Two weeks left.....

Since daylight savings time, I've been driving to school at a very unique time of day. The sky is still dark and the moon and a few stars still present. Despite the silver still hanging in the air, the new days light leaks from the soil and for a moment the moon and the sun share the same sky. It's a very eerie, very promising time of day. Driving through the half dark-half light of the morning listening to "what you doing at the courthouse" on the radio (a classy segment of talk radio when a DJ shows up at the courthouse and asks people what they're in for) I smile knowing this will easily be the most boring part of my day and wonder what lessons are waiting for me at MacArthur high school.

1. The 17-year old male problem-solving mind is TV worthy. This week in welding we have been working on a trailer, and Friday we were preparing to put the wooden floor in. There were students marking the metal that ran the width of the trailer, others cutting holes where the metal had been marked to attach the boards to the trailer, and others using drills to clean up the holes that had been cut, so the bolts fit better. At one point, the bit of the drill broke and had gotten stuck in the metal of the trailer. The metal here was actually heavy metal tubing, or something, because the bit had broke off and was not visible on the bottom. The bit was also flush to the top surface of the metal. All of the sudden, the shop turned into a surgery room one might see on ER or Grey's Anatomy. Students gathered around the scene, handing small tools and large tools back and forth in a mixture of English and Spanish dialog. When just a hammer didn't work, they tried a chisel. Someone talked of burning it out and someone else suggested needle nose pliers. Someone was on their back working from the underside of the trailer, and five or six others gathered around the top of trailer looking down at the wedged bit. Finally, once the entire tool room had been emptied and a combination of hitting the bit from the bottom and grabbing from the top was employed, the endeavor was a success and the broken bit was discarded.

2. Competition encourages practice...and trash talking. In honor of the Final Four coming to Houston I held a March madness welding tournament in my three welding classes. This gave students the opportunity to test their welding skills against the other students in their class. Trying to explain the concept of the tournament was more challenging than I thought it would be, but eventually the students caught on and were actually having fun with it. Not only did this little competition encourage some students to actually practice their skills but also brought out a very entertaining, very competitive side of my students.

3. It's always nice to see a familiar face. Since I blogged last Mac was blessed with a very special visitor. Dr. Miller from ISU visited both Tiff and I at our respective schools and spent a day in our classes. Dr. Miller and our conversations made me miss Iowa in some ways, but also helped me realize that I'm getting a very different experience than many of many of my classmates.

4. If laughter is the best medicine, I won’t be sick a day. High school students are absolutely the most fun, most entertaining, hilarious individuals. Between the sight of one only girls in my welding class attempting to stand as far away from a piece as metal as possible as not to get sparks on her clothes, or the thousands of creative excuses I’ve heard as to why someone wasn’t at school (including getting lost at sea), and the random chit-chat that occurs before the bell rings my students keep me laughing the entire day. Sometimes the laughter comes at an expense to the school, like yesterday when I walked outside of the shop to find students trying to scoop paint back into the can (paint shaking assignment gone wrong). Sometimes the laughter comes at an expense to the student, like the time one student was in charge in making a “no parking” sign, but after running out of room only had a “no parkin” sign to show for his efforts. After Arkadie explained that the sign was going to sit outside the building and most people in the community think the school is ghetto enough the student just shook his head and said “I could have fit the G on there.” I’ve realized that if I don’t laugh I just might cry, and if I don’t find the humor in the little things I’ll never last in this profession.

5. Students change from day to day. In welding class a week or two ago I spotted one of the students with his cell phone. Tired of cell phones and all the hassle I rolled my eyes and used my classic line-- "if that's a smart phone you should be smart enough not to use it in school". The student smiled and said, "ok, Miss, but first let me show you a picture of my son." Surprised I looked at the photo not entirely sure what to expect, but there it was... a newborn baby. That was just born the night before. In a day, a few hours, my welding student went from a typical teenage boy to a father. Just like that.

6. I can't always be about the test. On Friday I decided to assess knowledge the old fashioned way and administered a test. Within three minutes of handing it out I had students hyperventilating and insisting we "NEVER TALKED ABOUT ANY OF THIS STUFF". Obvious that their scores would not be as high as their blood pressure and that the anxiety would eventually shut their brain down entirely, I decided to get creative. I also knew that even if I went over the test after grading them many students would zone out believing that since the test was over and graded whatever content was covered is no longer important. I get increasingly frustrated when we have quality discussions in class and then when it comes time to summarize what we talked about on a test they turn frantic. After I explained why I don’t offer multiple choice or true/false tests I tried something new. I explained that we would be going through this test as class. For the entire hour of Livestock Production we talked through, in depth, the answers to the 20 short answer questions of the test. I asked follow-up questions, made sure every student contributed, made sketches on the board, and probed with questions until I was exhausted. They had to complete the test as we went, and I’m impressed with their lengthy, thorough, in-depth answers. I’m considering re-writing the questions and giving the test again, but understand that their high school experience is not my educational experiment.

7. Geography should be emphasized in the Texas public school system. Having lived in Texas for almost four months I am well aware that there is little recognition of, and certainly no appreciation for, the remaining 49 states of America. As I was preparing to make my trip back to Iowa there were several occasions Arkadie suggested I take some of the students back with me. Once during welding he turned to a student and told him I was going to the Midwest and he should go too. Arkadie said it would be cold, and not much diversity, but probably exactly what this student needed. Not the liking the idea, the student shook his head and said "I don't want to go to Idawa sir." I speculated on what Idawa must be like-- a state that grows corn and potatoes in the same field and STILL gets confused for being the Buckeyes.

8. Diversity doesn't necessarily mean different. After I got back from Iowa and was telling my students about my trip one of them asked if I told anyone back home about them, the students at MacArthur and in my classes. I told him that everyone I talked to was very interested about the school I was teaching in and my students. They of course then asked what I had told the Midwest about MacArthur and I reminded students that in Iowa there is not much diversity, so people are often very interested in the cultural demographics of Mac. One student piped up and said “why? We aren’t diverse. We are 99% Hispanic and have a handful of white teachers.” The class laughed, and I got to thinking that perhaps that student was on to something. MacArthur really isn't that different than Iowa high schools. We emphasize soccer more than football, and send letters home with students in both English and Spanish. But we also both work hard to prepare students for careers and life, and both states believe their standardized tests are the best. MacArthur is not another world; it's southern Texas, and it's really not scary or different at all.

9. Bald eagles don’t impress high school students. The last two weeks of my teaching are focused on FFA and SAE within agricultural education. In explaining agricultural careers I displayed a huge list of potential jobs within agriculture to exemplify the breadth of the industry. One student asked what a Wildlife Manger was, and I briefly explained what some potential jobs responsibilities might be. I then thought about Eagle Cam in Decorah, Iowa, that is documenting the every move at an eagles nest and decided to get it on the big screen. While watching the eagle sit next to the newly hatched birds I explained the purpose of the camera and what wildlife professionals were doing with the information and how around the US wildlife are documented to study breeding, eating patterns, migration, etc. We then sat in silence for almost a minute just watching the eagle look from side to side and blink occasionally until finally one student said “so this is what they do in Iowa, Miss?” I laughed for a long time and then said, “well, that and feed most of the world.”

The End

I'm back in Iowa, and Houston and MacArthur already seem like so long ago. When people ask me how my student teaching experience was I smile and tell them it was amazing, leaving it at that. It's hard to tell a story sometimes-- it's hard to covey the feelings I have for my students, the respect I have for Mr. Arkadie and Miss Fish, and the emotions that forever be tied to the MacArthur ag room to people looking for a short answer on how the last four months of my life played out.

My last day of teaching was a very special one. I walked into the room after running an errand to find a pizza party, cake, and letters and cards waiting for me. Students filtered in and out of the party during their lunch hour and I slowly began to say goodbye to the students that had become my entire life. One student even made me a quilt that is covered in Farmall tractors and all the other students signed it in fabric paint. I am so touched that these students put so much work into it. While I was packing it to make the trip home I finally took the time to lay it out and read what all the students had wrote, and started to get choked up.

I know that in three years I won't remember the lessons I taught, but I'll remember the comments that were made and the questions that were asked. I won't remember the names of all my students, but I will remember their smiles and how happy they made me. I know I won't remember all of Arkadie's one-liners, but I will never forget the days he kept me laughing when I felt like giving up. I am most thankful for he and Miss Fish. They taught me the most about being a teacher and a friend to students, and providing students with opportunities they might not otherwise have. They made Texas feel like home, despite being 1000 miles from Iowa.

I'm not sure I changed any lives in my 14-week stint as a student teacher, but thankfully the students at this school changed mine. My perspective on teaching has changed, my idea of a teacher is completely different, and my passion for life, and agriculture, and teaching is reborn.

While I may never dance or teach in Texas again, I'll be doing both in boots I bought in Houston and lessons I learned at MacArthur.