In applying to participate in the Monticello Teacher Institute for next summer, I had to answer some leading questions.  These took much thought on my part as I considered the seriousness of the goals for the institute.  As a conscientious person, I must realize that if I apply for a scholarship, including travel expenses, meals, and lodging, and if someone is willing to award me with such, then I must be respect that generosity by taking the award seriously.  In other words, I expect myself to put forth great effort to do the best I can if given the opportunity to visit Monticello on somebody else's dime.

One of the questions on the application addresses research as a part of the institutes.  Here's the question (My answer follows.):  MTI gives teachers a chance to step into the role of historian and engage in research.  Provide a description of your proposed research focus.

Unbound, as the cover says, is "a novel in verse".  It's easy enough to understand as the reader is introduced to Grace, her family, and her situation as a black teenager living as a slave in the 1860s.  As is often the case, the slaveowners in this book are depicted as selfish, snobbish, and inhuman.  As is often the case, and as I'm sure it was true in real life, this teenager worries about her family, the possibility of separation, and the fear of doing something wrong and getting caught.

I can definitely empathize with the situation Grace is in, but I kept expecting more intensity.  I think the poetry lent itself to reading this one fast when I should have lingered longer on the family silently waiting for the slave catchers to stop looking for them in the swamp.  There were also some loose ends that I am not satisfied with, as well as some plot points that were included that may not have been necessary.  On a positive note, there was a historical backdrop in Burg's story of which I was not previously aware, so I am thankful that she introduced me to something I did not know.

Lengel closes his tome, General George Washington, with Washington leaving his military service and making his way back home to Mount Vernon.  We can only imagine the Christmases the general missed. While Martha joined him in the field for part of the eight-year war, he had to have missed being home for the holidays (and other times).  Returning to Mount Vernon, he would be able to farm again, socialize more, and relax with his wife.

But first, he had to say goodbye to his troops.  First, he had to resign from the service.  No one can empathize with the general as, with tears clouding his vision, he delivers touching speeches in both locations.  Only then can he make the ride to be with Martha on Christmas.  Douglas Southall Freeman describes his arrival:

The reader can only imagine the emotions of his journey - from the thoughts of leaving his "second family" in the military to the nervous anticipation of seeing his beloved farm again.  The change, like every major change in life, comes with the fear of not being able to to adjust.

But there he is.  Riding through the cold night.  Riding toward his life's love.  We can only imagine the homecoming.

Through empathizing, Fourth graders might just learn:

• That absence makes the heart grow fonder.
• Suspense is part of the reward.
• Family is important.
• Change can be difficult.

Today is a big day!

I can look on the bright side.  Recently, I addressed the benefits of having a student-teacher.  Today, I want to take the opposite approach, because, believe it or not, I do like to teach my class.  So here are the ten reasons I do not like having a student teacher.

1.  I don't get to see my kids as much.
This must be the first reason.  I don't get to interact as much with the children in my class.  I don't get to make the same connections I would if I were present in the classroom for longer periods of time.  I miss that, and I feel in some ways that they have fallen into a different pattern as a result.

2.  I get bored.
While I have kept myself busy with school-related planning and activities, there have been a couple of moments when I have felt like I wasn't earning my salt.  I strive to keep my mind occupied and on task, but any time a person has to be self-driven, that can be difficult.

3.  I have to bat cleanup.
On a few occasions, I have had to enter a situation that I don't know anything about.  I've had to sort out some behavior infractions that happened while students were not under my direct supervision, and I expected myself to "fix" the situations.  It is understandable that kids will push limits.  The chemistry with a different teacher will always change, so this is to be expected, but negative reactions are not invited.  Sometimes I felt successful, and sometimes I felt lost.

4.  I don't like to interrupt.
The student-teacher needs to feel that the class is hers.  That's something that's hard to establish while the regular teacher is still in the room, so I try to leave the class in her hands as much as I can.  That said, I still need to monitor her in order to guide her through the experience, but interrupting the flow of her lessons is difficult, and I don't want to be a distraction.

5.  Time moves too slowly.  When a person is displaced, the anticipation of something to come can be a hard thing to overcome.  I understand that anticipation of this type - the anticipation of a return to glory (if that's not overstating things) is something that makes time crawl.

6.  Time moves too quickly.
With all of the ideas and plans that I've tried to create during my times outside the classroom, I still have not had enough time in the day to work through them all.  Before I know it, the morning has passed, and it's time for lunch - at which time I try to check in with the student-teacher and my peers.  Then the afternoon flies by in the same way. Just when I get started on something in earnest, the time is gone.

7.  People think I have free time.
They see me at a keyboard, or they see me in the hallways, and my peers assume I'm avoiding work or playing.  It doesn't matter if I've filled in for absent teachers and teachers who needed breaks.  It doesn't matter if I've had professional discussions with the principal.  It doesn't matter that I've searched for and discovered some amazing tools and trends for education or if I've created many of my own materials to use in the coming weeks and years.  It doesn't matter that I've developed and come to understand my own methods and how they align with researched educational practices.  Nothing matters except that they see me outside my classroom and away from my students; therefore, I must be relaxing with nothing to do.

8.  I am tied to the university forms and schedules
In many ways, university leaders and state legislators are disconnected with the ways classrooms actually work. They've created a collection of forms and schedules that every one of their teacher-candidates have to follow, and they allow the cooperating teachers (including me) little opportunity to establish our own methods for helping their students develop professionally.  The evaluation forms are limited to specific scores in specific areas and do not always tell the whole story about a candidate.  This can frustrating, let alone the idea that sometimes it feels like jumping through hoops to fulfill requirements instead of doing the things that are necessary to truly guide the teacher-to-be.

9.  Our family doesn't seem as cohesive.
Back to the beginning (number one, above):  have you ever spent an extended time away from your parents or your siblings?  When you returned to their presence, do you feel like you have to play catch-up?  That's how things are for me and the kids.  I feel like they've moved on in a sense, that they have broken up with the old guy and moved on to a new relationship.  As someone who never liked break-ups, it's hard finding myself in the middle of one - even if it is only temporary.  At best I feel I'm in an off-again/on-again relationship.

10.  I'm a little bit lost.
I need to make sure I know where we are in each subject.  Students have moved more quickly in some subjects than in others, and I need to know where everybody is.  I'm going to have to catch up to them in Math, but they're going to catch up to me in Grammar.

I don't know what the solution is - especially since there are some refreshingly positive things about having a student-teacher in my classroom, as well.  I've already addressed a few of those in my previous post.  Like anything in life, it is what you make it; I hope I have made it worthwhile for everyone involved.

Some teachers do not want to have a student-teacher in their classrooms.  They want to keep their class for themselves.  I understand that.  It is hard to leave a class of students, after working with them for a full semester.

However, I also feel the obligation to pass my experience to the next generation.  Here are some of the reasons I love having a student-teacher in my classroom.​

1.  I enjoy creating stuff.
Leaving my students in the hands of a novice can be a difficult proposition, but I have been allowed the opportunity to create new lessons, activities, and projects for future classes.  In some cases, these have been made available for the teacher candidate, helping her "fill the time" from bell to bell.  I feel a little guilty (not really) allowing myself the time to search for materials and gather them into a useful pile, but I have remained productive and very little time has been wasted.

2.  I don't like grading papers.
When the teacher candidate is fully in charge of the classroom, she needs to get as much of the teaching experience. That means I have not had to fully grade papers, which is a huge load off of my responsibilities.  Now, that doesn't mean that I don't still have responsibilities in this realm.  I still have to touch every paper and record every justifiable grade, and at times I have to discern the purpose or the weight of certain grades.  With another person grading, report cards are interesting.  Since a variable has been changed, I plan to compensate for that change after the assignments are tabulated.  Still, not having the day-to-day headache of meticulously evaluating assignments personally is a relief of which I will gladly take advantage.

3.  I get a feel for the pulse of the school.
Parking myself in the teachers lounge during the times I have been out of the classroom, this semester, has shown me more of the personality of our school.  Teaching is a profession that is typically done in a vacuum, without a lot of collaboration with peers.  That's usually OK with me, as I tend to march to the beat of a different drummer, but sometimes we don't get the chance to interact with other teachers - teachers in other grade levels, new teachers in our building, and the like.

4.  There is great value in experience.
I see a difference in the experienced teachers and the newer ones.  Just as there is a change that occurs between kindergarten and fifth grade, there is also a maturity that comes with serving a number of years as a teacher.  For some, the changes are subtle, but for others, there is a certain confidence that drives us.  Hopefully, we don't overreact to the choices our students make.  And also maturity may not be the best way to describe us, we are able to articulate issues and solutions at a higher level than some of our younger peers.

5.  I'm a seasoned educator; pass it on.
The last few years have been years of growth in my career.  They have not always been easy ones.  Changes in direction for our district - both positive ones and negative ones - have affected me tremendously.  I know what it is like to hit the wall and to get burned out.  I understand better, now, how to survive more than tornados and terrorists.  I know better, now, that I have to work through the pain.  There is a blue sky after the storm, and the world is not going to crumble if I don't kill myself trying to comply with all of the requirements of my job.  Teachers in training do not have that view.  Their walls are years into their future, and their challenges are very different.  My challenge as a cooperating teacher is one of calm support.  The student-teacher has to understand that being quick to listen, slow to anger, and slow to speak is golden advice.  It doesn't mean to be nice and withhold strict expectations, but it will save a great deal of heartache in the future.  I gladly pass on little bits of wisdom throughout the experience of having an unripened educator under my wing.
​
6.  The good ol' days are alive and well.
Seeing a new teacher find her niche and grow professionally, in spite of there being such a short time period in which to do so, has often drawn me into my own first years.  I remember the simple things being not so easy.  I remember the people who helped me.  I'm sure those years were tough, and I remember feeling quite inadequate, but as with most of us, those were the good ol' days.  My reminiscing is filled more with the beauty a time removed from reality.  And I appreciate those stepping stones that made me who I am today.

7.  I get the chance to professionally reflect.
In the same ilk, I have been given the opportunity to reflect upon my own current practices in the classroom.  I have done more professional reading in the last year than at any time in my career, and in the last semester I have especially developed a pattern of applying what I have learned to my teaching philosophy.  Much of this has affirmed what I believe and try to practice, while others have challenged me to change or try new directions.  I don't think teachers typically do this; more often we tread water, trying to keep ourselves alive while we feel overwhelmed from all directions.  When I develop myself professionally and in a self-driven manner, I am better prepared to face the challenges that can arise from peers, pupils, parents, and principals.

8.  I have the challenge of old problems.
I forgot the challenge of time management - of not knowing how long a project will take, of forgetting to leave in time to get to lunch or art, of forgetting that dismissal is at 2:55.  It's a challenge that still rears its ugly head from time to time, but not in such a rudimentary manner.  With a student-teacher in the room, I have gotten to revisit my old nemesis of time.  Now, I have the responsibility to lead another human being in addressing the challenges of class management and time management, leaving me with a feeling of supportiveness. 

9.  Contact with other branches of education are important.
I have not been in college for a few years now.  I have not been in contact with our regional professional developers in years.  To rekindle relationships at those levels, albeit with different people in positions, is a valuable part of my time as a cooperating teacher.  More and more, I am convinced that I have more to offer to education than what I present daily to my fourth graders.  Networking with educators outside of the bubble of my own classroom or even my own school site is something more teachers should take on.

10.  I get to help the next generation of teachers.
When the principal asked if I could take on a student-teacher, I told him I would.  I also expressed that I felt a slight responsibility to help new teachers.  This semester has been especially rewarding as I have helped one of those newbies wrestle her way through a classroom of diverse students and curricula that can be vague, not to mention new.

In 1988, I worked for a tax and bookkeeping service in Mustang, Oklahoma.  No, I was not an accountant.  No, I had no training as a CPA.  No, I was not interested in number-crunching in any way back then, nor am I now.  But sure enough, there I was, working for a man named Henry and his daughter Mel, juggling accounting legal binders, entering numbers into tax forms on a primitive, computer.  Still, there I was, making a little moolah just before realizing I should do something that would more effectively utilize my talents (That would be teaching, for those of you who aren't paying attention.).

On one particular summer day, Henry needed some papers delivered to a location in Oklahoma City - probably a client, but I've periodically slept since then.  After a few seconds of deep deliberation, the only actual non-familial member of the staff was selected to make said delivery.  Stepping into my car, I drove out Mustang Road to the westbound on-ramp to Interstate 40.

Immediately, I realized, something was different.

Behind me on the highway - nothing.

Before me - six black and white cars.  Five police cars drove side-by-side, spanning the lanes.  Behind the five, another officer steered his car left and right, weaving to and fro to keep me from advancing.  At every entrance ramp, more highway patrol cars or city police blocked traffic from entering the highway.  How my car made the cut to trail behind the strange parade, I can't be sure.

Finding a radio station in the know, I finally realized what I had gotten myself into:  I was driving Henry's important manila envelope behind Vice President George H. W. Bush's motorcade, headed to the Cowboy Hall of Fame for a quick presidential campaign stop.

Hey!  I didn't have anything better to do, so I followed the six police cars, who were following the limousines and secret service cars, who were following more police cars (and who knows what else).  Surely, the helicopter overhead wasn't keeping a suspicious eye on me!

I found a parking slot and left the manila envelope on the passenger seat.

I walked my almost 23-year-old frame into the museum.

I found a spot in the back, not knowing what to expect.  I found a spot to listen to the platform of the presidential candidate.  I found a spot just to the left of a tall, black-suited young man with an earpiece.  I found a spot to stand beside a seriously-focused secret service agent.

And listen I did.  The speech was a good one.  I liked what I heard.

And when the man concluded, I think I even went out and delivered the paperwork.

Here was a man who would preside over the fall of the Berlin Wall and the conclusion of the Cold War.  Here was a man who would lead our nation into a coalition of allies to defend Kuwait against Saddam Hussein and Iraq, a man whose popularity rose to high elevations before plunging just in time for a three-way fight for a re-election that just wasn't in the cards.

Thirty years later, and we remember George H. W. Bush.  His resume does not only list POTUS, but also includes World War II aviator, baseball player, oil magnate, United Nations ambassador, and director of the CIA.  Today, his body will be interred at his presidential library and museum in College Station, Texas.

​May his family rest comfortably following their public and private periods of mourning.

Our November celebration of positive behavior took place in the darkness of our classroom, as we enjoyed a few glow-in-the-dark features and electronic devices.