Just found this well-expressed quotation in a NYTimes article. It's from a middle school teacher in an inner city school, and it sums up my current feelings about my job quite nicely:
“Middle school is like Scotch. At first you try to get it down. Then you get used to it. Then it’s all you order.”
Suffice it to say, at the beginning of this year, I could barely stomach my job. I might have had one beer at a party (apparently too much for me) and confessed to my assistant principal that I would drive into work each morning contemplating how bad of a car accident I would need to get into to be injured enough that I could not go into school for several days, but not so badly hurt that I wouldn't be able to enjoy the rest. (She made me take a day off the next week.) Then, around November, I entered into the phase where I felt like I could handle it. There were fewer teary car rides home in the evening, fewer panic attacks Sunday night, but also very little real enjoyment of what I was doing, and I was contemplating switching careers next year.
On Friday, I realized that I could not stop thinking about how much I love my job. I was chaperoning a field trip and the kids asked me why I wanted to teach middle school, "'cause Ms. Stuntz, I'm not gonna lie, we've got ATTITUDES." I thought about it, and I didn't say all this to them, but I realized that while I never would have predicted this, I cannot picture a better job for me right now than teaching middle school. I get to teach the funniest people on the planet, hands down. Some days they are just like little adults; other days, they are temper-tantrum-throwing 5-year-olds. In other words, my life is never boring. I get to teach them a subject I love and watch them think it's cool, too. We're doing Romeo and Juliet at the moment, which is WAY more scandalous than I remembered, and while I have had to get over my fear of standing up in front of a group of 13 year olds and explaining sex jokes, they love it. I am still exhausted and way overworked (although, probably no more than the rest of you), but I am hoping that will change some next year when I already have materials made and can just tweak things. I don't want to glamorize things at all; my job is not nearly as cool or inspirational as they make it look in "Freedom Writers," and it is incredibly frustrating. But there is so much I enjoy that I think I want to keep going, at least for awhile.
All that to say, I was unofficially asked to stay next year, and I've decided to say yes.
That's the update on me, and, by the way, I am kicking the rest of y'alls butts in posting. And we all know I'm not nearly as interesting as I think I am, so update, please! I want to hear what people are thinking as the spring time rolls around.
Love, Sarah
P.S. I still don't drink Scotch.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I made a movie!
Well, ok, not really. I am briefly featured in a movie. That the people from some very tiny local TV channel made about my school. They weren't actually at all interested in me, but a very cute kid happened to be in my class, so they filmed in there for awhile and we "made the cut." So in case you are bored for 2 minutes and want to see my school (and me looking rather dorky and teacher-esque), click on this link and then click on the first video about the East Boston school--and that's us!
(P.S. They may remove the video tomorrow. So you can really only look at it if you're bored tonight...) ;)
(P.S. They may remove the video tomorrow. So you can really only look at it if you're bored tonight...) ;)
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Great Moments in the History of my First Year Teaching
This is one for the books, folks.
So today, I began my next literature unit on the Odyssey by Homer. I've been nervous about this unit for weeks, because the last time I'd read the Odyssey was in 9th grade, and I'm not really sure I understood it much better then than I do now recollecting it. Thankfully, my principal graciously allowed me a day off of my normal work to plan for my next unit. I spent about a full working day's worth of hours focused on preparing -- reading SparkNotes, reading commentaries online, emailing fellow teachers with ideas, and beginning to read the book. I figured I did not have time to completely read through the book all the way before I began teaching, but if I read the notes enough to be familiar with the plot line and if I closely read well ahead of where my students were, I should be fine.
The version of the text that my school owns is a "children's translation" titled, The Children's Homer: The Adventures of Odysseus and the Tale of Troy. Notice that it starts out with, "The Adventures of Odysseus." The opening lines of the book also read, "This is the story of Odysseus, the most renowned of all the heroes the Greek poets have told us of..." So, naturally, I figured, this is the Odyssey--it clearly says it's a story about Odysseus. I will admit I had a little pause about why the first 120 pages focused mostly on Telemachus (Odysseus's son), but I know enough to know that epics tend to include very long, divergent story lines, and I figured the focus on Telemachus was really to just highlight the story of Odysseus. I planned on and began teaching the unit today, explaining clearly to the children (so they would not be confused, as I first was) that we were reading the Odyssey, which is the tale of the quest of Odysseus but also (apparently) of his son Telemachus.
Then I had a brief meeting with our special education teacher, who was arranging accomodated materials for some students. She remarked, "Oh, you're reading the whole book? They only read half of it last year!" I was a little surprised, and a bit concerned that I would not be able to finish my unit in time if I was assigning twice the material that was covered last year. I reassured myself by saying this just meant my course was extremely rigorous, and in all my meetings with the principal she had never once suggested that I shorten the book. Besides, I am morally opposed to shortening books in general, so I decided to move forward and not worry too much about her comment. In class, however, a student raised his hand and asked, "Ms. Stuntz, this book seems to be broken up into two sections. Why is that?" Taking the tactic I have learned from previous teachers, I tried to speak as the confident authority even though I was also confused, responding, "The editor must have broken the Odyssey up into two chunks to make it more manageable for the reader." Child convinced. Problem solved.
Except these two suggestions in one day were just a little much, so I decided to seek a third opinion. I asked another teacher, "Do you happen to remember if and, if so, why they only read half of the Odyssey last year?" She paushed, and then said, "Oh, I remember! Because this is a really abridged version and the first half is actually the Iliad, so they just read the Odyssey." I paused, and began to giggle a little nervously. "Do you know the Iliad at all?" I asked. "Does it, by any chance, focus on Telemachus?" "Oh yes," she replies, "it's all about Telemachus's journey." "Oh no," I reply back, "I have just planned for and begun to teach the children the wrong book."
Now, this is not completely and utterly disastrous. There are many ways to solve this problem. The state of Massachusetts requires me to teach an epic; it does not have to be the Odyssey. This year, in spite of what I said on my course description, it may in fact be the Iliad. I also could have them read part of the Iliad as "background" (after all, it does come first) and then have them skip to the Odyssey and finish that. Or, we can read selections from both and search through them for epic conventions. These are all reasonable options for moving my course forward.
One very concerning questions remains, though. How am I going to explain to my children why Ms. Stuntz, who is a self-proclaimed expert on epics, was so confused that she could not tell the storyline of two entirely different epics apart? As my friend said, "Won't it be great to be a second year teacher?"
So today, I began my next literature unit on the Odyssey by Homer. I've been nervous about this unit for weeks, because the last time I'd read the Odyssey was in 9th grade, and I'm not really sure I understood it much better then than I do now recollecting it. Thankfully, my principal graciously allowed me a day off of my normal work to plan for my next unit. I spent about a full working day's worth of hours focused on preparing -- reading SparkNotes, reading commentaries online, emailing fellow teachers with ideas, and beginning to read the book. I figured I did not have time to completely read through the book all the way before I began teaching, but if I read the notes enough to be familiar with the plot line and if I closely read well ahead of where my students were, I should be fine.
The version of the text that my school owns is a "children's translation" titled, The Children's Homer: The Adventures of Odysseus and the Tale of Troy. Notice that it starts out with, "The Adventures of Odysseus." The opening lines of the book also read, "This is the story of Odysseus, the most renowned of all the heroes the Greek poets have told us of..." So, naturally, I figured, this is the Odyssey--it clearly says it's a story about Odysseus. I will admit I had a little pause about why the first 120 pages focused mostly on Telemachus (Odysseus's son), but I know enough to know that epics tend to include very long, divergent story lines, and I figured the focus on Telemachus was really to just highlight the story of Odysseus. I planned on and began teaching the unit today, explaining clearly to the children (so they would not be confused, as I first was) that we were reading the Odyssey, which is the tale of the quest of Odysseus but also (apparently) of his son Telemachus.
Then I had a brief meeting with our special education teacher, who was arranging accomodated materials for some students. She remarked, "Oh, you're reading the whole book? They only read half of it last year!" I was a little surprised, and a bit concerned that I would not be able to finish my unit in time if I was assigning twice the material that was covered last year. I reassured myself by saying this just meant my course was extremely rigorous, and in all my meetings with the principal she had never once suggested that I shorten the book. Besides, I am morally opposed to shortening books in general, so I decided to move forward and not worry too much about her comment. In class, however, a student raised his hand and asked, "Ms. Stuntz, this book seems to be broken up into two sections. Why is that?" Taking the tactic I have learned from previous teachers, I tried to speak as the confident authority even though I was also confused, responding, "The editor must have broken the Odyssey up into two chunks to make it more manageable for the reader." Child convinced. Problem solved.
Except these two suggestions in one day were just a little much, so I decided to seek a third opinion. I asked another teacher, "Do you happen to remember if and, if so, why they only read half of the Odyssey last year?" She paushed, and then said, "Oh, I remember! Because this is a really abridged version and the first half is actually the Iliad, so they just read the Odyssey." I paused, and began to giggle a little nervously. "Do you know the Iliad at all?" I asked. "Does it, by any chance, focus on Telemachus?" "Oh yes," she replies, "it's all about Telemachus's journey." "Oh no," I reply back, "I have just planned for and begun to teach the children the wrong book."
Now, this is not completely and utterly disastrous. There are many ways to solve this problem. The state of Massachusetts requires me to teach an epic; it does not have to be the Odyssey. This year, in spite of what I said on my course description, it may in fact be the Iliad. I also could have them read part of the Iliad as "background" (after all, it does come first) and then have them skip to the Odyssey and finish that. Or, we can read selections from both and search through them for epic conventions. These are all reasonable options for moving my course forward.
One very concerning questions remains, though. How am I going to explain to my children why Ms. Stuntz, who is a self-proclaimed expert on epics, was so confused that she could not tell the storyline of two entirely different epics apart? As my friend said, "Won't it be great to be a second year teacher?"
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Lifeload: New York is a Woman
Some know, some don't, but I figured I might as well announce it here. I've accepted a summer position at Katten Muchin Rosenman's NYC office. I'll be living in the City May-August. I hope it's ready for me ;)
-M.
-M.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Med school
So after a month and two blog posts, I've managed to ignore the subject of med school. It's not that I don't want to write about it, I just don't know what there is to share. I'm busy studying, making new friends, and enjoying all there is to do in Chicago. I've even forgone seeing movies save for a few I manage to catch now and again (although I should see more, since there are a plethora of free preview screenings here).
So why do I have time to watch two movies this weekend and write this blog post? Well, we just had our first of six tests for Structure-Function this year (the hard sciences course) and I passed! After the post-test party that night, I've had nothing to do.
But in case you wanted to know, here's what med school's been like. In addition to the Structure-Function course, I've had three classes that aren't hard sciences: ethics (significantly less stimulating and more practical than I would have liked), communication skills (videotaped interviews with patient actors to provide relentless yet helpful feedback on our history-taking skills), and patients in context (listening to patients tell us about their medical experiences). I've also had problem-based learning (we read a case and go out and do research to diagnose the disease) and medical decision-making (basically epidemiology and statistics). I've had a few clinical experiences (got to see a catheter!), but a volunteer spot in a clinic I was supposed to have last Wednesday got canceled. That's going to be rescheduled for next month. We have a talent show after winter break, so I may get back into filmmaking for that.
Other than that, there's not much to tell about med school. It's just like normal school. Only with fewer tests and more time spent studying. Life is normal. And I'm pretty happy with normal.
So why do I have time to watch two movies this weekend and write this blog post? Well, we just had our first of six tests for Structure-Function this year (the hard sciences course) and I passed! After the post-test party that night, I've had nothing to do.
But in case you wanted to know, here's what med school's been like. In addition to the Structure-Function course, I've had three classes that aren't hard sciences: ethics (significantly less stimulating and more practical than I would have liked), communication skills (videotaped interviews with patient actors to provide relentless yet helpful feedback on our history-taking skills), and patients in context (listening to patients tell us about their medical experiences). I've also had problem-based learning (we read a case and go out and do research to diagnose the disease) and medical decision-making (basically epidemiology and statistics). I've had a few clinical experiences (got to see a catheter!), but a volunteer spot in a clinic I was supposed to have last Wednesday got canceled. That's going to be rescheduled for next month. We have a talent show after winter break, so I may get back into filmmaking for that.
Other than that, there's not much to tell about med school. It's just like normal school. Only with fewer tests and more time spent studying. Life is normal. And I'm pretty happy with normal.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
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