R.I.P., Greenie
When I was a middle school student, most of my teachers used red ink pens. When I did poorly on something, I wouldn't even look at what I had done wrong on an assignment because I was so put off by the fact that my paper looked like it had been dipped in blood. Even if the teacher wrote me an encouraging note, it read as condescending and snappy.
I had one teacher somewhere along the way who used green. Much less threatening. I could actually read what she wrote and figure out what I had done wrong without feeling stupid. Her use of a green ink pen actually made me like her more. So when I started teaching, I started using green ink pens. I occasionally use a red one, but not on anything that the kids need to correct. If it's got red ink on it, chances are it's getting filed instead of being returned to the student. Unless I have no choice because something horrible has happened to my green ink pen.
Before school started, I began looking for certain supplies, including green ink pens. There were none to be found! Not even Wal-Mart carried green ink pens. What's that about? The green ink pens used to be stocked right next to the red ones. Is there a low demand for green ink pens? Have we educators become so frustrated and angry that only red can convey our disgust?
I finally found a green pen, but I had to buy a pack of four pens to get it. The pack had one green, one blue, one black, and one red.
I wear a lanyard with my teacher i.d. and my keys, and I always hook my beloved green ink pen on there too, so it's close to my heart. All I had to do was reach for him, and he was there, ready to spare some disadvantaged child the pain of having his paper covered in red ink. We were partners, Greenie and I.
Thursday while my kids were testing, I went to the front of the room to check their binders. I had a stack of "from your teacher" notes, and planned to write down what each kid needed to do to get their binders in order, and leave the note in the binders for them. On the first note, I wrote, "Put all loose papers in appropriate sections!" The word "sections" looked a little lighter. On the next one, I had to stop and shake Greenie to get the whole note written. On the one after that, Greenie made a sputtering sound, and I heard the last of his breath eek out as his overworked body went limp in my hand.
At first, I couldn't accept the truth. I started to put him back in my desk drawer, thinking maybe he just needed a good night of sleep. But that would only lead to more disappointment the next day, so I buried him in the trash can.
For the rest of that day and the next, I kept reaching for him only to remember that he's gone. He's gone, and he'll never be back.
R.I.P., Greenie. You were the last of a dying breed.
I had one teacher somewhere along the way who used green. Much less threatening. I could actually read what she wrote and figure out what I had done wrong without feeling stupid. Her use of a green ink pen actually made me like her more. So when I started teaching, I started using green ink pens. I occasionally use a red one, but not on anything that the kids need to correct. If it's got red ink on it, chances are it's getting filed instead of being returned to the student. Unless I have no choice because something horrible has happened to my green ink pen.
Before school started, I began looking for certain supplies, including green ink pens. There were none to be found! Not even Wal-Mart carried green ink pens. What's that about? The green ink pens used to be stocked right next to the red ones. Is there a low demand for green ink pens? Have we educators become so frustrated and angry that only red can convey our disgust?
I finally found a green pen, but I had to buy a pack of four pens to get it. The pack had one green, one blue, one black, and one red.
I wear a lanyard with my teacher i.d. and my keys, and I always hook my beloved green ink pen on there too, so it's close to my heart. All I had to do was reach for him, and he was there, ready to spare some disadvantaged child the pain of having his paper covered in red ink. We were partners, Greenie and I.
Thursday while my kids were testing, I went to the front of the room to check their binders. I had a stack of "from your teacher" notes, and planned to write down what each kid needed to do to get their binders in order, and leave the note in the binders for them. On the first note, I wrote, "Put all loose papers in appropriate sections!" The word "sections" looked a little lighter. On the next one, I had to stop and shake Greenie to get the whole note written. On the one after that, Greenie made a sputtering sound, and I heard the last of his breath eek out as his overworked body went limp in my hand.
At first, I couldn't accept the truth. I started to put him back in my desk drawer, thinking maybe he just needed a good night of sleep. But that would only lead to more disappointment the next day, so I buried him in the trash can.
For the rest of that day and the next, I kept reaching for him only to remember that he's gone. He's gone, and he'll never be back.
R.I.P., Greenie. You were the last of a dying breed.
Labels: not so good news, teacher life
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