Last year we thought our students would have a hard time with SOL testing due to the shootings at VA Tech and the death of one of our 5th graders. In spite of this they did very well and we are now accredited. We are a small school with a somewhat transient student population and this was our last chance to gain accreditation without facing some sort of sanctions from the state. Now that we have it, we are determined to keep it.
So this year, again, the level of anxiety was high. Several of our students need to read the test aloud to a faculty observer. Our principal carefully matches these students with current teachers and then hires subs to cover our classes. We have to sign a paper agreeing to follow strict testing procedures and are warned we could lose our teaching license if we don't follow each and every one. I was scheduled to spend 2 mornings with a 5th grader.
The evening before the first test I noticed that I was needing to "relieve myself" more often than usual, but I put that down to having had a lot of water with dinner. By the next morning, when I had gotten out of bed several times during the night and had a constant feeling of needing to "go" I knew I was in trouble. I went on to school but then panicked. How was I going to sit through a 2 -3 hour test? I went to my principal, nearly in tears, explaining the situation and saying that maybe if someone had some Depends I could do it. (!) She, of course, told me to call my Dr, take care of myself and they would take care of the test.
A few days later one of our 3rd grade teachers came to school after having spent most of the previous evening in the ER. She had developed blood-clots in her leg after the birth of her daughter in Jan. Now she was experiencing the same leg pains. She had been given a blood thinner, told it was only good until noon the next day, and that she needed an ultrasound as soon as possible. She was planning on staying at school until after that morning's SOL test for her class and then go back to the hospital. Our principal told her to get herself to the Dr. She did stay for most of the test (if not all) went to the Dr. for the ultrasound (she's OK) and then came back.
That same morning, one of our other 3rd grade classes was in the midst of a test when a student became violently ill. He vomited all over his test, desk, himself, the wall, floor, and . . . his teacher. The principal came down to the room, the other students (who were feeling a bit ill themselves) were removed from the room. The district's testing coordinator had to be called and informed of the "irregularity". The room was cleaned, the teacher cleaned herself up but refused to go home for clean clothes, and the test was restarted.
The amount of pressure placed on students by NCLB required testing is rediculous and unfair. But this year it really took a toll on the faculty. And we are certainly all laughing about it now! At least until the test results come in!
I have a delightful student who has multiple learning disabilities, but high verbal skills. He has a penchant for getting in trouble and I have a hard time keeping a straight face when discussing his behavior. Recently he was busy talking to his neighbor, to the extent that no one around him could work. After several warnings from me he still seemed unable to control his talking so I took an empty desk and placed it between the boys. My little comedienne simply slid into the new chair and continued his conversation. I called him over and the following exchange took place:
Keep in mind that this is a first grade classroom.
Me: Do you know why I put that empty desk between you and ___?
He: Oh! Oh! I know this one! I know this one! . . . . We're getting a new student?
Me: Nooooo, it was to stop you and ____ from playing around.
He: What? No playing! No playing! OK, a little playing, but not much!
Me: (My face completely turned away from him so he can't see how hard I am biting my lip) Go to your own desk, get busy and stop talking!
I love this kid!
My friend and colleague has a 4 year old daughter (Little M) who just started playing tee ball. It's an exciting time for mom (C), dad and Little M. Until my friend found out that the kids share batting helmets. "My daughter isn't sharing anything that touches other children's heads!" she declared. Little M now has her own, pink batting helmet with strict instructions not to share. The reason? I'm sure everyone reading this knows, head lice.
C and I spend a lot of time fighting those pesky little critters (the lice, not the children). We cannot imagine encouraging children to share helmets. We label plastic trash bags with childrens' names for them to put their coats, etc. in. We teach them not to share brushes, combs,. We know which children tend to have lice and need to be checked every so often. We have even been known to come up with a sudden important errand for a child who is head to head with a "carrier." We do everything in our power to prevent the spread of head lice while allowing students who have lice to remain anonymous.
From my perspective it seems strange to think of an activity where children are encouraged to share head gear. Does anyone else think this is strange?
Several years ago I suffered from severe nose bleeds. They mostly happened at night, but I knew eventually one would hit while I was at school. Sure enough, my nose began bleeding (luckily while my students were at a special) and the school nurse was unable to stop the bleeding. The secretary drove me to the nearest clinic. Because I had a HUGE wad of tissues and paper towels held to my face I could barely see where I was walking. I certainly couldn't see who was around me. I heard a nurse say, "Hop up here, Ms. H". I started to correct her. She had used my maiden name. Then I realized, she shouldn't know my maiden name. I looked up to discover the nurse was one of my former students!
She took wonderful care of me. I was so proud of her. I didn't teach her a thing about nursing. I was her 3rd grade teacher. But at one point in her life, I was "in charge" of her and took care of her. That was the first time I saw one of my students as a "contributing member of society." I returned to school excited and even more motivated.