Snow day! Oh, snow day. Um, snow day?

This last week, school was out Monday and Tuesday. On Monday, I had seven job interviews at a college interview day. Tuesday, we had in-service. Wednesday, the students were back to work with us, but this is what it looked like outside by lunchtime:

Like the palm tree? It's about 5 inches tall and inside on the windowsill.

And it didn't stop coming down for two days. Our area had over fourteen inches of snow fall. Suffice it to say, we had a snow day. Then another. Then a weekend. As I write this on Sunday, the weather experts are predicting another foot or more of snow tonight and tomorrow. So, a snow day tomorrow is a real possibility. When we Kansans were lamenting the lack of precipitation in our area for the last year, I don't think we were asking to get the backlog all at once!

As children, we saw a snow day as nothing more than an unexpected day off. Sledding! Hot cocoa! Movie marathons! And I will admit that as an adult, an unexpected day off is just as appealing. But, to teachers, snow days test our ability to adapt. Of course, every job requires adaptability and a snow day may require some people to work from home or to work extra hard when they get back in order to catch up. Some people may luck out and not really have to do much other than come back when the roads are clear. But for teachers, we have to take our plan, which we have packed full of meaningful, interesting, engaging learning tasks, and tweak it until it squeaks. We have to get all that learning into fewer days. For me, as a student teacher, my unit for my portfolio project for licensure will have to be shortened. My observation this week will perhaps not be the spectacular lesson I was planning, but something different and hopefully just as impressive. The students won't be ready for that spectacular lesson with two or three fewer classes ahead of it. I'm doubting that particular lesson is going to survive in the form I was planning. Bits of it may work themselves in here and there, but I won't have the luxury of an entire class period for that particular activity. We have a lot of reading to do, a lot of Shakespeare to decipher, interpret, and apply. So what will we do? We'll do what we've been practicing all along. We'll reflect, adjust, and we'll get to work.

Snow, oh snow, wherefore art thou so deep?

Seeing Strengths

As teachers, we are constantly asked to reflect, as well we should. Without reflection, we can't improve. We need to note what problems we have so we know what solutions to seek from colleagues, books, research, and mentors. But, I think we tend to focus on the negatives too often. As we reflect, we look to improve, but we should also note our strengths. What do we do well? How can we use those strengths to make our teaching stronger?

My cooperating teacher does many things well, but one thing I especially appreciate is the volume and quality of feedback he provides on my teaching. Every time I teach, we have a discussion on what went well and what could be improved. I like how his feedback, combined with his teaching experience, can help me see solutions I didn't see on my own. As the school year progresses, we have moved more toward a collegial relationship rather than one of simply expert and student. The collaboration on lesson plans and the overall vision for the semester has been, I believe, a benefit to us both and to the students. In reflecting on my teaching, he is very good about helping me see my strengths, as well as my weaknesses. With one recent lesson, I was reading with the class as a whole. I was a little frustrated at the end of class over some minor problems. Our reflection and discussion on the class revealed some simple solutions to my frustrations. But the biggest thing I noticed in this particular instance was that the list of strengths he had written down was much longer than the list of things to improve. I was too focused on fixing my frustration to see all the things that had gone well. Reflecting on these strengths and discussing them can be as illuminating as trying to fix the problems might be. By noting strengths, we can be sure to use those techniques and strategies again and to build upon them.

We know to look for strengths in our students in order to build on them, just as a house builder starts with a strong foundation and latches every other part of the structure to it in some manner. We look for those bits of sparkling granite in our students. We should also be looking for them in ourselves.

By this point in our education as teachers, we have been reflecting, improving, and polishing. We have climbed a mountain. Sometimes, it's far easier to focus on the pebbles we want to sweep away from the path in front of us than it is to notice the rock on which we are standing. Notice the rock. Don't wander off a cliff chasing after pebbles. Feel that mountain below your feet and take a moment to be proud.

The Job of Finding a Job, or The Big Payoff

So, this is it: the semester I've been working toward for three years, the big payoff, crunch time. When I charged ahead on this journey toward becoming a teacher, I knew it would be a long road. I knew it would be hard. Most of all, I knew it would be a lot of work. What I didn't know was how much I, and my entire life, would change and grow throughout these three years. Finally reaching this point, when everything I do is important and everyone is watching to make sure I can pass muster, I am filled with mixed emotions. I worry that I won't be able to get it all done and save my sanity. I worry that I won't be able to find that job that fits like an old pair of jeans. Will it be worth all the stress and sacrifice of three years? As I feel myself getting tense with worry, I remind myself to breathe, make a list, relax, and rock it.

This isn't my to-do list, but the advice isn't all bad.

One big item on that list? Getting a job. Finding a job is no small task. Before I even began working toward becoming a teacher, I thought about this step. Where do I want to work? Who do I want to work with, what students, teachers, administrators, and districts? What do I want my life to look like? It all feels a little uncertain. I know what I want, and I know I will work hard to get it, as I have been all my life. But I don't know that what I want will be available, much less that they will want me as much as I want them. So, I make plans on top of plans. First choices, second choices, a hundred little (and big) choices that will shape my life, possibly for the rest of my career.

When I was in college the first time around, I thought I could do it all on my own. I didn't really avail myself of the services available to me to help me make the transition from college to life. This time around, I'm well-versed in crafting a life, and I know that taking all the help you can get is a smart thing to do, especially when you have experts on hand. My resume has been reviewed by co-op supervisors, career services, and friends and colleagues. I'm compiling a (hopefully) impressive list of references. I'll be listening to everyone's advice and using what works for me to help me get that great job. This extends to using the tools available on job boards to help make monitoring new listings easier. My smartphone is my partner in crime. Notifications from RSS feeds straight to my phone will hopefully help make that job-trolling easier and more effective. I am accepting help as well as helping myself.

Finding a job really is a job of its own. When added to the job of student teaching, the job of completing the requirements for licensure, the job of trying to make some money, and the jobs of raising kids and having a relationship, it can seem like too much. But real life is hard and like everything else, this phase is only temporary. Eventually, I will get a teaching job, and because of everything else I have done, I will be prepared to be the best teacher I can be. The list in front of me may be long, but the list of tasks completed is much longer. I'm nearing the end of this journey and getting ready to embark on something new, and I have to know it was all worth it.