everything else

My students are afraid of the library

Posted on by Mark Isero

favicon San Francisco has an excellent public library system.

Too bad my students never go.

It’s not because of what you think — that they don’t like reading, or they think the library is uncool. No, that’s not it.

My students don’t go to the library because they’re afraid they’ll be caught for having overdue fines.

A long time ago — probably in fifth grade, or something — my students didn’t return a book on time, and instead of paying the fine, they kept or lost the book. And now they’re convinced there’s no way to fix this situation.

I ask them, “Do you know how much you owe?” They don’t — because they haven’t asked, because they’re afraid that if they ask, something bad will happen. Their remedy is never to set foot in a library again.

This makes teaching reading or English or research challenging for me. Now it’s up to me to renew my students’ relationships with the library, one by one. It’s my job to get my students to face their fears.

Don’t worry, children: The librarian won’t get you. favicon

everything else

Principal for a day (again)

Posted on by Mark Isero

favicon Today I was principal…for four hours.

The real principal and assistant principal were away at a meeting, so they asked me to substitute.

It was fun. It’s easy being a principal if you have no real duties.

All I had to do was make sure everyone was safe. I didn’t have to observe teachers or balance budgets or counsel students or develop literacy plans or fight for facilities or listen to frustrated parents or do any real principal work. I just sat in the office (which was quiet, by the way!) and did my work.

I wasn’t completely lazy. I walked the hallways, ushered students into class, picked up litter, and set a positive tone. I also had to deal with three minor student incidents, but unlike the classroom, they came one at a time, not everything simultaneously, which made things easier to resolve. The pace was slower, and the work more deliberate, more focused.

Today reminded me of a few years ago, when I served as interim co-principal when our real principal was on maternity leave. That was like today, except it lasted several months. The school ran smoothly. Student and staff morale were high. In many ways, the work was easier than being in the classroom.

Why not become a principal, then? Two reasons: #1: There’s a difference between being a substitute and being the real thing. #2: Even though the classroom might not always feel natural to me, it’s what I do and what I’ve always done. It’s where I belong, even if it sometimes hurts. favicon

teaching

Can I get a little quiet?

Posted on by Mark Isero

favicon I like quiet.

Maybe it’s because I’m an introvert. At home, I enjoy going many hours without any sound: no music, no TV, no nothing. Quiet soothes me and makes me feel at peace.

Then why am I teacher?

That’s a good question. There’s very little quiet at school. Hallways are loud, classrooms are loud, students are loud, everything is loud.

Noise is hard to escape, even during my prep periods. There’s no space to hide. Teachers at our school have to share classrooms. I love my room partner, but when she’s teaching, I wear heavy-duty ear muffs. There I am on the right! The ear muffs reduce sound (by about 30 decibels) but unfortunately don’t eliminate it.

Noise is hard to escape, even during silent classroom activities. Today, during our timed writing, it was impossible to drown out the noise of the middle school’s PE classes. (We share a building with another school.) Shutting all the windows wouldn’t have made things silent; it would’ve just led to more stuffiness in the classroom. Maybe I need to supply my students with ear plugs?

If I seem like a quiet freak, maybe I am. I know that I crave calm more when I feel irritated or stressed. With the end of the semester coming quickly, perhaps my quest for quiet comes from heightened anxiety or a decreased sense of effectiveness.

But I also know that quiet is good for students. On days where there is a calm flow, students are more engaged. There’s more time and space to think deeply. Scattered and jittery feelings disappear, and all that’s left is students’ learning.

There are different ways to learn, of course, and sometimes, it’s good to be loud. But reading and writing usually like a more tranquil space. The problem is, I’m pretty certain that it’s nearly impossible to achieve quiet in my classroom for any prolonged period.

Do you think quiet is important? If so, how do you find it? favicon

reading

I’m not reading much anymore. This makes me sad.

Posted on by Mark Isero

favicon Last year, I read 66 books. This is what my Goodreads account tells me. This year, I’m down to 32.

For a person who likes to read and who extols the importance of reading, that’s pretty sad.

There are plenty of reasons for the decline. Instead of teaching English 9, which focused on independent reading, I’m teaching AP English this year. This means eight hours a week of reading student essays on top of re-reading the books I’m assigning my students. I’m also enrolled in a library and information science program, which means I’m reading tons of articles. Finally, there is all the non-fiction I consume on all my screens.

Although I might still be reading a lot, it doesn’t feel like I’m getting anywhere.

It’s time to get back to Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. (I might be the only person who hasn’t read this book.) Then there’s The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer, which needs to be returned soon the library, and Packing for Mars, Mary Roach’s latest.

When will I find the time?

The answer is to get away from my screens (except for maybe my Kindle) and to practice getting back into the reading-just-for-me habit. After all, as I’ve mentioned before, reading is always the first thing to go. favicon

technology

I have too many screens

Posted on by Mark Isero

favicon I don’t own a TV. My students ask, “Mr. Isero, how can you possibly survive without a TV?”

It’s easy, I tell them. I just surround myself with other screens. Tons of them — far too many, actually.

There’s my laptop. And then my other laptop. You see, one acts as my desktop computer, while the other one goes mobile. Then I have my phone. And my iPad. And my computer at school. And my other computer at school.

And my Kindle.

Too many screens means too much to read, too much content, and too many opportunities for distraction. I’m a walking example of Nicholas Carr’s The Shallows.

My screens keep me connected, but they also make me anxious.

My students love my screens. They text me and get an immediate answer via text or Google Voice. They post on iseroma.com and get quick approval up to the site. They make changes to an essay on Google Docs and get my feedback promptly. They’re never far away from my support.

I like my screens, too. I get to read a lot and keep current. New content comes to my Google Reader, Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, Kindle, email, and SMS.

But no matter how much I organize everything, there’s just too much.

That’s why, during my vacations, I try to reduce the number of my screens and focus on only a few. This Thanksgiving break, for example, I’m getting reacquainted with my Kindle. A Michael Pollan book is the main thing I’m reading, and each morning, I read the The New York Times that gets delivered to the device.

And that’s it — well, not really. I’ve been on my other screens, too, though not as much. I’m fairly sure, though, that my 300+ daily tweets and 200+ Google Reader items don’t always need my attention. After all, I might miss staying current, but at least I’ll be present. favicon