Smiles are hard to come by

Honestly, today was not the best end to my week. What’s funny is that I had been feeling so high from my progress as of yesterday. Yes, I hadn’t had perfect classes, but I had found myself following a stride that I felt was promising. I mean I was able to handle comforting a crying 4-year-old who was scared and missing her mother while simultaneously barking orders to out-of-control students and handing out referrals without even breaking a sweat. I even made my first parent phone calls (though I couldn’t get ahold of them). When I had left yesterday, I was pleased to be finishing Week Two on the up side of things.

Unfortunately, my last day of the week did not go as smoothly as I had hoped. Instead of singing, playing games, and having fun before the weekend, I was signing folders, giving lunch detentions, yelling at the top of my lungs, and sending people to the nurse because they couldn’t play games without hitting each other. I mean really, who has ever heard of someone getting sent to the nurse because they got hurt in music class?

By the end of the day, I was immensely frustrated that all I did was discipline. Even giving out my first “Rock Star” Award was a bust because the girl was absent, which simply meant that everyone else in the class whined because they wanted the award instead. I know it’s only my second week and I can’t have all the answers on classroom management, but a large part of me greatly wishes that I had enough skill to finally get past this chaos and teach. I feel like I have failed my kids because I can’t get their attention long enough to teach them music – I want this to be the class where they can have fun, learn something new, and feel a unique sense of accomplishment, and I still don’t know how to give that to them. And it makes me sick to think about the first time my principal comes in to observe me. Here she is excited to see singing and instrument playing, and all she’ll be getting is mushy minds and frustrated kids.

Although it means giving up my only break during the day, I must visit my art teacher next week to see how he works. He is supposedly the king of classroom management at our school, and since I feel myself growing into a dunce I could greatly benefit from his knowledge. I can only hope that it’s not already too late to start rebuilding the bridges I have started to burn with some of my classes.