They came in from recess running, snotting, giggling and crying. All twenty-five of these 6 year olds had spent their morning with a rather frazzled, and rightfully so, substitute teacher. One with alligator tears and snot pouring down her face, had a rather large bump on her head; from "running into a tree when the bell rang". She was sent to the nurse. Another got rug burn on his forehead from tripping in the hallway. We pulled off soggy mittens and unzipped jackets while they made a beeline to the music room, bickering over who was cutting in line. |
The class was dead silent, eyes were sparkling on the front and wow... it was one of those most perfect moments in teaching, kind of like sunny days in Juneau, rare but worth it.
"*Jimmy! Thank you for your quiet hand."
"My armpits are sweaty."
In my most calm, straightforward, and no-nonsense voice I replied:
"Playing the violin with proper posture lets your armpits air out."
On the inside I was bursting, exploding with a laugh until you pee your pants type feeling. On the outside, I was Miss Heidi, student teacher in a beige cardigan.
For some reason, they took me seriously.
We sang, played, and analyzed music.
At the end of class I collected violins, and one sweetie-pie gave me a hug, before handing me a bug that she pulled out of her hair.
Without skipping a beat or even flinching, we went hand in hand to the nurses office.
"How can you tell she has lice?" asked the nurse.
Oh I know!
And I made it back to the music room in time to set up recorders for 5th grade general music; an entirely different beast.
Well, in my education seminar we discussed withitness. A term that is defined by our textbook as, "a teacher's awareness of what is going on in all parts of the classroom at all times and communicating this awareness to students" (Eggen & Kauchak, 2010).
In much of my life, lets be honest, I do not have withitness.
As a child my dad used to say, "Heidi est dans la lune," which in english means: Heidi is on the moon.
I loose my keys, ID and bank card on a daily basis. Unfortunately, that is not an exaggeration. Recently, I lost my phone twice in the same parking lot, it fell out of my pocket on my way into the store and on my way out of the store.
Matching socks? Umm some days I can't even find my socks, not to mention matching ones.
I am currently, writing this blog post in super speed, as my computer might die any minute. Yes, I did forget my charger at the school for the 3rd time this month.
Miss Heidi, on the other hand, has withitness. I love having lessons planned; lessons that match curriculum and standards, and with transitions that flow smoothly. When I go over plans the night before, I catch myself smiling. Maybe it's just that I get to teach something as awesome as music, but I know it is because I cannot wait to see all those little faces.
There are few things in life as satisfying as having the exact thing to say that will motivate and inspire greatness in all students. I think that feeling is withitness.
Even better are those teachable moments when my own mistakes become the serious or the silliness, but nonetheless, a pinnacle moment of realization for my students.
A kindergarten teacher that I greatly admire says, if you want to be a good teacher you have to cross the line. Crossing the line means going beyond a pretty good moment, where the class is mildly engaged. It means taking that next step; whether it be dance-conducting in front of a 5th grade orchestra, wiggling my hips with kindergarteners or blatantly pointing out my own misspelling in front of a third grade class. It is going beyond the comfortable, because I care. My teaching philosophy is based on the fact that I cannot always offer the best answer but I can always offer kindness. I’m not afraid to show my students that I care.
In the article THE HEART OF A TEACHER, which I absolutely adore, Palmer quotes a student describing bad teachers. The student claims that all bad teachers are the same because: "Their words float somewhere in front of their faces, like the balloon speech in cartoons." The student seems to be saying that her bad teachers were separating themselves from their words; they were uninvested and unattached.
I don't think withitness can come from a scripted lesson plan. It has to come from crossing the line to reach that teachable moment. It comes from holding students to high enough standards to show them you are aware, of everything. To show them you care.
And truthfully, Miss Heidi is not always with it. The moments where I say the wrong thing, or don't catch a student at the right moment, those moments kill me. Still, I am dedicated to showing that I care. For me, cartoon bubbles are to remain in art projects and comic books.
Sincerely,
Miss Heidi student teacher in a beige cardigan
* Names are changed. Photos are from clipart.