official lesson, and I got to do it twice. I was excited about the opportunity to teach, revise, and then teach the same lesson again. What caught me off guard, though, was that 1st period went smoothly and 3rd period was chaos!

How did that happen?!

I was über ready with a flawless lesson plan, a rockin’ PowerPoint presentation, and I’d anticipated and prepared for any student questions and/or problems. And yet I’d missed something. First period went as well as any first lesson can go, and I used my own realizations and my CT’s advice to get ready for the next round, but I still struggled. So, what was the problem? Third period had a **//__completely__//** different energy from 1st period!

I mean, I’d known not to expect the two classes to be exactly the same, but this threw me for a loop. Sure, 1st period had questions about the lesson and the assignment, but 3rd period couldn’t seem to grasp either one! I paired the students up because I didn’t have enough library books for each student, and I asked them to page through the books to get ideas for their Descriptive Essays. First had no trouble understanding that that’s all they had to do together. Just look through the books, but choose your own topic for your own essay. Third, however, could not understand that this was an individual assignment. Over and over, students asked me if they should choose a topic with their partner and how they were going to write the paper as a pair. And over and over, I had to explain the assignment top to bottom, with students constantly talking over me. My CT had to jump in several times to quiet them down. It was a disaster.

What are the chances? Or is this one of those expect the unexpected situations? Obviously, I didn’t think “unexpected” enough, today.

** Genre Reflection #3 ** A Letter to My Kids Dear Sixth Graders, I’ll never mail this letter, and you’ll never read it, but these words are in my heart, and I have to share them with someone. You validated the last three and a half years of my studies; you made me a teacher. We had good days, and we had bad days. Mostly we had fantastic days. I felt welcome, and after a couple of days at the front of the room, I felt comfortable. And I always had fun. Thank you for you excitement and your restlessness. Thank you for your interest and your endless questions. Thank you for putting your hands up and not waiting for me to call on you. Thank you for following some guidelines and ignoring others. Thank you for letting me be your teacher and treating like any other teacher. Thank you for calling me Ms. van Eeden most of the time and calling me Miss Lady only some of the time. Thank you for your letters and for letting me write to you in return. Teachers are never supposed to admit it out loud, but I have my favorites. KR, the quiet one, and my one and only 100 score on the Descriptive Essay. HH, my hardest little worker, always with your knees pulled up and asking the most impossible questions. HK, my expert on the narwhal, and trying, unsuccessfully, to hide your romance with BS. Ah, middle school love! BD, my Komodo dragon specialist, and a very active participant in the day-to-day discussions. NO, the reader, I still don’t know how you walk down the hall everyday without falling; your nose is always buried in books. I’ll always remember my first students. Love, Miss van Eeden