Creating a Classroom You Love, Part I: Back to the Drawing Board

Here’s something you didn't know about me: I love Tina Fey.

I had more than my fill of doctors’ offices, emergency rooms (in the Harrodsburg ER I asked them to change the waiting room channel to the UK game as I  paced around massaging my kidney infection), and diagnostic offices  last year, which correlates to lots of waiting times.  And lots of magazines.  One of them featured a Tina Fey interview.

She was talking about her apartment in New York and she said her boss had told her she needed to decorate her home lavishly.  She explained, “He told me when I open my front door I need to be like, ‘Wow…whose house is this? Somebody important must live here because look at all this.  Having a home like that reminds you why you work.” (Okay, so it’s not an exact quote.  Probably not even in the ball park but you get the idea.)

That sentiment of “Wow…this is mine?” has struck a chord with me.  I’m moving classrooms which means everything had to be taken down-which was a lot.  (I told our lead custodian when he saw the pile in my room he could call me everything but a white woman.  He didn’t, because he’s super nice, but I felt some serious guilt about having to move all that.)  Moving classrooms also means that I’ve been carefully and consciously trying to make a classroom that kids will enter and be so excited they get to learn there.  And I’d like to share with you how I created my classroom with those parameters in mind.

Before I go any further I’d like to point out the most obvious disclaimer: I’m not a pro.  I search HGTV’s website in hopes they will do a classroom makeover, but alas and alack, no such luck.  This is my first attempt at creating a cohesive, intentionally designed classroom.  There are other people who sketch, decorate and plan and their rooms could be on the cover of Good Housekeeping. I know teachers who choose a new theme each summer and then decorate their rooms accordingly.  I don’t have the budget nor the brain power to do that. 

Before making any purchases (or even stepping foot in your room), first gather yourself some paper (I used loose leaf because it was easy to manipulate and put in my binder), writing instruments, and the internet.  Or, if you prefer technology, create a Word document.  Make a wish list-those things that in your wildest dreams you would like to have in your room.  (Much to my shock, I realized I’m fine without a writing center, listening center, and computers-I’d rather have iPads.) Make sure you leave out some extra paper because when you do your research you’ll be jotting ideas and rabbit trails (I added five books to my Amazon wish list when researching and kept writing new ideas).

Once you’ve written down your wish list, get a new sheet and write down: Floors, Walls, Cubbies, Book Cases and Cabinets.  Then go through your wish list and write where each wish list item would go-calendar is on the wall, Reading Corner would be on the rug, manipulatives on the cabinets. 

After this, I was able to better distinguish what items were essential and which were not.  Knowing my essentials helped me plan my wall space in my room (rules by smart board, calendar on bulletin board).  I kinda looked at this like a rubric:

Classroom Environment Rubric

0-No ideas, no direction, don’t care.

1-Essentials only-desks, chairs, and computers.  You’re begging for cast offs from your colleagues and are on a first name basis with the Goodwill and Salvation Army employees.  Though you have no idea what you will do with anything you get from them.

2-A few accents and/or plan.  You know you want something cute or have an idea in mind, but need more direction.  You’re open to any hand me downs-you know exactly what you can use them for.

3-You’re tackling each area one task at a time.  You’ve got a plan and just need time and/or resources to complete it.   You only accept donations if it fits your current theme and/or color scheme.

4-You’ve achieved the nirvana of a cohesive classroom.  The accent colors of your IKEA rug match the colors of the table caddies that match the color of your stapler and mouse pad that match the curtains.  In short, you’re colleagues hate you because your room reminds them of everything theirs is not.  There’s a place for everything and everything is in its place.  You are not above accepting donations, but you squirrel it away until your next great idea.

And going into the new room with some possibilities in mind helped ease my anxiety-I knew things may change, but at least I knew to what I was aiming.

Come back tomorrow to see the next step in creating a classroom you love. 

Young Love

If you celebrate a secular Christmas, then you’re acutely aware that Santa has a list.  And he’s checking it twice. 

Look out, Santa, my girls are coming at you. 

The last week of school,  I noticed some of my girls were passing around a notebook.  Of course I took it from them to see what was so important. 

It was this:

If you’re not fluent in 1^st grade scribble, let me break it down for you:

Boyfriends  

1. It has to be cute 

2. And Bad 

3. And Sexy 

4. Hot

5.Classy  

(I show the note to my friend Tabi who was, quite frankly, shocked.  “Robin!” she said, “Why did you have to go and find my list?”)

You gotta love these girls because they:

a) Made an excellent list.  It is titled, organized and concise.

b) Showed girls can do group work without drama.

c) Have totally got their priorities straight. 

d) All of the above.

And they say tax payer money is wasted on schools.    

Because I Like You

Since I'm trying not to be a supplies hoarder to be generous, I will share with you my treasures discovered.

Since the nearest IKEA is over 2 hours away from my house, I'm forced to look elsewhere.

Which can sometimes get me in trouble because I get sidetracked upon entering stores.  For example, last night I went to Lowe's for exactly one bucket of paint.  

Exhibit A: My shopping cart after running out for exactly 1 bucket of paint.  

I decided a month ago that the color scheme for my classroom would be Electric Pink and Lime (because that sounds way more sophisticated than pink and green).  

Imagine the squeals when I discovered the plastic containers.  They're slightly larger than shoe boxes and they totally match the Electric Pink theme.  I'm psyched because since they have lids I can stack them.  

And here's the best part:  they're 5 for $5!  

And that makes me happy because this has pretty much been my sentiment as I'm setting up my room:

How about you?  Any good finds?  

For My Granny

A year ago today, on a hot, humid mountain day, we laid to rest my maternal grandmother.

I've thought a lot about her and that day today. Last summer I missed the first day of Kentucky Reading Project due to her burial.  KRP required me to write a final paper at the end of class.  To honor my grandmother, I'd like to share the introduction and conclusion from that paper.

For me, Kentucky Reading Project started long before June 12, 2013.

It began in a small Harlan County, Kentucky hospital room on September 7.  It was there my parents welcomed me and had plans that included a life that would be different than their own.

They were supported in this endeavor by their surrounding family.  From an early age, I was sang to, talked to, and, most importantly, read to.  Though both my parents had only a high school education, though my grandmother across the road had only an eighth grade education, they knew the importance of words.  Thus, they made sure to enrich my life with words-nursery rhymes, books on cassettes (when I was two I had multiple books memorized and would “read” them without the cassette to the elementary aged children in my neighborhood, who sincerely thought I was a child prodigy), Bible stories, fairy tales.  They taught me songs, words that rhyme.  And they demonstrated the utter magnitude of words-they had the power to make one laugh, cry, or soothe.  And as I still love words to this day, and want others to find them just as endearing.

But I’ve learned cycles are not just in reading instruction.  Over a long period of time, my grandmother (the one who sang, played hand rhymes and read fairy tales to me) developed dementia.  It was a difficult few years, but even in the midst of her failing memory and ceasing mobility, I knew we needed to keep her brain active as best we could.  So I did what I know-listened, questioned, and had dialogues with her.  When she could barely speak, I got picture books and read to her side by side. Her gnarled, stiff fingers always traced the pictures, so bright and vibrant.  And we would talk about those stories.  The experiences I had as a child helped tell me what to do-I would talk, sing with her and go sit on the edge of her bed and speak to her when she could only blink and gurgle.  Upon leaving her house one time, I leaned over, kissed her and said, “”Bye, Granny! I love you!”  Her eyes met mine and she gurgled distinctly, “I love you, too.”  Those were the last words she spoke to me.  And those words, like the ones I heard when I was small, left a distinct impression on me.  In the ensuing two years until her death, I clung to those words.  And since her death, I treasure them all the more.

I will forever associate my granny with Kentucky Reading Project as she was one of the people instrumental in helping me learn to love reading.  We also buried her on the first day of class.  She would have pitched a fit if she knew I missed the first day due to her burial-she was so proud education is my profession.  She used to tell me that she wanted me to go and “learn ’em good”. 

And now, thanks to Kentucky Reading Project, I surely can. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Baker's Dozen

I'm not ashamed to tell you: since Panera does a baker's dozen bagel special on Tuesdays, I've brought my team breakfast a time.  Or two.


(And don't even get me started on the fact they're experimenting with this whole getting-rid-of-chocolate-chip-to-see-what-else-sells debacle.  I may have responded with weeping and gnashing of teeth.  And considered a tantrum.  But that's a tangent.)


I have now lived to see a Baker's Dozen I thought I'd never I'd witness: 13 snow days.  In 10 weeks. 


Enough said.


(Want more? Okay, if you insist: I got the greatest text ever from my friend Adam who lives in Northern Kentucky.  It read, "Happy Snow Day! If you need suggestions on how to spend it, let me know.  This is my 21st snow day." Y-I-K-E-S.)

The Greatest Science Experiment EVER

Today was the last day of school for us.  (Hello Christmas Winter Break, no alarm ringing, lounging in pajamas, and wasting time.)

And being the outstanding teacher I am, we were engaged in rigorous classroom experiences from the moment they walked in the door to the second they walked out.  (And that's not a joke, thanks to Mary's Polar Express unit. It's so awesome I'm plugging it on my own volition.)

However, Polar Express had to wait until we had finished our Reading Mastery lessons for the day, which is where I was privy to the most awesome hypothesis yet to be tested.

We have a thing in my room-we all like the spotlight on us.  And we will do whatever we can to make sure it's on us. 

Case in point:

Reading Mastery has just begun-half of my class leaves for different RM groups, but having a smaller audience means you can be more clearly heard, so we gear up for some pretty sweet soliloquys despite the less than full house.

I'm going over the checklist before we begin our lesson when I hear Precious say to no one in particular, "When white people get in the sun..."*

*This automatically gets my attention, as Precious can pop off some convoluted logic faster'n'a hot knife through butter so I can't wait to see where this anecdote goes.

"When white people get in the sun, they turn into black people." 

Y'all gotta understand that of the persons in the classroom, I'm the only white one.  I don't claim to speak for all Caucasians, but I know for a fact if I have sun exposure I don't turn black.  Red? Possibly. Tan? After the peeling subsides-maybe.  Pink? Yep.  Black-never happened.

Because I want to dispel this myth, I said, "Really?  Is that so?"

Precious pauses for a moment then replies, "Yes.  White people turn into black people.  My neighbor told me he used to be black, but he got the black smacked out of him."

I kept my composure until our principal did a walk through.  Taking the child and the principal aside, we repeated this newfound knowledge.  And in the midst of the ensuing discussion, we will be conducting a science experiment on that very hypothesis when we can finally go outside for recess.

And like all rigorous teachers, the data on this experiment will be unbelievable.

Letdown Tuesday

Okay, people, I'm coining a phrase: Letdown Tuesday.

Letdown Tuesday is day following Cyber Monday. Cyber Monday is after Super Sunday, Small Business Saturday, Black Friday, Thanksgiving, and (for many of us in Central Kentucky) No Work Wednesday.

You realize all the good sales are gone, along with your positive bank balance and pants that fit.

That many calamities in one day definitely classifies as a letdown, don't you think?