Books, Boxing, and Boot Liners

Posted on October 16, 2015 by Keely

My kids finished their first novels of the year recently. For some kids, these were their first chapter books. One boy in particular announced to me that he’d never read a chapter book before and that it felt good. Since finishing that one, he’s read two others. Instead of poking the other kids when he finishes his work early, he quietly picks up his book and goes to a private corner of the room to read. I keep pinching myself to see if it’s real.

The first group read The Mighty Miss Malone. They were inspired by the account of the 1936 Joe Louis vs. Max Schmeling fight and created puppets and a boxing-themed puppet show based on their reading and their research. They were a huge hit with the younger kids, who couldn’t stop talking about it for days after the big kids came to their classes and put on a show.

Yesterday, a group that read Homecoming finished their project, a picture book based on the story. They did a beautiful job: The illustrations were superb, and the main plot points of the story were all there in terms that little people could understand. I went with them to the K-2 class for their reading. Terri projected the book and had my kids read it aloud for the little guys. When they were done, she encouraged the little kids to thank the big kids with hugs, and “ask them nicely to write another book. You’d like an alphabet book, wouldn’t you?” My big tough boy hid behind a table when the little people came charging around to give hugs. One little girl looked directly at him and said “Wiw you wite us a book about faiwies?” and his face nearly melted. She was soooooooooo cute.

I talked on the phone with a friend in another village last night. He says he’ll take me camping this winter, which is awesome. Just going for walks here opens up the world and makes my heart smile. He’s talking with me about snowmachines and extra boot liners and wall tents, and I can’t wait to find out what the world might look like from that kind of adventure-place. I’ve also been emailing all week with a teacher from another district who’s taking me hiking when I go to town in November. He had all my students when they were in elementary, and seems to have an endless supply of super cute pictures of my kids when they were small. I often feel pretty isolated out here, but this week I haven’t. I’ve felt downright social.

Sometimes I think
everyone around me talks too much
I think
I don’t talk unless I have something to say

Sometimes I wonder
if I have nothing to say, or if
listening
just wears the words out of me

Either way.

Lately, I think
friends are the people you are quiet with
I think
I can hear our skis swishing in the snow

Lately I find
i have some friends here
listening
who hear the silent mountains too.

They say “Let’s go outside and play”
And we do.

Parallax

Posted on October 8, 2015 by Keely

Our earth science textbook tries to explain parallax by showing two diagrams of the stars: the stars as seen in January and the stars as seen in July. One of my kids raised her hand and pointed out, giggling, “Um, you can’t see stars in July. Duh.”

I about busted a rib laughing. To her, that textbook was just some stupid crazy talk.

Today, after half an hour of bickering and needling and intentional provocation on both parts, a male student pretended to punch the aforementioned female student in the face. He didn’t touch her, but he came within centimeters, and she burst into tears and claimed he’d hit her. Later, in a private conversation with me, the male student, with a grin on his face, called the girl “a bitch” for arguing with him and “a pussy” for crying.

I’ve never, ever felt especially one way or another about those words. Sean, actually, has always been more aggressive about attacking sexist language than I have. To me, those words weren’t any more potent than the unisex “jackass”. Suddenly, though, that anger fell into place for me. This kid was using those words to describe this girl explicitly as justification for getting into her personal space, mocking her, and intimidating her. To him, it was okay because she was “a bitch” and “a pussy” and it was so clearly okay that he expected me to forgive his actions on the grounds that she deserved it. I was flabbergasted.

I don’t know where I’m going with this except to say that I’ve learned something. I see how those words shape and reflect the brutal reality that my students come of age in, and I really don’t like it. I’m the most present adult in most of my students’ lives (they see me eight hours a day, every day) and I want to offer them a different paradigm, but sometimes the obvious eludes me, and communication requires rewiring. There are no stars in July, obviously. Obviously it’s okay to hurt her if she’s being a bitch.

We’re having a winter dance in December. The girls came to me yesterday to set a date. It’ll be snow-themed, and instead of a night full of stars (which was the theme of our prom in May, when there were no stars), we’ll hang glittery snowflakes from the ceiling, sip hot cider, and watch the aurora dance.

My favorite thing about the prom was the way planning and carrying it off empowered my girls. This little corner of the earth needs all the girl power it can get, so I’m glad the prom committee is back in action. Look out, world, we’re working on the sequel!

Weird things my kids don’t know about

Posted on September 8, 2015 by Keely

Hammocks: My hammock has been a source of endless fascination for the kids in this village. They don’t know the word and they’ve never sat in one. Everyone has had to try it.
Everyone’s related: I taught about how humans came to the Americas last week, and started the story in Africa (my ancestors hung a left and wound up in Ireland, and yours took a right and trooped through Asia and crossed the Bering Sea when it was land during the ice age…). The kids stared at me like I’d sprouted horns and said “wait. Back it up. You’re saying everyone in the world is related? We’re related?”
Yeah guys. In a distant kind of way.
Got a tremendous giggle during this discussion when I babbled about poor old Homo erectus. Sorry gramps.
In the book we’re reading, Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt, the protagonist fabricates a story for her little siblings about their parents’ wedding, which, in reality, never took place. When asked why she did this, my kids couldn’t answer. Many of their parents aren’t married, and I don’t think they knew the meaning of the word “bastard,” which so troubled the kids in Homecoming, until we discussed it.
“Are your parents married, Ms. O?”
“Yeah. Where I grew up, most people’s parents are married or were married, then got divorced.”
“My parents aren’t married.” “Neither are mine.”
“Well, for the kids in the book, it’s a big deal. People treat them badly because they’re ‘illegitimate’ or ‘bastards’ which means their parents weren’t married”
“that’s weird. Is it still like that?”
“Some places. Some people.”
Ms. O, why do white people train their dogs so much? And keep them inside?

The grinder is out, which means the whole school building smells like sewage. We cancelled today (we don’t get snow days, but we get shit days), so there are only three days of school this week. It’s too early for a break! I have everything all planned, and I’m excited! Here’s hoping they get it fixed for tomorrow, and here’s some pictures from this golden weekend.

A and little H enjoyed the hammock experience until every kid in the village showed up, and they had to retreat indoors to guard their share of the cookies.

I was sulking at home (nobody would go camping with me this weekend) when these characters showed up and brought instant joy. A and little H enjoyed the hammock experience until every kid in the village showed up, and these two had to retreat indoors to guard their share of the cookies.

This one and the next one go together. I was so happy looking out over the lake, and I felt the happy showing on my face,

so I flipped the camera over and took a selfie. That is genuine happiness, folks.

so I flipped the camera over and took a selfie. Folded up neat and tidy and tucked into that dimple is genuine happiness, folks.

the last of the fireweed in the foreground.

golden

foxtails

color! Also, this was taken on my little brother’s 24th birthday. Happy Birthday Dylan!

Come teach in the bush!

Posted on September 5, 2015 by Keely

Okay, this is shameless, but things are dire! We really need a teacher for grades 3-5. Things got screwy and the job didn’t get advertised, so we’re stopping the gap with a sub, and worrying about what will happen if we get stuck without a teacher and are forced to consolidate (it will suck. Let’s make sure it doesn’t happen). Here’s the job posting (finally) on ATP. The details are a little screwy, but the district is kinda like that. Things aren’t perfect here, administratively speaking, but for the most part, they leave us alone in our classrooms, and that’s something, anyhow.

Details:

The job, right now, is grades 3-5. There are maybe twelve kids in those grades, the bulk in fifth. The classroom is spacious, purple, outfitted with a smartboard, a sink, and big windows that look out onto the playground. There is an ipad for each student, and there are enough laptops available in the building for word processing projects. The internet is a little slow and occasionally unreliable, but you get used to it. Several of the students have IEPs. Special ed services are inconsistent here. You will probably have an aide.

Why you should come:

This place it outrageously strange and beautiful:

I’m Keely
You will make a difference: these kids are desperate to love and be loved, and when they are loved they learn. It’s amazing. If you can love the kids, you can make outstanding things happen for them in a very short period of time.
Hiking, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, any kind of outdoor adventure you can imagine, right at your fingertips, maybe more than you’re prepared for.
I have a big box of board games and nobody to play with.
Great pay, great benefits. Nice, new, warm teacher housing with running water.
It’s an adventure. Few people can say they live north of the arctic circle in a fly-in village.

Fair warning:

The community and the school have had conflicts in the past, and there’s not a lot of trust there. We’re trying, and this is getting better.
The staff is stressed always and grouchy sometimes. This is a pretty hard job.
You will be (unofficially) expected to help with after school activities.
The kids are way behind. They don’t start school with much prior knowledge, and they’re often stuck with teachers who aren’t really invested in them.
Special ed is not readily or consistently available here.
It’s lonely.
It’s difficult and expensive to leave to go shopping or to a movie or just to get some space.
It’s hard to take sick or personal days because your colleagues have to cover for you (there are not really any subs).
You will always be an outsider in the village.

Why you should do it anyway:

Why not? It’s awesome. Challenges and opportunity go hand in hand: here, you have the chance to make your experience into whatever you want it to be, and that’s pretty unique.

Come teach with me!

Keely