I have a cold. It will more than likely turn into a sinus infection, which will then either morph into bronchitis or else end with laryngitis. This is a prediction based on past history, not the rantings of a hypochondriac lunatic, even thought that’s what it sounds like to me. Said cold is annoying, especially the fight with the accompanying stress incontinence (every sneeze is a challenge) and the internal struggle to ward off yet another monster cold sore. And I do mean monster. These things look as though they’re going to devour my face, and they take FOREVER to heal. Thank you, former husband, for sharing that particular little viral gem with me. UGH.
I didn’t share this little factoid in order to gain sympathy (although deliveries of homemade chicken soup are welcome). No, I shared it in order to let you in on a weird little secret, and to ask if I’m alone in this. You see, every time I get sick, I have these deranged delusions of grandeur about what fabulous workouts I WOULD be doing, if only I weren’t sick. If only… I would be walking three miles around the neighborhood before work. If only… I would be doing my belly dancing DVD (it’s quite challenging for me, by the way!). If only… I would be jumping rope and sparring. Really? Nah. But my mind thinks so. Why? Do I need to have my mental health checked out as well? Sniff. Now for my final “if only” thought for the day… If only I could go back to bed.
Oh Yes! I won! Impossible to imagine, since I don’t really play, but we can pretend. Two scenarios play out in my mind. Scenario one involves a very large home in a swanky neighborhood (not far from where I currently live), a house staff that includes a cook, a personal trainer (if not Chris Powell, then a clone of him), a housekeeper, and a groundskeeper (you know, for the pool, lawn, and gardens). My sweetheart and I would have done a bit of traveling, and would be settling in to our new life. I would have time every day to work out, read, write, quilt, and scrapbook. Of course the house would be huge and have dedicated areas for all of those activities, so I wouldn’t need to pull things out and put them away each time.
The studio would house my quilting and scrapbooking (and other craft) supplies. It would be sunny and cheerful, and in the evening it would be well lit. Of course it would be outfitted with ample storage for my ever growing collection of fabrics, papers, and notions. I would have tall counters for cutting and comfortable spaces to spread out and design and create. I would invest in a longarm quilting machine, and hire an expert tutor to help me get the hang of it. If I don’t get the hang of it, I would just have her come over and do my quilts for me.
My study would be the reading and writing center of the home. It would be a cozy room with walls of books, comfortable seating with good light, and a lovely desk with my computer. Here I would spend hours every day composing narratives, poems, and works of fiction. I would play with various styles of writing, and take online writing workshops. I would read here too, sampling works from writers new and old.
Another room I would visit daily would be the workout room. I imagine a treadmill, weights, boxing equipment, plenty of floor space, and other pieces of equipment that I can’t even name. My trainer would be compassionate and motivating, and I would learn to love working out. Naturally there would be a pool too, for my water workouts and general recreation and relaxation.
Finally there would be a tremendous kitchen, complete with fabulous healthy chef/nutritionist/teacher. This wonderperson would teach me the ways of creating delicious meals that will satisfy me and help me on my path to wellness. He/she would also do the meal planning, sous chef work, and cleaning up. Wouldn’t that be nice?
It all sounds fabulous, but totally unrealistic. First of all, I really don’t want a bunch of strangers in my house. Ok, Chris Powell can come over once a week for my training session, but other than that, I value my privacy. If I really did win the lottery, things would look a lot like they already do. First, I would finish out the school year with my students. There would be no reason to abandon them. Next, I might move to a slightly larger, more comfortable home, but it would be far from a mansion. There are three of us in our family. That would be silly.
Things I would do:
1. Put aside college money for my son.
2. Hire him a driving instructor. He’s almost old enough for his permit (just a few weeks away).
3. Hire a trainer. Even if it’s not Chris.
4. Keep writing.
5. Plan a memorable vacation.
6. Think about life after school lets out in May. Would I go back? I might not. I might concentrate on writing.
The lottery is unlikely, but having dreams doesn’t depend on lottery winnings.
What makes a teacher great? Being a teacher, I have some pretty strong opinions on the topic. I think back to my own school days, as everyone does, and pick out those teachers who stand out. Why were they the best?
In elementary school, it was my sixth grade teacher who made the greatest impact on me. He was funny, knowledgeable, and compassionate. Learning in his classroom was fun, but the standards were high. He made it clear that we would be well prepared for Junior High by the time he was done with us, and we were. He also had a more playful side, and on blustery days when there was no outdoor recess, he played endless hands of blackjack with his eleven year old charges.
Later on, I had Dr. T. He also had high standards. Really high. He, too, knew his field inside and out. He pushed us to think beyond our own teenage existence and orchestrated opportunities for us to connect with Hester Prynne, Lady Macbeth, and the Joads. He took us to the university library and taught us how to find reference materials (pre-computer era) and write research papers. He was a stickler for details, and he taught me to be a critical reader and ruthless editor. Sometimes I wished he wasn’t so demanding, but when I arrived at college, it all became clear. He saved me. As a result of his demands, I could write.
As an educator myself, I have some thoughts of what makes a teacher great. First, are their students engaged with the topic? This sounds easy, but when you have to teach a particular curriculum, which you may or may not be excited about yourself, it can sometimes be a challenge. Not every student is going to be thrilled to learn the quadratic equation, just as not every student will find joy in poetry. Your job as an educator is to sell it, and it can be a tough sell. Knowledge of technology can help a lot, as can having an open mind when it comes to learning new teaching techniques and trends.
A second hallmark of great teachers is that they entertain. Kids are media savvy, and many have short attention spans. When I was a kid, a filmstrip was a thrill. Those days are gone, which is why I believe that great teachers are also entertainers. Infusing lessons with great stories, a little drama, the occasional joke, and a spirit of fun can go a long way toward student learning. If I’m being entertained, I don’t mind going along for the ride, even if I didn’t sign up to be there in the first place. Think back to Schoolhouse Rock. My generation could sing the preamble to the Constitution, explain the function of a conjunction, and tell you the types of adverbs all because a little learning was squeezed into our Saturday morning cartoon lineup. Genius.
Finally, great teachers know their stuff and know their students. I have to understand my content inside and out, and I have to develop multiple ways of sharing it with my students. I’m always assessing what they understand and what they still need. I’m watching them, reading their work, listening to their conversations, and thinking about the next step. I gather resources, put them together into learning experiences, and evaluate how effective they were. I reassess and determine where to go from there. You really can’t get that out of a teacher’s guide.
Great teachers are a little different than the rest of the world. They may not have the prettiest classrooms, and other teachers may not always understand exactly what they’re doing, but their students love to learn, and ultimately that is what it’s all about.
I have a cold. It will more than likely turn into a sinus infection, which will then either morph into bronchitis or else end with laryngitis. This is a prediction based on past history, not the rantings of a hypochondriac lunatic, even thought that’s what it sounds like to me. Said cold is annoying, especially the fight with the accompanying stress incontinence (every sneeze is a challenge) and the internal struggle to ward off yet another monster cold sore. And I do mean monster. These things look as though they’re going to devour my face, and they take FOREVER to heal. Thank you, former husband, for sharing that particular little viral gem with me. UGH.
BulgingButtons 