drill debrief

After our drill yesterday, my AP came up to me to thank me for not opening my door when she knocked. Apparently I was one of two teachers in the building who remembered that during a lockdown you are not to open the door for anyone. Awesome.

The best part was after she thanked me she said, "You were in your room, right?"

Mission accomplished.

a day!

Today we hung the last hot air balloon on the Land of I Can. That means that every student in our class is reading at at least an A-level. 

Every. Single. Child.

Including our newest addition who has only been here for two months. Crazy excited Ms. Haley came out for a short minute and did a reading dance.

Here's a close up of our rainbow. Look at all of those hot air balloons. Each additional sticker represents the next level of books. Each color of the rainbow represents 10 sight words mastered (red =10, orange = 20, etc.)

on turning 23

Last week was my golden birthday, and it really was awesome.

First, my coworkers surprised me with a decked out room and breakfast. Then, in one of my favorite moments in my classroom so far, my kids spontaneously pig-piled me. All of the sudden I had 22 bodies trying to hug each other and me and it was a moment of pure love. Shortly thereafter, one of my boys, N, started singing happy birthday during a math lesson.

Then, in a fantastic surprise, I got to have dinner in my favorite building in the city -- something I've been wanting to do since I moved here.

Even more than all that, I unabashedly enjoyed having love poured all over me. I got some awesome mail, a beautiful sketch, and sweet melodies on my voicemail, among other things.

Thank you!

drill

We have a dry sense of humor at our school. The code for a serious threat entering the building is actually kind of funny in a non-threat situation.

During our writing lesson today, the code came over the intercom. Usually we have an idea when a drill is coming and I hadn't heard anything.

I had everyone squish into the corner of our classroom. I closed the door, shut off the lights, grabbed my phone, and closed one blind out of five -- evidence of my clear thinking.

As I whispered to tell all of my kids what I was going on, I had to consciously fix my face, relax my shoulders. I had to remind myself that during fire drills, I always tell them to look at me and if I don't look scared, then there is nothing to worry about. My door doesn't lock. Our only hope in a real situation is that we are quiet and hidden and the perpetrator doesn't try the door. I moved the portable whiteboard in front of us. I crouched and thought about how truly helpless we would be.

It was an unpleasant five minutes, but I'm so glad it happened. I needed to know what it would feel like to be responsible for 22 lives, so that if something ever happens the magnitude of the feeling won't surprise me.

terrible horrible no good very bad

This day really has sucked in the most unremarkable ways possible.

grumpy

I am in just the most atrocious mood today. I haven't really taken it out on my kids, thank goodness, but let's just say I'm not feeling very generous towards anyone.

5:00am

All I could think when my alarm went off was, "This is my life?"

Looking forward to the longest day of the week.