(From my students, I mean. Husband dear? You have my list.)
I don’t want a mug that says, “World’s Best Teacher”, or a gift certificate to Starbucks, or even (gasp) a bottle of wine.
I know these things are purchased with the Christmas spirit in mind but, in my humble opinion, they neither necessary nor needed.
Teaching is my job and I get paid for it. I don’t need a gift for doing my job.
That doesn’t mean I don’t want something for Christmas. It’s just that you can’t buy it at the mall.
Here’s what I wish was under my tree this Christmas:
1. From: The general public – Respect. Teaching is one of those jobs that everyone has an opinion on because once upon a time they went to school and they saw how things were done and they know how things could be better. Everyone, from Joey at the grocery store to Bill Gates at Microsoft, thinks they know better than teachers (who have both the education and the experience).
2. From: My administrators – Respect. I know what I’m doing. Help me do it by supporting me, standing by me, and guiding me when I get off track. If I have your support, I can do anything.
3. From: My fellow teachers – Respect. We are all in this together. Let’s share our ideas, our plans. The more we work together, the better things will be for our students. It takes a village to raise a child and we are the villagers.
4. From: Parents – Respect. I want your child to succeed. Sometimes your child may not like me very much and that’s OK. I’m not here to be your child’s best friend. My job is to help them to learn and to leave my classroom better educated than they were when they came in. But I can’t do it alone. I need your support. If your child comes home and says, “My teacher hates me” ask why he thinks that. Call me. E-mail. Talk to me about how we can work together to make things better for your child. Don’t immediately jump into Mama Bear mode and call the school demanding that my head be served on a platter.
5. From: Students – Respect. Listen carefully, please. Cell phones down. Eyes up front. I want you to succeed. The only reason I come to school everyday is because of you. I am always thinking about ways to help you, ways to engage you through interesting and relevant lessons plans. I want what’s best for you. If you got a 65% on your report card, it is not because I hate you. It’s because that is the mark you earned this term. And I promise you, I will do everything I can to help you improve. But I need your cooperation. I can’t do it alone. It’s like the old expression, “You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink.” I can walk you down to the water, but unless you put your head in and drink, you are always going to be thirsty.
6. From: Myself – Respect. This one is the hardest. Most teachers are extremely empathetic creatures. We care deeply about our students. It’s what makes us get up in the morning. But it’s also our downfall. When we read articles that describe teachers as lazy and greedy, it hurts. When parents jump to conclusions and attack us for trying to help their child, it hurts. When a student you’ve been bending over backwards trying to help, turns on you, it hurts. You start to doubt yourself and your choices. And then everyone suffers.
So, for Christmas this year, I want to give all of my fellow teachers (including myself) the gift of respect.
For a group of people who talk all day for a living, teachers are often a very silent bunch. We save our comments for the staff room and then grumble about how no one listens to our opinion.
Teachers across the United States are in crisis. Morale is at an all time low. Politicians are treating teachers like children who need to be monitored and disciplined with threats of job loss and salary reductions.
It’s disgraceful.
As a Canadian teacher, I know that we have it better than our friends to the south, but I can see us headed in that direction and it scares the hell out of me.
Business people with no links or background to education are being tapped by politicians to find ways to “fix” our education “crisis”.
Forgive me, but we are neither broken nor in a crisis. Yes, there are things we can improve upon. And guess what? Most of us know exactly what needs to be done. Most of us have multiple degrees in everything from child development to curriculum and evaluation. We do regular professional development on everything from reading and math to bullying and nutrition. We can help make things better. We need money and time to make positive changes, not outside “experts”.
But before we can help others, teachers need to find the courage to stop whispering and start speaking up. Our students want to look up to us. They want us to be role models. We need to model bravery so that they can grow up to be brave as well.
We live in a world where people overshare all the time. Videos and pictures that you might have once only shared with family and friends are now put on the internet for the world to comment on. But despite all of this new ‘openness‘, I don’t think it’s made us any braver.
We still watch what we say and worry about what people will think, what they might say. What if someone doesn’t agree with me or doesn’t approve of what I say? What if they get mad at me? What IF not everyone likes me???
Guess what? The world will keep spinning. You will continue to breathe. Life will go on. And you will be better for having spoken your mind. The world will be better.
Being brave doesn’t mean you have to rescue a baby from a burning building. It could be as simple as standing up for a colleague when they are being harrassed or supporting a student when they need someone in their corner. Bravery often shows itself in simple acts of kindness.
I stopped watching music videos sometime after Michael Jackson’s Thriller because I have no interest in seeing women dance around half-dressed while men sing about degrading them. But this? Brave is the best video, the best song, the best…everything I have seen in a long time.
It’s not deep or complicated or edgy. It’s just honest and true and fun.
If this song can’t be our new national anthem, let’s make it our new mantra.
Watch it, love it, live it. I want to see you be brave.
“Brave”
You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love
Or you can start speaking up
Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do
When they settle ‘neath your skin
Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins
But I wonder what would happen if you
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
I just want to see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I wanna see you be brave
Everybody’s been there,
Everybody’s been stared down by the enemy
Fallen for the fear
And done some disappearing,
Bow down to the mighty
Don’t run, just stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
And since your history of silence
Won’t do you any good,
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
See you be brave
Oct 5 is World Teacher Day! What are you doing to celebrate?
I started celebrating today at precisely wine-o’clock. (Cheers, Me!) I’ve been in this profession (off and on) for more than 20 years, so I figure I’ve earned a few pops, as Don Cherry would say.
Teaching is a wonderful, fun-filled, amazing career BUT if you aren’t careful, it can drive you crazy.
Two years ago, I let it drive me completely and absolutely bonkers. My long trip back from Bonkersville took me more than a year to complete, but I came back with a brand new perspective.
Teaching is a job and you need to do it to the best to the best of your ability. You have kids who depend on you and parents who trust you with their most beloved little person. But in the end it’s a job and you can’t let it run or ruin your LIFE.
So, how can you be the best teacher you can be without going bonkers?
1. Do your job. Sounds simple doesn’t it? But sometimes it isn’t. We get bogged down in paperwork and standardized tests and we forget the real reason we are there…to teach kids. So, Priority #1 everyday: teach kids. Priority#2: everything else.
2. Accept the fact that you can’t do everything, for everyone, every day. It’s called being human.
3. Take comfort in the reality that you can be replaced. Yes…comfort. Once I realized that the world of school continued to spin perfectly fine without me, I felt like a load had been lifted off my shoulders. It was liberating to know that, yes, I made a difference but no, the world would not stop spinning if I stepped off for a day or a year.
This is my mantra. As teachers, we can’t fix everything so we have decide what we can do and what we have to let go. It’s the wisdom part that gets me all the time.
4. Understand that you don’t have to teach everything or fix everything in one year. There are a lot of people in the system who will help your students over the years. It’s not your sole responsibility. I’ve taught or worked with almost every grade (including university students) and one thing every grade level teacher has in common is this belief that if “I don’t do it now, next year’s teacher won’t do it and little Johnny will be screwed.” Let me put your mind at ease. All (good) teachers, at every grade (including college and university) want what’s best for students. They will be OK.
5. During the school day, shut your door – physically and metaphorically – and focus on the students inside your room. They are your priority. (If you have trouble with this one, see #1.)
6. Teach students subjects. Don’t teach subjects to students. Know your students as well as your subject and I guarantee you will have a successful year. I love the fact that my son’s math teacher is a freaking math genius, but I also love the fact that she can relate to her students and make them feel like they can do anything. That’s a win-win.
7. Take care of your health. Eat right, exercise, get your sleep. You can’t do those things if you are working all the time.
8. If you do get sick, take a sick day. Seriously…no one admires the teacher who shows up with the flu and spreads flu bugs throughout the school. Hear me now: you aren’t that important! There are subs who can keep the world of school of spinning while you recover from the mumps. And don’t forget: your health includes your mental health, too. No one likes the crazy, cranky teacher. The occasional mental health day may be the thing that keeps your career on track.
9. If your classes are anything like the ones I see, you could literally work 24-hours a day and still not meet the needs of every child, every day. Do your best and then shut it down. Make sure you have a life outside of school. (see #7)
10. Enjoy it. Yes, class sizes are often too big and curriculums change and sometimes things just don’t make sense. But kids are worth it. Being able to watch children learn and grow every day is an amazing gift. Enjoy it.
Note: This pithy advice applies to teachers like myself who experience first world problems. Teachers who work in third world countries, war zones, or in areas of extreme poverty are, in my humble opinion, teacher-saint hybrids who have my amazed admiration.
As an elementary school teacher, I rarely assign homework.
Of course I encourage my students to read. I also encourage them to follow the news, eat right, and be kind to their friends and family.
But nightly math sheets and fill-in-the-blank grammar exercises?
Nope.
I’ve studied the research, read the books, watched the kids, and talked to the parents. I’ve raised two boys to teenagehood and I was in school for almost half my life. And I know, in my gut and in my brain, that regular, daily homework for homework’s sake is at best, unnecessary, and at worst, detrimental to children’s learning.
Go ahead.
You can start the shrieking and the hand-wringing now. I’ll wait. I’ve taken more flak for my decision to not (regularly) assign homework than I have for just about anything else in my career (except my smart mouth, but that gets me in trouble everywhere I go).
The myths that surround the benefits of homework have been around for so long, most of us just assume it’s a necessary evil.
But it’s not.
Now, I know what you’re saying.
Reader: OK, Heather, let’s say that I believe you (which I don’t) when you say the research shows that homework makes little or no difference in terms of academic success, especially at the elementary school level, but what about the non-academic benefits?
Me: Like what?
Reader:Well, you know, homework teaches kids responsibility and time management and self-discipline. That stuff is important!
Me: I agree. Those things are important. But does homework really teach those things? Can you show me a study that proves that to be true? How many 7-year-olds do you know who come home from school and pull out their homework and say, “Gee Mommy. I have to finish this math worksheet and colour in this photocopied picture of an apple without going outside the lines before school starts again tomorrow. Let me see, how much time will I need? I guess I’ll have my snack now and then I’ll go outside and play for 30 minutes. That will leave me with enough time to colour in the apple while you’re making dinner. Then I might watch a little TV for no more than 45 minutes because I need to leave myself lots of time to work on this math because I really don’t understand it.”
Washing the car – maybe the funnest chore, ever!
Let’s be honest here.
When homework comes home, the only person who has to cram more responsibility, time-management and self-discipline into their already crazy day is the parent or guardian of the youngster with the homework.
So, how DO we teach important things like those noted above?
One word: laundry.
Yup. Laundry.
Now, this means that the job of teaching responsibility, time-management, and self-discipline outside of school hours has to be taken out of the hands of teachers and placed into the hands of parents and guardians.
I know. Now I’m talking crazy talk.
“But you’re the teacher! It’s your job!” I can hear you screaming.
Yes, I’m the teacher. And when your child is in school, I will do everything I can to teach them all sorts of things, both academic and non. But, I can’t follow my students home.
And home is where these incredibly important lessons need to be taught.
Household chores (unlike homework) have been proven to instill in children all of those great non-academic life lessons that help nurture and grow our children into responsible adults.
“Using measures of an individual’s success such as completion of education, getting started on a career path, IQ, relationships with family and friends, and not using drugs, and examining a child’s involvement in household tasks at all three earlier time, Rossmann determined that the best predictor of young adults’ success in their mid-20s was that they participated in household tasks when they were three or four. However, if they did not begin participating until they were 15 or 16, the participation backfired and those subjects were less “successful.” The assumption is that responsibility learned via household tasks is best when learned young.” http://www.cehd.umn.edu/research/highlights/Rossmann/
Children who feel like they are contributing members of their community are more likely to feel like they belong.
I am not suggesting we send our children back down into the mines on the backs of old ponies to dig for coal. I am suggesting that they do age-appropriate tasks that allow them to feel like they are contributing to making life better.
Children are not pets or pieces of furniture or even guests. They are a valuable part of the family unit. They BELONG.
I chose laundry as an example but any chore will do. (Don’t panic. You can ease into it. I’m not expecting your child to be running a laundromat out of your home at age 11.)
Children as young as 3 can be taught how to put their dirty clothes in the laundry hamper instead of throwing them on their floor.
By the time that child reaches elementary school, he or she can sort the laundry into whites and colours and help mom or dad carry it to the washing machine. They can also put their clean clothes away in the drawers.
Then you can add folding or hanging up their own clothes. (This one is scary because children rarely fold their clothes in a way grown-ups consider acceptable. That’s OK. If they don’t like wearing wrinkle clothes, they will do it differently next time.)
You want to teach a teenager about time-management? Let them do their own laundry. They will soon discover that if they want to wear that dirty shirt and those jeans to the dance, they need to do their laundry at least the night before so everything will have a chance to dry.
You want to teach a child about self-discipline? Let them do their own laundry. They will learn that instead of playing video games non-stop for 3 hours, they need to keep an eye on the washer, so they can move one load to the dryer and get another one in.
You want to teach a pre-teen about responsibility? Let them do their own laundry. They will learn that no one else is going to pick their dirty clothes up off the floor and wash them, so they better do it or else they’ll be wearing dirty clothes to school.
(Note to the OCD Moms out there. Back away from the mess. Seriously. Close your eyes, put your hands in your pockets, breathe into a paper bag. Better yet, shut the door, walk away, pour yourself a glass of wine and sit. Do whatever you have to do but do NOT go in there and ‘rescue’ your child. Think of it as short-term pain for long-term gain.)
Abolish homework. Mandate laundry.
He practically begged to vacuum when he was 3. He doesn’t beg anymore but he still does it.
Disclosure: I have two teenage sons. Both have been doing their own laundry, along with numerous other chores, for years. One took to it like a duck to water, while the other kept forgetting to add the laundry soap.
The first time he realized what he had done, he called me into the laundry room in a panic, “Omygawd! Does this mean I have to do it all over again?!” (Like he had just scrubbed each item of clothing by hand on a rock in the middle of a river.)
“Well,” I said. “Smell your clothes. Do they smell clean?”
We both smelled a piece of wet clothing. Mine smelled like wet stinky teenage boy.
I recently told my tale of personal woe in an article that was published on the Huffington Post website.
It was scary to bare my soul in a public setting but I thought it might help other teachers to know that there was someone else out there who had a difficult time doing a challenging job.
The feedback I received was amazing. I got comments from teachers all over the world. “It’s like you are telling MY story.” Some people sympathizied, others empathized and some disagreed.
I also received some rather interesting feedback that implied there was a game at hand that I didn’t realize I was playing.
“Meh. Big deal. That’s nothing. You should see what I had to deal with.”
To which I replied (in my head), “Really? Is this a contest? Are we playing Who’s the Biggest Loser right now? Is this a special episode of The Amazing Pity Party?”
The one-upmanship in the comment section was quite amusing to watch.
“Humpf. This lady obviously had lots of money and got to stay home all day. I don’t have any money and I am run off my feet working two jobs.”
“Hold on, here. You have it made! You have two feet? I only have one foot and no job and I sit in my house all day crying my eyes out.”
“Whoa, whoa, suck it up, lucky duck. You have one leg? I have no legs and I live on the street where I wish I could cry but I have notear ducts because they were removed by aliens!!!”
You see where I’m going with this?
We’re all just simple human beings trying to get by in a world that’s sometimes neither fair nor kind.
And sometimes the only thing that gets us through the day is the compassion of others – family, friends, and yes, even strangers.
Pain is pain. Compassion is compassion.
And I’ll let you in on a little secret: It’s not a competition.
I know the story I told isn’t the most pitiful story in the history of the world. In fact, it not even the saddest story within a 100 metre radius of my house.
But it’smy story. And it’s the only one I can tell.
Feel free to tell your own. Trust me. If it caused you pain, you have my compassion.
For the ultimate one-upmanship story of woe, check out the attached Monty Python sketch. Be prepared to snort milk out your nose (if you’re drinking milk, that is).
Yup. Suburban Princess Teacher, Clark Kent, Jason Collins – we’re all out of the closet now.
A few days ago I sent a story into the Huffington Post about the mini-mental-breakdown I had following a very trying school year. I wasn’t expecting to hear back…this was the Huffington Post, afterall.
But I got an e-mail back within the hour.
“We want to publish your story but you need to use your real name.”
To paraphrase the foul mouth kitties above: Damn! Now things just got real.
I checked in with a good friend who is both an amazing writer and a trusted mentor. She said it was time. Time to stop hiding and step out of the shadows. Let the writing speak for itself.
So, I put on my big girl panties and took a big cleansing breathe and…pushed send.
Let me know what you think. I’m pretty sure I can handle it.
National Review theatre critic, Kevin Williamson, got himself in a kettle of controversy last week when he lost his mind and grabbed a fellow theatre-goers cell phone and chucked it across the room.
This action earned him a slap across the face and a uniformed escort from the theatre.
Turns out he was trying to watch the play he was hired to review and despite numerous requests from both management and himself, the woman next him would not stop talking loudly and using her cell phone throughout the performance.
His actions have spawned a range of reactions but to Kevin I say:
There but for the grace of God go I…
I was at the movies a few months back and the woman next me was on her cell phone throughout the entire movie. The light from her phone was in my eyes and she kept chuckling when she texted back whoever was texting her. I wanted to grab her phone and type: “Just paid $20 to miss the whole movie by texting. lol.” Unless she was saving lives through her job at the UN or finding a cure for cancer on her phone, there was no excuse. I almost pulled a “kevin williamson” that night.
I’m not a Neanderthal – I like technology. I like having a cell phone in case of emergencies and I enjoy blogging and updating my Facebook status, which my children say makes me slightly more evolved than a T-Rex.
Sometimes I feel like a throwback to another era. Not as far back as the pioneers or anything gross like that (nooo…I like running water…and antibiotics) but at least to an age where people ignored the world around them politely by daydreaming or impatiently waiting for their turn to talk.
Don’t get me wrong. I can be just as rude as the next person when I’m having a conversation. I am particularly known for desperately wanting to tell my related story before you’ve finished your story, which means I’m not really paying attention to your story. My mind wanders and I don’t have a full handle on how to rein it in just yet.
But I don’t get being tethered to your cell phone. Just because it “dings’ doesn’t mean you have to immediately check it. You’re not Pavlov’s dog. You won’t get a treat if you check it within 5 seconds.
I sort of get teenagers being obsessesd with their phones. They’re social creatures and their brains aren’t fully developed yet.
But adults? Seriously folks.
Live in the moment.
If you are at a concert, watch the concert. Don’t watch it through the 3-inch square screen you hold in front of your face (disrupting the view of the rest for us, I may add). You’re paying a lot of money to watch a teeny-tiny concert.
If you’re at work, do your work (this does not apply if your job involves using a cell phone – please don’t send me a message blathering on about how you need your phone for work – that’s not what this is about.)
If you’re having a conversation with someone, focus on that person.
Turn off the sound on your phone. Check it when you’re free from other distractions.
For that matter, you could…dare I say it? Turn it off.
I know, 21st century blasphemy. I can just hear the shrieking now: But I can’t turn it OFF! What if? What if?
What if #1: “But what if my kids need me???”
Not to sound like I just rode in on the buggy with Laura Ingalls, but we all survived a childhood where we couldn’t contact our parents every second of the day and we LIVED.
As a matter of fact, the very, very rare times I called my father at work, it often went like this:
Me: “Dad, it’s me, Heather.” (I thought it was very important to identify myself, even though I was (and still am) his only daughter and the use of the term “dad” should have sufficed.)
Dad: “Why are you calling me at work?”
Me: “I cut myself and there’s blood everywhere!”
Dad: “Well, what can I do about it? I’m at work! Put a band-aid on it and wait until your mother gets home. And get your homework done.”
My children never call me at work. They enjoy the time we spend apart too much. They have texted me, though. I check these when school is over. These texts are usually earth-shattering notes that involve asking if we can have pizza for supper, instead of something ‘gross and healthy’ or to tell me that they forgot to get their science test signed and now they’re in trouble. In the words of my father: what do you expect me to do about that now?
What if #2: “But what if my spouse needs me???”
To do what? Tell you that they’re having a sucky day? Hello…we call that dinner conversation in my house.
What if #3: But what if someone funnier and more interesting than you is trying to get in touch with me?
Ahhh, now that’s the honest answer. Or at least it’s the one I think of when you constantly focus on your phone when I’m with you.
Put down the phones, people, and live the life that is going on around you (ie. Focus on Me!)
p.s. To my friends who are wondering, “OMG, is she talking about me?!” The answer is, of course not! I’m talking about that other person…you know, the one we talk about..behind her back? Duh, what kind of person do you I think I am? I love YOU.
Hand me the phone, Laura. I want to text Pa to pick up a pizza on the way home. I’m so sick of boiled turnip.
Growing up in the suburbs of New Brunswick in the late 70’s, it was pretty clear that only the rich families went to Florida on vacation.
Vacations with my family did not consist of getting on a plane and flying to…well, anywhere.
Instead, they involved an annual 14-hour drive (each way) to southern Ontario to visit the grandparents and assorted relatives.
My mother packed breakfast, lunch and supper and we drove straight through. My father white-knuckled it beside crazy-Quebec drivers, while my brother and I bounced around (sans seatbelts) in the back of the car. We would flip the seats down in the station wagon and lay out the sleeping bags, so we could read our comic books and punch each other until someone reached back and smacked at us from the front seat.
We never stopped at a hotel on the way for a night of fun and frivolity. Well, we might have once but I think it was because the car broke down and I don’t believe there was any frivolity.
Like I said, Disney was not part of my childhood. (Thanks a lot, Dad…you owe me for some serious therapy).
Fast-forward 20 years: my children are of that “Disney” age but still it’s not in the cards. For one thing, my boys were runners and climbers. Both had near-misses with cars around the age of 3 and I spent much of their early years just praying they wouldn’t die on my watch. Combine my fears of them running off into the Magic Kingdom and being kidnapped by Goofy with the fact that we had about 37 cents to rub together and once again, Disney was out of the picture.
It seemed as if I was destined to be a Disney virgin for life.
But then…all that changed.
On a whim, my husband and I decided to take the plunge. We pulled the kids out of school and flew to the magical land of Mickey and Minnie. Granted, it wasn’t exactly the best time…my eldest graduates this year and 7 days out of school when you’re facing grade 12 exams probably wasn’t the smartest thing we could have done, but we were on a mission – we were Disney bound!
We left on a cool Canadian morning in May and arrived to steaming hot Orlando temperatures.
Our days were full.
I had bought tickets for 3 days in Disney, 2 days at Universal Studios, 1 day at SeaWorld, and 1 day at Wet and Wild. We left two days open for shopping and relaxing.
Let me tell you – those two days off?
Priceless.
My senses have never been so overloaded in my life.
Sights, sounds, smells – everything comes at you full speed at Disney (and by Disney, I mean all of the Orlando theme parks…they’re all Disney to me). You are on a thrill ride before you even set foot on a roller coaster.
I am grateful to have gone but I don’t know if I would go again. I think it’s something like childbirth. You would only do it again if you could forget what it was like the first time around.
All that said, since I am now an experienced veteran of all things Orlando, I will share my tips and observations with you. (You’re welcome.)
All good things end in the gift shop…and all rides…and all shows. You literally walk through hundreds of gift shops during a week at Disney. Put on the blinders and march quickly through the gift shops. There are hundreds of discount stores mere miles from the amusement parks. You do not need a set of salt and pepper shakers shaped like Mickey and Minnie. And if you really, really do? Buy them for $9.99 at the outlet store, instead of $29.99 at the gift shop.
As much as I enjoyed all of the ‘activities’, waiting for my boys to finish riding the crazy-ass roller coasters gave me the chance to people watch. There is nothing like people watching at Disney – you see all shapes, sizes, ethnic groups, ages and personalities and hear all types of accents. I saw people in clothing choices that made me wonder if they owned a mirror and I saw tatoos on everyone from grannies to pre-teens. It was like watching a movie.
Babies at Disney…WTF?! I don’t get it. What benefit does a BABY get out of a day at an amusement park? Now, if you have other children and you’re just dragging the baby along for the ride, I kinda get it…I couldn’t do it, but I understand. But there were adults there with just a baby…trying to get the carnie-worker to let them take their BABY on the rollercoaster with them?! Stop. Put.the.baby.down. (One exception to the baby rule is my cousin Tracy, but that’s only because she is a superwoman and she does Disney with kids the way it should be done…with kid rides and kid activities.)
Water rides will save your life. Don’t worry about getting soaking wet…you will get soaking wet but you won’t care because Orlando is stinking hot and you will dry quickly. The water rides will cool you off but even better than that, they will soothe any crankiness or nastiness that might be setting in after a day of sensory overload.
Street food is everywhere. Word of advice? Walk away from the giant “turkey legs”. At $10 a piece, these things could feed an entire family. But should they? I have never seen a “turkey” with a leg that big. And the meat is pink, more like ham than turkey. I am pretty sure these things are made from some sort of weird hybrid. Turkey + pig = purkey. I would not encourage the eating of purkey until more testing can be done.
Carry your own bottled water. We bought a two-four of bottled water at a local convenience store for $2.99, which coincidentally is what you pay for ONE bottle of water at the parks. We hydrated ourselves like we were hiking through the Sahara desert.
Carry some real food for lunches and snacks. Yeah, the street meat and deep fried foods are fun…for awhile. But there comes a time when you hit the wall and you can’t bring yourself to pay $7 for a hot dog that tastes like…well…a hot dog.
Allow yourselves downtime. For us, it was sitting around in the evenings, watching TV or hanging out around the hotel pool. That’s when the kids would tell us what they liked, didn’t like, wanted to do, didn’t want to do.
Enjoy it for what it is. Yes, it is a super-sized, commercialized, sensory experience but for me, it was a chance to spend time with my husband and our boys without any interruptions from real life. Just us and Mickey.
A teacher for Prime Minister? What you talkin’ about, Willis?!
If Liberal leader Justin Trudeau wins the next federal election in a few years, Canada will have a teacher for Prime Minister. Imagine! A teacher as the leader of our great country!
Although I think this would be fabulous, I can’t imagine it happening, seeing as many Canadians don’t even seem to want teachers to be teachers.
In last Saturday’s Globe and Mail, columnist Elizabeth Renzetti wrote an article titled, “Who You Callin’ A Teacher?” In it, she describes the twisted relationship the general public has with teachers.
“Is there another profession that’s so loved in theory and so loathed in practice?”she asked.
She continued by saying, “The love is everywhere to see, so long as it doesn’t cost us anything: Countless books, films and documentaries take a scrappy teacher as a hero…In real life, teachers get scant thanks from a public that expects them to perform ever greater miracles with ever fewer loaves and fishes.”
I love that biblical image: performing ever greater miracles with ever fewer loaves and fishes.
It’s what teachers do every day. Not only are we expected to cover the 3-R’s (and cover them well enough to beat out other countries on standardized tests) but we are also expected teach children things that their parents should, but often don’t, deal with at home (like, please don’t rape your classmate, put her picture on-line and then bully her into an early grave…but that’s a story for another time). Add in the integration of special needs students who don’t get the support they need…oh, and do it with less money and little support.
What gives? Why the lack of respect for teachers? Renzetti explains it like this:
“There’s a particular store of resentment directed at teachers, perhaps because so much of their work is invisible to the outside world, but more likely out of numbing jealousy that they get summers off.”
I totally agree. In a past blog about snow days, I made the point that every job is different. Each has it’s own pros and cons and yet many people can’t get past the perks that teaching has to offer.
The green-eyed monster is a vicious, myopic creature. We often envy what we see on the surface. Dig a little deeper and you’ll see all of the time, effort, blood, sweat and tears that go into a full school-year of teaching. There aren’t a lot of people who can do that well. And yes, I know there are bad teachers out there…just like there are bad nurses and bad toll booth operators and bad garbage men. But I think it’s fair to say that most teachers are well-trained professionals who have the best interests of their students in mind. It just wouldn’t be worth it if you didn’t.
But let’s go back to Justin Trudeau for a minute.
In his recent blog post, Drama Teaching Experience, fellow teacher, Grant Frost noted (tongue in-cheek) that the Conservative attack ads on Trudeau had it right. What could a drama teacher possibly bring to the job of prime minister? How could a teacher possibly lead our country? His response?
“Drama teachers are a special breed of people who develop co-operation in their students, work tirelessly so that others can shine, and help all students reach their fullest potential…Canadians should dream of such a leader.”
In the end, Renzetti sums it up: “Those who can, teach; those who can’t, make fun of them.”
Excuse me, Mr. Harper, but who’s teaching your kids?
Yet another reason why some animals eat their young.
The Heir: Yeah, no one likes to be awakened at noon on a beautiful summer day, MOM!!!The Spare: No barging in! (Did you see that?! It says, “Dad”…not “Mom”… “Dad”. I win!!!)
I don’t want any gifts for Christmas.
As an elementary school teacher, I rarely assign homework.
suburbanprincessteacher 