As another Thanksgiving passes, I'm reminded to take particular care and think of the various things for which I should give thanks on this day of reflection. However, today seems atypical in nature. Over the past year, I've undergone a period of change unlike any known yet throughout my life. I graduated from college; made voyages to Nicaragua and Ireland; was accepted into, and then became a part of, Teach For America, and endured the training that went along with it; am 75% through a young leaders program that has reaffirmed my desire to run for office, and created within me a new confidence in my ability to do so well and successfully; I've established a new home in Gallup, New Mexico, a place about which I'd known scant little, previously; and, finally, I'm making my way 'on my own', that is, I'm out of the dorms, away from my family, fending for myself. Yet, as soon as I write this down, I know exactly how silly it is to proclaim, ever, that I am, in any way, shape, or form, alone. The truth is that I have hundreds of wonderful people behind me, offering love and support, and molding me into the type of person I want to be.
Just this past week, for example, I returned to Las Cruces, New Mexico, the town in which I grew up, to spend a week of vacation with friends who, for all intents and purposes, are family. There exist many examples to discuss of the type of wonderful people who embrace me any time I pass through this magical city, however, I feel as though focusing on one family, in particular, nicely and effectively illustrates the good fortune I've had in meeting supportive, loving folks throughout my life.
Tim and Thea Hand know me and know me well. Tim has been a friend and tennis coach of mine since I was 13. He knows the ins-and-outs of my game. Moreover, he know the inner-rungs of my spirit, what makes me tick, where I want to go, and how I should get there. Thea taught me in high-school. She delivered many important lessons that I carry with me to this day and work to employ in my own classroom. One lesson in particular has stuck with me and passes through my mind often. It was a monologue by Thea regarding the difference between 'tolerance' and 'acceptance', and the preferential nature of the latter over the former. She exclaimed that one could tolerate someone else without ever taking the effort to truly know their beliefs, traditions, or way of life, more generally. Acceptance, however, causes one to reflect on her or his own beliefs, and how it might be, indeed it is, O.K. for others to believe different things, practice different activities, and lead their lives in the way they choose. Acceptance is tought, but more valuable, than tolerance. Teach tolerance? Nay, teach acceptance.
The Hand family has welcomed me throughout my post-Las Cruces career. Whether it was offering advice for passing through school, helpful pointers to become a better tennis player, or encouraging thoughtful reflection on just what I want out of life, they have always been there for me. I feel that I am truly one of the family. Thea's son, Ryan, is a remarkable young man, student, and tennis player. This 12-year-old has tremendous upside, and I enjoy and take very seriously the responsibility of providing him with a good example. I can only hope that he may take some things from me and my experience that help him as he passes through his. With all Thea and Tim give me, it seems the least I can do to help Ryan meet his awesome potential.
When we trust other people, through our fate into their hands, their naturally emerges a sense of vulnerability. We, in essence, are no longer in full control of our future. I never worry about this, and this, undoubtedly, is a luxury not enjoyed by all. I needn't worry about trusting others because those closest to me, I know, care deeply for my future and development. I many times wonder if the people in my life are aware of how grateful I am for them. It would be easy for them not to be, given my sub-par abilities in terms of keeping in touch, expressing gratitude, or displaying some of the other basic behaviors of a good friend, in general. However, I hope that, with this posting, somehow, over the Web, I can convey a real and genuine sense of my thankfulness on this special day for all of the love and support I have received and continue receive, especially over the last year of change. May each of you spend wonderful, enjoyable, and relaxing time with friends and family this Thanksgiving. I'll be thinking about each of you as I enjoy mine.
Cheerio from Las Cruces.
Thursday, 22 November 2007
Sunday, 18 November 2007
Sweat lodge rings in the cultural new year
Last Wednesday, I attended a 'sweat lodge' at the home of a good friend and colleague. In some Navajo traditions, the sweat lodge constitutes a cherished cultural component. Discussing the ritual with my colleague over the course of several weeks, I felt excited, if somewhat anxious, when he finally handed me a map last Wednesday and invited me to take part in the revered Navajo 'sweat'.
After a bit of difficulty (my own fault, entirely) in finding my colleague's home, I arrived just before six, as the sun moved slowly lower and lower beneath the horizon. Stripping down to some trunks, I made my way to the small structure in which it seems the ceremony was taking place. A man outside the lodge, Emerson, led me to the entrance. I could hear a drum and singing taking place inside. Slowly, excitedly, I entered.
What I saw when I slipped inside the skins and blankets could not be easier to describe- absolutely nothing. It was pitch black! I sat down. I could tell, once the curtain opened a bit later, that the space was comprised of a circular bench, on which the sweaters sit, and, in the center, a pit in which the numerous lava rocks that brought the space to incredible temperatures (temperatures that make your fiercest sauna seem like the frozen food section at your local grocer) rested, emitting tremendous warmth and producing intense and immediate perspiration all over my body. The music and singing began, chants I could not decipher, but the passion, emotion, and strange precision of which there was no mistaking. I was in an intense setting- this much, I knew, was true.
The temperature increased with each splash of water on the rocks. The steady 'whoosh, whoosh' was invariably followed by a piercing tinge on my skin as the hot air penetrated my body. My nose began to run. Water raced down my face and chest. My side hurt. Still, I felt well- strangely well. It was as though all of the ills and pent-upedness collecting inside of me were, somehow, racing out along with what seemed like several pounds of liquid I lost.
The chants meant a lot. I could tell that these words, songs were sacred, traditional, passed-on through many years. The men sang with such conviction in their voice that I remember wondering what these men were like in their everday life. Were they quiet? Reserved? Perhaps this exercise, once or twice a week, gave them the outlet they needed to vent pent-up frustration and remain in a strange, admirable calm for the remainder of the week. Whatever the case is, the chanting means a lot- both to the men who were leading it and me as a sat there in amazement of what was transpiring.
As the night wore on, I became more fully aware that something very healthy for my soul was happening. I felt lighter, more concentrated. My head cleared, body uncoiled. I embraced the heat, and it seemed to surround and protect me, from what, I don't know- but it had, undoubtedly, shifted from foe to friend, from adversary to ally. Each bead of sweat represented apprehension and stress leaving my body. I began to feel what my colleague had so sincerely described.
Finally, as the night drew to a close, the sweaters lured me back in to the lodge for one more round. They said that it would not take long but joked under their breath that 'it'll be hot!' Having just gone through nearly three hours of heat, I figured a few more minutes would do me well and, after helping to load in the remaining lava rocks, rejoined my newfound companions in the heat chamber. A man who, earlier, had been identified as the local chief, gave a special welcome to me, expressing his thanks that I was teaching and a hope that I would return to join them again. In turn, I thanked him for the opportunity to take part in this special ceremony and affirmed that I would, indeed, come back to take part again. After going around the circle, offering kind and encouraging words to the remaining sweaters, the chief initiated a traditional Navajo mountain song.
With each splash, I felt the heat rise, until it was too much. As the voices' volumes rose, I began to breathe in fire, each inhalation acquiring less oxygen then the last. My mind raced, panick (and pain) set in. I reached in, trying to draw upon a calm, a strength, an invincibility that, simply, was not there. Finally, fearing that something could go seriously wrong with my physical state, I urgently expressed a need to leave the lodge. After a coupld of calls, I exited, rolling out into the cool night air. Of course, I felt weak, but I knew I had done the right thing. Staying in the lodge would have posed a very serious risk to my physical health. I was, it seems, not ready for the 'last round'.
Minutes later, as the other sweaters emerged from the lodge, panting and laughing at the extremity of their actions, they teased me for leaving, but later assured me that almost no 'first timers' made it all the way through the last round. They expressed confident that, with time and increasing acclimation, I would find the strength and calm to endure the rapidly rising temperature. Importantly, they also recommended that I tilt my head down, not up, as it gets hotter. 'Thanks, boys,' I replied- this knowledge would have been of great benefit as I had held on for dear life minutes earlier!
Wednesday night's event further evidenced the tremendous opportunity I have here to learn a great deal about, and fully immerse myself in, a new culture. It is a goal of mine, in life, to continually possess a fascination with, and openness to, the process of putting myself in unfamiliar places, particularly as regards learning about new ways of life. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to attend the sweat lodge and look forward to returning in future. Perservering throughout the last round now constitutes something of a right of passage in my mind, that is, something I must find the inner-strength and peace to do. As my cultural education continues and quicken in Northwestern New Mexico, my proximity to these assets becomes closer. I can feel the end of that last round and will report on what it feels like as soon as I know it more intimately.
Cheerio.
After a bit of difficulty (my own fault, entirely) in finding my colleague's home, I arrived just before six, as the sun moved slowly lower and lower beneath the horizon. Stripping down to some trunks, I made my way to the small structure in which it seems the ceremony was taking place. A man outside the lodge, Emerson, led me to the entrance. I could hear a drum and singing taking place inside. Slowly, excitedly, I entered.
What I saw when I slipped inside the skins and blankets could not be easier to describe- absolutely nothing. It was pitch black! I sat down. I could tell, once the curtain opened a bit later, that the space was comprised of a circular bench, on which the sweaters sit, and, in the center, a pit in which the numerous lava rocks that brought the space to incredible temperatures (temperatures that make your fiercest sauna seem like the frozen food section at your local grocer) rested, emitting tremendous warmth and producing intense and immediate perspiration all over my body. The music and singing began, chants I could not decipher, but the passion, emotion, and strange precision of which there was no mistaking. I was in an intense setting- this much, I knew, was true.
The temperature increased with each splash of water on the rocks. The steady 'whoosh, whoosh' was invariably followed by a piercing tinge on my skin as the hot air penetrated my body. My nose began to run. Water raced down my face and chest. My side hurt. Still, I felt well- strangely well. It was as though all of the ills and pent-upedness collecting inside of me were, somehow, racing out along with what seemed like several pounds of liquid I lost.
The chants meant a lot. I could tell that these words, songs were sacred, traditional, passed-on through many years. The men sang with such conviction in their voice that I remember wondering what these men were like in their everday life. Were they quiet? Reserved? Perhaps this exercise, once or twice a week, gave them the outlet they needed to vent pent-up frustration and remain in a strange, admirable calm for the remainder of the week. Whatever the case is, the chanting means a lot- both to the men who were leading it and me as a sat there in amazement of what was transpiring.
As the night wore on, I became more fully aware that something very healthy for my soul was happening. I felt lighter, more concentrated. My head cleared, body uncoiled. I embraced the heat, and it seemed to surround and protect me, from what, I don't know- but it had, undoubtedly, shifted from foe to friend, from adversary to ally. Each bead of sweat represented apprehension and stress leaving my body. I began to feel what my colleague had so sincerely described.
Finally, as the night drew to a close, the sweaters lured me back in to the lodge for one more round. They said that it would not take long but joked under their breath that 'it'll be hot!' Having just gone through nearly three hours of heat, I figured a few more minutes would do me well and, after helping to load in the remaining lava rocks, rejoined my newfound companions in the heat chamber. A man who, earlier, had been identified as the local chief, gave a special welcome to me, expressing his thanks that I was teaching and a hope that I would return to join them again. In turn, I thanked him for the opportunity to take part in this special ceremony and affirmed that I would, indeed, come back to take part again. After going around the circle, offering kind and encouraging words to the remaining sweaters, the chief initiated a traditional Navajo mountain song.
With each splash, I felt the heat rise, until it was too much. As the voices' volumes rose, I began to breathe in fire, each inhalation acquiring less oxygen then the last. My mind raced, panick (and pain) set in. I reached in, trying to draw upon a calm, a strength, an invincibility that, simply, was not there. Finally, fearing that something could go seriously wrong with my physical state, I urgently expressed a need to leave the lodge. After a coupld of calls, I exited, rolling out into the cool night air. Of course, I felt weak, but I knew I had done the right thing. Staying in the lodge would have posed a very serious risk to my physical health. I was, it seems, not ready for the 'last round'.
Minutes later, as the other sweaters emerged from the lodge, panting and laughing at the extremity of their actions, they teased me for leaving, but later assured me that almost no 'first timers' made it all the way through the last round. They expressed confident that, with time and increasing acclimation, I would find the strength and calm to endure the rapidly rising temperature. Importantly, they also recommended that I tilt my head down, not up, as it gets hotter. 'Thanks, boys,' I replied- this knowledge would have been of great benefit as I had held on for dear life minutes earlier!
Wednesday night's event further evidenced the tremendous opportunity I have here to learn a great deal about, and fully immerse myself in, a new culture. It is a goal of mine, in life, to continually possess a fascination with, and openness to, the process of putting myself in unfamiliar places, particularly as regards learning about new ways of life. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to attend the sweat lodge and look forward to returning in future. Perservering throughout the last round now constitutes something of a right of passage in my mind, that is, something I must find the inner-strength and peace to do. As my cultural education continues and quicken in Northwestern New Mexico, my proximity to these assets becomes closer. I can feel the end of that last round and will report on what it feels like as soon as I know it more intimately.
Cheerio.
Sunday, 4 November 2007
Rock, Chalk, and that Ticking Clock: Adentures from Week 11
Last week was a big one at school. Not only are we settling into our second quarter, and moving closer toward a sense of normalcy in our classrooms, but Church Rock Academy teachers and staff also had their first quarterly 'report-out' to district and state educational officials regarding our progress thus far in the school year. As a first-year teacher, I was not overly-involved in the construction of the presentation that the leadership team made to our audience, however, I felt a sense of responsibility for the results contained therein.
Unsure of how our presentation was being received but confident that we do a lot of good things at the school, comments by our district assessor at the end of the talk provided a sense of pride and inspiration for the CRE staff. Our assessor said that, of all the quarterly report-outs she'd attended this year, ours was the most comprehensive, thorough, and revealing one she'd seen yet. While, again, I did not help put this together, I think her comments speak to the unity and chemistry that we, as a staff, have developed at Church Rock. Much of this is due to the coach-like approach taken by our principla, Gary Schuster, who served as a football coach for many years and strives, above all, to ensure that staff is on the same page and each individual feels valued. This is a divergence, I'm told, from the school's past, and welcome and positive change.
The sense of progress is powerful. I began thinking about how lucky I am to be at Church Rock. Everyone, from the teachers, to the custodians, to the specials instructors (P.E., band, library), to the councilor, plays an important part in what we do, and, in her or his own way, helps kids do well in school. I've been part of many different teams in the past, but never one of this kind. It has always, in the past, been about striving to become better and more effective as a group, but the results rested squarely with us, as opposed to over 200 students for whom our cohesion can mean the difference between a quality educational experience or, well, not.
This week was also big for me, personally, in my classroom. On Wednesday, my program director for TFA, who has been an incredible resource and used to teach at Church Rock, came in to do her 'extended observation' of my classroom. Unsure of how to approach this, I simply decided to do what I always do in terms of preparing and then implementing the lesson plan- nothing special. I felt as though giving her a glimpse of how things normally run in my class would be more beneficial for her and me, as it would allow her to give meaningful feedback I can apply immediately in our normal process in the class. Adding an interesting quirk to the observation was that Wednesday was Halloween, and while most candy consumption comes in the evening, a good number of my students had gone ahead and jumped the gun on that one, beginning the candy intake probably before they even reached school! I knew I'd have my work cut out for me in running a calm, focused lesson for my PD.
The lesson I chose involved direction. We have been learning about maps and map skills, one of which relates to the compass rose, a key element of all good maps, as my students (I hope!) would tell you. On Wednesday, I decided to focus on relative location, that is, the idea that one place rests in a particular direction relative to another. For example, Santa Fe is southwest of Topeka, Kansas. The idea was to introduce the concept and then distribute a worksheet featuring ten city combinations, requiring students to find the relative location of the first city to the other.
The review of our previous lessons to maps statted well. Students recalled, seemingly with ease, the key components of a map, and some different types of maps we'd studied to that point. I had good participation from students with a range of performance levels, which I and my PD thought encouraging. Things were off to a good start.
As I moved into new material (the portion of the lesson in which a new concept is introduced), things continued to go smoothly, I thought. I discussed the concept of relative location, using a globe and map to illustrate my point that two locations have a directional location, and also throwing in the point that, though most cartographers orient their maps so that north is 'up', this need not be the case. To illustrate this point, I flipped the globe upside down and asked students to tell me in which direction north was. Most realized that, though the physical location of the globe had change, north still pointed toward the North Pole, which, now, was at the bottom of the globe. Got it? Well, most of my kids did, and this is the key thing!
After introduction to new material, I had to volunteers pass out our activity on relative location. I gave students my behavioral and performance expectations. They were to work in teams and raise their hands, though not call out to me, if they needed help. I went immediately to some of my lower-performing students, for whom the difference between a successful and unsuccessful day is largely inertiatic. In other words, if they start off well, they will keep going with an assignment. Getting the ball rolling then, is the key. So, I strode over to some of the students I knew would need assistance getting going, and, to my delight, they seemed to enjoy the activity and, not only did they understand the basic requirements, they also worked cooperatively to move forward on it. Nice!
I continued to circle the room. My strongest students were looking good, and I began wrestling with the thought of having them, upon completing the assignment, help other students who had not done so yet. I decided that this would be a good idea, but it didn't come to this as, by the time I was ready to collect the assignment, most students, even the typically quickest workers, had only just finished. In sum, I was pleased with the class' efforts. Though it took some students a while to get going (this is usual with my students), most everybody had completed a good chunk of the assignment, and, more impressively, many had helped their peers do the same. Teamwork, baby- yeah!
After this, and about one hour into our learning day, it was time to take a practice spelling test. I've been giving students ten spelling words per week beyond their grade level. Last week's words were particularly challenging, and I was curious to say how students would perform in our practice assessment (I give the real test on Friday). As we moved into the test, I was, first of all, pleased with the professionalism my students took to testing. They were quiet, attentive, and working hard. We successfully completed the assignment, and then students traded and graded. We were a long way from our class goal of everyone making a ninety percent or above, but results have improved since our first practice test, and I was encouraged.
By this point, my PD had left. I felt unsure as to how she thought things had gone. However, during a quick glance at my e-mail during lunch, I saw that she had sent me a message with sincere and encouraging remarks on what she'd observed in my class that morning. This thrilled me on a number of levels. First, I have tremendous respect for my PD and want to make her proud and show that I consider her suggestions and put them into play. Secondly, since she formed strong connections to Church Rock during her time there and taught siblings of many of my current students, I feel a particular sense of responsibility to do well at this school and meet my responsibilities to families with which she has close ties. Reading that she thought I was making progress in these areas excited me and means a great deal. I felt good about the mornings events.
Looking ahead, I feel increasingly excited, encouraged, and energetic about what we do and will do at Church Rock. I've decided to start a weekend mentoring service, which will allow students to get three hours of extra practice with their work on Saturday mornings. More than that, we'll use computer technology and the internet in our activities, as well as teach students important test-taking strategies that we'd, otherwise, not be able to cover given the time constraints of the school day. Staff response to the idea, with many teachers and even some administrators volunteering to help out. I'm excited to see if we can use this extra time to bolster our students skills enough to bring them up to proficient on their state testing in the spring. After pouring over the number with my two colleagues that also teach 4th and 5th grade students at Church Rock, it became clear that we have a number of students who are knocking at the door of proficiency. Regardless of your stance on standardized testing and its ability to render an accurate assessment of students' academic abilities, the rules of the game are such that schools and students are judged largely based on how many students pass these types of assessments. We play by the rules of the game at Church Rock and, as such, would like to offer our students every opportunity to make the grade come test-time. Hopefuly, the weekend program will make strides in that direction.
Also, coming out of an awesome AmeriCorps conference in Roswell, New Mexico last weekend (yes, I visited the International UFO Museum and, yes, it was awesome, and, yes, I think that there was some sort of government coverup, not necessarily implying that an alien ship crashed in Roswell in 1947, but something occurred other than a weather balloon malfunction- this could be a whole different blogging topic!), I have a good idea, I think, of a service project for Church Rock that would get the community involved and do good things for our school and students. Last Saturday, as part of the 'make a difference component' of our conference, several New Mexico AmeriCorps members visited Pecos Elementary School and went to work on painting and renovating their playground. Forutnately, several of the AmeriCorps members present (not including myself, clearly) were trained artists. They set about creating an incredible 'learning tree' just outside the door that students use to get outside. It was elaborate and incredible. I wrote a message, which always inspired me when I was a kid, on their sidewalk. It read: 'knowledge is power'. I also helped paint lines onto the basketball court, which, before our arrival, was bare. Other service volunteers created four-square and hopskotch areas. By the time we left, the Pecos Ponies had themselves a wonderful, brighter new playing area, and it was great to see the fruit of our effort borne out before us. It was a satisying morning of service.
Leaving the school, I reflected on how easy it would be to replicate what we had done at Pecos at Church Rock. I ran the idea by my principal, and he backed it 100%, suggesting that we might even be able to use school funds to buy paint, tape, and brushes. The way I envision it, staff, students, family, and other community members could come together for a couple of hours on November 10th or 17th to shape up our playground. None of our b-ball courts have lines, and, given the excitement a substantial number of our students hold toward playing this sport, it would be a great thing to spruce up the old courts. Moreover, brightening up our play area, and cleaning up trash in the schoolyard will allow all Church Rock stakeholders to take pride in their school. All of this is designed to bring more people closer together toward the end of increase academic gains for students. If this small project does anything to move toward that noble objective, then I think it is worth it.
Finally, in exciting news, I've got three things for you. First, I had an excellent time traveling out to have dinner with a good friend who lives near Zuni, NM, on Wednesday night. This young lady has been a great resource and friend for me as I transition into this new life, and I was thrilled to visit her. She, moreover, lives in an incredible log cabin, the decoration of which reflects her sophistication and appreciation of multiple cultures. It was a nice evening, and I enjoyed conversating with her, her roommate, and a fellow TFA '07 Corps Member who came over, as well.
Secondly, I ordered a cool, long-sleeve Church Rock t-shirt. Vamos, Bulldogs, vamos!
Finally, G-Force, the team I joined as part of the Gallup Adult Soccer League, has earned a three-seed in the playoffs and wil square off tonight against a worthy opponent in the quarterfinals. We beat our opponents 2-1 in our first game due to an incredible effort from our keeper, my roommate, Josh, from Baltimore. They have been itching for a rematch and will be gunning for revenge tonight. Still, we're up to the task and will approach this game with ferociousnes and a strong desire to advance. Is our soccer pretty- no? Is it effective- hopefully, after tonight, the answer will be a decisive yes.
Cheers from Gallup,
--DBalke
Unsure of how our presentation was being received but confident that we do a lot of good things at the school, comments by our district assessor at the end of the talk provided a sense of pride and inspiration for the CRE staff. Our assessor said that, of all the quarterly report-outs she'd attended this year, ours was the most comprehensive, thorough, and revealing one she'd seen yet. While, again, I did not help put this together, I think her comments speak to the unity and chemistry that we, as a staff, have developed at Church Rock. Much of this is due to the coach-like approach taken by our principla, Gary Schuster, who served as a football coach for many years and strives, above all, to ensure that staff is on the same page and each individual feels valued. This is a divergence, I'm told, from the school's past, and welcome and positive change.
The sense of progress is powerful. I began thinking about how lucky I am to be at Church Rock. Everyone, from the teachers, to the custodians, to the specials instructors (P.E., band, library), to the councilor, plays an important part in what we do, and, in her or his own way, helps kids do well in school. I've been part of many different teams in the past, but never one of this kind. It has always, in the past, been about striving to become better and more effective as a group, but the results rested squarely with us, as opposed to over 200 students for whom our cohesion can mean the difference between a quality educational experience or, well, not.
This week was also big for me, personally, in my classroom. On Wednesday, my program director for TFA, who has been an incredible resource and used to teach at Church Rock, came in to do her 'extended observation' of my classroom. Unsure of how to approach this, I simply decided to do what I always do in terms of preparing and then implementing the lesson plan- nothing special. I felt as though giving her a glimpse of how things normally run in my class would be more beneficial for her and me, as it would allow her to give meaningful feedback I can apply immediately in our normal process in the class. Adding an interesting quirk to the observation was that Wednesday was Halloween, and while most candy consumption comes in the evening, a good number of my students had gone ahead and jumped the gun on that one, beginning the candy intake probably before they even reached school! I knew I'd have my work cut out for me in running a calm, focused lesson for my PD.
The lesson I chose involved direction. We have been learning about maps and map skills, one of which relates to the compass rose, a key element of all good maps, as my students (I hope!) would tell you. On Wednesday, I decided to focus on relative location, that is, the idea that one place rests in a particular direction relative to another. For example, Santa Fe is southwest of Topeka, Kansas. The idea was to introduce the concept and then distribute a worksheet featuring ten city combinations, requiring students to find the relative location of the first city to the other.
The review of our previous lessons to maps statted well. Students recalled, seemingly with ease, the key components of a map, and some different types of maps we'd studied to that point. I had good participation from students with a range of performance levels, which I and my PD thought encouraging. Things were off to a good start.
As I moved into new material (the portion of the lesson in which a new concept is introduced), things continued to go smoothly, I thought. I discussed the concept of relative location, using a globe and map to illustrate my point that two locations have a directional location, and also throwing in the point that, though most cartographers orient their maps so that north is 'up', this need not be the case. To illustrate this point, I flipped the globe upside down and asked students to tell me in which direction north was. Most realized that, though the physical location of the globe had change, north still pointed toward the North Pole, which, now, was at the bottom of the globe. Got it? Well, most of my kids did, and this is the key thing!
After introduction to new material, I had to volunteers pass out our activity on relative location. I gave students my behavioral and performance expectations. They were to work in teams and raise their hands, though not call out to me, if they needed help. I went immediately to some of my lower-performing students, for whom the difference between a successful and unsuccessful day is largely inertiatic. In other words, if they start off well, they will keep going with an assignment. Getting the ball rolling then, is the key. So, I strode over to some of the students I knew would need assistance getting going, and, to my delight, they seemed to enjoy the activity and, not only did they understand the basic requirements, they also worked cooperatively to move forward on it. Nice!
I continued to circle the room. My strongest students were looking good, and I began wrestling with the thought of having them, upon completing the assignment, help other students who had not done so yet. I decided that this would be a good idea, but it didn't come to this as, by the time I was ready to collect the assignment, most students, even the typically quickest workers, had only just finished. In sum, I was pleased with the class' efforts. Though it took some students a while to get going (this is usual with my students), most everybody had completed a good chunk of the assignment, and, more impressively, many had helped their peers do the same. Teamwork, baby- yeah!
After this, and about one hour into our learning day, it was time to take a practice spelling test. I've been giving students ten spelling words per week beyond their grade level. Last week's words were particularly challenging, and I was curious to say how students would perform in our practice assessment (I give the real test on Friday). As we moved into the test, I was, first of all, pleased with the professionalism my students took to testing. They were quiet, attentive, and working hard. We successfully completed the assignment, and then students traded and graded. We were a long way from our class goal of everyone making a ninety percent or above, but results have improved since our first practice test, and I was encouraged.
By this point, my PD had left. I felt unsure as to how she thought things had gone. However, during a quick glance at my e-mail during lunch, I saw that she had sent me a message with sincere and encouraging remarks on what she'd observed in my class that morning. This thrilled me on a number of levels. First, I have tremendous respect for my PD and want to make her proud and show that I consider her suggestions and put them into play. Secondly, since she formed strong connections to Church Rock during her time there and taught siblings of many of my current students, I feel a particular sense of responsibility to do well at this school and meet my responsibilities to families with which she has close ties. Reading that she thought I was making progress in these areas excited me and means a great deal. I felt good about the mornings events.
Looking ahead, I feel increasingly excited, encouraged, and energetic about what we do and will do at Church Rock. I've decided to start a weekend mentoring service, which will allow students to get three hours of extra practice with their work on Saturday mornings. More than that, we'll use computer technology and the internet in our activities, as well as teach students important test-taking strategies that we'd, otherwise, not be able to cover given the time constraints of the school day. Staff response to the idea, with many teachers and even some administrators volunteering to help out. I'm excited to see if we can use this extra time to bolster our students skills enough to bring them up to proficient on their state testing in the spring. After pouring over the number with my two colleagues that also teach 4th and 5th grade students at Church Rock, it became clear that we have a number of students who are knocking at the door of proficiency. Regardless of your stance on standardized testing and its ability to render an accurate assessment of students' academic abilities, the rules of the game are such that schools and students are judged largely based on how many students pass these types of assessments. We play by the rules of the game at Church Rock and, as such, would like to offer our students every opportunity to make the grade come test-time. Hopefuly, the weekend program will make strides in that direction.
Also, coming out of an awesome AmeriCorps conference in Roswell, New Mexico last weekend (yes, I visited the International UFO Museum and, yes, it was awesome, and, yes, I think that there was some sort of government coverup, not necessarily implying that an alien ship crashed in Roswell in 1947, but something occurred other than a weather balloon malfunction- this could be a whole different blogging topic!), I have a good idea, I think, of a service project for Church Rock that would get the community involved and do good things for our school and students. Last Saturday, as part of the 'make a difference component' of our conference, several New Mexico AmeriCorps members visited Pecos Elementary School and went to work on painting and renovating their playground. Forutnately, several of the AmeriCorps members present (not including myself, clearly) were trained artists. They set about creating an incredible 'learning tree' just outside the door that students use to get outside. It was elaborate and incredible. I wrote a message, which always inspired me when I was a kid, on their sidewalk. It read: 'knowledge is power'. I also helped paint lines onto the basketball court, which, before our arrival, was bare. Other service volunteers created four-square and hopskotch areas. By the time we left, the Pecos Ponies had themselves a wonderful, brighter new playing area, and it was great to see the fruit of our effort borne out before us. It was a satisying morning of service.
Leaving the school, I reflected on how easy it would be to replicate what we had done at Pecos at Church Rock. I ran the idea by my principal, and he backed it 100%, suggesting that we might even be able to use school funds to buy paint, tape, and brushes. The way I envision it, staff, students, family, and other community members could come together for a couple of hours on November 10th or 17th to shape up our playground. None of our b-ball courts have lines, and, given the excitement a substantial number of our students hold toward playing this sport, it would be a great thing to spruce up the old courts. Moreover, brightening up our play area, and cleaning up trash in the schoolyard will allow all Church Rock stakeholders to take pride in their school. All of this is designed to bring more people closer together toward the end of increase academic gains for students. If this small project does anything to move toward that noble objective, then I think it is worth it.
Finally, in exciting news, I've got three things for you. First, I had an excellent time traveling out to have dinner with a good friend who lives near Zuni, NM, on Wednesday night. This young lady has been a great resource and friend for me as I transition into this new life, and I was thrilled to visit her. She, moreover, lives in an incredible log cabin, the decoration of which reflects her sophistication and appreciation of multiple cultures. It was a nice evening, and I enjoyed conversating with her, her roommate, and a fellow TFA '07 Corps Member who came over, as well.
Secondly, I ordered a cool, long-sleeve Church Rock t-shirt. Vamos, Bulldogs, vamos!
Finally, G-Force, the team I joined as part of the Gallup Adult Soccer League, has earned a three-seed in the playoffs and wil square off tonight against a worthy opponent in the quarterfinals. We beat our opponents 2-1 in our first game due to an incredible effort from our keeper, my roommate, Josh, from Baltimore. They have been itching for a rematch and will be gunning for revenge tonight. Still, we're up to the task and will approach this game with ferociousnes and a strong desire to advance. Is our soccer pretty- no? Is it effective- hopefully, after tonight, the answer will be a decisive yes.
Cheers from Gallup,
--DBalke
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