The Unforgettables

“The Unforgettables”
Amanda Walker

As this time of year rolls around and we teachers are preparing to go "back to work" (if you are a teacher, you know why that is in quotation marks), our little brains are on fire. As I prepare for a new group of kiddos and a chance to do better than last year in some way (Must. Have. More. Orange. Ceiling. Lights), I always find myself thinking about the unforgettables: moments and students who have made an impact on me in some big way. My career is peppered with them, as I am sure all teachers will understand.

I haven't been teaching long, 9 years, so in many ways I still have so much teaching ahead of me, but I was teaching about three whole minutes when I met my first kid I'd never forget. He walked in first for "Meet the Teacher" night all kind-eyed and nervous...and he brought me flowers. I am not much of a "flower girl," I'd rather plant it then vase it, but he presented me with flowers and told me not to worry, that he was nervous too. This kid would figuratively take my hand all year and help me get over nerves that I'd thought I'd cleverly hidden. He helped me get up on roller skates for the first time in 10 years and skated with me around the rink a few times to make sure I was okay. His thoughtfulness would span that whole year. He even found a big, patio chair and brought it to me at Open House because I'd sat in this little broken blue chair for three weeks, and couldn't see all the kids’ faces, so I put it on top of a table to see the kids better, which was ridiculous, right? This child invited me to church when I wasn't a regular church goer and he sat with me. I'll never forget that.

I'll not forget the girl who drew dragons, beautiful dragons that amazed me, or the only child that one year to get any joke I told because I wasn't funny to the rest of the 21 there, or the reluctant Harry Potter reader that I may have forced to read the book because I wielded my power over her, and she ended up being a die-hard HP fan. I won't forget the one who wore his lunch box on his head everywhere he went, or how much I totally got it because it was like his thinking cap and no one wants to be without their thinking cap. How can I forget the child that so kindly brought me a lava lamp for my guided reading table because I mentioned in passing that I'd love one, just for fun, to turn on while kids were there? Months later it appeared on my desk during "Teacher Appreciation Week," and I was thrilled.


Did school fit well on every one of these kids? Yes, no, maybe so, but I didn't care about that then, and I can't even begin to now. Would it be shocking to you if I said I didn't remember any of their high stakes testing scores, but I remember all their names: First. Middle. Last - or - Last, First, Middle if you are that teacher? I remember all of them, because as trite as it might sound, they are "my kids." There is this quote out there that says that becoming a mother is like having your heart walking around outside your body, well-being a teacher is a lot like having your heart broken into 25-35 to pieces and they all need an eraser (I'm out) and a forgot their lunch on field trip day. It's bonkers.


There have been many unforgettable meetings with parents, both positive and negative. Moments of much inappropriate laughter in the hallway between me and my Teammates as we lock eyes at some point in the day during a mad dash the restroom, that have to scream, "What are we doing here?" Moments of pure terror when I thought one may have put their face in the electric pencil sharpener, and even that "I am so, so, so sorry" time that I accidentally dropped smoked salmon on the head of student! These moments put a little teacher stamp on my heart, and that is why the new year is so exciting for me and all the teachers out there. It's exciting because the unforgettable moments are going to happen again. They keep happening because school is cool, kids are fun, and we are working our little hearts out.

Well, the classroom is ready...actually, it's not ready because it's never all the way ready, BUT it is organized for a hot minute! It is bright and well-intentioned. The liquid glue is not yet congealed in the caps. The pencils are ALL SHARPENED at one time, and we have plenty of soap for about 17 days of really good, really responsible hand washing. It's pretty awesome.

Yes, it must be the start of a new school year. All that is left now is to make it unforgettable.

It's In The Bag, Baby!

Well, I finally did what a lot of people told me to do and got a Teachers Pay Teachers store up and running (socket). I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what to start with because as any teacher out there knows, WE MAKE A LOT, and then it hit me - Brown Bags. After like, three weeks of thinking about huge units,  integrating subject plans correlated to blah, blah, blah...I was staring at the brown bags on my counter from Publix and thought, "I sure do wish these would go to the compost already" and BOOM. Brown Bag Book Project. Perfect. 

Why is the Brown Bag Book Project perfect? Well, first it is alliterative and that's outstanding in itself.  Also, brown bags are not at all intimidating to young fourth graders who may have heard I am a bit off, so score deuce there. Thirdly, and most importantly they are deceptively simple. Every kid who has ever done this project, loved it. There is some magic in the mixture of that crinkly bag, chalk dust (it's the best medium), talking about their books, hunting down little stuffed rabbits, and pieces of red string that is like downright treasure hunting for the kids. The conversations that I hear them have with each other every single year I do this are always higher order, especially on books that were perhaps a bit above their instructional level to begin with. They think about them critically and pick up on those little author nuances they may have missed on the first reading. This project sends them back to the text over and over again. They stand up and justify it confidently in front of real, live, people. It works. 

Fun side note: Brown Bags also lend themselves to a certain about of secrecy that the kids dig because you can't see into the bag.  There could be anything in their bag, and they loooove that other people don't know what's in them.  It could be a scientifically generated cloud, it could be a lollipop  it could be a flame thrower - who knows? They get a kick out of pulling the items out and then wait for it....sequencing them and explaining their symbolism and how they relate to the theme of the book. That's right, uh huh.  

Well, after about an hour of reformatting the thing so that it was easy on the eyes and updating some information on it. I got it uploaded! All by myself, ya'll! My super technologically advanced husband was not even in the house. He was taking out the aforementioned brown bags, which I then went and got back and put it in my summer teacher bag: A.K.A. The Void Everything That Might Get Used Somehow Ever In The Classroom Bag while I chastised myself for not saving them all summer long. 

All in all, I'm excited the first thing is out there because...it's done. I've done it once and it was easy peesie lemon squeezie. Truth be told it is actually better than it was before I first sat down with it, and updated for Common Core (dun, dun, dun).  It's ready for my new kiddos, too and that is a plus.  Also, now I know the system and can work on some other TPT projects. I like challenges, and I like sharing. 

As I see it I've got one "in the bag" for 2013-2014. 

Whoop. Crinkle, Whoop.

.http://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Store/Amanda-Walker-2541

It's all I got, but it's free!

I'm Only Looking At The Pictures

As the proud daughter of a Librarian and teacher, I have been exposed to my fair share of wonderful picture books in my time. If Julie Andrews sung a song about my favorite things, a picture book would be there right alongside sweet tea, magazines, Cody Bears, and Pumpkins.

Here are a few that have touched my pericardium and made me laugh, cry, or think when I finished reading them. These are, in my opinion, must reads for every Mom, Dad, BFF, Pops, Auntie, teacher who is looking for a great story time at the carpet, or any person just needing a kind reminder of the simple joys of sitting with a book and "looking at the pictures." Here are a few of my favorites.

Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak: Ask yourself, why does this book still thrive and excite 50 years after it was published? Our answers will all probably be very different, but my opinion is that we might want to be King for a little while, but at the end of the day it sure is good to know that Momma made dinner and it is waiting for us "still...hot" back at the crib.  Max is a wild boy to be sure, but he learns that if he stares a beast in the eye without blinking once that his bravery may earn him a minion or two. Smart kiddo, and way to reel in the servants and all, but still this King knows he needs his Mother!  This book makes me think of the days of being wild, and young, and somewhat free and knowing that home was the place where my wildness could just rest for a spell before I threw my shoes back off and went outside to live feral. Comforting, right?

Owl Moon by Jane Yolen: This book is the one to sit down with on the first really cold day of the year (Floridians, you will only have the one day). You know it. The one where you make tea from the kettle not the microwave, light the "first fire", and wear warm socks all day. The first "Winter Snuggle Day". This book is really written like a poem, and the figurative language used in it is none other than masterful. Reading it aloud makes the whole world quieter, and the sound of owl's wings can be heard with every breath. The little girl out on her first owl moon with her grandfather is so full of longing and the reader waits just as she does to hear the first "Whooo Whooo" of the Great Horned Owl. That little girl is really in all of us who have ever waited for and wanted something then received it unexpectedly. That child is fa-rezzing but the cold doesn't matter to her and she makes her own heat and almost smiles in the end. That almost smile is my very favorite part. 

Edwina,  The Dinosaur That Didn't Know She Was Extinct by Mo Willems: I love Mo Willems. I love everything he has ever written, but I chose this one because in this book a Tyrannosaurs Rex who does not know she is extinct, goes around town with her purse in hand helping old ladies cross the street, and makes chocolate chip cookies for everyone! As a reader, I am entranced! Of course a dinosaur is baking chocolate chip cookies, but then we meet Reginald Vonhoobiedoobie, and he does not believe she can be here doing all these wonderful things because she is extinct for crying out loud. This book deftly touches on how our perceptions of the way that we think things should be get in the way of us just accepting things for the way they are and how that can really stop us from being happy about it. Edwina, despite being targeted mercilessly by this boy the whole book, is kind to him anyway and in the end he doesn't care she is extinct. She has listened to him, and he loves her for it. Mo Willems is only second to the Good Doctor in my opinion and I have taught from his books since the first Pigeon wanted...something and Piggie and Elephant became BFF. If you cannot stand one more Dr. Seuss book, pick up one of his. They are the bee's knees. 

No, David! by David Shannon: There are days when I want to be young again, don't you? Well, not if you are David. That poor boy, I know wherever he is, has been in trouble all day with his Mother for EVERYTHING. I am a parent, and there are some days when I feel like "No" is all that I say. The first time I read this book I cried the ugly cry on the very last page. After a whole day of unintentionally breaking every valuable thing in the house just because he was imagining himself as a professional baseball player or swaggering pirate, his Mother pulled him close and said, "Yes, David. I love you". If those words do not stop you in your tracks and make you think of every stupid thing you have ever done but your Momma forgave you for because she loves you, you may need to check for your soul, because...heartbreak! That day was a day where an intentional decision was made by me to temper what I say to my children with my love for them even if I am about to blow the proverbial gasket.  I've read many a "parenting book" and not come away with that strong a realization. 

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein: This book is so inspired and wonderful that I won't even be able to write about it without tears. From the illustrations with M.E. and T. carved into the trunk of this tree who loves a boy, to the pictures of her being brought to nothing but a tall stump, every part of this book...matters. The boy is really a metaphor for us all.  We grow up and away. We want money. We want a house. We want to marry a hot guy, wait...just me? Well, then somehow we circle back around at the end of our lives to just needing a place to rest and someone who is willing, even after all we have done to them,  to be that rest. I have read this book to every class I have ever taught on the first and last day of school and asked them, "Do you want to be the boy or the tree?" I ask myself it, too. All the time. The boy and his selfishness sticks with me.  We are all the boy inherently, but should work to be more like the tree in the book. The world would be changed if people were trees, people! Can we really give of ourselves, selflessly to those we love and not expect anything in return but the other person's happiness? That is hard, and it is real. There are people who are gone from this world that I really wish I could have spoken to or just smiled at, and they can be listed on one hand. Shel Silverstein would be one of them. 

A picture book might seem like child's play to some people. But to those people I would only say, what is wrong with that? Playtime is fun. Play teaches us things. Play makes us happy.

What picture books have stuck with you and made a deep, lasting impression? I would love for you to tell me about them! Happy reading, and "goodnight moon."

A Word Fitly Spoken with Ryan Gosling

"Duality: the quantum-mechanical property of being regarded as both a wave and a particle." I have no idea what that means,ya'll,  but wave is part of it so I know it applies to me somehow. I have accepted my duality as an educator because, well...I just don't know any other way to be.

The inspiration for his blog came in a person walking into my room last week and looking at a very nice plaque (you know the kind where it says really something beautiful and poetic that makes you think about your life...those ones) next to a picture of a very nice cross-stitched picture of Ryan Gosling, and they mentioned that they were struck by those two things being placed side by side on my desk. They said, "Well, that says something about you." I hadn't thought of it until she'd said it, but it does. I love beautiful writing and believe wholeheartedly in the power of "a word fitly spoken" being "like apples of gold in settings of silver"...really, I do! I hardly even know what it is saying, but I love it so much I can barely stand that I didn't come up with it! It speaks to me and it makes me choose my words carefully, but I also love a good Ryan Gosling meme in the morning to give me a chuckle, especially the ones about education. I know I am biased, but they are the most hilarious. It is my duality on a desk, folks.  This encounter was someone else commenting on what a lot of people have said to me in the course of my career about my personality extremes at work in the classroom.

"Hey Girl, I know you love inspirational messages on plaques. 

So I wrote you a few myself and called it "The Notebook". 

For instance, I am a documenter. It's sort of like a dementor, but I only really torture myself. I save EVERYTHING from the (death by) Power Point slides I show students, to examples of student work. My binder that has EVERYTHING in it is a huge 4 inch that I have to wear an ace bandage to open because it is so full and it is January, so I will need two this year. My documenting can really only be rivaled by my Classroom DJ skills as I have play lists saved on my computer for EVERYTHING from Luau music to songs about St. Augustine, Florida. People are struck by the depth of both of these collections, shall I say, but they are glimpses into the two very different parts of my personality that speak to who I am as an educator. The documentation is there to prove that I am doing my job and making every attempt to be "highly effective" at it, but the music is there so that my students know that Mrs. Walker knows how to get her groove on, and will do so if Bon Jovi comes on to teach us about metaphorical language through song. "Tommy used to work on the docks!" Let's talk about theme, kids!

Last year, at the end of the school year I had the kids fill out report cards on me. I was not particularly scared about what some kids would say, but a child that I felt like I had just not been able to get through to like I wanted to, filled out her report card about the most memorable thing that she had learned that year, and she wrote, "I learned that my teacher will dress up and embarrass herself to make money." Pause, hold on... wait, don't go there....in the words of Inigo Montoya, "Let me s'plain...there is not time...let me sum up..."a team of kids I was an Odyssey of the Mind Coach for, was headed to a Florida competition, and we were trying to raise funds to go so I participated in "Teacher Torture" where students would put money in a jar for a teacher to get tortured for the day. Yes, I was chosen for this esteemed honor and my torture was to dress as a baby for the day, and that I was only allowed to use "baby words" all day long. Now, my kids thought this was torture, but nay, how wrong they were! That day I wore jammies to school, passed random students all day long and said "HI,HI,HI,HI" repeatedly to freak them out, and I even got to throw a tantrum on the morning announcements. It. was. beautiful. I called this student over and asked her why that was so memorable and her answer was simple. "That you'd do that for us."  I ugly cried the ugly cry because as a teacher we do a lot in private that we know is for our students, but it is not always evident to them, or their parents, or the legislature, or anyone else that we are doing it. For whatever reason, the day I was a baby for money is what got through to that girl that I'd do pretty much anything to be the very best teacher she ever had. There again is my duality. I spent that whole week coming up with highly integrated, high level of complexity, differentiated  instruction, but it was my willingness to wear a onesie in public (and to the grocery store, but that is another story) that meant something to a child. There is something wonderful and simple about that. That was a day where being both a wave and a particle made an unexpected difference to a kid.

Best. Day. Ever. 

Back to my desk decor. More children have asked me why Ryan Gosling is on my desk then have asked me why a Justin Beiber song is in the middle of their Writing Music (all classical, calming, beautiful) play list, but the answer is, "To get your attention and give you a non-verbal signal to stop and proofread right then what you have already written." It works, and to this day kids still think about checking their writing when they hear "Baby, baby, baby, ohhhhhhhhh...." I cannot say if this is a good or bad thing, but at least they remember something from this classroom.

Whatever works, right?

I Might Be Bad At This - but Michael Jackson "Bad" - so It Might Be Good

Hello, World. I'm Amanda.  What's your name?

Ahhh.....writing mistakes. Yikes! Who would know I teach this stuff for a living, eh?

Well, World. Why am I here (there goes another writing mistake - this is hard...I'm no good at this...) you may ask? There are a lot of teaching blogs out there and many I have followed and just thought, "I could add something to that", or "I've had the same experience", or "PUT THAT DOWN!"...oh, wait that was what I just had to say in a completely calm town of voice, not at all raised, to my two children ages 6 and 4 and 11/12. Sorry, about that and onward.

I guess at the core of this little venture is that I am at a precipice of sorts. At a crossroad, a fork in the road, a place of newness, a jaunty space, a not at all having to do with a New Year's resolution to change education by writing about it spot of, well...why not? I have a lot to say. I'm good at typing. I have a Mac.

In all fairness I should say that what you can expect from this blog will first and foremost have to be honesty about what I am doing in the classroom "fo reals". All joking aside the educational system in America right now is hurting in many ways. Don't worry, I am not going to go into it right now, but can we talk about one thing? The acronyms! The acronyms! They sound like they came off the back of a chemists t-shirt (IEP, QUAR, IPDP, SLD, HE< HE< HE,  MY FACE HURTS!) They mostly have to do with teachers being evaluated on a business model's scale in my state. Sounds legit, right? What could possibly go wrong, right?  In a moment of "fo reals" honesty, I only truly know the initials that have to do with my actual student's names <shocking> and must look the rest up on the down low before meetings so I look super smart, professional, and on top of my game.  I am a little preoccupied with a million other little things during the day: favorite colors, untied shoes, did they eat breakfast, will they be happy, productive people, WHY DID THEY JUST SAY THAT...NO, NO, NO, and oh, my "celestial body" - they understand this! 

On here, you can also be sure to expect my sense of humor (some call it humor, some call it...other) here starting with me explaining quickly why I never started a blog before. It begins with my complete and utter disdain for the word "blog" (eh...it makes me twi-itch). It's horrible really, and sounds to me like a bodily function. That may seem silly, but my love for words just got in the way of me writing all the words.  You know what word I love? Chubs. The word "chubs" cannot be said without smiling. Go ahead, try and say "chubs" without smiling. It's hard, right?  Listen, I'm not trying to be funny when I say that if I did not find a happy, go lucky, it will all be okay, have fun - their kids - after all way of looking at this profession. I. Would. Quit. We all would quit....hard!

I also promise I am not going to get all gushy about my love for children on this blog, though I do read those blogs while I weep softly into my teacher bag pockets, by the way. I DO love children, but I also love glitter and did not choose to work at a glitter factory. I actually love the act of teaching. Perhaps it's the creation of something that moves close to fruition every day, but never actually is finished...like, never...it's never finished...we don't ever finish....or that I get to be creative (follow my Creative Classroom board on Pinterest, ya'll - pluggity plug), and I have always been a creative person - whatever that even means - or maybe it is that I will actually inspire a kid to love learning and keep doing it. I like to teach, and probably always have in some way, so that is why I do it and challenge myself to do it in an authentic way that doesn't leave me wanting to chew the edge of my desk to relieve tension in my jaw. True story.

I am not going to be the "This-is-how-you-make-super-high-scores-on-standardized-tests", girl. I don't like that girl.  She gets on my nerves because I am like that ugly meme character screaming out "You're Doing It Wrong"!  I'm much more of the "Let's-make-fireworks-kids-and-shoot-'em-off inside-the-classroom-with-the-windows-shut-so-people-don't hear-us", girl. Aside: that would be awesome wouldn't it? It would put mentos in cola to shame. Shame, I say! In my defense, this can all be linked to State Standards, by the way, and categorized under "completely mind blowing, impactful education".

So that is what this will be mostly about. I cannot tell you how it will meander about yet because I don't know. I just hope it meanders to a happy place, filled with crashing waves, and open books. That would be the spot for a fine meander, I think.

If that is the kind of place you would also like to be, follow me, and let's make some waves.