I have to say that overall I am very happy with the administration in my part of the school, at least the lower levels that I deal with. We have a principal who is hands on and excited about learning, we have a dean who has given me a tremendous amount of advice, and a house secretaries who have done an amazing amount of work for me and the rest of the house. It really makes my job a little more bearable, even on the unbearable days.
I wanted to write that before I wrote this rant to give them their fair due.
One of my juniors has missed a ton of class, doesn't do much work, and when she does come to class she spends the whole time talking. She doesn't live at home and her mom already treats her like trash, so she's not threatened by any grades or disciplinary action you can give her.
Obviously, there's lots to worry about. She's definitely at risk of dropping out and I'm pretty sure no one's doing much about it.
So I talked to the dean. I told her my concerns and asked for her advice. We agreed that maybe the best thing would be for the three of us to sit down and talk and see what we can do to help keep this kid on track, and make sure that she knows that there are people who care about her success.
Well, the scheduling didn't work and the dean had the conversation without me. She checked to see if that was okay. Everything's going good so far, right? We've got coordination, we've got mutual respect, and we've got an act formed out of love and concern for this kid.
That lasted apparently right up until the time the kid got to the dean's office, where she said "Mr. Gleason's new here, put yourself in his shoes."
No kidding. There was no "we're worried about your absences and your grades" or "you're following a pattern that's going to lead to dropping out." WTF?! Apparently her talking is caused by me being new.
The dean's either backed me up on everything or given me good advice on everything else. This one is both frustrating and mind-boggling. I hope to God that it's not a sign of things to come.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
"It ain't no stereotype, it's just the truth."
I grew up right next to the tracks. Not on the wrong side, not on the right side. It was kind of a unique place in that these tracks didn't seem to divide the town into "haves" and "have nots." Both sides were the right side. When I got to college on the South side of Chicago I lived near the tracks again, except these tracks didn't have a right side. It was bad news everywhere. I'm amazed that I didn't get my dumb white ass handed to me on the way to the El stop (they don't call it the subway in Chicago) a couple dozen times, or even just walking down the street by campus. It happened to a few people I knew, so I guess I was lucky (or maybe big and intimidating).
There wasn't much diversity in the town where I grew up. Most of us were white and I think there were maybe a few dozen kids of any color at my elementary school. I played with one black boy in my class a few times, but really didn't have much contact with anyone but the white kids. I was shy, and except for seizing every opportunity to be the class clown I couldn't figure out how to make my presence known in a crowd. The crowd of black kids on the playground was awfully loud and intimidating in this respect, so I never got to know any of them. All the loud shouting and carrying on made me want to run back to things I knew.
Fast forward a couple of decades with political correctness run amok, white people can't talk about race without both tripping over euphemisms and facing backlash from all sides. One of the things I love about the kids at my school is that race is so ever-present that they talk about it casually, like it were no big deal. One of the black kids in the class keeps calling a character named Elroy (a white guy from the rural midwest) with Leroy. So I can say to him, "Aaron, Elroy's from the sticks and Leroy's from the hood. The story is out in the sticks," and everyone laughs and we have fun.
The third time Aaron remembers the joke and isn't confused anymore. It's thin ice sometimes and you have to be careful, but as long as you're respectful no one gets their feelings hurt. We can talk about whether or not it's important that 95% of the staff is white while only about 30% of the students are. We can talk about the obvious differences in different cultural groups within a single class as well as the school. We can do it easily, without having to use the words "black" or "hispanic" (or whatever) instead of tripping over phrases that are even more politically-charged like "African-American" or "Latin-American" (a lot of these kids are anti-patriotic and don't like the "American" part, and a lot of black kids say things like "my family came from Brooklyn, I don't have any ties to Africa"). It makes it real easy to get right down to the heart of whatever it is we're talking about. And we do it without fear of mistakenly insulting someone, without tiptoeing around the topic at hand, without resorting to stereotypes, and without pissing each other off.
You might be familiar with the game Taboo. The object is to get your team to say a word by giving clues, but without saying any of the taboo words written on the card. So one of the black kids stands up in front of his team and says without hesitation, "Black people like this."
"FRIED CHICKEN!!!" shouts the team in unison, followed by an unproductive three or four minutes while they all talked about their favorite side dishes and couldn't think about anything but food. Funny how some stereotypes have so much truth in them that it makes it impossible to examine why they're stereotypes with these kids. "It ain't no stereotype, it's just the truth." That's how they feel about it.
There wasn't much diversity in the town where I grew up. Most of us were white and I think there were maybe a few dozen kids of any color at my elementary school. I played with one black boy in my class a few times, but really didn't have much contact with anyone but the white kids. I was shy, and except for seizing every opportunity to be the class clown I couldn't figure out how to make my presence known in a crowd. The crowd of black kids on the playground was awfully loud and intimidating in this respect, so I never got to know any of them. All the loud shouting and carrying on made me want to run back to things I knew.
Fast forward a couple of decades with political correctness run amok, white people can't talk about race without both tripping over euphemisms and facing backlash from all sides. One of the things I love about the kids at my school is that race is so ever-present that they talk about it casually, like it were no big deal. One of the black kids in the class keeps calling a character named Elroy (a white guy from the rural midwest) with Leroy. So I can say to him, "Aaron, Elroy's from the sticks and Leroy's from the hood. The story is out in the sticks," and everyone laughs and we have fun.
The third time Aaron remembers the joke and isn't confused anymore. It's thin ice sometimes and you have to be careful, but as long as you're respectful no one gets their feelings hurt. We can talk about whether or not it's important that 95% of the staff is white while only about 30% of the students are. We can talk about the obvious differences in different cultural groups within a single class as well as the school. We can do it easily, without having to use the words "black" or "hispanic" (or whatever) instead of tripping over phrases that are even more politically-charged like "African-American" or "Latin-American" (a lot of these kids are anti-patriotic and don't like the "American" part, and a lot of black kids say things like "my family came from Brooklyn, I don't have any ties to Africa"). It makes it real easy to get right down to the heart of whatever it is we're talking about. And we do it without fear of mistakenly insulting someone, without tiptoeing around the topic at hand, without resorting to stereotypes, and without pissing each other off.
You might be familiar with the game Taboo. The object is to get your team to say a word by giving clues, but without saying any of the taboo words written on the card. So one of the black kids stands up in front of his team and says without hesitation, "Black people like this."
"FRIED CHICKEN!!!" shouts the team in unison, followed by an unproductive three or four minutes while they all talked about their favorite side dishes and couldn't think about anything but food. Funny how some stereotypes have so much truth in them that it makes it impossible to examine why they're stereotypes with these kids. "It ain't no stereotype, it's just the truth." That's how they feel about it.
My fault
The fight was probably my fault. Fortunately these kids all know each other so well that they know when one of them is about to lose it, so three of them jumped up to hold Daysha back when she started stepping towards Emily.
One of the things that really frustrates me about the culture at this school is that the kids never learn how to de-escalate a conflict. Every statement requires a response, every insult needs to be topped, every threat needs to be one-upped. Things that should be little conflicts at worst blow up quickly.
We were playing a simple game. Two students sit next to each other with dictionaries, I say a word and they race to find the correct spelling. Emily has had some kind of verbal conflict with most of the girls in the class (I hear her say in a confrontational voice about three times a week "I'm dead ass, just try to prove me wrong"), but I don't think I knew the extent to which she was willing to take it. When Emily had beaten two opponents I thought she needed someone on her level to challenge her. Daysha is a bright kid and hadn't said a word all day, so I asked her to try it. Next thing I know Emily was walking away saying something, Daysha was walking towards her saying about the same thing, and then it was "I'll smack you in the face with a book" met with "I'll hit you in the head with a chair," and then shouting and clawing and the three-kid restraining team and the hall monitor and then it was finally done.
All because I thought Daysha could spell as well as Emily and thought some friendly competition might get them focused on something academic.
Stupid fucking mistake.
If I'm being honest with myself, the problem probably was really Emily's short fuse; the more I get to know this kid the more I think that she's a catalyst who needs just the right critical mass to cause a huge explosion, and that critical mass is not small. Too much mass and her explosion will get snuffed, too little and it won't have any fuel to burn. This kid needs an audience.
And she needs a teacher who can help keep her from getting herself in that deep that quickly.
One of the things that really frustrates me about the culture at this school is that the kids never learn how to de-escalate a conflict. Every statement requires a response, every insult needs to be topped, every threat needs to be one-upped. Things that should be little conflicts at worst blow up quickly.
We were playing a simple game. Two students sit next to each other with dictionaries, I say a word and they race to find the correct spelling. Emily has had some kind of verbal conflict with most of the girls in the class (I hear her say in a confrontational voice about three times a week "I'm dead ass, just try to prove me wrong"), but I don't think I knew the extent to which she was willing to take it. When Emily had beaten two opponents I thought she needed someone on her level to challenge her. Daysha is a bright kid and hadn't said a word all day, so I asked her to try it. Next thing I know Emily was walking away saying something, Daysha was walking towards her saying about the same thing, and then it was "I'll smack you in the face with a book" met with "I'll hit you in the head with a chair," and then shouting and clawing and the three-kid restraining team and the hall monitor and then it was finally done.
All because I thought Daysha could spell as well as Emily and thought some friendly competition might get them focused on something academic.
Stupid fucking mistake.
If I'm being honest with myself, the problem probably was really Emily's short fuse; the more I get to know this kid the more I think that she's a catalyst who needs just the right critical mass to cause a huge explosion, and that critical mass is not small. Too much mass and her explosion will get snuffed, too little and it won't have any fuel to burn. This kid needs an audience.
And she needs a teacher who can help keep her from getting herself in that deep that quickly.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
defecits
Like most boys, I think, I always thought my father had some incredibly obnoxious habits, particularly when it came to how he dealt with me. Probably the most intolerable (and cause of the most fights) was how he always focussed on what I didn't do instead of what I did accomplish. If I'd bring home a math test that was a 95%, he'd say "why wasn't it a hundred?" Keep in mind that I was not a particularly good student throughout most of high school, even though every standardized test I ever took was scored in the 99th percentile.
That's one hell of a whammy to lay on your kid, always asking why a B wasn't an A and why an A wasn't perfect. There was never any real follow up to help me get perfect scores, I just had to live with the imperfections and constant disappointment. I think it's like catholics and guilt, and it's something I still carry with me to this day. If I don't do something perfectly I'm like as not to worry about that little bit that wasn't right and forget about the rest. Everything I wrote before about counting your victories is crap and I really don't believe it most days. I want to believe, but I really don't, not deep down.
I "only" got a 3.89 GPA in grad school. And I'm pissed at myself about it. I could have gotten a 4.0 if I'd worked at it.
Because I keep carrying this big whammy around with me it's tough to leave work most days with a sense of accomplishment, even though my dean and my mentor teacher keep telling me that I'm doing a good job and tell me the horror stories of other first year teachers. I keep looking in my gradebook and see that at least a third of my students aren't doing their homework, and I really feel like there's some way in which I'm failing them because I can't inspire them (or coerce them) to get to work. I've connected on some level with most of my students, but some of my struggling students are still deliberately keeping me at a distance and the frustration that I can't reach them at all is making me grind my teeth some days.
On the flip side, I know that the first year or two are supposed to be hard, almost hellish sometimes, and some days I feel like what should have gone incredibly badly was really okay and I'm trying to think of that as an accomplishment. A few of my failing students are starting to do enough work to pass my class but aren't working so hard in their other classes. A few others aren't doing any work but they're opening up to me, and I have a feeling that someday soon I'll find that opening that will allow me to convince them to put in enough effort to pass. Small victories.
That isn't enough to fill me with the sense of price and accomplishment I want to feel from the job I feel like I was born to do, but it's a start. Sunny days help a lot, too.
That's one hell of a whammy to lay on your kid, always asking why a B wasn't an A and why an A wasn't perfect. There was never any real follow up to help me get perfect scores, I just had to live with the imperfections and constant disappointment. I think it's like catholics and guilt, and it's something I still carry with me to this day. If I don't do something perfectly I'm like as not to worry about that little bit that wasn't right and forget about the rest. Everything I wrote before about counting your victories is crap and I really don't believe it most days. I want to believe, but I really don't, not deep down.
I "only" got a 3.89 GPA in grad school. And I'm pissed at myself about it. I could have gotten a 4.0 if I'd worked at it.
Because I keep carrying this big whammy around with me it's tough to leave work most days with a sense of accomplishment, even though my dean and my mentor teacher keep telling me that I'm doing a good job and tell me the horror stories of other first year teachers. I keep looking in my gradebook and see that at least a third of my students aren't doing their homework, and I really feel like there's some way in which I'm failing them because I can't inspire them (or coerce them) to get to work. I've connected on some level with most of my students, but some of my struggling students are still deliberately keeping me at a distance and the frustration that I can't reach them at all is making me grind my teeth some days.
On the flip side, I know that the first year or two are supposed to be hard, almost hellish sometimes, and some days I feel like what should have gone incredibly badly was really okay and I'm trying to think of that as an accomplishment. A few of my failing students are starting to do enough work to pass my class but aren't working so hard in their other classes. A few others aren't doing any work but they're opening up to me, and I have a feeling that someday soon I'll find that opening that will allow me to convince them to put in enough effort to pass. Small victories.
That isn't enough to fill me with the sense of price and accomplishment I want to feel from the job I feel like I was born to do, but it's a start. Sunny days help a lot, too.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
How I got the job
I never knew what it was that caused the school district to call me out of the 100 or so applicants they had for the job, or how on Earth I managed to win the job when competing against at least 4 other teachers who had experience. This particularly didn't make any sense when they hadn't seen my transcript or recommendations.
It just happens that my new mentor was one of the interviewers and this came up while we were talking this week. She said "We thought you didn't really say very much," (no one has ever accused me of being brief or un-talkative...) "but you were the only one that didn't shoot themselves in the foot." So I got the job because I was the only one that didn't screw up in the interview.
Good enough, I'll take it. I would have rather heard something about how they liked my philosophies and pedagogy, but the bottom line is that I've got the job and I'm keeping it.
It just happens that my new mentor was one of the interviewers and this came up while we were talking this week. She said "We thought you didn't really say very much," (no one has ever accused me of being brief or un-talkative...) "but you were the only one that didn't shoot themselves in the foot." So I got the job because I was the only one that didn't screw up in the interview.
Good enough, I'll take it. I would have rather heard something about how they liked my philosophies and pedagogy, but the bottom line is that I've got the job and I'm keeping it.
Monday, October 02, 2006
When you really know fear...
Kainen was absent from class one day last week. He's a good kid, plays on the varsity soccer team, real enthusiastic and seems to like class. He's one of the ones you miss when he's not there. For a lot of my students absences are almost as common as the days they're in class, so there are sometimes a lot of kids to miss.
I saw him in the hall at the end of the day and asked him why he missed my class. The story he told me was not one I was prepared for. He had an excellent reason for missing class. See, the police had to interview him to complete the report about the incident when another kid on the soccer team pulled a knife on him and held it to his throat.
Real slow, in case you missed that... One of his teammates threatened his life with a deadly weapon on school grounds.
Holy what-the-hell, Batman!
The police arrested the teammate and I heard that he was under house arrest, but word is that this kid is connected with a gang, maybe a new one in the school. There's plenty of reason to worry about retaliation, and Kainen was worried about it. They had an away game that night and he was worried about being on the bus with the knife-wielder's friends and I can't blame him. When a lighthearted and happy kid is worried, it shows easily.
So you can imagine what went through my mind when Kainen missed class the next day. Like I said, absences are common so there was no need to panic, but the worst definitely entered my mind. There's a different kind of fear that can start to set in when something like this happens, and it's not one I've ever felt before. Fortunately that test pilot side of me managed to keep things on an even keel while I got the right information, but this kind of fear is hard to keep at bay.
Our computer system allows us to track attendance througout the day and showed that he missed all of his classes. I spoke to my principal, but she never followed up on it. I just wanted to make sure the kid was alright.
Fortunately, a phone call to his mom after school was all it took to find out that the kid was stressed out so she let him stay home. (Why the principal didn't make that call in the middle of the day when I spoke to her about it is another issue.) In fact, it was heartwarming to find that both Kainen and his mom were grateful for the call and went out of their way to make sure I knew how much it meant to them.
But all that is really just back story, because here's what makes me really afraid. It was in the paper and someone in each of my classes knew the story so we talked about it in class. The sort of things I was hearing were "It was just a kitchen knife. What idiot brings a kitchen knife to school?!" and "I wouldn't have snitched on him. Snitches go down, that's just how it is. It's better to live with the fear than to tell the cops."
One more time: Holy what-the-hell, Batman!
Obviously, there's lots of work to be done with this community, and I'm not sure that either the school or I are well-equipped to do that work.
I saw him in the hall at the end of the day and asked him why he missed my class. The story he told me was not one I was prepared for. He had an excellent reason for missing class. See, the police had to interview him to complete the report about the incident when another kid on the soccer team pulled a knife on him and held it to his throat.
Real slow, in case you missed that... One of his teammates threatened his life with a deadly weapon on school grounds.
Holy what-the-hell, Batman!
The police arrested the teammate and I heard that he was under house arrest, but word is that this kid is connected with a gang, maybe a new one in the school. There's plenty of reason to worry about retaliation, and Kainen was worried about it. They had an away game that night and he was worried about being on the bus with the knife-wielder's friends and I can't blame him. When a lighthearted and happy kid is worried, it shows easily.
So you can imagine what went through my mind when Kainen missed class the next day. Like I said, absences are common so there was no need to panic, but the worst definitely entered my mind. There's a different kind of fear that can start to set in when something like this happens, and it's not one I've ever felt before. Fortunately that test pilot side of me managed to keep things on an even keel while I got the right information, but this kind of fear is hard to keep at bay.
Our computer system allows us to track attendance througout the day and showed that he missed all of his classes. I spoke to my principal, but she never followed up on it. I just wanted to make sure the kid was alright.
Fortunately, a phone call to his mom after school was all it took to find out that the kid was stressed out so she let him stay home. (Why the principal didn't make that call in the middle of the day when I spoke to her about it is another issue.) In fact, it was heartwarming to find that both Kainen and his mom were grateful for the call and went out of their way to make sure I knew how much it meant to them.
But all that is really just back story, because here's what makes me really afraid. It was in the paper and someone in each of my classes knew the story so we talked about it in class. The sort of things I was hearing were "It was just a kitchen knife. What idiot brings a kitchen knife to school?!" and "I wouldn't have snitched on him. Snitches go down, that's just how it is. It's better to live with the fear than to tell the cops."
One more time: Holy what-the-hell, Batman!
Obviously, there's lots of work to be done with this community, and I'm not sure that either the school or I are well-equipped to do that work.
paper clips
It seems that nearly every other teacher I see has a highly complex system of organization that would make any mid-level manager of a state agency very proud. They are particularly good at the creative implementation of paper clips along with all sorts of other calendars, plan books, grade books, and files and files and files.
So far I have 6 files, a couple of spreadsheets, a calendar that I always forget to use, and have not figured out why paper clips are so important in a teacher's life.
So far I have 6 files, a couple of spreadsheets, a calendar that I always forget to use, and have not figured out why paper clips are so important in a teacher's life.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
connect
Dayshawn is a good kid, as far as I can tell. He's quiet in class and doesn't seem motivated to do his English homework, but this isn't anything like his first love. He's a musician, and I'm going to guess that he spends every minute he can thinking about or playing music. The band he's in made it to the final rounds of competition at the Apollo last year. Haven't found out the details yet, but it sounds pretty cool. He started off in my class but was switched to a different section to solve a conflict. He asked to get himself switched back when he found out that I'm a Victor Wooten fan too.
Mike is more of a typical kid and just started playing bass as well. To look at him, you'd think he was more or less a typical kid into heavy metal. Lots of metal band tshirts, usually wears black jeans, long hair which he doesn't style... He doesn't have much to say in class, but every day at the end he manages to find something new to talk about with me, almost always about music. All it took was the Hendrix poster I put up on the wall to get him to open up a little bit.
It's amazing how it only takes a few small connections to start changing things.
Mike is more of a typical kid and just started playing bass as well. To look at him, you'd think he was more or less a typical kid into heavy metal. Lots of metal band tshirts, usually wears black jeans, long hair which he doesn't style... He doesn't have much to say in class, but every day at the end he manages to find something new to talk about with me, almost always about music. All it took was the Hendrix poster I put up on the wall to get him to open up a little bit.
It's amazing how it only takes a few small connections to start changing things.
The things they don't tell you.
I've been struggling with a couple of my classes, trying to keep some semblance of order so we could get on to actually learning some of the skills they'll need to pass their big test at the end of the year. I mean really struggling. When I talk they start talking louder so that they can hear me. The only effective way I have to get one class under control is to shout "QUIET!" every once in a while. I don't like doing it, but nothing else is working yet.
I was even beginning to have doubts about whether or not I could really handle being an urban teacher, wondering if I'd made a huge mistake and if these kids were going to suffer because I wasn't prepared to teach them.
And then one day a couple of older teachers stopped by after school to beat me out of my lunch money.
I'm kidding about that. They asked very politely for my money. I forget exactly what it's for, birthday cakes on our birthdays or something... They have each been teaching for about 30 years, and most of those years in Schenectady High School. We talked about all sorts of teachery things, including my two most unruly classes. That's when one of them said it always takes her at least 3 weeks to get them under control at the beginning of each year.
Why the hell didn't anyone tell me this before? All this time I thought I was screwing up big time and it turns out that this is normal!
Time to relax a little bit.
I was even beginning to have doubts about whether or not I could really handle being an urban teacher, wondering if I'd made a huge mistake and if these kids were going to suffer because I wasn't prepared to teach them.
And then one day a couple of older teachers stopped by after school to beat me out of my lunch money.
I'm kidding about that. They asked very politely for my money. I forget exactly what it's for, birthday cakes on our birthdays or something... They have each been teaching for about 30 years, and most of those years in Schenectady High School. We talked about all sorts of teachery things, including my two most unruly classes. That's when one of them said it always takes her at least 3 weeks to get them under control at the beginning of each year.
Why the hell didn't anyone tell me this before? All this time I thought I was screwing up big time and it turns out that this is normal!
Time to relax a little bit.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Small victories
Itty bitty little teeny tiny victories.
They come from out of nowhere. Right? Nobody plans tiny little victories. People who plan victories plan momentous events, worthy of mention in the local paper if not an interview on NBC Nightly News.
So it surprised the hell out of me when Chrissy stopped in after school today. Her class is out of control. And I was pretty sure that she hated me. This is the one that told me (without any sense of irony) that she thought it was rude when teachers interrupt conversations that students are having during class.
She was concerned about her grade on a quiz, but after talking about that I managed to steer her towards talking about why her class is out of control. And I think I got her to come around to the idea that the class is keeping her from learning and that they will respond when she asks them to be quiet. Not all at once or right away, but it will happen.
Hamid feels the same way. Two kids complaining about the behavior of their class may be enough to start getting the class in line. At least I know two kids who really care. That's worth celebrating.
Now, if I hadn't forgotten my wallet I could stop for a cold drink on my way to a late after school meeting. Small victories will have to be celebrated later.
They come from out of nowhere. Right? Nobody plans tiny little victories. People who plan victories plan momentous events, worthy of mention in the local paper if not an interview on NBC Nightly News.
So it surprised the hell out of me when Chrissy stopped in after school today. Her class is out of control. And I was pretty sure that she hated me. This is the one that told me (without any sense of irony) that she thought it was rude when teachers interrupt conversations that students are having during class.
She was concerned about her grade on a quiz, but after talking about that I managed to steer her towards talking about why her class is out of control. And I think I got her to come around to the idea that the class is keeping her from learning and that they will respond when she asks them to be quiet. Not all at once or right away, but it will happen.
Hamid feels the same way. Two kids complaining about the behavior of their class may be enough to start getting the class in line. At least I know two kids who really care. That's worth celebrating.
Now, if I hadn't forgotten my wallet I could stop for a cold drink on my way to a late after school meeting. Small victories will have to be celebrated later.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Pop quiz
I am trying hard this week to take some consolation in the fact that every new teacher is supposed to have trouble their first year. Or two. Or four. My trouble classes are not getting better, though they may not be getting worse, either.
An older teacher saw my freshman class for a few minutes yesterday and said to me "It's not you, it's them." It's quite a relief to hear that there's nothing particular I'm doing wrong, but it seems like there's nothing in particular that I'm doing right, either. What I do know right now is that all the techniques that are supposed to work to modify behaviors (proximity, consistency, modelling respect, showing fairness, de-escalating instead of escalating, one-on-one counseling) are not. Raising your voice doesn't work. The kids just talk to each other more loudly so they can hear themselves.
Today's improvised solution: I announced a quiz tomorrow. None of them were listening. I'm not sure how many of them really care about their grades enough to learn a lesson from it, but we'll see.
An older teacher saw my freshman class for a few minutes yesterday and said to me "It's not you, it's them." It's quite a relief to hear that there's nothing particular I'm doing wrong, but it seems like there's nothing in particular that I'm doing right, either. What I do know right now is that all the techniques that are supposed to work to modify behaviors (proximity, consistency, modelling respect, showing fairness, de-escalating instead of escalating, one-on-one counseling) are not. Raising your voice doesn't work. The kids just talk to each other more loudly so they can hear themselves.
Today's improvised solution: I announced a quiz tomorrow. None of them were listening. I'm not sure how many of them really care about their grades enough to learn a lesson from it, but we'll see.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Founded dumb
Part of today's 11th grade class was a discussion about respect, what it means to show it, what characteristics make someone respectable, etc...
A few of the students complained that a lot of teachers don't respect the students. Emily, chimed in with "Yeah. It's very disrespectful when teachers interrupt our conversations."
"Emily, do you mean before or after the bell has rung?"
"After. I mean it's not like we're going to talk for two hours or anything."
What on Earth do you say to that?
A few of the students complained that a lot of teachers don't respect the students. Emily, chimed in with "Yeah. It's very disrespectful when teachers interrupt our conversations."
"Emily, do you mean before or after the bell has rung?"
"After. I mean it's not like we're going to talk for two hours or anything."
What on Earth do you say to that?
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Loving every minute
I managed to land a sweetheart deal with this job. 2 preps, 4 sections of 11th grade and 1 section of 9th. Most teachers have 3. Some are asked to do 4 preps, though our union contract stipulates that they must agree to it and they get extra money. I have my own classroom and am in it for all but one class. I've been told to keep my mouth shut about this as more senior teachers are running all over the place. My classes are capped at 26 students, but only one class even comes close to this. Most are under 20.
This really seems like a cool high school. It's huge, but almost all of them are these days. So they followed the middle school model and broke the scool into 4 houses. I'm in the Fine Arts house, which has an audio and visual production studio, dance studio, instrumental music, choir, and seemingly all of the really cool English courses. Nearly every one of the teachers and staff has been both friendly and helpful. I'm a pretty good judge of when someone's genuinely nice and when they're just being polite, and everyone I have to work with is genuine. This is a biggie.
Here's another biggie: No one seems to care a lot about the specifics of what I teach. There are 3 required books and several more to choose from, but nothing else is defined. Everyone I've spoken to has incredibly helpful suggestions, but it's up to me. Which for me means that it's up to the students. I told them that there are a few things that we have to do, but that they get to have a lot of input on all of the rest of it.
I've got about 100 students and so far I seem to have made at least a small connection with at least half of them already, just by telling them that they get a lot of choice.
I really hate getting up early, but I really love going to work in the morning now. I've definitely found a great place for me.
This really seems like a cool high school. It's huge, but almost all of them are these days. So they followed the middle school model and broke the scool into 4 houses. I'm in the Fine Arts house, which has an audio and visual production studio, dance studio, instrumental music, choir, and seemingly all of the really cool English courses. Nearly every one of the teachers and staff has been both friendly and helpful. I'm a pretty good judge of when someone's genuinely nice and when they're just being polite, and everyone I have to work with is genuine. This is a biggie.
Here's another biggie: No one seems to care a lot about the specifics of what I teach. There are 3 required books and several more to choose from, but nothing else is defined. Everyone I've spoken to has incredibly helpful suggestions, but it's up to me. Which for me means that it's up to the students. I told them that there are a few things that we have to do, but that they get to have a lot of input on all of the rest of it.
I've got about 100 students and so far I seem to have made at least a small connection with at least half of them already, just by telling them that they get a lot of choice.
I really hate getting up early, but I really love going to work in the morning now. I've definitely found a great place for me.
I am an urban educator
I am an urban educator. I'm not yet sure exactly what that means, but I know I am one because the school superintendent told all of us teachers we are in his introductory speech on the first work day for teachers.
I also know I'm an urban educator because when I tell them that I'm working at Schenectady High School they grunt, sigh, grimace, or in some way offer their condolences. Teachers in suburban schools say things like "Wow. I couldn't do it."
They're right. They couldn't do it. I am doing it.
I also know I'm an urban educator because when I tell them that I'm working at Schenectady High School they grunt, sigh, grimace, or in some way offer their condolences. Teachers in suburban schools say things like "Wow. I couldn't do it."
They're right. They couldn't do it. I am doing it.
Getting up to speed
Here's how it happened.
Tuesday, 8/23, 4:45 PM: Voicemail message, you're wanted for an interview at Schenectady High School. Can you make it tomorrow morning?
Tomorrow morning: kind of a weird interview. Reminded me that educators are really bad at the HR thing. Managed to get a couple of key statements in, but it was clear that the interviewers were getting worn out from talking to people and I couldn't engage any of them very well. Was pretty sure I was out of the running.
Thursday afternoon: Eric, this is the school secretary. We'd like you to schedule an interview with the superintendent as soon as possible. Me: How early do you want me there?
Friday morning, 8 AM, interview with the assistant superintendent: He asked scripted questions, wrote shorthand versions of my answers on a form, then signed it before I was done talking. Ended with "You passed the test, you got an A. You'll be getting a call this afternoon."
Note that he didn't actually say that I got the job.
Friday afternoon: no call.
Friday night: I called the ELA coordinator. Nobody told her I'd interviewed with the superintendent yet. She hemmed and hawed for a bit, until I finally said "I understand you can't formally offer me a job until the whole HR process is complete, but where do we stand?" Her: "You're the only one we sent for a 2nd interview. I'll double-check Monday morning, but I'm sure everything's a go. Orientation starts Tuesday at 8:30."
I still don't know exactly what made them give me the first phone call, or what it was that made me beat out the 5 or 6 other people they interviewed, but I'm not letting them take it back.
Tuesday, 8/23, 4:45 PM: Voicemail message, you're wanted for an interview at Schenectady High School. Can you make it tomorrow morning?
Tomorrow morning: kind of a weird interview. Reminded me that educators are really bad at the HR thing. Managed to get a couple of key statements in, but it was clear that the interviewers were getting worn out from talking to people and I couldn't engage any of them very well. Was pretty sure I was out of the running.
Thursday afternoon: Eric, this is the school secretary. We'd like you to schedule an interview with the superintendent as soon as possible. Me: How early do you want me there?
Friday morning, 8 AM, interview with the assistant superintendent: He asked scripted questions, wrote shorthand versions of my answers on a form, then signed it before I was done talking. Ended with "You passed the test, you got an A. You'll be getting a call this afternoon."
Note that he didn't actually say that I got the job.
Friday afternoon: no call.
Friday night: I called the ELA coordinator. Nobody told her I'd interviewed with the superintendent yet. She hemmed and hawed for a bit, until I finally said "I understand you can't formally offer me a job until the whole HR process is complete, but where do we stand?" Her: "You're the only one we sent for a 2nd interview. I'll double-check Monday morning, but I'm sure everything's a go. Orientation starts Tuesday at 8:30."
I still don't know exactly what made them give me the first phone call, or what it was that made me beat out the 5 or 6 other people they interviewed, but I'm not letting them take it back.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Sorry for the delay....
It's been almost 4 months since I posted anything. My sincerest apologies to everyone who has been reading and offering support. There was always plenty to say, maybe too much, and sometimes when there's too much I get studck and don't do any of it. The end of the 2005-06 school year was frustrating, to say the least.
1st frustration: I didn't even get an interview in the district where I finished my student teaching. I knew everyone in the English department, had recommendations from the current and past department coordinators, the principal liked me, and I knew the curricula for two of the openings they had. Out of 4 or 5 total positions they filled this year, I didn't even get a call. I didn't push it because I really didn't like the department, but it's disheartening to see that the people you worked with won't even give you the courtesy of an interview.
2nd frustration: Not one of my new batch of students had any motivation to succeed. No matter what techniques I tried, I could only get them to do the barest minimum amount of work, and not nearly enough to pass their finals or regents tests. And I did try every technique in every book I could find. For one reason or another, they were determined to fail and there wasn't much I could do about it.
One of them had a legitimate excuse. Her parents are drug dealers and she has a horrible home life. She also has some sort of emotional disturbance that she lets get the better of her. She actually made the biggest strides and I was incredibly proud to see her starting to succeed at math, something she hasn't done in three years. But she melted down during finals week and failed to show for two of her tests. No good reason, she just didn't show up. Our meeting spot was a quarter mile from her house and the weather was nice. She just didn't manage to make it that day. She did show up for her Math final, but melted down at the end and refused to use all of the alotted time for the problems. I think she could have figured it out if she tried a little more, but she gave up and missed passing by 7 points.
The other two just didn't want to work. One of them actually said this to me while we in the library to do research for his essay: "Mr. G., I didn't know we were going to have to use, like reading books." I'm not sure what kind of books he had in mind.
By the end of the school year I was simply glad to be done. I miss all of my students, but it is a relief not to have to teach them now.
1st frustration: I didn't even get an interview in the district where I finished my student teaching. I knew everyone in the English department, had recommendations from the current and past department coordinators, the principal liked me, and I knew the curricula for two of the openings they had. Out of 4 or 5 total positions they filled this year, I didn't even get a call. I didn't push it because I really didn't like the department, but it's disheartening to see that the people you worked with won't even give you the courtesy of an interview.
2nd frustration: Not one of my new batch of students had any motivation to succeed. No matter what techniques I tried, I could only get them to do the barest minimum amount of work, and not nearly enough to pass their finals or regents tests. And I did try every technique in every book I could find. For one reason or another, they were determined to fail and there wasn't much I could do about it.
One of them had a legitimate excuse. Her parents are drug dealers and she has a horrible home life. She also has some sort of emotional disturbance that she lets get the better of her. She actually made the biggest strides and I was incredibly proud to see her starting to succeed at math, something she hasn't done in three years. But she melted down during finals week and failed to show for two of her tests. No good reason, she just didn't show up. Our meeting spot was a quarter mile from her house and the weather was nice. She just didn't manage to make it that day. She did show up for her Math final, but melted down at the end and refused to use all of the alotted time for the problems. I think she could have figured it out if she tried a little more, but she gave up and missed passing by 7 points.
The other two just didn't want to work. One of them actually said this to me while we in the library to do research for his essay: "Mr. G., I didn't know we were going to have to use, like reading books." I'm not sure what kind of books he had in mind.
By the end of the school year I was simply glad to be done. I miss all of my students, but it is a relief not to have to teach them now.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Dear Hiring Manager,
Dear Hiring Manager,
Certain individuals have informed me that the mere existence of a blog can be enough for a potential employer to deny a candidate a job. I sincerly hope that this is not the case in your district, and I believe that if you take a few moments to read the contents of my blog you'll see that it contains the sort of reflexive analysis that a professional in any industry should engage in, even if it does sometimes expose the less-than-desirable aspects of a school.
With love & pedagogy,
Eric Gleason
Certain individuals have informed me that the mere existence of a blog can be enough for a potential employer to deny a candidate a job. I sincerly hope that this is not the case in your district, and I believe that if you take a few moments to read the contents of my blog you'll see that it contains the sort of reflexive analysis that a professional in any industry should engage in, even if it does sometimes expose the less-than-desirable aspects of a school.
With love & pedagogy,
Eric Gleason
Leash laws
Spring has come here in full-force, which means that Jed and I are itching to get outdoors as much as we can. I kind of miss being a student myself, but I sure don't miss the homework and am really enjoying having my evenings free again, which means there's plenty of time to take Jed to the park instead of a quick walk around the neighborhood.Those that know Jed know that he's a big mushball and scared of his own shadow. He was a stray and around 3 when I got him, so I don't think he learned to play or socialize much when he was younger. He really doesn't know what to do around other dogs most of the time. He'll sniff and act interested, but his stance is always fully erect and it's obvious that he doesn't quite know what he's supposed to do to act like a dog. And like a lot of dogs, he's so distracted by what's going on around him that he can no longer listen to commands, which means I've been very leery of letting him off his leash in open areas.
But two days ago I took a chance. We were surrounded by probably 20 other dogs at the park, and after he finally took an interest in a couple them I let go of the leash to see what would happen. What happened was that Jed had the time of his life. He and a husky chased each other back and forth for a while and he and two other mutts kept sniffing and bumping each other around a bit. And the most surprising thing was that he actually came back to me when I called him.
This got me thinking about what might happen when we finally let go of the leash we keep on our students. Most teachers keep that leash incredibly tight all the time and anything but strict obedience has consequences. So what happens when we let go of that leash, and maybe let students choose the path they want for class sometimes?
I worry that too much direction creates people that can only follow strict orders and can't think for themselves when that leash is gone.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
I'm a test pilot
I sat down for another mock interview today, this time with a real educator and not an HR-type that's pretending to know what they're looking for when they hire someone. It's nice of the college to do this for us, helping us find the faults that will come through so that our actual interviews are more successful.
The interviewer mentioned something about me being poised and not appearing nervous, even though I talk fast. (I do talk really fast. Southerners usually can't understand me.) And it occurred to me that the reason why I'm not nervous in interviews is because I just don't get nervous much. Like a test pilot.
I have been reading a lot about the early space program lately (one of my passions since early childhood), but I don't think that's the reason why I've got test piloting on the brain all the time.
It just happens that I'm the sort of person that likes to test new ideas, techniques, and technology, and see if it's practical. Just like a test pilot. And like a test pilot, I'm not dumb enough to test something that's obviously dangerous to work with, and I'm smart enough to stop the test if it looks like it's going to get out of control. Each test is an experiment, you need to stick to the test plan to get good data, the test plan needs to be planned, but you also need to be willing to abandon it if it's going to blow up on you.
I'm pretty sure I'm not exactly the Chuck Yeager of the classroom, but there's an equivalent breed of teachers and I'm one of them.
The interviewer mentioned something about me being poised and not appearing nervous, even though I talk fast. (I do talk really fast. Southerners usually can't understand me.) And it occurred to me that the reason why I'm not nervous in interviews is because I just don't get nervous much. Like a test pilot.
I have been reading a lot about the early space program lately (one of my passions since early childhood), but I don't think that's the reason why I've got test piloting on the brain all the time.
It just happens that I'm the sort of person that likes to test new ideas, techniques, and technology, and see if it's practical. Just like a test pilot. And like a test pilot, I'm not dumb enough to test something that's obviously dangerous to work with, and I'm smart enough to stop the test if it looks like it's going to get out of control. Each test is an experiment, you need to stick to the test plan to get good data, the test plan needs to be planned, but you also need to be willing to abandon it if it's going to blow up on you.
I'm pretty sure I'm not exactly the Chuck Yeager of the classroom, but there's an equivalent breed of teachers and I'm one of them.
Gettin' it done
The past few weeks have been rough on me, health-wise. I don’t get sick very much, but have managed to contract two colds in just over a month. Both of them have dragged on interminably. The one I’m recovering from now started almost two weeks ago, and I’ve still got a lingering cough and congestion. As if that weren’t bad enough, last Thursday I became infected with cellulitis, a skin infection that progresses so rapidly that it scares the hell out of you. In less than 24 hours it went from something that looked like a pimple to an infection that covered nearly half my face, making me look like I’d just been horribly irradiated. Some strong antibiotics are taking care of it and now I’m left with what looks like a little bit of sunburn.
For the first time in quite a while, I took time off of work because I was actually sick. I’ve used sick days before, but rarely because of anything worse than a lack of sleep or need for a “mental health day.” There was plenty of work to get done while I was home, but I did little besides nap, read, and watch TV. Even after the fever faded and I really felt okay, I still goofed off and napped constantly. I didn’t even get my laundry done over the weekend
All this makes me feel like a big fraud. A while back I wrote about the need to teach our students to get the job done, even when there’s a significant obstacle. And one thing I’ve always taken pride in is practicing what I preach. So why the heck did I fall down on the job this time around? I’m just feeling a little tired from this illness, just a little run down, not like there’s some unmovable mountain between me and what I need to get done.
I don’t have any real answers, except for maybe that I’m not finding this tutoring work as enthralling and consuming as I did classroom teaching. No excuse, I know, but I can’t think of much else.
Maybe one of the great things about classroom teaching is that at any given moment there are twenty-odd chances to engage someone. Tutoring one on one with kids that really don’t want to cooperate and are absolutely unenthusiastic about learning doesn’t give you this opportunity nearly as much. That engagement comes more rarely, and the moments are fleeting. It’s hard to keep your energy level up when you’ve got a kid that will rarely do more than shrug at you when asked a question. Those moments of engagement in the classroom always gave me goose bumps, and were a big part of the reason I was able to push through those tough days in the classroom.
It’s 2 PM now, and like many days I can’t think about much but getting home to take a nap.
Greatness is getting the job done when it’s hard work. This doesn’t feel like greatness.
For the first time in quite a while, I took time off of work because I was actually sick. I’ve used sick days before, but rarely because of anything worse than a lack of sleep or need for a “mental health day.” There was plenty of work to get done while I was home, but I did little besides nap, read, and watch TV. Even after the fever faded and I really felt okay, I still goofed off and napped constantly. I didn’t even get my laundry done over the weekend
All this makes me feel like a big fraud. A while back I wrote about the need to teach our students to get the job done, even when there’s a significant obstacle. And one thing I’ve always taken pride in is practicing what I preach. So why the heck did I fall down on the job this time around? I’m just feeling a little tired from this illness, just a little run down, not like there’s some unmovable mountain between me and what I need to get done.
I don’t have any real answers, except for maybe that I’m not finding this tutoring work as enthralling and consuming as I did classroom teaching. No excuse, I know, but I can’t think of much else.
Maybe one of the great things about classroom teaching is that at any given moment there are twenty-odd chances to engage someone. Tutoring one on one with kids that really don’t want to cooperate and are absolutely unenthusiastic about learning doesn’t give you this opportunity nearly as much. That engagement comes more rarely, and the moments are fleeting. It’s hard to keep your energy level up when you’ve got a kid that will rarely do more than shrug at you when asked a question. Those moments of engagement in the classroom always gave me goose bumps, and were a big part of the reason I was able to push through those tough days in the classroom.
It’s 2 PM now, and like many days I can’t think about much but getting home to take a nap.
Greatness is getting the job done when it’s hard work. This doesn’t feel like greatness.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
The new batch
Luckily for me (and the mortgage company!) I am staying really busy. I've been keeping my schedule full with 4 kids. Each gets two hours of my time every day, so I'm working 40 hours every week. Working feels good. Paying the bills feels good too.
The two boys I had before are still with me, and with no standardized tests on the horizon we've been able to relax a little more and get work done without much stress. The lazy one is a funny kid, and has the potential to be a good writer. Unfortunately, he seems to want me to tell him that his writing is already great and doesn't want to work on the writing to make it great. Even for an 11th grader, his writing is not remarkable, but the leap from average to outstanding won't be a hard one for him if he wants to make it. The biggest challenge is that he's decided that he wants to write love poems about a girl he's too shy to talk to. Shaky ground here, for sure. Even though I studied poetry in college, I always avoided reading and writing love poems (much to the disappointment of all my girlfriends). So if any of you have some sugestions for some really good 20th century love poems for us to read and use as a stepping stone for him, I'd sure appreciate it.
I don't know quite what to say about the other boy. He will never do what's asked of him. Give him a complex task and he'll get it half done and complain about how much he can't handle it. Make the complex task a series of simple tasks given one at a time and he'll still only get half of it done. This is the one that may have a learning disability. I did a lot of leg work with his counselor and the school psychologist to get him set up for testing, and his mom won't make the call to start the process. She just needs to call the psychologist and he'll start the testing process, but she won't do it. This is the same woman who told me that she begged before to get the testing done, and even offered to have it done without school resources on her own nickel. I'm at a loss with this one. It's pretty clear to all involved that Mom's a bigger part of the problem than a possible solution, and we may just be stuck with that.
The other boy I have is an 11th grader who was kicked out of school for fighting too much. People in the school who don't know him well tell me he's a gang banger, but his teacher didn't think so. He wears the clothes, but so do a lot of kids who aren't in gangs. And so do a lot of kids that get in fights.
I don't want to over-generalize or stereotype too much, but the constant fighting and conflict seem to be products of the blue-collar culture that pervades this school. There's an awful lot of kids (and their parents) who have an attitude of "I don't have to take shit from anybody." I know a lot of their parents have that attitude, I hear them talk about their bosses, their neighbors, the jerk at the grocery store, etc. I don't think they realize that displaying this attitude translates to their kids applying the same attitude towards their teachers and other students. A lot of them have a hair-trigger temper and are more afraid of looking weak than a beating, so they're ready to fight at the drop of a hat. That's what this kid's like. He's always great with me, but I can sense it when he gets frustrated with his school work. He starts getting tense and ready to snap. I won't let him snap, and I won't let him give up, either. I don't think it's something he's used to. He seems to be in the habit of walking away from things that frustrate them. He won't be with me for the whole year, the school is trying to find him a slot at one of the local schools for troubled boys, so in the couple of weeks he may find himself in a better situation. If nothing else, I think keeping him busy all day would be good for him.
My newest student is a freshman girl. Her older brother was in my class while student teaching, and his special ed. teacher told me that his parents have been selling crack out of the house. (The story is that they've had Child Protective Services in there a couple of times in the last year or so, but never found a situation so harmful that it warranted removing the kids from the home. I'm not sure they have any place better to go, other than foster care, which may not be helpful.)
Some students get tutored in the home, most get tutored in the town library or some other place. I refused to go into this family's home, and her mom raised holy hell with the school because they didn't want the kid to have to walk so far, using the excuses that it's cold and there may be convicted rapists living in the motel across the street. I see her at the Burger King 1/4 mile from their house. The girl walks to downtown Albany to see her friends (a good 5 mile walk), but somehow Mom thinks the 1/4 mile walk to meet me is too unsafe.
I think that the next parent I hear complain that the teachers or the school is the problem is going to regret voicing their opinion to me.
The two boys I had before are still with me, and with no standardized tests on the horizon we've been able to relax a little more and get work done without much stress. The lazy one is a funny kid, and has the potential to be a good writer. Unfortunately, he seems to want me to tell him that his writing is already great and doesn't want to work on the writing to make it great. Even for an 11th grader, his writing is not remarkable, but the leap from average to outstanding won't be a hard one for him if he wants to make it. The biggest challenge is that he's decided that he wants to write love poems about a girl he's too shy to talk to. Shaky ground here, for sure. Even though I studied poetry in college, I always avoided reading and writing love poems (much to the disappointment of all my girlfriends). So if any of you have some sugestions for some really good 20th century love poems for us to read and use as a stepping stone for him, I'd sure appreciate it.
I don't know quite what to say about the other boy. He will never do what's asked of him. Give him a complex task and he'll get it half done and complain about how much he can't handle it. Make the complex task a series of simple tasks given one at a time and he'll still only get half of it done. This is the one that may have a learning disability. I did a lot of leg work with his counselor and the school psychologist to get him set up for testing, and his mom won't make the call to start the process. She just needs to call the psychologist and he'll start the testing process, but she won't do it. This is the same woman who told me that she begged before to get the testing done, and even offered to have it done without school resources on her own nickel. I'm at a loss with this one. It's pretty clear to all involved that Mom's a bigger part of the problem than a possible solution, and we may just be stuck with that.
The other boy I have is an 11th grader who was kicked out of school for fighting too much. People in the school who don't know him well tell me he's a gang banger, but his teacher didn't think so. He wears the clothes, but so do a lot of kids who aren't in gangs. And so do a lot of kids that get in fights.
I don't want to over-generalize or stereotype too much, but the constant fighting and conflict seem to be products of the blue-collar culture that pervades this school. There's an awful lot of kids (and their parents) who have an attitude of "I don't have to take shit from anybody." I know a lot of their parents have that attitude, I hear them talk about their bosses, their neighbors, the jerk at the grocery store, etc. I don't think they realize that displaying this attitude translates to their kids applying the same attitude towards their teachers and other students. A lot of them have a hair-trigger temper and are more afraid of looking weak than a beating, so they're ready to fight at the drop of a hat. That's what this kid's like. He's always great with me, but I can sense it when he gets frustrated with his school work. He starts getting tense and ready to snap. I won't let him snap, and I won't let him give up, either. I don't think it's something he's used to. He seems to be in the habit of walking away from things that frustrate them. He won't be with me for the whole year, the school is trying to find him a slot at one of the local schools for troubled boys, so in the couple of weeks he may find himself in a better situation. If nothing else, I think keeping him busy all day would be good for him.
My newest student is a freshman girl. Her older brother was in my class while student teaching, and his special ed. teacher told me that his parents have been selling crack out of the house. (The story is that they've had Child Protective Services in there a couple of times in the last year or so, but never found a situation so harmful that it warranted removing the kids from the home. I'm not sure they have any place better to go, other than foster care, which may not be helpful.)
Some students get tutored in the home, most get tutored in the town library or some other place. I refused to go into this family's home, and her mom raised holy hell with the school because they didn't want the kid to have to walk so far, using the excuses that it's cold and there may be convicted rapists living in the motel across the street. I see her at the Burger King 1/4 mile from their house. The girl walks to downtown Albany to see her friends (a good 5 mile walk), but somehow Mom thinks the 1/4 mile walk to meet me is too unsafe.
I think that the next parent I hear complain that the teachers or the school is the problem is going to regret voicing their opinion to me.
It's been a while
A lot of time has passed since my last posting. I'm not even going to check the date on the last post, it's been an embarrassingly long time. I'd wanted to post something useful for the spring's batch of student teachers since I knew at least a few would be reading, but I think that time has passed. Most have probably discovered whatever I could have said for themselves already.
I returned from the park with the dog this morning to find that someone had sent a reply, and that's what it took to finally make me sit down and write again. So thank you, whoever you were.
There was never a problem of procrastination, or having nothing to write. The problem was the exact opposite; there's been so much to write that I couldn't decide where to start. The fact that when I'm overwhelmed with too many choices I often fail to start probably says a lot about my personality. Probably not anything particularly good, either, I'll have to reflect on that more another time.
For those that have been reading frequently, I'd like to get you caught up. In mid-January I was preparing 3 students for the NY state regents exams. For those of you that don't know, the regents exams are a ridiculous set of standardized exams for every major subject area, spread out over 4 years. The "standard" diploma kids get in NY now is a regents diploma, which means they're supposed to be ready to go on to college. Without passing these tests, kids can get a local diploma, which is about half a step up from a GED. I'll probably write more about these tests later, but for now I'll just say that the only thing I think they're effective at is spending a lot of taxpayer money, eating up school days, and crippling effective classroom education. I haven't seen any evidence that they do anything useful for the curriculum, and I'm quite sure that they're anything but standardized across the state.
So, the scorecard after the regents tests: The girl passed all but one of her tests. Considering the amount of work she had to get done, I think she did amazingly well. I think she bombed one on purpose, knowing that she'd be very lucky to pass. Apparently she showed up to the test 1/2 an hour late, started distracting other students on purpose, and then had an argument with the teacher. Since students put their names on their exams and the exam is graded by the teacher, I'm not convinced that the teacher didn't fail her on purpose. The good news is that the girl decided not to drop out, and the principal offered a deal so that she'd come to school just 4 hours a week to prepare for that last test. The bad news is that she's very good at telling adults what they want to hear to get of out a situation and I'm not convinced that she'll hold up her end of the bargain. The other bad news is that the teacher she's working with has no love for her and believes strongly that the girl can't pass anyway. You can't save them all, I guess, but I'm keeping a good thought that she'll pull through this.
The boy that had convinced me that he would fail managed to pass all of his exams. I have no idea how; he refused to do his homework and we'd only managed to get halfway through the material for the Global History exam. But he passed, and that's what's important.
The other boy passed, and I knew he would. The weird thing is that he got lousy scores on the tests, but when doing review work he knew the material. This turns out to be somewhat typical for him, though. We've been catching up on a lot of math work, and he always picks up on the concepts quickly and easily. He'll do any number of review problems correctly. I even do review with him for 15 or 20 minutes before giving him a test. But then he'll make mistakes on the test on concepts he explained to me just a few minutes before. It's frustrating, for sure.
It could be simply because the kid is so lazy. He's even too lazy to figure out a simple way to do things. Last week I told him to do the odd numbered math problems on a particular page, figuring that half of the exercises were more than enough for him. He proceeded to do all of the problems and when I asked why he said "I didn't feel like thinking hard enough to skip the even ones."
You figure it out, it's beyond me right now.
I returned from the park with the dog this morning to find that someone had sent a reply, and that's what it took to finally make me sit down and write again. So thank you, whoever you were.
There was never a problem of procrastination, or having nothing to write. The problem was the exact opposite; there's been so much to write that I couldn't decide where to start. The fact that when I'm overwhelmed with too many choices I often fail to start probably says a lot about my personality. Probably not anything particularly good, either, I'll have to reflect on that more another time.
For those that have been reading frequently, I'd like to get you caught up. In mid-January I was preparing 3 students for the NY state regents exams. For those of you that don't know, the regents exams are a ridiculous set of standardized exams for every major subject area, spread out over 4 years. The "standard" diploma kids get in NY now is a regents diploma, which means they're supposed to be ready to go on to college. Without passing these tests, kids can get a local diploma, which is about half a step up from a GED. I'll probably write more about these tests later, but for now I'll just say that the only thing I think they're effective at is spending a lot of taxpayer money, eating up school days, and crippling effective classroom education. I haven't seen any evidence that they do anything useful for the curriculum, and I'm quite sure that they're anything but standardized across the state.
So, the scorecard after the regents tests: The girl passed all but one of her tests. Considering the amount of work she had to get done, I think she did amazingly well. I think she bombed one on purpose, knowing that she'd be very lucky to pass. Apparently she showed up to the test 1/2 an hour late, started distracting other students on purpose, and then had an argument with the teacher. Since students put their names on their exams and the exam is graded by the teacher, I'm not convinced that the teacher didn't fail her on purpose. The good news is that the girl decided not to drop out, and the principal offered a deal so that she'd come to school just 4 hours a week to prepare for that last test. The bad news is that she's very good at telling adults what they want to hear to get of out a situation and I'm not convinced that she'll hold up her end of the bargain. The other bad news is that the teacher she's working with has no love for her and believes strongly that the girl can't pass anyway. You can't save them all, I guess, but I'm keeping a good thought that she'll pull through this.
The boy that had convinced me that he would fail managed to pass all of his exams. I have no idea how; he refused to do his homework and we'd only managed to get halfway through the material for the Global History exam. But he passed, and that's what's important.
The other boy passed, and I knew he would. The weird thing is that he got lousy scores on the tests, but when doing review work he knew the material. This turns out to be somewhat typical for him, though. We've been catching up on a lot of math work, and he always picks up on the concepts quickly and easily. He'll do any number of review problems correctly. I even do review with him for 15 or 20 minutes before giving him a test. But then he'll make mistakes on the test on concepts he explained to me just a few minutes before. It's frustrating, for sure.
It could be simply because the kid is so lazy. He's even too lazy to figure out a simple way to do things. Last week I told him to do the odd numbered math problems on a particular page, figuring that half of the exercises were more than enough for him. He proceeded to do all of the problems and when I asked why he said "I didn't feel like thinking hard enough to skip the even ones."
You figure it out, it's beyond me right now.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
More of the Good, the Bad, & the Ugly
I have to say that I am incredibly lucky. The district where I completed student teaching offers excellent student services, and just two weeks after graduating I am working nearly full-time as a tutor through the district. The job market for English teachers is tight right now, so the tutoring gig is a welcome life raft.
The pay is almost what I'd be making as a first-year teacher and I'm working one-on-one with students. It's not permanent and there's no benefits, but it means that I can pay the bills and even afford to go out on a date once in a while.
For better or worse, the district offers tutoring to any student who misses 3 days or more, for almost any reason. I have 3 students now, two of which were expelled for the year and the third is at risk of dropping out. The goal with her is simple: tutor her enough that she can get passing grades in 4 classes to earn enough credits to graduate a semester early, and train her well enough to pass the NY state regents exams. She was ready to give up and drop out 6 weeks ago, this is the school's last recourse to save her from herself.
I'm not convinced that this is the best thing to do for these kids, and sometimes it feels like a scam. One of the kids blew off all of his schoolwork, and had two and a half weeks to get ready for the regents tests when I first met him. He's only got two: Global History and English. I'm confident that he'll pass the English test, but he blew off all his Global studies and will only do half the homework I assign him. Three days before the test he's only half way through the book. I don't think he has a chance in hell of passing. His parents don't seem to be able to keep on him, either. Mom says that she's making sure that he gets his work done, but I don't see her making any effort, either. If I were in charge of the tutoring budget, I'd tell Mom to waste her own money on a tutor. Fortunately for me, I'm not in charge and still have a job.
The worst part is that this kid may have a learning disability. I've seen signs of a reading problem with him, and he definitely shows all of the avoidance behaviors that kids use to mask disabilities. Mom gave me some convoluted story about the district refusing to have him evaluated and telling her that she couldn't have him evaluated independantly, which turns out to be total horseshit. Every kid in New York has a right to be evaluated if requested by a teacher or parent. So today's task was to talk to his guidance counselor to get the ball rolling.
The kid's a junior now and has been barely squeaking by since 8th grade. Somewhere there is an explanation of why in two weeks I've been able to get the kid on the track for testing, but in the previous 3 years nothing happened.
Celebrate your victories. 2 out of my 3 at risk students are going to pass.
The pay is almost what I'd be making as a first-year teacher and I'm working one-on-one with students. It's not permanent and there's no benefits, but it means that I can pay the bills and even afford to go out on a date once in a while.
For better or worse, the district offers tutoring to any student who misses 3 days or more, for almost any reason. I have 3 students now, two of which were expelled for the year and the third is at risk of dropping out. The goal with her is simple: tutor her enough that she can get passing grades in 4 classes to earn enough credits to graduate a semester early, and train her well enough to pass the NY state regents exams. She was ready to give up and drop out 6 weeks ago, this is the school's last recourse to save her from herself.
I'm not convinced that this is the best thing to do for these kids, and sometimes it feels like a scam. One of the kids blew off all of his schoolwork, and had two and a half weeks to get ready for the regents tests when I first met him. He's only got two: Global History and English. I'm confident that he'll pass the English test, but he blew off all his Global studies and will only do half the homework I assign him. Three days before the test he's only half way through the book. I don't think he has a chance in hell of passing. His parents don't seem to be able to keep on him, either. Mom says that she's making sure that he gets his work done, but I don't see her making any effort, either. If I were in charge of the tutoring budget, I'd tell Mom to waste her own money on a tutor. Fortunately for me, I'm not in charge and still have a job.
The worst part is that this kid may have a learning disability. I've seen signs of a reading problem with him, and he definitely shows all of the avoidance behaviors that kids use to mask disabilities. Mom gave me some convoluted story about the district refusing to have him evaluated and telling her that she couldn't have him evaluated independantly, which turns out to be total horseshit. Every kid in New York has a right to be evaluated if requested by a teacher or parent. So today's task was to talk to his guidance counselor to get the ball rolling.
The kid's a junior now and has been barely squeaking by since 8th grade. Somewhere there is an explanation of why in two weeks I've been able to get the kid on the track for testing, but in the previous 3 years nothing happened.
Celebrate your victories. 2 out of my 3 at risk students are going to pass.
Graduation!
It is absolutely official. I have successfully jumped through all of the required hoops to graduate. If I hadn't been so lazy about paperwork, they would have confirmed this in time for me to walk with the rest of the December graduates. The only thing that's standing between me and permany NY state teacher certification is more paperwork and fifty bucks (both of which I have and will be sent off shortly). There won't be much of a party, but congratulatory gifts, cards, and marriage proposals are all welcome. (If you know a sugar mama with enough cash to pay off my student loans, send her my way. I'm a good listener, give good massages, and am very handy around the house.)
This is the time for me to thank everyone that has been reading, and especially those that have made comments to me in person, backchannel, or posted comments to this blog. I found that I have fans in places I never expected and compatriots I never knew about, and the good words from everyone were incredibly motivating, particularly in the last few weeks of the semester when it felt like I was treading water more than growing or learning.
Student teaching is done, and as much as I'd like to breathe a huge sigh of relief, relax, and celebrate the fact that I finally finished, this is really the beginning. It seemed only appropriate that I changed the title of the blog to "Diary of a New Teacher." I'm still running headlong, full steam into whatever comes at me. Like always.
This is the time for me to thank everyone that has been reading, and especially those that have made comments to me in person, backchannel, or posted comments to this blog. I found that I have fans in places I never expected and compatriots I never knew about, and the good words from everyone were incredibly motivating, particularly in the last few weeks of the semester when it felt like I was treading water more than growing or learning.
Student teaching is done, and as much as I'd like to breathe a huge sigh of relief, relax, and celebrate the fact that I finally finished, this is really the beginning. It seemed only appropriate that I changed the title of the blog to "Diary of a New Teacher." I'm still running headlong, full steam into whatever comes at me. Like always.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
T-shirts
I've always loved t-shirts with good messages, so I decided to use the magic of the internet to create a series of t-shirts. Here's the first one, click on it to go to the online store. I'm not in it for the money, so there's no markup. You pay the minimum price that CafePress will let me charge. The black t-shirts are kind of pricey, but there is an white t-shirt made specifically to fit into a teacher's budget.Want to see something particular on a shirt? If it's motivating, thought provoking, or really funny I'll make it.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Creating people that must be controlled
Today Mrs. Teacher2 told me that I need to start collecting and grading the notes my students are supposed to write while they're reading.
Umm... N.F.W.
(For the unitiated, the N stands for "No," the W stands for "Way." You can do the math from there.)
It seems that her students don't do any work unless they know it's going to be graded. I can't think of a better way to make more unnecessary work for me, to tell the truth. The quizzes I'm giving them on the reading in this unit are open-note, but not open-book. I'll know how good their notes are from their quiz scores. I've modeled the notes they should take, I make sure to point out important information they need to write down while we read in class, we've reviewed them together, and I think they have plenty of instruction on what constitutes good note-taking.
But she's right, in a way. Because she's created an atmosphere in her class in which she indicates what's important by the grade assigned, she's trained her students not to do anything they're not specifically told to do, and not to do anything that doesn't get them immediate credit. One of the other classes failed to take any notes at all until we started writing things on the chalkboard for them, then they copied verbatim. No thinking, little learning, lots of writing.
I don't think she realizes that she's also creating a population of people that will always do the absolute minimum required, and will always be lost for a way to start an assignment until someone shows them how to do it.
I don't know about you, but I for damned sure don't want to hire anyone for my business that's been trained like this. Not sure I'd want my kid marrying someone that just did the bare minimum, either.
She also said that while they're taking a quiz (even an open-note quiz) I need to be standing up and circulating through the room to make sure that they're not cheating. She says that they can be very sneaky and ingenious about trying to cheat if they want to. I suspect that's true, particularly if you create a system of oversight that makes them work incredibly hard to sneak anything by. Necessity is the mother of invention. Maybe if they don't have to work so hard at sneaking anything by me, they'll be sloppy and easier to catch trying to cheat. I'm not really concerned about it in any case. I trust my students, and the ones that don't know the information tend to throw in the towel pretty easily (remember that bit about doing the bare minimum?), and I can't imagine many of them putting in enough effort to cheat.
Umm... N.F.W.
(For the unitiated, the N stands for "No," the W stands for "Way." You can do the math from there.)
It seems that her students don't do any work unless they know it's going to be graded. I can't think of a better way to make more unnecessary work for me, to tell the truth. The quizzes I'm giving them on the reading in this unit are open-note, but not open-book. I'll know how good their notes are from their quiz scores. I've modeled the notes they should take, I make sure to point out important information they need to write down while we read in class, we've reviewed them together, and I think they have plenty of instruction on what constitutes good note-taking.
But she's right, in a way. Because she's created an atmosphere in her class in which she indicates what's important by the grade assigned, she's trained her students not to do anything they're not specifically told to do, and not to do anything that doesn't get them immediate credit. One of the other classes failed to take any notes at all until we started writing things on the chalkboard for them, then they copied verbatim. No thinking, little learning, lots of writing.
I don't think she realizes that she's also creating a population of people that will always do the absolute minimum required, and will always be lost for a way to start an assignment until someone shows them how to do it.
I don't know about you, but I for damned sure don't want to hire anyone for my business that's been trained like this. Not sure I'd want my kid marrying someone that just did the bare minimum, either.
She also said that while they're taking a quiz (even an open-note quiz) I need to be standing up and circulating through the room to make sure that they're not cheating. She says that they can be very sneaky and ingenious about trying to cheat if they want to. I suspect that's true, particularly if you create a system of oversight that makes them work incredibly hard to sneak anything by. Necessity is the mother of invention. Maybe if they don't have to work so hard at sneaking anything by me, they'll be sloppy and easier to catch trying to cheat. I'm not really concerned about it in any case. I trust my students, and the ones that don't know the information tend to throw in the towel pretty easily (remember that bit about doing the bare minimum?), and I can't imagine many of them putting in enough effort to cheat.
This post is not about my dog dying
I had to let my dog die last weekend. (she's the one on the right.) I miss her, but she's not what this post is about.
Monday morning one of my students complained that she didn't have time to finish reading the novel because she had to do the family thing over Thanksgiving weekend and also had to work. The novel is really written at an 8th grade level, so I don't think there's any excuse for a 10th grader to skip 30 pages of light reading over a 4-day weekend. She wasn't the only one that hadn't finished the reading, but it surprised me because she's a good student and she knew we have a test coming up at the end of the week.
In all honesty, I didn't accomplish quite as much as I should have over the weekend, either. And I felt that I had no excuse. Dixie's death shook me up a little bit, but not enough that I had any excuse not to get my work done. This is the lesson we need to drive home to our students.
Everyone faces personal conflict on a regular basis. Those that are successful manage their lives and their work so that neither is a burden on the other.
Monday morning one of my students complained that she didn't have time to finish reading the novel because she had to do the family thing over Thanksgiving weekend and also had to work. The novel is really written at an 8th grade level, so I don't think there's any excuse for a 10th grader to skip 30 pages of light reading over a 4-day weekend. She wasn't the only one that hadn't finished the reading, but it surprised me because she's a good student and she knew we have a test coming up at the end of the week.
In all honesty, I didn't accomplish quite as much as I should have over the weekend, either. And I felt that I had no excuse. Dixie's death shook me up a little bit, but not enough that I had any excuse not to get my work done. This is the lesson we need to drive home to our students.
Everyone faces personal conflict on a regular basis. Those that are successful manage their lives and their work so that neither is a burden on the other.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
There's good reason that it was snowing when I left school today.
Right now I'm teaching only 9th and 10th grade at major suburban high school with a good reputation. Keep this in mind while you read.
In the last four days at my school...
Lynn told me that she can't read and understand, even though she tests fine. Turns out that her mother has convinced her that she's not capable and she believes it. I promised her that if she worked with me I wouldn't let her fail, but I've only got two and a half weeks left to help her.
Four fights broke out. Two were major enough that two hall monitors were injured badly.
Two kids from the street broke into the school with a knife and a beebee gun.
Jamal turned out to be a drug dealer and was suspended for threatening a teacher's life. The system's failing him and he's going to get pushed in worse directions.
Mandy identifies too closely with the main character of the book we're reading (who has an abusive father), and told me that most days she wants to run out of class crying because it hurts too much to think about.
Before that, I found out that Jason lives in a crack house, Carl was beaten so much as a kid that it created emotional problems that have caused learning disabilities, Pete is an alcoholic and has been going to AA for a couple of years, Johnny drinks and smokes pot every day (though is still one of the best kids in the class), Natalie is going through some heavy stuff at home that she won't share, but it's obviously affecting her deeply... and these are just the ones I know about.
If not me, who?
In the last four days at my school...
Lynn told me that she can't read and understand, even though she tests fine. Turns out that her mother has convinced her that she's not capable and she believes it. I promised her that if she worked with me I wouldn't let her fail, but I've only got two and a half weeks left to help her.
Four fights broke out. Two were major enough that two hall monitors were injured badly.
Two kids from the street broke into the school with a knife and a beebee gun.
Jamal turned out to be a drug dealer and was suspended for threatening a teacher's life. The system's failing him and he's going to get pushed in worse directions.
Mandy identifies too closely with the main character of the book we're reading (who has an abusive father), and told me that most days she wants to run out of class crying because it hurts too much to think about.
Before that, I found out that Jason lives in a crack house, Carl was beaten so much as a kid that it created emotional problems that have caused learning disabilities, Pete is an alcoholic and has been going to AA for a couple of years, Johnny drinks and smokes pot every day (though is still one of the best kids in the class), Natalie is going through some heavy stuff at home that she won't share, but it's obviously affecting her deeply... and these are just the ones I know about.
If not me, who?
Monday, November 14, 2005
Small successes
A week or so back I wrote about how I was disappointed in myself for not feeling a sense of accomplishment by helping my students who struggle the most. I've always put myself on the side of the underdog, so this really surprised me. Maybe I just needed to be a little more patient with things, because my experiences with the struggling students in the past week have made me feel a little different. I've made breakthroughs, no matter how slight, with a few students in the past week and it really feels good.
Maybe I needed to realign my expectations, too. Any improvement in a kid's skills or attitude should be celebrated, but I'd let myself get in the rut that Mrs. Teacher 2 is in where anything less than an A is noteworthy only to judge how much a kid is failing. Most of these kids aren't going to get As. Most of them barely attend school enough to pass. One of the kids I'm thinking of felt so alienated during my first lesson that he tuned out completely and ditched class the next day, but now comes to class and jokes with me.
I'm not changing this kid's life forever, but if I can get him on a pattern of finding small successes for the next month maybe he'll be able to keep it up after I leave.
Maybe I needed to realign my expectations, too. Any improvement in a kid's skills or attitude should be celebrated, but I'd let myself get in the rut that Mrs. Teacher 2 is in where anything less than an A is noteworthy only to judge how much a kid is failing. Most of these kids aren't going to get As. Most of them barely attend school enough to pass. One of the kids I'm thinking of felt so alienated during my first lesson that he tuned out completely and ditched class the next day, but now comes to class and jokes with me.
I'm not changing this kid's life forever, but if I can get him on a pattern of finding small successes for the next month maybe he'll be able to keep it up after I leave.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
From the notebook
One of the things we forget easily in the digital age is that the physical act of writing is closely tied to memory. Write it down and you're likely to remember it and let it sink into your mind and your heart. Before I started teaching this fall I started a notebook to write some of these things down in. There are things I'd learned while teaching, things I'd learned from teachers, things I learned about myself and about others. Here are some of the highlights.
Focus on developing strategies; both developing strategies as a teacher and inhelping students develop strategies for themselves.
What people hear is sometimes more important that what you say.
Find ways to celebrate students' achievement without extrinsic rewards.
The broken record technique: If you catch a student misbehaving, repeat the rule until they relent. i.e. "In this class we do not interrupt others while their speaking." Repeat every time they argue. Do not accuse them of anything, this just opens up something new to argue about.
Use the things that students do best to help them learn what they need the most.
Emphasize the knowledge and skills that students already have rather than focusing on what they don't know.
Grading papers is hard work. Be sure that any assignment you give the students is also worth the effort you need to grade it.
We tend to equate silent, obedient kids with good learners, but the opposite is probably true. Active learning creates energy, and lots of it. Energy creates sound, heat, and motion.
Be positive. Try hard.
If a large portion of a class scores poorly, it shows that the teacher is not meeting the needs of the students, regardless of how other classes performed or how well the methods used worked before.
Students must be able to see themselves in the curriculum in order for it to be relevant and meaningful to them.
Showing a movie at the end of a book unit probably doesn't have much value. Showing it at the begining can help front-load the reading and give it more context, and showing scenes interspersed with the reading can help increase understanding.
Find a way to keep the morning classes awake. (If anyone figures this one out, please let me know!)
Focus on developing strategies; both developing strategies as a teacher and inhelping students develop strategies for themselves.
What people hear is sometimes more important that what you say.
Find ways to celebrate students' achievement without extrinsic rewards.
The broken record technique: If you catch a student misbehaving, repeat the rule until they relent. i.e. "In this class we do not interrupt others while their speaking." Repeat every time they argue. Do not accuse them of anything, this just opens up something new to argue about.
Use the things that students do best to help them learn what they need the most.
Emphasize the knowledge and skills that students already have rather than focusing on what they don't know.
Grading papers is hard work. Be sure that any assignment you give the students is also worth the effort you need to grade it.
We tend to equate silent, obedient kids with good learners, but the opposite is probably true. Active learning creates energy, and lots of it. Energy creates sound, heat, and motion.
Be positive. Try hard.
If a large portion of a class scores poorly, it shows that the teacher is not meeting the needs of the students, regardless of how other classes performed or how well the methods used worked before.
Students must be able to see themselves in the curriculum in order for it to be relevant and meaningful to them.
Showing a movie at the end of a book unit probably doesn't have much value. Showing it at the begining can help front-load the reading and give it more context, and showing scenes interspersed with the reading can help increase understanding.
Find a way to keep the morning classes awake. (If anyone figures this one out, please let me know!)
Setting priorities
A week or so ago I wrote about how hard it's been to balance student teaching with the rest of my life. Last week I finally snapped.
It's been tough to try to prioritize one thing that I love over another, but I finally realized that one of the things I love is too much of a drain and does not help me recharge, so I dropped it. I'm a search and rescue volunteer and training coordinator for the Air Force Auxiliary. Well, I was. That's been a role that defined me as a person, helped me grow as a leader, and provided great friends, but I had to give it up, at least for a while.
It was a painful decision to make. How do you tell a group of people that have been relying on you that you can't do the job for them anymore? I hated doing it, but in the time since I decided to set my priorities more carefully I've been more relaxed at school, able to put more thought into my lessons, slept a little more, been out on a date, played my guitars for a few minutes every day...
This is something I should have done long ago.
It's been tough to try to prioritize one thing that I love over another, but I finally realized that one of the things I love is too much of a drain and does not help me recharge, so I dropped it. I'm a search and rescue volunteer and training coordinator for the Air Force Auxiliary. Well, I was. That's been a role that defined me as a person, helped me grow as a leader, and provided great friends, but I had to give it up, at least for a while.
It was a painful decision to make. How do you tell a group of people that have been relying on you that you can't do the job for them anymore? I hated doing it, but in the time since I decided to set my priorities more carefully I've been more relaxed at school, able to put more thought into my lessons, slept a little more, been out on a date, played my guitars for a few minutes every day...
This is something I should have done long ago.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
There's an energy in the room that these kids have when Mrs. Teacher 2 isn't around, and that energy transmits right into me as well. At first I thought it might have been that they think I'm softer than she is so they were more talkative and rambunctious, but I've come to believe more that it's because she bores them to death. So when they see the possibility of not sitting through English class with her, they're so excited that they can't help themselves.
Energy is going to manifest itself in the form of heat, light, sound, or motion. Kids are amazing containers of energy and can transmit it in all of these forms. As teachers, we need to be able to help them change their energy from one form to another in a way that makes our classrooms energizing places for all of us. We need to be able to reflect their light back to them and make them see their lightness themselves. We need to direct their sound in ways that it can be received. We need to turn their motion into work.
And we need to help them find energy that they can take with them after they leave our classrooms.
Energy is going to manifest itself in the form of heat, light, sound, or motion. Kids are amazing containers of energy and can transmit it in all of these forms. As teachers, we need to be able to help them change their energy from one form to another in a way that makes our classrooms energizing places for all of us. We need to be able to reflect their light back to them and make them see their lightness themselves. We need to direct their sound in ways that it can be received. We need to turn their motion into work.
And we need to help them find energy that they can take with them after they leave our classrooms.
So this is what it feels like...
During our student teaching seminar a few weeks ago we were asked a question. I don't remember exactly what the question was, something akin to "describe your teaching experience in one word," or maybe something about our philosophies of education. A lot of the answers, including mine, were focussed on the craft, how we set up our lessons, etc. Jayme's word was "joy."
This made me feel jealous and guilty all at once. We were probably a month into student teaching, and by that time I had not experienced anything I would have called joy in my classes. We'd had fun with a few lessons, there were a few lessons that I thought really kicked my students in the ass and woke them up, but nothing that made me walk away from school with a smile on my face. I'm tough to please, though, so I don't think I really expected it anyway, not until Jayme said something.
But finally, after about 12 weeks of teaching, I walked away from school with a smile in my heart. My back was sore from standing half stooped over all day and I was tired, but I finally came away from a school day feeling the same way I do after getting lost in a good Motown record for a while. (Let me humbly suggest the Temptations Gettin' Ready or Meet The Temptations. Any greatest hits disc will do you good too.)
There was nothing spectacular about today. Mrs. Teacher 2 was sick and left lesson plans for the two classes that I haven't taken over yet, and they were really pretty light lessons. My classes were continuing to do research in the library, so with them I had to just keep them on track. I was pleasantly surprised to see most of them making good headway and didn't need to give them too much guidance.
The two lessons with the other classes were about as simple as could be, and I barely had to talk besides reciting the directions if I didn't want to. But I wanted to. I haven't worked directly with them very much, so we don't know each other well, but I could tell that they were anxious to change that. How much more flattering can a group of teenagers be to an adult?
And with that kind of open gesture coming from a group of 15 year olds, how on Earth could I not return the favor and put as much energy and creativity as I had into their lesson on prepositions? What would have been a slightly cute (but still boring) lesson on prepositions with a short passage from Dr. Seuss became a shout-out-loud contest to see who could get through a tongue-twister fastest. There was no great epiphany about what it takes to enjoy my job, but for the first time I walked out from work thinking about how much fun we just had and that I can't wait to get back to them tomorrow.
This made me feel jealous and guilty all at once. We were probably a month into student teaching, and by that time I had not experienced anything I would have called joy in my classes. We'd had fun with a few lessons, there were a few lessons that I thought really kicked my students in the ass and woke them up, but nothing that made me walk away from school with a smile on my face. I'm tough to please, though, so I don't think I really expected it anyway, not until Jayme said something.
But finally, after about 12 weeks of teaching, I walked away from school with a smile in my heart. My back was sore from standing half stooped over all day and I was tired, but I finally came away from a school day feeling the same way I do after getting lost in a good Motown record for a while. (Let me humbly suggest the Temptations Gettin' Ready or Meet The Temptations. Any greatest hits disc will do you good too.)
There was nothing spectacular about today. Mrs. Teacher 2 was sick and left lesson plans for the two classes that I haven't taken over yet, and they were really pretty light lessons. My classes were continuing to do research in the library, so with them I had to just keep them on track. I was pleasantly surprised to see most of them making good headway and didn't need to give them too much guidance.
The two lessons with the other classes were about as simple as could be, and I barely had to talk besides reciting the directions if I didn't want to. But I wanted to. I haven't worked directly with them very much, so we don't know each other well, but I could tell that they were anxious to change that. How much more flattering can a group of teenagers be to an adult?
And with that kind of open gesture coming from a group of 15 year olds, how on Earth could I not return the favor and put as much energy and creativity as I had into their lesson on prepositions? What would have been a slightly cute (but still boring) lesson on prepositions with a short passage from Dr. Seuss became a shout-out-loud contest to see who could get through a tongue-twister fastest. There was no great epiphany about what it takes to enjoy my job, but for the first time I walked out from work thinking about how much fun we just had and that I can't wait to get back to them tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
...so little time...
One of the things that I love about going to the seminar class every Monday night is that I get to spend a little time with my colleagues. Student teachers are in a unique--and sometimes very tenuous--position in schools. We have to take charge but still act as a guest in another teacher's classroom; we need to experiment and find our own style of teaching, while often being supervised by cynical and unimaginative teachers; we deal with supervisors who manage to make a month's worth of observations and comments in 40 minutes... And one of the things that I hate about this class is that the little time we spend together is far too little to really know each other and communicate in the ways that make people open up to each other. We share our thoughts, but rarely do we get to the point where real emotions come out. Some of us have a lot to be frustrated about, so some nights our conversations are much more frustrating than they are cathartic. I know that there are a lot of talented educators in my class, and I suspect that some of their talent comes from the way they are able to negotiate their emotions and make their student teaching a more rewarding experience. As someone that was raised in a family of glass-half-empty people, I wish I had more opportunity to tap into that. Most weeks after class I walk with Jayme out her car (our campus is situated in the middle of some questionable neighborhoods, this is one of those if I don't do it, who will? sort of things), and am rewarded with 5 minutes of good conversation on the level that is most rewarding to me. As important as the topics we discuss in the seminar are, sometimes I feel like it would be so much more rewarding to sit down at a coffee shop with four or five other student teachers and our supervisor, sit in some of those big, goofy, mismatched chairs and couches, and just talk for a little while and relax. Lord knows I need to relax more these days...
Another frustrating thing about these classes is that I always leave with so much more to say (or write) than I have time or energy to devote to the process. Tonight I'm ahead, so we'll see how much I can really cover.
It's late now, the dogs have been taken care of, dinner made and cleaned up after, laundry done, and my writing electrons don't have the positive spin energy they had when I walked home from class tonight. My glass-is-half-empty reflex is taking over and causing me to focus on something that one of my colleagues said about his teaching. He said that he was happiest as a teacher when he reached the kids that were struggling the most. And this bothered me.
I was always one of those kids that struggled in English. So it doesn't bother me because he said it, it bothers me because this was one of the things that motivated me to become a teacher, but I just don't find myself feeling that way. I feel like I'm barely keeping up to serve the kids that are doing well, and I know with total certainty that I've already made two struggling kids at my new school feel alienated. It's hard enough to be a teacher and talk with teens sometimes without making them shut down, but now I've made them close themselves off and I don't know what I can do to get them back. My cooperating teacher has already written them off and hasn't had any constructive advice besides not to let it worry me too much.
It doesn't help that the curriculum is boring, the teacher is boring, and she has trained her classes to be boring students. Critical analysis is out right now. They can find facts in a book, but they cannot tell me what they think at any level deeper than "this book sucks." I'm not sure how to get them off of this track and onto one that's more fulfilling for all of us, and my mentor is short on advice. At this point I feel more like I should just do what it takes to get through student teaching than to work on changing the atmosphere in my classes.
This is not the way I wanted to feel about my performance midway through student teaching.
Another frustrating thing about these classes is that I always leave with so much more to say (or write) than I have time or energy to devote to the process. Tonight I'm ahead, so we'll see how much I can really cover.
It's late now, the dogs have been taken care of, dinner made and cleaned up after, laundry done, and my writing electrons don't have the positive spin energy they had when I walked home from class tonight. My glass-is-half-empty reflex is taking over and causing me to focus on something that one of my colleagues said about his teaching. He said that he was happiest as a teacher when he reached the kids that were struggling the most. And this bothered me.
I was always one of those kids that struggled in English. So it doesn't bother me because he said it, it bothers me because this was one of the things that motivated me to become a teacher, but I just don't find myself feeling that way. I feel like I'm barely keeping up to serve the kids that are doing well, and I know with total certainty that I've already made two struggling kids at my new school feel alienated. It's hard enough to be a teacher and talk with teens sometimes without making them shut down, but now I've made them close themselves off and I don't know what I can do to get them back. My cooperating teacher has already written them off and hasn't had any constructive advice besides not to let it worry me too much.
It doesn't help that the curriculum is boring, the teacher is boring, and she has trained her classes to be boring students. Critical analysis is out right now. They can find facts in a book, but they cannot tell me what they think at any level deeper than "this book sucks." I'm not sure how to get them off of this track and onto one that's more fulfilling for all of us, and my mentor is short on advice. At this point I feel more like I should just do what it takes to get through student teaching than to work on changing the atmosphere in my classes.
This is not the way I wanted to feel about my performance midway through student teaching.
Monday, October 31, 2005
If I won't do it...
One thing that you should never do if you want to have any sort of balance in your life is to become a student teacher. Everything is off-kilter: whatever youthful idealism I have left, my philosophies as an educator, my sleep, my ideas for great lessons, my social life, my sleep, my relationship with dogs and family, my sleep... Any attempt I make at putting one of these back into balance winds up throwing all the others even further off balance. I've come to grips with this and decided that everything's just going to be out of whack for a while. The worst part is that I really miss personal relationships with people and feel incredibly guilty whenever I can't spend the time I'd like with friends, or God forbid, even go out on a date. It's a shame, too, because there are a few great friends out there whose company would be incredibly energizing right now, and there's even a girl out there who seems like she has the potential to be amazing. I just hope they all have patience with me.
And I feel guilty that I started this journal and have little time to add to it. I know of at least three people that have been reading it, and now that I know there's an audience I feel guilty that I haven't been filling them in with all the good stories. There's been so much on my mind since I last posted that I had trouble deciding where to start.
So I've decided not to start. At this point there's no value in going back through the last few weeks' experiences to catch up. Instead, I feel like it's time to write about something that's been on my mind for the last few years and that has become increasingly important since I started teaching this fall. There's one question that has motivated me (through both inspiration and guilt) to get through quite a few rough spots: If not me, who?
If I'm not willing to put forth the effort to work hard to help the troubled kids in school, who will? If I'm not willing to work hard to make my classes interesting enough for students to want to be there, who will? If I'm not willing to break up a fight, who will? If I'm not willing to stand up and say "we're not doing things very well and we need to change," who will? It sure as hell ain't a lot of the teachers I've seen.
I almost didn't write about this, if for the sole reason that I hope to substitute this journal for a paper and want to get credit without making the professor feel like I'm kissing up, but the synergy I felt when Bill Washburn asked this same question in our seminar a few weeks ago made me think that this is the time to write about it.
Nearly all the problems I've encountered (and I mean anywhere, not just in schools) seem to stem from apathy or laziness. Kids are getting lost in the system because adults are unwilling to do what it takes to make them succeed. I don't believe it's because they can't do it, I believe it's because it's hard. When I was working on a new seating chart with my new cooperating teacher, she mentioned that one of the boys wasn't doing very well and that he might benefit from being placed in a group that can help him. I asked if he had a learning disability or if she thought he just wasn't doing the work and she replied that he very well might have a learning disability, but he probably hasn't been tested. I'm new, so I don't know all the procedures involved, but I asked if it's possible for a teacher who suspects a learning disability to refer the student for evaluation The answer is yes. I thought that I posed the question in such a way that it should be obvious that maybe she should refer the kid for testing if possible, but the conversation hasn't gone anywhere. I asked the question twice, and her answer the second time made it apparent that she is not going to do anything. I just met her, so I'm not going to push it yet, but if I find real signs of a disability in this kid you can bet your ass that he's going to be evaluated before I leave the school in 6 weeks.
If I don't do it, who will?
Before I close this, I want to introduce you folks to Jayme Velez. Jayme's a friend going through her student teaching trials as well. I've read some of her lesson plans, and I honestly think that I'd learn more by observing her in action than I did from experienced teachers. If I had to assemble a task force of guerrilla educators to parachute in to a troubled school armed with whatever tools and weapons we need to fight the good fight she'd be on the A team. Whenever I feel like there are insurmountable obstacles, it's people like Jayme that make me believe that there are ways to get over them.
And I feel guilty that I started this journal and have little time to add to it. I know of at least three people that have been reading it, and now that I know there's an audience I feel guilty that I haven't been filling them in with all the good stories. There's been so much on my mind since I last posted that I had trouble deciding where to start.
So I've decided not to start. At this point there's no value in going back through the last few weeks' experiences to catch up. Instead, I feel like it's time to write about something that's been on my mind for the last few years and that has become increasingly important since I started teaching this fall. There's one question that has motivated me (through both inspiration and guilt) to get through quite a few rough spots: If not me, who?
If I'm not willing to put forth the effort to work hard to help the troubled kids in school, who will? If I'm not willing to work hard to make my classes interesting enough for students to want to be there, who will? If I'm not willing to break up a fight, who will? If I'm not willing to stand up and say "we're not doing things very well and we need to change," who will? It sure as hell ain't a lot of the teachers I've seen.
I almost didn't write about this, if for the sole reason that I hope to substitute this journal for a paper and want to get credit without making the professor feel like I'm kissing up, but the synergy I felt when Bill Washburn asked this same question in our seminar a few weeks ago made me think that this is the time to write about it.
Nearly all the problems I've encountered (and I mean anywhere, not just in schools) seem to stem from apathy or laziness. Kids are getting lost in the system because adults are unwilling to do what it takes to make them succeed. I don't believe it's because they can't do it, I believe it's because it's hard. When I was working on a new seating chart with my new cooperating teacher, she mentioned that one of the boys wasn't doing very well and that he might benefit from being placed in a group that can help him. I asked if he had a learning disability or if she thought he just wasn't doing the work and she replied that he very well might have a learning disability, but he probably hasn't been tested. I'm new, so I don't know all the procedures involved, but I asked if it's possible for a teacher who suspects a learning disability to refer the student for evaluation The answer is yes. I thought that I posed the question in such a way that it should be obvious that maybe she should refer the kid for testing if possible, but the conversation hasn't gone anywhere. I asked the question twice, and her answer the second time made it apparent that she is not going to do anything. I just met her, so I'm not going to push it yet, but if I find real signs of a disability in this kid you can bet your ass that he's going to be evaluated before I leave the school in 6 weeks.
If I don't do it, who will?
Before I close this, I want to introduce you folks to Jayme Velez. Jayme's a friend going through her student teaching trials as well. I've read some of her lesson plans, and I honestly think that I'd learn more by observing her in action than I did from experienced teachers. If I had to assemble a task force of guerrilla educators to parachute in to a troubled school armed with whatever tools and weapons we need to fight the good fight she'd be on the A team. Whenever I feel like there are insurmountable obstacles, it's people like Jayme that make me believe that there are ways to get over them.
Monday, October 17, 2005
I'm a tool.
In some ways I'm a new-age kind of a guy. I had an idea of how well I'd done with the 11th grade class, but I wanted to know what they thought, so I asked them. Today's journal entry was the only one they turned in to me, without names on them. I told them I wanted their honest feedback about how the last 6 weeks have gone, what I should keep doing, what I could do to improve, etc. I promised not to read them until after I graded their last assignment, but this one was on top and one of the girls just had to show someone the last line: "P.S. Nice shoes." (I'm pretty sure that this remark was sarcastic as my shoes are nothing special.)
So I couldn't help but read the rest of it as they were on their way out. The first line was "You're a tool." They ended it by saying that I wasn't a tool and had a couple of decent comments in the middle, and I probably should have expected this. It was a tough unit of Puritan lit, some of the most boring stuff they'll read all year. I was at a loss as to how to make it interesting, engaging, or valuable, and Mrs. Teacher was no help. In fact, she laughed at me when I told her what the in-class reading was one day. "They're going to hate it," she said. I knew that already. But when I asked what she normally does for the unit I got no response. I should have expected that too. She's the kind of teacher that goes in chronological order, and this is what was next in the textbook.
So, I'm a tool. It's been cast in stone for all eternity. At least in the eyes of these 11th graders.
So I couldn't help but read the rest of it as they were on their way out. The first line was "You're a tool." They ended it by saying that I wasn't a tool and had a couple of decent comments in the middle, and I probably should have expected this. It was a tough unit of Puritan lit, some of the most boring stuff they'll read all year. I was at a loss as to how to make it interesting, engaging, or valuable, and Mrs. Teacher was no help. In fact, she laughed at me when I told her what the in-class reading was one day. "They're going to hate it," she said. I knew that already. But when I asked what she normally does for the unit I got no response. I should have expected that too. She's the kind of teacher that goes in chronological order, and this is what was next in the textbook.
So, I'm a tool. It's been cast in stone for all eternity. At least in the eyes of these 11th graders.
What do you want to do?
I started class last Tuesday by asking the 12th graders something I don't think they'd ever been asked before: "What do you guys want to do?"
I believe strongly in a student-centered classroom, although I'm fudging it a little bit since in a true student-centered class the students would help design the curriculum. We're stuck with the reading list that was chosen for us, and I admitted to them that I was out of ideas on how to make The Canterbury Tales more interesting and engaging. So I asked them "What do you guys want to do?"
It's easy to tell that they had never been asked this question before because they had given it no thought. They seemed sure that their job was to come to class, and that my job was to tell them what to do. A couple of them said that they just wanted to read the book and take a test, but that was completely out of the question. First of all, I'd feel lazy and uninteresting doing something like that to them. That's the sort of thing that made me hate English classes when I was in high school and I am not going to torture my students that way. And I didn't admit this to them, but it would also require me to read the book much more carefully to create a good test, and I was just barely keeping up with their reading and finding meaning to discuss only through the Spark Notes for the book.
After a week, they finally started to realize that choice is good, although it requires more effort on their part. I gave them two choices for their final assignment: one a creative work and the other a traditional research paper, for those that are less creative. The only complaint: the 10th grade had three choices for their final assignment.
I believe strongly in a student-centered classroom, although I'm fudging it a little bit since in a true student-centered class the students would help design the curriculum. We're stuck with the reading list that was chosen for us, and I admitted to them that I was out of ideas on how to make The Canterbury Tales more interesting and engaging. So I asked them "What do you guys want to do?"
It's easy to tell that they had never been asked this question before because they had given it no thought. They seemed sure that their job was to come to class, and that my job was to tell them what to do. A couple of them said that they just wanted to read the book and take a test, but that was completely out of the question. First of all, I'd feel lazy and uninteresting doing something like that to them. That's the sort of thing that made me hate English classes when I was in high school and I am not going to torture my students that way. And I didn't admit this to them, but it would also require me to read the book much more carefully to create a good test, and I was just barely keeping up with their reading and finding meaning to discuss only through the Spark Notes for the book.
After a week, they finally started to realize that choice is good, although it requires more effort on their part. I gave them two choices for their final assignment: one a creative work and the other a traditional research paper, for those that are less creative. The only complaint: the 10th grade had three choices for their final assignment.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
What happened to being on time?
I don't know if everyone will see the humor here that I do, but...
Second day of school, first time that the 11th grade has English this year. The teacher is nowhere to be found. I'm the student teacher and it's my third day, I still need to think twice to remember which hall leads to the library. And the teacher is nowhere to be found. Apparently she didn't think it was important as I did for her to be present for the first day of class.
Mrs. Cavanaugh is at a huge advantage because this is a small school and she taught all of these kids before, but she didn't even bother to tell me what the plan was for the first day.
This poses something of a problem for me.
I let the kids talk for about 5 minutes, then decided to close the door so that the din wouldn't disturb the other classrooms. I took a minute to stick my head in the hallway to see if Mrs. C. was out there, but saw only the empty hallway. I'm a take-charge kind of guy and decided that if Mrs. C didn't have anything for the first day then I needed to have something.
They're good kids and only had to be asked to quiet down twice so I could introduce myself. After a very quick intro I asked what they wanted to do, and one of them jokingly said that we should play "7-up." There's the plan! Twenty minutes of the first day were spent playing 7-up with 16 year olds. For those that don't know this game, the only explanation I'll give is that I first played it in 3rd grade, maybe earlier. At least it gave me a chance to start learning their names.
The only times Mrs. Cavanaugh has been here for the start of class have been the times when she was already at her desk.
Second day of school, first time that the 11th grade has English this year. The teacher is nowhere to be found. I'm the student teacher and it's my third day, I still need to think twice to remember which hall leads to the library. And the teacher is nowhere to be found. Apparently she didn't think it was important as I did for her to be present for the first day of class.
Mrs. Cavanaugh is at a huge advantage because this is a small school and she taught all of these kids before, but she didn't even bother to tell me what the plan was for the first day.
This poses something of a problem for me.
I let the kids talk for about 5 minutes, then decided to close the door so that the din wouldn't disturb the other classrooms. I took a minute to stick my head in the hallway to see if Mrs. C. was out there, but saw only the empty hallway. I'm a take-charge kind of guy and decided that if Mrs. C didn't have anything for the first day then I needed to have something.
They're good kids and only had to be asked to quiet down twice so I could introduce myself. After a very quick intro I asked what they wanted to do, and one of them jokingly said that we should play "7-up." There's the plan! Twenty minutes of the first day were spent playing 7-up with 16 year olds. For those that don't know this game, the only explanation I'll give is that I first played it in 3rd grade, maybe earlier. At least it gave me a chance to start learning their names.
The only times Mrs. Cavanaugh has been here for the start of class have been the times when she was already at her desk.
The importance of one minute
It takes only one minute to change a student's day.
It might not even take that long. Make sure that it's a positive change.
All day, every day, these kids are surrounded by people telling them what to do and that they aren't doing it well enough, and rarely telling them how to do it better. I can see it in their faces as they move through the hallways. They walk smiling with their heads held high past some teacher's rooms, then stare at their shoes passing others. The practices we try to put into place in our lesson plans to help the students grow academically are not put into practice in our hallways to help them grow in the same way.
There will always be plenty of people working in a school playing the role of the drill sergeant to get the kids in line with all of the rules. If there's a reason for everything, then the reason I'm here is to help the kids smile and be confident.
If I can do this in a minute or less, then there is no excuse for not doing it.
It might not even take that long. Make sure that it's a positive change.
All day, every day, these kids are surrounded by people telling them what to do and that they aren't doing it well enough, and rarely telling them how to do it better. I can see it in their faces as they move through the hallways. They walk smiling with their heads held high past some teacher's rooms, then stare at their shoes passing others. The practices we try to put into place in our lesson plans to help the students grow academically are not put into practice in our hallways to help them grow in the same way.
There will always be plenty of people working in a school playing the role of the drill sergeant to get the kids in line with all of the rules. If there's a reason for everything, then the reason I'm here is to help the kids smile and be confident.
If I can do this in a minute or less, then there is no excuse for not doing it.
Be positive. Try hard
"Be positive, try hard." This is my new mantra. It's amazing how effective it is, and how easily it applies to everything in my life.
This was my zen lesson for a class of freshman honors English students who, after a week and a half of class, were convinced that their teacher hated them. Mrs. Cavanaugh is not the kind of person that most students would find endearing right away. She only yells at someone she cares about, and you know that if she stops then you've really done something wrong. These kids had not yet figured out her personality, and were pretty badly shaken when she rode them pretty hard about their first quiz. I thought the scores showed decent performance from most of the class, but Mrs. Cavanaugh focused on the fact that the lowest score was in the 40s and there were no perfect scores, even though the huge majority of the scores were between 85 and 92. The kids picked up on the negative statements and took them personally, which leached all of their enthusiasm out into the ether and left no obvious way to bring them back.
The next week Mrs. Cavanaugh left early to attend a conference, which left me as the substitute for the remainder of the class. I don't teach the freshmen but I'm usually in the room while they're here and they know me, so it didn't surprise me much when they said "She hates us," almost in unison.
I knew this was coming, and I'd already realized that no one had ever explained to these kids what is really expected of honors students. So before they started their assignment for the day I tried to spend a couple of minutes explaining that Mrs. Cavanaugh didn't hate them, but that she didn't think they were performing the way honors students should and outlined what was expected for a minute or two. Deaf ears. They heard what I was trying to say as a deriding lecture. This was obvious when every one of them started quietly working. I had not delivered the motivational talk that I wanted to.
Fortunately for everyone, tomorrow is always a new day, and with young people one day is completely different than the next. When they started filing in for class the next day, I could see the trepidation in their faces. They all wanted to do well and have fun here, but none of them knew how to make this happen and it showed on nearly every one of their faces.
The five-second zen lesson : "Be positive, try hard, and you'll do well with her." I said this to every one of them was as much encouragement and authority as I could manage before Mrs. Cavanaugh came to class. It was a different class that day. You have not lived until you've seen a group of 15 ninth graders who are suddenly determined to do well, and know how to make it happen. These kids will change the world one day if we can keep the rest of their teachers from taking this away.
Be positive. Try hard.
This was my zen lesson for a class of freshman honors English students who, after a week and a half of class, were convinced that their teacher hated them. Mrs. Cavanaugh is not the kind of person that most students would find endearing right away. She only yells at someone she cares about, and you know that if she stops then you've really done something wrong. These kids had not yet figured out her personality, and were pretty badly shaken when she rode them pretty hard about their first quiz. I thought the scores showed decent performance from most of the class, but Mrs. Cavanaugh focused on the fact that the lowest score was in the 40s and there were no perfect scores, even though the huge majority of the scores were between 85 and 92. The kids picked up on the negative statements and took them personally, which leached all of their enthusiasm out into the ether and left no obvious way to bring them back.
The next week Mrs. Cavanaugh left early to attend a conference, which left me as the substitute for the remainder of the class. I don't teach the freshmen but I'm usually in the room while they're here and they know me, so it didn't surprise me much when they said "She hates us," almost in unison.
I knew this was coming, and I'd already realized that no one had ever explained to these kids what is really expected of honors students. So before they started their assignment for the day I tried to spend a couple of minutes explaining that Mrs. Cavanaugh didn't hate them, but that she didn't think they were performing the way honors students should and outlined what was expected for a minute or two. Deaf ears. They heard what I was trying to say as a deriding lecture. This was obvious when every one of them started quietly working. I had not delivered the motivational talk that I wanted to.
Fortunately for everyone, tomorrow is always a new day, and with young people one day is completely different than the next. When they started filing in for class the next day, I could see the trepidation in their faces. They all wanted to do well and have fun here, but none of them knew how to make this happen and it showed on nearly every one of their faces.
The five-second zen lesson : "Be positive, try hard, and you'll do well with her." I said this to every one of them was as much encouragement and authority as I could manage before Mrs. Cavanaugh came to class. It was a different class that day. You have not lived until you've seen a group of 15 ninth graders who are suddenly determined to do well, and know how to make it happen. These kids will change the world one day if we can keep the rest of their teachers from taking this away.
Be positive. Try hard.
Who thought it would be this much work?
There was some delusional part of me that thought I would actually have time to do things like update my blog regularly while doing this student teaching gig. Holy caffeine, Batman! On the few nights that I have enough work done by 10 PM that I feel like I can spend a little time with the dogs, with the guitars, or watching "Dukes of Hazzard" reruns, I get so excited that the elation of finally feeling like I'm no longer sinking in a sea of yet-to-be-read papers and books keeps me up anyway. I think I'm averaging about 5 1/2 hours of sleep on school nights.
I'm not complaining, not by a long shot. I love what I'm doing and learned a long time ago that nothing is ever going to be quite as perfect as I'd like, so I'm taking the good with the bad. So far the only real downside is all of the reading that I have to keep up with. I'm teaching 3 different subjects with books that I've never read before (and in fact, I've avoided reading a lot of them as much as I could until now), I'm reading for my student teaching seminar every week, and taking a Spanish class as well. Two weeks ago one of my students asked what I read for fun, and I kind of laughed. I had to quickly explain to her that English teachers have the least free-reading time of anyone, and told her how happy I was two nights before to take half an hour to read a bit of one of my aviation magazines.
One of the big things I've learned so far this semester is to realign my expectations with reality. I am not going to have as much time to spend with friends as I want for a while. I am not going to give the dogs as much attention as they need. I am not going to be playing at the open mic very much. I am not going to have as much time as I'd like to put into a relationship (should this one become an issue. I'm working on it...) A lot of sacrifice goes along with this part of my life, and this is something I'm willing to accept because the rest of this gig is so rewarding and I know it's not going to last forever.
Zen lesson of the day (and every day), given to me by Dr. Bill Washburn, who may or may not know what an incredible influence he is on my teaching: Learn to spend your energy wisely while being present in the places where you find yourself.
I'm not complaining, not by a long shot. I love what I'm doing and learned a long time ago that nothing is ever going to be quite as perfect as I'd like, so I'm taking the good with the bad. So far the only real downside is all of the reading that I have to keep up with. I'm teaching 3 different subjects with books that I've never read before (and in fact, I've avoided reading a lot of them as much as I could until now), I'm reading for my student teaching seminar every week, and taking a Spanish class as well. Two weeks ago one of my students asked what I read for fun, and I kind of laughed. I had to quickly explain to her that English teachers have the least free-reading time of anyone, and told her how happy I was two nights before to take half an hour to read a bit of one of my aviation magazines.
One of the big things I've learned so far this semester is to realign my expectations with reality. I am not going to have as much time to spend with friends as I want for a while. I am not going to give the dogs as much attention as they need. I am not going to be playing at the open mic very much. I am not going to have as much time as I'd like to put into a relationship (should this one become an issue. I'm working on it...) A lot of sacrifice goes along with this part of my life, and this is something I'm willing to accept because the rest of this gig is so rewarding and I know it's not going to last forever.
Zen lesson of the day (and every day), given to me by Dr. Bill Washburn, who may or may not know what an incredible influence he is on my teaching: Learn to spend your energy wisely while being present in the places where you find yourself.
Friday, August 26, 2005
School starts Monday...
School starts this Monday. Not only does school start, the beginning of a new phase of my life begins as well, and I'm getting a little freaked out. Now, you should know that "freaked out" for me means that I'll think about it more than twice today and that I don't know what to expect. My blood pressure and stress levels are normal, I'm not about to panic and quit before anything gets started. I'm not really a nervous person, so this is much more stress than I feel about a lot of things.
The big deal is that when school starts on Monday I'll officially be a student teacher. I've taken all of the necessary courses to learn to prepare curricula and lessons, but none of this really prepares you for the day you walk into a high school for the first time and start working with your cooperating teacher. I don't think anything can prepare you for that, really. That's the start of a very close working relationship that is completely individual to the teacher, and the only way to learn to navigate it is to jump in and start trying. Like a mouse trying to find its way through a maze. (and btw, I'll be teaching English and I know that last sentence wasn't technically a sentence. It's a style thing, learn to live with it.)
I've got a few things on my side, though. I don't actually start at the high school for another week. On Monday I start all the university stuff that goes along with student teaching, so I've got a little bit of time to get back into an academic mood. And the professor in charge of my seminar is probably the most inspiring teacher I've ever had, and there's no doubt in my mind that he's going come up with some little morsel of quasi-zen philosophy that will make any question I have make sense. He's the kind of guy that makes you feel good to be in his classroom, like he's really glad that you're there and can't wait to see you again. And I've got age on my side, too. I turned 30 at the beginning of the summer, and there will be a lot of 23-year olds doing their first student teaching too. I used to worry about being a 30 year old rookie in a profession where the majority start in their early 20s, but talking to a few experienced teachers has set my mind at ease about it. All of them said that they'd rather take a 30 year old rookie that demonstrates a lot of poise and maturity than a 23 year old with a year of experience that doesn't have that same presence.
And poise I got. The only times I ever get nervous when being put on the spot is when I don't have any sort of plan. Even if I have a rough outline of what I want to say in my head I'll be fine. Thinking back to the times when I felt incredibly nervous, everyone else around told me how calm I seemed and they were glad I was there because they were freaking out. So that's an easy problem to solve, right? All I have to do to keep from being nervous is think ahead a little bit.
The big deal is that when school starts on Monday I'll officially be a student teacher. I've taken all of the necessary courses to learn to prepare curricula and lessons, but none of this really prepares you for the day you walk into a high school for the first time and start working with your cooperating teacher. I don't think anything can prepare you for that, really. That's the start of a very close working relationship that is completely individual to the teacher, and the only way to learn to navigate it is to jump in and start trying. Like a mouse trying to find its way through a maze. (and btw, I'll be teaching English and I know that last sentence wasn't technically a sentence. It's a style thing, learn to live with it.)
I've got a few things on my side, though. I don't actually start at the high school for another week. On Monday I start all the university stuff that goes along with student teaching, so I've got a little bit of time to get back into an academic mood. And the professor in charge of my seminar is probably the most inspiring teacher I've ever had, and there's no doubt in my mind that he's going come up with some little morsel of quasi-zen philosophy that will make any question I have make sense. He's the kind of guy that makes you feel good to be in his classroom, like he's really glad that you're there and can't wait to see you again. And I've got age on my side, too. I turned 30 at the beginning of the summer, and there will be a lot of 23-year olds doing their first student teaching too. I used to worry about being a 30 year old rookie in a profession where the majority start in their early 20s, but talking to a few experienced teachers has set my mind at ease about it. All of them said that they'd rather take a 30 year old rookie that demonstrates a lot of poise and maturity than a 23 year old with a year of experience that doesn't have that same presence.
And poise I got. The only times I ever get nervous when being put on the spot is when I don't have any sort of plan. Even if I have a rough outline of what I want to say in my head I'll be fine. Thinking back to the times when I felt incredibly nervous, everyone else around told me how calm I seemed and they were glad I was there because they were freaking out. So that's an easy problem to solve, right? All I have to do to keep from being nervous is think ahead a little bit.
I'm going to approach this like I do most things: running headlong with no plans of slowing down.
It'll be good.
Welcome
First post. Never done this before. But I thought it would be good to keep a journal of some sort while I start student teaching and then transition into being a first-year teacher. Problem is that I hate writing to myself and need an audience of some sort, even if it's just one or two people.
So I promise to keep writing about what I see and what I learn if you promise to keep reading and post every once in a while to let me know that there's someone out there paying attention. If you've got anything to add, go right ahead. I'd rather see a good discussion going than to think that I'm up here on a soap box by myself.
-Eric
So I promise to keep writing about what I see and what I learn if you promise to keep reading and post every once in a while to let me know that there's someone out there paying attention. If you've got anything to add, go right ahead. I'd rather see a good discussion going than to think that I'm up here on a soap box by myself.
-Eric
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