The other day I took a test. It was a test that I needed to pass in order to become a teacher. Since I signed a waiver saying I wouldn't talk about what was on this test, let's call this test the CRAXIS.
In the weeks leading up to the CRAXIS, I was trying to gain some knowledge on this test. I asked people who had taken it if it was comparable at all to the ACT. They said it was. I did pretty well on the ACT; I got a 30, not to brag or anything (that is completely to brag. I probably did better than you). I also didn't study for the ACT. Therefore, I decided I didn't need to study for the CRAXIS.
However, I was informed that there would be questions about theories and theorists, and if there's an area in teaching with which I am not confident, it is theories and theorists. I decided to go online to take a practice CRAXIS, mostly just to see how I would do, not to see what I should study. Unfortunately, there wasn't a practice test for the kind of CRAXIS I was taking. There was a "study companion," though. I figured this study companion could just study for me, since, if it were a person and was my study companion, that's what would happen. It didn't work that way, though. It wasn't even really a study thing. It just told me what would be on the CRAXIS. This was extremely convenient because that's all I really wanted to know, and I certainly did not want to study. On top of that, this study companion told me that the CRAXIS would consist of 90 multiple choice questions, none of which dealing with theories or theorists, and nothing else. That's right - only multiple choice questions. I could probably guess my way to passing it! I wouldn't need to, though, because everything not related to theories or theorists has now become a part of my very being.
The day of the CRAXIS finally came, and I didn't know where it was. I mean, I did, but I didn't. I had the address, but it was in Sioux Falls and I don't know how to navigate Sioux Falls. The fact that I didn't know where it was made me nervous - much more nervous than I was for the actual test because that was just going to be 90 multiple choice questions, none of which regarding theories or theorists.
Another thing about having the CRAXIS in Sioux Falls is that Sioux Falls has a Taco Bell. Now, I've been heard saying that I hate Taco Bell, but that was in my youth, when I was young and foolish. At this point in my life, I love Taco Bell. Eating at Taco Bell was second on my daily goals list, behind finding the place where the CRAXIS was going to be taken.
I found the CRAXIS place (Taco Bell was right on the way!) and walked up to the desk to check in. The lady gave me a waiver to sign saying I wouldn't reveal what was on the test. This was by far the hardest part of the CRAXIS because I had to copy an entire paragraph in cursive. I've written a post on cursive writing before, but I don't think it's on here, which is too bad because it was really good. Anyway, yeah, I can't remember how to write in cursive very well. The study companion said nothing about writing in cursive.
It only took me about 20 minutes to copy the paragraph with inventive cursive. I handed the lady the waiver and finished checking in. I was walked to my computer (this CRAXIS was online) and then left to complete the CRAXIS. There were a few screens of instructions, the last one told me what would be on the test. It said there would be 90 multiple choice questions, AS WELL AS THREE CONSTRUCTED-ANSWER QUESTIONS! "Constructed-answer" is just a fancy way of saying "essay," in case you were wondering. I figured I'd worry about those questions when I got to them. I got through the first few multiple choice questions pretty easily. I was working my way through the CRAXIS, thinking to myself, "Hey, at least there aren't any questions about theories and theor-OH COME ON!" A question near the beginning dealt with a theorist and his theory. There were a few others scattered throughout the test as well. What was the point of that study companion even existing? Do they want people to fail the CRAXIS? Who are they, even? THIS IS WHY I NEVER STUDY! It turned out, though, that the constructed-answer questions were the easiest, so the joke's on YOU, study companion.
After the CRAXIS, I indulged in the deliciousness of Taco Bell, and crossed everything off of my daily goals list.
Showing posts with label teacher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teacher. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
What I Learned in Preschool
Today was the last day of preschool and I am in a glass case of emotion right now. Okay, I'm not, but I will cry myself to sleep tonight. Okay, I won't, but I'm just really sad about it. Granted, I am completely neglecting the memories of stressful nights completing children's portfolios, 12 hour days in the preschool, and all of the times we had a behavior issue in the classroom...
I started out this semester of preschool with much trepidation, frustration, and doubt; I didn't want to be a preschool teacher, so what's the point of me student teaching preschool? I had just done my practicum in a second grade classroom and I loved it; I wanted to be a second grade teacher. I didn't know how to handle 4-5 year olds.
I am ending this semester, however, with fond memories and a full heart. Here are 15 things that I learned from a semester of teaching preschool:
1. "Getting sprayed" in Chicago is different than "getting sprayed" in South Dakota.
Our mentor teacher lived in Chicago before living in South Dakota. One day she told a story of a time when a kid rode up to the school her husband worked at, pulled out a gun, and "started spraying." One of the student teachers didn't know what this meant, and assumed that it meant the kid pulled out a water gun and was spraying everyone with water.
2. If I ever have a daughter, she will be the most spoiled child in the world.
There were some adorable kids in my preschool class. Most of them were girls, and most of them would melt my heart on the daily. They wouldn't even do excessively adorable things. It'd be something like saying hi to me and I'd just melt. Now imagine what will happen if I ever have a daughter...
3. Daily reflections should be done daily, not weekly.
We had daily reflections that were due at the end of each week. Consequently, I would wait until the end of the week to do all of the reflections. Sometimes (most times), I would forget what happened on Monday (and Tuesday (and Wednesday)), and it was a struggle.
4. Snack is the most important meal of the day.
When you have to be at preschool by noon and don't wake up until 10, you don't really have time for breakfast and lunch. Consequently, I would eat at around 10:30 or 11:00 each day. By the time 2:15 rolled around (which is snack time) I would be starving. Unfortunately, on many days, I didn't get to finish my snack (sometimes I didn't get any snack (like one day when we had english muffin pizzas and I had to take a kid out into the hallway because of a behavior issue. English muffin pizzas are a top-three preschool snack, behind only sweet potato fries and fruit pizza. I was upset)). This made for a very hungry and very sad Teacher Joe.
5. Literally anything is capable of being made into a mess.
I feel like this one is pretty self-explanatory...
6. If you sing songs from the movie Frozen, kids will love you.
One day, we played the Frozen soundtrack during centers time. The kids skipped my favorite song, which is "Reindeer(s) are Better Than People." I did not stand for this, and decided to just sing it if they weren't going to play it. I was interrupted by my favorite kid leaping into my arms to hug me.
7. Teachers have favorites.
Well, I have favorites. I felt bad about it, but then I realized that I was never told, in any of my classes, that teachers are not allowed to have favorites. It might be because it's common sense, but then again it might not be. I'm pretty sure there isn't any legislation stating teachers can't have favorites. And it's not like I treated them differently. I just liked them more. ...I'm a horrible teacher.
8. Kids are smart.
I realize that it's concerning that I just learned that kids are smart, but it's true. I mean, like, they're really really smart. Some of the things my preschoolers said were very insightful, and I couldn't have been more proud.
9. If you have crayons and paper, you're gonna have a good time.
Honestly, for most of my small groups, I just gave my kids crayons and paper and let them draw. They loved it. And I could pull out helpful information from them, too, such as what they wanted to learn, what their interests were, and what a monster needs to scare the freaks out of somebody.
10. Kids say the darndest things.
In conjunction with the insightful things that children said would be some pretty bizarre and/or hilarious things. For example, one time a kid told me that he thought I was turning into a monkey because I'm so hairy.
11. Small chairs are inconvenient for me.
All of the chairs in the classroom are itty-bitty. During snack time, it was a struggle to sit. Consequently, snack time was really the only time I'd sit in a chair, except for teacher meetings at the end of the day because I could lean back in them.
12. If I get a job as a preschool teacher, it won't be so bad.
My outlook on teaching preschool has drastically changed over this semester. I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunity to have worked with these children and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
13. Teaching is a lot easier when there are 5 other teachers.
To my co-teaching ladies, thank you and stay awesome. I would have lost what little sanity I have long ago if it weren't for you guys. This goes to all the teachers, not just the teachers in my class (but to them, especially).
14. I make a difference.
This semester made me realize just how much of a difference I can make in the life of a child. One child in particular comes to mind for me. This child has made tremendous strides in development and absolutely adored me. Even kids that I didn't interact with as much as I did with others would surprise me on a daily basis in various ways. I'm not sure how, but I am confident that I have impacted every child in that classroom in some way.
15. Kids make a difference.
Whether it be by a smile, a "hello," a hug, or just something I overheard them say, these kids could instantly make my day better. I don't know how successful I'll be as a teacher, but I know I'll get some enjoyment out of every single day.
I started out this semester of preschool with much trepidation, frustration, and doubt; I didn't want to be a preschool teacher, so what's the point of me student teaching preschool? I had just done my practicum in a second grade classroom and I loved it; I wanted to be a second grade teacher. I didn't know how to handle 4-5 year olds.
I am ending this semester, however, with fond memories and a full heart. Here are 15 things that I learned from a semester of teaching preschool:
1. "Getting sprayed" in Chicago is different than "getting sprayed" in South Dakota.
Our mentor teacher lived in Chicago before living in South Dakota. One day she told a story of a time when a kid rode up to the school her husband worked at, pulled out a gun, and "started spraying." One of the student teachers didn't know what this meant, and assumed that it meant the kid pulled out a water gun and was spraying everyone with water.
2. If I ever have a daughter, she will be the most spoiled child in the world.
There were some adorable kids in my preschool class. Most of them were girls, and most of them would melt my heart on the daily. They wouldn't even do excessively adorable things. It'd be something like saying hi to me and I'd just melt. Now imagine what will happen if I ever have a daughter...
3. Daily reflections should be done daily, not weekly.
We had daily reflections that were due at the end of each week. Consequently, I would wait until the end of the week to do all of the reflections. Sometimes (most times), I would forget what happened on Monday (and Tuesday (and Wednesday)), and it was a struggle.
4. Snack is the most important meal of the day.
When you have to be at preschool by noon and don't wake up until 10, you don't really have time for breakfast and lunch. Consequently, I would eat at around 10:30 or 11:00 each day. By the time 2:15 rolled around (which is snack time) I would be starving. Unfortunately, on many days, I didn't get to finish my snack (sometimes I didn't get any snack (like one day when we had english muffin pizzas and I had to take a kid out into the hallway because of a behavior issue. English muffin pizzas are a top-three preschool snack, behind only sweet potato fries and fruit pizza. I was upset)). This made for a very hungry and very sad Teacher Joe.
5. Literally anything is capable of being made into a mess.
I feel like this one is pretty self-explanatory...
6. If you sing songs from the movie Frozen, kids will love you.
One day, we played the Frozen soundtrack during centers time. The kids skipped my favorite song, which is "Reindeer(s) are Better Than People." I did not stand for this, and decided to just sing it if they weren't going to play it. I was interrupted by my favorite kid leaping into my arms to hug me.
7. Teachers have favorites.
Well, I have favorites. I felt bad about it, but then I realized that I was never told, in any of my classes, that teachers are not allowed to have favorites. It might be because it's common sense, but then again it might not be. I'm pretty sure there isn't any legislation stating teachers can't have favorites. And it's not like I treated them differently. I just liked them more. ...I'm a horrible teacher.
8. Kids are smart.
I realize that it's concerning that I just learned that kids are smart, but it's true. I mean, like, they're really really smart. Some of the things my preschoolers said were very insightful, and I couldn't have been more proud.
9. If you have crayons and paper, you're gonna have a good time.
Honestly, for most of my small groups, I just gave my kids crayons and paper and let them draw. They loved it. And I could pull out helpful information from them, too, such as what they wanted to learn, what their interests were, and what a monster needs to scare the freaks out of somebody.
10. Kids say the darndest things.
In conjunction with the insightful things that children said would be some pretty bizarre and/or hilarious things. For example, one time a kid told me that he thought I was turning into a monkey because I'm so hairy.
11. Small chairs are inconvenient for me.
All of the chairs in the classroom are itty-bitty. During snack time, it was a struggle to sit. Consequently, snack time was really the only time I'd sit in a chair, except for teacher meetings at the end of the day because I could lean back in them.
12. If I get a job as a preschool teacher, it won't be so bad.
My outlook on teaching preschool has drastically changed over this semester. I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunity to have worked with these children and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
13. Teaching is a lot easier when there are 5 other teachers.
To my co-teaching ladies, thank you and stay awesome. I would have lost what little sanity I have long ago if it weren't for you guys. This goes to all the teachers, not just the teachers in my class (but to them, especially).
14. I make a difference.
This semester made me realize just how much of a difference I can make in the life of a child. One child in particular comes to mind for me. This child has made tremendous strides in development and absolutely adored me. Even kids that I didn't interact with as much as I did with others would surprise me on a daily basis in various ways. I'm not sure how, but I am confident that I have impacted every child in that classroom in some way.
15. Kids make a difference.
Whether it be by a smile, a "hello," a hug, or just something I overheard them say, these kids could instantly make my day better. I don't know how successful I'll be as a teacher, but I know I'll get some enjoyment out of every single day.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Suppressed Memories: AP Calc (Michelle Made Me Write This)
I know I've posted about my high school AP Calc class before, but this one is going to be a little different. It's also probably going to be a bit longer. Probably. I don't write rough drafts for my blog, so I don't really know. It's all up in the ol' noggin. I guess we'll just see how much of these suppressed memories I can recall. Also, if you're wondering who Michelle is, Michelle Yordi is a dear friend and former classmate. She's having a rough week and loves nothing more than reading about my suffering. Out of the kindness of my heart, and since all I do is give, I've decided to write an unprecedented ninth post this month.
I know I've mentioned my teacher from this class, Ms. H, before. Let me just reminisce a little bit. I remember, on multiple occasions, she would make me throw my school-issued breakfast in the garbage. "I don't allow food in my classroom." Despite my highly logical and well thought out argument that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and will allow me to think better and, given my current grade, being able to think better is clearly necessary for my success, I still had to dispose of my breakfast. Just think about how unfair that is - I didn't have time for breakfast at my house, so I got breakfast at school - I paid for breakfast at school - and she makes me throw it away. Now I'm under nourished and don't have the brain capacity to understand Calculus, especially when taught by a sub-par teacher. Ms. H also loved to not let me go get a drink of water. Denying me the most essential facet of human life? And she wouldn't deny everyone - just me. I remember one particular instance my mouth was dry. I mean really dry - like the Sahara desert or something. I told Ms. H this and asked if I could go get a drink. "No," was the answer. I asked why and she gave me some lame reason like, "I don't want people in the hallway" or something. I noticed there was a sink in the classroom. "Ms. H, can I get a drink from the sink? That's not in the hallway, and it gives water. Everybody wins." Again, the answer was no. Now, the sequence that followed was when Michelle showed how evil she is. I can almost guarantee that she wasn't even thirsty, but she went up to Ms. H and said, "Ms. H, we have matching pencils! ...Can I get a drink?" Ms. H said yes to that! I wasn't going to stand for that! "Ms. H, are you kidding me right now?! I'm back here dying of thirst and you don't let me get a drink, but Michelle has the same pencil as you, and she gets to get a drink? I bet she's not even thirsty!" Ms. H just laughed. So did Michelle. When Michelle came back, I was still angry. And still thirsty. "Seriously, Joe, you should just get a drink from the sink. Ms. H is busy right now - she won't even notice!" This is what Michelle said to me. She was right - Ms. H was busy. I got up, sneakily, and went over to the sink. I turned on the cold water and started to drink from the faucet when I hear, "Pssst! Ms. H! Look what Joe's doing!" You know who said that? You know who ratted me out? Michelle. Yep. She planned that! I got in trouble for trying to survive. Michelle got a drink and the satisfaction of seeing me get in trouble. It was ridiculous. That's not all, though. Michelle got to keep a plant in Ms. H's classroom. I mean, seriously? A plant? You know what I got to keep in Ms. H's classroom? My D letter grade, and not my breakfast. Michelle gets a plant, and I get to throw my breakfast in the garbage. I don't...I can't even...
I know I've mentioned my teacher from this class, Ms. H, before. Let me just reminisce a little bit. I remember, on multiple occasions, she would make me throw my school-issued breakfast in the garbage. "I don't allow food in my classroom." Despite my highly logical and well thought out argument that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and will allow me to think better and, given my current grade, being able to think better is clearly necessary for my success, I still had to dispose of my breakfast. Just think about how unfair that is - I didn't have time for breakfast at my house, so I got breakfast at school - I paid for breakfast at school - and she makes me throw it away. Now I'm under nourished and don't have the brain capacity to understand Calculus, especially when taught by a sub-par teacher. Ms. H also loved to not let me go get a drink of water. Denying me the most essential facet of human life? And she wouldn't deny everyone - just me. I remember one particular instance my mouth was dry. I mean really dry - like the Sahara desert or something. I told Ms. H this and asked if I could go get a drink. "No," was the answer. I asked why and she gave me some lame reason like, "I don't want people in the hallway" or something. I noticed there was a sink in the classroom. "Ms. H, can I get a drink from the sink? That's not in the hallway, and it gives water. Everybody wins." Again, the answer was no. Now, the sequence that followed was when Michelle showed how evil she is. I can almost guarantee that she wasn't even thirsty, but she went up to Ms. H and said, "Ms. H, we have matching pencils! ...Can I get a drink?" Ms. H said yes to that! I wasn't going to stand for that! "Ms. H, are you kidding me right now?! I'm back here dying of thirst and you don't let me get a drink, but Michelle has the same pencil as you, and she gets to get a drink? I bet she's not even thirsty!" Ms. H just laughed. So did Michelle. When Michelle came back, I was still angry. And still thirsty. "Seriously, Joe, you should just get a drink from the sink. Ms. H is busy right now - she won't even notice!" This is what Michelle said to me. She was right - Ms. H was busy. I got up, sneakily, and went over to the sink. I turned on the cold water and started to drink from the faucet when I hear, "Pssst! Ms. H! Look what Joe's doing!" You know who said that? You know who ratted me out? Michelle. Yep. She planned that! I got in trouble for trying to survive. Michelle got a drink and the satisfaction of seeing me get in trouble. It was ridiculous. That's not all, though. Michelle got to keep a plant in Ms. H's classroom. I mean, seriously? A plant? You know what I got to keep in Ms. H's classroom? My D letter grade, and not my breakfast. Michelle gets a plant, and I get to throw my breakfast in the garbage. I don't...I can't even...
Not all memories are bad, though. One time, Ms. H wasn't in class, and Damian (my friend and college roommate my freshman year) texted her. I have no idea how, when, or why he got her number, but he did. He, Mark, Freddy (more friends), and I were wondering where something was. Or something. I don't remember. Anyway, Damian texted Ms. H, and she replied with, "No texting in class! ;)" Yes, that is a winking face. An important note: Damian had this really creepy pretend-crush (sometimes I was pretty sure it wasn't pretend) on Ms. H, and everybody in the class knew it. Ms. H favored Damian because she didn't know it may have been pretend. So, Damian got the winky-face text and showed everyone in the class. When Ms. H came back, she never heard the end of it, and it was fantastic. One day we were doing something with magazines where we had to cut them up and glue something...I don't remember. I have no idea how it pertained to Calculus, but someone found an article about how the winky-face is very flirty/sexual and gave it to Ms. H. Phenomenal.
That's one good memory. The vast majority are bad memories, such as the AP Calc exam. I know for a fact that I've written about this before, but for the sake of relevance, I will revisit this subject. The AP exam was to determine whether or not I had wasted the year taking AP Calc by giving me college credits if I scored at least a 3 out of 5 (or 6, maybe - I don't really know. I focused mainly on the 3 because I knew whatever was the potential high score was out of my range). The weeks prior to the exam, all we did in class was review. Or, in my case, give one last attempt to learn the material. I grasped a couple of concepts, and I felt mildly confident that I could, with a lot of luck, manage to get a 3. "Mildly" as in "35%." Well, the day of the AP exam came, and I had no chance. I left at least half of the multiple choice questions blank (you're supposed to leave them blank if you don't know because you lose points for wrong answers, but lose nothing (and gain nothing) from leaving answers blank). Then came the free response section. I think I answered half of the questions in the calculator free response section, and I left all of the answers blank in the no calculator free response section. Instead, on the last question, I wrote this letter:
To whom it may concern,
As you may have noticed, I have not answered, attempted to answer, or even written anything down for any of the questions in this section. But do not think that I didn't try, or don't care, because I did, and for the most part, do. To be honest, I have no idea how to do any part of any of the questions in the no calculator free response section of the 2009 AP Calculus AB Exam. I do not even know how to pretend to know how to answer these questions. Normally, in a situation like the one I find myself in now, I would make up work, or B.S. my way through this, but I don't know what work for these problems is supposed to look like. In all honesty, I don't even consider Calculus to be a form of Mathematics. It deals too much with symbols and letters (aka variables), even more so than numbers in some cases, to be considered math.
While writing this, I decided to go back to question number 4 and label my nonexistent answers, because on the problems we did in preparation for this exam, I got points for that. Unfortunately, that is the closest I can come to giving an answer to any of the questions in this section. I consider this a failure of epic proportions. Please do not think less of me for it.
-Joe Russell (Calculus Master)
That is verbatim what I wrote. It took me about ten minutes to realize I wouldn't be able to answer any of the questions, and that gave me about 50 minutes to write that letter. So I wrote it, and then wrote it on a scrap piece of paper so I could keep it. I got a 1 on that exam, and no response to my letter, which was a pretty fitting end to that class.
Also, I just want to say that the reason I did so poorly in this class was not lack of effort. I mean, it kind of was. I started out with pretty decent effort, but Ms. H is a bad teacher. Anyone who has had her before will vouch for that. Sitting through a lecture in which she tried to teach a concept was just sad. She didn't know what she was talking about and, consequently, I had no idea how to do the homework, which lead to poor scores on quizzes and tests. She'd say, "Well, if you don't understand it, come in before class or after school and I'll help you." Firstly, there's no way she could've helped. She didn't know the material, either. Secondly, I tried to come in before school multiple times and was not helped. After doing poorly on the first few quizzes and tests, I realized that no matter how much effort I put forth, I was not going to succeed, which is simultaneously the most depressing and the most relieving feeling one will ever experience. So I decided to stop giving my best effort. My grade pretty much stayed the same, and I wasn't really sad about it anymore. That's about as close to a win-win as you can get with Calculus.
Also, I just want to say that the reason I did so poorly in this class was not lack of effort. I mean, it kind of was. I started out with pretty decent effort, but Ms. H is a bad teacher. Anyone who has had her before will vouch for that. Sitting through a lecture in which she tried to teach a concept was just sad. She didn't know what she was talking about and, consequently, I had no idea how to do the homework, which lead to poor scores on quizzes and tests. She'd say, "Well, if you don't understand it, come in before class or after school and I'll help you." Firstly, there's no way she could've helped. She didn't know the material, either. Secondly, I tried to come in before school multiple times and was not helped. After doing poorly on the first few quizzes and tests, I realized that no matter how much effort I put forth, I was not going to succeed, which is simultaneously the most depressing and the most relieving feeling one will ever experience. So I decided to stop giving my best effort. My grade pretty much stayed the same, and I wasn't really sad about it anymore. That's about as close to a win-win as you can get with Calculus.
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