The great thing about having small classes is that one can give fantastic attention to individual students. The terrible thing is that when 2 students are missing, almost half of one's class is out! That was the case today in Theory (and often is) but I had to start new material anyway.
A student was scheduled for a detention with me during lunch today, so I went to the cafeteria before he arrived to make sure he got his lunch early and didn't stall in some way. While I was there — waiting by the doorway — a previous student waved to me and yelled, "Hi, Mr. Duval!" I waved backed and others noticed, and in almost no time about half of the cafeteria was yelling my name and waving. Talk about an ego boost.
This student's detention went as well as I think it could have. He ate his lunch politely and then we spoke about why he was given detention. He seemed to understand what it was all about and what behavior he needs to modify.
I've been getting the impression that among the students who are in need of a powerful student-teacher interaction, there is a sort of silent (and blind) auction for who will choose to connect with which needy student. There is no way to measure this, and almost as little likelihood of being able to define it, but it seems to me the sort of thing where most teachers will recognize a student's need for extraordinary rapport with someone and then..."look the other way." I put that in quotes because it's not quite the right phrase. If you drive by a recent car accident, do you call the police just in case no one else has, or do you assume that someone else had surely done so by the time you got there? It's a "someone else will connect with him/her" tendency.
Now I sound like I'm berating fellow teachers (and now I'm also rambling). I'm not, because this attitude is, to a degree, necessary. It's simply not possible to have the kind of focused attention I'm talking about applied by every teacher to every student. If I had even attempted to do so with every one of my (in MS only) 80+ students, I would be so overwhelmed that my effectiveness with the students would be diminished. Ultimately, I mean to say that my experience with the boy who had detention today is approaching the borderline between ordinary student-teacher rapport, and the extraordinary.
A teacher's impact on their students' lives is constant and unpredictable; profound and immeasurable; tenuous and memorable.
Op.23 Prelude #5 in G minor (S. Rachmaninoff) - Yuri Rozum
Showing posts with label cafeteria. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cafeteria. Show all posts
Friday, December 10, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Cafeteria Food -OR- How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Fat
Let's talk about food. I've been eating lunch at the MS cafeteria most days out of a twisted desire to immerse myself in the environment and be a visible person. There's a problem; the food is dreadful. Pizza is served every day, and it's bad. Chicken sandwiches come from Tyson (the notoriously evil and I-can't-believe-they-call-this-chicken market dominator), and they're bad. I even tried some "popcorn chicken bites" that were so rubbery they squeaked when I bit into them. This is a mammoth problem for students' health in, as I see it, three ways:
1) Immediate Consequences — When students have pizza and slushies for lunch every day, they are not getting adequate nutrition. Plain and simple. I don't think any of my readers need that lecture.
2) Decision-making Consequences — Students get used to eating bad food with inadequate nutritional value that satisfies their taste buds and their brains. This effect appears to be more than a bad habit, but rather like an addiction. It doesn't take much to realize that even if in the HS students are given healthy options, their habit/addiction from MS will make them extremely unlikely to make nutritious selections.
3) Long-term Consequences — Schools have classes that teach students about proper nutrition. Doesn't that indicate an educational desire to guide kids toward health? An analogy: schools intend to teach respectful behavior, and they understand that in order to do so they must model respectful behavior constantly; it seems logical to me to conclude that in order to successfully educate students about nutrition, schools must model the wisest behavior!
Oh, I almost forgot, schools have tight budgets. That must be the brick wall separating our youth from healthy lunches. Wrong, nutritious food programs can be enacted on the same dime. It's being done in Baltimore. It's been done in Wisconson. It's being done in Pittsburgh. It's been done in Minnesota. It could be done here.
A disclaimer:
This has nothing to do with what I think of the people working behind the cafeteria counter. I have great respect for them and am convinced that they share my desire to see healthy students. I also am no expert on what this particular district's policies, options, budget, considerations, and future plans are. At this cafeteria, there is a salad bar, the meal of the day, the hot dogs and Tyson sandwiches, the pizza, the milk, the gatorade, and the slushies. Somebody had to think of the salad bar, but I promise you that is not where the crowds gather.
1) Immediate Consequences — When students have pizza and slushies for lunch every day, they are not getting adequate nutrition. Plain and simple. I don't think any of my readers need that lecture.
2) Decision-making Consequences — Students get used to eating bad food with inadequate nutritional value that satisfies their taste buds and their brains. This effect appears to be more than a bad habit, but rather like an addiction. It doesn't take much to realize that even if in the HS students are given healthy options, their habit/addiction from MS will make them extremely unlikely to make nutritious selections.
3) Long-term Consequences — Schools have classes that teach students about proper nutrition. Doesn't that indicate an educational desire to guide kids toward health? An analogy: schools intend to teach respectful behavior, and they understand that in order to do so they must model respectful behavior constantly; it seems logical to me to conclude that in order to successfully educate students about nutrition, schools must model the wisest behavior!
Oh, I almost forgot, schools have tight budgets. That must be the brick wall separating our youth from healthy lunches. Wrong, nutritious food programs can be enacted on the same dime. It's being done in Baltimore. It's been done in Wisconson. It's being done in Pittsburgh. It's been done in Minnesota. It could be done here.
A disclaimer:
This has nothing to do with what I think of the people working behind the cafeteria counter. I have great respect for them and am convinced that they share my desire to see healthy students. I also am no expert on what this particular district's policies, options, budget, considerations, and future plans are. At this cafeteria, there is a salad bar, the meal of the day, the hot dogs and Tyson sandwiches, the pizza, the milk, the gatorade, and the slushies. Somebody had to think of the salad bar, but I promise you that is not where the crowds gather.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
9/16
The "kid who did well on the diagnostic test" in Theory will henceforth be known as "kid who's high on self-importance". When I, after reviewing some material, said something general like "does that all make more sense, now?", he replied "I don't know anything more now than I did before class started." Seriously, kid? This did not mean, "I'm having trouble understanding something," it meant, "I'm too important to have to suffer through solidifying fundamental knowledge and participate in the learning experience of my peers." I almost threw a marker at him.
There are a few notable students that I see at lunch when I get food from the cafeteria (I don't have them in class). On the first day of school they said, "Hey man! You look like you're into metal!" and have since yelled "Hey, metal guy!" every time they see me. Last time I was there I asked them for a recommendation, and they suggested I listen to "Pantera." I returned today with a review and I'm now to listen to the band "Down." This is fun. I don't think they know that I'm a music teacher, though.
I did an observation of the "rowdy" class's math class today. That was very interesting, and I now have the great advantage of being able to say, "Hey, I've seen you in math class and I know you can focus better than this." My day of GM teaching today can be summed up in a hypothetical conversation with a personification of educational theory—
Me: Educational Theory, my good friend, how many times must I repeat an instruction before reasonably expecting 20-30 students to pick it up?
Educational Theory: Well, demonstrating something 3 times is a good habit to have, and it's always good to explain things multiple ways.
Me: That's what I thought. In fact, I got their attention quite successfully today, and after explaining things multiple times I had them run through one of the items with me all together, but after that I think only 2/3 of the students remembered what I had said.
Educational Theory: Um......*shrug*
Oh, and I almost forgot, I experienced my first "incident" today — in the last class. As Murphy's Law requires, Mrs. D was out of the room when I was confronted with this event. One [very small and hyper] boy had poked another [tall and burly, yet quiet] boy in the eye with his finger. How did this happen? Small boy says he and the other were "joking around and mumble mumble mumble it was an accident." Burly boy said that the other was joking around with another boy behind him and then a waving hand put a finger in his eye. Weird weird weird. Through discussion with both of them it seemed that no hard feelings were present and no malicious intent ever was either. I ensured that an apology was made. The burly boy's eye was very red and hurt, so he went to the nurse, and I made it clear to him that if there's anything else he wanted to say to an adult, he could tell the nurse. So...that may be the last of this incident, unless we find out through the nurse that small boy is bullying burly boy. I felt really bad for burly boy.
(A Theory student played a choral piece today, but I don't remember the title. Sorry.)
There are a few notable students that I see at lunch when I get food from the cafeteria (I don't have them in class). On the first day of school they said, "Hey man! You look like you're into metal!" and have since yelled "Hey, metal guy!" every time they see me. Last time I was there I asked them for a recommendation, and they suggested I listen to "Pantera." I returned today with a review and I'm now to listen to the band "Down." This is fun. I don't think they know that I'm a music teacher, though.
I did an observation of the "rowdy" class's math class today. That was very interesting, and I now have the great advantage of being able to say, "Hey, I've seen you in math class and I know you can focus better than this." My day of GM teaching today can be summed up in a hypothetical conversation with a personification of educational theory—
Me: Educational Theory, my good friend, how many times must I repeat an instruction before reasonably expecting 20-30 students to pick it up?
Educational Theory: Well, demonstrating something 3 times is a good habit to have, and it's always good to explain things multiple ways.
Me: That's what I thought. In fact, I got their attention quite successfully today, and after explaining things multiple times I had them run through one of the items with me all together, but after that I think only 2/3 of the students remembered what I had said.
Educational Theory: Um......*shrug*
Oh, and I almost forgot, I experienced my first "incident" today — in the last class. As Murphy's Law requires, Mrs. D was out of the room when I was confronted with this event. One [very small and hyper] boy had poked another [tall and burly, yet quiet] boy in the eye with his finger. How did this happen? Small boy says he and the other were "joking around and mumble mumble mumble it was an accident." Burly boy said that the other was joking around with another boy behind him and then a waving hand put a finger in his eye. Weird weird weird. Through discussion with both of them it seemed that no hard feelings were present and no malicious intent ever was either. I ensured that an apology was made. The burly boy's eye was very red and hurt, so he went to the nurse, and I made it clear to him that if there's anything else he wanted to say to an adult, he could tell the nurse. So...that may be the last of this incident, unless we find out through the nurse that small boy is bullying burly boy. I felt really bad for burly boy.
(A Theory student played a choral piece today, but I don't remember the title. Sorry.)
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