Push In Your Chairs, Please...

There are 25 students and two adults in Room 202.  That's a lot of people in a room for 6 hours a day.  Needless to say, there is a shortage of space.  It's hot.  It's stuffy.

On the first day of school I told the kids, as I always tell my new students, to push in their chairs when they leave their desk.  I told them this is especially true this year since we have so many people.

They listened.  Not only did they listen the first day of school, they kept pushing in their chairs day in and day out.  It may seem like a small thing, maybe even insignificant.  But it's more than a simple act of pushing in a chair...it speaks to the character of the class; and ultimately the character of the individual.

A fourth grader has many things on their mind...least of which is to push in their chair when they get up.  They have to think about their school work, their friends, their family; who they are going to sit next to at lunch and play with at recess.  They have to think about the amount of homework they are going to have and how they are going to get things done at home.  They know, in the backs of their mind, that they are growing up, becoming more responsible; more accountable.  This responsibility an accountability can sometimes be a heavy load for a 9 or 10 year-old. 

Yet...
... they push in their chairs when they leave the room. 


Mr. Casten
August 30, 2013

Copyrighted material of Michael C. Casten

Reach Into the Future


The week comes to a close today. My 13th year of teaching is underway. I am fortunate; in many ways.

Being able to work with children has afforded me the opportunity to reach into the future. The kids I taught 13 years ago are now in their early twenties. Some may be finished with college and seeking employment; some may be fully employed. Others may be furthering their educational endeavors by going for a higher degree, while still others may be seeking to start a family. As a teacher, it is strange to think of these scenarios when talking about my former students. You see, I still picture them as the nine and ten year olds that they were when they were with me. Placing them at a graduation ceremony, a job interview, or even a wedding seems to stretch my imagination. But I know they are there; living their lives probably in a manner consistent with their personalities that shone through in my classroom. In the end, I know in my heart that they are fine. And hopefully they carried a bit of something from my little corner of the world where they spent nine months of their life in the "distant past".

Being able to work with children has provided a way for me to grow professionally as well as personally. Each year I am awarded a new group of kids; a clean slate if you will. We exchange our pleasatries and then begin the tasks of learning. Each year I am reminded, by the very nature of children, of what it means to be a child. They are creative and curious. They take risks each and every day in the classroom. They are full of laughs and giggles, bright eyes and wonderment. They require boundries that allow them to safely express themselves yet in the same breath they defy those boundries to assert their independence. With all of this, and more, going on I have the perfect environment to continue improving my art and science of teaching. In many respects, incoming 4th graders are basically the same from one year to the next; therefore I can use what I've learned previously to make the classroom even better. At the same time, each class of kids, and each individual child, is vastly different. This is where the moments of realization, for me, finds itself.

I realize that the little things I do during the day make all the difference in how the day, the week, the month and the entire school year unfolds. From the greeting in the morning to the departure in the afternoon, within those times lies the makings of the future. I realize that each child comes to me with a history not known to me; a history that has shaped who stands before me. Getting to know each student, where they came from, where they are right now, and where they think they want to be fills me with a sense of purpose to be able to help, if just a little, along in their journey.

I look forward to reaching into the future of my current students. I know they too, just like my kids from my first year as a teacher, will be just fine.

Mr. Casten
Aug. 23, 2013
Copyrighted material of Michael C. Casten