ramble of the week.

I've been feeling feisty lately. I think it is well-warranted and being appropriately expressed, but it has been an interesting thing to observe within myself in terms of my interaction with kids. Over the years, my level of coddling and tentativeness has definitely transformed into something more dynamic. I've enjoyed the challenge of learning how to dispel the genetic characteristic of overbearing that runs on my mother's side.

My years in AmeriCorps have definitely helped me develop an mentoring style that feels authentic, authoritative yet collaborative, firm yet gentle. I remain authentic and ever-curious about the inner emotions and outer behavior and I've learned how to pick and choose battles.

I've found that the longer I work with kids, the more I become comfortable communicating with them on a broader emotional spectrum.

So, when after months and months of being told to get their act together, the kids in Mrs. Shooks class are still acting like 3rd graders (I'm even inclined to go a grade younger...) I've found myself becoming far more mater-of-fact. Yesterday, I made some very blatant remarks to kids in the classroom and kept a flaunted a very unimpressed demeanor. I've taken into account what Mrs. Shook finds to be an acceptable level of detectable frustration and made my own act. Sugar coating is a grave detriment at this point. Students don't know what a sentence is. They can't write three paragraphs. They confuse the formulas for Area and Volume, they blurt "I don't get it" before they even get their math sheet for the day.

Our frustration is warranted.

And I will never understand how their mind functions. Because we spend half the class battling apathy and they still have the audacity to say they are putting forth their best feet. Still, it was a perk yesterday to be left managing their behavior for the last 5 minutes before lunch. I witnessed more respect from them than some of the substitute paras get and when they lined up, they all told me I should be a teacher. Connor came up to me and said "if I had kids and you were a teacher, I would move them to where you teach." They were sweet sentiments, but really, dealing with their behavior has not enticed me to pursue public school education.

Open Gym has been a vacation compared to the classroom. We've had some enjoyable crafty days the past couple of weeks, particularly in the rediscovery of Fuze-it beads. Remember those things, with all their mess and fuss as you'd pour heaps onto the table to find your color? I'd known of their existence for a while, hidden away in the back closet with too many other odds and ends going to waste from lack of use. Finally, I was ready to throw cleanliness precautions to the wind and break out the big bag of maybe 3-5 pounds of little plastic tubes. The kids had a blast and made the mess to prove it. I found myself having flashbacks as I ironed their delicate molds, remembering how I hawked over my counselor's quivering hand as they ironed my art, watching for a possible break. Now I was the one being diligently observed. Luckily, I managed not to be directly responsible for any complete demolitions, of which there were a few. After the first day of beading, I decided to refrain from sweeping; I think it will be a fairly regular activity for the next few weeks.

Yesterday, a group of girls with big personalities randomly asked me if they were good kids at open gym. I told them they were sassy a lot and after some initial denial, they admitted to knowing what I was talking about. I think it worked though, because at the end of the night, one of them helped me clean without so much as a scoff.

So sure, the behaviors and the chaos are still there at the gym. But at least there, I can take the reigns one-on-one. In the classroom, there comes a point where you just feel like a helpless ghost trying to bang pots to get people's attention.

Which brings me to the realization that I may like teaching in some capacity...the thought of designing my own curriculum is appealing...