Amanda Takes Off...

"So, I got this watch for Hanukkah," one of my students explained, showing her watch.

Another student asked, "So you get eight gifts?"

"No, we get gifts for eight days."

"Right, one gift a day?"

"No," she said, "sometimes one, sometimes five, maybe three, it depends."

"You get to open gifts for eight days?" he roared. He looked at me, "Ms, you've gotta tell my mom I want to be Jewish!"

"I leave all religious conversations to you and your parents," I said.

"But she thinks you're a good teacher, she'll listen to you."

***

"Ms, are you Christian?"

"No."

"Are you Jewish?"

"No."

The student looked a bit confused. "Korean?"

"No."

She nodded and walked away. I wondered why she didn't ask if I was Muslim, but maybe she figured three guesses was enough.

***

Ahh, the wintertime. The time of the year when schools try to navigate various holidays respectfully. This is always an...odd time of year. Some teachers throw snowflakes and snowmen up on their walls. Others figure they can put Santa all over the place because it's "secular." Some think Santa's OK, so long as they put an image of a menorah up. I really feel for the music department, although they always seem to manage it well.

Me? I avoid any mention at all of any holiday. In part, this is because religious holidays only very, very loosely relate to the curriculum, so I'm not required to teach anything about them. In part, this is because the students are already going winter stir-crazy and I am trying to keep them calm and tempered and any mention of anything related to presents is sure to excite them. (And to most of them at this age, holidays are about presents.)

Instead, I let the students lead me. I only stop the students if they start proclaiming that what they believe is the only thing anyone should ever believe. At the elementary level, this usually amounts to "each family celebrates different things. How would you feel if someone told you what your family thinks is wrong?"

Otherwise, if they want to make a Christmas card during their free time, I don't stop them. Writing this time of year tends to be centered around gifts. If they want to talk about holidays and gifts, I listen with an open ear, nod, and comment. But I'm honest, too. I don't celebrate Christmas. Or Hanukkah. Or, or, or...

I used to be really afraid of students finding out I wasn't Christian. Somewhere along the way, I loosened up. (Perhaps it happened in Korea, where "Are you Christian?" is a fair opening question and families often practice multiple religions in one home.) I figure as long as I respect all of their religious practices, it's OK. And most students have a sense of privacy and respect, so they don't ask too many questions. And the fact is, I have had other non-religious students in the past, and they need someone to identify with, too. (And of course, I've had students who are Jehovah's Witnesses, and thus are Christian, but don't celebrate Christmas.)

One of the benefits of working in this area is that we have students who practice Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Hinduism in my class. Heck, some of the students practice more than one of those religions.

I was still surprised, however, that "Korean" was a religion. I had to work hard not to burst out laughing at that.

I've seen a few people in the blogosphere do Reverb10. I don't find all of the prompts interesting, so I'm not going to do them all, but today's spoke to me.

Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

I let go of feeling guilty because I enjoy working with gifted students more than other students.

I have known since before I was a certified teacher that I would not stay in the general education classroom forever because it just didn't speak to me. I also knew that I wouldn't do special education because I don't have that amount of patience. But I wasn't sure if I should do gifted ed—what I wanted t do—or if I should work with English Language Learners. I thought that ELLs needed good teachers "more" than gifted students.

Well, I discovered in Korea that I enjoy teaching EFL. But when I came back to America and was assigned that advanced math class last year—I knew that I could always do EFL abroad, but domestically, gifted is where my heart is.

Through taking my gifted endorsement coursework this year (halfway done!), and through paying more attention to gifted students, I've realized that gifted students are the foremost group of students left behind by No Child Left Behind.

Schools are held accountable for these subgroups:
Asian & Pacific Islander
Black
Hispanic
American Indian
White
Other/no response (race/ethnicity)
Free/Reduced lunch
IEP (Special education)
LEP (Limited English proficiency)

Do you see gifted kids on that list? Of course not.

Gifted kids are the ones being left behind in public schools. They are often being kept behind, doing boring, uninteresting coursework. Most of them don't grow one full school year, and they certainly don't grow as much as they could in one school year.

Why? Because the system expects them to "do fine" on their own. Because the system wants their high test scores. Because the system is focused on the "bubble kids" that will probably fail the state tests and drag the scores down. Because the system buys into the argument that offering gifted education is elitist. Because some teachers view gifted classes as a reward given out to teacher-pleasers, and thus actual gifted student who misbehave are ignored. (I got into an argument with a teacher about this last year. "If someone misbehaves, do you prevent them from going to ESL? If someone misbehaves, do you tell the sped teacher she'd not allowed to work with them? What makes being gifted any different?")

The gifted kids need good teachers, too. And while I know I can pull up struggling learners (I have done it quite successfully, according to the standards and measures used in America today), I enjoy pushing the gifted learners forward. If I'm going to spend the next 30 years of my life teaching—or even only the next five—I'm going to spend it doing something I love.

And so the guilt is gone.

This weekend Good Man and I went into DC to stay with Mark and go to the Rally to Restore Sanity/Keep Fear Alive. Min Gi came (Diana was sick, so she stayed home) and we had a blast.

Good Man

Min Gi

Viking Hat

The Three Muskateers

***

Does Good Man See It?

Watch Out!

Run, Good Man!

***

Rally Album

I did.

I met the President of the United States at work.

I'm a teacher. One of the least respected professions in America. ("Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.") And I met President Obama. Without even having to gate crash.

Yes!

I've actually known since Friday that "someone special" was coming to visit. Thursday and Friday the Secret Service scoped out the school. Friday they came into my classroom, which distracted my students, who were studying for a quiz. "Can you come back in a half an hour? They really need to study for their test," I said.

Meanwhile, Fairy Godmother thought they were from the renovations committee and pointed out the dangerous plate glass in our classrooms! Well, we are teachers, first and foremost concerned about the safety and study habits of our students.

After work, Fairy Godmother and I had to give our full names, dates of birth, places of birth, and SSNs to the principal. (See, Good Man, this is why you need to memorize your SSN.) So we knew Something Big was going to happen.

When I woke up, Diana and Good Man and done some sleuthing. "Have fun Obama girl," Diana told me. "You're meeting The President," Good Man said.

Today the teachers all had to park 8/10 of a mile down the street. A bus shuttled us to the school. The students who saw us were so confused. You could read their faces. Why are our teachers on the bus? Although we were dropped off in the back, we had to walk around the front, where we had to flash our badges twice within ten feet.

The front and back parking lots, as well as the side streets, were crammed with police vehicles. We entered the building to find policemen, Secret Service agents, and bomb-sniffing dogs. I later found out that students had been instructed to leave all personal items downstairs.

Wow.

Fairy Godmother and I collected the students who'd been chosen to meet the "special guest." We still weren't 100% sure what they'd get to do, so we practiced how they could answer some questions, and what sort of questions they might ask President Obama.

Finally, we were called downstairs. We were all wanded. Fairy Godmother and I were given fold-over lapel pins to wear, to prove we belonged in the room.

We waited. And waited. The students watched the men in the hallway "with funny things on their ear" talk "into their hands." Suddenly, a stampede of press suddenly entered the room, stood behind us, and started snapping photos. "I'm scared," one of my students said.

"It's just the press," I said, "It's OK."

"Are they like the paparazzi?"

"No, they're reporters. It's their job to follow The President and take photos."

One of my students wrinkled her nose. "Why doesn't he get a restraining order?"

A few seconds later, the President entered the room. "Hey! How are you?"

"Good," the students chimed in the sing-song student-mass voice.

"Good to see you," President Obama said, as he shook every hand in front of him. "What's your name... Good to see you." I watched and winced as my girls gave him dead-fish handshakes. I taught them better than that...

Fairy Godmother and I stood up when he got to us. Everyone laughed for some reason when I did, probably because I jumped up with a goofy grin on my face, but come on! I was not going to sit while shaking the President's hand!

Obama sat down, asked the students a few questions, and opened up the floor. The students asked him several questions (and no, we did not make up their questions for them).

Meanwhile, I was sitting approximately seven feet from him thinking, Am I really sitting in front of the President of the United States? Really?

I was.

And he was just as eloquent without a speech as he is with one. He was also great at putting things in kid-friendly language without being condescending.

And he slouched a little. (Fairy Godmother disagrees. She thinks he was just "leaning." I say he was slouching.)

After approximately 20 minutes, the President said he had to go. Suddenly the students swarmed him. He shook their hands, patted their shoulders, and smiled and nodded as they thanked him for coming.

After he left, someone else came into the room and said the President had brought a treat. Boxes of M&Ms (red, white, and blue, of course), complete with the Presidential Seal on them. Ha ha!

Presidential M&Ms and Proof I Belonged There

Amazingly, not 30 minutes after we left the room, his press conference was over and he'd left the building. Gone were the dogs, the cars, the media, the people toting around Very Large Guns. It was as if he'd never been there. Poof!

Even more incredibly, not an hour after he'd left, my students had calmed down and were back to Language Arts (mostly) like normal.

In one year I have attended President Obama's Inauguration, seen him stumping for Creigh Deeds, and met him in person.

I have now promised Good Man that for the entire year of 2010 I will not once say "you dragged me here, I would've stayed in Korea." As Good Man pointed out this weekend (when we were guessing it would just be Secretary of Education Arne Duncan, or Dr. Jill Biden, or Michelle Obama), if it weren't for him "dragging" me here, none of this would've happened.

Fair enough, Good Man, you get the credit.

Wow. I met Obama!

Good Man was approved for in-state residency today, which means he'll be getting a partial refund on his tuition. The green card just about paid for itself.