Welcoming Wednesdays, or, How Can I Have a Great Day Every Day?

In the classroom here, sometimes I feel ridiculous. I have walked my MacBook around the room so every student can see the image that I would have projected on the board if I had a projector. I have written entire grammar exercises on the white board so students can come up and add in the punctuation--again, oh for a projector! I try to follow the school's paper-light policy, and ergo give a lot of information verbally that I would rather make a packet of handouts for. The students are cooperative, attentive, and generally pretty stinking smart, so this doesn't necessarily adversely affect their learning.

Daily challenges are no reason to have a negative outlook on teaching. Wednesdays have the connotation of "stuck in the middle of the week." I can't say that I feel that way. Wednesdays mean I have two days under my belt and two days ahead to somehow juggle my lesson plans to make everything happen before the end of the day on Friday.

I love Wednesdays. I love every day. I don't love my habit of bumping my lesson plans around, but I love making the classes flow into each other. I love hearing my students discuss things before I even have to prompt them with questions. I love the puzzle of challenging my students that are ahead of the game (e.g. those who finished the entire the book when I assigned Ch. 1-2). What I really love is throwing in random opportunities for my students to earn bonus points (called Q-points up there in Room B). While doing a vocabulary exercise, for instance, fourteen pairs glazed eyes pleaded for mercy. When we came to a question asking for a definition of "aghast," I asked the young'uns to make a face as if they were aghast about something. Have you ever had fourteen pairs of eyes, open as wide as possible, suddenly fix themselves on you, accompanied by open mouths and shrill gasps? How could I not laugh for a solid three minutes? They all earned the Q-point, let me tell you. Teachers everywhere, have a reward system. Have a magic word. It brings light and joy into the classroom that will turn your world around. Hands that erstwhile held up heavy heads shoot into the air and wave wildly, begging to be called on. Feet that were tapping to a nonsensical beat cease movement as brains click on and responses fly into the air like so many starlings driven by ambition and instinct.

In case you are curious about what's going on my classes, here's a summary of my current classroom to-do list:
-Post student work on the bulletin boards (I may post pictures if it looks as phenomenal as I am hoping).
-Compile, print, and distribute the first student-written newspaper (I'm teaching the Journalism elective).
-Finish reading The Scarlet Letter, Peace Child, and Rascal (Ok, I have finished some of this reading; I do need to continuously review each class's homework assignment; my new dream superpower is the ability to predict student questions regarding novels before hearing the questions in the middle of class).
-Grade AmLit's Puritan-imitation poetry (Yeah, weird assignment. I'm a fan of weird assignments).
-Organize extra help groups.
-Write up the next set of lesson plans! This to-do list item never, ever moves! It's the greatest consistency and comfort of my life as a teacher! If all else fails, I can always write lesson plans!

Was that boring? I hope not. I'm not sure how interested my audience is in the teaching side of my life here. So there it is--short and sweet summary, I hope.

To give the short answer to the titular question, I can have a great day every day because I'm a teacher in Lilongwe.

Did that sound overly simplified, idealistic, and optimistic? It should have.

Here's my classroom. All my students love the chair arrangement. I didn't know it would be such a novelty. It's simple, but it's a keeper.

I'm not going to lie, I'd love to be able to share shots of my students. They make the room so much more interesting, trust me.