How apt is it that I have chosen to write this latest introspective on a train, the location of my first post to this blog. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you read what I write), the tone of this particular post will be a little different.
First of all, I never had a chance to do a follow-up post talking about how my practicum ended. Suffice it to say that it ended as well as it began, and that I am pleased to have had the positive experiences I have had in both practica, since I know that is the exception rather than the norm. I even had the delightful chance to express my disdain over the "pastoral visit" I received (as referenced in my previous post) on an official level, which was wholly satisfying. It's interesting that my testimony regarding the visit I received was not unique in nature, and I doubt it will go unactioned. Thank goodness.
So where am I now (aside from pulling up to a train station about an hour away from my destination)? For all intents and purposes, I should be pretty happy. Teacher's College is effectively over. I have an assignment due this Monday (which will be submitted by a friend of mine, since I will be several hundred kilometers away from school), and then I get a small break before my delightful and amazing internship wherein I get to romp around a park for a month. It's educational, of course.
As I said, I should be pretty happy, but instead, I am pretty unhappy.
My previous post ended with the declaration that my grandfather might not make it through March Break. He made it through the week, but he passed away this Thursday. I'm not sure that I am in the right mental space to make any sort of further comment on that at all. He lived a long life, and he ultimately passed peacefully and pain-free, which is the ideal, isn't it?
Which brings me to today. I'm en route home to visit family and gain some closure.
I want to devote the end of this entry to some seemingly-necessary cheesiness.
Hug your family.
Visit your grandparents.
It doesn't matter if you don't want to, do it.
Don't make excuses.
If they have the mental space to do so, ask them about their lives. They like that kind of stuff.
If you disagree with their point of view on a political issue, remember that they come from a different generation and brush it off.
Make sure you take the time to build positive memories with them, because once their time ends on this planet, those memories will be all that is left.
Don't be left with raging guilt like me.
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
From the Outside
I remember learning how to make shelters in Pathfinders. Our leaders took us into the forest on some conservation grounds outside of town. We were given small hatchets and a fanny pack of supplies - water-resistant matches, iodine tablets (in case we desperately needed drinking water outside of our recently-filled ones we would be bringing with us), rope, granola bars, an emergency blanket and a tarp which had been machine-folded into a really tiny volatile square that, if you weren't careful, could probably take your eye out when you opened it. First, the leaders showed us how to find dead wood and create a basic lean-to. Then they showed us how to make the lean-to weather-resistant with the tarp. While they showed us how to create these shelters, they also invited us to come up and see what knots they were using, even allowing us the chance to try it out, gently critiquing us if we instead created a knot which would make our shelter completely useless. After they built their own shelters, we went over the steps together. They ensured that we knew what we were doing, and then they sent us into the woods in pairs to build our own. Provided that the shelters we created passed a few survival checks, we would be able to sleep in them that night, should we choose to do so. We'd get a badge in the morning if we succeeded.
This memory also serves as an interesting analogy about my experiences in Teacher's College, particularly practicum.
My curriculum instructors are, in essence, (former) teachers who are reminiscent of old Pathfinder leaders in charge of a group of future leaders. Ultimately, we should have received the same level of instruction entering practicum as when I learned how to build lean-tos. Demonstration. Modeling. Guided practice. Check for understanding. Verification of comprehension. Goal achieved.
Unfortunately, entering this practicum, I felt as though my French curriculum instructor had simply given me the hatchet and the fanny pack and didn't quite bother to teach me how to create a shelter for the night. And then she came back the next morning and wondered why I hadn't created a shelter which was to her liking.
Long analogy aside, let me dive into my recap.
My practicum is still an amazing and wonderful experience. However, my French curriculum instructor came to visit me last Tuesday, and that experience was not quite as magical as it could have been.
"You know you're using ______________ method, right?" *sarcastic laugh*
"Why are you speaking so much English to them? You should be speaking all French."
"The textbook doesn't teach French in this way, why are you not using the textbook?"
"If you aren't speaking French to them, they aren't learning."
And that is a sampling of the "pastoral visit" I received from my curriculum instructor. She came in, observed my ESL/FSL classroom, didn't bother to speak to my AT to find out why I would be speaking any English at all, and then rudely commented on what was, invariably, a combination of my AT's style of teaching and mine.
Nevermind the fact that I read a story to my class in French, and that I sought for listening comprehension via questions in French. And that I used grand gestures with my arms to point to parts of the giant pictures I had created the night before for that specific class. And that the major reason I spoke any English at all was for administrative affairs and to make sure that the extremely low-level ESL students knew what the hell was going on, and even that communication was less in English than in my use of an English-Hungarian dictionary for key words.
And then she wondered why her reaction to my lesson was not well-received.
In fact, she stressed me out so badly that I sat in front of her and cried while she began to profusely apologize for antagonizing me the way she did.
It was not constructive. It was mean. It lacked an understanding of the class as I received in my week of teaching in that classroom. It was exemplary of the fact that I felt as though I received very little instruction from her prior to entering this particular practicum. She couldn't be assed to build a shelter in front of me so I could see how it is done, and then she kicked over the one I built myself.
I know that I shouldn't worry about it, or about her, because when I get out into the world of teaching, I will develop my own style anyway. But I felt a distinct urge to point out just how incredibly off and unwelcome her presence was in my class, and how off-putting her comments were to me after her "observation".
To top it all off, my grandfather is on his last legs, and may possibly not make it through March Break.
And that's really all I have to say for now.
This memory also serves as an interesting analogy about my experiences in Teacher's College, particularly practicum.
My curriculum instructors are, in essence, (former) teachers who are reminiscent of old Pathfinder leaders in charge of a group of future leaders. Ultimately, we should have received the same level of instruction entering practicum as when I learned how to build lean-tos. Demonstration. Modeling. Guided practice. Check for understanding. Verification of comprehension. Goal achieved.
Unfortunately, entering this practicum, I felt as though my French curriculum instructor had simply given me the hatchet and the fanny pack and didn't quite bother to teach me how to create a shelter for the night. And then she came back the next morning and wondered why I hadn't created a shelter which was to her liking.
Long analogy aside, let me dive into my recap.
My practicum is still an amazing and wonderful experience. However, my French curriculum instructor came to visit me last Tuesday, and that experience was not quite as magical as it could have been.
"You know you're using ______________ method, right?" *sarcastic laugh*
"Why are you speaking so much English to them? You should be speaking all French."
"The textbook doesn't teach French in this way, why are you not using the textbook?"
"If you aren't speaking French to them, they aren't learning."
And that is a sampling of the "pastoral visit" I received from my curriculum instructor. She came in, observed my ESL/FSL classroom, didn't bother to speak to my AT to find out why I would be speaking any English at all, and then rudely commented on what was, invariably, a combination of my AT's style of teaching and mine.
Nevermind the fact that I read a story to my class in French, and that I sought for listening comprehension via questions in French. And that I used grand gestures with my arms to point to parts of the giant pictures I had created the night before for that specific class. And that the major reason I spoke any English at all was for administrative affairs and to make sure that the extremely low-level ESL students knew what the hell was going on, and even that communication was less in English than in my use of an English-Hungarian dictionary for key words.
And then she wondered why her reaction to my lesson was not well-received.
In fact, she stressed me out so badly that I sat in front of her and cried while she began to profusely apologize for antagonizing me the way she did.
It was not constructive. It was mean. It lacked an understanding of the class as I received in my week of teaching in that classroom. It was exemplary of the fact that I felt as though I received very little instruction from her prior to entering this particular practicum. She couldn't be assed to build a shelter in front of me so I could see how it is done, and then she kicked over the one I built myself.
I know that I shouldn't worry about it, or about her, because when I get out into the world of teaching, I will develop my own style anyway. But I felt a distinct urge to point out just how incredibly off and unwelcome her presence was in my class, and how off-putting her comments were to me after her "observation".
To top it all off, my grandfather is on his last legs, and may possibly not make it through March Break.
And that's really all I have to say for now.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Status Report
Il fait beau.
That's actually a flashcard I made for one of my French classes. I got to teach them about the weather.
And that's about what my week has been like, to be honest. Il fait beau.
I have been digging the challenge so far of introducing French as an Additional Language to students who are also English language learners themselves. There's a really interesting dynamic within the classroom. All of my students have never experienced French language learning before entering this particular class, so the class starts from the basics. Alphabet. Pronunciation. Basic vocabulary. We haven't even really covered the parts of a sentence yet...I get to introduce verb conjugation (just...verbs in general, present tense of regular ER verbs) after March Break, and we're anticipating that it might take the entire two weeks post-MB to do so.
But there's another snag. Since all of my students are English language learners, there is already a language barrier because I speak English. So I have been trying to speak French in the classroom so they can get as much modified input as possible, but there is a great challenge in attempting to explain exercises to them. If I speak French even at a very slow pace to explain something, they grow even more confused...mainly because they've never really received any input in French whatsoever before the semester started. If I speak English to them to explain an activity, sometimes I get the same confused expression. It is an exercise in scaffolded communication, and I absolutely and genuinely dig the challenge.
If I can teach these guys French, I think I can teach anyone French.
And now, at 10pm on the Sunday night before Week 2, I marvel at how, once again, practicum seems to be moving at the speed of light.
This week, I'm going to poke my nose in on (hopefully) some kind of extracurricular activity so I can get involved with the school community. I also need to plan and create a culminating task with a carefully-scaffolded rubric in plain and simple language. I need to grab at the challenge of planning a unit on Haiti for the grade 10 class (which is in a world of its own, let me tell you - I don't get to take over that class fully until after March Break). And lastly, I need to pull myself into the here and now so I can plan a lesson that my curriculum instructor will observe and "evaluate" on Tuesday morning.
But yes, to sum up...I'm not only surviving practicum, but I seem to be thriving. The challenge of teaching an additional language is interesting and exhilarating. Not to mention that I am teaching the language to a class full of people who seem to actually want to learn.
Il fait beau indeed.
Friday, February 18, 2011
The Great Equalizer
It feels incredibly strange that Practicum 2 is just around the corner.
In fact, orientation days were yesterday and today. Well, I guess I should say, orientation DAY was yesterday. Today was a PA day for schools in my board (which would normally mean that teachers would be attending workshops for professional development), and my practicum school told all of the teacher candidates to just stay home and have the day off.
I like this school already.
It's very different from the school where I did my first practicum, but in a good way. This school is located in a part of town that is known as having a high immigrant population. The street on which the school is located is referred to commonly as the "landing strip", because the affordable housing in the area provides easy lodging for those who have just arrived in the country.
The result of having such a high amount of diversity within the school is a magnificent sense of community unlike any other that I have seen.
During orientation day yesterday, I got to attend an assembly put on my one of the school's cultural associations. It was a celebration of a certain holiday that's coming up. The air in the auditorium during this "assembly" was absolutely electric. The event was organized almost entirely by students, and included videos, dancers, singers, and a fashion show. Each aspect of the show was accompanied by rousing cheers by the student body. The support demonstrated by the students for this cultural celebration was inspiring.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that the secret word of the day yesterday was "inspiring", because there were many moments during the day that left me in awe.
It's quite nice that I get to spend my dreaded French practicum in this amazing school environment.
It's funny, though. I dreaded this practicum so much, but when I found out what classes my AT teaches, and how she's teaching them...it was, well...inspiring.
Somewhere in the writer's condo, a bell rings and confetti falls to the floor.
So here's what I get to teach:
* Grade 10 Academic/Enriched Pre-IB French (Yes, that's a mouthful...I forgot to mention that this place is an IB World School)
* Grade 9 Applied French for Beginners (A class for English language learners to get their French credit)
* TBD
My AT only teaches two classes this semester (a semestered school, thank goodness), so we're going to work together to maybe find me a third class to teach with another teacher. Or something. I don't know. Frankly, I'd be content with just the two classes. They're going to be veeeeery interesting.
The grade 10 class is going to be an absolute joy, because I will be helping my AT with their first unit, which will be on la Francophonie d'ailleurs...which means that we're going to be actively studying different Francophone regions in the world outside of France and Canada. They're starting with the Acadian diaspora in Louisiana.
The writer flails joyfully in her computer chair.
Oh man, French for beginners. The textbook is just...wow. It's from the 80s, and it still thinks that France uses the Franc and that its denizens have terrible hair. It's going to be a mission of mine to do something about this awful textbook. I'm probably going to use it for things like...vocabulary. That might be the extent of it. I have a week to plan lessons, because I start teaching that class first when I officially start practicum.
Unfortunately, I have to snap back into reality, because typing out that last sentence reminds me that we do, in fact, have an extra week of school, and that this last week before practicum is full of due dates. Everyone I know at school has at least two assignments due next week, so...here's hoping we all survive the week and can begin Practicum 2 in one piece!
In fact, orientation days were yesterday and today. Well, I guess I should say, orientation DAY was yesterday. Today was a PA day for schools in my board (which would normally mean that teachers would be attending workshops for professional development), and my practicum school told all of the teacher candidates to just stay home and have the day off.
I like this school already.
It's very different from the school where I did my first practicum, but in a good way. This school is located in a part of town that is known as having a high immigrant population. The street on which the school is located is referred to commonly as the "landing strip", because the affordable housing in the area provides easy lodging for those who have just arrived in the country.
The result of having such a high amount of diversity within the school is a magnificent sense of community unlike any other that I have seen.
During orientation day yesterday, I got to attend an assembly put on my one of the school's cultural associations. It was a celebration of a certain holiday that's coming up. The air in the auditorium during this "assembly" was absolutely electric. The event was organized almost entirely by students, and included videos, dancers, singers, and a fashion show. Each aspect of the show was accompanied by rousing cheers by the student body. The support demonstrated by the students for this cultural celebration was inspiring.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that the secret word of the day yesterday was "inspiring", because there were many moments during the day that left me in awe.
It's quite nice that I get to spend my dreaded French practicum in this amazing school environment.
It's funny, though. I dreaded this practicum so much, but when I found out what classes my AT teaches, and how she's teaching them...it was, well...inspiring.
Somewhere in the writer's condo, a bell rings and confetti falls to the floor.
So here's what I get to teach:
* Grade 10 Academic/Enriched Pre-IB French (Yes, that's a mouthful...I forgot to mention that this place is an IB World School)
* Grade 9 Applied French for Beginners (A class for English language learners to get their French credit)
* TBD
My AT only teaches two classes this semester (a semestered school, thank goodness), so we're going to work together to maybe find me a third class to teach with another teacher. Or something. I don't know. Frankly, I'd be content with just the two classes. They're going to be veeeeery interesting.
The grade 10 class is going to be an absolute joy, because I will be helping my AT with their first unit, which will be on la Francophonie d'ailleurs...which means that we're going to be actively studying different Francophone regions in the world outside of France and Canada. They're starting with the Acadian diaspora in Louisiana.
The writer flails joyfully in her computer chair.
Oh man, French for beginners. The textbook is just...wow. It's from the 80s, and it still thinks that France uses the Franc and that its denizens have terrible hair. It's going to be a mission of mine to do something about this awful textbook. I'm probably going to use it for things like...vocabulary. That might be the extent of it. I have a week to plan lessons, because I start teaching that class first when I officially start practicum.
Unfortunately, I have to snap back into reality, because typing out that last sentence reminds me that we do, in fact, have an extra week of school, and that this last week before practicum is full of due dates. Everyone I know at school has at least two assignments due next week, so...here's hoping we all survive the week and can begin Practicum 2 in one piece!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
An Ode to Luck
In the past, I've tended to be that person that everyone thinks is "so lucky".
Of course, by past, I do mean from about grade nine forward, since I don't think anyone could possibly believe that I had any luck in my middle school years.
Anyway.
I've been lucky because...
...everything I ever auditioned for in Drama Club in high school, I would get.
...if there was a job I REALLY TRULY wanted, I would get it.
...I was able to get into my Master's program despite only finishing my undergrad with a 78% average.
...I was able to get into Teacher's College despite...only finishing my undergrad with a 78% average.
...I *could have had* the opportunity to study with a scholar I admire in Pennsylvania, should I have chosen not to DO Teacher's College.
...Since finding out where my second practicum will be, I have had the distinct pleasure of doing both of my practicums in schools in the area that are both influential in this school board.
There are other examples, but I'll leave off there.
What's unfortunate is that I think my luck might have finally run out. I still haven't gotten a phone call from the only board to which I bothered applying so far for an interview. I feel like I am at a stage where I need to begin contemplating a Plan B.
The mere idea that there MUST be a Plan B is in itself incredibly depressing. Everyone seemed oh so certain that I would get a teaching position.
"Oh, your teachables are French and History?! Of COURSE you'll get a job. Everyone wants French teachers!"
Of *course* I'll get a job. That's why I'm sitting in front of my computer, fevered, wrapped in two blankets, typing furiously and glancing at my phone every 30 seconds or so, attempting to will it to ring. Waiting to see if maybe my "luckiness" will actually do me good once again. Always waiting. Always questioning.
Maybe I should've gotten that PhD instead.
Of course, by past, I do mean from about grade nine forward, since I don't think anyone could possibly believe that I had any luck in my middle school years.
Anyway.
I've been lucky because...
...everything I ever auditioned for in Drama Club in high school, I would get.
...if there was a job I REALLY TRULY wanted, I would get it.
...I was able to get into my Master's program despite only finishing my undergrad with a 78% average.
...I was able to get into Teacher's College despite...only finishing my undergrad with a 78% average.
...I *could have had* the opportunity to study with a scholar I admire in Pennsylvania, should I have chosen not to DO Teacher's College.
...Since finding out where my second practicum will be, I have had the distinct pleasure of doing both of my practicums in schools in the area that are both influential in this school board.
There are other examples, but I'll leave off there.
What's unfortunate is that I think my luck might have finally run out. I still haven't gotten a phone call from the only board to which I bothered applying so far for an interview. I feel like I am at a stage where I need to begin contemplating a Plan B.
The mere idea that there MUST be a Plan B is in itself incredibly depressing. Everyone seemed oh so certain that I would get a teaching position.
"Oh, your teachables are French and History?! Of COURSE you'll get a job. Everyone wants French teachers!"
Of *course* I'll get a job. That's why I'm sitting in front of my computer, fevered, wrapped in two blankets, typing furiously and glancing at my phone every 30 seconds or so, attempting to will it to ring. Waiting to see if maybe my "luckiness" will actually do me good once again. Always waiting. Always questioning.
Maybe I should've gotten that PhD instead.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Embracing Chaos
Hooo boy.
Have I been busy? Indeed I have.
Since my last post (and the relatively large GAP between the last post and this one should provide some clues here), I have been simultaneously stressed to the core as well as, well, busy. Very very busy.
School started up again, of course. And with that, the school decided to pretty much pick up where it left off pre-holiday break and inundate us with work right off the bat.
In the past three weeks, I've had two major assignments to do (presentation, reflection - joys), I've been (re-)introduced to two term-long major assignments (unit projects for both curriculum classes), more presentations (TES, resource in FSL), and I find myself in a situation where for the first time all year, I might have to hand in an assignment late.
This past week was the worst of it, so far. Between things occurring in my personal life (being cryptic is the key to success) and the monumental workload I've had to endure, I more or less began to succumb to what I'm pretty sure was a series of minor panic attacks. Nothing serious, just me entering a catatonic state, perpetually contemplating where my life is right now, and having to come to terms with the fact that I have had to apply to jobs so that I might actually begin my career, and what if they don't like me, what if I get a crap job, what if I can't get a job at all, what if I screw up next practicum--
Etc. Etc.
I understand that our program must be compacted in a certain way in order to allow for our two practicums and our internship, and still be done the program in about 8 months, but given that I am not the only one in this state of mind, it's difficult to say that what we're forced to endure is in any way "good".
Let me return a second to the "applying for jobs" part of this post which I alluded to in my string of panic above. The reason why I have bothered posting today is because today, I finally sent in my application to the Toronto District School Board, thereby commencing my first round of board applications. I intend on also applying for the York Region District School Board, and perhaps for fun, either the Upper Grand District School Board (and maybe move back to Guelph?) or the Grand Erie District School Board (the board in which I experienced my own formative education). I'm gunning for the TDSB or the YRDSB, for obvious reasons of convenience. Given the language evident on the UGDSB website, the idea of getting a job there currently might be a bit of a pipe dream.
It's an exciting day, even though my language might seem to indicate that it is not. I am slightly skeptical in nature, and hesitant to state that my dream job will simply land in my lap (in contrast to what was told to us by someone at a presentation who had *just that* happen in her professional life - good for her, but this is not the norm).
It's mildly comforting to know that one of my askew puzzle tiles has finally been fitted into place - I have confirmed my internship for May. What's nice about this internship is that it opens up into an employment opportunity, which is very important to me, especially given my aforementioned skepticism.
Providing that I survive this semester, I will be excited to simply get a job. Any education-related job (that I enjoy).
Have I been busy? Indeed I have.
Since my last post (and the relatively large GAP between the last post and this one should provide some clues here), I have been simultaneously stressed to the core as well as, well, busy. Very very busy.
School started up again, of course. And with that, the school decided to pretty much pick up where it left off pre-holiday break and inundate us with work right off the bat.
In the past three weeks, I've had two major assignments to do (presentation, reflection - joys), I've been (re-)introduced to two term-long major assignments (unit projects for both curriculum classes), more presentations (TES, resource in FSL), and I find myself in a situation where for the first time all year, I might have to hand in an assignment late.
This past week was the worst of it, so far. Between things occurring in my personal life (being cryptic is the key to success) and the monumental workload I've had to endure, I more or less began to succumb to what I'm pretty sure was a series of minor panic attacks. Nothing serious, just me entering a catatonic state, perpetually contemplating where my life is right now, and having to come to terms with the fact that I have had to apply to jobs so that I might actually begin my career, and what if they don't like me, what if I get a crap job, what if I can't get a job at all, what if I screw up next practicum--
Etc. Etc.
I understand that our program must be compacted in a certain way in order to allow for our two practicums and our internship, and still be done the program in about 8 months, but given that I am not the only one in this state of mind, it's difficult to say that what we're forced to endure is in any way "good".
Let me return a second to the "applying for jobs" part of this post which I alluded to in my string of panic above. The reason why I have bothered posting today is because today, I finally sent in my application to the Toronto District School Board, thereby commencing my first round of board applications. I intend on also applying for the York Region District School Board, and perhaps for fun, either the Upper Grand District School Board (and maybe move back to Guelph?) or the Grand Erie District School Board (the board in which I experienced my own formative education). I'm gunning for the TDSB or the YRDSB, for obvious reasons of convenience. Given the language evident on the UGDSB website, the idea of getting a job there currently might be a bit of a pipe dream.
It's an exciting day, even though my language might seem to indicate that it is not. I am slightly skeptical in nature, and hesitant to state that my dream job will simply land in my lap (in contrast to what was told to us by someone at a presentation who had *just that* happen in her professional life - good for her, but this is not the norm).
It's mildly comforting to know that one of my askew puzzle tiles has finally been fitted into place - I have confirmed my internship for May. What's nice about this internship is that it opens up into an employment opportunity, which is very important to me, especially given my aforementioned skepticism.
Providing that I survive this semester, I will be excited to simply get a job. Any education-related job (that I enjoy).
Monday, January 3, 2011
New ___________
It is a custom around these parts that at the start of a new year, you have to make resolutions. I've had bad luck with resolutions in the past, so instead, I tend to make recommendations.
It is recommended that I keep practising my French so I can be the best French teacher possible.
It is recommended that I enlarge my library of history books (Canadian, mostly) so that I can be the best History teacher possible.
It is recommended that I utilize my newly-purchased copy of Wii Fit at least once a day, at least 20 minutes per day.
It is recommended that I find a job related to my career path, the sooner the better.
It is recommended that I begin planning my wedding, date TBD (but probably 2012).
It is recommended that I keep trying new recipes so that I can be more comfortable in the kitchen.
See? Resolutions aren't so bad or so unfeasible if I call them recommendations. Besides, I really need to be doing all of those things anyway, especially the "finding a job" part.
Which brings me to the next point on the agenda. Just before school let out for the holidays, I attended a Professional Preparation Conference. The name sounds big and fancy, but it was more or less a glorified job fair, with addedfirepowerworkshops. The most important part of the "conference" was the last day, when school boards from this part of the province (and beyond) set up tables and talked about why we should flood our resumes into their offices for consideration. Being a reasonable and realistic person, I got information from as many different school boards (as well as from many different non-school education job prospects) as possible. One consistent fact that I heard from most of those presentations is that January is the month to start sending in applications.
It is now January. (Duh.)
I spent some time just before the holidays polishing up my resume, which I will send to my unwitting friends for review before I fix it up further and save it as a PDF. Then I have to write three or four different cover letters, one for each school board/non-school education job, using the template that we were shown during the presentation on the first day of the conference. At some point this month, I will have to send out all of these resumes and cover letters befitting the requirements of each school board (through a third-party site or to the school board/employer itself).
Oh, and I have an interview for an internship on Wednesday.
I'm tired already.
On top of all of that, the new semester has begun. Luckily, I still get Mondays off. I no longer have the luxury of Wednesdays off, though, as my elective happens at 8:30 in the freaking morning.
Finally, some thoughts on World of Warcraft's new expansion, Cataclysm.
(No, I will not make a separate post...this post has an on-going theme of "newness", so this is probably the best time in which to discuss this bastion of nerdiness. If you want to avoid the nerdiness, now's a good time to stop reading.)
With my free time over the holidays, I got to play quite a bit of Cataclysm. Quite a bit. My moonkin is level 85, and she is fully kitted out and ready to raid. The drastic shifts in the gameplay for most classes has kept the game interesting going into its seventh year, and Blizzard has renewed its license to print money.
I feel a little bad for healers, since healing in general took a serious blow to the face. However, it's for the best. In WotLK, healers could close their eyes and make random clicks and folks would stay alive. Now healers have to relearn their respective classes and employ some strategy, effectively weeding out those who cannot make the change. Adapt or die, etc.
The current endgame is no joke. Crowd control (an expression which will be completely foreign to people who only started playing last expac) is required in instances again. This time around, though, more DPS classes have some kind of reasonable CC and some kind of silence or interrupt available to them, thereby encouraging Blizzard's policy of "bring the player, not the class".
As for the actual raiding scene...as I stated in the beginning, my moonkin is ready for raids, but has not stepped foot in one just yet. Apparently, my 10-man is going to start up either this week or next, and I will probably have to restrict my playtime to once a week, depending on what night becomes our designated "raid night". I volunteered to put myself on a DPS rotation with my good friend's rogue so that she may be able to see the content and so that I may be able to step aside and do schoolwork if necessary. It's a win-win scenario.
Of course, S will disagree with that...but that's because S wants to raid with me. WoW is kinda *our thing*...but I anticipate that he will get used to the new arrangement, and it really will be better for all of us in the long run. I will still be able to excel in school, and my 10-man will still be able to raid. I'm very excited.
And with that feeling of excitement, I will bring this post to a close. 2011 is a new year with new prospects, new interests, and (hopefully) a new job on the horizon. I am anxious to see what the next 12 months hold.
It is recommended that I keep practising my French so I can be the best French teacher possible.
It is recommended that I enlarge my library of history books (Canadian, mostly) so that I can be the best History teacher possible.
It is recommended that I utilize my newly-purchased copy of Wii Fit at least once a day, at least 20 minutes per day.
It is recommended that I find a job related to my career path, the sooner the better.
It is recommended that I begin planning my wedding, date TBD (but probably 2012).
It is recommended that I keep trying new recipes so that I can be more comfortable in the kitchen.
See? Resolutions aren't so bad or so unfeasible if I call them recommendations. Besides, I really need to be doing all of those things anyway, especially the "finding a job" part.
Which brings me to the next point on the agenda. Just before school let out for the holidays, I attended a Professional Preparation Conference. The name sounds big and fancy, but it was more or less a glorified job fair, with added
It is now January. (Duh.)
I spent some time just before the holidays polishing up my resume, which I will send to my unwitting friends for review before I fix it up further and save it as a PDF. Then I have to write three or four different cover letters, one for each school board/non-school education job, using the template that we were shown during the presentation on the first day of the conference. At some point this month, I will have to send out all of these resumes and cover letters befitting the requirements of each school board (through a third-party site or to the school board/employer itself).
Oh, and I have an interview for an internship on Wednesday.
I'm tired already.
On top of all of that, the new semester has begun. Luckily, I still get Mondays off. I no longer have the luxury of Wednesdays off, though, as my elective happens at 8:30 in the freaking morning.
Finally, some thoughts on World of Warcraft's new expansion, Cataclysm.
(No, I will not make a separate post...this post has an on-going theme of "newness", so this is probably the best time in which to discuss this bastion of nerdiness. If you want to avoid the nerdiness, now's a good time to stop reading.)
With my free time over the holidays, I got to play quite a bit of Cataclysm. Quite a bit. My moonkin is level 85, and she is fully kitted out and ready to raid. The drastic shifts in the gameplay for most classes has kept the game interesting going into its seventh year, and Blizzard has renewed its license to print money.
I feel a little bad for healers, since healing in general took a serious blow to the face. However, it's for the best. In WotLK, healers could close their eyes and make random clicks and folks would stay alive. Now healers have to relearn their respective classes and employ some strategy, effectively weeding out those who cannot make the change. Adapt or die, etc.
The current endgame is no joke. Crowd control (an expression which will be completely foreign to people who only started playing last expac) is required in instances again. This time around, though, more DPS classes have some kind of reasonable CC and some kind of silence or interrupt available to them, thereby encouraging Blizzard's policy of "bring the player, not the class".
As for the actual raiding scene...as I stated in the beginning, my moonkin is ready for raids, but has not stepped foot in one just yet. Apparently, my 10-man is going to start up either this week or next, and I will probably have to restrict my playtime to once a week, depending on what night becomes our designated "raid night". I volunteered to put myself on a DPS rotation with my good friend's rogue so that she may be able to see the content and so that I may be able to step aside and do schoolwork if necessary. It's a win-win scenario.
Of course, S will disagree with that...but that's because S wants to raid with me. WoW is kinda *our thing*...but I anticipate that he will get used to the new arrangement, and it really will be better for all of us in the long run. I will still be able to excel in school, and my 10-man will still be able to raid. I'm very excited.
And with that feeling of excitement, I will bring this post to a close. 2011 is a new year with new prospects, new interests, and (hopefully) a new job on the horizon. I am anxious to see what the next 12 months hold.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Countdown Begins - er - Continues...
It has been quite a long time since I have had any space (or time, for that matter) to myself. Practicum ended uneventfully (though it was an amazing experience, as I have alluded to before), and then suddenly we were all thrown into a meat grinder of rapid required reflection. We needed to reflect on absolutely everything...an experience that went well, something we did that we could critique so we could do better next time, alongside several informal reflections - whether alcoholic or not - with the people I have randomly dubbed "the OISE peeps" (appropriate, I know).
It has been a time of massive reflection. And reflecting is all well and good, but now I'm pretty tired of reflecting. It has hit that point where you repeat a word over and over again until the word becomes absolutely meaningless. That's pretty appropriate, actually. The process of reflecting on our teaching becomes a bit meaningless after a time. I can see the purpose of it, but something that is a weakness one day will eventually be changed upon a single reflection on the problem. Instead of hashing it out several times, graded and ungraded, why can't we just be left to our own devices to learn by doing and to do so while learning?
And so the countdown continues. A countdown to what? Well, there are actually two things for which I am "counting down", and now I will list them for you. Okay, the list is mostly for me. But if you're reading this, you might as well indulge me and read the list as well:
1) Christmas
Oh man, am I ever stoked for Christmas. Now that the plans have more or less been hashed out, I have discovered that I will be taking the train ride home for 5 days to bask in the glory of Christmas time with the family. For the first time ever, S will also be coming down to be with my family for Christmas, but he can't come until the 23rd. Whatever, small victories!
My money troubles have been quelled for now with a needs-based scholarship I received from the university. Receiving the scholarship made me realize that my OSAP debt is more or less a ticking time bomb, but now's not a very good time to REFLECT on that (there's that damn word again), so I'm just going to move on.
Slightly related to that, I managed to get my Christmas shopping mostly done. When I go home on the 21st, I will have some time to get those last-minute gifts for the people in my life for whom gift shopping is a notoriously tedious and difficult affair. Regardless, I feel (mostly) ready to begin the holidays now that my shopping is done, and also now that...
2) School is almost over (for now).
How sweet it is! Today is the last day of class for the fall semester. There's a three-day Professional Preparation Conference beginning tomorrow, but that will be useful and interesting. I managed to sleep in this morning by accident, and I missed my last FSL of the semester. Oops. However, I am in the Learning Commons waiting for History to start, and I have my last two assignments to hand in in-hand. Once I have relinquished control of these two pieces of sh--work, and once I have endured the AWESOME PARTY that will be History this afternoon (since even though today is actually a party, History class is always a party to me), I feel as though I will finally begin to count down the days until the holidays. Sure, I still have to haul ass out of bed to attend this conference from Wednesday to Friday, but...it's not quite the same as class.
So that's my personal reflection for today. Dammit, I just used that word again.
Coming soon, a post about World of Warcraft: Cataclysm. Why? Because it's out, and it's awesome, and I'll actually have time to experience it in full very soon.
It has been a time of massive reflection. And reflecting is all well and good, but now I'm pretty tired of reflecting. It has hit that point where you repeat a word over and over again until the word becomes absolutely meaningless. That's pretty appropriate, actually. The process of reflecting on our teaching becomes a bit meaningless after a time. I can see the purpose of it, but something that is a weakness one day will eventually be changed upon a single reflection on the problem. Instead of hashing it out several times, graded and ungraded, why can't we just be left to our own devices to learn by doing and to do so while learning?
And so the countdown continues. A countdown to what? Well, there are actually two things for which I am "counting down", and now I will list them for you. Okay, the list is mostly for me. But if you're reading this, you might as well indulge me and read the list as well:
1) Christmas
Oh man, am I ever stoked for Christmas. Now that the plans have more or less been hashed out, I have discovered that I will be taking the train ride home for 5 days to bask in the glory of Christmas time with the family. For the first time ever, S will also be coming down to be with my family for Christmas, but he can't come until the 23rd. Whatever, small victories!
My money troubles have been quelled for now with a needs-based scholarship I received from the university. Receiving the scholarship made me realize that my OSAP debt is more or less a ticking time bomb, but now's not a very good time to REFLECT on that (there's that damn word again), so I'm just going to move on.
Slightly related to that, I managed to get my Christmas shopping mostly done. When I go home on the 21st, I will have some time to get those last-minute gifts for the people in my life for whom gift shopping is a notoriously tedious and difficult affair. Regardless, I feel (mostly) ready to begin the holidays now that my shopping is done, and also now that...
2) School is almost over (for now).
How sweet it is! Today is the last day of class for the fall semester. There's a three-day Professional Preparation Conference beginning tomorrow, but that will be useful and interesting. I managed to sleep in this morning by accident, and I missed my last FSL of the semester. Oops. However, I am in the Learning Commons waiting for History to start, and I have my last two assignments to hand in in-hand. Once I have relinquished control of these two pieces of sh--work, and once I have endured the AWESOME PARTY that will be History this afternoon (since even though today is actually a party, History class is always a party to me), I feel as though I will finally begin to count down the days until the holidays. Sure, I still have to haul ass out of bed to attend this conference from Wednesday to Friday, but...it's not quite the same as class.
So that's my personal reflection for today. Dammit, I just used that word again.
Coming soon, a post about World of Warcraft: Cataclysm. Why? Because it's out, and it's awesome, and I'll actually have time to experience it in full very soon.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Halftime
Today, I took a trip that has become quite familiar to me.
I got on the streetcar. I took it east to the nearest subway station and rode the metro going north until I ended up at a familiar stop.
This is the way that I get to my teacher's college. But seeing as I have been doing my practicum over the past two weeks, today was the first day that I've made that trip in...well...two weeks.
Two weeks isn't exactly an eternity, but I couldn't help but feel a bit of a tug when I got off the subway and entered the school. It's strange how much of a connection I have developed with not the school itself, but its contents. Since September, I have learned a lot about teaching from at least three of my professors (won't really talk about that fourth one), and while my most crucial learnings have come from my practicum itself, I have enjoyed the toolkit my courses and colleagues have given me this year. I have also developed some fantastic connections and friendships with these aforementioned colleagues, and after being away from them for two weeks, I can legitimately state that I miss each one of them.
In fact, they're the reason why I made the trek to school today. I went out for coffee with a couple of my buddies from my program, and together we shared our practicum experiences over hot drinks and baked goods. It was nice. It also made me realize that I am eagerly anticipating that moment two weeks from now when we get to re-assemble as a cohort and share our collective wisdom gained from our four weeks in a school setting. Of course, the very fact that I'll get to simply see the faces of certain people in my program once again in two weeks also makes me quite happy indeed.
And now...I plan to spend the rest of my Saturday evening watching TV and planning a lesson to introduce Buddhism to grade 11s.
I got on the streetcar. I took it east to the nearest subway station and rode the metro going north until I ended up at a familiar stop.
This is the way that I get to my teacher's college. But seeing as I have been doing my practicum over the past two weeks, today was the first day that I've made that trip in...well...two weeks.
Two weeks isn't exactly an eternity, but I couldn't help but feel a bit of a tug when I got off the subway and entered the school. It's strange how much of a connection I have developed with not the school itself, but its contents. Since September, I have learned a lot about teaching from at least three of my professors (won't really talk about that fourth one), and while my most crucial learnings have come from my practicum itself, I have enjoyed the toolkit my courses and colleagues have given me this year. I have also developed some fantastic connections and friendships with these aforementioned colleagues, and after being away from them for two weeks, I can legitimately state that I miss each one of them.
In fact, they're the reason why I made the trek to school today. I went out for coffee with a couple of my buddies from my program, and together we shared our practicum experiences over hot drinks and baked goods. It was nice. It also made me realize that I am eagerly anticipating that moment two weeks from now when we get to re-assemble as a cohort and share our collective wisdom gained from our four weeks in a school setting. Of course, the very fact that I'll get to simply see the faces of certain people in my program once again in two weeks also makes me quite happy indeed.
And now...I plan to spend the rest of my Saturday evening watching TV and planning a lesson to introduce Buddhism to grade 11s.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Practi-cum laude
I made a pun! Ha HA! Given my current level of tiredness, that was quite a feat.
As my awesome pun would suggest, I have started my practicum. Of course, due to confidentiality, my details about said practicum must be scant at best.
What I can mention is that my practicum is amazing so far. It's only been 5 days, but these past 5 days have allowed me to grow so much as a teacher candidate. My Associate Teacher is a fantastic person who has been easing me into creating my own lessons, as well as providing me with tools and ideas for things that have worked for her in the past, while allowing me to add my own flair. Students are warmed up to me now...I noticed that they are definitely treating me as a teacher, and no longer as a stranger in their classroom. It helps that I have been actively trying to learn their names.
This practicum has reaffirmed in me that this is where I want to be. This is the profession that I ultimately want to dive into. I figured the workload would overwhelm me, but even that's not bad. It all feels natural, like this is what I should have been doing my whole life.
I constantly think about my teacher candidate colleagues. Some are struggling with their practicums (practici? Come on, Latin wasn't THAT long ago...), some have been thrown into situations where they have to teach way outside of their teachable in order to satisfy the quota of classes to teach, and some have already had to deal with absent ATs and the ethics behind assuming the role of "main teacher" in conjunction with a supply so soon into the practicum month.
I think also about how my fellow TCs have been coping with their survival. I believe that it is crucial that we lean on each other and provide each other with supports, at least of the moral variety, so that we feel encouraged about our work. I know I am speaking for myself when I say that certain aspects of my life seem to be inexplicably in the process of being tossed around, and it is important that any emotions that arise from this upheaval are dealt with far far outside the classroom. It is difficult, and I feel that separation will become increasingly difficult should the situation not change. Pardon me for being cryptic.
Overall, week 1 was a success. One down, three to go!
As my awesome pun would suggest, I have started my practicum. Of course, due to confidentiality, my details about said practicum must be scant at best.
What I can mention is that my practicum is amazing so far. It's only been 5 days, but these past 5 days have allowed me to grow so much as a teacher candidate. My Associate Teacher is a fantastic person who has been easing me into creating my own lessons, as well as providing me with tools and ideas for things that have worked for her in the past, while allowing me to add my own flair. Students are warmed up to me now...I noticed that they are definitely treating me as a teacher, and no longer as a stranger in their classroom. It helps that I have been actively trying to learn their names.
This practicum has reaffirmed in me that this is where I want to be. This is the profession that I ultimately want to dive into. I figured the workload would overwhelm me, but even that's not bad. It all feels natural, like this is what I should have been doing my whole life.
I constantly think about my teacher candidate colleagues. Some are struggling with their practicums (practici? Come on, Latin wasn't THAT long ago...), some have been thrown into situations where they have to teach way outside of their teachable in order to satisfy the quota of classes to teach, and some have already had to deal with absent ATs and the ethics behind assuming the role of "main teacher" in conjunction with a supply so soon into the practicum month.
I think also about how my fellow TCs have been coping with their survival. I believe that it is crucial that we lean on each other and provide each other with supports, at least of the moral variety, so that we feel encouraged about our work. I know I am speaking for myself when I say that certain aspects of my life seem to be inexplicably in the process of being tossed around, and it is important that any emotions that arise from this upheaval are dealt with far far outside the classroom. It is difficult, and I feel that separation will become increasingly difficult should the situation not change. Pardon me for being cryptic.
Overall, week 1 was a success. One down, three to go!
Friday, October 22, 2010
Near Future, Simple Future
I feel like I haven't had enough time to process what is going to happen to me next week.
First of all, my birthday is on Wednesday. I am VERY excited. I'm not *doing* anything, but I am excited regardless. I'm going to be 25. Some people freak out when they hit 25, since it signifies that a quarter of a century has passed. For me, hitting 25 is causing me to reflect on my personal accomplishments.
There isn't really much.
Many of my colleagues in my courses have accomplished so much in their short lives; we have former ESL teachers, people who have lived and worked abroad, writers, scholarship winners, artists...and me. What are my notable accomplishments so far?
As I sit and think on this question, I find myself in my apartment. Alone. I can stare out my window and watch the Gardiner and its steady flow of life...those people have probably done more in their lives than I. I have had many dreams, big dreams...but the only dream I have ever had that has begun to blossom is my attendance at OISE. I have many big dreams that involve my heavy involvement in school culture, education, curriculum development, the business of changing lives. That's what I want to do, where I want to be. I only wish I got here sooner.
I begin my practicum in November as a History teacher. An unexpected development; I was all but completely certain that my first practicum would have me placed in a French classroom. My excitement knows no real boundaries - I get to be involved in a school, in implementing and experimenting with lessons, in finding myself within this underestimated profession. What's not to love?
Though we are taught not to compare ourselves with others, I am sitting here finding myself doing just that. I think about where many of my colleagues have been, how enriched their lives already seem to be, and I can't help experiencing a prolonged sense of longing. I wish I could have done more. More life experiences lend directly into our role as educators. I feel that I have wasted the first half of my twenties, and while some will disagree, it would be difficult to change my mind. I have a Master's Degree, so what? So do many of my colleagues. What sets me apart from my colleagues? My relative lack of outside experience. My lack of accomplishments. My lack of granted awards, extra-curriculars, a resumé complete with extra padding. These I don't have.
This feeling is common, I think it's called the quarter-life crisis.
What depresses me the most is that some of these people in my program that I admire the most are younger than me. Think for a few minutes about how that would make you feel, and it's possible you understand.
Tonight, I raise a glass. To health, to happiness, to another 25 years. To a more productive and enriching second half of my twenties.
And to you, whoever decides to take the time out of their day to read my semi-coherent words.
First of all, my birthday is on Wednesday. I am VERY excited. I'm not *doing* anything, but I am excited regardless. I'm going to be 25. Some people freak out when they hit 25, since it signifies that a quarter of a century has passed. For me, hitting 25 is causing me to reflect on my personal accomplishments.
There isn't really much.
Many of my colleagues in my courses have accomplished so much in their short lives; we have former ESL teachers, people who have lived and worked abroad, writers, scholarship winners, artists...and me. What are my notable accomplishments so far?
As I sit and think on this question, I find myself in my apartment. Alone. I can stare out my window and watch the Gardiner and its steady flow of life...those people have probably done more in their lives than I. I have had many dreams, big dreams...but the only dream I have ever had that has begun to blossom is my attendance at OISE. I have many big dreams that involve my heavy involvement in school culture, education, curriculum development, the business of changing lives. That's what I want to do, where I want to be. I only wish I got here sooner.
I begin my practicum in November as a History teacher. An unexpected development; I was all but completely certain that my first practicum would have me placed in a French classroom. My excitement knows no real boundaries - I get to be involved in a school, in implementing and experimenting with lessons, in finding myself within this underestimated profession. What's not to love?
Though we are taught not to compare ourselves with others, I am sitting here finding myself doing just that. I think about where many of my colleagues have been, how enriched their lives already seem to be, and I can't help experiencing a prolonged sense of longing. I wish I could have done more. More life experiences lend directly into our role as educators. I feel that I have wasted the first half of my twenties, and while some will disagree, it would be difficult to change my mind. I have a Master's Degree, so what? So do many of my colleagues. What sets me apart from my colleagues? My relative lack of outside experience. My lack of accomplishments. My lack of granted awards, extra-curriculars, a resumé complete with extra padding. These I don't have.
This feeling is common, I think it's called the quarter-life crisis.
What depresses me the most is that some of these people in my program that I admire the most are younger than me. Think for a few minutes about how that would make you feel, and it's possible you understand.
Tonight, I raise a glass. To health, to happiness, to another 25 years. To a more productive and enriching second half of my twenties.
And to you, whoever decides to take the time out of their day to read my semi-coherent words.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Procrastination
This week is going to probably be one of my most stressful weeks of the semester. I have a lesson plan and a grammar worksheet (of sorts) due on Friday, a group presentation Thursday and I am spending all day tomorrow at a high school.
You'd think I'd be working.
Nope.
It's not exactly a want for motivation, per se. I am simply a chronic procrastinator. I have always been this way. Somehow, a switch just goes off in my head when it's time for me to not work, and instead I find myself trolling the internet, watching TV with my cat, reading, or indulging myself with unearned video game time. I also tend to fall victim to the "I can't work with a messy condo" syndrome and end up doing a full clean sweep of the whole living space, most of which ends up being completely unnecessary. I think everyone does that.
This blog is more or less a procrastination piece. Food for thought.
In other news, I found out about my practicum! I get to teach history!
EEP.
Here I was, panicking about whether or not I knew enough about French to justify me teaching it, and now I need to shift that panic toward figuring out whether or not I know enough about CANADIAN HISTORY to justify teaching that as well. Our wonderful professor gave us some strategies and book recommendations to get our Canadian history knowledge in check, so I hope to be able to work on some of that before Orientation next week. We'll see. It's bad enough that my lesson plan is going to be for a unit that I already find relatively dull, now the odds are very high that I will be relegated to TEACHING it next month. Sounds like it is time for me to develop strategies to make history fun.
I don't think I can justify sitting on my butt any longer, I gotta get back to work.
I'll post more fruitfully when I'm not buried under giant mounds of work.
Ciao!
You'd think I'd be working.
Nope.
It's not exactly a want for motivation, per se. I am simply a chronic procrastinator. I have always been this way. Somehow, a switch just goes off in my head when it's time for me to not work, and instead I find myself trolling the internet, watching TV with my cat, reading, or indulging myself with unearned video game time. I also tend to fall victim to the "I can't work with a messy condo" syndrome and end up doing a full clean sweep of the whole living space, most of which ends up being completely unnecessary. I think everyone does that.
This blog is more or less a procrastination piece. Food for thought.
In other news, I found out about my practicum! I get to teach history!
EEP.
Here I was, panicking about whether or not I knew enough about French to justify me teaching it, and now I need to shift that panic toward figuring out whether or not I know enough about CANADIAN HISTORY to justify teaching that as well. Our wonderful professor gave us some strategies and book recommendations to get our Canadian history knowledge in check, so I hope to be able to work on some of that before Orientation next week. We'll see. It's bad enough that my lesson plan is going to be for a unit that I already find relatively dull, now the odds are very high that I will be relegated to TEACHING it next month. Sounds like it is time for me to develop strategies to make history fun.
I don't think I can justify sitting on my butt any longer, I gotta get back to work.
I'll post more fruitfully when I'm not buried under giant mounds of work.
Ciao!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thanksgiving
It's *amazing* how much more productive I am when I feel sick. I decided to stay home from school today, since when I woke up this morning, I was achy, I had little-to-no appetite, and it felt as if I was nursing a hangover when I hadn't so much as had a single drop of alcohol the previous evening. Since I am trying very very hard to keep myself as healthy as possible, I took this as my queue to take a personal day, catch up on some sleep, and medicate appropriately so I might feel better in time for Thanksgiving.
13 hours later, I do feel 100% better. If I had some kind of bug, it left before it could outstay its welcome.
And it is kinda funny...we have a lesson plan due next Friday for my FSL class, and I think I'm almost done mine already. I spent about an hour on it this evening, since I already had an idea of what I wanted to do, and aside from completely laying it out and ironing out the creases, I think I have a solid lesson plan complete. I guess forcing yourself to be confined to a certain space for an afternoon can help one's productivity.
But as I was working, I was thinking in the back of my mind about Thanksgiving, as my ultimate goal for today was to feel better before my first dinner tomorrow night. I composed a list of things I am thankful for this year.
"What I am thankful for", 2010 Edition:
* Transitioning into my life in Toronto in a somewhat seamless fashion;
* Meeting the fantastic people in my program (and some less-than-fantastic individuals, because even they bring joy in the form of laughter or anecdotes over alcohol);
* The school for whom I am currently volunteering before November, since they have been a great model so far for me and a decent gauge of expectations before my first practicum;
* S, as S is my rock, and that person who helps me keep my feet on the ground, even if he does so while playing video games or engaging in various other forms of nerdiness;
* My cat, because studies show that petting a cat can help lower your blood pressure, and man did I ever need lowering of my blood pressure A LOT since last Thanksgiving;
* The Starbucks by my house, because most of the baristas know me by name, they always genuinely ask about my day, and are fantastic people in and of themselves;
* My family, who tries very hard to help me out even though I should be completely financially independent by now, and who doesn't mind it when I take whirlwind trips home to have them guide me through bureaucratic nonsense that I simply can't seem to handle by myself;
* My online family, those people I hang out with in video games or simply over MSN or AIM, since I have made and maintained valuable friendships because of certain online universes.
Of course, I've probably missed something, or lots of things, but this is a sampling of what I am thankful for this year. Have you thought about what you're thankful for yet?
Well, if you're American, you technically don't have to think about it yet. Whatever, just humour me a little.
13 hours later, I do feel 100% better. If I had some kind of bug, it left before it could outstay its welcome.
And it is kinda funny...we have a lesson plan due next Friday for my FSL class, and I think I'm almost done mine already. I spent about an hour on it this evening, since I already had an idea of what I wanted to do, and aside from completely laying it out and ironing out the creases, I think I have a solid lesson plan complete. I guess forcing yourself to be confined to a certain space for an afternoon can help one's productivity.
But as I was working, I was thinking in the back of my mind about Thanksgiving, as my ultimate goal for today was to feel better before my first dinner tomorrow night. I composed a list of things I am thankful for this year.
"What I am thankful for", 2010 Edition:
* Transitioning into my life in Toronto in a somewhat seamless fashion;
* Meeting the fantastic people in my program (and some less-than-fantastic individuals, because even they bring joy in the form of laughter or anecdotes over alcohol);
* The school for whom I am currently volunteering before November, since they have been a great model so far for me and a decent gauge of expectations before my first practicum;
* S, as S is my rock, and that person who helps me keep my feet on the ground, even if he does so while playing video games or engaging in various other forms of nerdiness;
* My cat, because studies show that petting a cat can help lower your blood pressure, and man did I ever need lowering of my blood pressure A LOT since last Thanksgiving;
* The Starbucks by my house, because most of the baristas know me by name, they always genuinely ask about my day, and are fantastic people in and of themselves;
* My family, who tries very hard to help me out even though I should be completely financially independent by now, and who doesn't mind it when I take whirlwind trips home to have them guide me through bureaucratic nonsense that I simply can't seem to handle by myself;
* My online family, those people I hang out with in video games or simply over MSN or AIM, since I have made and maintained valuable friendships because of certain online universes.
Of course, I've probably missed something, or lots of things, but this is a sampling of what I am thankful for this year. Have you thought about what you're thankful for yet?
Well, if you're American, you technically don't have to think about it yet. Whatever, just humour me a little.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
This is not a post.
So, I have decided to do a bit of reflecting upon the last few weeks of school, and also talk briefly of the madness to come.
Teacher's College has been fantastic thus far. We're in our first week of October, and I am facing about the same amount of workload that I expected to be facing when I applied to Teacher's College in the first place. If you look in my planner, you'll see that each Tuesday (and to a lesser extent, each Thursday and Friday) of each week in October has a little sticker on it. A sticker means that I have to do something or hand something in. That's right, I basically have between 2-3 things to hand in or to do each week this month.
Our narrator calmly sips from her tall cafe mocha from Starbucks. Mmmm...consumerism.
It hasn't fazed me so far. Yeah, there's a lot to do. But I keep reminding myself that I just got finished writing a paper that was about the size of a small apartment before I started Teacher's College. I changed the topic of said paper after already doing a whole semester of research, causing me to start an entire Master's-level thesis paper from scratch...twice. In doing so, I developed stupidly amazing time management skills since this time last year, I was balancing 6 hours of class with about 3-4 hours of related reading per course each week, PLUS TAing for a demanding survey course in the Classics department, spending between 5-6 hours per week attending the aforementioned class or assisting students or grading or creating exam questions or preparing my guest lecture, PLUS RESEARCHING FOR THE PAPER I NEEDED TO WRITE BEFORE APRIL TO GRADUATE IN EVERY EXTRA HOUR OF EVERY DAY. Let's also not forget the nights I stayed up late, terrified to go to sleep, since I'd have to wake up the next day and complete another 16-17 hour day of class/TAing/researching/beginning outlines and drafts.
Our intrepid narrator continues calmly sipping coffee.
So, you see...while there's a lot to do, I'm not exactly worried. I am in a much better mental state than this time last year.
Oh yes, I wanted to talk more about Teacher's College. We are asked, as teacher candidates (I love that saying - teacher candidates...reminds me of MA candidate, which I was just last year) to put in 10-15 hours of volunteer work at a high school in our area. We are assigned to a teacher, much like our practicum, but we won't be responsible for lessons...simply hanging out in the classroom, observing how the teacher does things, helping students as necessary, and maybe leading an activity with a class, if there is time/space to do so. The teacher I get to hang out with for this volunteer project, I feel, is basically me 10 years into the future.
Seriously, she even looks like me.
We have the same attitude about teaching, she maintains her classes in about the same way I would like to maintain mine...it's like my TES instructor paired me off with someone who not only matched my teachable, but my personality. The students are fantastic, and do revere her with more respect than I tend to see given to FSL instructors. I kinda half-assedly hope one of my practicums ends up in that school, no joke.
Speaking of practicum, could I be more excited for that or what? I find out in only nine days where my first practicum will be held, and whether it will be for my first teachable (French) or my second teachable (History). I understand that when I actually get to my practicum, the difficulty level will shoot through the roof. We basically get thrown into the deep end, and we'll have to stay on top of our collective games by creating coherent and interesting lesson plans which we will test drive on our students, and we will have to practise whatever skills we have developed in classroom management. (Thank goodness I attended a workshop about classroom management earlier last month instead of going home to sleep like I so desperately wanted to do.) We will also get to help with extracurricular activities, one of the aspects of practicum for which I am almost the most excited.
I attended a workshop last night on integrating web pages into our instruction, and it just got me so excited to carve out my niche as a teacher. It seems like a random tangent, but honestly...I hope to develop a classroom website when I get started, so that my students can do things like collect handouts they missed from being absent, or check out neat content-related links I post up there. I'm excited about developing a rapport with students, and about using technology to help them develop their own intrinsic motivation. It's all just awesome.
So that's where I'm at right now. Teacher's College is awesome. There's a lot to do, but I'm managing, and I get more and more excited each day to see what I will do in a classroom setting.
Teacher's College has been fantastic thus far. We're in our first week of October, and I am facing about the same amount of workload that I expected to be facing when I applied to Teacher's College in the first place. If you look in my planner, you'll see that each Tuesday (and to a lesser extent, each Thursday and Friday) of each week in October has a little sticker on it. A sticker means that I have to do something or hand something in. That's right, I basically have between 2-3 things to hand in or to do each week this month.
Our narrator calmly sips from her tall cafe mocha from Starbucks. Mmmm...consumerism.
It hasn't fazed me so far. Yeah, there's a lot to do. But I keep reminding myself that I just got finished writing a paper that was about the size of a small apartment before I started Teacher's College. I changed the topic of said paper after already doing a whole semester of research, causing me to start an entire Master's-level thesis paper from scratch...twice. In doing so, I developed stupidly amazing time management skills since this time last year, I was balancing 6 hours of class with about 3-4 hours of related reading per course each week, PLUS TAing for a demanding survey course in the Classics department, spending between 5-6 hours per week attending the aforementioned class or assisting students or grading or creating exam questions or preparing my guest lecture, PLUS RESEARCHING FOR THE PAPER I NEEDED TO WRITE BEFORE APRIL TO GRADUATE IN EVERY EXTRA HOUR OF EVERY DAY. Let's also not forget the nights I stayed up late, terrified to go to sleep, since I'd have to wake up the next day and complete another 16-17 hour day of class/TAing/researching/beginning outlines and drafts.
Our intrepid narrator continues calmly sipping coffee.
So, you see...while there's a lot to do, I'm not exactly worried. I am in a much better mental state than this time last year.
Oh yes, I wanted to talk more about Teacher's College. We are asked, as teacher candidates (I love that saying - teacher candidates...reminds me of MA candidate, which I was just last year) to put in 10-15 hours of volunteer work at a high school in our area. We are assigned to a teacher, much like our practicum, but we won't be responsible for lessons...simply hanging out in the classroom, observing how the teacher does things, helping students as necessary, and maybe leading an activity with a class, if there is time/space to do so. The teacher I get to hang out with for this volunteer project, I feel, is basically me 10 years into the future.
Seriously, she even looks like me.
We have the same attitude about teaching, she maintains her classes in about the same way I would like to maintain mine...it's like my TES instructor paired me off with someone who not only matched my teachable, but my personality. The students are fantastic, and do revere her with more respect than I tend to see given to FSL instructors. I kinda half-assedly hope one of my practicums ends up in that school, no joke.
Speaking of practicum, could I be more excited for that or what? I find out in only nine days where my first practicum will be held, and whether it will be for my first teachable (French) or my second teachable (History). I understand that when I actually get to my practicum, the difficulty level will shoot through the roof. We basically get thrown into the deep end, and we'll have to stay on top of our collective games by creating coherent and interesting lesson plans which we will test drive on our students, and we will have to practise whatever skills we have developed in classroom management. (Thank goodness I attended a workshop about classroom management earlier last month instead of going home to sleep like I so desperately wanted to do.) We will also get to help with extracurricular activities, one of the aspects of practicum for which I am almost the most excited.
I attended a workshop last night on integrating web pages into our instruction, and it just got me so excited to carve out my niche as a teacher. It seems like a random tangent, but honestly...I hope to develop a classroom website when I get started, so that my students can do things like collect handouts they missed from being absent, or check out neat content-related links I post up there. I'm excited about developing a rapport with students, and about using technology to help them develop their own intrinsic motivation. It's all just awesome.
So that's where I'm at right now. Teacher's College is awesome. There's a lot to do, but I'm managing, and I get more and more excited each day to see what I will do in a classroom setting.
Monday, September 20, 2010
The Problem with Self-Reflection
As I alluded to in the previous post, I have officially started Teacher's College. It has been an amazing and surreal experience so far. I sense that everything will fly by in a crazy blur of activity until November, when the REAL fun begins.
It's funny, though. I am only taking four courses this semester, and I am only on-campus for three days of the week, but by last Friday, I was SPENT. There is much to learn, and I know that a few of these courses will be intellectually exhausting as we begin to cram in knowledge of our provincial curriculum for our subjects of choice, and as we begin to prepare our professional portfolios.
All Teacher Candidates (TCs) have to create a professional portfolio. These portfolios include our philosophy of education statement, our resumes, some "artifacts" (basically samples of activities or lessons we have planned, and a summary of whether or not we implemented them, whether it was good, etc) and so on. As a language teacher, my portfolio will also include a separate "portfolio langagier" (language portfolio), which also highlights our linguistic identity(ies) as well as our strengths and weaknesses in the French language. Over the weekend, I began to work on this portfolio langagier, since the rough drafts of our statement on our linguistic identity and of our "plan d'action" detailing our strengths and weaknesses are due at the beginning of October. Unfortunately, the process of creating the statement on our linguistic identity has opened a wound which I have been struggling to keep shut for a very long time.
I am an anglophone by default. I am bilingual by choice. My parents both speak English, as does my entire extended family. I am less of a francophone these days as I am a francophile. I love French culture, French movies, French music, and I stand up for myself when people say disparaging things about the French people (a defense that I have had to make several times to people who just don't understand that country I love so much). In my heart, I am as much a franco as someone who was born and raised in France or Quebec. However, aside from a painfully short trip to Quebec City for our grade 12 French class, I have never visited any francophone country or region, ever.
That statement might not sound terrible to you, but it has been a source of my inner turmoil for several years. I struggle even now to try and talk about it.
My family has never been that well off. We lived *comfortably*, but we were never in a place where we could splurge on many things. We never went on vacation, except to a cottage that we would rent from a parishioner that went to my father's church. I think my parents visited England once, in 1980. That was before I was born.
Because I was gifted in French, my teachers always tried to tell me that I should go on an exchange to France. I adored this idea, but my family could never afford it. Each year in high school, I was approached by different people (my French teacher, members of the Rotary Association, among others) and asked if I would consider going abroad. I always had to respond that I would love to, but I couldn't. In university, my program offered a third-year exchange to Nice. Couldn't do that, either. My friend-now-fiancé S planned a trip to visit his mother who was living in France a few years ago. I would never have been able to fund the trip myself with my financial aid, so I asked my parents. I think you will have seen a pattern by now.
It goes well beyond the idea that I simply "couldn't" go.
It has taken me some time to think of an appropriate analogy, so here is my best effort.
Let's say that your family is Irish. You are extremely proud of this heritage, and you do what you can to honour it by eating Irish food, listening to Irish (and Irish-inspired) music, trying your hand at the Gaelic language and dreaming of the green fields of Eire as you sleep. As far as you are concerned, you are an Irish (wo)man in a Canadian's body. You are given a great opportunity to tour Ireland with some friends, who like the idea of going to Ireland, but who aren't simply innately Irish like you are. But you? You cannot go.
That has been the story of my francophone existence since the beginning of high school.
Studies have shown that people who are immersed in a culture and language pick up on it much faster (minus the grammar, which usually suffers without formal instruction) than those who are forced to simply study the language in school. My beloved colleagues in my FSL foundations course have, for the most part, spent time in a francophone region, whether for an exchange or working as an ESL teacher in a francophone country. Their French is melodic and natural. They don't struggle to find their words, and they don't have to think about the translation of basically anything from English into French. But oh man, watch out, because if they have to recite the rules of the subjunctive...I guess I'll excel?
The major problem with this self-reflection, such as my portfolio langagier as well as this blog, is dealing head-on with pain which has been tucked away for a long time. But I suppose that's the point?
It's funny, though. I am only taking four courses this semester, and I am only on-campus for three days of the week, but by last Friday, I was SPENT. There is much to learn, and I know that a few of these courses will be intellectually exhausting as we begin to cram in knowledge of our provincial curriculum for our subjects of choice, and as we begin to prepare our professional portfolios.
All Teacher Candidates (TCs) have to create a professional portfolio. These portfolios include our philosophy of education statement, our resumes, some "artifacts" (basically samples of activities or lessons we have planned, and a summary of whether or not we implemented them, whether it was good, etc) and so on. As a language teacher, my portfolio will also include a separate "portfolio langagier" (language portfolio), which also highlights our linguistic identity(ies) as well as our strengths and weaknesses in the French language. Over the weekend, I began to work on this portfolio langagier, since the rough drafts of our statement on our linguistic identity and of our "plan d'action" detailing our strengths and weaknesses are due at the beginning of October. Unfortunately, the process of creating the statement on our linguistic identity has opened a wound which I have been struggling to keep shut for a very long time.
I am an anglophone by default. I am bilingual by choice. My parents both speak English, as does my entire extended family. I am less of a francophone these days as I am a francophile. I love French culture, French movies, French music, and I stand up for myself when people say disparaging things about the French people (a defense that I have had to make several times to people who just don't understand that country I love so much). In my heart, I am as much a franco as someone who was born and raised in France or Quebec. However, aside from a painfully short trip to Quebec City for our grade 12 French class, I have never visited any francophone country or region, ever.
That statement might not sound terrible to you, but it has been a source of my inner turmoil for several years. I struggle even now to try and talk about it.
My family has never been that well off. We lived *comfortably*, but we were never in a place where we could splurge on many things. We never went on vacation, except to a cottage that we would rent from a parishioner that went to my father's church. I think my parents visited England once, in 1980. That was before I was born.
Because I was gifted in French, my teachers always tried to tell me that I should go on an exchange to France. I adored this idea, but my family could never afford it. Each year in high school, I was approached by different people (my French teacher, members of the Rotary Association, among others) and asked if I would consider going abroad. I always had to respond that I would love to, but I couldn't. In university, my program offered a third-year exchange to Nice. Couldn't do that, either. My friend-now-fiancé S planned a trip to visit his mother who was living in France a few years ago. I would never have been able to fund the trip myself with my financial aid, so I asked my parents. I think you will have seen a pattern by now.
It goes well beyond the idea that I simply "couldn't" go.
It has taken me some time to think of an appropriate analogy, so here is my best effort.
Let's say that your family is Irish. You are extremely proud of this heritage, and you do what you can to honour it by eating Irish food, listening to Irish (and Irish-inspired) music, trying your hand at the Gaelic language and dreaming of the green fields of Eire as you sleep. As far as you are concerned, you are an Irish (wo)man in a Canadian's body. You are given a great opportunity to tour Ireland with some friends, who like the idea of going to Ireland, but who aren't simply innately Irish like you are. But you? You cannot go.
That has been the story of my francophone existence since the beginning of high school.
Studies have shown that people who are immersed in a culture and language pick up on it much faster (minus the grammar, which usually suffers without formal instruction) than those who are forced to simply study the language in school. My beloved colleagues in my FSL foundations course have, for the most part, spent time in a francophone region, whether for an exchange or working as an ESL teacher in a francophone country. Their French is melodic and natural. They don't struggle to find their words, and they don't have to think about the translation of basically anything from English into French. But oh man, watch out, because if they have to recite the rules of the subjunctive...I guess I'll excel?
The major problem with this self-reflection, such as my portfolio langagier as well as this blog, is dealing head-on with pain which has been tucked away for a long time. But I suppose that's the point?
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Zen of Waiting in Line
On Wednesday, September 8th, I woke up bright and early to attend my orientation and registration day at my new university for my new program. After bumbling my way around to try and catch a streetcar, I managed to make it to the building...only to find a line-up outside the door which was about the length of a city block.
This set the tone for the day.
I stood in four different lines that day, costing me about an hour and a half of my time. I stood in line to receive my registration package, complete with class and day schedule and sticker indicating which of two welcome assemblies to attend. This was about a 20 minute wait. I then stood in line to get my picture taken so that my instructors might get to know who I am (a line which was about the size of the lineup outside, except centralized in a cramped hallway, and doubled upon itself). Also about a 20 minute wait.
After the wonderful welcome ceremony, I went upstairs to find the room in which I was to process my financial aid. Very surprisingly, this would prove to be the shortest line of the day. 2-3 minutes tops.
Just a quick side note is needed here. Whenever I have had to wait in line for said financial aid at my old university, I would have to bring a pillow and a book, and expect to miss a class if I had less than 30 minutes before its commencement. This university is about 3-4 times larger (I'm guessing), so my comparably small 2 minute wait was dumbfounding and simultaneously pretty amazing.
That was line number 3.
Line number 4 is where things got pretty epic. After our obligatory cohort meeting, wherein we got to meet our instructors and fellow students, we were given a small textbook list and told that it would be "a good idea" to go purchase them before Monday, since the lineup by then would be "pretty hectic".
Taking those words to heart, I sought the store with the books that I would need.
There was a lineup from the door to the counter, which was probably about 20 meters away.
I stood in that line for 40 minutes.
40 minutes.
But by this point, the extensive standing and waiting had ceased to phase me.
Earlier in the day, I had gone to a welcome assembly, which was led by the Dean of my department. The Associate Dean made a wonderful speech about how Teacher's College will be an experience which is similar to the experience of riding a roller coaster. Everything up until our first practicum is the slow ascent; our careful preparation. The in-class practicum itself would be the first major ride down, complete with loops and the general feeling of helplessness and panic combined with adrenaline. It would be both exhilarating and completely terrifying, but by the end, you will be sad to get off the ride.
This part? The part that involves standing in line and waiting for basically everything this past Wednesday? This was exactly like waiting in line to get on the roller coaster itself. I felt agitated at the fact that I even had to wait, but I didn't want to leave, since I didn't want to lose my spot, and I really, really, really wanted to get to the front so I could get the stuff I needed to get on the ride. Knowing that I just needed to endure these short spurts of standing completely still and waiting for an extensive period of time was basically torture, but I felt surprisingly calm, since I knew I would eventually reach the front of the line and do the next thing necessary to prepare for my wild ride. I wasn't bored, far from it. I was happy to be there, as I am happy now to wait for Tuesday, when I start my first set of classes.
Though I have to say, I felt really bad for the folks who waited in line for textbooks behind me, since as I left, I noticed that the line had quadrupled in size, as it went out the door, and down the street about 80 meters.
Suckers.
This set the tone for the day.
I stood in four different lines that day, costing me about an hour and a half of my time. I stood in line to receive my registration package, complete with class and day schedule and sticker indicating which of two welcome assemblies to attend. This was about a 20 minute wait. I then stood in line to get my picture taken so that my instructors might get to know who I am (a line which was about the size of the lineup outside, except centralized in a cramped hallway, and doubled upon itself). Also about a 20 minute wait.
After the wonderful welcome ceremony, I went upstairs to find the room in which I was to process my financial aid. Very surprisingly, this would prove to be the shortest line of the day. 2-3 minutes tops.
Just a quick side note is needed here. Whenever I have had to wait in line for said financial aid at my old university, I would have to bring a pillow and a book, and expect to miss a class if I had less than 30 minutes before its commencement. This university is about 3-4 times larger (I'm guessing), so my comparably small 2 minute wait was dumbfounding and simultaneously pretty amazing.
That was line number 3.
Line number 4 is where things got pretty epic. After our obligatory cohort meeting, wherein we got to meet our instructors and fellow students, we were given a small textbook list and told that it would be "a good idea" to go purchase them before Monday, since the lineup by then would be "pretty hectic".
Taking those words to heart, I sought the store with the books that I would need.
There was a lineup from the door to the counter, which was probably about 20 meters away.
I stood in that line for 40 minutes.
40 minutes.
But by this point, the extensive standing and waiting had ceased to phase me.
Earlier in the day, I had gone to a welcome assembly, which was led by the Dean of my department. The Associate Dean made a wonderful speech about how Teacher's College will be an experience which is similar to the experience of riding a roller coaster. Everything up until our first practicum is the slow ascent; our careful preparation. The in-class practicum itself would be the first major ride down, complete with loops and the general feeling of helplessness and panic combined with adrenaline. It would be both exhilarating and completely terrifying, but by the end, you will be sad to get off the ride.
This part? The part that involves standing in line and waiting for basically everything this past Wednesday? This was exactly like waiting in line to get on the roller coaster itself. I felt agitated at the fact that I even had to wait, but I didn't want to leave, since I didn't want to lose my spot, and I really, really, really wanted to get to the front so I could get the stuff I needed to get on the ride. Knowing that I just needed to endure these short spurts of standing completely still and waiting for an extensive period of time was basically torture, but I felt surprisingly calm, since I knew I would eventually reach the front of the line and do the next thing necessary to prepare for my wild ride. I wasn't bored, far from it. I was happy to be there, as I am happy now to wait for Tuesday, when I start my first set of classes.
Though I have to say, I felt really bad for the folks who waited in line for textbooks behind me, since as I left, I noticed that the line had quadrupled in size, as it went out the door, and down the street about 80 meters.
Suckers.
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