end of the year comedy

Seth, learning how to manage and express his emotions, is shaking his back like a wet dog, crying out in a whiny voice, ''Ooooouuucccchhh!  My sunburn!!  Teacher, my sunburn huuurrrts!''  Mr. Garcia and I look at each other.

''Why don't you go run your hands under some cold water?''  I say, ever the expert on pseudo-cures for six-year-olds.

''Yeah Seth, try that,'' Mr. Garcia adds.  ''You'll need to keep them there.''

''Can you feel that?  Does that help?''  Seth has been making mewing sounds, and now nods sadly.  Sunburn solved!
                                   

In my phonics group, I scrawl down these awfully ridiculous example sentences:

''Grafton's fondness for lavishly frosted snacks evidently impacts his trimness.''

''Astonishingly, when what my dad called 'that shifty bunch of vagabonds' disbanded, they left the encampment spotless and well-stocked.''

before asking my first-language-Spanish kiddos, ''Do you know what these sentences mean?''
''No,'' they tell me flatly.  Well, frankly, probably the first-language-English students wouldn't either.
                                   

Sweet Virginia writes me great spelling word sentences: 

''My life is incretabol becuse I am a soring egol.'' 

''I have seen spraut and a sow cold poppycat.''

That's, ''My life is incredible because I am a Soaring Eagle [a Blue Ridge honor],'' and ''I have seen Sprout and a show called Poppy Cat'' [both, apparently, PBS shows].  

                                  

And on a small quiz, when asked who is the president of the United States, my high group responded with, 

Araceli: mr oboma

Seth: presdnit obama 

and Sirgio: michael odama

Yep, gonna miss these kids like crazy.

poems for first graders

Part of my job is teaching four rotations of first graders poetry, rhyme, and sentence construction every afternoon. They each have journals to work in with words and pictures, and every week I write a new little poem based on the story they're reading from their lit book... I wanted to share these two from the last few months.

~~~

Winter came, and I burrowed in the ground

When the snow showed its face, I was nowhere to be found

In my tunnel I stayed till spring was on her way

And through December I dreamed of the Butterfly Queen

Of her wings the color of my heart.

~~~

We spent the summer picking apples

From sunrise until dusk

The light kissed my cheek in the morning,

Painted my hair with its dust

When darkness fell, in the kitchen

Grandpa would hold me close

Tell me stories of his boyhood

He talked of Mexico the most

And when I slept, I dreamed of those days

Mi abuela in long bright skirts

Of my Grandpa's hands playing guitar

Red apples, the color of the earth.

storytime

''Did the hobgoblin inhabit the distant dismal bogs?'' reads the sentence in our phonics book. Emilio, reading, stumbles over hobgoblin: ''Hhh...hob...hobble...hhh...hobblegob...hobgob...'' This is one of those rare occasions where I burst out laughing in front of my students. ''It's not you,'' I quickly reassure Emilio, ''these sentences are ridiculous.''

Need more proof?

''This pathetic ostrich is exotic but not splendid.''

''My despondent dentist consults with a skillful calligraphist about his dismal penmanship.''

I understand the point of phonics is to teach, well, phonics, not vocabulary. But when you are working with kids who speak functional English, who maybe understand one-in-four words I say and far less of the ones we read... well, it just gets a bit silly. I will not knock the program though, perhaps in the long run, it really helps. I only wish I could get a job writing sentences as ludicrous as that!

back at blue ridge

Today, when we are discussing ''Los opciones de Kelso (la rana) para resolver problemas grandes y pequeñas,'' we come to ''Calmate.''

''Cool down your chicken,'' Sirgio says, explaining the meaning of ''Calmate.'' I ask him if his mom says this, and he nods his head.

Of the same child, a bright reader, I must frequently request, ''Read it again please, this time nicely,'' as he lapses into funny accents almost without fail by the end of the first sentence on each page.

Later Seth raises his hand as la Maestra asks everyone to put their hands down. ''I was going to say something important,'' he declares.'' ''You have one second to do that,'' she responds. Esta maestra es una poca intensa.

''My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather died 10,000 years ago,'' Seth says.

First grade is about following directions; stomachaches and hard falls can be cured with an ice pack or drink of water. I've been working a lot on reading with these little ones lately, in Spanish and English. Teaching reading to a kid who struggles to connect sounds to letters is no easy task, not to mention that English has 1100 rarely reliable ways to spell 44 sounds for Spanish's 38 and 35 reliable ones.

If preschool and kindergarten are about concepts (time, family and community, spatial and mental categorization), and in grades 6-12 we teach content, then grades 1-5 are all about skills. Cutting, coloring, pasting, tying shoes, ordering, arranging, writing, reading, adding, subtracting, dividing, multiplying, problem-solving, observing... I guess I just never took the elementary teaching vocation very seriously, but think of where you'd be without these basis abilities?

Last week my Latino first grade teacher pointed out that the reason our afternoon block can be a little crazy with behavior problems is because we have all the English readers in one room at that time. ''You mean the behavior kids are white,'' I said, a bit boldly, knowing we were both thinking of the eight or so kids who consistently tend to act up. He nodded, embarrassed. He isn't trying to stir up anything, and culture plays a large part, but it's true.

So, there's that.

I was just reading about a project Apple did last year for the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma, creating Cherokee keyboards and computers so that the language is not lost, so that Cherokee children can be taught in their own language at an immersion school.

So cool!