Why am I humming my favorite "Grease" song right now?

Really, though, I'm looking for input. I spent the last week scheduling out the remainder of summer break, deciding when I need to have WHAT done WHEN as I prepare for the 2011-2012 school year ... when I'll be teaching my kids again in a new grade. You might think I don't have to really focus on the "classroom procedures" and "rules" and etc things ... but just the opposite. I'm not getting the fresh start I expected, so I'm navigating a summer full of intense, steady plans.

I'm starting with class rules. First rule of class rules: Make one of those rules "Follow directions the first time they are given." The second rule of class rules: Don't have more than five rules.

Only 5 rules? Sounds like an easy task, right? Wrong. These rules are going to be 1/3 of my powerful triad to keep my kids under control.

So I need your help. After research and observation (as well as my own year's woes) I have drafted the following as my class rules.
 (Let me preface by saying last year my rules were too "perfect world" and not explicit enough. I had "only nice words and actions" and "respect the teacher" ... while I know I need these, I know what else I need ....

-Stay in your seat.
-Raise your hand to be called on to speak.
-Keep hands, feet, and objects to yourself.
-Be respectful and work hard.
-Follow all directions the first time.

Ideas? Thoughts? Feedback? Suggestions?

I am really asking for what you think. Because respect needs to be a focus, being nice needs to be a focus, paying attention needs to be a focus. But I know my kids - I have to have the seat and silent thing in there. And I don't mind saying "Stay in your seat at all times" and "No talking" if I get some help.

Thanks to my lovely readers and helpers!

When I found out I would be looping with my kids, everyone asked me how I felt about it. Was I upset, frustrated, terrified, bewildered ... or on the other end, wasn't this a great thing for the kids?
I chose the positives-only approach. I thought of all the ways and reasons in which this would be great for me and my kids. One of my initiatives was summer tutoring, a way to keep their learning going, offer remediation, and keep the relationships we'd created alive. The plan was to meet in the library half a mile down the street from the school and tutor in reading and math.
Today was the first day of that tutoring, and though 80% of my kids' parents said they were interested and 10 RSVP'd, I had one student attend - the one I offered to pick up on the way.
While I want to be upset and disappointed and frustrated, I have to think how lucky it is that I had two hours alone to tutor one of my students in her reading and math. It really was a lot of fun and a great opportunity. I gave her a printable story and a writing journal, pages with assignments and story starters scattered throughout.
But then dropping her off was the hard part. I passed several of my kids walking along the streets and a parent who didn't really want to see me.
I forget easily what happens when my kids do not have school, not just school itself but the haven that I truly know it is for them. What I see when they are outside is all anyone needs to see to understand the achievement gap.
So now, I'm determined: at least 1 more for tutoring next week.

It's now a few weeks into the summer, and I can truly say that I miss my kids. The days go by very differently when you are not surrounded my hundreds of children calling you "Ms. Davis" and depending on you all day. Now my days are spent in a silent office sitting in a chair and working on the computer - quite a dichotomy, huh?

At the end of the year I had my, appropriately titled, "End of the Year Reflection" with my PD. During this time we look back at my vision for my class and assess what goals we reached or did not reach, what gains we made, my strengths and weaknesses, and what I can do to make changes for next year. Until now, I haven't really had the distance I needed to think ahead.

So, how did the 206 WHOs do? Our goals were clear: 80% mastery in communication arts and math standards (though I had a 2-year increase reading goal, I did not access the tools needed to secure that data). While we did not reach 80% (sad I know), we did reach about 78%., which was well beyond what I would have thought on Day 1. It was exciting to look back and see the weekly data approaching the goals as averages doubled and attendance skyrocketed. Looking at the data with a critical eye, I am very pleased (and I know I needed the reinforcement).

Seeing how far your kids have come as a teacher is much like seeing how much your children have grown as a parent. You don't see the changes because they are so gradual, but when an outsider who isn't around everyday comes along, they say "Boy, he'she has grown since the last time I saw them!" It's just like that. I didn't see how significant the changes were until I took the opportunity to step back. "Wow" is really the only word I have for it.

By the end of our reflection meeting, it was decided that I made solid gains with my class (that's a good thing). Deep down, though, I know I didn't do for my kids what I wanted to do, should have done.. Did I bring them up? Yes. But, well, you should after being with them every day for a year. It wasn't enough.

And now I look ahead to next year and the many, many changes that will be taking place in my classroom - except, for of course, the students. The procedures, the rules, the consequences, the rewards - so many changes.

Because I got into the habit of only posting every few weeks or after the high highs and low lows, I have realized I need to make this post daily. That way you guys can know what is going on, and I can help keep myself re-assessing my strategies and recognizing the changes taking place.

I want every one who follows this to know how much it truly means. Every time someone tells me they've checked in, I am truly touched. Not only does it mean something to know that I am in your hearts and thoughts and not alone here, but it means even more to know that you are engaging in a conversation that is utterly essential to the closing of this achievement gap.

So again, I will write more, I will say more, and I hope you will read and write back.

Before I get into my big reflection of my first year of teaching, I want to play catchup. There are many posts I meant (and even tried) to post since the last, and I want to recap before I really get a chance to think about how I feel after my first year of teaching. After all, I still have one more day.

A lot of things have happened, in a way, this last month. One of which is the Big Bang: the news that I will be looping with my kids next year. For the nonteachers, that means I will be teaching my students again next year in their next grade. What this really means: a whole new curriculum to learn, and (what should be) a not-whole new group of students. In reality, it probably means learning a whole new curriculum and keeping a few of my students. Why? In these areas, the people don't have the opportunity to settle for very long. But that's a whole other topic.

So in the midst of wrapping up, finalizing grades and observations, cleaning up and tying up the loose ends of red tape, I have also been in a steady contemplation mode about looping. What I've decided: only silver linings. I will be the lead teacher of the third grade at Walbridge. I could stress about why this will or will not work, how difficult it will be, what may or may not pan out ... or I could think about what I can do with this. I can keep my kids learning over the summer. I can work on my existing relationships with parents and bring more connection. I can deepen relationships with my students, especially those who desperately need consistency and an adult on whom they can depend. I can deepen my understanding of what my students will need to learn and go off of what they've taught me already.

It's about, after all, what we can do that really matters. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

In other news, I had my first "sad in a way the year is over because I love my kids" cry the other day. But it was a happy cry. I found out that my little girl who has been hurt and abused and found a new home, will be staying in that home for a while and moving, likewise, to a school in the country closer to this new home. She will be in a better environment for her, with a family that is embracing her. And I'm going to miss her desperately. When she told me, I cried tears of love and happiness - this is the biggest blessing I've found all year. I truly thank God for this miracle that I get to witness. Her new mom's only concern: "She just loves you so much. You're the first person she told me about when I met her, you're the main person she draws and writes about, and she thinks the world of you. You're the only one I don't want to take her from. Would you mind keeping in touch?"

Would I mind ... Would I mind?? I jumped on it - let's be pen pals, I can tutor her, I can be a mentor, we can be buddies and I can visit ... anything I can do to be a part of this girl's life. I love this girl even more, I promised.

The funny thing? This same little girl HATED me. She wrote "F---- Ms. Davis" all over the school walls in blue marker in September. She stole money, candy, materials from me. She cursed at me, ran from me (LITERALLY) and tried to have me fired during a tantrum once (which she admitted to). And now? She's easily the strongest relationship of any of my students.

One of the other strong relationships, one that has seem incredible growth and trust - that wonderful little one was picked up early two weeks ago and hasn't come back. I'm sure she will not be back next year either, and I have to take a deep breath not to cry on that one. No goodbye hugs, no "see you, Ms. Davis" - nothing. Not her fault, of course, but it's a terrible heartbreak.

The next strongest was suspended two weeks ago, but I'll get him in the fall. He's a success story in many ways because our hard work has found him the care he really needs. And I pray we can find more for him in the coming year.

I guess this is turning into Part I of "The Reflection", but it's hard to stop once the faces start pouring in. Especially her face. I haven't been sleeping well thinking about her, and how much she should be here with us, celebrating the end of second grade, a grade in which she truly just shined and made tremendous growth.

Mia, she would love this. I can see her smile now, see her holding her diploma and treat bag, thanking every one for applauding her as she took her things. I can see her saying she is proud to be a 206 WHO and, "I've been trying my best Ms. Davis. Do you think I'm doing okay?" This week has really put her face on my mind, wishing her dad, when he watches our class from time to time, could watch her back in her seat. Her soul fills that classroom. It's impossible to not feel it. She's everywhere, and she's in all of their faces. Now that it's slowing down, the pain of our loss is resonating so strongly. I know that in heaven she is smiling down, proud of her classmates and wishing she could join them for the last day. Mia, we love you. We are proud of you, and you did it too, you did it with us.

While it's time for bed (energy for the last day!) I'll be writing again very soon, as I continue to consider this last year, a lifechanging one if there ever was one.