Just so you know teaching isn't ALL bad!

Surviving Third Grade
Lori Mitchell

Oh my God!
I was so scared and yet so excited. What on earth was I doing? I wasn’t prepared. Suddenly there were 19 eight year olds in their pretty new clothes and shiny new shoes all looking at me expectantly, like I’m supposed to know what to do. I keep repeating those words of wisdom from my mentor and friend “They will learn in spite of you” Those sweet little faces just kept looking at me. How can 8 year olds hold a stare for that long? Didn’t they ever blink? Do they know I’m a fraud? I’m not really a teacher. This is my first day. I thought I was so prepared. What happened to all of my bravado from the previous week as I was setting up my classroom and getting my plans together? What was I thinking?
Can I really make a difference in the lives of these kids? My reasons for going into teaching escape me for a moment and then I remember. I want to make a difference. I want to be a positive influence. I want the kids to learn to love learning. I want to make a lot of money and have summers off…. ok I’m kidding about that last part! I remember what I was thinking. I remember why I’m there. I’m still terrified!
I was shaking with fright, and yet they still didn’t blink. Why don’t third graders blink? Suddenly Lupita broke the ice by offering me a couple of roses that she had picked out of her garden that very morning. Such a sweet little girl. I will be eternally grateful to her.
Cindy decided to raise her hand and inform the class that I’m the prettiest teacher she ever had. Who taught that child the art of kissing up? Then Alberto starts making farting noises and the entire class erupts into laughter.
I took my Ed classes so seriously. I never missed a class, but somehow I must have missed the day where they taught about fart noises. Surely, there is a proper way to handle this. Why can’t I remember the lecture on how to handle fart noises? As soon as I get home tonight I’m going to pour through my Ed books. I NEED to find the chapter on fart noises!
OK, these are just normal kids. I can do this. They don’t have to know that I have no idea what I’m doing. I breathe deeply, in and out a couple of times to slow my racing heartbeat. I am not going to hyperventilate right here and right now.
Suddenly, Jodi gets up and walks across the room to have a conversation with her friend. “Jodi, please return to your seat. Allison is trying to listen.” We start an introduction activity when I hear a thump and the kids erupt into laughter. I turn to see what has caught their attention and see Alberto lying on the floor and his chair tipped over. I can see that I will not be able to turn my back on this one. He’s going to be a handful. Jodi gets up once again and wanders around the classroom.
It’s time to pass out papers for the kids to work on an activity to introduce themselves. I have the bright idea to have Jodi pass out the papers since she seems to have a need to be in motion. Jodi manages to kick one boy, poke another and pull one girl’s hair. Note to self…..choosing Jodi is not a wise decision. Jodi manages to get the rest of the papers passed out with no further incidents.
The kids are working nicely, and I’m patting myself on the back for getting through the first 27 of minutes of the day relatively unscathed, when suddenly Jodi decides to throw a crayon across the room.
Though I can’t remember my exact words, I’m pretty sure they weren’t the words that were running through my mind “Knock it off you demon child before I make you regret ruining my first day!” Whatever the words I did manage to choose must have sounded very similar to the ones running through my head because in the next second Jodi was lying on the floor kicking and screaming. She was sobbing hysterically…….what do I do now? My first day of school and I’ve harmed a child for life. She will hate school forever and drop out at 14 and live on the streets and take drugs all because I failed to communicate with her in a productive manner on her first day of third grade. I’m a failure!!! I’m not meant to teach. What was I thinking? Am I stuck in this contract for an entire year? Is Jodi’s mom going to come beat me up? Suddenly, just as quickly as it started it stopped. Jodi picked herself up and sat back down.
Now it’s time for my first “real teaching” lesson. The class gets out their books, and I get out the teacher manual. This is so easy. In the little margins it tells me what to say and tells me what the kids will respond. How easy can teaching be? Why would anybody think this is difficult? I fake calmness I don’t feel and proudly and professionally read the “SAY” part in the teacher’s manual, and the kids just stare. Perhaps they didn’t hear me. I clear my throat and once again I read the “What is the name of the person who writes the story called?”. The kids mumble responses but they aren’t the responses in the teacher’s Bible. How can this be? How can they not give the response they are supposed to give? This just won’t work!!! If they don’t give the proper “RESPONSE” then the next “SAY” won’t make any sense. The teacher’s book is wrong. It isn’t working. What am I going to do? Suddenly, I get the bright idea to talk to them like I talk to my daughter. I can just explain things to them in simple words. Yeah, this will work. So I start talking and the kids start responding. Amazingly, they even respond with the “RESPONSE” part when I’m not even doing the “SAY” part. Wow, I can do this. Those words of wisdom spoken by my mentor many months ago suddenly make sense. When she first uttered those words, “They will learn in spite of you!” I really had no idea what she was trying to tell me. Now I get it. They are learning. I have no idea how to teach them, but they are learning and it’s only an hour into my first day. I just may be able to do this after all!
The rest of the morning passed in a flurry of activity. Finally, I get to walk my kids to cafeteria. They are in third grade. They know how to walk in a straight line don’t they?
Apparently not. I’m sure a couple of them disappeared somewhere between the classroom and the cafeteria, while the others are pushing, shoving, shouting, poking each other, and just basically all over the campus. Note to self, if you want them to do something right you have to teach them how to do it.
Finally, the kids are eating lunch and I get to go back and hide out in my room. My tummy is too nervous to eat so I skip lunch (just a small unimportant detail)
After lunch the kids come back in and we go for a tour around the school and the rest of the day passes with only a few minor disruptions from Alberto’s constant need to be a comedian.
Finally the day is over, the kids are on the bus and I can go home, but first I must return to my room and figure out how to keep Jodi from throwing tantrums, Alberto from “entertaining” the class, and most importantly, what to do about fart noises.
On my way home I stop by the store and pick up Haagen-Daz

This should tell you what mood I'm in tonight.

No Teacher Left Behind
(A Modest Proposal
Apologies to Jonathan Swift)


It is a melancholy object to those who walk through the great schools in our country to see those in the abject profession known as teaching inhabiting classrooms.
These teachers, instead of being able to work for their honest livelihood, are forced to employ all their time juggling back and forth wasting their time herding disruptive students, fending off pushy know-it-all parents (or attempting to plead with others who seemingly could care less), and praying to Almighty God someone from administration doesn’t catch them veering away from the pacing calendar.
I think it is agreed by all that there should be better ways of utilizing years of knowledge and expertise other than babysitting, police action, avoidance of conflict and seamy politics. It is my humble intention to propose a groundbreaking piece of legislation entitled “No Teacher Left Behind.” Imagine it, if you can. Teachers freed from the tyranny of superfluous distractions. I would think a grateful nation would erect a statue to the preserver of our educational system!
But my intentions is very far from being confined to provide only for the children of the public school system; it is of much greater extent, and shall take in the whole number of school aged children.
As to my own part, having turned my thoughts for many years upon this important subject, and maturely weighed the several schemes of other projectors ala No Child Left Behind, I have always found them grossly mistaken in their optimism.
As with any other massive societal shift, to enact such a legislative tour de force will require a number of pieces to fall into place.
First, the ruling State Department of Education must be swept away in a coup to make way for a benevolent dictatorship headed by an Education Czar. Imagine the blessing of a political system without the distraction of opposing parties. Trains will run on time! Modern autobahns will be constructed! And think about the added living space….but I get ahead of myself.
The cost of such legislation will be mighty but this nation has endured financial and economic hardship in the past and shall again for the greater good of the State. Indeed, this legislation includes the right to fire up the Mint’s printing presses if necessary to pay whatever it takes to make this happen.
With no inflation of course.
School boards and administrators? Done away with. Imagine no political bickering about things like budgets, salary negotiations and site councils! No department meetings, no grade level meetings, no curriculum meetings, no staff meetings of any kind! Imagine there’s no heaven. It’s easy if you try.
Secondly, parents must be controlled. In no way should any parent be allowed to criticize the decisions of the great and powerful Czar. Certainly, education is too important to be left in the hands of the great unwashed. Such legislation will include license-to-breed documentation and, for those who refuse to obey, On Campus Suspension. I have a dream for the unrepentant parents, that Time Out Camps will be established on the salt-flats of the West Side where work shall make them free.
With political and parental distraction eradicated, I shall now therefore humbly propose my own thoughts, which I hope will not be liable to the least objection.
Though it is generally agreed education would run much smoother without the burden of actually having children in the classroom, for the moment, it is a burden which must be borne. In an alternate universe, perhaps, no child would be left behind. But in this reality, you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs.
Intelligence, will and drive will no longer be regarded as positive influences but rather subservience and the ability to follow simple commands will determine the future minds of the State. The all-knowing, all-powerful Education Czar will, in his infinite wisdom, be able to determine who can rise up the ranks of society to become future leaders.
State Tests are still needed to determine a child’s future. If the child is able to read the test and mark the correct answer, that child is expelled to provide much needed labor in our burgeoning factories and collective farms.
College? A waste of money when most of the population will be needed for glorious agrarian work assignments. Title IX? Abolished. Who needs such a rule when women are needed to give birth, cook and clean for future generations of loyal followers?
You dissent? After all, I am not so violently bent up on my own opinion as to reject any other offer, which will be as effective.
But before something of that kind shall be advanced in contradictions to my scheme, I desire the author or authors consider these two points:
Firstly, has the current educational system produced such a brave new world where all humanity marches in unison to a single drummer? Surely there is a desire for such an educational Pax Americana isn’t there?
Secondly, such an educational program will certainly endure for at least a thousand years with its universal cooperation, wise ruling and swift justice.
I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I don’t have the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the public good of the educational community.
And my daughter is no longer in the public school system.

So today I decided I couldn't teach anymore

I have decided that I really can't stand the thought of going back to teaching, so I'm looking for work. So if anybody knows of a job of any kind whatsoever, please let me know. I know I wasn't going to use this blog to beg for a job, but hey....since I have a captive audience, I figured what the hey, I'd ask for a job.

Also, if you are looking at this blog please comment on my writing unless you have a job offer or lead for me then please email me at writingbylori@gmail.com I plan to post more writing in a little while. You will always be able to tell my mood by which piece of writing I've chosen to post. For those who have commented, thank you. For my friends who have come here to support me and leave a comment, thank you because you are the reason I have the courage to do this.

Oh and Crystal, mommy loves you!

Girls With Guns

“Girls With Guns”
Lori Mitchell


The squad is on the line ready to start its round.
On post four, the shooter goes over a subconscious checklist: Hull bag on hip, shell box holder on waist, shell box open and ready, toe pad on shoe, ear plugs in ears, shooting glasses just the right tint for the light conditions and gun at the ready. And her hair is out of her eyes thanks to the ponytail poking out from under her cap.
Girls and guns. When most people think of those two words together they think cheap porn, Quinton Taratino’s B-grade blood-fest “Grindhouse” or Annie Oakley, the woman trick shooter in Buffalo Bill’s traveling show in the 19th century.
On this 35th anniversary of Title IX, the law giving college women’s sports increased credibility, there is a small invasion going on. Women are starting to flock to the male dominated shotgun sports of trap, skeet and sporting clays.
Shotgun sports evolved out of the desire of bird hunters to keep their shooting skills sharp during the off-season. Instead of live birds, shooters try to hit spinning, circular color clays launched in all directions by hand or by machine. The clays are meant to mimic birds in flight. Today’s shotgun sports appeals to more than just hunters. It is a sport unto itself.
As with women in most male dominated sports, the female athlete faces many challenges. In addition to learning and mastering the mechanics of the sport, a woman must deal with additional hurdles. A woman taking up a shotgun sport will face scrutiny from the men in the sport and surprisingly from other women.
Women will wonder about her motives. The women will look at a new woman and ask is she here to learn this sport? Is she serious about competing? Does she consider this a man store? Is she just looking for a husband? A female will also face scrutiny from non-shooting women. Women who have no experience with guns will assume that the female shooter either “wants to be a man” or is “too small to handle a gun and will get knocked around by it”.
Denise, a 47-year-old trap shooter and duck hunter who has been shooting since 1972, notes she gets more reaction from women who are not in the sport.
“Because I am smaller in stature, I often hear ‘how can you hold a gun?’ It is women who have little or no experience that will assume the gun is more powerful than me.”
She goes on to say the way today’s shotguns are constructed and the ability to shoot high scores with shells that have less recoil pave the way for an enjoyable experience without the fear of pain for both men and women.
The whispers from both sexes that a woman is taking up shotgun sports as a way to hook up with a man certainly has some basis in fact. After all, die-hard golfers claim the same thing! There are certainly several examples of successful couplings from women who join the sport and, by luck and love, find someone to share their sporting and life’s interests with. As I overheard one trap shooter say to the man I was shooting with on a “date,” “She is pretty, has a great personality…and shoots straight!” But it is agreed that any woman who enters the sport strictly to find a date or a mate will ultimately be disappointed.
Jennifer Carter was one such success story. Growing up, she accompanied her Dad to the trap range and found it the height of boring.
After breaking up with her boyfriend at the age of 26, she was looking for something to occupy her time, and went back to the range.
“Some men would actually walk out onto the line and tell me what I was doing wrong-while I was shooting!” Jennifer learned to just smile and nod and ignore everything they said, and continue to take her coaches advice.
She persevered in the sport and in 2000, met her future husband while trapshooting. Their first date was a shooting tournament and their wedding featured a clay target groom’s cake.
“Dave’s friends (her husband) are often telling him how lucky he is to have a wife who likes to shoot,” she said.
A woman will get many reactions from men ranging from politeness and respect as a shooter first and a woman second to abject, raw chauvinism.
Longtime shooter and consummate gentleman Pat Ireland is direct when asked his opinion on women in this man’s sport. “Away from a trap club I will treat women as Ladies. At the club, they are shooters.”
Respect is shown to women by men such as Pat Ireland, who will celebrate with them when they win and not show any mercy in a shoot off against them and beat them on the line without hesitation. These are the men who will proudly wear a button that reads, “Beat by a Girl.”
On the other side of the clay, we have the men who will refuse to shoot with women because they gossip, or are too slow, or “just plain don’t know how to shoot”. These are the men who won’t hesitate to run out on the line and interrupt a practice or even an event round to espouse their expertise by letting the little woman know everything she is doing wrong, no matter what her score is. There are the men who think a woman should be barefoot and pregnant and have no business holding a shotgun unless it’s in a trashy movie.
Jennifer Carter tells of one such experience. The winner of several tournaments, Jennifer, a Safety Director for a construction company, keeps several of her trophies on the walls and shelves in her office. She says she often faces disbelief and shock by her male clients when she informs them that no, they are not her husband’s awards, that they are indeed hers.
The first image people may get of a woman trap shooter is a hillbilly woman who dwarfs her man on the line in size and girth. If anything, it is just the opposite. As long-time trap shooter Linda Hoffman jokingly advised, “It’s not how you shoot, its how you look when you shoot.” Recently, there have been businesses spring up which cater to a woman’s shooting needs including tailored vests and products like the “Shoot Like A Girl” t-shirts.
Most men fall somewhere in the middle. They are perfectly content to shoot with women, but still regard them as women.
At a small private club one afternoon a little over a year ago, I walked up and asked about learning the sport. While I was getting my lesson a man observing could be overheard saying, “She has a cute face and great stance.”
Though this is high praise indeed from a trap shooter, his friends’ teasing reaction of “How come you never tell me I have a cute face?” illustrates that women are perceived differently in this sport.
Dave Snelling is familiar with the battle of the sexes when it comes to shooting; his wife Lisa is a Class A trap shooter in the Central Valley and has a closet full of belt-buckles and plaques to prove it. Dave is a bit behind Lisa in the sport and shoots at a lower level.
He has seen both types of pride and prejudice in this position. At one tournament, where his wife was doing particularly well; one of the shooters teasingly chastised him. “Your wife is kicking your ass, son! You better start shooting better!”
He also noted that even among the old-timers, there were compliments for his wife’s ability. During one shoot where his wife shot her way to a win her class, an old-timer, complete with grizzled, gray beard and a drawl perfected after years of chewing tobacco, leaned up next to him and intoned, “Your woman sure shoots good.” While not quite politically correct, it was taken as a compliment.
Is there any benefit to being a female in a male dominated sport? Ask the long-time women shooters and you will get a resounding yes. To be able to excel not only against a man in a male-dominated sport and to feel the personal pride of winning after the hard work and effort to learn the game, practice both the mechanics and the mental aspect, and win is as addictive as chocolate. And that is something that nobody, neither male nor female, can take away.
After all, it takes a lot of courage to “shoot like a girl!”

Welcome to my blog

I want to write. That is who I am. I feel like I'm accomplishing something when I can fill up a notebook or type a full page. My dream is to someday see some of my books in Barnes and Noble or Borders. Which brings me to here. I have written a couple of magazine type articles, I wrote for the UC Merced Writing Project, I am writing my first "real" novel and I write for fun. I'm hoping that with this blog, I can not only keep myself and my writing organized, but that I can share my successes and frustrations with you, and you in turn will share your successes and frustrations with me. So let's all sit back together and see if we can go for a ride!