This week I started my observations with Ms. Johnson's 4th grade class. I'll be with them once a week and I'll teach them at least 8 lessons. I'm so excited. The school that I'm in has fourth graders go to two different classes. Ms. Johnson teaches math and science, and Ms. Rodriquez teaches the reading and social studies. So essentially I have to classes, the 4-1s and the 4-2s, but I will only spend about 20 minutes with the 2's each week. I think that this set up is my dream job. I would absolutely love only teaching math and science to 4th or 5th graders.
The students in my class are wonderful...of course, I've only been with them once. My opinion could change after they get to know me and start acting more like themselves. We'll see in a couple of weeks. When I first got there Miss Johnson let them all ask me questions. It was crazy to see how different they all were just in the questions they asked. I got questions from "What's your favorite color?" to, "Have you ever kissed a boy?" It was fun though and through this I learned most of the 4-1's names. I'll probably never leave the 2's. Oh well.
Something happened while I was there that essentially made me more determine to be a teacher. It showed me what it is I like about being in a classroom. My students are learning multiplication right now, and so they were doing a facts sheet. Facts sheets have 100 multiplication problems on them and the students are timed to see how well they can do. They just recently started doing these like last week and they all keep a progress chart so they can visually see how much they've improved since the last test. After grading their papers, Ms. Johnson asked who had improved. One boy, Avery, improved drastically since the last time they had done it. He raised his hand and had a huge smile on his face. Ms. Johnson walked over to look at his paper and her jaw just dropped. She went through and graded it really fast and found that yes, he really had only missed 19 of them. She immediately hugged him and both were just there smiling for a while. Later, Ms. Johnson told me that on tuesday, two days before, when he had last done it, he had missed 82. She said that was the biggest improvement over two days she had ever seen. She then asked Avery what he had been doing and he said he'd just been studying a lot at home and doing flashcards and stuff.
The point is, I really enjoyed that moment when I saw Avery's face light up because he had done so good. I could actually see how proud of himself he was and how proud Ms. Johnson was of him. I just would like to be a part of those student/teacher moments that are so profound.
Okay. I think that's all.
-Kristina
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Why I hate my French class:
Over the past few months, ever since I enrolled in my dreaded French class, I have been nervous/stressed/anxious about going. I had been told by everyone who had taken a class with this professor that she was heartless. She refuses to be happy until she has made each of her students cry. Or until she has called you out in front of the class and attacked you for either your personal beliefs or your wrong answer to a question. I was determined to not let her effect me. I was planning on being strong and keeping a good attitude and just letting her hurtful words slide off my back. Well. That all changed Tuesday.
It started like any other class. We reviewed the readings we read, her correcting our mistakes and then we all settled in for her lecture. Her lectures skip around like crazy and so it's very hard to follow and keep up with her fast French and crazy teaching style. But I was doing okay. It was 20ish minutes into class and I had taken a page and a half of notes already. I felt good about what I was learning and felt like I was keeping up very well. And then. It happened. She said, "Quel est la raison pour laquel le guerre civile americain commence, Katrina?" Which means, "Why did the American civil war start, Katrina?" Like everyone else in the room I looked around for Katrina. There are only 8 people in our class and I didn't remember anyone being named Katrina. After a few awkward seconds of silence my eyes settled on my professor. My heart sank when I realized she was talking to me. "Moi?" I asked. "Oui, tu es Katrina." I hesitated in responding that my name was Kristina. And that was when she tore into me. I'm going to loosely translate what she then said.
"Katrina it is very important for you to pay attention during class. It says in the syllabus that class participation is a huge part of your grade and if you don't pay attention you will fail."
She went on for literally 5 more minutes about how I need to pay attention or fail and blah blah blah. Now. Let me say, when I get mad, I cry. That's how I am. So as she goes on and on, I'm getting more and more angry because she is making me look awful, and she is talking to me with zero respect, in front of my whole class. I could feel the tears pushing at the back of my eyes but I wasn't going to let her win. She didn't deserve that. Finally she stopped griping and looked at me for an answer. I replied, in French, that the civil war started because men were fighting for equality.
After making a spectacle about my poor French, she informs me that the civil war was an economical war, surprising me and probably everyone else in the class. She said that people in the North were paying their employees and people in the south weren't. Therefore, the civil war was more about economics than it was about equality. I can't begin to describe how much more angry this made me. Essentially, I felt like no matter how you look at it, the civil was about equality. Even if you look at it economically it was about equality in economics. So, after being attacked and laughed at by her, I quietly went back to taking notes.
About ten minutes later, she asks another question. Which she also directs towards Katrina. Now, if someone is going to give me a new name, they can't expect me to learn it in 10 minutes. So again, I look around. This time I get another 5 minute speech about how I shouldn't look to other people for answers. I kindly tell her that my name is Kristina. She doesn't care. She just wanted an answer. I answered her question...which of course was wrong. And now I can't hold back the tears anymore. As I sat and stewed I got more and more mad and more and more frustrated. I couldn't believe that I was sitting in class crying because of her. I was ashamed and frustrated with myself. Class ended eventually, with her asking me if I was going to pay more attention next week. I told her yes and then rushed out of there.
I honestly don't know how I'm going to show my face in that class again. Please pray for me over the rest of the semester. I still have to go 25 more times or so.
Moral of the story: No matter how much I pay attention, I won't answer a question directed to Katrina.
-Kristina
It started like any other class. We reviewed the readings we read, her correcting our mistakes and then we all settled in for her lecture. Her lectures skip around like crazy and so it's very hard to follow and keep up with her fast French and crazy teaching style. But I was doing okay. It was 20ish minutes into class and I had taken a page and a half of notes already. I felt good about what I was learning and felt like I was keeping up very well. And then. It happened. She said, "Quel est la raison pour laquel le guerre civile americain commence, Katrina?" Which means, "Why did the American civil war start, Katrina?" Like everyone else in the room I looked around for Katrina. There are only 8 people in our class and I didn't remember anyone being named Katrina. After a few awkward seconds of silence my eyes settled on my professor. My heart sank when I realized she was talking to me. "Moi?" I asked. "Oui, tu es Katrina." I hesitated in responding that my name was Kristina. And that was when she tore into me. I'm going to loosely translate what she then said.
"Katrina it is very important for you to pay attention during class. It says in the syllabus that class participation is a huge part of your grade and if you don't pay attention you will fail."
She went on for literally 5 more minutes about how I need to pay attention or fail and blah blah blah. Now. Let me say, when I get mad, I cry. That's how I am. So as she goes on and on, I'm getting more and more angry because she is making me look awful, and she is talking to me with zero respect, in front of my whole class. I could feel the tears pushing at the back of my eyes but I wasn't going to let her win. She didn't deserve that. Finally she stopped griping and looked at me for an answer. I replied, in French, that the civil war started because men were fighting for equality.
After making a spectacle about my poor French, she informs me that the civil war was an economical war, surprising me and probably everyone else in the class. She said that people in the North were paying their employees and people in the south weren't. Therefore, the civil war was more about economics than it was about equality. I can't begin to describe how much more angry this made me. Essentially, I felt like no matter how you look at it, the civil was about equality. Even if you look at it economically it was about equality in economics. So, after being attacked and laughed at by her, I quietly went back to taking notes.
About ten minutes later, she asks another question. Which she also directs towards Katrina. Now, if someone is going to give me a new name, they can't expect me to learn it in 10 minutes. So again, I look around. This time I get another 5 minute speech about how I shouldn't look to other people for answers. I kindly tell her that my name is Kristina. She doesn't care. She just wanted an answer. I answered her question...which of course was wrong. And now I can't hold back the tears anymore. As I sat and stewed I got more and more mad and more and more frustrated. I couldn't believe that I was sitting in class crying because of her. I was ashamed and frustrated with myself. Class ended eventually, with her asking me if I was going to pay more attention next week. I told her yes and then rushed out of there.
I honestly don't know how I'm going to show my face in that class again. Please pray for me over the rest of the semester. I still have to go 25 more times or so.
Moral of the story: No matter how much I pay attention, I won't answer a question directed to Katrina.
-Kristina
Thursday, January 21, 2010
My classes
It's been a few days and I said I'd talk about my classes...which I never did. So here ya go. Now you can know what I do all day haha.
My chemistry class is pretty easy. I was a little concerned about it to begin with but it's specifically for elementary education majors. So essentially we just do experiments and see how they relate to PASS science objectives. Last week we played with liquid nitrogen. This week we had to compare things using balances...pretty easy stuff.
Math for the Elementarty Child is a really sucky class. My professor just rambles a lot and she is strict in what she wants us to do with our classes that we observe. It's like she doesn't understand that we have to do whatever the teacher is teaching for the week. We can't just enter into a classroom and do what we want with it. But that's okay. This class is also really a pedagogy class. Unfortunately, I'm not learning anything pedagogical. If that's even a word...
Science for the Elementary Child is really fun. I really like the professor and I've learned a whole lot in the few classes that I have had with her. We seem to just do a lot of projects in this class too but it makes sense because she is trying to teach us how to teach science. It's also a pedagogy class but I'm actually learning.
Advanced French would be okay except for my professor. I'm really not sure how I'll make it through the semester with her. I think I'll be okay if I just remember that her personal opinion of me doesn't matter. I just have to pass the class. So I just need to stay caught up and do the work. It'll be okay.
Lastly I have Math Concepts and Reasoning. We are basically just relearning concepts that we learned in Elementary School. So, it's inceredibly easy because it's basically just a review. It's good though. I definitely need that review if I'm going to be teaching elementary kids things that I haven't learned in 10 years.
So, those are my classes. I think right now I'm doing pretty good...but ask me again in 3 or 4 weeks and see where I stand.
I don't really have a lot that's too interesting to blog about. So that's all for now.
-Kristina
My chemistry class is pretty easy. I was a little concerned about it to begin with but it's specifically for elementary education majors. So essentially we just do experiments and see how they relate to PASS science objectives. Last week we played with liquid nitrogen. This week we had to compare things using balances...pretty easy stuff.
Math for the Elementarty Child is a really sucky class. My professor just rambles a lot and she is strict in what she wants us to do with our classes that we observe. It's like she doesn't understand that we have to do whatever the teacher is teaching for the week. We can't just enter into a classroom and do what we want with it. But that's okay. This class is also really a pedagogy class. Unfortunately, I'm not learning anything pedagogical. If that's even a word...
Science for the Elementary Child is really fun. I really like the professor and I've learned a whole lot in the few classes that I have had with her. We seem to just do a lot of projects in this class too but it makes sense because she is trying to teach us how to teach science. It's also a pedagogy class but I'm actually learning.
Advanced French would be okay except for my professor. I'm really not sure how I'll make it through the semester with her. I think I'll be okay if I just remember that her personal opinion of me doesn't matter. I just have to pass the class. So I just need to stay caught up and do the work. It'll be okay.
Lastly I have Math Concepts and Reasoning. We are basically just relearning concepts that we learned in Elementary School. So, it's inceredibly easy because it's basically just a review. It's good though. I definitely need that review if I'm going to be teaching elementary kids things that I haven't learned in 10 years.
So, those are my classes. I think right now I'm doing pretty good...but ask me again in 3 or 4 weeks and see where I stand.
I don't really have a lot that's too interesting to blog about. So that's all for now.
-Kristina
Friday, January 15, 2010
Science biography
For my Science for the Elementary Child class I had to write a biography of my past experiences with science, and how that will shape my view of science in the future and now. So...here it is:
“You did not do any work to complete your science project; therefore your grade is a zero.” Those words are the first real memories I have of science. I was in sixth grade and had spent the last 3 months going outside every day and measuring rainfall, wind speed, temperature, and barometric pressure. Because the science fair was in February, that meant I had froze every time I stepped outside to take measurements. After three long months of measurements I compiled graphs, tables, hypothesis and conclusions and turned in my report. I felt a huge weight lift off of my chest. I no longer had to worry about standing outside in the wind, rain, and freezing temperatures just to get a couple of measurements. Two weeks later, my teacher gave me my grade: 0%. At twelve years old I had never received a grade lower than a 90%. This absolutely crushed me and brought me to tears. I hardly even looked at my paper because I was so upset. My mom was more upset than I was and encouraged me to talk to my teacher the next day. I was nervous, and scared, but I obliged.
“Mrs. Wilson,” I said, “why did I get a zero on my report when I did everything I was supposed to?” That’s when she said those fateful words: that I didn’t do any work and so I deserved a zero. I didn’t understand. How could I have wasted all of that time? I argued that I’d been working on my project for three months while everyone else had probably thrown theirs together the night before. “I know that’s not true Kristina,” she said, “Your report says that you just got the measurements off the internet. That’s not doing any work.” I had never felt more humiliated. I did too do work. Did she even read my paper? I fought back tears and told her that I had gone outside every day to take those measurements. She then took my paper back at it and glanced at the first page. Her eyes filled with surprise, “Oh,” she said, “I must have gotten you confused with someone else.” I watched her take her red pen out of a desk and change my grade from a 0 to a 100%. Since that day, I have hated science.
Looking back I realize that such a small event probably should not have changed my view on science forever. But I was so young that it affected me tremendously. Maybe because of my attitude towards science, or maybe because my teachers really were awful, I had bad experiences with science throughout the rest of my secondary education. In seventh grade, my class did nothing but definitions. We had lists of hundreds of words that we would have to memorize every month and take huge tests over. While I realize that it’s important to know what words mean, an overload of definitions will cause you to remember very little. The only thing that I remember from this class is a sentence to help us remember the chemical formula for sulfuric acid: Johnny isn’t with us anymore, because what he thought was H2O was really H2So4.
My teacher in 8th grade was the most ditzy person I have ever met. When asked if she really burned her hair off her response was, “Well, I don’t think so. Everyone always asks me that though so maybe I did.” The only thing I really remember was that there is a crater on the moon named Billy. Her husband’s name was Billy and throughout the whole moon unit she told us every day about how her husband has a crater. Ninth grade was the worst yet. My teacher had taught kindergarten for several years before my class and we were his first secondary class. He knew very little about science and every day we would watch a movie and take notes. We’d have to turn in ten facts that we didn’t know before. This wouldn’t have been so bad except we would watch the same movie for a week at a time; everyday starting over at the beginning. Tenth grade was the last year that I took science before coming to college. My teacher was known for being a pervert and I was not excited to take this class. On several occasions he made me do pushups for talking. One time I refused because I had on a low cut shirt and I wasn’t going to lean down in front of him. His response was, “well we can go to the back corner and I’ll just watch you.” I ended up getting detention because I still refused.
In all the situations that I have found myself not liking science, it has been related to the teacher. Since coming to TU I have really enjoyed the few science classes that I have taken. My professors have been excited about their subject; they aren’t just teaching because they have to. I think that it is incredibly important for teachers to love what they are doing. If the teacher doesn’t show interest in their subject...why should the children? I also think that hands-on science is the best possible way of teaching science. Even though I had bad experiences with science, I always made A’s and B’s. I think that shows that, essentially, it was the teacher that I didn’t like, not the subject.
My definition of science is that it is the study of everything. Science covers so many different subjects and so many different ideas. Since it is a study, I truly believe that a student must actively study during the study of science. This means that students have to do experiments and see things that are happening to fully understand and appreciate the scientific world. This semester I am taking two science classes. I was so worried about this before because I wasn’t a science fan. However, both science classes are showing me the fun and interesting side of science, the side that all students should see at a young age.
“You did not do any work to complete your science project; therefore your grade is a zero.” Those words are the first real memories I have of science. I was in sixth grade and had spent the last 3 months going outside every day and measuring rainfall, wind speed, temperature, and barometric pressure. Because the science fair was in February, that meant I had froze every time I stepped outside to take measurements. After three long months of measurements I compiled graphs, tables, hypothesis and conclusions and turned in my report. I felt a huge weight lift off of my chest. I no longer had to worry about standing outside in the wind, rain, and freezing temperatures just to get a couple of measurements. Two weeks later, my teacher gave me my grade: 0%. At twelve years old I had never received a grade lower than a 90%. This absolutely crushed me and brought me to tears. I hardly even looked at my paper because I was so upset. My mom was more upset than I was and encouraged me to talk to my teacher the next day. I was nervous, and scared, but I obliged.
“Mrs. Wilson,” I said, “why did I get a zero on my report when I did everything I was supposed to?” That’s when she said those fateful words: that I didn’t do any work and so I deserved a zero. I didn’t understand. How could I have wasted all of that time? I argued that I’d been working on my project for three months while everyone else had probably thrown theirs together the night before. “I know that’s not true Kristina,” she said, “Your report says that you just got the measurements off the internet. That’s not doing any work.” I had never felt more humiliated. I did too do work. Did she even read my paper? I fought back tears and told her that I had gone outside every day to take those measurements. She then took my paper back at it and glanced at the first page. Her eyes filled with surprise, “Oh,” she said, “I must have gotten you confused with someone else.” I watched her take her red pen out of a desk and change my grade from a 0 to a 100%. Since that day, I have hated science.
Looking back I realize that such a small event probably should not have changed my view on science forever. But I was so young that it affected me tremendously. Maybe because of my attitude towards science, or maybe because my teachers really were awful, I had bad experiences with science throughout the rest of my secondary education. In seventh grade, my class did nothing but definitions. We had lists of hundreds of words that we would have to memorize every month and take huge tests over. While I realize that it’s important to know what words mean, an overload of definitions will cause you to remember very little. The only thing that I remember from this class is a sentence to help us remember the chemical formula for sulfuric acid: Johnny isn’t with us anymore, because what he thought was H2O was really H2So4.
My teacher in 8th grade was the most ditzy person I have ever met. When asked if she really burned her hair off her response was, “Well, I don’t think so. Everyone always asks me that though so maybe I did.” The only thing I really remember was that there is a crater on the moon named Billy. Her husband’s name was Billy and throughout the whole moon unit she told us every day about how her husband has a crater. Ninth grade was the worst yet. My teacher had taught kindergarten for several years before my class and we were his first secondary class. He knew very little about science and every day we would watch a movie and take notes. We’d have to turn in ten facts that we didn’t know before. This wouldn’t have been so bad except we would watch the same movie for a week at a time; everyday starting over at the beginning. Tenth grade was the last year that I took science before coming to college. My teacher was known for being a pervert and I was not excited to take this class. On several occasions he made me do pushups for talking. One time I refused because I had on a low cut shirt and I wasn’t going to lean down in front of him. His response was, “well we can go to the back corner and I’ll just watch you.” I ended up getting detention because I still refused.
In all the situations that I have found myself not liking science, it has been related to the teacher. Since coming to TU I have really enjoyed the few science classes that I have taken. My professors have been excited about their subject; they aren’t just teaching because they have to. I think that it is incredibly important for teachers to love what they are doing. If the teacher doesn’t show interest in their subject...why should the children? I also think that hands-on science is the best possible way of teaching science. Even though I had bad experiences with science, I always made A’s and B’s. I think that shows that, essentially, it was the teacher that I didn’t like, not the subject.
My definition of science is that it is the study of everything. Science covers so many different subjects and so many different ideas. Since it is a study, I truly believe that a student must actively study during the study of science. This means that students have to do experiments and see things that are happening to fully understand and appreciate the scientific world. This semester I am taking two science classes. I was so worried about this before because I wasn’t a science fan. However, both science classes are showing me the fun and interesting side of science, the side that all students should see at a young age.
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