Friday, April 2, 2021

Worms on the Blacktop, 2.0

    


    Five years ago, I wrote blogpost called Worms on The Blacktop. It contained some details about the struggle I was feeling during my first year in the school system, assisting at a local elementary school. I have not gone back and reread it, but I do remember the feelings I had after a magical recess filled with stranded worms; the sense of remembering who I was amidst the soul-sucking beast of the school system, as I rescued the worms with my students.

    Much has changed in 5 years; I am now a 'real teacher' at a different elementary school and have spent the past half-decade working my way through the unforeseen difficulties and intense rewards of teaching. Unfortunately, the difficulties can be very hard to weather. The teaching profession is fraught with challenges that send many people running far, far away. I've stubbornly held on, always hoping that the magical moments will override the hard days.

    Yesterday during recess, I had a beautiful reprisal, a sequel of worm magic, that refilled my waning passion.

    I've been reeling from yet another blow to my core. I am trying to process the utter failure of most of my class on Indiana’s high-stakes 3rd Grade reading test. I didn’t expect to care so much about it, but I do. I am bitter and angry and formulating backup plans, an escape route from this career, or at the very least, from this particular position. It’s becoming clear that the things I value in my classroom; connections, love, deep questions, more love, a little fun thrown in, and at times, some hard lessons and hard feelings, are not what is valued by ‘the man’. Whoever the hell that is. On paper, according to the scores provided by standardized tests, I am not a very good teacher. A mediocre teacher at best, bordering on downright shitty.

 

    With all of this brewing just below the surface, the worms came out. It’s like the universe knew that I needed twenty minutes of magic to remind me of who I am, and what is important deep in my soul.

 

    The morning had gone incredibly smoothly, despite my exhaustion (I’d learned of my dismal test scores the day before and had spent most of the night crying, then showed up to school to find that I wouldn’t be getting a break all day because the art teacher was gone and of course we NEVER have subs—that is a whole other story).

    I led my kids to the playground after a surprisingly amazing math lesson. I was relieved that the rainstorms that had showered down all night long had paused to give us a chance to get fresh air. I needed my kids to be able to run around and burn off energy if we were to get through the day. It was colder than I’d expected, and I regretted my decision to not put on my jacket. As I braced against the bite of the wind, I suddenly heard one of my littles scream “worms!!! Look!!!” I went running. Four or five students had noticed the many stranded worms, and one had started to pick them up. “Run them to the grass. Save them!” I directed, and was immediately reminded of those moments from five years before. More kids joined, and I quickly realized that these kids knew more much about worms than the kids from 5 years prior.

    Five years ago, there were mostly screams of ‘gross!’ and ‘I hate worms!’, but this felt so different. Many of my kids have some solid knowledge about the world around them. One of my boys explained that worms are important, and that they are a key part of our ecosystem. “I know they are an important part of our ecosystem, but I am still afraid to touch them.” I took a good look into his eyes and smiled (how wonderful it is to go outside and take off our masks, so that we can see each other’s full faces). This is a child who failed the almighty IREAD: a one-time, high stakes test. Yet he always tells me the most amazing facts and has a zest for life and learning. It didn’t take much for me to convince him it was okay to pick up a worm, and then he happily rescued several, his eyes alight. How many standardized tests will he have to fail before he stops believing he is smart?

 

    I tried to push away all the negative thoughts about how those tests will NEVER show who these kids are. Instead I fell deeply into the experience of running around, finding more and more worms who would probably die if we didn’t move them. The job was important to me and to my kids. We found plenty of worms that had—based on their appearance—already died, but for good measure we even relocated some of those, ‘just in case’.

 

    My fingers grew so cold that I lost feeling, my hair blew into my eyes, I squealed and jumped and worm-rescued my heart out, just like my students. Half of my class had joined at this point, and several were busy digging little holes in which to place the worms. One of my most difficult students, whose personal story has so many tragedies I have to hold back tears when looking at her sometimes, filled her hands up with so many worms I had to giggle. Her eyes glowed with a warm kindness that I’ve seen in her time and again, during the precious few moments she is not having a meltdown. Daily she rages with an anger she can’t name, and I don’t ever blame her. This child survives, but nothing in her life puts a standardized test on the priority list; not her parents, not her upbringing, not her emotions. This child, you guessed it, failed the almighty IREAD. How many so-called ‘failures’ will she face before her eyes lose that spark? I can only hope that her spirit surpasses the stories that these meaningless scores tell her.

 

    I can only hope that MY spirit surpasses those wicked stories; but, for the survival of my own heart, I’ve always got a nebulous backup plan tucked away, which I will act on more aggressively if I can no longer stand the implications that I am not a good enough teacher.

 

    Did my students fail, or did I fail them? From the perspective of the system, it hardly matters, but the answer is plain. I didn’t produce the numbers expected, despite my best efforts, despite endless practice and teaching and quite honestly, a sense of confidence on my part that they’d all actually do really well on this test. The blame is not placed on any other part of their lives; not their parents, not their tragedies, not the society around them; at least not officially. The official blame goes directly to the school system, who then blames me, their teacher, for making them look bad. I am expected to squeeze blood from a stone.

 

    A very important piece of self-preservation, right now, is to remember who I am and that no matter what, this job does not define me. I can leave it. It would hurt, because I love my students beyond reason. Every year, I watch a class grow, change and amaze me, and I always hope that I imprint something important into their hearts to take along on their journey. However, the system is bigger than me and definitely holds the power to run me off.


    The worms on the blacktop provided twenty minutes of magical and profound moments that will live in my heart forever, that allowed me to climb out of my current sense of humiliation and anger. I watched the kids make connections, help each other, feel love for nature, and ask each other important questions. I felt so much love and pride in these kids. No matter what the numbers say, the system will never know my SMART, amazing students, and for that I pity the system.


Saturday, January 26, 2019

Banana Bread Bites



My blog has definitely been nudged to the side ever since I started teaching. When I owned a daycare in my house, the garden and blog were an integral part of my daily life. Now, halfway through my third year of teaching public school, the garden has become a refuge I seek--sometimes desperately--and my blog is an oft-forgotten haven that I revisit only occasionally.

When my sister-in-law texted me last week wondering

Sunday, May 13, 2018

5 Reasons Why Your Tiny Plot Matters



It happened again last weekend when my husband and I were about to enjoy a date night; I felt a moment of shame for the tiny plot I tend.

Thursday, November 23, 2017

A Day of Thanks

What a glorious day. Thanksgiving! Four long days stretch ahead of me of not having to follow the alarm, sleeping in, and not having to report to work.

Saturday, November 5, 2016

From Organic Snob... to Pizza Rolls

How did this happen?

I admit, for a few years I started to become a bit snobbish. Organic. Whole foods. From-scratch snacks and meals, almost always. Prepackaged industrial food became a dirty word in our house, and I rarely

Saturday, September 17, 2016

One of These Years

One of these years I will learn balance. I'll have a garden and a life at the same time. I'll harvest the veggies that grew all summer and actually eat them, instead of letting them rot on the plants and vines.

This is not that year.

A year ago I lamented about my lack of time, as I transitioned into a new life. I'd worked at home for many years, and had access to my garden at all times, so entering the workforce and being away all day put me into a kind of shocked depression that lasted for months. I was an assistant at an elementary school, and I only worked 25 hours a week, but the culture shock--leaving my jeans-and-t-shirt, messy long-haired, bread-baking, preschool lesson-planning, garden addicted life--made me feel like I was working much longer, much harder hours. In hindsight, I had it easy. Isn't that how hindsight always works?

I fear I complained too much about my life, and I hope that those who read my words didn't scorn them, or think I created needless drama. It truly was a life-altering experience for me, since I had begun to let myself dream of a homestead kind of life, full of self-sufficiency. I thought that I was on a path of natural eating, less reliance on factory food, and a healthier mindset mentally, emotionally, and physically. I even had wild dreams of moving far from the city and getting rid of my TV and phone, obtaining chickens and goats, and leaving 'mainstream life' behind. Not going off the grid or turning into some kind of hippie. Just becoming more connected. Being closer to nature and the way my grandparents lived.

Because I had that persistent daydream, realizing that I was taking a complete 180 was a little shattering for my spirit.

And if I thought I worked hard and had no time when I worked as an assistant, I had NO IDEA what was in store for me when I interviewed for and got that longed-for teaching position.

About 2 months ago, I was hired to teach third grade. My own classroom! A dream come true! It's at a different school than where I assisted, and I'd already interviewed for and was turned down for a position somewhere else prior to being hired. I am so aware of my good fortune--the position I landed had received 40 applications. This so-called teacher shortage isn't something I've seen first hand, and there is still plenty of competition for these precious teaching jobs.

I won't go into the extreme drama of my first 2 weeks--in which I nearly quit from the pressure--but I will say that my shock from the previous year didn't even hold a candle to the absolute terror and desolation I felt when I was finally in my teaching job and panicked. I thought, I cannot do this. I just can't. I will ruin these kids. What was I thinking?

Two weeks of absolute hell dragged by. I didn't eat or sleep. I only showed up at work and fumbled my way through, smiling all the time so that no one knew my panic. Every day melted into the next. I lost 10 pounds in those two weeks. My kids...oh my gosh, I don't even know how they got to where they needed or received the things they needed. My husband went out of town for work right as I started my job, so that was an added stress. Luckily, my oldest son took mostly took over (he's nearly 18), my parents took the boys often, other people brought us food, and we all survived. Most people would have handled it all like a normal, well-adjusted adult--it's just a A JOB for crying out loud!!! But, I'm not a normal well-adjusted adult.

It's probably needless to say--I forgot I even had a garden.

Today I finally went outside, after a good rain, to see what damage it had sustained. It's not so bad. It looks wild and lush from all the rain. Little surprises peeked out from here and there. A lot of food went to waste, but not all of it.

One of these years my garden will be a part of me just like my new life, my new career. The panic of starting a teaching job has subsided, and I am now determined that I'm truly on the right path. We rely on factory food. We don't focus on fresh foods and healthy eating like we used to. That doesn't mean we never will. It just means I'm still transitioning into a life I know I'm meant to live, even if all the components haven't matched up yet. Not all the gears are connected and turning, but one day they will be. I will focus on surviving my first year of teaching---which I repeat, is a dream come true even if right now I feel like I'm suspended in some kind of chaotic whirlwind, not even sure of what I'm doing at all--and I will make a promise once again to my garden: Next year. Next year I'll tend you even when school starts. We'll be a great team one of these years...but not this year.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Forager's Find: Lamb's Quarters


It's time for you to discover lamb's quarters! 

A common 'weed' that is also known as goosefoot, fat hen, and smooth pigweed, lamb's quarters is a plant you may have overlooked. Tasty and abundant, and common nearly everywhere human beings live, it is the perfect forager's find. The leaves taste incredibly similar to spinach, and the raw stems taste like asparagus.

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Worms on The Blacktop



"Attention staff and students: pardon the interruption. We will be having outdoor recess today. Students, please stay on the blacktop only."

Saturday, January 9, 2016

The Merging of Dreams: Beware the Tears


Caution: I analyze everything to death. Nothing is simple. I abhor change, though in time I usually accept it. Things that would be mere hiccups to most people--like a job change--disrupt my entire life and make me question the reason for my very existence. You've been warned. Read on if you've ever felt overwhelmed by change in your life--my reluctance and fears about change may make you feel like a superstar in comparison!





So Life Changed a Little Bit Around Here


I usually don't digress on this blog, or at least,

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

The Seeds We Saved in 2015

Each year I try to learn a little bit more about seed saving. It appeals to the practical (aka cheap) side of me (those seed packets really add up!) and to the inquisitive side of me (you mean, that's how a plant makes seed?).