Teacher moment

My students struggle with the words were and where. Yesterday, while standing in the front of my classroom I wrote both of the words on the board. I then asked my students to point to the word 'where'. When only two out of my eight correctly answered I asked my class to be quiet so we could have some thinking silence. I then had a teacher moment.

I turned back to the board and made the h in where darker. As my students watched, I began asking how the two words looked different. One of them explained that where has an h and were are all small letters. I then made the connection that the w in where can't see the rest of the word because h is a tall letter and blocks its way. I then had them hold their hand up to the forehead, pretend to look around for the rest of the word and say, "hmmm, now where can it be?"

Today I gave a pop quiz during spelling and included these two words. My students correctly spelled the two. One student who struggles with spelling got really excited after spelling the word and when asked how he remembered the difference he mimicked my hand to forehead motion and said that the w can't see where the rest of the word is because the h is blocking his way.

I was so proud of him and proud of myself for finding a way for my students to remember the difference. It's an incredible feeling, watching my students learn and knowing that I have something to do with their progress.

More student work

I'm not sure if my readers (aka parents and sister) find these posts at all interesting but I can't help myself. I've noticed that on the nights when I don't have tutoring I will sometimes go from 3 PM until 6:30 AM without talking, the time I get off the bus to the time I get back on. Well, that's not always the case when I bring my students' journals home to correct. As you can see, they write what they are thinking and don't try and sugar coat their feelings. Their entries usually make me laugh and comment out loud, which then makes me feel like a weirdo for having such a great time when no one else around.

Side note: I cannot remember why my students were so fascinated with ice but for some odd reason we must have been talking about it because as you'll see it popped up in several of their letters.


Dear, M, Rebecca
How you live on ice and it so big? And is brocken? And Is to cold and next to your house a kyte and you can go out?

br friend,
I like my frends thay likes me. I like soccer, backit ball. I am a good boy and my frend is good olso. Thay no how to hlp me.


Dear Ms. Rebecca,
Thank you for celebrating My birthday party Ms. Rebecca, But they didn't gave me presents just beacuse Ms. L don't let them bring presents for me but It's was the best birthday party ever.
Love,
H

Dear Ms. Rebecca
Yesterday I have fun in H's birthday and he brang sanwichs, Juices and the cake and it pictured like a shark. is there ice land in america?

Dear Ms Rebecca,
Thank you for celeberating my birthday Ms. Rebecca. I am an ogre.

On one day there was a dragon. He was furious. He did bad things. He didn't let anyone come to his house. He bluw fire on the town and he blew our bank. He blow the place where we have breakfast and he blow dire on the obat. The people threw fire at him. All the people hated him. He cried and he went home. He asked his mom, "why do people hate me?" "Because you are blowing a building where people work in." He went back to the town and fixed the building and he said sorry to everyone and everyone liked him.

And one quote for good measure:
(After completing a lesson on prefixes)
S: miss can you move my face I'm being quiet.
R: This is talking out which is the opposite of being quiet.
S: Oh... I'm being un-quiet.

Like mother, like daughter

In honor of the “most special day of the whole year” (my mother’s birthday), this post is for her.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Like father, like son”. What about “Like mother, like daughter”? I’ve recently discovered that I have inherited many of my mother’s mannerisms, several of which I still tease her about.

The first one that I have just recently noticed occurs when I am in the kitchen. While growing up, both of my parents shared in cooking dinner. I can remember my father being a pro-chef at Hamburger Helper Stronganoff and pasta with meat sauce and my mom going through her various food phases, sometimes trying to pass off portabella mushrooms or veggie burgers as beef hamburgers and other times bringing home a treat like Burger King. Regardless of what my mom was cooking, I can remember how she would always have a dish towel draped over one of her shoulders; making it easy for her to wipe her hands in between stirring soup, chopping vegetables or doing dishes. I haven’t done much cooking here in Kuwait, but not because I don’t know how to. I enjoy cooking but have a hard time spending a lot of time and effort making a nice meal for just me. However, when I am in my kitchen adding some lemon or garlic to a bowl of hummus or cutting up an apple to eat with some peanut butter, you can almost always find me with a towel draped over my shoulder.

I’m not exactly sure when my mom started to change out her old pots and pans to her new pride and joy – Emeril cookware. She loves food and loves cooking, and let me tell you, she also loves these pots and pans. In order to take care of her cookware she makes sure that anyone who uses these pans cleans them right away and always uses Bar Keepers Friend so that they stay looking sparkly and brand new. I used to sigh loudly after offering to help clean up and seeing the number of dishes my mother had created (this, by the way, is one characteristic I have not adopted). I also knew that if I chose to skimp on the scrubbing or conveniently “forget” to use Bar Keepers Friend that she would make a comment to let me know she was on to me. This past August, a few days before leaving for Kuwait, my mom surprised me with a beautiful Emeril frying and sauce pan. I used the sauce pan during my first week to heat some water for tea but have barely touched it since. I couldn’t stand the sight of water drops and seeing the copper ring on the bottom of the pan a dull brown instead of the bright and shiny color I have grown so accustomed to. Pathetic..

The older I get, the more people comment and say how much I look like my mom. Despite my cousin Rachel who is the spitting image of my mother at her age, I can see some of the similarities that we share in our faces. We hold the same smile, which stays on our face for the majority of the day. Of course there are times when we cry, another commonality which runs through the blood of the Minors, but for the most part we are seen by others and asked, “Do you ever stop smiling?” We also have the ability to entertain children with our noses – “Wow, it’s so long. Hey you look like Rudolph”, after forgetting to put on sunscreen… I’m not getting into it, sensitive subject.

We also have the habit of not being able to stop talking about food. “Oh wow! This is sooo good. Mmmm.” In no way are we quiet eaters but that’s what makes it fun going out to eat with her, most of the time :)

I know there are countless of other qualities that we share, many of which I adopted without realizing and have now become engrained in who I am. We both chose to go into care-taker professions, love having our feet rubbed and can’t get enough of St. John and the ocean. She’s the best mother in the whole world. And I hope that this short post serves as a small reminder as to how much I love her. Happy birthday Mommy.