I liked the kids. I think that in all my teaching days there was never a kid I disliked no matter how he or she behaved, as I got to know each and every one of them quite well.
It was the same procedure with my seventh grade class. It isn’t difficult to tell the difference between sixth and seventh graders. Sixth graders appear less mature and developed. A lot of physical growth happens over the summer so that seventh graders are usually taller. They gain more confidence and have a more developed sense of humor (sometimes to the point of being mouthy).
Seventh graders ask all sorts of questions. I had to tell them to wait until I was finished reading through the rules before I would take questions. They asked good questions, mostly about tests and quizzes and my grading policy which was not specifically mentioned on the handout.
Once they left, I could finally go to the rest room. During my teaching experience, I became an expert at holding my bladder for long periods of time. While some people might brag about awards or commendations, I boasted about how many hours I could go without a bathroom break.
I was glad it was lunchtime. I was starving! I barely had anything to eat before school started. I didn’t want to go to lunch alone, so I walked across the hall to ask Mrs. A if she was going. I found her sitting at her desk with an unwrapped sandwich placed neatly in front of her. She was chewing a bite when I walked in.
“Are you going to lunch?” I asked her anyway.
“I meat in my massroom,” she said with a mouthful. She didn’t even swallow before she answered me.
I guess I won’t be eating lunch with her this year. I don’t know anybody else I’d want to eat with. What am I going to do?
I had packed my lunch since I was unsure where the cafeteria was, what food was available, and if there was enough time to buy lunch.
So I begrudgingly walked back up the steps, down the long corridor, and into the faculty room on the corner. I stopped and took a look around. It was a cramped little room with round tables. There were a handful of teachers in the room, but none of the middle school teachers. Nobody invited me to sit at their table. I took a deep breath and sat by myself. I could hear the chatter of the other teachers but their talk was about the younger students. Except for the foreign language teacher who asked how my first day was going, nobody spoke to me. I was a little puzzled, as I thought more people would have asked or at least said hello.
I went directly back to my classroom after lunch and used my planning period to straighten up, review my seating charts and students’ names, write notes on my lessons from today and prepare for tomorrow. Forty five minutes goes by fast.
I had met a few of my eighth grade students before the school year started, since they had visited during teacher preparation week.
I was out in the hallway hanging a sign on my door when I noticed a group of kids closer to the lobby greeting teachers. I could hear exclamations from the teachers, and I saw them go out in the hallway and hug the students.
What well-liked students. Or it’s just such a small school that everyone is very familiar with each other.
These students were slowly making their way down the hallway. I knew it was only a matter of time before they visited my classroom.
Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later there were four adolescents invading my room. They didn’t wait for an invitation but seated themselves on the back ledge by the windows.
Look how comfortable they are. They seem very familiar with the school.
From across the room they told me their names and asked mine and what I was doing.
I stopped the paperwork at my desk and walked over to answer their questions.
“Are you our new teacher?” one of them asked.
“I was waiting for you to ask me that,” I replied, smiling. “Indeed, I am.”
They pointed out the two that would be in my class and told me whose classes they had last year. They were talkative and full of youthful enthusiasm, telling me what they did over summer vacation and what high school they wanted to go to. I was impressed that they made this effort to meet me.
It was the first day of school and here they were as formal students. It was 1:30 PM and time for my last class. Even though I knew ahead of time this was a much smaller class with only twelve kids, the reality hit me when they were all seated and most of the seats were empty. I thought that having a small group would be a real pleasure and a relaxing ending to the day, but I was wrong. It wasn’t going to be so easy. A number of these kids were full of personality and energy and would prove to be more challenging.
It didn’t take them long to start asking me questions.
“How old are you? Where did you go to college? Are you married? Do you have any children? Do you have a boyfriend? Have you ever taught before? Is your hair naturally curly?”
It’s a good thing I’m not a beginner teacher.
Among these vibrant personalities were a few students so quiet that I wondered if they could speak. I would attempt to “draw them out” throughout the school year. The other students more than made up for their silence.
Unlike my other classes, I let these students choose seats the first day. This was a fatal mistake. After Day One, it became difficult to get the talkers to be quiet. I moved them around and put them in every other seat to create some distance between them.
Since this class was small, we could move through material more quickly. After we completed the administrative minutia, we started an actual lesson.
Wow. I’ll have to remember to plan a lot more for this class. This is exciting that we actually get to do some real work today!
Their first assignment was to write a brief autobiography which would serve not only as a way for me to learn about them but also as a diagnostic tool to assess their current level of writing. This composition assignment would take several days to complete. We started with an interest inventory that I had pulled from my stored teaching materials. (An interest inventory is a questionnaire about likes and dislikes). Then students wrote a first draft. I always completed my assignments along with the students and often shared my writing. That was the case with this assignment as well.
Being outspoken students in an open atmosphere I tried to foster, the students freely made suggestions. One student, Greg, suggested they read each other’s completed papers and guess who’s who.
What a great idea! These kids are going to keep me on my toes! It’s not often that a student has a good suggestion for how to do a lesson!
I used his suggestion, and the students enjoyed it. I also learned miscellaneous information, such as Greg had a sister in the fifth grade; Peter had a twin brother in Mrs. A’s class, his younger sister was in my seventh grade class and his older siblings had all attended this school; and Talia’s mother teaches at this school in a lower grade.
Showing their inquisitive nature, they asked to hear my autobiography, so I shared. I started with my name. Then I read, “I was named after my grandfather, David. Therefore, my Hebrew name (I am Jewish) is the female version of the name David.” I said where I went to college and my previous work experience. I read, “I welcome all my students this year and look forward to a fabulous school year where my students and I will accomplish many goals and enjoy the learning experiences we will share together.” I looked up at the kids.
“You’re Jewish?!” Colin asked without raising his hand. Most of the students looked astounded.
“Yes, I am,” I answered. “Please raise your hand next time.”
“Are you allowed to teach here?” Mary Ann asked without raising her hand. How quickly my rules, regulations and policies seemed to fly out the window.
“Yes,” I answered. “Please raise your hand in class.”
“How is it that you are allowed to teach here?” Douglas asked, raising his hand as he asked the question.