The Candid Teacher

Well Played, Cheerios

We know that what our children see matters. Many parents carefully monitor their children's screen time, helping them choose appropriate shows and movies, but what about the ads in between those shows and movies? What messages are they sending to kids? In a world of media bias and so many one-sided messages about family, diversity, beauty, I think Cheerios ads have been getting it right for a while. This cute commercial unfortunately garnered a lot of negative attention on YouTube simply for portraying a biracial family, proving the need for more ads like it. Cheerios refused to pull the ad, and upped the ante with a touching sequel to the controversial commercial, aired during the Super Bowl. Touche Cheerios.

Another frustrating aspect of advertising for me has been the stereotypical portrayal of the hard-working, long suffering mom and the lazy, incompetent dad. (Has anyone seen a laundry detergent commercial lately?) But Cheerios steps up to the plate once again to deliver a different message. These recent commercials show involved, dedicated, competent dads in entertaining and heartwarming ads. Well done, Cheerios.

P.S.  This commercial also nails it. It's a real biracial family, the Rukavinas, their Dad who is an amputee, and how Swiffer allows him to help more easily around the house. Way to go, Swiffer.

photo credit: ModernDope (old account) via photopin cc

4 Words to Stop & Change Misbehavior

When a child misbehaves, two separate things need to happen in order to teach better behavior. First, the behavior needs to stop. Second, the behavior needs to change. However too often, we only focus on the stopping part. It is not enough to simply punish or scare a child into stopping the behavior and then move on, satisfied because they have stopped doing whatever it was that was unacceptable. It is also not enough to only tell them what you’d rather they were doing without first acknowledging what they’re doing wrong. In my experience four little words can accomplish both tasks and teach children to effectively manage their behavior: "You are...I need..."

This has been one of the most helpful phrases I’ve ever used when correcting a child's behavior. I learned it from Diana Day, a teacher and consultant with over 30 years of experience in the classroom, and it has completely changed how I work with children to stop inappropriate behaviors, and change them into appropriate ones.

Here's how it works...When a child has been misbehaving or disobeying, walk over to that child and get on their level to have a private conversation. Make sure you have their attention, and calmly say to them,

“You are (insert inappropriate behavior). I need you to (insert appropriate behavior.)”

For example, in a classroom a child might be repeatedly shouting out answers instead of raising her hand. After a few visual or verbal reminders to raise her hand, if the behavior has still not improved, I would walk over to the child and tell her, “You are shouting out answers without raising your hand. I need you to raise your hand when you have something to say and wait for me to call on you.”Then I would simply walk away, or as I've mentioned before, I might make sure she has heard my message by asking, “Understand, or got it?”

At home, it might look something like this: “You are bothering your brother by kicking his seat. I need you to keep your feet to yourself.” Or with older kids, “You are late coming home after school. I need you to call me if you are going to be later than 4:00.”

You are... communicates that you clearly see the inappropriate behavior and are holding them responsible for it. When you start the discipline with a statement of exactly what you saw them doing, it eliminates some of the “I didn’t do anything!” types of reactions from your kids. I need... then puts you in a position of calm authority and clearly states what you expect. The beauty of this method is it leaves very little room for confusion, while calmly and firmly correcting unacceptable behavior.

In order to be effective, the adult must not engage in an argument. You are simply stating two facts, and neither of them are up for debate. The child was doing something inappropriate, you’re acknowledging that you noticed it and that you expect a different behavior. End of story. By not hanging around to engage in an argument, there is no need for the child to get defensive, because they’re not in trouble. You are making the expectation clear in a calm way. Over time, and with consistency, the child also knows that you mean business, and you see them and care about them doing the right thing and learning to  manage their behaviors.

Another key factor in this being effective is to be specfic. Instead of general statements like "You are disobeying. I need you to listen," try to be more specific..."You are not following my direction about bedtime. I need you to go put your pajamas on right now."

Give it a try. It takes a little practice, but if you can consistently phrase your corrections to kids in this way, you'll notice less escalating misbehavior overall, and fewer power struggles when a misbehavior does need addressing.

photo credit: Andy M Taylor via photopin cc

School Is Exhausting

Perhaps you've noticed that your kid is wiped out and hangry (hungry/angry) when they get home from school these first couple of weeks, especially if they are new to this whole school thing. That's OK! Your child is going to be completely exhausted for a while (as is their teacher). It is a long day for little bodies (and big ones). Be patient and allow time for everyone, (including yourself), to develop a rhythm. A new routine of packing lunches, checking backpacks and folders, waking up early, homework, and after school activities can really turn the household upside down.

Your child might be just plain wiped out for the first few weeks and maybe even months of school. It is a long day for them, and they may need a nap when they get home. If they are cranky and exhausted every afternoon or evening after around the halfway point in the school year, it may be a sign they need to go to bed earlier. Kids need lots of sleep when their little brains and bodies are busy throughout the day growing and stretching in new ways, and sometimes we don’t realize they aren’t really getting enough. Plus, an earlier bedtime for them means more grown-up time for you.

You also may notice an increase in your child’s appetite after starting school. They are expending a lot of energy throughout the day, and growing brains need fuel. Besides, a cafeteria full of 100 or more kids can be a distracting place at first, so they often don’t eat all of their lunch. Soon, they will adjust, and will probably start finishing their lunch more consistently. In the beginning, just know they have a lot to take in at lunchtime, and it can be overwhelming initially. Not to worry, it will soon be their new normal, but in the meantime you can help by making sure they are eating a healthy breakfast (yogurt and a banana as you fly out the door totally count), and filling snacks.

Your kids are likely adjusting to a new sleeping and eating routine, and it may just take their body a bit to fully adapt. Snacks and meals are scheduled at school, and those may not be the times they are used to eating. In addition, they are probably going to bed and getting up earlier than they are used to. Soon, things will work themselves out.

Along those lines, we teachers may look all put together the first week or so of school. We may even wear heels or a tie because the school year is still shiny and new, but just know that we too are exhausted. I promise, even the most seasoned teacher needs a week or two to get into a routine as he or she is getting to know the students.

In kindergarten especially, it is physically taxing just to make sure all those little bodies stay together and everyone makes it back from a bathroom break. On top of that, teachers have spent countless hours setting up their classroom, rearranging, and reorganizing. So, you may need to cut him or her some slack in returning phone calls or emails at first. If they seem a little scattered on the playground at pick-up time, they probably are, but don’t write them off as a flake just yet. They are juggling a lot! Give them the benefit of the doubt, and maybe bring them an iced coffee or a Diet Coke. August and September are hot, and caffeine is always appreciated.

**This is an excerpt from my book (Chapter 1: Butt Cracks, Kindergarten, and How to Really Prepare Your Child for School) Grab your copy of Candid Classroom on Amazon for more!**

 

photo credit: JoePhilipson via photopin cc

Saying Goodbye at the Kindergarten Door

It's back to school time, and August and September can be filled with anxiety for families across the country.  I know there are uncertain tears, sometimes more from parents than their kids. It can be excruciating to bring your child to kindergarten or a new school for the first time, especially if they are nervous and dramatic as you are leaving.  You feel like you have to be strong and hold it together.  You want to be supportive, but not clingy.  Some schools even host "BooHoo/Yahoo Breakfasts," a supportive place where parents can go after dropping off their kiddos to either rejoice or lament over grocery store donuts and warm orange juice.  

So, to all the moms and dads that dropped off their pride and joy at those classroom doors for the first time, and then went home and ugly cried, here's what your child's kindergarten teacher is probably too exhausted to tell you, but would like you to know:

If on that first day of school your child cried a little, or even if they screamed, clung to you and had to be physically peeled away by the teacher, they were much better after you left, I promise.  They always are, and it gets easier as they become more familiar.  The unknown is scary for all of us, but it should feel good that you are their safe place.  That being said, they need to know from your actions that school is a safe place as well.  When you confidently and matter-of-factly drop them off with a kiss and a hug at the door into the capable hands of their teacher, you are communicating that they are taken care of and will be just fine.  They might need to borrow your confidence at first, and you may need to fake it a bit until you too are more confident letting go.  It’s a good practice for everyone involved.  Raising kids is about preparing them and then letting go one step at a time throughout their whole lives, so it’s important. 

When children are feeling a little anxious, you would be amazed at how much parents hovering around the classroom can exacerbate the problem.  When you do that as a parent, you are communicating to your child that they need you to be safe.  They may sense that you don’t quite trust them to be independent, or their teachers to take good care of them.  You’re also depriving them of an opportunity to learn how to deal with fear and anxiety in healthy ways.  All of us have fears, but we need to learn how to push through and not be paralyzed by them.  That’s how we grow in confidence, and for your little one it may be one of their first chances to feel some fear and do it anyway.  Isn’t that the kind of adults we want our children to be - the confident kind who aren’t afraid to take risks and see rewards, proud of themselves at the end of the day?  From a logistical standpoint, it is also very difficult to get 30 kindergarteners to get into a routine and started with the business of the day with 30 additional adult bodies hovering by the coat rack.  Kids thrive on routine and procedures, and I can guarantee they will settle into them quickly and comfortably if they are allowed to do so.

A Teacher's Afternoon

12:00 After getting Jack and his trash can of grossness hurried along to the nurse, I absentmindedly tell everyone to get ready for lunch. In my haste, I forget that a simple statement like, “Get ready for lunch,” means all 27 second graders will rush toward the single coat rack in the classroom and crowd into the 12 square feet of space to grab their lunches. I immediately regret not sending them up a few at a time. Oh well, at this point we’re already down from 35 to 30 minutes to eat, so we’re just going to roll with it. Despite Brian who realizes he forgot his lunch, and Dallas who can’t remember if he needs to get a hot lunch or if his mom is bringing him one, we eventually make it to the cafeteria, where I am relieved to drop them off. Lunch means a break for me to wolf down some food and breathe. I have 25 minutes left to microwave last night’s pasta leftovers in the break room while making a quick copy for math that afternoon. Making a copy reminds me of the parent request to have all of her child’s work at the front office to be picked up by lunch time. Yeah, that’s not happening. I quickly scan the break room for plastic cutlery for the birthday cake. There is none, so I rush back to my classroom to eat my soggy leftovers with the remaining ten minutes of lunch. My mouth is full when two moms walk in my classroom door. One is holding a sheet cake and the other is standing with her hands on her hips and confusion on her face about why her son’s work is not waiting for her to pick up in the office. With my mouth full of baked ziti, I have to explain to both of them why I cannot satisfy their last minute requests.

12:35 I meet the students on the playground to pick them up after lunch recess. They quickly get in a straighter line when they see me coming. I smile and congratulate myself on what a great job I have done to instill high expectations, until I get closer and three children come running up to tattle about three different recess offenses. Two other children at the front of the line are pushing and shoving over whose turn it is to be line leader. Another is hot, another is thirsty, and the twirler is spinning around with her lunch box extended, completely oblivious to the fact that it’s time to line up. While listening to the various grievances and directing my ballerina back into line, I do a quick head count and notice one is missing. I know Jack threw up and went home, but I’m still missing one. I start to ask, “Who’s miss . . .” and before I can even finish the question about 17 children yell back, “Braydon!”  Oh yeah. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I attempt crowd control. We eventually make it back inside with everyone accounted for.

12:40 Silent Reading— Hands down my favorite time of the day for obvious reasons.

1:00 Math starts out with a daily warm up of review activities on the interactive white board. This expensive piece of technology can be awesome, but is more frequently not working and a thorn in my side. Today is no exception since it is on the fritz, so the slide with the problems for students to do is not available. This is one of those many moments in a teacher’s day where winging it becomes necessary. No matter how prepared you are, things always come up and you need a Plan B at the ready, or you will have mutiny on your hands in a heartbeat. Although the exercises on the computer would have been much more exciting, with interactive coins to count change and a clock to manipulate and show times, I quickly write a few review problems on the regular old whiteboard. We move on.

2:00 It’s mercifully time for a Special Class!  These precious 35 minutes four times a week are my only prep periods, and are otherwise known as a time when teachers can at least use the bathroom while the students are in Art, Music, P.E., or Library. Today is P.E., so the changing into tennis shoes commences.

2:35 I pick up the kids from P.E., and we head back to the classroom for them to get their snacks. I grab a stack of papers to grade before we head outside for afternoon recess. I give one student a reminder before he heads off to play to keep his hands to himself, and refrain from tackling classmates this recess. I realize I forgot to grab a walkie talkie for the office to get a hold of us while we’re outside, so I ask Katie to go to the office and get one before the secretary has to come out and give us a grumpy face again when she tries to reach us and can’t. Just as I’ve finished grading the first paper on my stack, a student comes up in apparent agony. Like a wounded warrior being helped off the field of battle, he has a loyal companion on either side, practically holding him up. I would normally be concerned, but this is Kevin, a child with quite the flair for the dramatic.  So I thank his companions for their concern and delivering him safely, and ask him to sit down next to me. I see his knee is skinned, but he immediately bends it, so I am certain that nothing is broken and he will live. Recess triage and seeing through some false tears is another one of any teacher’s well-honed skills.

 2:50 We head inside for Social Studies where we continue to work on our neighborhood map project. Some students are already finished, so they’re creating a second map of an imaginary neighborhood they’ve designed. The perfectionists in the room are meticulously measuring everything to scale and drawing all their straight lines with a ruler or asking for another piece of paper because they’ve messed up again. The less than motivated cartographers in the group have scribbled a square for their house, a rectangle for the grocery store, and colored the rest of it green for the parks. My twirler is sharpening her colored pencil by whittling away at the lead with her scissors under her desk.

3:35 Pack up to go home. This takes at least 15 minutes, so I read a chapter from a book every day while kids are quietly packing up and joining me over at the carpet when they’re ready. It’s a great calm way to end the day. I love it, the kids love it, and we all remember why we love each other again. Most days I remember to also end the day with asking kids to tell me one thing they learned that day, but today I forget because we are interrupted three times in our peaceful reading of The Mouse and the Motorcycle. The first two times are the receptionist buzzing down through the intercom in my room to tell me kids are leaving early. The third time is an end of day announcement to the whole school reminding them about the annual Fall Carnival the next night. With that, I give up on reading and we line up to go home because, well, the carnival has been mentioned, and I have lost my audience . . .

*Also, A Teacher's Day Before 8:00am & A Teacher's Day Before Lunch*

**This is an excerpt from my book (Chapter 7: Clorox Wipes, A Typical Day, And Why Teachers Need a Summer Break.) Grab your copy of Candid Classroom on Amazon for more!**

***Tomorrow is the last day to enter the Candid Classroom Class Set Giveaway! Winner will be announced next week.***

photo credit: JL! via photopin cc

A Teacher's Day Before Lunch

8:00 We’ve all made it inside. The students are hanging up backpacks and putting their folders in the designated basket for me. I head over to my desk to enter morning attendance into the computer. I have a line on the floor made from colorful duct tape, which separates my desk area from the rest of the classroom. I call the designated area The Zone of Teacherness, and students know they may not touch things on my desk and shelves, or even cross the line unless they are invited to do so. They also know I am taking attendance and handling other administrative things right away, and they should go about their own business of starting the day unless they have an emergency. But, that doesn’t stop two of them from lining up and staring at me sheepishly from behind the duct tape line. I ask calmly, “Is this an emergency?” They both shake their heads no, so I wave goodbye and remind them to sit down and raise their hands if they need to tell me something. I assure them I will be with them in just a minute. This may seem harsh, but I learned the hard way that if you don’t have some sort of system like this in place, you will be bum-rushed by at least 15 children every morning who have urgent news for you. By urgent I mean they want to tell you their cat is going to the vet today, or their uncle is visiting from Minnesota, all of which are important to them and should be heard, but are not necessary for me to know right that instant.

8:10 While the students settle in and start their morning work on the board, I go through their folders to check homework and make sure there are no parent notes, permission slips, or book orders to deal with. In the meantime, I notice Braydon hacking ceaselessly into his morning work notebook. I send him to the nurse, not wanting other students (or myself) to catch the apparent plague he has brought with him. The nurse calls down to my room to ask if someone can bring his things down for him, because he has a fever of 102 and will be going home. Wonderful. Enter Clorox wipes for the first time that day in an attempt to disinfect everything Braydon’s touched in his short time in the classroom.

8:20 The remaining students and I go over the morning work and begin Reading Stations. I am proud and grinning to myself because at this point in the year, reading is a well-oiled machine. They are quietly working at their stations, for the most part, rotating to the next one with little disturbance, and I am really making progress with the group at my reading table until . . . the fire alarm goes off! My student who has autism screams and covers her ears until we are outside.  We line up on the far end of the playground, and I count students. I’m one short. How could that be?  I think back to attendance and everyone was here today. I count again. I’m still missing one, and feeling panicky until I finally ask the kids, “Who’s missing?” “Braydon,” one says. “He went home sick remember?”

Oh yeah. Phew.

9:15 We get settled back into the classroom after the fire drill. The distraction is a bit much for my twirler from earlier that morning who begins taking everything out of her crayon box and reorganizing it instead of doing her work. Other than her, mostly everyone goes back to work. We get through the rest of reading time successfully. I tell students to meet me at the carpet for writing, while I ask the teacher’s assistant (a classroom job for a student) to pass out whiteboards and markers for our mini lesson on adding suffixes to words. On the way to the carpet, I stop at my desk where I see a new email from a parent telling me they will be dropping off a cake for McKayla’s birthday after lunch. A whole cake, and she wants to know if I have forks and plates to serve it. Mercy. I scribble “cake” on a sticky note so I remember to stop in the break room to see if I can scrounge up some forks and plates later. I head over to the carpet to see kids with no whiteboards.  “Who’s my teacher’s assistant this week?  Why doesn’t anybody have whiteboards?”  “It’s Braydon, he went home sick, remember?”  Katie speaks up. “Oh yeah,” I remember again. “Katie can you pass them out for me then?”

10:30 It’s time for Writer’s Workshop. This truly is one of my favorite times of the day. It starts with a ten minute mini lesson on a specific skill or topic to pay attention to in their writing for the day, and then students work independently on pieces of writing while I confer individually with them. Classical music plays in the background, and it is truly peaceful until . . . Jack runs to the garbage can to vomit and just barely makes it. I am both revolted and grateful that he didn’t puke on his desk or anywhere near me, as I am a joiner. I have made it abundantly clear to my students: if they feel like they need to be sick, they do not come tell me about it or ask to go to the bathroom. I’ve drilled it into them to just go quickly to the nearest garbage can. If they come tell me, they might puke on me. I assure them I will figure it out when I see them at the trash can, and won’t need an explanation. Kids are also not great at planning ahead, so trying to rush to make it to the bathroom usually results in a pile of that sawdust stuff they sprinkle on puke in the middle of the hallway. Jack hadn’t interrupted once during the mini lesson, and stayed in his seat the entire workshop time, so I should have known something was wrong. On that appetizing note, it’s lunchtime, and time for more Clorox wipes to disinfect Jack’s desk.

*Also, A Teacher's Day Before 8:00am*

**This is an excerpt from my book (Chapter 7: Clorox Wipes, A Typical Day, And Why Teachers Need a Summer Break.) Grab your copy of Candid Classroom on Amazon for more!**

A Teacher's Day Before 8:00am

7:09 After hitting snooze too many times, I get ready, pack my lunch, and fill the biggest travel mug I own with precious coffee for the drive to work. I try to pretend it only takes 11 minutes to get to work, and I can be there by 7:20. I’m mentally kicking myself, because I know if I could manage to get up earlier and get to work early, I would feel less rushed and more prepared every morning. They told me I would become a morning person after a few years of teaching. They lied, and I’m not.

7:28 I actually get to work, and unload from the trunk my rolling suitcase of good intentions. It is filled with things I took home to catch up on and never did—papers I didn’t grade, and projects I didn’t prepare.

7:30 I juggle my coffee, suitcase, lunch, and purse while trying to unlock my classroom door. I immediately drop all my things right inside the door and turn my computer on to try to get ten minutes of work done before my colleagues start arriving and asking questions about the day.  When my computer is fired up, I see an email from our principal about a mandatory staff meeting after school. Yippee. I also read five emails from parents. Two of them are confused about last night’s math homework. One is concerned her daughter is being bullied on the playground, and wants me to make sure I’m watching at all times during recess.  Another is emailing to tell me her son won’t be in school for a week because his grandparents are in town. She wants me to get all work he will be missing to the office by lunch time that day so she can pick it up on her lunch break. The last one wants me to check the classroom, because her son hasn’t brought his lunch box home all week. He says he lost it. I glance over at the shelf above the coat rack, and sure enough, there is a Spiderman lunchbox abandoned in the corner. I’m sure there are new life forms growing in it by now.

7:40 After sifting through emails, I glance at the clock and realize I only have five minutes left to get outside to my post for supervising morning drop off. I must decide between going to the bathroom and getting morning work up on the board for the students. I had a doctor’s appointment the night before, so I had to jet right after school, and didn’t get it ready. I choose morning work, not wanting children waiting for me to get something ready, because that’s just asking for trouble. I know I can always open the door to my adjoining classroom, and ask the teacher next door to supervise for a second. I’ll run to the bathroom while my kids are working. I’m amazed at how many times a day I have to choose between meeting my own basic physical needs and job requirements.

7:45  I grab my coffee (now lukewarm, but still caffeinated) and head out to morning duty, where I attempt to keep traffic moving as I open sticky car doors, grinning and greeting students. No one else seems to be a morning person either, because my friendly smile is not returned, and I am actually jealous of one first grader’s Coach backpack as I help her out of her Escalade. My main job at this particular juncture is to keep cars flowing, to make sure no parent goes into road rage, and no student gets run over in the cluster crisis that is the morning traffic pattern. What a great way to start the day.

7:55 The morning bell rings signaling the kids to line up, and I head around the back of the school to greet my class. They are mostly lined up and ready to start the day, with the exception of a few. I notice one child crying because she forgot her library books. Another is wearing a parka, gloves, hat, and scarf. It’s November in Arizona, but after the brutal summer, I guess 67 degrees feels like winter. A third child is twirling around in oblivious circles, until I interrupt her, and she staggers off dizzy to join the line. I’m pretty sure she has forgotten to take her medication today.

**This is an excerpt from my book (Chapter 7: Clorox Wipes, A Typical Day, And Why Teachers Need a Summer Break.) Grab your copy of Candid Classroom on Amazon for more!**

photo credit: Mike Rohde via photopin cc

Teacher Tuesday: Candid Classroom Class Set Giveaway

 

Tuesday is all about teachers around here, and today I've got an exciting treat for all you teachers working so hard this back to school season! Candid Classroom: What Parents Want to Know & Teachers Want to Tell Them is real talk from a teacher perspective for parents about what really matters. It's a friendly conversation about the things we wish they knew and paints a true picture of the classroom, helping them to understand their children and schools better to partner with teachers.

I have heard from so many teachers that they wish they could give a copy of Candid Classroom to every single one of their students' parents. Well now you can!

To celebrate the release of Candid Classroom, I'm giving away a full class set of 30 copies to one very deserving teacher to share with his or her class parents. You can enter to win multiple ways between now and next Friday. Here's how...

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thankful Thursday - Candid Classroom Edition

Candid Classroom released Monday. These past few weeks have been crazy, and launching a book is no easy task. It's been exhausting, emotional, and tested every last ounce of perserverence I've had. But overall today I just feel thankful. Thankful to be given the opportunity and support to make this dream a reality, and for the excitement and enthusiasm about the book.

Thank you for buying the book, leaving a review on Amazon, sharing it with your social circles both online and off. I have cherished every text message, tweet, instagram, or comment of encouragment this week and am honored that you would take the time to read my words. So, just thank you!

Chatting About Candid Classroom

 

Today I am honored to be the guest on The Sarah R. Bagley Podcast! I've been listening to Sarah's podcast since I really started getting into them, and thoroughly enjoy her show each week. I'm chatting with Sarah all about Candid Classroom, the writing process, adoption, and overcoming perfectionism to accomplish big goals. I'd love for you to listen in!