Jitter Juice Revisited

     My colleagues and I decided to try our Jitter Juice lesson again this year on the first day of school.  It was so much better than last year (see post called "I'm GLAD to be a Teacher")!!
     I used the GLAD strategy for vocabulary (CCD chart, can't remember what that stands for!) in which I say a new word and they make predictions about what it means.  There was lots of discussion about what that word could mean.  Here are some of the responses:

"sitting up straight"
"space, like the universe"
"the universe" (perfect example of language acquistion!)
"the earth" (another great example!)
"a janitor, you know a spanish word for janitor" (this one had me in fits)

     I then praised them for their responses, as it seems like they really thought about it.  I then modeled the TPR (total physical response), which was like this:

Me:  "Jitters"
Them:  "Jitters"
Me:  fingernails in teeth, "nervous and worried" and eyebrows scrunched into a worried face
Them:  Copy me

     This would then be our signal word for all transitions for the next two days.

     Then I read First Day Jitters by Julie Danneburg.  It's a very cute book with a funny twist at the end!  All day long, I took stock and asked the class if they were feeling the jitters less or more, not at all, etc.
     During the last hour of the day, I poured grape soda into cups and had them line up.  When it was their turn to have Jitter Juice, I put a scoop of vanilla ice cream into the soda and I was delighted when each student lit up!  When I finished serving it up, I went outside (where they were sitting with another adult), I asked if it was helping.  The resounding, "YES!" said it all.
     When we came back into the room, I wrote on the board:  "Do you have the jitters now?" asked each student, and drew tally marks.  The score was 21 nos and 5 yeses.
     All in all, this was a fantastic first day of school.  Maybe the Jitter Juice really does help.

The Dog Ate My Homework

     

     Last year a student actually said to me, "My dog ate my homework."  It was all I could do to control my eyes from bugging out.  Let me inform you of some background...this girl is an awesome kid who has a great, outgoing personality and sense of humor.  However, she's the one we all have in our class who chronically has excuses for her homework not being done (we're talking 10 minutes a night plus some reading) and I hadn't seen her folder in weeks.  I gave her a new one (which I never saw again, btw), she had to miss recess on Friday (each week) when she failed to turn it in, which escalated to no morning recess until you bring in something that even remotely resembles homework.  I called her mother, but to no avail.  I have to convince myself that just because they don't learn their lesson in first grade doesn't mean it won't get learned later in life.
     Homework is due on Friday and sent home on that same day.  It is the same routine week after week.  It's even the same routine as in Kindergarten.  Before anything else happens on Friday morning, they are to get their folder and library book out and turn them in.  It's a bit exciting, all that activity, pride (relief?) evident on their faces when they turn both in and are relieved of responsibility for just a little while.  It's an accomplishment for a little kid to complete the pages, get them put back in the folder, put the folder in his/her backpack and then also remember (after 28 reminders) to turn it into the tub.
     Sometimes, however, students are extremely hard of hearing and fail to get it out of their backpacks and into the tub, even when I've told them to before they come in the room, even as a bunch of them are turning them in right before their very eyes, even when I tell individuals to do so, and yet when they are seated on the floor and I ask each student if he/she turned homework in, there is still someone who exclaims, "Oh!  I forgot!"  What's it like to be oblivious?  It must be nice, I'd love to try it!
     This year, I was thinking about Natalie's (not her real name) proclamation about the dog, and the general (seeming) inability of 6 year olds in general to follow the routine.

     Here is the amazing (really, not) thing I made in hopes that it will imprint on their little minds that the dog doesn't like your homework any more than you do, so get it done and turn it in:
   

     

It's kind of a roundabout process, but it's kind of a look into how the mind of a teacher works:

• This summer, I was cleaning out my closet and found a plastic Ikea magazine holder.  I never once used it and it wasn't assembled.  So what was my thought?  "Hm...I wonder how I could use this in my classroom?"  I set it aside.
• Last week I was surfing on Really Good Stuff and saw a cardboard "The Dog Ate My Homework" collection tub that cost $19.99.  My thought, "Hm...that's cute.  But I don't want to spend $20 bucks plus shipping and I can make that a lot cheaper."
• Two days ago, I was shopping at the Dollar Tree in the Teacher aisle when I came across a package of 2 classroom posters.  One of the posters was of the above dog with a piece of notebook paper in its mouth.  My thought, "Hm...I could use this for my homework collection tub."
• Last week, I got to my classroom for the first time since June and started sorting.  As things started taking shape, I came across my Ikea magazine holder.  I made the connection between the magazine holder and the poster (lightbulb!).  So I dropped everything and obsessed on making the new homework tub.  Priorities.

     I think it's cute!  My hope is that more kids will remember their homework on their own because it's fun to give it to the dog.  Who knows...that kind of thing would've worked on me at that age.  

**I can't for the life of me find the magazine holder on the Ikea website, but really, any tub you already have would work.  I just cut the poster apart and used postal tape**