Gee, don't I feel stupid.

   
Every day I log-in to Blogger to check out what's happening, even if I don't have anything to post that day. And every day I've been HUGELY disappointed.

"What? No comments to approve? What is going on here? I feel so unloved."

And then this evening, for whatever reason, I clicked on one of my posts and noticed that there were some comments.

"Wait, what? I don't remember approving those. Did I do it during a cold medication-induced haze?"

And then I looked at another post and saw comments there as well. And then I looked at another post and saw even more comments (and so on and so on.)

And then I felt like the biggest dope as I recalled that I disabled the approve comments feature weeks ago. So, long story short, thank you, and I apologize for not replying to your comments. I didn't realize they were there.

Hope everyone has a safe and restful Thanksgiving break!

Do art teachers come with an expiration date?

Two of the art teachers I work with are, how should I put this? Losing their shit. Two of them. And this isn't the first time I've witnessed the unraveling of a fellow, experienced, art teacher. Or two. Or three. Which makes me wonder? Do we art teachers have an expiration date? A good-til date? And what is it exactly that makes art teachers fall apart so epically? Our hectic schedules? Our workaholic tendencies? Our inability to take one single moment for ourselves? All of the above?

Why do we put so much of ourselves into a job, a career, that gives so little back to us? Where does the driving passion come from that propels us to get to work an hour early every morning, work through our lunch breaks every day, and stay an hour or two after work every evening? Self-sacrificing seems to be a prerequisite characteristic for becoming an art teacher. That and multitasking, flexible, open minded and patient (although, I often find myself thin on that last one).

Do we set ourselves up for momentous burn-out, or are multiple factors conspiring against us that will eventually culminate with are inevitable self-destruction? Is self-destruction inevitable as an art teacher? Do I have a use-by date? Will I meet my end storming from the classroom, surrounded by a fury of curses, or will I go down in a melting pool of obsessive meddling and frantic busybody antics? Or will I be okay?

I'd like to think I'll be okay and that I'll survive this crazy career I've chosen for myself.

Home, sick.

I used to feel immense guilt about staying home from work when sick. I used to think that my absence would create irrecoverable damage to my students when they discovered that their beloved art teacher was out. I used to think that the classroom teachers would be concerned and worried and wonder all day if the art teacher, who is never sick, was on her death bed.

I would drag myself out of the warm comforts of my bed, force myself into a scalding shower, and drive, in a fuzzy daze, into work where I would be only vaguely aware of the happenings around me and the comings and goings of my various classes.

And then I realized that no one really gave a shit. The students' day still went on as usual, even with a sub for art. The teachers barely thought twice about it, as they didn't care who taught their students art, just as long as there was someone there to give them the hour break they deserved. In fact, the only person affected my by absence, besides me, was the substitute.

I've worked as a substitute teacher for years, so I'm very sympathetic to the subs that come in for me. I try to leave sub plans that are as thorough as possible, outlining all my duties, the location of all art supplies, which students will be helpful, and where my chocolate stash is located. Which is probably why it takes me three hours to write sub plans.

When I write sub plans, I always assume the worst and expect the least from everyone, sub and students alike. Even my best behaved class become little beings of evil. I leave detailed explanations of all classroom procedures. I leave overly specific step-by-step lesson instructions. I leave back-up lessons in case the sub isn't art familiar and isn't comfortable teaching the art lesson I have left. And then, at the end of my plans, I let the sub know that it is okay if they totally disregard the plans and classroom procedures to teach and run the classroom in a way that he/she feels most comfortable with.

Why do I do this? Because every now and again you get a fantastic sub who finds the detailed plans deeming and an insult to their capabilities. I know this, because I often felt like this sub. Especially in the art room. There was nothing more insulting than showing up and teaching a lesson (or showing a *gasp* video) that was obviously busy work. But as a sub, you're expected to follow the plans left for you. There were many times when I longed for this little, handwritten note, on the bottom of the sub plans, "Or, if you're art minded, feel free to teach any lesson you have in your arsenal of lessons you keep stored in that competent brain of yours."

All this being said, I was in such a congested haze last night when writing my sub plans for today that I'm pretty sure my sub will find my plans either a) demeaning b) seriously lacking or c) a rambling, incoherent, 3-paged document that was obviously written by a crazy woman afflicted with fever and a touch of delirium.

Caution: Hell just froze over.

Um... Kindergarten students?

Yeah, you.

My Monday Kindergarten class.

What the hell is wrong with you?

Clay day is supposed to be a fun day. Not a whiny, "I don't wanna" day. Granted, we weren't using real clay, just modeling clay, but it was supposed to be practice for our next art class when we would use real art clay. Plus, it was supposed to be a relatively laid-back, I-don't-have-to-do-much day for me. I mean, yeah, I had to teach you how to make a pinch pot, but generally speaking, clay day always teaches itself.

Except for today.

Because you would be having none of that today. What the hell is wrong with you? Kids love clay. Especially magic clay that never dries up. Plus, it was your very own clay that you would get to keep for keeps! It even had your name on it.

But no, half way through the class, you all decided you were bored and would prefer to read books on the carpet and free draw with colored pencils.

And I let you, because in case you hadn't heard, I didn't intend on really teaching today.

Dear Classroom Teachers:

Hey. Yeah, it's me again. Your friendly neighborhood art teacher. How ya doin'?

Listen, remember back when I opened up to you and revealed that I often feel left out because you all have your little groupie groups, and I'm never invited? Yeah, well here's the deal. I don't really want to be included. Wait. That's not really true. I would like to be invited to an IEP meeting from time to time and to be filled in on what your class is up to these days. Of course, I wouldn't mind being invited to Happy Hour now and again (or at least a Pampered Chef party), but what I don't want to be a part of is all the grade-level/classroom teacher/administration drama.

You know what I'm talking about, right? Of course you do. I'm talking about all the he said/she said drama that breeds in the staff room faster than the bacteria on the sponges next to my sink. I avoid the staff room for a reason. I want no part in the political, tug-of-war/name calling nonsense that often takes place in these rooms (or any room, really, where there are multiple adults and zero children). Here's why...

1. I choose to live my life drama free. This goes for my personal life as well. I refuse to surround myself with people who drag anyone and everyone into every little smidgen of controversy to be found. I find my existence to be much more peaceful and extremely less stressful this way.
2. 9 times out of 10, I have no idea who you're talking about. 
3. I'm pretty freakin' easy going and can roll with the punches. Flexibility might as well be my middle name. I see no point in hashing and re-hashing every little change that happens in the school. Yes, sometimes these changes might get my panties in a bunch too, but then I quickly evaluate and adapt to whatever circumstances I need to. What I don't do is complain about it to every Tom, Dick or Harry who walks by and has the unfortunate luck of saying good morning to me.
4. I'm in it for the kids. I know, it sounds oh-so cliche, right? But it's true. The reason I get up every morning is for the kids. The reason I work so hard is for the kids. The reason I strive to become a better teacher is for the kids. The day it stops being about the kids and becomes a daily opportunity to bitch about, well, everything, is the day I stop teaching. End of story.
5. Speaking of the kids, unless it's done in a constructive manner, I have no interest in bad-mouthing my students. And even then I don't consider it to be "bad-mouthing" so much as it is two or more professionals getting together to come up with a solution regarding a troublesome child. If I come to you to speak about a student, it's because I have a genuine concern about their well-being or their behavior. I'm not looking to have a drawn-out, in-depth convo about how snotty you think their parents are.
6. Nothing good ever comes from it. I mean, seriously. When was the last time bitching ever accomplished anything? 
7. There's already too much negativity in the world. Must we create more?

Now, I can understand what it must be like for you, being surround by the same people day in and day out. I can imagine it might get pretty tiresome having the same conversations with them over and over again. I can also see how appealing it might be to want to vent and/or open up to someone who is out-of-the-loop, so to speak. I get it. But I beg of you, please try to refrain.

The next time you drop your students off, I encourage you to quickly chit chat about how your day is going, and I certainly don't mind asking you about your new grandchild or the trip you just took back to my hometown. I am genuinely curious and interested about you, as a person. Of course, any conversation you want to have about the positive things happening in your classroom or with your students is always welcomed.

And the next time you pick your students up, please keep in mind that I have very little time before the next class comes in. I would love to use what few minutes (or seconds) I have to inform you of how class went or have the students tell you what they learned that day.

Oh, and Specialists? Consider yourselves Cc-ed on this. I know you can be just as guilty of this as classroom teachers are.

Thanks,
Ms. Art Teacher

"This is important, so please listen..."

That was my teacher voice speaking up there, in case you were wondering.

But seriously, this is important, so please pay attention...

1. I've changed my URL at the suggestion of some helpful readers. Please update any links you may have as the old one no longer works (sorry).
2. I've included a link to my email address on the right there. See it? Good. Feel free to use it.
3. I've been asked to guest post at The Teaching Palette! I'm not sure who should be more worried.

That is all.

What's my grade again?

Grading in art is so arbitrary. 

(Scratch that.)

Grading in art is a valid assessment of the students' artistic knowledge and abilities.

(Scratch that.)

I hate grading in art.

(There. That's better.)

I just finished up grading (most of) my students, 1st grade-6th grade, for the first quarter. I have a hard time grading students during the first quarter because...

1) They're still trying to get back into the swing of things in art  

"That's a really cool rocket ship, Johnny."
"It's a dog, Ms Art Teacher."
"Oh... yes, I see it is..."

2) I'm still trying to get them to actually do anything

"No, Johnny, that's not how we use erasers in the art room. Now please sit down and get out your crayons."
"As I said four times already, boys and girls, when you get your paper, you can start. You got your paper 5 minutes ago, please start."

3) We lose a lot of class time at the start of the school year

"What do you mean you're regrouping the 5th graders in 3 weeks?"
"What do you mean we're having another fire drill this week during the 6th grade art time?"
"What do you mean you have to leave early for pictures?"
"What? A field trip already? It's not even October yet!"

4) I don't know anyone's name yet

"Johnny, can you answer this question for me?"
"My name's not Johnny."
"It's not? What is it then?"
"Matt"
"Well, I just changed your name to Johnny, because that's what it says on my seating chart and my seating chart is official. Now, please answer the question."

5) I've got nothing to grade them on. Obviously.

I can't really grade them on the PTA fundraiser we did at the start of the year, despite our attempts to align it with the curriculum.

I can't really grade them on the art work they did the first 3-4 weeks before their classes were restructured around their band instruments/math groups because, well, I didn't have any of these new kids during the first few weeks, the other art teacher(s) did, and, well... we'll just leave it at that.

I can't really teach anything of any importance or significance when half the class doesn't show because they're on a field trip.

And that day I had a sub is out of the question too.

All that being said, I finished my grades (mostly). I struggled through the A/O B/G C/S D/N grading system and gritted my teeth when the barely-above-a-C students received Bs just like the came-this-close-to-an-A students. Not that I'm saying out grading system is flawed or anything...

But, yeah. I totally am.

p.s. Can I just say, I hate giving grades with bubble sheets.

How do you deal with grading in art?

Teacher Workday!

Ah... two days of teacher workdays. Does it get any better? To finally be able to catch up on that laundry list of things I need to do in my classrooms. Lovely.

The past two months I feel like I've been just barely treading water. Just barely keeping ahead. It's a good feeling knowing I can use these two days to finally get on top of things.

Until next week that is.