Tag Archives: Teaching

Education, On My Mind

Malaysia, Pomegranates, and an IEP

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As we stared out the window last night watching a foot of snow fall, two topics of discussion and one fruity experience took center stage.

Map of Malaysia (Map from Lonely Planet)

Earlier yesterday evening, I had a final job interview for a social studies teaching position at a school that is just starting up in Malaysia. Suffice to say, I believe it went quite well. I’ve been waiting on tenterhooks for an email from either of the administrators who interviewed me . . . and I’m bad at waiting. Wish me luck!

 (Delicious fruit from here)

My roommate, E, and I debriefed about the interview over dinner. We talked about when I might move (hopefully August), what my responsibilities would be (to be determined), and what we know about Malaysia (not much). Then E decided she wanted to have pomegranate seeds for dessert. We’ve both been trying to expand our food options because we’re bored of what we usually eat, which presented a problem: E didn’t know how to obtain said seeds from said pomegranate.

The first time I had pomegranate seeds was in middle school. A family for whom my sister babysat sent her home with a pomegranate one night. My mum looked up how to get the seeds out, and we’ve been playing in warm water and banging wooden spoons ever since.

And so E and I cut open the pomegranate, obtained the seed, and had our dessert. There’s something about pomegranates that always make me smile because they’re so pretty to look at and so sweet. They always remind me of being in Israel where pomegranates grow like apples do here. As in, on trees. Everywhere.

(You can see more pictures from my time in Israel here)

I’m going to make the grandiose assumption that most people do not spend their evenings discussing special education policy while doing the dishes and cutting pomegranates, but E and I did. I’m going to miss that when I move wherever I’m lucky enough to get a job. E is involved in a local adult literacy program and told me that the student she tutors, who is our age, had an IEP in high school. E asked me to explain the difference between an IEP and a 504 (used my Master’s degree today – CHECK!). Simply put, there are 13 categories of disabilities for which students may receive an IEP, which provides access to special education services, certain accommodations, and certain curricular modifications. A 504, however, is for students who do NOT fall into one of those 13 disability categories but does have a disability; these students do not need special education services or curricular modifications but may need some accommodations in the classroom.

Perhaps that wasn’t so simple. (For example, you may be wondering what I mean by special education, accommodation, and modification. If so, I apologize for my poor explanation and encourage you to look here for a PDF from the Disability Rights Center, which may help.)

Anyway, I’m rambling so I’ll stop now. Like I said, bad at waiting. Have a great day!

New York

I finally have a classroom!

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I’m about to start my third year teaching and, as the title has doubtless told you, I finally have a classroom! My students are probably savoring their last days of summer, as I am, but I’m getting excited to go back school.

As promised, here’s the virtual tour. The quality isn’t the best because YouTube kept rejecting my file formats, but it’ll work. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mqosOqcnsc&feature=youtu.be

Education, On My Mind

Will you sign my yearbook?

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Sign my yearbook? we used to ask, before our writing was good enough to string together more than our names. I didn’t know what yearbooks were the first time I encountered them in kindergarten, but the kids with older siblings were walking around with markers. Sign my yearbook? Will you sign my yearbook? It was only much later, during middle school and high school, that yearbooks became a place to record thoughts, wishes, memories, and hopes.

Remember me, those scribbled messages begged. Remember me because I will remember you.

I took my senior year of high school yearbook to school my freshman year of college and read it when I felt alone. I have all of my yearbooks from my years of school and I do pull them out every now and then. Growing up, I used to love looking through my parents’ high school yearbooks and laughing at their hair, their clothes, and how their friend groups had remained almost exactly the same.

I’ll miss you writing notes to me in science! A high school friend and I kept in sporadic touch in college and she’s taking my roommate’s spot in our apartment next year. Never would have imagined. Be nice to everyone, because you never know how you’re going to find them later on.

Today is the last class day of the 2012-2013 school year. After today, the girls have a couple weeks of exams, the teachers have a couple weeks of grading, and then summer begins. Normally, this time of year already feels like summer with heat and humidity, but that was last week; this week has been cold and rainy and not in the least bit summery. The weather, however, has not altered students’ off-task behavior over the last few days. Some of them have been counting down to summer since the first day of school! I teach freshmen and juniors, which means I have interacted with every grade in the school at some point. Watching my students grow is one of the most rewarding aspects of what I do.

Put the yearbooks away. We still have learning to do. The teachers used to chastise and we rolled our eyes; now I chastise and my students roll their eyes, sneak yearbooks behind their notebooks, and flip through pages under their desks. Have a great summer! Love you! I’ll miss you! I can’t wait to get to know you better next year.

The last day of school, though, has always been an emotionally turbulent day for me. I’ve always enjoyed school, and still do. My friends and I used to sit around and talk about how excited we were for summer, but we were also awfully nostalgic when we had the last class in a certain room, or of a certain subject, or with a certain teacher. When push came to shove, the last day of school was bittersweet. And by the middle of August, we’d all had enough of our summer jobs and enough of sitting around and were ready to go back to school. School was where our friends were and where our favorite teachers were. Our sports, activities, and clubs were at school; in many ways, school became home and life until our home-school lives were so closely intertwined that when high school ended, we didn’t know who we were supposed to be.

Keep in touch, okay? Good luck in college, you’ll be great! You are one of the nicest people I have ever met. Here’s my number; text me. Summer time, woo!

So today, my students will say goodbye to what has been the norm for the past ten months. When they look back on this year, they’ll remember some teachers, some assignments, some special days, and some experiences. They might remember who they sat next to in each class, or at lunch, or an inside joke with a lost meaning. What will make the biggest difference, though, is not lunch table politics, late homework, or a perfect essay, but the people they meet along the way. Wherever they are, wherever they go, and whoever they become, I wish them all the best.

Will you sign my yearbook?