Reflections from Airport Terminal A29 and Delta Flight 1678

Relief:

I sit now comfortably in an airport terminal chair, the fake leather kind in a relatively calm and sunny Memphis winter day (weather’s about in the 50s). My laptop (who I’ve affectionately dubbed “lappy” along with my 1996 Ford Taurus station wagon, who has taken on the name “Ruby,”) is sitting comfortably in my lap as I do my normal airport routine: take time to gather my thoughts, wait for the plane, unsuccessfully try not to listen to other people’s conversations, and people watch. This is a task that doesn’t require much multi-tasking on my part, but it’s fun to see that all of us are united in our destinations: most likely going somewhere for Christmas. Sitting here too makes me realize finally the reality of my situation: I’m no longer as green teacher as I was, I now have a full semester under my belt. This doesn’t make me feel completely experienced or even comfortable in my new role, but I’m definitely more adjusted to it and have some great ideas for next semester.

What are those ideas? Well number 1 I need to be more organized. A lot more. I have a good sense of what I need to be doing and how to track my students progress: I just need to do a better job in that tracking and be more methodical. The second weakness I have is still in my long-term planning. I need to have a better sense of exactly where I want my kids to be and what I ultimately want them to learn (I’ve started to formulate this “ultimate goal”…I want them to learn how to read music and understand how rhythms, notes, and line and space notes translate to being able to create music. Now the tricky part is showing them how it’s done using choral techniques). This semester was essentially a four-month long battle of me asserting myself as a teacher, not a goofy looking white guy who smiles way too much and raps in front of his kids. I’ve slowly transitioned into an educator, the kind I like to imagine myself being one day. A person I think of frequently hen I’m reflecting on my teaching is a close friend and mentor, Mr. Peterson my old English teacher. He commanded respect, and I was always nervous of not giving that respect. When my peers failed to give that respect I never understood why. When Mr. Peterson said don’t talk, we didn’t. When he said read silently, we did. These basic instructions, basic interactions are part of what makes a classroom work, and they were lacking a great deal from my room.

So what have I done? Well, after the “field trip from hell” (see previous post) I came to the conclusion with my kids that when I ask them to do something, they don’t do it. From now on, they will. Simple as that. My students now have to earn their privilege of group study, or of doing a review board game rather than a worksheet. From line up to leaving the classroom my kids know exactly what they are supposed to do and get a consequence if they fail to do it. The adjustment period of the first few months is over: they know what they are and are not supposed to do. Had I done what I’m doing now 4 months ago, I think the field trip would’ve been a completely different experience: an experience that my kids deserve. That’s really what’s at the heart of this here: by not being completely in control and disciplined with my kids I short-changed them of the opportunities and expectations they deserve, and from now on it’s not happening again. I wasn’t doing them any favors when I held back sending them to the office for not following the rules, because the expectation became that they could act anyway they wanted under my auspices. As I said earlier: that has started to change. With the new year it will change even more, and I’m pretty excited about it.

The first thing you’re probably all wondering about is how my concert went. For as any things that could’ve gone wrong, the concert went very well. Unfortunately I had about 70% of my class show up for the concert, so a fairly large portion of my class will not be getting a very good grade in choir. What impressed me the most about my kids were the positive things they did once on stage. They sang out, stayed still, and looked and sounded like a choir. I’m very proud of them. The rest of the program went very well. The art auction, while awkward (the art teacher auctioned off two of his own pieces, but the proceeds went to the PTA) netted a nice sum for the PTA, and the band put on a stellar show with a great list of Christmas music. The audience could’ve been bigger, but this is another thing I realized: I need to advertise more extensively for the next concert: The Spring Arts Festival (seasons make naming these things pretty easy).

Another lesson I learned from the concert were the exact people I need to talk to for support in running the food that we offered, donating pop, chips, etc, and a list of more people to involve/invite the next time a concert rolls around. My savior for the evening was a school board member by the name of Joyce who got the food and drinks together and then served them. She said it was nothing because I had been working so hard with my kids that it was the “least she could do.” Needless to say I now worship the ground this woman walks on.

I’m very anxious and excited to get home. It’s been about 7 months since I’ve seen my parents, my friends, my family, and my hometown. While Lake Village has certainly begun to feel like home, I still feel a connection to my old stomping grounds that will never go away. There are few things more comforting than sitting in the couch at home watching t.v. while Collin messes with our dog Ginger, or on Christmas morning when my sister Anna reverts to a six year old urging all of us to get out of bed so we can open presents at 7 in the morning when we’d rather sleep in until noon. I can’t wait.

This blog will probably be posted tomorrow from home, but it was written over the span of a Saturday. I left Lake Village on Friday and stayed the night at my fellow teacher Ms. Long’s house and her parents graciously agreed to put my eye-sore of a car in their parking lot (Ruby’s seen better days).

With that, I bid you adieu. For those of you who read this regularly in the northwest, I look forward to seeing you soon.

Cheers,

-Mr. Fitzpatrick

“They’re singing ‘Deck the Halls.’ But it’s not like Christmas at all. Cus I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year”- U2