Show and Tell

Betsy, a grammar-school teacher from Miami, remembers this Oscar-worthy birth tableau from one of her students...

I've been teaching now for about fifteen years. I have two kids myself, but the best birth story I know is the one I saw in my own second-grade classroom a few years back.

When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few sessions with my students. It helps them get over shyness and experience a little public speaking. And it gives me a break and some guaranteed entertainment.

Usually, show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or limitations on them. If they want to lug it to school and talk about it, they're welcome.

Well, one day this little girl, Erica - a very bright, very out-going kid -takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater. She holds up a snapshot of an infant.

"This is Luke, my baby brother, and I'm going to tell you about his birthday. First, Mommy and Daddy made him as a symbol of their love, and then Daddy put a seed in my mother's stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord."

She's standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I'm trying not to laugh and wishing I had a video camera rolling. The kids are watching her in amazement.

"Then, about two Saturdays ago, my mother starts going, 'Oh, oh, oh!'" Erica puts a hand behind her back and groans. "She walked around the house for, like an hour, 'Oh, oh, oh!'" Now the kids' are all doing this hysterical duck-walk, holding their back and groaning.

"My father called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn't have a sign on the car like the Domino's man. They got my mother to lie down in bed like this." Erica lies down with her back against the wall.

"And then, pop! My mother had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!"

This kid has her legs spread and with her little hands is miming water flowing way. It was too much!

"Then the middle wife starts going "push, push, and breathe, breathe."  They start counting, but they never even got past ten. Then - all of a sudden - out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff they said was from the play-center, so there must be a lot of stuff inside there."


Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat. I'm sure I applauded the loudest. Ever since then, if it's show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder - just in case another Erica comes along.

~ Author Unknown

Several years ago (before the introduction of our National Numeracy Strategy) we used a very practical based maths scheme. I teach 7 and 8 yr olds. One of the units was 'Length' and the children were required to use various body measurements (hand-span, arm-span etc) to measure several things, such as the height of the door or the length of the playground, before comparing results and discussing the need for a standard unit. At the end of each half term there was an assessment test to see what the children had taken in. My Teaching partner came to me at break in stitches, apparently one of the children, having mis-read the measurement task had gone and asked "Where do you keep the body parts?" not realizing that he needed to pace out the measurement!
Submitted by:

Ann-Marie Rigby

England

THE TEACHER

The teacher looked ahead with misgivings, but with hope.
Would the way be smooth or rough?
Would it end in success or failure?
And she stood and looked and wondered.
And a voice said, answering: "There will be no end."

And the teacher smiled and said:
"I know it will end. I may teach one year, two years,
Or possibly many years,
But this I know: Someday it will end."
And the teacher went forward to teach.

And many gathered around her,
And they all had need to learn.
And the teacher looked into their eyes and desired to fill their needs
And she taught them with mind and heart and voice —
A mind filled with knowledge,
A voice speaking wisdom,
And a heart overflowing with love.

Then life changed, and the teacher taught no more.
No more did eager students gather around her.

"It has ended," said the teacher, continuing on the road of life.
"This is the end of my teaching." And she believed this until...

A doctor stood and said: "I am here because this teacher taught me."

A lawyer stood and said: "I am here because this teacher taught me."

An astronaut stood and said, ”I am here because this teacher taught me."

An engineer stood and said, “I am here because this teacher taught me."

A teacher stood and said, "I am here because this teacher taught me."

And many in good positions stood and said,
“ I am here because this teacher taught me."

And the teacher looked ahead of those who had been taught
and saw the continued steps of progress, work, and success
before each one.
And joy filled the teacher's heart, and she said,
”This is not the end.
There is no end to my teachings.”

~ Author Unknown ~

IF YOU GIVE A TEACHER AN APPLE

If you give a teacher an apple, she'll want a break so she can eat it.

When she's on her break, she'll be paged regarding an emergency in her classroom.

When she's handled the child having a temper tantrum, she'll find that her break is over and will begin teaching a lesson on the carpet.

While at the carpet, she'll see that one child needs to go to the washroom.

While escorting that child to the bathroom, she'll find another child who has wet his pants.

When searching for the extra clothes for the wet one, she'll remember a note to parents requesting extra clothing be donated.

While writing the note at her desk, she'll realize that her "runner" has disappeared again.

When looking for the "runner child," she'll remember he is absent but finds two other children playing by the lockers.

When reminding the children about sitting on the carpet, she'll walk by her desk and find her
partially-planned activities for the letter "A".
 

And... chances are... if she finds the "A" activities, she'll remember her partially-eaten apple in the staff room.

~ Anonymous

The above "story" was inspired by Laura Numeroff and dedicated to the teachers on the Kinder Korner mailring by the writer.

"The Star Polisher"

I have a great job in the universe of occupations.

What doI do?

I'm a "star polisher."
I have a very important job.

If you want to know how important,

just go out at night and look at the stars
twinkling and sparkling.
You see, I'm a teacher.

The stars are the children in my class.

My job is to take them in--

in whatever shape they come--

and shine and buff them and then send them out to take
their places as bright little twinkling beacons in the sky.
They come into my room in all shapes and sizes.

Sometimes they're bent, tarnished, dirty, crinkly and broken.

Some stars are cuddly, soft and sweet.

Some stars are prickly and thorny.
As I buff, polish, train and teach my little stars,

I tell them that the world cannot do without them.

I tell them they can do anything they set their minds to do.

I tell them they can be the brightest, shiniest stars in the sky
and the world will be a better place because of them.

Each night as I look at the sky, I'm reminded of my very
important job and awesome responsibility.

I go and get my soft buffing cloth and my bottle of polish in preparation
for tomorrow and for my class of little stars.

~ Leah Becks ~

Teachers Make a Difference

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life.
One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education.

He argued: "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best
option in life was to become a teacher?"

He reminded the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about
teachers: "Those who can do. Those who can't teach."

To corroborate, he said to another guest: "You're a teacher, Susan," he
said.  "Be honest. What do you make?"

Susan, who had a reputation of honesty and frankness,
replied, "You want to know what I make?"

"I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.

I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face if the student did
not do his or her very best."

"I can make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall in absolute silence."

"I can make parents tremble in fear when I call home"

"You want to know what I make? I make kids wonder."

"I make them question."

"I make them criticize."

"I make them apologize and mean it."

"I make them write."

"I make them read, read, read."

"I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, and definitely
beautiful over and over and over again, until they will never misspell
either one of those words again."

"I make them show all their work in math and hide it all on their final  drafts in English."

"I elevate them to experience music and art and the joy in performance, so
their lives are rich, full of kindness and culture, and they take pride in
themselves and their accomplishments."

"I make them understand that if you have the brains, then you should follow
your heart... and if someone ever tries to judge you by how much money you
make, you pay them no attention ."

"You want to know what I make? I make a difference."

~ Author Unknown ~

To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.

~ Author Unknown

School Answering Machine

"Hello! You have reached  the automated answering service of your school.  In order to assist you  in connecting to the right staff member, please listen to all your  options before making a selection:

To lie about why your child is absent - Press 1
To make excuses for why your child did not do his work-    Press 2
To complain about what we do - Press 3
To cuss out staff members - Press 4
To ask why you didn't get information that was already enclosed in your newsletter and several flyers mailed to you - Press 5
If you want us to raise your child - Press 6
If you  want to reach out and touch, slap or hit someone - Press 7
To request another teacher for the third time this year - Press 8
To complain  about bus transportation - Press 9
To complain about school lunches - Press 0
"If you realize this is the real world and your child must be accountable/responsible for his/ her own behavior, class work, homework, and that it's not the teachers' fault for your child(ren)'s lack of effort, hang up and have a nice day!"

~ Author Unknown

The Hand
 

At first it sounded like a thanksgiving story, but the more I reflected on it, the more appropriate it seemed for any time of the year. The way I heard it, the story went like this:

Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment -- to draw a picture of something for which they were thankful.

Most of the class might be considered economically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the subjects of most of her student's art. And they were.

But Douglas made a different kind of picture. Douglas was a different kind of boy. He was the teacher's true child of misery, frail and unhappy. As other children played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the pain Douglas felt behind those sad eyes.

Yes, his picture was different. When asked to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an empty hand.

His abstract image captured the imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be? One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police protect and care for people. Still others guessed it was the hand of God, for God feeds us. And so the discussion went -- until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.

When the children had gone on to other assignments, she paused at Douglas' desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was. The little boy looked away and murmured, "It's yours, teacher."

She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him here or there, as she had the other students. How often had she said, "Take my hand, Douglas, we'll go outside." Or, "Let me show you how to hold your pencil." Or, "Let's do this together." Douglas was most thankful for his teacher's hand.

Brushing aside a tear, she went on with her work.

The story speaks of more than thankfulness. It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how much it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks. But they'll remember the hand that reaches out.

By Steve Goodier © 2001 (reprinted)

I Don't Want To Go

I have no patience left,
I just want to cry.
I want to scream and yell,
And tell the school good-bye.

When tomorrow comes,
And the alarm goes off.
At my mirror I'll look,
And then I'll scoff.

I don't want to go.
I simply can not go.
Do I really have to?
Oh please, say "NO!"

Yet, for really and truly,
When tomorrow is here.
I'll drag myself up,
And go in with cheer.

I'll plaster that fake smile,
And hopefor early dismissal.
But by the end of the day,
That smile will be real.

For teaching I love,
Just needed to vent.
Now I'll go back to my cherubs,
Who were heaven - sent!

Anonymous

Remember, We're Raising Children, Not Flowers!

I recently heard a story from Stephen Glenn about a famous research scientist who had made several very important medical breakthroughs. He was being interviewed by a newspaper reporter who asked him why he thought he was able to be so much more creative than the average person. What set him so far apart from others?
 

He responded that, in his opinion, it all came from an experience with his mother that occurred when he was about two years old. He had been trying to remove a bottle of
milk from the refrigerator when he lost his grip on the slippery bottle and it fell, spilling its contents all over the kitchen floor - a veritable sea of milk!  When his mother came into the kitchen, instead of yelling at him, giving him a lecture or punishing him, she said, "Robert, what a great and wonderful mess you have made! I have rarely seen such a huge puddle of milk. Well, the damage has already been done. Would you like to get down and play in the milk for a few minutes before we clean it up?"
 

Indeed, he did. After a few minutes, his mother said, "You know, Robert, whenever you make a mess like this, eventually you have to clean it up and restore everything to its proper order. So, how would you like to do that? We could use a sponge, a towel or a mop. Which do you prefer?" He chose the sponge and together they cleaned up
 

His mother then said, "You know, what we have here is a failed experiment in how to effectively carry a big milk bottle with two tiny hands. Let's go out in the back yard and fill the bottle with water and see if you can discover a way to carry it without dropping it." The little boy learned that if he grasped the bottle at the top near the lip with both hands, he could carry it without dropping it. What a wonderful lesson!
 

This renowned scientist then remarked that it was at that moment that he knew he didn't need to be afraid to make mistakes. Instead, he learned that mistakes were just opportunities for learning something new, which is, after all, what scientific experiments are all about. Even if
the experiment "doesn't work," we usually learn something  valuable from it. Wouldn't it be great if all parents would respond the way Robert's mother responded to him?

~ Author Unknown

*Note: I included this on this page, because we as teachers often need to remember that we're teaching children, not flowers! :)

The Blueberry Story: The teacher gives the businessman a lesson

"If I ran my business the way you people operate your schools, I wouldn't be in business very long!"

I stood before an auditorium filled with outraged teachers who were becoming angrier by the minute. My speech had entirely consumed their precious 90 minutes of in-service. Their initial icy glares had turned to restless agitation. You could cut the hostility with a knife.

I represented a group of business people dedicated to improving public schools.

I was an executive at an ice cream company that became famous in the middle 1980s when People Magazine chose our blueberry as the "Best Ice Cream in America."

I was convinced of two things. First, public schools needed to change; they were archaic selecting and sorting mechanisms designed for the industrial age and  out of step with the needs of our emerging "knowledge society".

Second, educators were a major part of the problem: they resisted change, hunkered down in their feathered nests, protected by tenure and shielded by a bureaucratic monopoly. They needed to look to business.

We knew how to produce quality.  Zero defects!  TQM!  Continuous improvement!

In retrospect, the speech was perfectly balanced - equal parts ignorance and arrogance.


As soon as I finished, a woman's hand shot up.  She appeared polite, pleasant -- she was, in fact, a razor-edged, veteran, high school English teacher who had been waiting to unload.  She began quietly, "We are told, sir, that you manage a company that makes good ice cream."

I smugly replied, "Best ice cream in America, Ma'am."

"How nice," she said. "Is it rich and smooth?"

"Sixteen percent butterfat," I crowed.

"Premium ingredients?" she inquired.

"Super-premium!  Nothing but triple A."  I was on a roll.

I never saw the next line coming.

"Mr. Vollmer," she said, leaning forward with a wicked eyebrow raised to the sky, "when you are standing on your receiving dock and you see an inferior shipment of blueberries arrive, what do you do?"

In the silence of that room, I could hear the trap snap.  I was dead meat, but I wasn't going to lie.  "I send them back."

"That's right!" she barked, "and we can never send back our blueberries. We take them big, small, rich, poor, gifted, exceptional, abused, frightened, confident, homeless, rude, and brilliant. We take them with ADHD, junior rheumatoid arthritis, and English as their second language.

We take them all!  Every one!  And that, Mr. Vollmer, is why it's not a business.  It's school!" in an explosion, all 290 teachers, principals, bus drivers, aides, custodians and secretaries jumped to their feet and yelled, "Yeah! Blueberries! Blueberries!!"

And so began my long transformation. Since then, I have visited hundreds of schools.  I have learned that a school is not a business.

Schools are unable to control the quality of their raw material, they are dependent upon the vagaries of politics for a reliable revenue stream, and they are constantly mauled by a howling horde of disparate, competing customer groups that would send the best CEO screaming into the night.  None of this negates the need for change.

We must change what, when, and how we teach to give all children maximum opportunity to thrive in a post-industrial society. But educators cannot do this alone; these changes can occur only with the understanding, trust, permission and active support of the surrounding community.

For the most important thing I have learned is that schools reflect the attitudes, beliefs and health of the communities they serve, and therefore, to improve public education means more than changing our schools, it means changing America.

by Jamie Robert Vollmer

Teacher and Boots

Did you hear about the Calgary teacher who was helping one of her kindergarten students put on his cowboy boots?

He asked for help and she could see why. Even with her pulling and him pushing,  the little boots still didn't want to go on.

Finally, when the second boot was on, she had worked up a sweat.   She almost cried when the little boy said, "Teacher, they're on the wrong feet." She looked and sure enough, they were.

It wasn't any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on.  She managed to keep her cool as together they worked to get the boots
back on - this time on the right feet.

He then announced, "These aren't my boots."  She bit her tongue rather than get right in his face and scream, "Why didn't you say so?" like she wanted to.  And, once again she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet.

No sooner they got the boots off and he said, "They're my brother's boots.  My Mom made me wear 'em."

Now she didn't know if she should laugh or cry.  But, she mustered up the grace and courage she had left to wrestle the boots on his feet again.

Helping him into his coat, she asked, "Now, where are your mittens?"

He said, "I stuffed 'em in the toes of my boots  .   .   ."

Her trial starts next month.

~ Author Unknown

After being interviewed by the school administration, the eager teaching prospect said: "Let me see if I've got this right.

You want me to go into that room with all those kids and fill their every waking moment with a love for learning.

And I'm supposed to instill a sense of pride in their ethnicity, modify their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse and even censor their T-shirt messages and dress habits.

You want me to wage a war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, check their backpacks for weapons of mass destruction, and raise their self esteem.

You want me to teach them patriotism, good citizenship, sportsmanship, and fair play, how and where to register to vote, how to balance a checkbook, and how to apply for a job.

I am to check their heads for lice, maintain a safe environment, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, offer advice, write letters of recommendation for student employment and scholarships, encourage respect for the cultural diversity of others, and, oh yeah, always make sure that I give the girls in my class 50 percent of my attention.

My contract requires me to work on my own time after school and evenings grading papers. Also, I must spend my summer vacation at my own expense, working toward advance certification and a Master's degree. And on my own time you want me to attend committee and faculty meetings, PTA meetings, and participate in staff development training.

I am to be a paragon of virtue, larger than life, such that my very presence will awe my students into being obedient and respectful of authority.

And I am to pledge allegiance to family values and this current administration.

You want me to incorporate technology into the learning experience, monitor web sites, and relate personally with each student.

That includes deciding who might be potentially dangerous and/or liable to commit a crime in school.

I am to make sure all students pass the state mandatory exams, even those who don't come to school regularly or complete any of their assignments. Plus, I am to make sure that all of the students with handicaps get an equal education regardless of the extent of their mental or physical handicap.

And I am to communicate regularly with the parents by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card.
 

All of this I am to do with just a piece of chalk, a computer, a few books, a bulletin board, and a big smile AND on a starting salary that qualifies my family for food stamps!

You want me to do all of this and you expect me NOT TO PRAY?"
 

~Author Unknown

9/13/02

last updated 7.26.07

hits since 11.11.03