Tag: teach

9/11: It Started Like Any Ordinary Day

Posted on September 11, 2011 by Jennifer Wolfe

9/11: It started like any ordinary day.

After maternity leave, I’m still getting the hang of getting out of the house on time each morning. I’m up early enough to have some ‘me’ time – 5:30 a.m. – before the pitter patter of my 23-month-old boy’s feet signal the start of mommy-time. Must plan Cameron’s birthday party for next weekend, I think. Coffee made, candles lit, I start up the desktop as part of my morning ritual, eager to check email and read the news. Having children broke us of our TV news habit when we realized they were transfixed with images of stark reality we were trying so desperately to shelter them from.

A breaking news alert flashes into my inbox – “Plane crashes into building in New York.” Hmm. I’ve never been to New York. Worlds away from my cozy study. I hope it’s nothing serious.

Pitter patter pitter patter…here comes my boy, blankie, and book in hand. My heart thrills at the sight of his big round head. “Make sister juice,” he chimes with a smile as big as any Cheshire cat. I switch off the computer, eager to start the morning snuggle and reading time. It is just another ordinary day.

The 11-mile commute to school is nothing unusual. I drive past the harvested tomato fields, crop dusters skim the highway. Lesson plans fill my mind. Exit right, then left, then straight down the walnut tree-shrouded road towards Douglass Junior High, where my 7th grade English students stand lined up, waiting for me.

“Hey, did you hear about the plane crash?” they shout as I open the door.

“Yes, I did,” I answer, and switch on the lights. “Let’s get started.”

“But, can’t we watch the TV? I have an aunt that lives in New York, and I’m worried,” a child pleads.

“TV? When do we ever watch TV in class?” I respond with a smile. ‘Let’s get started – it’s grammar day everyone’s favorite!”

Moments later, an announcement is delivered by a TA telling us the grim news. Not one plane crash, now it’s two. What??? The Pentagon? Three planes? Buildings collapsed? People dying? But it’s just an ordinary day!

Why don’t I have my cell phone? This ancient classroom has no Internet; the only technology is the old TV mounted in the corner of the classroom. Where are my babies? Did Lily make it to kindergarten? What the hell is going on? I want to go home…

Thoughts flash through my head as I try to process what to do. Thirty sets of eyes stare at me, searching for comfort. I’m the teacher. I’m in charge. I know what to do? Frantic thoughts of my own children race through my mind. Are they OK? What will happen to us? Are the terrorists on their way?

Then I realize-someone is taking care of my children, just as I’m taking care of someone else’s. I know what to do. They need me to make sense of it. That’s what I would want my child’s teacher to do. Reluctantly, yet desperately, I turn on the TV. I have to know. I can’t wait all day.

After two hours, no word from my family, I switch it off. Business as usual – that’s what educators do. Keep them calm, keep them busy. I know it’s only going to get worse, and it’s only 10 a.m.

Two more hours and I’m done. As I jump in my little gold Escort wagon, I’ve never been so relieved to only work part-time; 11 miles fly by-not enough time to decide how to explain the unexplainable to my 5-year-old. The radio news drones on and on. Thousands dead. The children. The mommies and daddies who will never commute home again. The parents who will never see their babies again. The young people who will never have the joy of holding their child in their arms. It’s more than I can bear. The tears stream down my face as I safely reach home. It’s clearly not just an ordinary day.

‘Mommy, why are you sad? What happened at school today?” Lily whispers, her big blue eyes boring into mine. How do I answer? She’s only five. Far too young to have to learn about such horrors. I tell her a story about a plane crashing and good guys trying to stop the bad guys. “Did the bad guy go to jail?” she questions.

“No, he died,” I reply, choking back tears at her innocence.

“I’m sorry he died, Mommy. But I’m glad that we weren’t on that plane.”

“Me too, baby. Me, too.” I realize it may never be an ordinary day again.

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

Middle School: Where Everybody Belongs

Posted on August 28, 2011 by Jennifer Wolfe

It’s the first day of kindergarten…parents lined up at the door, new backpacks grace the backs of eager (and some not so eager) young students dressed in their new school clothes. Mom and dad hover, some concerned, some triumphant-all documenting the day with flashes from cameras and smart phones.

Flash forward seven years-it’s middle school. Yikes! No more hovering-at least not where the kids can see you! New backpacks-maybe, if they’re cool. Dressing down instead of dressing up. Photos? No way-those had to be done at home,
out of sight of the friends.

I’ve spent the last week working with my 8th and 9th grade leadership students getting ready to welcome every 7th grader to our school. It’s a beautiful thing, really. Believe it or not, those 7th graders are pretty nervous-they just don’t want anyone to know it.

At Emerson Junior High, we take two days of summer vacation to train students how to mentor the incoming 7th grade students using the WEB program. Through team building, get to know you activities, and tons of leadership skills, we build a program to make every kid feel like they belong at our school.

The day before school starts, we run a four hour orientation that starts as 265 students in the gym, breaks down to small groups, and ends up with the WEB leaders and 10 7th grade ‘webbies’ in classrooms getting to know each other and helping the new kids feel more connected to their new school. And NO PARENTS are allowed!

WEB has been a fantastic program for our school-we’ve seen discipline issues reduce and connectivitiy increase. Our school climate thrives with the ‘students helping students succeed’ approach…and despite all the hard work and energy it takes right before we start our ‘real’ teaching jobs, we get a trememdous satisfaction watching the magic happen.

One of the most important things the WEB leaders share with their 7th graders are ‘Words of Wisdom’ about how to survive and thrive in middle school. They are brutally honest-I guess it comes with their own ‘trial and error’!

Those middle school days can be a real test of our parenting skills – so much to learn, and no handbook to go by! So, if you’re a parent, a teacher or a middle schooler, take a look at the Emerson Jr. High Words of Wisdom-you might just learn something!

Be on time and pay attention and LISTEN in class. Don’t procrastinate!

Use your planner. Get things done as soon as possible. Stay organized!

Make a good first impression with your teachers and new friends.

Understand and follow the rules. Don’t share your locker combo.

Stay healthy. Get plenty of sleep and eat breakfast. Bring a snack and lunch, too!

Follow the dress code. Get to class on time!

Try not to get stressed out. Ask teachers or counselors for help in classes if you need it.

Participate in class and other fun stuff at school. Make an effort!

Don’t feel shy – include new people in your group of friends.

Words of Wisdom for us all, don’t you think?

Jennifer Wolfe

Speak Softly: How To Coach So People Will Listen

Posted on July 6, 2011 by Jennifer Wolfe

Scenario: Hot July night in Davis, CA. Little League Fields are full of spectators smiling and sweating through the sweltering 100 degree plus heat amidst umbrellas, ice chests, and the search for shade. Hundreds of people were gathered to watch our local children battle it out in the District 64 all star games.

I do love Davis Little League baseball. Starting with T-ball, our sons and daughters learn to run, bat, throw, catch, and play hard. As they move through Farm, AA, AAA, and into Majors, games turn from endless marathons of good natured cheers and encouragement to intense moments of strategy, skill and endurance. But tonight’s game got me thinking about HOW we teach them to play the game.

My son has had dozens of amazing Davis Little League coaches. As a teacher, I am always amazed at and profoundly grateful for the contribution they make to the program-my son wouldn’t be the player he is without their dedication. I’ve watched them coach through rain, wind, cold, and heat with smiles on their faces and a constant positive attitude. They teach, supervise, and prepare their players to do their best and never give up-excellent life lessons. But tonight I watched a different kind of coaching-this came from a visiting coach from a neighboring town during the all star games.

This visiting coach used the ‘bark and drill’ approach. He was loud, and barked as if he were conducting a symphony of soldiers on the field. I tried to listen to what he was saying, and I have to admit that most of what spewed out of his mouth was ‘positive’- but the kind of encouragement that I would expect from someone training kids to win at all costs. The strategy he used didn’t seem to involve his head or his heart-it was intimidating, loud, and abrasive. Because I was sitting merely 10 feet away from his ranting, I couldn’t help but wonder how the players on the field (namely the third baseman) could keep their focus. He yelled, but did anybody hear him?

Baseball is a game of concentration and observation. Players need to plan ahead, think it through, and know what they will do if and when the ball arrives in their space. This ‘coach’ was taking all individual thought away from his players in favor of overwhelming them with his plan. Is this what we really want our kids to learn about playing a sport? Are these the life lessons our kids should learn?

What I’ve learned is that the best way to get people to listen to you is to let them hear you whisper. Trying to “lift up” versus “shout down” has always served me best-both in and out of the classroom. What I’m still learning is how to deal with these yell leaders-if you have any ideas, please let me know. And please, thank those coaches in your life who teach by example, and know how to really communicate what’s important.

9/11: It started like any ordinary day.

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Jennifer Wolfe

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