‘It isn’t the size of the gift that matters, but the size of the heart that gives it’.

~ Quoted in The Angels’ Little Instruction Book by Eileen Elias Freeman, 1994.

Lunchtime had just finished today and we’d started our afternoon session. I’d sorted my kids out, packed them up and sent them on their way to Rotations. They’d visit two other rooms this afternoon for two different activities, and in return I’d have two different grades for music. We chanted rhythms and sang a few songs about Dads because it’s Father’s Day soon.

In rocks the kid I watch (and occasionally drive to and fro) at basketball with a plastic bag from the shop.

‘Okay, I’ll bite. What have you got there?’

‘This is for you, Mr V. Happy birthday!’

‘Um, mate… my birthday was a month ago now…’

‘Yeah, but I didn’t get a chance to get you something. So here it is.’

So in front of someone else’s grade I opened my belated birthday present (or, more accurately, pulled them out of the plastic bag. An Essendon Football Club key ring and an Essendon Football Club number plate surround for my car. He scampered back off to his own class again shortly afterwards.

It’s been two years since I taught him in grade four. It’s going to be bittersweet to see him graduate at the end of the year. With a bit of luck though he’ll still get me a basketball timetable for next year.

But first, I’ll have to watch his next game tomorrow night, eh?

‘You don’t have to brush your teeth - just the ones you want to keep.’ - Author Unknown

‘A good friend is cheaper than therapy.’ - Author Unknown

Had my first tooth pulled today.

Now, I haven’t been to the dentist in about sixteen years. Never a filling, never a toothache. Once I had the braces removed I pretty much abandoned all interest in ever setting foot into another dental clinic of any sort again. And until February, I didn’t.

Now, sixteen years is not bad, I reckon, for looking after your teeth on your own. Not bad at all. At least, until a few of them started to fall apart on my while I was eating about a year or so back. I pondered the problem for a few weeks as I continued to find little bits of enamel in my dinner, but before too long they seemed to stop disintegrating, and even better, they didn’t ache or hurt. So I ignored them.

Then I noticed another threatening to do the same. So I bit the bullet (pardon the pun), and wandered into the local dentist clinic I hadn’t set foot in for the better part of sixteen years. I wasn’t even on their records any more!

They couldn’t fit me in for about six months, so I wandered down the street to the next clinic and asked about a check up.

‘When was your last one?’ they asked.

‘Aw, really early nineties?’ I answered.

‘And you still have your teeth?’

They fit me in and I had a check up. Short story was, two had to be pulled, and three had to be filled. I thought that was a pretty good score considering the time between visits and my irregular brushing. So I made the appointments and finally had the first last week to put three fillings in. Unfortunately, then they noticed there were two more fillings to be done and a third tooth to be pulled. Bugger.

So I wandered in this afternoon to have the next appointment. Fill another tooth, and pull the first one out. I wasn’t too concerned now about the filling and the needles - they’ve improved since the last time I had one in my mouth, but the extraction was concerning me if I’m honest. I asked him to talk me through it, but I figured I’d only feel uncomfortable and hear the odd crack and splintering sound. Any aches would come after the happy juice had worn off.

Short story again, it came out before I realised it as I didn’t actually feel it come loose. Yes, I felt the wriggling and levering and rocking stuff as my head rolled from side to side, and at one point I was concerned he would stretch the corner of my mouth too far and it would get the dental equivalent of a hamstring tear, but it was quite a simple procedure.

I wandered out able to talk with no pain and only half a box of tissues jammed in the hole in the back of my mouth.

So I wandered into the shopping centre for a quick browse because you don’t drive into town with petrol the way it is without making at least some effort to make it worth your while, eh?

Which is when I ran into one of the kids. Not just any kid from school, the little feller from the basketball team. By the way, they lost the grand final the other week. It’s a shame, but you don’t win them all. If you did, you’d have no reason to play, eh?

Now, most kids when they see a teacher will do one of two things. Wave with a slightly awkward, nervous smile, sometimes with a slight hint of guilt, or look the other way and hope to hell you haven’t seen them. Well, this kid’s different, at least when it comes to me, I suppose.

He ran half way around the plaza to catch me, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, to rabbit on about the things he’d just bought with his family and we wandered back to the checkout. After all, we hadn’t caught up with each other for, aw, twelve whole days. Twelve days is almost forever when you’re twelve, eh?

‘What are you doin’ here, Mr V? Shopping or something?’ Note the hint of boredom in the word ’shopping’, clearly something he thought wasn’t high on the list of ‘cool reasons to walk around the plaza’.

‘Actually, champ, I just had a tooth pulled…’

The sudden look of caring concern and the subdued voice asking ‘did it hurt?’ just made my day.

Better than a panadol, that was.

It may be halfway through the year already, but tonight we held our first official Instrumental Music Program Concert. The School Band has played at a few school functions and assemblies throughout the year already, but this was the first time all of the kids involved in the instrumental music program had the chance to perform as one group in one place. Ten of the seventeen kids involved had never played in front of an audience before.

The short story -  it was fantastic. Fifteen families were involved but we still managed to pull a crowd of nearly sixty people, and raised $67 in gold coin donations at the door as well. That’ll go nicely towards maybe some new music for the beginners, or towards servicing some of the instruments.

While it only lasted just over an hour, the hype and excitement on the kids’ faces was great, particularly the beginners. The band kids are just about all old hands at this and took it all in their stride, but it appears the program is in good shape for what was supposed to be a rebuilding year. The immediate future looks particularly bright.

Highlight of the night? The band was playing to close the show at the very end and performed their two pieces well, but to cap it all off, we brought all of the kids together to play a finale blues piece, without music, that the beginners had only learnt with one practice this afternoon. Add some adlib solos from three of the band kids in the middle and we had a strong, loud, brash and bold seventeen piece band blasting away, two thirds of them having only picked up their instruments three months ago.

Yeah, I’m just a little stoked at the moment!

This afternoon we handed out the half year reports to the kids. I only actually received my proof-read, printed and ready for shipping reports at the start of lunchtime. Fortunately though I’d already been informed that there were no corrections or alterations that needed to be made to them, so I wasn’t in as much of a mad rush as you may at first have thought. I would have been surprised if there were lots of corrections or alterations to be made, as due to using the same comment database for the past three years now, I would have thought that I’d have filtered out all the little errors by now. Seems that’s the case.

Still… I had to juggle instrumental music lessons and photocopying these reports for filing in the kids’ records over lunchtime, but I managed to get back to the classroom door with a few minutes to spare. I was learning against one of the rails when the first kids started strolling up and one of them asked me if I was sick, the caring little kid. I just said ‘nah, but I reckon I’m due a holiday’.

They agreed and asked if we could start tomorrow.

I was tempted.

So all that was left was to sign them all, date them all, and put them into their report covers (which only arrived from the printers this afternoon too, but I was pretty confident they’d be there on time). Meanwhile… what was I to do with the kids for most of the afternoon while I was putting the finishing touches on these reports?

In a time of minor crisis such as this, you can never turn your back on a Muppet movie!

Kept them entertained all afternoon!

We’ve nearly reached the halfway mark of the year. By next Friday, we’ll have kicked the kids out for their holidays an hour early (granted permission from School Council to do so on the last day!), and will have started our mid year holidays. And probably not a moment too soon as this term has been a monster twelve week effort. Usually a school term lasts ten weeks. At least they do down here in one of the states with four terms each year. I think only Tasmania still works with a three term model, but I could be wrong. Each of the other states generally has their holidays on different weeks anyway so it’s never uniform across the country at the best of times.

But by next Friday we’ll have reached the end of this mammoth term. Usually you know it’s week ten and you just have to get the kids through those last few days when they’ve really just had enough of each other. This time though… there was still two more weeks to go.

My lot though haven’t done too bad a job of putting up with each other in the lead up to the end of term. Sure, they’re occasionally getting narky with each other (that’s an educational term) and are starting to get on each other’s goat, but generally they’re trying to to completely wind each other up. This means I tend to leave work each night with all my hair and my sanity a little further away from the edge than could otherwise be the case. But… I’ve worked out how to best manage them and we’re running along quite smoothly.

Loudly, but smoothly!

But then there was this afternoon…

Rotations. I’m running the music rotation for our five grades. Two each week, and my own grade once a fortnight. Today… today I had two other grades for the final time this term. And they were both absolutely mad…

Now, my own kids are by no means perfect. They’re quite probably the noisiest, rowdiest and more talkative bunch of kids in the entire school. But at least they generally work as well as they can and genuinely like or at least openly tolerate each other. Also, there’s not a single behaviour problem amongst them. They could just talk underwater with a mouthful of marbles. In fact, one of the other teachers today after having them for Rotations herself asked me whether I was going to go deaf by the end of the year. Yes. They’re a talkative bunch.

But… after half a year, I’ve learned to appreciate all their little positive sides and little antics. And to be honest, they more than balance out the rowdy, talkative bits that make sitting a test a fair old challenge for me when trying to get them to sit still, shut up, and not try to help each other out. Yes, they’re that helpful for each other that they’d even help each other out in all innocence through a test!

Meanwhile though… I’ve just sat through two sessions after lunch with two grades that didn’t want to listen, couldn’t keep their mouths shut, and generally just weren’t in the right frame of mind to do anything.

Yes… quite a lot like my lot, eh?

But… I’ve grown used to my lot…

I guess it’s like they all say… you can’t smell your own, eh?

‘We worry what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today.’ - Stacia Tauscher

It’s the Monday of the Queen’s Birthday long weekend and I’ve just drawn the curtain on my reports for the kids for this first half of the year. Okay, later on this afternoon I’ll pull the curtain back just a little and give them a once over look to check for errors and things - a second read through should be mandatory for any sort of report - but I think I can safely put them aside for most of the afternoon and enjoy what’s left of the public holiday.

The reports won’t be handed out to the kids for another fortnight, but they’re still to be proof-read then handed back for minor tweaks and corrections after the cross-examination. There’s usually at least one sentence you’ve snuck in that someone from higher up requests be, at best altered or at worst removed completely. You have to be honest and truthful when reporting to parents about their abilities and where they are, but only for a given value of ‘truth’. Sentences like ‘your son is in the half of the grade that makes the top half possible‘ and ‘somewhere your son is depriving a village of its idiot‘ tend to be frowned upon.

Which is a little bit of a shame, because I’m sure it would make both the writing and the reading of these reports much more entertaining. Mind you… there’d probably only be a select calibre of parents who’d appreciate the humour, eh?

I think I’m fairly happy with what I’ve served up though, although I’ll probably spend a bit of time tonight running through the ’scores’ I’ve given the kids for ‘effort’ and ‘behaviour’. Have another think about them and decide on whether they’ve been very good or acceptable in those cases. Have they worked as well as they can, or could they do with a rocket placed under them to get them moving a little more in the second half of the year? That’ll be the final thing I re-read before uploading them to the server tomorrow morning, along with perhaps a final sentence addressed to each kid at the end.

They’re funny things, these reports. Easy enough to write when you know the kid, and after five months you generally know the kid. The strange part is you’re often reporting on them with an eye on the rest of the year, or where they’re going to be in the future. There only seem to be a few parents who come in to talk about their kid in the mid year interviews who have read the reports with their eyes on where the kid is now. Most of the time you’re talking about where they’re going but, honestly, I think the best part of a kid is seeing where the little tacker is right now.

I guess that’s one of the best things I like about this job. I may not get to see who they are in the future, but every day I get to see who they are now.

Alongside your usual suspects of Reading and Writing in the English curriculum, there’s a third partner in crime. Actually, call them partners. There’s two of them. Speaking and Listening. They’re grouped together as one third of the English curriculum we have to report on to the parents in our twice yearly reports. Can your kid talk and can your kid listen.

Usually I’m tempted to respond to this one with one sentence.

‘Yes, he can talk. No, he won’t listen.‘

But I’d probably get in trouble for that, eh?

Anyway, as we’re writing the kids’ mid year reports at the moment, our 3/4 Unit set all our kids a homework task this week. A one minute prepared talk on their favourite place. This may prove a useful post for anyone searching on ideas for assessment tasks for Speaking and Listening at any stage. The topic of course could be altered to fit the required topics, but the way we structured the assessment may be of interest all the same.

In our grade we held them each afternoon as the kids brought them in. On Friday we did everyone who was left, and if they hadn’t prepared anything they sat up the front and rabbitted on about whatever came into their head.

Kids can be really good at that, eh?

I should really give credit where it’s due though. Just about all of them did a top little job of their talks. Only about a fifth of them read from notes, and one or two of those only used them as cues. The rest rattled it all off from within their heads and generally gave a good account of themselves. The shyest kid in the grade actually got up to do his first.

He didn’t really want to, but he was the only kid on Tuesday who was ready. He then spent the rest of the week kicking back knowing he didn’t have to do it again!

Here’s how we ran these Speaking and Listening assessment pieces. The kids would be ranked either ‘Just Satisfactory‘, ‘Good‘ or ‘Excellent‘ on three categories, depending on what particular traits they showed in their speech. The three categories were ‘Presentation‘, ‘Content‘ and ‘Audience‘.

Presentation and Content were pretty straight forward. If they read straight off their notes, they were just satisfactory - if they did it all from memory then they landed in Excellent. If their voice was quiet and mumbled, not so good, if they could go toe to toe in a conversation with the Queen, excellent. If their information was short, quick and pointless, duds - if it was entertaining and detailed, great job. And so on.

Audience was a little tricker. That came to answering questions from the grade as well as how attentive they were. If you were early in the list to present on an afternoon, the audience was better behaved. If you were the eighth person, the audience was getting ratty. I had to go easier on the later kids, eh?

Overall though it was a great success. I’ve told the kids plenty of times that the only thing holding us right back is the fact that they all love to talk, even and especially when they’re really not supposed to. That in mind though, it’s no real surprise at all that they generally all did really well with an assessment piece that was, essentially, talking.

It was quite amusing listening, too. We heard about your usual suspects for favourite places such as Lakes Entrance, Queensland, Merimbula and various holiday places. But we also heard about such more private and intimate places like ‘My Bedroom’, ‘Nan’s Kitchen’ and ‘My mate’s house ‘cos it’s got this wicked as dirt pile bike jump in the front yard! WICKED SICK, EH?’

Honestly, they’re a bunch of little showmen, the whole lot of them!

A few Grade Five kids caught up with me in the school yard while I was on yard duty today.

Well, that’s probably not quite true. They were standing in a long row across the netball court playing ‘Elimination’ together. You know the game - the first person has a shot at goal (on a basketball backboard), and if they get the goal, they go to the end of the line and are still in. If they miss, the next player has their turn and if they get it in, the first person is out. Play continues until one person is left. Well, they were playing that, and half of them were from my grade last year. I wandered across mainly because I noticed the kid who was out lying down on the asphalt so I had to go across and ask if he was out.

‘Yep! HE got me out!!’ while pointing with a friendly accusing finger to one of the other boys.

‘HE got you out? Gee, you must really suck!‘

‘Yep!’

Anyway, this lead to half of them crowding around asking that great question the kids from your previous year always end up asking you…

‘We were your best grade, weren’t we, Mr V?’

How do you answer that?

There are probably new teachers out there right now wondering how you mould the kids into a perfect grade. How you change the behaviour of the whole group to fit that perfect mould. Where they listen intently, work hard, produce great work that all comes out great, don’t talk out of line and behave impeccably all day. Well, to those people, I say ‘don’t fix what ain’t broke‘!

Bad behaviour, yeah, for sure, work on changing that… but who really wants a perfect grade? A perfect grade is what you make of it. Let’s take that question from above again.

‘We were the best grade, weren’t we, Mr V?’

How do you answer that?

It’s true, last year’s group were fantastic. And they quite possibly pipped the grade before that as the best I’ve had, although there are kids in each grade I’ve really enjoyed. Okay, there have been a few grades that have given me merry hell all year, but I take the approach that if you can find one of two kids in each grade that make it absolutely worth your while to come to work every day, then no matter what the rest of the grade’s like, you can still enjoy your job.

Fortunately, the last few years have been very good. It’s been a while since I’ve had what I’d consider a ‘hard’ grade. And boy, was that particular one a doozy! On the plus side though, I still get along really well with one of the kids and keep in touch fairly regularly, so I also see that year as one I wouldn’t have swapped.

But how do you answer the kids when they ask you that? Because you know it’s going to filter back to the kids you’re teaching right now, and probably to the kids you taught the year before, who asked you last year if they were the best. And so on and so on.

I’ve got a really interesting mob this year too. Not a single behaviour problem amongst the whole lot of them. Not a single kid on medication or tablets. And often not a single kid who would rather sit still and listen than have a good old chat with whoever may currently be sitting next to them.

Yep. They’re a great, big, dirty mob of chin-waggers. And it’s taken me until nearly the end of May to regularly get them sitting relatively quietly on the floor to listen to me. It’s only these last few weeks where they’ve cottoned on to the fact that, hey, guess what, I’M the bloke you’re supposed to be listening to, not Noddy sitting next to you!

So yes, each day I’ll work to keep them listening and not carrying on their own conversations or piping up with their own contributions to the discussion without bothering with the process of putting their hand up first and waiting their turn. I mean… that just takes too long, eh? By the time Mr V gets ’round to me it’ll be too late, and besides… what I have to say is so funny it’ll make you all wet yourselves!!

Yep. It’s one of those groups of kids.

But… really… do I need to clamp down on them and turn them into a bunch of quiet, attentive little gnomes sitting serenely before me? They generally work hard, they get along with each other, and they look out for each other. Okay, I had to have a stern little chat with one feller who gave one across the face to one of the girls during lunchtime, but he stood in front of everyone afterwards and told them why our grade wouldn’t get a Yard Behaviour award this week. A one off blue like that doesn’t tarnish the kid for the whole year.

I honestly couldn’t see this group of kids working as well if they sat quietly all day and barely said ‘boo’. It just wouldn’t be right. Actually, it’d be downright spooky!

So no… while they’ll talk the handle off a door while underwater with a mouthful of marbles, I think I’ll put up with that side of them in return for a group that enjoy coming each day, enjoy each other’s company, and make me laugh.

Who wants a perfect grade? I reckon I’ve got one pretty close as it is.

‘Ouch,’ said Limpy. ‘Why’s my back hurting?’

A horrible thought hit him. Perhaps it was a fork wound. Perhaps while he was unconscious the human had tried to eat him. He looked around.

‘Stack me,’ said Limpy.

All he could see was blue plastic.

Limpy’s on a quest to find toad heaven. A place where cane toads won’t be blown up with bike pumps or bashed over the head with folding chairs. Limpy’s determined to find this place if it takes the rest of his life.

But first he has to get out of the bucket.

The first sequel to Morris Gleitzman’s original Toad book, Toad Rage, Toad Heaven continues the adventures of Limpy the cane toad and his goal of finding a way to keep the rest of his cane toad relatives safe from being run over on the highway by humans in their cars. Whereas the first children’s novel focused on Limpy trying to make humans treat cane toads with respect, Toad Heaven sees Limpy trying to find a fabled ‘national park’ where all living things are protected from harm. Joining him on his adventures once more are his younger sister Charm and his bigger, stronger, more handsome, somewhat stupider cousin Goliath.

Once more, Goliath intends to bash up any human he can find along the way, and eats pretty much anything he can get his tongue around, including a few creatures he probably really shouldn’t. Along the way the cane toads must face a flock of sheep, a scientist intent on killing them all with virus germs, a swarm of fire ants, a flooded national park and the cunning plans of Malcolm, who intends to sell the other cane toads prime real estate at very reasonable rental prices.

Published at the end of 2001 in Australia, it races along again through 30 short, sharp chapters that generally keep the kids laughing along and wondering what mess the cane toads will get themselves into next time. It can also introduce them to various national parks and places in northern Australia, and fits in nicely with a theme on rainforets, which is nice as that’s the theme we were working on at the time.

Like Toad Rage, and the third book in the series, Toad Away, Toad Heaven is another book I read religiously each year with whatever grade I teach. In every case, once Toad Rage is complete, the kids wait impatiently for the following term so this second book can be read. They’ll wait eagerly for third term again for the final book in the series.

It’s a great, quick read, full of fun characters and exciting, humourous adventures but with a heart of gold and a few morals the kids can soak in as well. If you’re interested, you can read the entire first chapter of Toad Heaven here at the Morris Gleitzman Collection.

Related Posts: Review - Toad Rage

This week, May 18th to 24th, is Education Week in Victoria. It’s an annual initiative of the Department of Education and Early Childhood Development (another name change!), and the official site is here. If, like me, you really don’t care too much for what’s on official education websites and things, then here’s a cut and paste job from their front page.

‘Education Week will be celebrated by Victorian government schools and kindergartens from 18-24 May 2008.

During the week, schools and kindergartens are encouraged to hold activities that engage parent and community networks while profiling their learning opportunities and achievements.

Open days, art shows, musical performances and other special events are among the many activities that give an insight into the vibrant education settings in which young Victorians learn, thrive and grow.‘

Learn, thrive and grow seems to be the current hype phrase this year.

Anyway, that explains why the Band played at the assembly, and why today the 3/4 Unit opened their doors to parents, grandparents and any friends of the kids who wanted to rock up to come in and spend part of the morning with us to see what goes on in these classrooms. It was quite a good turn out in regards to the number of parents and families we had drifting through during the day. Also gives us a chance to sometimes meet parents for the first time, which can make the parent teacher interviews in the next few weeks a bit more relaxed. We have five grades in the unit, which causes a few timetabling problems. In this case, a half hour rotation activity for each grade doesn’t fit nicely into two hours, so we had to carry it over after recess. That’s fine, but by the time the kids finally got back to our own grade (with a few parents in tow), they’d just about reached the end of their tethers and were quite unready to settle back down again.

Had to give them a quick growl and remind them that we had an audience today and they were embarrassing themselves. Didn’t seem to make much difference. Sending them around the oval for a run seemed to work though. At least, it gave the parents a good excuse to skedaddle out of there!

To be fair though, the morning rotation activities (language and maths games spread around the five grades) worked well. The first two hours have never passed so quickly, but at the same time, you definitely knew you’d earned your pay at the end of it. I spent the morning playing dice maths games with the 120 odd kids that passed through the room. It was a fairly easy activity that all but ran itself, but I still felt like I’d done nine rounds with a big red roo at the end of it.

Ah, Education Week. Fantastic idea, well worth the effort, looking forward to it again next year.

Just glad it’s only the once!