Sunday, February 27, 2011
Seedlings!
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Science Olympiad Needs Our Support
Today was Greensboro's Regional Science Olympiad competition. This was my 7th regional competition, and my second as a coach. Needless to say, I have been in a frenzy for weeks.
The full Wolf Moon was still hanging above the horizon, lighting up our yard, as I drove my car-full-of-snacks over to UNCG. I stopped to fuel up on sweet tea, picked up my Mom (without whom I would never have survived the day), and unloaded crates and bags of snacks, goggles, and calculators onto the sidewalk. For the next hour and a half, I frantically handed out orange t-shirts and wristbands, collected last minute photo consent forms, and directed kids to bagels, room assignments, and impound. All the while, Madonna played on repeat in my head..."Oh, God I think I'm falling out of control..." Finally, the chaos stilled at about 8:55. The kids had all headed out to their first events, the catapult was safely impounded, and Madonna found someone else to serenade. For the rest of the day, the kids swirled around me, competing in their events, eating constantly, and playing around in between.
Although my team didn't come away with any medals, we had a wonderful day together. As we were leaving the awards ceremony, feeling a little sad that we didn't have ANY medals to show for our hard work and long day, my kids were talking. They said things like:
I am so proud of my children. ♥
Science Olympiad has been a big part of my life for years. In eighth grade, I competed on the middle school team for the first time. My best friend and I tried an event called Write It, Do It. The event requires that students be skilled in detailed written expression as well as following written directions. They must possess spatial awareness and an analytical mind. However, the biggest thing my best friend and I had going for us was that we spoke in code already! We knew each other so well, it was like we had our own secret language, where all the words were from English, but with secret added meanings only we could decipher. We won first place at regionals and fourth place at states that year. I was hooked.
In high school, I was privileged to be a part of a very, very close-knit, competitive team. We were like a family. This could be in part because we spent every single Saturday in the chemistry lab practicing, listening to music, eating pizza, and teasing each other. Our beloved coach, Mrs. Keele, was a soft-spoken lady who tolerated our hijinks and kept us on track. During my four years with that team, we made it to states every year, and my junior and senior years we traveled to the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs and the University of Delaware at Newark for national competitions. Many of the friendships I made during that time are still strong today.
I have a strong background in chemistry and astronomy, as well as map-reading, Earth science, and science writing, from my studies for my events. I can navigate on land or use the stars to find my way. I am familiar with the Periodic Table and a variety of basic chemical processes.
My students are learning at an astonishing rate. They can build bottle rockets and catapults that really work, and they are learning to adjust and calibrate their creations to meet specific requirements. Other students are learning to find resources and draw out the important information. They are studying and deepening their knowledge of birds, fossils, human anatomy, and forensic science. My students are building knowledge and interests that will stay with them throughout their education and will influence their careers.
Science Olympiad teams across the country give students invaluable educational opportunities every day. In North Carolina, that may change. Governor Perdue released the proposed budget on Thursday, and it cuts funding for Science Olympiad. It does not appear to cut funding completely, but it does reduce it significantly (by about 15%). Science Olympiad's state funding is only about $150,000 to begin with, so a $25,000 cut will be detrimental to the program.
It seems to me that $25,000 is a small sum for the state, but a very large sum for Science Olympiad. If you agree and would like to see the money restored to Science Olympiad in the final budget, please consider contacting your state representatives (click for Guilford County's representatives. If you, your children, or your students have been positively impacted by this wonderful program, spend a few minutes drafting an email to your representative.
My students will be writing letters after school one day very soon. What can you do?
The full Wolf Moon was still hanging above the horizon, lighting up our yard, as I drove my car-full-of-snacks over to UNCG. I stopped to fuel up on sweet tea, picked up my Mom (without whom I would never have survived the day), and unloaded crates and bags of snacks, goggles, and calculators onto the sidewalk. For the next hour and a half, I frantically handed out orange t-shirts and wristbands, collected last minute photo consent forms, and directed kids to bagels, room assignments, and impound. All the while, Madonna played on repeat in my head..."Oh, God I think I'm falling out of control..." Finally, the chaos stilled at about 8:55. The kids had all headed out to their first events, the catapult was safely impounded, and Madonna found someone else to serenade. For the rest of the day, the kids swirled around me, competing in their events, eating constantly, and playing around in between.
Although my team didn't come away with any medals, we had a wonderful day together. As we were leaving the awards ceremony, feeling a little sad that we didn't have ANY medals to show for our hard work and long day, my kids were talking. They said things like:
- "I'm sad I didn't win anything. I'm going to win next year!"
- "Next year, I'm going to build the tower even better."
- "Even though we didn't win, I had so much fun. Today was like the best day ever."
- "Mrs. R, I made two new friends."
I am so proud of my children. ♥
Science Olympiad has been a big part of my life for years. In eighth grade, I competed on the middle school team for the first time. My best friend and I tried an event called Write It, Do It. The event requires that students be skilled in detailed written expression as well as following written directions. They must possess spatial awareness and an analytical mind. However, the biggest thing my best friend and I had going for us was that we spoke in code already! We knew each other so well, it was like we had our own secret language, where all the words were from English, but with secret added meanings only we could decipher. We won first place at regionals and fourth place at states that year. I was hooked.
In high school, I was privileged to be a part of a very, very close-knit, competitive team. We were like a family. This could be in part because we spent every single Saturday in the chemistry lab practicing, listening to music, eating pizza, and teasing each other. Our beloved coach, Mrs. Keele, was a soft-spoken lady who tolerated our hijinks and kept us on track. During my four years with that team, we made it to states every year, and my junior and senior years we traveled to the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs and the University of Delaware at Newark for national competitions. Many of the friendships I made during that time are still strong today.
I have a strong background in chemistry and astronomy, as well as map-reading, Earth science, and science writing, from my studies for my events. I can navigate on land or use the stars to find my way. I am familiar with the Periodic Table and a variety of basic chemical processes.
My students are learning at an astonishing rate. They can build bottle rockets and catapults that really work, and they are learning to adjust and calibrate their creations to meet specific requirements. Other students are learning to find resources and draw out the important information. They are studying and deepening their knowledge of birds, fossils, human anatomy, and forensic science. My students are building knowledge and interests that will stay with them throughout their education and will influence their careers.
Science Olympiad teams across the country give students invaluable educational opportunities every day. In North Carolina, that may change. Governor Perdue released the proposed budget on Thursday, and it cuts funding for Science Olympiad. It does not appear to cut funding completely, but it does reduce it significantly (by about 15%). Science Olympiad's state funding is only about $150,000 to begin with, so a $25,000 cut will be detrimental to the program.
It seems to me that $25,000 is a small sum for the state, but a very large sum for Science Olympiad. If you agree and would like to see the money restored to Science Olympiad in the final budget, please consider contacting your state representatives (click for Guilford County's representatives. If you, your children, or your students have been positively impacted by this wonderful program, spend a few minutes drafting an email to your representative.
My students will be writing letters after school one day very soon. What can you do?
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I am a teacher.
Every child, when she is very young, goes through a series of phases where she imagines her future self in different ways. For me, my future held many things before I was eight. I was going to be an astronaut, the President, and a beauty shopper, possibly all three simultaneously.
Then I went to third grade. My sweet teacher's name was Jill Daniel. She created so many wonderful opportunities for us to learn about how the world works. Our classroom economy and political system were fascinating and memorable! The class ran like a well-oiled machine and we all felt safe and loved. From that year on, my future was clearly laid out before me. I was going to be a teacher.
Throughout the rest of my education, I was frequently discouraged. My teachers, the men and women I so admired, spoke of the difficulties teachers face. They cited my intelligence, saying I could go to med school or law school. Their negativity baffled and infuriated me, but I was not deterred. I was going to be a teacher.
As I neared the end of my high school years, I had to make difficult decisions about where I was going to college. I applied to three universities and one major scholarship. I endured interviews, essays, and lots of waiting, but none of that mattered. In the end, I was an NC Teaching Fellow, I was going to UNC to join the class of 2006, and I was going to be a teacher.
College was wonderful. Finally, I was surrounded by people who shared my dreams. Even though the frightening bureaucracy was maddening and there were many frustrations, it didn't matter. Even though my eyes were opened to myriad new possibilities - astronomy, library science, and Early Childhood education, to name a few, I was not distracted. I roamed the halls of Peabody with a mixture of determination, trepidation, and confidence that increased by the day. I was becoming a teacher.
In May of 2006, on my fiance's birthday, I dressed in my sky blue cap and gown and joined a river of students who matched the cloudless sky. I listened as Wendy Kopp spoke about - something. I stood, arms linked, with my closest friends, turned my face toward the section where I knew my parents, my fiance, and my best friend waited, and sobbed my way through the Clefhangers' rendition of "Carolina in My Mind". I spent the summer searching for a job and in July the call came: I was offered a position teaching fourth grade in a tiny town in Eastern NC. I had done it. I was a teacher.
My career has been marked with ups and downs, as anyone's may be. I have strengths and weaknesses, as everyone does. I care deeply about my students. and I highly value the privilege of being their teacher.
I am honored to have met Alicia, who could neither read nor write in the fourth grade, but told beautiful stories and cried when her parents picked her up from school without warning to move to Texas.
I am so glad I got to encourage Connor, the quirky little fourth grader with the blinding migraines and the crazy parents, to read harder novels, like Robinson Crusoe.
I still have the fishbowl that Ashton brought me one afternoon, just because he thought I'd like it. It is shaped like a fish. You may have seen it sitting on the hearth at my house.
I loved dressing up with my students for eighth grade prom. They all looked so grown up, and we danced together.
I vividly remember Kasey's tears as she thanked me for giving her a chance to make changes in her life. She is about to graduate from high school and she is a member of the JROTC in her high school.
I still get hugs from Tony - and his mom - every time I see them at school or in the community.
My throat still closes up with I remember Daniel's words - "Mrs. R, you're like a mom to me." He doesn't have a mom at home.
My heart aches for Anthony, whose life is so bleak that he radiated rage every day in my class. His hugs were the sweetest I've ever been given by a student.
I will never forget William, who was confused about who he was, what he was feeling, and whether or not he was loved or even liked. Even though he was frequently disruptive and disrespectful, his humor and good will touched my heart.
I love to hear, "Guess what, Mrs. R?" from Victoria before she tells me the latest exploits of the twins or the baby at home, or what her aunt has sent her from Mexico this time.
I treasure my time with Hannah and Fiona as they return to my classroom after school and on Saturdays to practice for Science Olympiad. I love our gossip sessions and the trust they show in me.
I love that Harrison stops to ask me questions like, "Mrs. R, what would you do if you had to write a paper about an archnemesis?"
I struggle not to burst out laughing when a handful of kids in my homeroom start to sing, quietly and in unison. "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame..."
I cherish the teasing from the ABC fans during March Madness.
I love to high five kids who get the right answer or take a risk. I love their smiles. I may be called upon to be a nurse, a counselor, a confessor, a mother, a sister, a friend, a judge, a police officer, a tutor, maybe even a lifesaver.
I am a teacher.
Then I went to third grade. My sweet teacher's name was Jill Daniel. She created so many wonderful opportunities for us to learn about how the world works. Our classroom economy and political system were fascinating and memorable! The class ran like a well-oiled machine and we all felt safe and loved. From that year on, my future was clearly laid out before me. I was going to be a teacher.
Throughout the rest of my education, I was frequently discouraged. My teachers, the men and women I so admired, spoke of the difficulties teachers face. They cited my intelligence, saying I could go to med school or law school. Their negativity baffled and infuriated me, but I was not deterred. I was going to be a teacher.
As I neared the end of my high school years, I had to make difficult decisions about where I was going to college. I applied to three universities and one major scholarship. I endured interviews, essays, and lots of waiting, but none of that mattered. In the end, I was an NC Teaching Fellow, I was going to UNC to join the class of 2006, and I was going to be a teacher.
College was wonderful. Finally, I was surrounded by people who shared my dreams. Even though the frightening bureaucracy was maddening and there were many frustrations, it didn't matter. Even though my eyes were opened to myriad new possibilities - astronomy, library science, and Early Childhood education, to name a few, I was not distracted. I roamed the halls of Peabody with a mixture of determination, trepidation, and confidence that increased by the day. I was becoming a teacher.
In May of 2006, on my fiance's birthday, I dressed in my sky blue cap and gown and joined a river of students who matched the cloudless sky. I listened as Wendy Kopp spoke about - something. I stood, arms linked, with my closest friends, turned my face toward the section where I knew my parents, my fiance, and my best friend waited, and sobbed my way through the Clefhangers' rendition of "Carolina in My Mind". I spent the summer searching for a job and in July the call came: I was offered a position teaching fourth grade in a tiny town in Eastern NC. I had done it. I was a teacher.
My career has been marked with ups and downs, as anyone's may be. I have strengths and weaknesses, as everyone does. I care deeply about my students. and I highly value the privilege of being their teacher.
I am honored to have met Alicia, who could neither read nor write in the fourth grade, but told beautiful stories and cried when her parents picked her up from school without warning to move to Texas.
I am so glad I got to encourage Connor, the quirky little fourth grader with the blinding migraines and the crazy parents, to read harder novels, like Robinson Crusoe.
I still have the fishbowl that Ashton brought me one afternoon, just because he thought I'd like it. It is shaped like a fish. You may have seen it sitting on the hearth at my house.
I loved dressing up with my students for eighth grade prom. They all looked so grown up, and we danced together.
I vividly remember Kasey's tears as she thanked me for giving her a chance to make changes in her life. She is about to graduate from high school and she is a member of the JROTC in her high school.
I still get hugs from Tony - and his mom - every time I see them at school or in the community.
My throat still closes up with I remember Daniel's words - "Mrs. R, you're like a mom to me." He doesn't have a mom at home.
My heart aches for Anthony, whose life is so bleak that he radiated rage every day in my class. His hugs were the sweetest I've ever been given by a student.
I will never forget William, who was confused about who he was, what he was feeling, and whether or not he was loved or even liked. Even though he was frequently disruptive and disrespectful, his humor and good will touched my heart.
I love to hear, "Guess what, Mrs. R?" from Victoria before she tells me the latest exploits of the twins or the baby at home, or what her aunt has sent her from Mexico this time.
I treasure my time with Hannah and Fiona as they return to my classroom after school and on Saturdays to practice for Science Olympiad. I love our gossip sessions and the trust they show in me.
I love that Harrison stops to ask me questions like, "Mrs. R, what would you do if you had to write a paper about an archnemesis?"
I struggle not to burst out laughing when a handful of kids in my homeroom start to sing, quietly and in unison. "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame..."
I cherish the teasing from the ABC fans during March Madness.
I love to high five kids who get the right answer or take a risk. I love their smiles. I may be called upon to be a nurse, a counselor, a confessor, a mother, a sister, a friend, a judge, a police officer, a tutor, maybe even a lifesaver.
I am a teacher.
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