In lieu of a blog post, we here at Fuzzy, Black Dogs are venturing into uncharted territory. We have created a video for a post!
Please click on the following link, which will send you to my YouTube video, simply titled, "End of the School Year Blues."
http://youtu.be/gKiSkmmd5MQ
I hope you enjoy!
fuzzy, black dogs
The original three fuzzy, black dogs -- Bob, Ace and Lilly.
Showing posts with label first graders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label first graders. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Friday, November 2, 2012
A-maze-ing Learning!
Ever tried to train a wild cat? Ever tried to train an entire pack of wild cats? Now, have you ever let an entire pack of wild cats loose on a farm and told them to behave? I have. It's called a field trip.
The pack of wild cats in question would be our first graders. We decided to set them loose on a local farm under the guise of an educational field trip.
On our way to the same field trip last year, one of our kids commented on the "giant dogs" we saw on on our way there.
"Those are actually goats," I said.
"Oh," he said and sat quietly a moment. "Mr. Haworth? What's a goat?"
My comment winner for this year goes to the student who told me in the corn maze "I'm only allergic to corn when its on the cob, Mr. Haworth."
Thank goodness there were no cobs in the corn bins full of corn he jumped and played in!
He told me a few of the other food items he's allergic to as well. Coincidentally, they were the same healthy foods I was allergic to when I was his age.
During the "school" portion of the trip, they showed us foods they grow like wheat. Wheat straw comes from wheat. So does wheat flour. What can we make with flour, she asked. One hand shot up and the girl attached yelled, "popcorn!"
I don't know that what we've taught the kids has stuck. But I do know what we SHOULD be teaching them.
The pack of wild cats in question would be our first graders. We decided to set them loose on a local farm under the guise of an educational field trip.
On our way to the same field trip last year, one of our kids commented on the "giant dogs" we saw on on our way there.
"Those are actually goats," I said.
"Oh," he said and sat quietly a moment. "Mr. Haworth? What's a goat?"
My comment winner for this year goes to the student who told me in the corn maze "I'm only allergic to corn when its on the cob, Mr. Haworth."
Thank goodness there were no cobs in the corn bins full of corn he jumped and played in!
He told me a few of the other food items he's allergic to as well. Coincidentally, they were the same healthy foods I was allergic to when I was his age.
During the "school" portion of the trip, they showed us foods they grow like wheat. Wheat straw comes from wheat. So does wheat flour. What can we make with flour, she asked. One hand shot up and the girl attached yelled, "popcorn!"
I don't know that what we've taught the kids has stuck. But I do know what we SHOULD be teaching them.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Six Year-Olds Notice Everything!
The children at the school I work at continue to amaze and surprise me, as well as make me laugh. And the best part? They're usually not afraid to ask questions that don't pertain to school work. Nor are they afraid to say what they think.
"I like you skunk, Mr. Haworth," one of my students said recently.
"What skunk," I asked him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"Your skunk," he continued, pointing above my head. "In your picture!"
Way back at the beginning of the school year, I painted a ceiling tile to go up in the hallway by the office. The new hires are encouraged to paint a ceiling tile with something personal, inspirational or both. I'm not sure which mine is, but it seems to garner some attention with the kids. It depicts several people with watering cans watering plants under the sun. In the middle is one guy laying back against a tree, daydreaming, with his watering can on the ground at his side.
"That's not a skunk," I told him, noticing the amazing resemblance to a skunk. "It's actually a watering can."
In hindsight, I wish I had just smiled and thanked him. He seemed so excited to have figured out what the ink blob in the middle of the scene was.
Later that same day, one of the girls made a startling observation about me..
"You're white, Mr. Haworth," she said. It was a statement. I heard something close to amazement in her voice as she said it.
"Well... Umm.. Yeah," I replied, at a loss for words. "I guess I am."
We've got about 30 days of school left. I was amazed that it took her so long to realize this fact and then bring it up to me.
"Why are you white, Mr. Haworth," she asked.
I looked into her eyes, hoping to detect some humor in the comment. I found none. My brain raced with numerous comments and ways to approach the question that would be tactful, caring and informative.
"Umm," I stammered. "Well... I... Umm."
"I mean, it's all over your face," she added.
"It's what," I replied.
"Right around here," she said, tracing her finger over the right side of my face.
It looks as though I'm going to have to be more careful with my spray paint as I help build props. It seems to have a way of coming back and adhering to me!
Most recently, another girl was analyzing my ID badge with my photo on it. She looked up at me and back and the picture. She spent a good 60 seconds with this little exercise before relaying her discovery.
"This my be an old picture of you, Mr. Haworth," she announced. "You look GOOD in this picture."
Perhaps I've let myself go a bit since last August, when the picture was taken. Perhaps I need to give myself more time in the morning to clean up and get ready for school. Whichever, my son said not to worry since she probably forgot her glasses that day.
"I like you skunk, Mr. Haworth," one of my students said recently.
"What skunk," I asked him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"Your skunk," he continued, pointing above my head. "In your picture!"
Way back at the beginning of the school year, I painted a ceiling tile to go up in the hallway by the office. The new hires are encouraged to paint a ceiling tile with something personal, inspirational or both. I'm not sure which mine is, but it seems to garner some attention with the kids. It depicts several people with watering cans watering plants under the sun. In the middle is one guy laying back against a tree, daydreaming, with his watering can on the ground at his side.
"That's not a skunk," I told him, noticing the amazing resemblance to a skunk. "It's actually a watering can."
In hindsight, I wish I had just smiled and thanked him. He seemed so excited to have figured out what the ink blob in the middle of the scene was.
Later that same day, one of the girls made a startling observation about me..
"You're white, Mr. Haworth," she said. It was a statement. I heard something close to amazement in her voice as she said it.
"Well... Umm.. Yeah," I replied, at a loss for words. "I guess I am."
We've got about 30 days of school left. I was amazed that it took her so long to realize this fact and then bring it up to me.
"Why are you white, Mr. Haworth," she asked.
I looked into her eyes, hoping to detect some humor in the comment. I found none. My brain raced with numerous comments and ways to approach the question that would be tactful, caring and informative.
"Umm," I stammered. "Well... I... Umm."
"I mean, it's all over your face," she added.
"It's what," I replied.
"Right around here," she said, tracing her finger over the right side of my face.
It looks as though I'm going to have to be more careful with my spray paint as I help build props. It seems to have a way of coming back and adhering to me!
Most recently, another girl was analyzing my ID badge with my photo on it. She looked up at me and back and the picture. She spent a good 60 seconds with this little exercise before relaying her discovery.
"This my be an old picture of you, Mr. Haworth," she announced. "You look GOOD in this picture."
Perhaps I've let myself go a bit since last August, when the picture was taken. Perhaps I need to give myself more time in the morning to clean up and get ready for school. Whichever, my son said not to worry since she probably forgot her glasses that day.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Reasoning with Six Year-Olds
I simply can't hold back any longer. Originally, I told my wife and friends that I would not write about work, but I just can't adhere to that promise. Since I started working as a teacher's assistant, I've heard some funny things and had funny things happen to me.
In fact, just earlier today, one of our little girls got sick on the playground. Normally when that happens, it's my job to get them to the office so someone can come and pick them up. I diligently wiped everything she touched with a disinfectant wipe. Then, we made our way to the office.
"Well," I said along the way. "It seems you may have a stomach bug."
"I don't have a bug in my stomach, Mr. Haworth," she said with wide-eyed horror. I had to explain to her what that meant and reassure her that I didn't think she had an actual bug inside her stomach.
There have been numerous kids to ask me how old I am. One of the boys, however, phrased it a little differently by asking me "Are you old, Mr. Haworth?"
"I guess so," I answered with a shrug. "I'm 43 years old."
A long, resonating, bug-eyed "whoa" was his only response. My wife, who is two years younger than I, has had her children tell her "you're older than my grandma!"
One of my favorite incidents happened two days ago with one of my students immediately following a math lesson.
"Mr. Haworth," she said with a most curious look on her face. "What is that on your finger?"
"It's a ring. It's my wedding band."
"You're married?" she responded, amazement burning bright on her face.
"Yes, I'm married."
"How old are you," she then asked.
"I'm 43. I'll be 44 in March," I said. Her jaw dropped. "I have a son who's older than you are. He's 14."
"I thought you said you were 43, Mr. Haworth... And married... He should be about nine."
I tried to explain to her that he is indeed 14, but you try reasoning with a first-grader. While I'm still trying to figure out where I went wrong with that math lesson, she's still telling her classmates that, not only am I married, but I have a nine year-old son to boot.
The funniest thing to happen occurred only about three weeks in to the new job. And a word to the wise -- watch out for the girls. Their observations and inquisitiveness will simply astound you.
"You're not fooling anybody changing your tie like that, Mr Haworth," said one of our girls. When I started the job, I wore button-downs and ties every day in hopes of making a good impression.
"We know you're wearing the same shirt over and over again," she informed me. "Changing your tie isn't fooling anyone."
I told her I wasn't wearing the same shirt. She stood there, arms folded with a look of suspicion on her face. I tried to reason with her by explaining the subtle difference between that day's shirt and the previous day's shirt. They did look similar, I'll admit. However, as I've said, there is no such thing as reasoning with a six year-old.
"Oh, Mr Haworth," she said with a look of misgiving and shaking her head. One would think I was trying to pull one over on her. "You need to ask your momma... Or your wife to buy you some new shirts."
In fact, just earlier today, one of our little girls got sick on the playground. Normally when that happens, it's my job to get them to the office so someone can come and pick them up. I diligently wiped everything she touched with a disinfectant wipe. Then, we made our way to the office.
"Well," I said along the way. "It seems you may have a stomach bug."
"I don't have a bug in my stomach, Mr. Haworth," she said with wide-eyed horror. I had to explain to her what that meant and reassure her that I didn't think she had an actual bug inside her stomach.
There have been numerous kids to ask me how old I am. One of the boys, however, phrased it a little differently by asking me "Are you old, Mr. Haworth?"
"I guess so," I answered with a shrug. "I'm 43 years old."
A long, resonating, bug-eyed "whoa" was his only response. My wife, who is two years younger than I, has had her children tell her "you're older than my grandma!"
One of my favorite incidents happened two days ago with one of my students immediately following a math lesson.
"Mr. Haworth," she said with a most curious look on her face. "What is that on your finger?"
"It's a ring. It's my wedding band."
"You're married?" she responded, amazement burning bright on her face.
"Yes, I'm married."
"How old are you," she then asked.
"I'm 43. I'll be 44 in March," I said. Her jaw dropped. "I have a son who's older than you are. He's 14."
"I thought you said you were 43, Mr. Haworth... And married... He should be about nine."
I tried to explain to her that he is indeed 14, but you try reasoning with a first-grader. While I'm still trying to figure out where I went wrong with that math lesson, she's still telling her classmates that, not only am I married, but I have a nine year-old son to boot.
The funniest thing to happen occurred only about three weeks in to the new job. And a word to the wise -- watch out for the girls. Their observations and inquisitiveness will simply astound you.
"You're not fooling anybody changing your tie like that, Mr Haworth," said one of our girls. When I started the job, I wore button-downs and ties every day in hopes of making a good impression.
"We know you're wearing the same shirt over and over again," she informed me. "Changing your tie isn't fooling anyone."
I told her I wasn't wearing the same shirt. She stood there, arms folded with a look of suspicion on her face. I tried to reason with her by explaining the subtle difference between that day's shirt and the previous day's shirt. They did look similar, I'll admit. However, as I've said, there is no such thing as reasoning with a six year-old.
"Oh, Mr Haworth," she said with a look of misgiving and shaking her head. One would think I was trying to pull one over on her. "You need to ask your momma... Or your wife to buy you some new shirts."
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