As You Like It: Stars in My Eyes Pt. 1

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It’s so cold in this classroom today that you could hang meat in here, but still I’m thrilled to be in this room. It’s quiet, the sun is shining in my window, and, best of all, there are no deadlines this week. I’m hoping that for a couple of weeks at least, I will not have stress that approaches code orange levels. You know that your anxiety level is a bit high when you have trouble remembering your name, you forget where your keys, glasses, shoes, and children are, and you have to keep reminding yourself to breathe. But I’ve successfully given my first STAR trainings, so I can calm down for a few weeks.

I’ve already described the STAR reading program and how great it’s been for my students, and I’ve written about learning to be a trainer this year, beginning with my trip to San Antonio. It was at San Antonio that I realized just how much work would be involved in becoming a certified STAR trainer — or certifiably crazy, whichever came first. Certification includes things like writing essays, completing multiple forms, submitting invoices and video footage of our trainings (by return-receipt-insured-overnight-express-carrier pigeon) along with DNA samples and our firstborn. Steve keeps hoping that they’ll ask for the family dog as well.

The one wonderful aspect about the trainings is my assigned partner, Merilee. Merilee has done educational trainings for the Department of Education for years but was still as nervous as I was about the STAR classes. The reason? The incredible amount of information that we had to learn and the length of the sessions. Each training class is from nine to five, two days in a row — no time off for good behavior. But aside from our nerves we’re a great pair. Both of us believe that humor is a good thing, both of us enjoy teaching, and both of us are organized beyond belief and into lunacy. If one of us forgets something the other remembers it. We were each other’s safety net — I knew she would be there to catch me if I fell flat on my backside and visa versa.

We also recognized each other as kindred spirits, which came in handy during our training days. Remember that old movie They Shoot Horses Don’t They? — about the inhuman dance marathons during the Great Depression? There were times when it felt exactly like that. After six straight hours I would be stumbling over my tongue, but one look at Merilee would calm me down.

After San Antonio we had divided our training days and began studying the OED sized STAR manual. I also spent what seemed like days in Staples trying to organize myself and my presentation. I knew that I didn’t have to memorize anything, but I didn’t want to be constantly reading either. That’s the surest way to put anyone to sleep. So I roamed the aisles, trying out various things in my head: Would index cards work? And if so, what size? Small? Big? Humongous? White ones? Colored ones? Neon? Should I put them in an adorable baby blue loose-leaf folder, or just use clips? Would magenta highlighters stand out more than chartreuse? And what about file folders? There were just too many choices and none of them ensured that I wouldn’t drop everything on the floor or stutter like a fool.

I reined in my manic imagination and settled on large, colored index cards and some file folders. And stickie pads. And stickie tabs. And stickie stickies. And of course, highlighters in every color imaginable. I took my loot home and prepared to become a veritable fount of organization. However, in the end I took my trainer’s advice and used the original pages, putting each set of notes and handouts in its own file folder, sadly relinquishing up my blue loose-leaf binder.

I was so proud of my finished product that I spent an hour admiring the way it all went together — until I realized that I had to actually learn all of the stuff that was resting so serenely in those folders. After a nice glass of wine, I divided it all into segments and sat myself down on my couch, with my blankie, Snoopy and a cup of coffee, and began muttering to myself. That scene was repeated for many hours over the next few weeks.

One afternoon I screwed my courage to the sticking post and attempted the Powerpoint segment of our presentation. Steve gave me a quick lesson and soon I was happily clicking and drawing on slides with my pretend computer marker. Thank God one of us would be presenting while the other worked the Powerpoint so I wouldn’t have to walk and chew gum at the same time.

It was time for the final stage — talking to myself in the mirror with Snoopy listening and giving me feedback. There I stood, talking and gesturing and discovering how much more I had to practice to sound even slightly competent. Funny how it all sounds so good in your head but then emerges as babbling once it leaves your mouth.

A few weeks later, when I thought I wouldn’t completely embarrass myself, I made a date with Merilee to put it all together. When we were finished we felt a bit more confident—until we hit the polling debacle…….

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Posted by Joan Florek Schottenfeld on Feb 10 2011. Filed under As You Like It, Featured Content, Opinion. Both comments and pings are currently closed.