It's a struggle being a student teacher. Most everyone I've talked to seems to agree with this. It's a right of passage, it seems. A struggle to have two mother hens in one classroom. I think, at this point, it's best just to accept that we're all almost there, and we're all certainly past the point of no return. So, essentially, it's temporary.
I took the 5038 English Content exam recently. It wasn't too bad. I wouldn't suggest going in without preparing - but it wasn't too bad. It seemed to me that a couple nights of focused studying went a long ways. I will say, when I first looked at the practice test, I kinda panicked. In the end, I just refreshed myself on every term I came across on the practice test which I couldn't remember. It seemed to do a ton of good. There weren't very many literary identification "know the author" type of questions. There were a good few comprehension questions, but there's hardly any way to study for that.
Anyways.
The PLT is next. I'm worried. It should be okay though.
That KPTP's been rearing its ugly head at me, here and there.
Austin Mann said something about "a light at the end of the tunnel" the other day before class, I wrote a poem about it. It's still in the works, let me know if you have some suggestions. The poem feels like its kinda trying too hard right now.
Something to Orient Ourselves Against
We talk of lights,
And ends of tunnels,
And ask aloud,
If they're there,
Perhaps there are some lights,
Which aren't plugged in near the stairwell -
For an unbelievable length of time,
At your Grandma's house,
Classic White, holding out in a hemisphere,
Against floral wallpaper,
Or when you were young-
Green opaque,
Ninja Turtle shaped,
Lets thank our friends and family,
For the comfort we have received,
But no,
Not all lights,
Are nite lights,
Posted 12 inches from the floor,
There to help you, near the obstacles.
We cannot see.
Moving forward, we can't tell where we are,
Like Oedipus, We may suffer our deeds,
More than we act them.
'till the day breaks,
And the room is illuminated and new again,
And you might not be,
In the place you thought you were,
While stumbling with your hands out,
In the darkness,
there are still some lights,
Motion sensored,
Which flicker on,
Once you've hit them,
Useful,
By the time you've passed them.
Brian,
ReplyDeleteI agree, being a student teacher is tough. It is difficult to try to assert yourself as an authority figure in the classroom when you haven't been there since the beginning of the year. Reinforcing rules and creating routines is something that has long been established and now the students must adapt to having someone else in charge. I am glad to hear that your Praxis content test went well. I know that any test that will determine whether or not you've been successful throughout completing your program to start your career is nerve wracking. All of us get the nervous jitters, but I feel that can be a good thing and it pushes us to stay prepared for whatever is coming our way. I think we should try to meet up about the KPTP during spring break and talk about it in class so we all feel as if we are making progress and editing our work, so we can submit it (possibly early, in an ideal world?). Your poem was wonderful. I know that there is a lot going on for all of us right now and the stress may get us overwhelmed but it's important to know there is a light at the end of a tunnel. We chose this profession to do what we love, we must never allow that flame to slowly dwindle into the night. Let it shine, let it shine.
I love the emotion in this post. Your weariness bleeds through your words. So true that we are past the point of no return, yet we could give it all up now if we really wished to. We could pick up our ball (or backpack) and go home. The choice will forever be there. It would be a tragedy to walk away now. It might even be criminal after all of the help we have gotten along the way. I prefer thinking as you said "Lets thank our friends and family,
ReplyDeleteFor the comfort we have received" because we have nearly reached our destinations. Your poem was fantastic! It blends the feelings that we all have of being on the brink of despair and the tentative ambition that is replacing our fear. Great job passing the content praxis test. Didn't I tell you that you would be fine? Not that I really knew at that point, but who's keeping score? I am certain that your instincts and energy will carry you through the last months of your training and you will be an impact-making educator in the years to come. I too am weary, and I have fears of the remaining obligations. The motion sensor lights that you eluded to will continue to flicker on just in time to be helpful to us. Carry on, Handsome Brian. You are already making a difference!
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ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing Brian! I always love reading your posts, they are always so deep. I can definitely relate to not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Student teaching is tough, I like what you said about the two mother hens in one classroom because it's very true. It's hard to establish yourself as the authority figure when your CT has already been teaching this class for most of the year. Then here you are halfway through the year trying to establish yourself as their teacher and as someone with an authority in the classroom. I also like how you included the friends and family part because without any support from my friends and family I think I would be a lot more stressed out than I already am. Everyone in class has also been of great support, I am so glad that I am in this class with all of you. Everyone is so friendly and very supportive.
ReplyDeleteStudent teaching, and teaching, as you have learned, are indeed very demanding. Once you've finished your KPTP, you will feel as if you've seen the light at the end of the tunnel. Congratulations, you're almost there.
ReplyDeleteYou have a great start on your poem. I like all the different images of light in it. As you revise and refine your poem, you might consider cutting as many words as possible to make your images stand out.
Thanks for posting this.