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During my field placement in a 5th grade classroom, the students are given a daily puzzle to work on. These word puzzles are very challenging; I myself often have difficulty coming up with the answers when I have a moment to look over a copy. The students have about half an hour during which they can work on the puzzle and start another independent activity that they have selected from a list of assignments that are prioritized. As my visits have approached the end of the school year, I find that the puzzles are getting more difficult. I have also noticed that the students do not spend as much time or effort on the puzzles as they did during my first visit. This can be summarized by the following interaction that I witnessed:

Teacher: “How far did you get on your plexer [puzzle]?”

Student: “Not far.”

Teacher: “How many? 3? 4? [Out of 16 or so]”

Student: “1.”

Teacher: “Try to get at least one more.”

It seemed that this student’s approach was the norm when it came to actually spending time on the puzzle. As far as I know, the students had been doing these puzzles all year, so they may have lost the novelty and challenge that they once have, simply becoming one more thing to do. Over the past few weeks, I have witnessed students who spend less than 5 minutes skimming the page, dismissing it as too hard and moving on.

Park Elementary School is a small public elementary school in the suburbs of Pennsylvania. The school is one story above ground, and one story below. In front of the school is a large, well paved parking lot. The cars are not luxury cars, but they are clean and shiny. The building is also clean, and kind of pretty. Walking in, you can see that the interior is bright and spacious. There is a sign directing you to enter the main office first. The secretary who I shall call Carla is well put together, dressed in a floral blouse, some dark jeans, and a pair of boots. Today is Wednesday, February 13, the first day of my field placement, and I am normally supposed to show up on Fridays. 

I tell the secretary that I am from Bryn Mawr, and that I normally would show up on Fridays, but I could not make it the Friday before so I am here today. Carla smiles and accepts my explanation, scans my ID, gives me a visitor tag, and tells me that the teachers are in a meeting. There is no animosity, no rush in her movements. While I wait in the office for the meeting to end, a child walks in. Carla greets him by name, and asks him why he is there so early. Without hesitation, he looks Carla in the eye and answers her. 

   For my field placement at Ableton Elementary, I am constantly scrambling to ensure that our one-hour Friday art lessons are running smoothly.  With four other Bryn Mawr volunteers to help “take over” Mr. Cohn’s first grade class, we are never without something to do or someone to help.  Yet, several weeks ago, during an art project on collage, I decided to step back from my deeply hands-on role within the classroom and focus more on observing the classroom dynamics and environment unaffected by my contributions.   

I am placed in a 4K classroom at a charter school in inner city Philadelphia. 4K means the children are around four years old, which implies that they are pre- kindergarteners. At this point I have visited my site four times and each time we have a very similar afternoon schedule.

I immediately appreciated the acknowledgement of my presence every visit, by Mr. White and his students. My first visit he introduced me to the class and told the children, “Ms. Deborah is studying to be a teacher like Mr. White, and when Ms. Deborah comes to visit on Wednesdays you must listen to Ms. Deborah, exactly how you would to Mr. White and Ms. S”. He then had me introduced myself to the class, which was kind of awkward because I had never introduced myself to twenty-six four-year olds before. I have the ability to interact with the children, allow them permission to do things, and discipline them as well. Although, I prefer minor discipline, such as, asking them to stop undesirable behaviors, in which I just like to remind them of what they should be doing instead of punishing the undesirable ones. When I get there they are just waking from their naps and go straight into independent reading sitting in their table groups. After independent reading the kids go downstairs to gym, then back upstairs to a large group story, which leads to an arts and crafts activity, ending with packing up and going home. Mr. White usually asks me to read the class, the last story of the day before we pack up to go home which I really enjoy as well.

I have found that I learn a lot about what is going on in the classroom from the times I spend talking with students outside of the “traditional setting”. In the after school program we have the opportunity to get to know each of the students and in a different way then their teachers. I don’t know the grades of the students I work with, I don’t have to worry about disciplining 30 students while I work with one, and I don’t have to make sure what I am teaching will be memorized for a test. I feel very lucky in this way, but worry about what it will mean for me to be a teacher in the future.

             I remember one of the first weeks of tutoring we were sitting in a circle asking each student what they wanted to be when they grew up. They responded, policemen, singer and doctor. When it was my turn I proudly told the students that I wanted to be a teacher. The comments that followed from the students were not what I anticipated. “why would you want to be that?” “ugh” and “that is a boring job”.  I went on to explain to the students how wonderful a job being a teacher would be and that we are all teachers throughout our life. They were not convinced. I have thought a lot about this event because it had great impact on me.

Letting the Little Ballerina Do Her Ballerina Twirls

At the Blackburn Nursery School I am working with the second youngest class which is the two to three-year-olds. It is their second semester now and all of the kids show dramatic growth since I saw them at the beginning of last year. They have learned to play with each other without snatching (for the most part) and are good participants in the class’ activities. All except Howard. Howard is not the naughty kid, nor the kid that can’t talk, nor does he require more special attention than the others but for some reason he struggles to play with the teachers or the children.

During his first few weeks back in September his mother stayed by his side at all times and whenever she left she would come running back if she heard a cry. Other mothers also stayed by their children so that they could adjust but to me it seemed that it was this mother having a harder time letting go than Howard.

Last Friday Howard came to the playground where we all play for the first half hour of class time. It was cold but the children were keeping warm by running around the playground. Howard stood there shivering in his favorite purple shirt. I have never seen him  in a different shirt. His mother tells him to put on his coat because it is cold outside. He refuses. Without much of an argument she quickly says that if he puts his coat on, after class she will get him a surprise. A new (toy) car. One he doesn’t have and she knows he wants.