Flowers for Algernon - Part I

This is my third year teaching eighth grade (after eight years teaching every possible reading/writing variation of seventh grade we have had). When I left seventh grade, I was teaching writing, and eighth grade is predominantly focused upon reading. One of the biggest issues I have had has been pacing. After two years of trying to manage every listed reading assignment in our curriculum, I threw it all out the window and decided to simply teach - and it is paying off. Unfortunately, there are still requirements. 

One of the eighth grade required readings for eighth graders is the short story "Flowers for Algernon." When I say requirement, I mean requirement. Oops. Missed this for the first two years! Year three, I got this...I think. So here goes. 

Progress report for March 5

• Although my students should pick up on the indirect characterization right away, I am going to start with direct characterization. This will be a short and sweet review to introduce us to Charlie. 
• We will be working on computer annotation skills (Google Drive), starting with some basic underlining/highlighting skills. I am trying to get them away from highlighting everything on the paper. I have been teaching annotation all year, but that has not cut down on the highlighter abuse. 
• Since we will be using Google Drive, we will also work on adding comments to take notes. I have created a sentence stem (slide 3) to guide their reflection of the direct characterization. 
• I am also going to have the kids rewrite the first entry in proper English. Well, as proper as they can make it, I suppose. I haven't quite figured out how to grade this. It might simply be a participation grade for them, but I want them to get some editing practice. 

Progress report for March 6 

• For the second entry, we are switching gears to indirect characterization. I want my students to start putting together what we are learning about Charlie through his writing. 
• Since we have been working on Notice & Note signposts throughout the year, I am going to review Again & Again. With our Again & Again lenses (I am combining the N&N signpost with a text evidence strategy from Falling in Love with Close Reading), we will be looking for patterns in Charlie's thinking that help us understand his traits. 



Click for larger copy

• The hard part here is getting them to focus on the text evidence. For example, what does the "rabits foot in my pockit because when I was a kid I always faled tests in school" tell us about  Charlie? (It was really hard to type all of that incorrectly.) Using a modified version of the frame provided in FILWCR, I am going to have the kids write a character traits statement about Charlie.

This is as far as I have gotten so far. Now I have to figure out where to chunk the rest of the text so it doesn't take me until the end of May to teach the entire story. 

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Resources: 

Resolutions? Heck no. I'm sticking to a word.

I have spent a great deal of time this winter break familiarizing myself with social media outlets that I have never used or never understood. Twitter has quickly become a favorite for all of the teacher-networking I have been able to do. Ideas and book suggestions galore!

This morning, I read a blog posted via Twitter from Michelle Haseltine: "From Still to Risk, 2014 Word of the Year." Rather than making resolutions, Michelle chooses a word to help define her year (an idea she got from another blog). How can I not steal an idea like that?

Coming up with a word was easy. It popped into my head immediately: BREATHE. 

I was really excited about turning forty, but forty and I have not been getting along. The past four months have been some of the most stressful of my life: my son moved out, my daughter started middle school, some friendships have been strained,  issues at work with colleagues and students and my own best interests make my head spin, problems with my house are never-ending, and of course, issues with getting older in general are taking a toll on me. 

I constantly find myself breathing shallowly or barely breathing at all. The only time I find myself breathing deeply is when I sit down to do a guided meditation - and I am not doing that consistently -  and it usually results in my falling asleep from being so stressed out to begin with. 

So in 2014, I will BREATHE.

I will BREATHE when I think of my son. I will BREATHE when I remember that he is an adult capable of making his own decisions. 

I will BREATHE when I look at my daughter's grades and wonder why she thinks it is acceptable to get some of the marks she does. I will BREATHE every time I look at her and see her developing into a woman. I will BREATHE when she makes independent decisions, just like I have taught her to do. 

I will BREATHE when certain friends seem to forget that they know me. 

I will BREATHE when that colleague... well, everything with that colleague. I will simply BREATHE. 

I will BREATHE when my students are working my nerves. I will BREATHE and remember that they are still children, after all, and not quite the grown folks they think they are. 

I will BREATHE when I the washing machine breaks and the tub starts leaking and a window gets broken. 

I will BREATHE when I pull a muscle. I will BREATHE when my back hurts. I will BREATHE when I forget to take my meds, and I become super emotional. 

No matter what the situation, when that stress starts to kick in, I will BREATHE. 

New Year's Non-resolutions for students

I had put together a haiku lesson for the first day back to school, but I am going to push that off to the second day. Over the break, I have discovered The Daily Create, and it has been giving me more ideas to use in my classroom than I can keep up with. 

After writing my New Year's non-resolutions (inspired by The Daily Create), I have decided that I am going to have my students create the most outrageous non-resolutions list they can come up with when we return to school. I know they are going to be tired (so will I), and the Chromebooks will not be charged for use this day. Maybe, just maybe, this will get their brains working a bit without causing too much harm to the brain. 

My New Year's NON-resolutions

The Daily Create has suckered me in once again with today's assignment: write ten things you will not accomplish in 2014. 

1. I will not go to Alaska in 2014. 
2. I will not swim with sharks. 
3. I will not suddenly like mustard. 
4. I will not breakdance (although, my dancing often results in something being broken). 
5. I will not get married. 
6. I will not meet Jillian Michaels. 
7. I will not adopt an elephant. 
8. I will not read a law book.
9. I will not blow up my house (and there are days that I really, really want to). 
10. I will not give up my career to become a hobo. 

I love this. Things I will not do! And I think this may be my first day back-to-school assignment, especially now that I have a list written to share with my students. 

But this idea got me thinking about things that I really do not want to do in the future, at least for the next year. So in addition to the goofy list of things that will I will not accomplish in 2014, I have written a somewhat-goofy list of things I will not do in the next year - and I can accomplish these. 

Numero uno: I will not go on a date in 2014. 

• For 2013, one of my resolutions was to go on one date. Well, it's December 30. I don't see that happening. And I have learned that I actually enjoy ridin' solo. I have been single for multiple years now, and the thought of dating causes me massive anxiety. I have learned that I enjoy my space, and I am far too busy (and exhausted) raising my twelve-year-old daughter and coping with my nineteen-year-old son to care anymore. 

B. I will not break down and begin drinking Diet Coke again. 

• Thanks to the Twitter #nerdlution, I gave up my biggest addiction thirty days ago. This is the longest I can ever remember going without it, and I feel a gazillion times better without it. 

Three: I will not stop my imaginary relationship with Adam Levine. 

• I tried. I broke up with him. He begged for me back. What can I say. I'm irresistible with my introversion and tomboyish ways. 

4. I will not stop being an overachiever. 

• Hey, somebody's gotta do it. 

Cinco: I will not buy any more books until I finish all of the ones I currently have. 

• Hey, a girl can dream, can't she...?

Next: I will not stop being opinionated. 

• Opinions are the result of thinking. And boy, do I think. I think, therefore, I opine. 

G. I will not stop working out and trying to get you to be more active. 

• Being active is good. Get off your lazy butts, people. It won't kill you. Plus, the more you workout, the more you can eat. 

Eight: I will not stop wearing deodorant. No explanation needed.

9. I will not stop complaining every time my dog farts while sitting next to me. Damn dog! 

And finally.... I will not grow up. 

• There is a reason I work with with middle schoolers. They make me laugh. They keep me youthful. 

Why did Tigger look in the toilet?

He was looking for Pooh! 

Happy New Year from me to you. 

"Stolen Ideas" - Definitions and Photography

I have mentioned before that my school is part of a state grant, the Texas Literacy Initiative, and the focus this year is on vocabulary. I stumbled upon this in my Twitter feed today, and my brain has been twitching with ideas ever since. I said I would wait until Saturday before I started doing anything school related, but my brain does not agree with that decision after 6 /2 days of little educational stimulation. 

Today's Daily Create (@ds106dc) assignment: Using Dictionary.com's word of the day, take and share a photographic representation of the meaning. 

How easy and wonderful is that. Not only can I use this with a word of the day to expose my students to more vocabulary, I can also assign words from our readings for them to do this with. We are a Bring Your Own Technology school, and most of my students have some sort of camera. For those who do not, they can always draw something. They can also use photo editing apps to add some creativity. 

Of course, what is a great idea without some practice? 

Today's Dictionary.com word:  

As a former daytime soap opera addict (I am only a nighttime soap opera addict now), I know this meaning. The second definition, however, caught me off guard. I decided to go with that one because it is new to me and because I cooked a turkey Christmas Eve. 

So without further ado, here is my photographic representation of schmaltz:

Yum!

Now I need someone to teach me how to use Flickr because I have not logged into the site in years. 

'Tis the season to be annoyed

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, everyone else was sleeping but me because, seriously, who needs sleep anyway, right? Especially the night before dealing with pure chaos. With too much on my mind, I tossed and turned for hours, catching a few zzzs here and there, only to be batted in the face by a cat paw when Pepper decided it was time for me to get up at 2 and 3 and 4 and 5. By 5:30, I caved in, getting up to feed the minions. My thinking was I would take care of that, then curl up on the couch with one of the dogs for a bit more sleep. 

Lo and behold, we had a midnight visitor in the shape of...well, um, dog vomit doesn't really have a shape to it. Groaning, I scrambled to take the dogs out, then return to clean up the mess. As we crept silently to the door, trying not to wake the slumbering son on the couch, I glanced to my left and discovered a wonderland of red. Yes, the lovely puppers must have been thirsty in the night, for they knocked over a pitcher of fruit punch Crystal Light. For the next fifteen minutes, I fed pets and scrubbed floors. 

Time to rest? Of course not. Daisy's Adventures in Vomiting were just beginning, and she threw up all over the blankets on one of the couches. And on the floor. My guess is this is the result of stealing my entire batch of chocolate/peanut butter chip cookies yesterday when I ran to the store. 

Then the daughter came downstairs - and was immediately sent back up to bed. I needed more time before I could deal with twelve-year-old Christmas day excitement. 

I huffed and I puffed my way back to my bedroom, intent on getting some more sleep. I put on Investigation Discovery (because sick and twisted murder stories help me rest) and started playing Candy Crush Saga for the next hour. So much for sleep. Stupid new levels. 

I crawled back out of bed to fill the children's stockings. 

Then I cleaned up more dog vomit. 

Then my daughter got up. 

Then I worked on my son's laundry that he brought home. 

Then I cleaned up some more dog vomit. 

Then my daughter and I decided to make eggs and cinnamon buns and sausage and bacon for a grand ol' Christmas breakfast feast! 

While my child scrambled the eggs, I took the sick dog out, and my son's dog escaped. My son leaped from the couch like twelve lords, running out the door, all the while yelling at me for letting Jenny out. Say what! For the next fifteen minutes, we chased her around our cul de sac and up and down the street, persuading her with treats and a ride in the car. Despite our best efforts to catch her, she eventually ran back to the house and through the door behind my daughter, whom I had sent back to the house to protect the food (Ha! The eggs had been devoured by Minnie). Grumpy son proceeded to retch his brains out, as physical activity is truly not his thing. 

After all this fun, what more could Christmas have in store? I began to question why I even celebrate this holiday, as I am agnostic, and Christmas means nothing more to me than Santa Claus and an annual day to give presents. 

An hour later, after some time for everyone to cool off, we decided to open presents. I swear my mother has some secret plot against me. A Dyson vacuum cleaner - because my vacuum isn't good enough. Does she know how much I could buy for the cost of that vacuum? A bracelet three inches too big - and I do not wear jewelry). A t-shirt that is likely to be too small (they always are; she must not realize after forty years that I am a bit more endowed than she). Chili mix - because I don't like to cook. 

I promise that I know there is some positive thought in there. Why don't I buy Kirsten a nice new vacuum since hers is getting old? Why don't I buy this t-shirt with this lovely quote about misbehaving women? She'll get a kick out of that! Why don't I buy her something to make an easy meal? Plus it's from a foundation that helps out-of-work women find a way to make some income. But I always sense an ulterior motive, whether it is there or not. 

The kids racked up gift cards galore and began planning how and when to spend, when all of a sudden, my son falls apart about not being able to pay his bills (he decided to move two hours away a month ago without any planning). Let the shouting match ensue! But we're not yelling. We're just Italian. 

At this point, I made a big announcement: NO. MORE. CHRISTMAS. When it is the three of us, it is always a disaster. Last year, I was in my room crying, although I cannot remember why. But I was upset. Enough is enough. 

I then my son to pack his stuff up and head back to Austin if he was going to continue to disrupt our newly peaceful home. Things calmed down quickly. I made spinach pie, we had lunch, and I took a nap. The afternoon has been quiet, aside from Jenny ripping apart a giant cardboard box and some ferocious dog flatulence floating in the air. 

We are now off to see The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. The Christmas afternoon movie has become a tradition over the past few years. 

If nothing else, I get two hours of no one talking to me. What could possibly to wrong with that?

Out of the mouths of not-quite-babes

I serve many roles on my campus, one of which is to head up our Sunshine Committee. The purpose of the group is to help make lives a little brighter. 

At the moment, I have been taking up a secret collection to buy our new-this-year principal a birthday/end-of-semester/we-are-glad-to-have-you present. My students have seen my colleagues randomly handing me cash in the cafeteria, hallways, and my classroom. 

A minute ago, another teacher stopped by to bring me a few last minute dollars for the collection. My students began asking why other teachers are always giving me money. I told them I would leave it to their active imaginations rather than to explain. 

On that note, I bring you the top two explanations as to why I am the recipient of dollar bills:

• Number 2 - Ms. Foti is a crack dealer, and the other teachers are making their purchases from me. Obviously, Ms. Foti does not smoke it herself, but some of the others might.
• Number 1: Ms. Foti forces her co-workers to give her their lunch money in order to avoid being beaten up. 

Seriously, Winter Break, can you get here already?