Happily beginning this year as the lower school art teacher. Full time. Dream come true. You can read all about it here. It means a new year, a new position and the never ending game of curriculum development.
I do love this part of teaching. Designing a path to guide students along, developing investigative questions, bookmarking resources, and imagining experiences is a huge part of what makes my work satisying. There is nothing easy or short about curriculum writing. It is bread made from scratch, fresh pasta rolling through the machine, pastels carefully flattened, lovingly stuffed and tenderly fried. Creating curriculum is a homemade Thanksgiving meal all the way to picking fresh cranberries from the backyard.
I have all the ingredients spread out on my desktop. Tabs are open to grade level documents, science and social studies year long overviews, national art standards, AREO art standards, my own visual art curriculum (a place for storing images and links to resources) and, finally, the Pre-K-5 yearlong art curriculum overview.
I switch back and forth between documents along with web resources such as art blogs, pintrest, educational journals and google images. I bookmark relevant artists, living and dead, local and international, well known and obscure. I'm looking to make art come alive by exposing students to ALL the possibilities in art. We're not all Rembrants and vanGoghs.
So what role does art have for us? This is just one of many questions that my students will spend the year exploring. What is the role of art in society? What is the responsibility of governments in safeguarding art and making it accesible to all? What role does art play in documenting and resolving conflict? How can art record history and uncover complexities in international and national relations? How does art contribute to unity and reconciliation?
More importantly, at this age, how does art play a role in my personal life? These are big questions and we only have 40 min. once a week to figure it all out. In addition, or concurrently, there is the teaching of technique- yes, art is a skill like reading or writing or mathematics and it can be learned and improved. It needs to be practised.
There is also exposure to historic works of art, artists and movements. On my physical desktop, I have lists of movements, illustrative works, and the must-haves in the art world. There are painters, sculptures, and illustrators. There is art history and contemporary art.
Aside from the planning of units and lessons, there is the learning of names. 214 + or -. When I might have had 2 Aishas, there are now 4. There are at least 7 Mariame, Mariama or Mariannes. And a whole host of names I can't even pronounce. I make phonetic notations but some 50 kids later, I've forgotten what my shorthand means. When the child (or the whole class) corrects me, I look at my notes and nod my head. Yup, that's exactly how I've written it and it still didn't make sense. I spend my class periods calling everyone by their name everytime I talk to them and sometimes I just walk around randomly telling them who they are. Because nothing is worse than seeing them on the playground shouting out, "Hi Ms. Soumah!" and I can't say their name back.
I spend my lunch duty walking around talking to kids about their meals, their names and any other random conversation starters in an attempt to remember. I know it will come, and it is by far easier to remember in the confines of the art room- it's just generalizing to the wider school context that presents a challenge.
I know from perusing art teacher blogs that many have it worse. They write of no sinks, no classrooms (I did do a stint of art on a cart way back when...)They have 1,000+ students (?!!) and 3 schools to shuffle between. The most incomprehensible-- 20 min. classes.
I don't even consider making art, personally, if I only have 20 minutes (maybe something to consider if I had a table and a studio space to just pop in and out of.) But art, and learning, is about getting into that zone- "the flow"- where time is lost and it's just you and the medium.
I wish I had time to help my students experience this at every art class. Time to look at art thoughtfully and learn the words to respond to elements that are striking and the time to discover what they like and don't like. We can't do it at every class, but I am realizing it is something I can build in consistently.
It is a journey. When we discussed "what is art?" during our first class session, I was delighted to see many kids were already reading the room. "Well, it says art is not a thing," they pointed to the quote on the wall. "Art is a way."
Showing posts with label schools. Show all posts
Showing posts with label schools. Show all posts
3.9.16
18.3.14
Our sweet school
A few years ago I had that year as a teacher, the one that makes you reconsider your professional choice and start to view taxi driver as a pleasurable alternative (if you've been reading for any length of time or if you actually know me, then you know that I do aspire to be a taxi driver someday....really.) It was that year when the students and I did more than just not click, we got on each others nerves in a most annoying and terrible way. We pushed every single button and never gave an inch. Every day I felt like a comedian bombing on stage. And every minute I expected the kids to grab some Apollo style brooms and sweep me from the front of the classroom amidst a chorus of boos and shouts. It was the year that makes you want to run for the hills and never come out again. Every single day. For 180 days. Sometimes even the weekends aren't enough to make you feel safe.
I didn't quit teaching, however, and continue to enjoy most parts of my job. This year began in a most promising way -I finally had the dream schedule with all of my favorite subjects. I am teaching art, literacy and social studies. I have a variety of classes and grade levels. I even have enough time in my day to prep for art. And my partner teacher was pretty easy to talk to, fun to exchange ideas with and get helpful feedback from.
Until it all changed. And so drastically that for several weeks just getting up to go to school was a Herculean effort. I couldn't fall asleep at night for replaying events of the day and hashing over conversations- you know the kind, when you insert all the logical things you wish you'd said in the moment and responded with clarity and wit rather than confusion and anger.
Its calmed down a bit - in that tense sort of left on my own kind of calm. I miss the collaborating, the collegiality and the sense of being useful and purposeful in my job. I'm not exactly clear why it all went wrong, though there have been lots of insights that have helped me to accept the situation (mostly) without animosity.
This week is Arts Week at our school and in keeping with tradition a group of teachers has teamed up to plan events for the week. In the elementary we have developed monthly learning celebrations (our version of the old "school assembly") and so I have found myself in the midst of planning, coordinating and preparing for a different kind of art experience for our students to discover every day this week. Its a lot fun. I like thinking with others, problem solving, and developing ideas to their most creative potential. Even trying for crazy at times. Just enough outside the box to make a regular old event really wacky.
It's given me time to realize what I really do love about our school. We've had the chance, as teachers, to create worthwhile, innovative and meaningful experiences for our students. Every month they get a chance to show off what they know and to apply the concepts they are learning in the classroom to celebrations and fun events. We have the math fair with booths and activities centered around math concepts created by students. There is the All School Read and Author's Assembly when kids have a chance to respond to books and write their own to share. We have Leap into Science when kids get to think like scientists and dig deeper into the many realms of science in the real world. There is Arts Week and International Week. There is plenty of dancing, singing, creating, building, thinking, puzzling and laughing. It just feels good to celebrate learning.
And so, despite the challenges of this year, I think I can still leave with sweet memories of the little community school we have created.
I didn't quit teaching, however, and continue to enjoy most parts of my job. This year began in a most promising way -I finally had the dream schedule with all of my favorite subjects. I am teaching art, literacy and social studies. I have a variety of classes and grade levels. I even have enough time in my day to prep for art. And my partner teacher was pretty easy to talk to, fun to exchange ideas with and get helpful feedback from.
Until it all changed. And so drastically that for several weeks just getting up to go to school was a Herculean effort. I couldn't fall asleep at night for replaying events of the day and hashing over conversations- you know the kind, when you insert all the logical things you wish you'd said in the moment and responded with clarity and wit rather than confusion and anger.
Its calmed down a bit - in that tense sort of left on my own kind of calm. I miss the collaborating, the collegiality and the sense of being useful and purposeful in my job. I'm not exactly clear why it all went wrong, though there have been lots of insights that have helped me to accept the situation (mostly) without animosity.
This week is Arts Week at our school and in keeping with tradition a group of teachers has teamed up to plan events for the week. In the elementary we have developed monthly learning celebrations (our version of the old "school assembly") and so I have found myself in the midst of planning, coordinating and preparing for a different kind of art experience for our students to discover every day this week. Its a lot fun. I like thinking with others, problem solving, and developing ideas to their most creative potential. Even trying for crazy at times. Just enough outside the box to make a regular old event really wacky.
It's given me time to realize what I really do love about our school. We've had the chance, as teachers, to create worthwhile, innovative and meaningful experiences for our students. Every month they get a chance to show off what they know and to apply the concepts they are learning in the classroom to celebrations and fun events. We have the math fair with booths and activities centered around math concepts created by students. There is the All School Read and Author's Assembly when kids have a chance to respond to books and write their own to share. We have Leap into Science when kids get to think like scientists and dig deeper into the many realms of science in the real world. There is Arts Week and International Week. There is plenty of dancing, singing, creating, building, thinking, puzzling and laughing. It just feels good to celebrate learning.
And so, despite the challenges of this year, I think I can still leave with sweet memories of the little community school we have created.
16.12.08
Kansas
as in Dorothy, we're not....
? ? 50, 30, ? As we near the middle of a marking period, I scan my grades to check on general progress. That is what I came across in the math section of my record book. It is a student I have been struggling to reach. He clearly has some intensive special education needs. I’ve seen some small progress in the area of writing but math remains a mystery. In a class of 25, I feel like I can never get to everyone the way I want, the way I need to.
I have made special effort here, instituting after school help twice a week and even offering a program for the December break. I’ve tried to line him up with a tutor but it gets tricky in that area. He really needs a qualified teacher, I believe, to make any kind of true progress and they are hard to come by.
I decided to approach the administration to find out exactly what it is I’m supposed to do with this child. Retention is hardly appropriate, nor do I believe it would adequately fill in the gaps that are missing. Many of our students have gaps.
I’m not sure what I was expecting or hoping for. I suppose that may have been my first error. Never go into a meeting without some idea of the desired outcome. I wasn’t thinking long range either. Error number 2. I left the meeting in a daze, feeling as if I’d been punched in the stomach. Error number 3. Always keep yourself composed. I felt like being physically ill, and I know my face showed every bit of it. I had to work to close my mouth as it hung open in shock. And I can’t get past the outright racism of the statement to determine if that’s what it actually was.
I’m told to write a letter requesting a meeting with family based on my concern about the student’s future at the school. Long before, when I knew nothing, I thought there might be some kind of entrance exam or application to get in. But there is not. And if there is no screening process to weed out potential difficulties, how do we then institute a process where we kick them out once a problem is identified? I’m told there is a screening process but I believe it has yet to be clearly identified. If there is no initial judgment, how can it be brought about mid-year? Oh, oh you mean that kind of learning difficulty? No, we don’t take those.
But I’m not really sure what that means, because he is not the only one in my class suffering from broad gaps or lack of adequate progress and achievement. He is not the only who will require support and modification of program in order to be successful. But I am told that he is an African child and as such, already of higher education and status than most of his compatriots. He can continue in any number of the available schools from the other private ones in the area to the “public” African schools.
Maybe I think of Guy, who is suffering so much to learn to read. And I recall how he was pushed through an African school, where no one seemed to recognize his difficulty or care, or have the means to deal with it. But we have the means. We are able to support and modify, we are able to present in multilayered ways. So why is he being shoved into a system where they cannot or will not be able to help him?
Or maybe I am just thinking about how shy and awkward this student was during his first few weeks of school. He is new to the country and it was not an easy transition. He had difficulty making friends and being accepted. But I see him now and I see the way he has branched out and blossomed. And I see the way all of that will contract again. He will become lost and ignored in the back of a class where he will daydream his days quietly away. And he will have me to thank for that.
? ? 50, 30, ? As we near the middle of a marking period, I scan my grades to check on general progress. That is what I came across in the math section of my record book. It is a student I have been struggling to reach. He clearly has some intensive special education needs. I’ve seen some small progress in the area of writing but math remains a mystery. In a class of 25, I feel like I can never get to everyone the way I want, the way I need to.
I have made special effort here, instituting after school help twice a week and even offering a program for the December break. I’ve tried to line him up with a tutor but it gets tricky in that area. He really needs a qualified teacher, I believe, to make any kind of true progress and they are hard to come by.
I decided to approach the administration to find out exactly what it is I’m supposed to do with this child. Retention is hardly appropriate, nor do I believe it would adequately fill in the gaps that are missing. Many of our students have gaps.
I’m not sure what I was expecting or hoping for. I suppose that may have been my first error. Never go into a meeting without some idea of the desired outcome. I wasn’t thinking long range either. Error number 2. I left the meeting in a daze, feeling as if I’d been punched in the stomach. Error number 3. Always keep yourself composed. I felt like being physically ill, and I know my face showed every bit of it. I had to work to close my mouth as it hung open in shock. And I can’t get past the outright racism of the statement to determine if that’s what it actually was.
I’m told to write a letter requesting a meeting with family based on my concern about the student’s future at the school. Long before, when I knew nothing, I thought there might be some kind of entrance exam or application to get in. But there is not. And if there is no screening process to weed out potential difficulties, how do we then institute a process where we kick them out once a problem is identified? I’m told there is a screening process but I believe it has yet to be clearly identified. If there is no initial judgment, how can it be brought about mid-year? Oh, oh you mean that kind of learning difficulty? No, we don’t take those.
But I’m not really sure what that means, because he is not the only one in my class suffering from broad gaps or lack of adequate progress and achievement. He is not the only who will require support and modification of program in order to be successful. But I am told that he is an African child and as such, already of higher education and status than most of his compatriots. He can continue in any number of the available schools from the other private ones in the area to the “public” African schools.
Maybe I think of Guy, who is suffering so much to learn to read. And I recall how he was pushed through an African school, where no one seemed to recognize his difficulty or care, or have the means to deal with it. But we have the means. We are able to support and modify, we are able to present in multilayered ways. So why is he being shoved into a system where they cannot or will not be able to help him?
Or maybe I am just thinking about how shy and awkward this student was during his first few weeks of school. He is new to the country and it was not an easy transition. He had difficulty making friends and being accepted. But I see him now and I see the way he has branched out and blossomed. And I see the way all of that will contract again. He will become lost and ignored in the back of a class where he will daydream his days quietly away. And he will have me to thank for that.
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