What I had hoped for today’s slice was a reflection on how our new and improved read aloud routine was going. On Friday afternoon, Kim and I met with Ana for an impromptu coaching session to rethink interactive read aloud and how to make it work better for us. We’d taken a month-long hiatus what with all the events before spring break and the debate on Friday (which was so friggin’ awesome, by the way, but that’s for another post), so we were eager to start again.
We gathered our ideas, Ana and I exchanged some voice notes on WhatsApp, and then yesterday, before a brief conversation at lunch, I made some new anchor charts and Kim and I planned out the questions.
“Girl,” Ana texted when I sent her the charts. “Please blog about this.”
“That’s my plan for tomorrow’s slice!” I wrote back.
The plan was for me to model this week. We’d figure out the teacher think-alouds and turn-and-talks together, but I’d take the lead on teaching, we’d debrief each day, and I’d help get the kids comfortable with the routine before gradually releasing Kim to lead the teaching next week.
Of course, things don’t always go to plan. Is that why, in Reggio, we call lesson plans “projections”?
At 5 am, I awoke to a loud bang and the sound of running water. The refrigerator filter I’d replaced last night broke inside its canister, spewing water everywhere. I didn’t know where the water shut off was and building maintenance didn’t arrive until 6:50 am. I watched the water seep out into the hallway, pooling on the rug, feeling my heart beating and my anxiety rippling through my body, nowhere to go as I had nothing more I could do.
Since then, the water has been shut off in my entire apartment (meaning I’m using the bathrooms on the amenities floor any time I need to go), the leaking has stopped and been mostly cleaned up (just drying now), and there is an appliance technician on the way (you know how those things go — it’s a waiting game).
Like a trooper, Kim took over writer’s workshop, math, and read aloud with maybe only a little bit of fear, and I know she knocked it out of the park even if she doesn’t think she did.
We caught up on the phone when the kids went to PE, and she said something along the lines of, “It’s like you have a plan, and then the plan goes out the window when you teach. Or, it just never goes as well as you plan for it to.”
Welcome to teaching, where you never know what you’re going to get that day, and just have to go with it. You can only plan so much. It’s the nature of a job where you work with so many (little) humans.
At this point I am over-exhausted. I’ve been getting sick, with a scratchy throat and a painful swallow, so maybe the universe wanted me to stay home? But I certainly haven’t gotten any rest.
Today I may not have taught read aloud, but I have: learned how to shut off the water in my apartment; befriended five of the employees in the building; managed a handyman issue without my handyman (Dad’s in San Francisco this week, so he’s on west coast time); watched a movie; leaned on my friends and felt their hugs through their messages; and written this slice.
Now it’s time to close my eyes and see if I can sneak in a nap before the technician arrives.
Writing With Abandon 