Mommy Morah

A bit of self reflection before Rosh Hashana... Found this short draft from April: I'm disappointed with myself. I cut back on work for the express purpose of being more available for my family. It's been two months and I still haven't gotten my act together. Take tonight for instance: When the kids came home from school today I served dinner and hung out with them. But then I started to feel a bit restless, and as bedtime drew near, I started marking tests when I should have been dressing the little 'uns in p-jams. And now: The next term I increased my teaching load from one subject to four subjects, in addition to sporadic subbing. Last week I taught 17 hours face to face! When I try to picture the amount of preparation that went into that... shudder. My  kaf hakelah  experience this year taught me two really important things: 1. Firstly, like the old VP at school used to say, "If you want to make sure something will happen then give the job to the busies...

My happiness bubbles Sometimes the silliest things make us happy. The school I work in takes report cards very seriously. Let me make that really clear: The school I work in takes report cards very seriously. I had never seen anything like it before, and it hit me like a ton of bricks on a clear day the first time I had to write them. When I was in school, I got an "A+" ( most of the time... ) and a little footnote "1" for "pleasure to have in class" and "23" for "too talkative". That was it. Clean and simple. Probobly took a grand total of thirty minutes for a teacher to fill in the appropriate letters and numbers. Oh yes, there was an option to add an additional comment on the back, but there was never more than a scentance or two between my 20-odd teachers. Anyways, the report cards I have to write are from a different planet entirely. Here's a sample... Yah. Intense. The part that didn't make it onto the s...

When I first started teaching, I modelled my style after a favourite High School teacher of mine. Like me, she was young, with-it and taught Jewish History. Thing is, she didn't quite have the best classroom management techniques. She prepared short lessons, designed to fill only 1/2 to 3/4 of the allotted time. Then we'd gather 'round her desk and chat. Sometimes she didn't prepare at all. None of us minded. We felt very close to Ms. Young - we were her first students ever, we celebrated her engagement, wedding and the birth of her first child throughout the four years she taught us. But I was never scared of her. Not the slightest.   My head told me that I ought to be modelling after my Math teacher instead. Mrs. Math was scary! We did our homework nightly (though it meant schlepping home a textbook and notebook), studied hard for our weekly tests and were silent as the grave in the classroom. There was a stretch when I tutored a fun-loving classmate for a few mo...

The girls simply sparkled that night! They wore white caftans speckled with a shimmery gold design that glittered and sparkled in the reflection of the disco lighting above. Though I only taught a sprinkling of them, my heart sang, dance and cheered them on. An entire grade put on the most beautiful production, with their topics of learning interwoven between sparkly scenes of drama, music and dance. Truly an event to make a teacher's heart sing with nachas. It was endearing to watch the girls as they bit their nails, threatened to throw up/faint and just plain freaked out in the wings. "I feel like we haven't rehearsed enough!" Shainy* confided as she waited for her cue. Their sweet nervousness over a short-lived performance cast my mind back to my first days of teaching. I was never prepared enough. There was always one more source to look up and one more worksheet to write. Ah, the sparkly confidence that piggie-backs on four years experience... Lessons that I ...

It could take a good two, three hours to prepare a solid 45-minute lesson. What about when you up the ante? After researching, writing the lesson, preparing worksheets and a follow up quiz, I decided that my Jewish History lesson on the life of Shlomo ibn Gabirol needed some more pizazz. It was late enough, trust me, but the perfectionist in my soul must've had a good dose of coffee because there I was, enhancing the lesson. I gave my eyes a vigorous rub, and clocked in another hour or two to create the slideshow, animation, or interactive activity that would really help my students take home the learning in a very real, long-term way. (Amen!) If you are lucky, you teach two parallel classes and can use the same lesson twice. And then it's over. All the materials get filed away neatly (I wish!) into a binder or digital folder and hibernate for another year. What's the point? I spend all this time in resource creation, and it gets used once. ...

Have a lookie over at my new page. I've posted a slideshow I made to show in the classroom tomorrow. Parsha Class.  If you'd like to use the original file shoot off a quick email. Catch you later,

"Red-rover Elana, red-rover, Dina. Batya started so Elana came. Elana started maybe." The chanting grew louder, quicker tempo. "Red-rover Elana, red-rover, Dina. ..." What were they on? I peered over the top of my scuffed list and stared at the girls in front of me. There were five of them now, enthusiastically chanting a string of nonsense. "Can't I study in here? There's a quiz in a few minutes!" "But we are studying!" they retorted and continued with the inane chanting. Or so I thought. My classmates had discovered the Magic of Mnemonics. Fast forward a few years. I am at the door of my Jewish History classroom, test piles tucked under my arm, when I hear it. Strange tunes being repeated, from one girl to the next. I listen closely - those words sound familiar. Ah, of course. They are studying for my test. A surge of pride electrifies me. I've made it! I've presented my students with a course of study serious ...

I tapped my foot impatiently. The bell had already rung, and the other class would need all the time they could get. 'Thorough Student' hurriedly scanned her last sheet, and gave me a sheepish grin as she handed in her test paper. At last! I hurried up the aisle, set to gather my materials and head into the next lesson. And stopped. Two students from the other class, Dafna* and Miriam* were reading something in the front of the classroom. I could almost feel the niggling question mark hovering in front of them. As I neared my desk, the corners of my mouth turned down into a grimace, a frown, and then a terribly astonished face. I actually felt this transformation, bit by bit. The girls sensed me approach and guiltily fled the room. What to do? What to do? I slowly piled the completed test papers and made my way into the hall. What to do? I met a teacher on the way, and whispered my dilemma. "I would fail them," she recommended, "just a full-out...

1. Why is this student different from all other students? 2. How does one tolerate her incessant queries? 3. How could I diffuse her classmates' frustration? 4. What can I, personally, gain out of this experience? [Credit to  Rochi and Rivki ] Shoshi* is in Seder-mode all year long. She doesn't miss a thing and questions every detail of my lecture until it is absolutely clear to her. Most teachers and classmates are bothered by her endless queries. Not me. She charmed me on day one with the most gorgeous smile ever, so I am completely won over. Besides, I admire her sincerity (and focus!). Pirkei Avot teaches that the shy student will not learn (לא הבישן למד). I've seen it time and again. Students are too often afraid to raise their hands. I wonder about it... Perhaps they are lacking poker chips that day and are afraid of sounding dumb. I've tried to assure students that asking is harmless, to no avail.  Teachers may be known for giving pat answers, or simp...

I walked from the main building to the school's entrance twice today. The first time as a teacher, the second time as a student. Well, to be totally accurate I was chatting with my collegue, but as I was seeking her advice it was more of a mentoring situation. This morning Vicki* brought me to the art room (located near the entrance) to show me her canvas-in-progress. Vicki is a student in my 11th grade Chumash class. This is my third year teaching her, so I already knew that she would have a hard time remaining focused. I also knew that she liked to doodle in her notebooks. Two years ago, I encouraged her to take illustrated notes during my lessons. I just wanted her to have an idea of what was going on in class, really. At the end of the year, Vicki wrote a lovely note thanking me for "encouraging [her] artistic side". When I saw Vicki's name on my class list, I knew what my action plan would be. Vicki would research the details of Noach's Taivah (Noah's...

It was two and a half hours of one family after the next. Some mothers came alone, other parents came as couples and still others brought their daughters along. It was parent-teacher evening , one of the most tiring yet most productive events in the school calendar. "Esther* has a hard time staying focused..." my voice trailed off.  I smiled a sad smile as I watched the mother's eyes wander off to the corner of the room. My audience had lost focus.  Like mother, like daughter. Does she stand a chance? Family connections are a funny thing. Students are regularly compared to their siblings (and mothers!). Younger sisters are often "figured out" before they've had a chance to prove themselves one way or another. It is almost expected that they will have similar scholastic and social abilities. The funny thing is, I don't see it. Last year I taught two sisters concurrently, but I did not uncover their familial relationship until parent-teacher ...

It was ten minutes into the lesson. The door creaked open as two girls headed apologetically towards the back of the room, "Sorry, Mrs. Shore* just dismissed us." Rochi* looked frustrated. Mrs. Shore is an opinionated teacher, always sure of herself, who excels at lecturing her students into oblivion. Rochi is a thinker. She always has her own perspectives and is not too shy to share them. They must have had another confrontation. "What's up, Rochi?" "Have you heard of this shoe thing?" "Tell me" "I mean, who cares which way I tie my shoes?!?" I allowed myself a small smile. "Interesting. The shoe-tying business reminds me of a fascinating story. There was a young boy in a Gan Yisroel camp..." I love watching how their ears perk up at the promise of a story. The actual story is irrelevant, as is the whole how-to-tie my shoe business. What really grabbed me was how the rest of the lesson panned out. I knew th...

"There are images of dragons carved into the base." "The steps are attached!" "The branches are curved." Relief on the Arch of Titus in Rome My year eight Jewish History class was examining the details on the Menorah depicted on the Arch of Titus. After listing the various descriptions on the board, we turned to a posuk describing the original Menorah. I read the source aloud, "יוצאים מצידי-ה" I read the source aloud, then paused. "Hang on, what parsha is it this week?" "Terumah!" they chorused. Wow! Talk about timing... Rambam's Sketch of the Menorah The posuk we were referencing was in this week's Parsha!!  That was just too perfect. Hence, I have a wee little Dvar Torah to post here. What was the shape of the Menorah' branches? Huge debate. Rashi described the branches as protruding from the center of the Menorah at a diagonal. In his words, "לכאן ולכאן באלכסון". Rambam concurre...

Daniel loves drawing. I am careful to compliment him on his scribbles, providing specific praise at every opportunity. It might sound funny to you  when I say "look at that line!" or "you drew 'round and 'round in circles!" but Daniel beams!  Once, I drew a car while he was hard at work with his sketches. He was impressed, and since then has insisted that I draw cars on most of his pictures.  He has grown rather fond of his name (as I would assume most people are).  I found myself labeling his drawings several times over. As I did, I was careful to say the name of each letter as I wrote it in order to increase his familiarity. Today I suggested that he give it a try. Have a look: Daniel's first "Daled" Mind you, that was his first attempt! Oh, the pride... Sure, he's seen it a number of times. Nonetheless, I am confident that the fact that daled [ד] is the letter that starts his name is what prompted him to get it right....