I would like to start this post with an anecdote:
NYU currently has some of their students do about 80 hours of observation at summer schools before starting student teaching.
During “observation” many NYU students help teachers by doing tutoring or group work. I observed at LoMa (Lower Manhattan Arts Academy) a struggling school usually housed in a building on the Lower East Side. But, because of building renovations they were at a different school for the summer along with two other schools. On my first day observing one of the administrators told me that, “nobody works summer school unless they really need the money.” I was escorted to a large
classroom half filled with slumping students, mostly boys and mostly students of color. In front of the classroom was a scared looking white lady. I took a seat at the back. Most kids had Sidekicks or PSPs and were completely disregarding the lesson on vocabulary. As the class progressed, there room swelled to over fifty students, meandering in and out. Speaking to the students around me, I realized that there were 9th-12th graders, all who have failed, either English class, the English regents or both. The air-conditioning was on but the body heat pushed the temperature of the room well above eighty. I later learned that the teacher at the front was a teaching fellow, fresh out of a five-week cram session on Education, and what I had been witnessing was her first day of work. I spent the rest of the summer helping an extremely nice yoga/P.E. teacher help kids cram for the global regents, something neither of us knew anything about.
That first day was the biggest reality check ever. I also tutored some kids that summer, and realized how far below grade level most of the kids are. I think the most difficult thing for me this semester, teaching at one of the better, more organized middle schools, is the fact that these kids have so much to navigate. I know this sounds cliché, but many of my students don’t have home environments conducive to succeeding in school. I know kids who have been shot, live in shelters, and whose entire family (Mom, Dad, and two siblings) live in one room and sleep in one bed. I have many students who have pregnant siblings, and some who care for nieces, nephews, brothers and sisters. Their lives are complicated. We are constantly warned about lowering our expectations for urban kids, which I try very hard not to do. But how much is lowered expectations and how much is understanding that life is full and rich, and school is only a small modicum of life for these students.
I am just a Student teacher, and I am debating whether I want to teach in an urban setting next year. I would get paid less,
work more hours, have more students, and larger class size. Often, the administration seems more burnt out than the teachers.
At the school I’m at now, they seem to run the school more like a business with little employees than a place for growth,
experimentation, and learning,
Honestly, what I would need first and foremost to teach in an urban setting next year small class sizes, and not too many
students. Secondly, I would need to find a school that has a similar teaching philosophy to mine, that allows and expects
creative exploration. Thirdly, if I was going to teach in NYC I would want to make enough money so I could live near where I
worked, which would be fiscally impossible on today’s teaching salaries. Let me just say, I love my students. And I love the excitement and the energy that come into class with everyday. And, despite everything that I just said, I don’t know if I am willing to give that up for a job that might be a little easier. Who goes into teaching because its easy?
To the NYC Chalkboard
Thursday, December 6, 2007
what makes it so hard
I always tell people that my job is like being a doctor who has a patient come in and say "it hurts" but not being able to say where. When the doctor goes to listen to a heart beat or breathing, she discovers she has no stethoscope. All the nurses are on their lunch break all of the time, and your reference books are all out dated.
The pace of the day is so fast and the stakes are so high and no matter what program you're in, there can never be enough support. Meanwhile, as a teacher you are required to play so many roles: parent, doctor, educator, intellectual, administrator, etc. You fight more battles than those in the classroom, reaching out to parents, fighting outside influences, etc.
I am not going to take this time to discuss the values of various programs, but I will say that so far there are few alternatives to filling need for teachers. For now, these programs get bodies in the room, bodies with a lot of energy and willingness to learn, but also an awareness that it should be better. That feeling is what has made many of my colleagues leave. They know it should be better and they can do better somewhere where they don't have to fight as hard.
The pace of the day is so fast and the stakes are so high and no matter what program you're in, there can never be enough support. Meanwhile, as a teacher you are required to play so many roles: parent, doctor, educator, intellectual, administrator, etc. You fight more battles than those in the classroom, reaching out to parents, fighting outside influences, etc.
I am not going to take this time to discuss the values of various programs, but I will say that so far there are few alternatives to filling need for teachers. For now, these programs get bodies in the room, bodies with a lot of energy and willingness to learn, but also an awareness that it should be better. That feeling is what has made many of my colleagues leave. They know it should be better and they can do better somewhere where they don't have to fight as hard.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
What keeps me here
I have to start with that, with what tips the balance today, with what keeps me at Arts and Technology.
The students lead the list. (They are also, paradoxically, first on the "cons" side too.) When I thought of leaving at the end of my first year -- a visceral reaction that was going to send me as far away from here as Tanzania -- I decided to stay to teach my 10th graders in 11th, then it became 12th; now I'm staying until my next set of charges graduate in 2009. It may go on indefinitely, though for the sake of my sanity I think in one to two year increments. The students are the energy, the life force really, the motivation at the center of your practice. I don't want the abstraction of that description to deny the power that a single student can have over your day. Take "Jamaal" who I have now taught for 3 years. His 35 year old mother attempted suicide last week, one brother just returned from jail and has been missing for 5 days, his youngest brother is selling weed and was jumped over the weekend, and both antagonize him for being gay though he enforces the rules in the house. This is just the surface of his story. And what did he want from me? "I need you to be hard-ass Ms. Galazidis, not the loving one." "Teacher" only describes one part of my job, and though the sum of what I do is frightening I couldn't imagine a more valuable way to work. It's the students that keep me honest and responsible and adult; I am a better person because of them. I suppose that if my first reaction had been to name something other than students as the top reason to stay teaching at Arts and Tech I should start looking for something else.
In no particular order, the other things that bring me to work every day are: my colleagues, my inexhaustible love of literature, my vacations, my salary, and my pet projects. I can't file support for every member of the faculty, but by and large we are a hardworking and very competent bunch who are also good to hang out with. I'll skip the self-evident love of teaching reading and writing on all levels because for me it's as huge as the category of students and the two are intertwined. But the salary deserves at least a sentence. We work like mad 180 days of the year. I get up too early and haven't left school in daylight since September. I have 5 preps and 140 students. I keep track of the academic and personal progress of 31 advisees and contact their families weekly, on average. I graded for 17 hours last weekend. But I'm also going to Chicago in 2 weeks and to Italy in February, and Greece for a month to see my family when summer comes around again. That's plenty for my $56,000. Finally, last year I began the school newspaper and this year I started a chapter of the National Honor Society, and while that takes another 5-10 hours a week of supervision and organization, it's so good for the school and I'm unashamedly proud of my students and myself.
The things that make me long to work as an editor or go back to school or do ANYTHING ELSE, are the students who get under my skin because they don't ever seem to give a damn what you want to teach or that their peers want to learn in a safe environment. I had all my patience stored up when I began 3 years ago and that has eroded into a modicum of tolerance for knuckleheads who know that they could succeed (and that's a very loose term that takes shape only when applied to an individual student) but choose not to. They are the "I know Miss"s, but they so rarely break into action. Witnessing this atrophy that may or may not be accompanied by self-awareness is tragic. In an epic sense. And it is even an epidemic.
The incredible work load this year is also wearing me down too soon. Sadly, the reward for being an effective teacher is an unreal amount of work. In a small school like mine, anyone with adequate ability and some school spirit is enlisted for administrative duties in addition to whatever you have chosen to take on yourself. This is a particularly busy time of year anyway since seniors need recommendations, so really the last thing on your mind is writing the 10th grade ELA curriculum, though it's still your job, somehow.
We once suffered from an attrition rate of nearly 50%. I think that was largely because our administrative staff was new to their positions and lacked any real leadership. Part of how that filtered to us was a discouraging lack of organization. Plans would be changed and changed again even as we were bringing the students to the assembly. We had no concept of a school mission or policy and that undermined our authority and assuredness. In turn, the students were wilder -- perceptive as they are -- and took advantage of teachers who, for one reason or another, did not command their classroom the way the school itself ought to have been led. The school leaders that remain have developed and altered their reputations to some degree, and several "senior" faculty have taken leadership roles as well. As turnover slowed, our morale increased and we were galvanized to create teacher initiatives that would solve for us what the administration had not. If you do not have a proactive and ultimately positive faculty there is no ameliorant for poor leadership. And poor leadership alone is enough to drive away teachers who are both great educators and not.
Anyway, I am here and sincerely hope you will join me!
The students lead the list. (They are also, paradoxically, first on the "cons" side too.) When I thought of leaving at the end of my first year -- a visceral reaction that was going to send me as far away from here as Tanzania -- I decided to stay to teach my 10th graders in 11th, then it became 12th; now I'm staying until my next set of charges graduate in 2009. It may go on indefinitely, though for the sake of my sanity I think in one to two year increments. The students are the energy, the life force really, the motivation at the center of your practice. I don't want the abstraction of that description to deny the power that a single student can have over your day. Take "Jamaal" who I have now taught for 3 years. His 35 year old mother attempted suicide last week, one brother just returned from jail and has been missing for 5 days, his youngest brother is selling weed and was jumped over the weekend, and both antagonize him for being gay though he enforces the rules in the house. This is just the surface of his story. And what did he want from me? "I need you to be hard-ass Ms. Galazidis, not the loving one." "Teacher" only describes one part of my job, and though the sum of what I do is frightening I couldn't imagine a more valuable way to work. It's the students that keep me honest and responsible and adult; I am a better person because of them. I suppose that if my first reaction had been to name something other than students as the top reason to stay teaching at Arts and Tech I should start looking for something else.
In no particular order, the other things that bring me to work every day are: my colleagues, my inexhaustible love of literature, my vacations, my salary, and my pet projects. I can't file support for every member of the faculty, but by and large we are a hardworking and very competent bunch who are also good to hang out with. I'll skip the self-evident love of teaching reading and writing on all levels because for me it's as huge as the category of students and the two are intertwined. But the salary deserves at least a sentence. We work like mad 180 days of the year. I get up too early and haven't left school in daylight since September. I have 5 preps and 140 students. I keep track of the academic and personal progress of 31 advisees and contact their families weekly, on average. I graded for 17 hours last weekend. But I'm also going to Chicago in 2 weeks and to Italy in February, and Greece for a month to see my family when summer comes around again. That's plenty for my $56,000. Finally, last year I began the school newspaper and this year I started a chapter of the National Honor Society, and while that takes another 5-10 hours a week of supervision and organization, it's so good for the school and I'm unashamedly proud of my students and myself.
The things that make me long to work as an editor or go back to school or do ANYTHING ELSE, are the students who get under my skin because they don't ever seem to give a damn what you want to teach or that their peers want to learn in a safe environment. I had all my patience stored up when I began 3 years ago and that has eroded into a modicum of tolerance for knuckleheads who know that they could succeed (and that's a very loose term that takes shape only when applied to an individual student) but choose not to. They are the "I know Miss"s, but they so rarely break into action. Witnessing this atrophy that may or may not be accompanied by self-awareness is tragic. In an epic sense. And it is even an epidemic.
The incredible work load this year is also wearing me down too soon. Sadly, the reward for being an effective teacher is an unreal amount of work. In a small school like mine, anyone with adequate ability and some school spirit is enlisted for administrative duties in addition to whatever you have chosen to take on yourself. This is a particularly busy time of year anyway since seniors need recommendations, so really the last thing on your mind is writing the 10th grade ELA curriculum, though it's still your job, somehow.
We once suffered from an attrition rate of nearly 50%. I think that was largely because our administrative staff was new to their positions and lacked any real leadership. Part of how that filtered to us was a discouraging lack of organization. Plans would be changed and changed again even as we were bringing the students to the assembly. We had no concept of a school mission or policy and that undermined our authority and assuredness. In turn, the students were wilder -- perceptive as they are -- and took advantage of teachers who, for one reason or another, did not command their classroom the way the school itself ought to have been led. The school leaders that remain have developed and altered their reputations to some degree, and several "senior" faculty have taken leadership roles as well. As turnover slowed, our morale increased and we were galvanized to create teacher initiatives that would solve for us what the administration had not. If you do not have a proactive and ultimately positive faculty there is no ameliorant for poor leadership. And poor leadership alone is enough to drive away teachers who are both great educators and not.
Anyway, I am here and sincerely hope you will join me!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Considering teaching at Gerena
Sam has posed some pretty tough questions to us in his last email. I'll do my best to respond to them as well as I can. I'm glad to share how I'm feeling about urban teaching right now, since I wish that I'd seen and heard more about it when I was at Smith. The truth of it is that you can't ever hear enough, or see enough. You can't really be prepared for it all -- for the kids, the problems, the administration, the parents, and the multitude of other factors that make up the job.
I came to Gerena with a strong conviction of wanting to teach in an urban school. I will admit that I doubted my ability to teach there and to relate to those kids. My worries have shifted a bit now. I worry now about how to service all the students in my class appropriately. Montessori is based on giving the child what she needs, and with 1/3 of my class on IEPs, and over a third on meds for ADHD, I am not able to give them each what they need. I just can't. It took a while for me to realize that and then to admit it freely. I rarely feel like I truly cannot do something -- I've made a life out of doing things that other people were fairly sure I could not accomplish. But without the appropriate support services in the classroom and out, I just can't do what is needed for my students. So I am left with simply doing my best, and hopefully that will be good enough this year. What else worries me? The administration in the building. Trying to marry Montessori with MA frameworks and expecting teachers to adhere fully to both. Finding time for my family.
How do I feel about my decision to teach at Gerena? Well, last Thursday I had a mini breakdown, having to do with working my second job and feeling overly stressed and more tired than I've ever been in my life. As my husband and I talked about ways to problem solve my sleep deprivation, he told me that he thinks I should apply for other jobs next September, preferably in Hatfield (our hometown). This is something that I have considered, although technically my contract with Springfield is for a few years still. I think about it, sure -- gee, wouldn't it be great to work in a town that [provided chart paper, had structures set up to support students in need, where students didn't bring weapons to school in fourth grade, where you could park outside safely, etc, etc, etc]. But when my husband said that, I was reminded just how committed to Gerena I am. (I also reminded my husband of this, telling him that his support in this was of great importance to me. He has promised never to mention quitting again.) I feel very strongly that I belong at Gerena right now and it is really becoming "my" school. I was surprised one day to realize I felt that way. I am invested in these students and this transition to Montessori and my own development as a teacher. Even though I cry on the way home from school sometimes, and wish like crazy that I could just go to bed at 9 just ONCE, I am so glad I came to Gerena. It has become my life in every way, and I am currently trying to pull back a bit from that, to retain some precious time for myself. That's been part of the learning curve for me. But I am learning, and I do believe that I will be really good at this job someday. I do feel like things will continue to improve with time.
What discourages me? Knowing that kids go home to not the greatest home lives, knowing my limitations in their lives, feeling pulled in several different curricular directions (Montessori, Responsive Classroom, district standards), not having enough help, never getting a sub when I am out, the lack of communication in the school, the disorganization, the complaining, and particularly the hesitation to take responsibility for anything. I read a quote lately that I want to pass out to everyone -- teachers, admin, students, etc. It's from Maya Angelou, and reads: "If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain!"
I can imagine why people leave this job. It's so tough. It takes such a deep toll on you -- a physical one and a deep emotional one. You might leave for so many reasons. The teachers who I know are considering leaving are ones that don't believe that Montessori will work (proof positive that a cohesive vision for the school is needed). Often it's the teachers who are alone in the classroom, without a para or help of any sort. They don't feel supported or appreciated. Speaking of appreciation, no one can ever really understand how much time you put into your job. I myself feel like I can never quite leave it fully behind.
Things that encourage me, and sustain me: my Montessori mentors. I know so many teachers who would have already left if not for the amazing quality mentors at Gerena right now. Without them we all would be floundering. The students sustain me as well. How can I leave them? Finally, my faith in what is coming also sustains me, and that's something that might be specific to Gerena. I know what a normalized Montessori classroom looks and feels like, and I wish that for these Springfield kids. I believe we can get there. So it's partially that vision that sustains me as well.
This blog has also helped. Thanks to all of you for reading and sharing your thoughts and support.
I came to Gerena with a strong conviction of wanting to teach in an urban school. I will admit that I doubted my ability to teach there and to relate to those kids. My worries have shifted a bit now. I worry now about how to service all the students in my class appropriately. Montessori is based on giving the child what she needs, and with 1/3 of my class on IEPs, and over a third on meds for ADHD, I am not able to give them each what they need. I just can't. It took a while for me to realize that and then to admit it freely. I rarely feel like I truly cannot do something -- I've made a life out of doing things that other people were fairly sure I could not accomplish. But without the appropriate support services in the classroom and out, I just can't do what is needed for my students. So I am left with simply doing my best, and hopefully that will be good enough this year. What else worries me? The administration in the building. Trying to marry Montessori with MA frameworks and expecting teachers to adhere fully to both. Finding time for my family.
How do I feel about my decision to teach at Gerena? Well, last Thursday I had a mini breakdown, having to do with working my second job and feeling overly stressed and more tired than I've ever been in my life. As my husband and I talked about ways to problem solve my sleep deprivation, he told me that he thinks I should apply for other jobs next September, preferably in Hatfield (our hometown). This is something that I have considered, although technically my contract with Springfield is for a few years still. I think about it, sure -- gee, wouldn't it be great to work in a town that [provided chart paper, had structures set up to support students in need, where students didn't bring weapons to school in fourth grade, where you could park outside safely, etc, etc, etc]. But when my husband said that, I was reminded just how committed to Gerena I am. (I also reminded my husband of this, telling him that his support in this was of great importance to me. He has promised never to mention quitting again.) I feel very strongly that I belong at Gerena right now and it is really becoming "my" school. I was surprised one day to realize I felt that way. I am invested in these students and this transition to Montessori and my own development as a teacher. Even though I cry on the way home from school sometimes, and wish like crazy that I could just go to bed at 9 just ONCE, I am so glad I came to Gerena. It has become my life in every way, and I am currently trying to pull back a bit from that, to retain some precious time for myself. That's been part of the learning curve for me. But I am learning, and I do believe that I will be really good at this job someday. I do feel like things will continue to improve with time.
What discourages me? Knowing that kids go home to not the greatest home lives, knowing my limitations in their lives, feeling pulled in several different curricular directions (Montessori, Responsive Classroom, district standards), not having enough help, never getting a sub when I am out, the lack of communication in the school, the disorganization, the complaining, and particularly the hesitation to take responsibility for anything. I read a quote lately that I want to pass out to everyone -- teachers, admin, students, etc. It's from Maya Angelou, and reads: "If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain!"
I can imagine why people leave this job. It's so tough. It takes such a deep toll on you -- a physical one and a deep emotional one. You might leave for so many reasons. The teachers who I know are considering leaving are ones that don't believe that Montessori will work (proof positive that a cohesive vision for the school is needed). Often it's the teachers who are alone in the classroom, without a para or help of any sort. They don't feel supported or appreciated. Speaking of appreciation, no one can ever really understand how much time you put into your job. I myself feel like I can never quite leave it fully behind.
Things that encourage me, and sustain me: my Montessori mentors. I know so many teachers who would have already left if not for the amazing quality mentors at Gerena right now. Without them we all would be floundering. The students sustain me as well. How can I leave them? Finally, my faith in what is coming also sustains me, and that's something that might be specific to Gerena. I know what a normalized Montessori classroom looks and feels like, and I wish that for these Springfield kids. I believe we can get there. So it's partially that vision that sustains me as well.
This blog has also helped. Thanks to all of you for reading and sharing your thoughts and support.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
response to Eileen's question
So here is the question, have you told your students how badly your hands are tied? If you haven't, I think you should tell them. Then, can you ask them to help out--bring things in from home, however small they might think it is, maybe you can use what they can contribute. Have them talk to their parents and get them all charged up and 'bombard' the school boards. Strength in numbers, Cristina. Just remember that, and if you need voices, use your resources; use the kids, get them fired up to learn. They have too many restrictions on them as it is, they shouldn't be restricted to learn!
My Response:
Eileen,
Thanks so much for your strong words of encouragement! It is so nice t begin my day like this.
In response to your question, yes and no... I have told the kids that my hands are tied in certain respects and I try to be as transparent as possible without being a downer to the kids. When I do so, however, I've found that the more I try to rally the troops, the more my students feel disempowered. Something I did not fully understand - although I spoke about it as a concept all of te time - was the extent of disenfranchisement and defeat in communities of poverty, immigrants, and of color. For my students, raising your voice gets you arrested, beat up, or even deported... in their minds and the minds of their families. The climate is one of defeat and instead of taking my message as one of empowerment, usually my kids just get mad and say "You see miss, they don't give a damn about us, this school is mad cheap." I am still struggling as an educator to turn this sentiment into action, but I am fighting the influence of communities who believe "snitches get stitches" and that if they just take care of their own business they'll get through the week. My kids have yet to see how their voices can be heard. Last year, I even lost some of my own hope in my frustration over starting a student council. I never realized how much I took my position of priviledge for granted in that I was surrounded by people who got what they wanted... so I believed I could get what I wanted too. The student council floundered after a few meetings because the kids just didn't see the point... they wouldn't write the letters because it was boring and it wouldn't make a difference anyways. They wouldn't plan the bakesales because they truly believed the money wouldn't be enough for whatever they wanted to do. It was heart breaking. So, yes, I do tell my kids that my hands are tied, but no I haven't been able to empower them to make a change for themselves.
- Show quoted text -
My Response:
Eileen,
Thanks so much for your strong words of encouragement! It is so nice t begin my day like this.
In response to your question, yes and no... I have told the kids that my hands are tied in certain respects and I try to be as transparent as possible without being a downer to the kids. When I do so, however, I've found that the more I try to rally the troops, the more my students feel disempowered. Something I did not fully understand - although I spoke about it as a concept all of te time - was the extent of disenfranchisement and defeat in communities of poverty, immigrants, and of color. For my students, raising your voice gets you arrested, beat up, or even deported... in their minds and the minds of their families. The climate is one of defeat and instead of taking my message as one of empowerment, usually my kids just get mad and say "You see miss, they don't give a damn about us, this school is mad cheap." I am still struggling as an educator to turn this sentiment into action, but I am fighting the influence of communities who believe "snitches get stitches" and that if they just take care of their own business they'll get through the week. My kids have yet to see how their voices can be heard. Last year, I even lost some of my own hope in my frustration over starting a student council. I never realized how much I took my position of priviledge for granted in that I was surrounded by people who got what they wanted... so I believed I could get what I wanted too. The student council floundered after a few meetings because the kids just didn't see the point... they wouldn't write the letters because it was boring and it wouldn't make a difference anyways. They wouldn't plan the bakesales because they truly believed the money wouldn't be enough for whatever they wanted to do. It was heart breaking. So, yes, I do tell my kids that my hands are tied, but no I haven't been able to empower them to make a change for themselves.
- Show quoted text -
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
After a Day of Observation
Today I spent the day observing at the Cambridge Montessori school. It's a private school, a relatively old one, and has toddlers - junior high in two separate buildings. As part of our Montessori training, we have to observe six different schools this year. I chose Cambridge in part because I got the chance to stop by Harvard and say hi to the people I used to work with or be taught by. But wow! What a difference Cambridge is from Springfield!!
Just Tuesday, during my Mentor Meeting with Elizabeth Slade (who is truly the best mentor I ever could imagine, and is responsible for many of the teachers actually still working at Gerena), she outright told me that the truly big problems in my classroom emerge when there is only one set of hands -- mine. Whenever my para is out (and it's often, since she has a medical condition), my classroom suffers terribly. The Montessori classroom is built with the idea that two teachers will be in each class, and can accommodate about 25-30 students therefore. I only have 18, but it feels like 50, especially when compared to the 25 students I saw studiously doing their work in the Cambridge Montessori school today. I was amazed at what those students were accomplishing -- first years multiplying angles and classifying reptiles, birds, and fish. It's where we are headed, although it's going to be a painful and slow transition.
Anyhow, Elizabeth told me that I truly needed to get someone else in my classroom -- and someone unpaid, since Gerena already looks absurdly outfitted with teachers, apparently, compared to the rest of the district. On paper we should feel overstaffed. In real life, things are at the other extreme. Teacher absenteeism is so high!! The board is filled to the max each day with teachers and paraprofessionals out. I wonder what it's all about.
And then, on my way back to Springfield, I got this phone call -- my phone was actually on silent, but I happened to catch the screen change out of the corner of my eye. It was Doug Winsor, saying he had a volunteer who may want to come in for a bit of time to help out in the classroom and learn about Montessori. This gives me faith....in what? I don't know. The ability of the universe to provide for the needs of my students? I don't know if it's someone in Sam's class or not -- if so, thank you. If not, thank you anyway.
I mentioned to Sam, and I'll mention it here as well -- this blog makes me a better teacher. I am so glad to share with all of you, and your comments are spectacular to read. Although I'm rarely able to adequately respond to any or all, they make me think, they give me new perspectives, and they give me that thing that all of us need at Gerena -- the voices of people supporting us.
Thanks.
Just Tuesday, during my Mentor Meeting with Elizabeth Slade (who is truly the best mentor I ever could imagine, and is responsible for many of the teachers actually still working at Gerena), she outright told me that the truly big problems in my classroom emerge when there is only one set of hands -- mine. Whenever my para is out (and it's often, since she has a medical condition), my classroom suffers terribly. The Montessori classroom is built with the idea that two teachers will be in each class, and can accommodate about 25-30 students therefore. I only have 18, but it feels like 50, especially when compared to the 25 students I saw studiously doing their work in the Cambridge Montessori school today. I was amazed at what those students were accomplishing -- first years multiplying angles and classifying reptiles, birds, and fish. It's where we are headed, although it's going to be a painful and slow transition.
Anyhow, Elizabeth told me that I truly needed to get someone else in my classroom -- and someone unpaid, since Gerena already looks absurdly outfitted with teachers, apparently, compared to the rest of the district. On paper we should feel overstaffed. In real life, things are at the other extreme. Teacher absenteeism is so high!! The board is filled to the max each day with teachers and paraprofessionals out. I wonder what it's all about.
And then, on my way back to Springfield, I got this phone call -- my phone was actually on silent, but I happened to catch the screen change out of the corner of my eye. It was Doug Winsor, saying he had a volunteer who may want to come in for a bit of time to help out in the classroom and learn about Montessori. This gives me faith....in what? I don't know. The ability of the universe to provide for the needs of my students? I don't know if it's someone in Sam's class or not -- if so, thank you. If not, thank you anyway.
I mentioned to Sam, and I'll mention it here as well -- this blog makes me a better teacher. I am so glad to share with all of you, and your comments are spectacular to read. Although I'm rarely able to adequately respond to any or all, they make me think, they give me new perspectives, and they give me that thing that all of us need at Gerena -- the voices of people supporting us.
Thanks.
school safety
I want to start by describing the high I felt coming out of your class with my students yesterday. My girls were so proud of themselves, I was so proud of them, I couldn't stop smiling and flet like my chest was going to explode. Seeing them take part in what could be the next step of their educational lives and seeing them own their responses and open up to adults they don't even know almost brought me to tears. I woke up today and - while i usually feel sluggish and lately haven't been able to get all the bad things about work our of my head, I flew out of my apartment ready to brag about the experience with everyone and to reconnect with the girls. Really, I was a cheerful mess all morning! Thank you for the experience. Thank you so much.
My high, unfortunately, ended when I heard that one of my students was in the clinic after a serious fight. It was the beginning of lunch, there had hardly been time for a fight. This student is my question kid. He panics if i don't answer him immediately. He starts talking at a million words a second and at top volume because he can't handle not knowing what to do. He's a prankster and a joker, but also very silly and humble at the same time. If I say yes, he'll say no... then he'll smile and say "miss you know I'm just playin." Lately he's been working so hard. So, when I heard he'd been in a fight, I knew something serious had to have happened because he is not the fighting kind. I went down to the clinic, and there he was - his eye busted and swolen and his nose bleeding, his eyes were bloodshot and his pride was crushed. Turns out that he was walking to gym with the rest of my class and hung back to talk with his girlfriend (which is cute because he gets so nervous when he talks to girls). One of my other students told him to hurry up as the rest of the group walked away. At this point, a group of guys from another school in the building had decided to get my question kid because one of them used to date the girl or some stupidity that hormones and immaturity create. Later, my boys came into math class unable to think about anything other than the fact that their friend must've thought they abandoned him because they walked away. We spent forty minutes talking about why walking away isn't always a bad thing, etc... How can they learn when this is their reality. Fighting in order to save their dignity and friendships.
My high, unfortunately, ended when I heard that one of my students was in the clinic after a serious fight. It was the beginning of lunch, there had hardly been time for a fight. This student is my question kid. He panics if i don't answer him immediately. He starts talking at a million words a second and at top volume because he can't handle not knowing what to do. He's a prankster and a joker, but also very silly and humble at the same time. If I say yes, he'll say no... then he'll smile and say "miss you know I'm just playin." Lately he's been working so hard. So, when I heard he'd been in a fight, I knew something serious had to have happened because he is not the fighting kind. I went down to the clinic, and there he was - his eye busted and swolen and his nose bleeding, his eyes were bloodshot and his pride was crushed. Turns out that he was walking to gym with the rest of my class and hung back to talk with his girlfriend (which is cute because he gets so nervous when he talks to girls). One of my other students told him to hurry up as the rest of the group walked away. At this point, a group of guys from another school in the building had decided to get my question kid because one of them used to date the girl or some stupidity that hormones and immaturity create. Later, my boys came into math class unable to think about anything other than the fact that their friend must've thought they abandoned him because they walked away. We spent forty minutes talking about why walking away isn't always a bad thing, etc... How can they learn when this is their reality. Fighting in order to save their dignity and friendships.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Floating Down Stream
Hi All! To answer a question from a previous post, my class does have many first generation students, and some that were born in other countries. My classroom is mainly a combination of Asian and Hispanic children, which makes sense because it is situated at the border of Chinatown which has a large Asian population and the Lower East Side, which is a neighborhood traditionally dominated by Jewish immigrants but has, in the last couple of decades become largely populated by newer immigrants. As far as problems in reading, my student that is having difficulty seems like he is having more of an internal processing problem, than an overall difficulty with the English language. Part of the way I know this is because he understands when I read out loud.
So today was a very interesting day. My cooperating teacher was on a field trip, and I therefore was able to give the classroom my own feel. Megan (my CT) hates noise in the classroom, whereas I think it’s great as long as it’s productive. This leads her to discipline my class when I don’t find it necessary. But today, without her around monitoring us, we could all take a deep breath and we got a lot of really great work done. My learning goals for the day were accomplished plus more. My class was interactive and fabulous. They were on task and coming up with creative ideas. Some days it just clicks, and today it really did for us. Part of my success today, believe it or not, was due to not over planning. When I invest too much time in planning out every detail I want to keep that plan. Today, I had an idea of what I wanted to do, and was able to take cues from my students and plan the day around what they specifically needed. When I felt we needed some extra talk time, I threw in some unanticipated group work. When they seemed ready to write, we did independent workshop time. I was so happy when I was done I forgot about what was ahead: the eighth grade class. Even though I don’t teach them, I do help out in their classroom. Because I am not ever in front of the class, I have a more relaxed relationship with these kids. I have slowly become friendly with some of them that actively seek out my extra help a lot. Today, I realized that I had not been acting like enough of an authority figure. I had become lax in asserting myself, and when I tried to quiet some students down I got either explosive attitudes or was ignored all together. My own class definitely knows better than to disrespect me in such a way. But, because these kids have never heard me speak sternly or take a student out in the hall to talk to them, they felt I had no recourse. And in a way, they were right. It was not my classroom and I didn’t want to undermine the authority of the teacher up front by disciplining her students. So I gritted my teeth and let it slide.
For a moment, when I was trying to model silent reading by reading my own book at a table with the kids, I really remembered what it felt like to be on the other side of the desk. It’s the day after Halloween, and you expect us to sit here and read silently instead of exchanging stories? Yea, right. As if responding to my thoughts the covering teacher yelled, “NO CANDY IN ELA!” I almost rolled my own eyes. She proceeded to do a read allowed of an Edgar Allen Poe story. This class is generally unresponsive when she reads allowed and hated “The Tell Tale Heart.” Needless to say, this is not the lesson I would have planned. I repeat this mantra over and over in my own head: “know your students.” I worked with my students today, and she worked against them. It’s like trying to swim up rapids instead of floating down them. Working against your students is hard work, frustrating, tiring, and you don’t get very far.
So today was a very interesting day. My cooperating teacher was on a field trip, and I therefore was able to give the classroom my own feel. Megan (my CT) hates noise in the classroom, whereas I think it’s great as long as it’s productive. This leads her to discipline my class when I don’t find it necessary. But today, without her around monitoring us, we could all take a deep breath and we got a lot of really great work done. My learning goals for the day were accomplished plus more. My class was interactive and fabulous. They were on task and coming up with creative ideas. Some days it just clicks, and today it really did for us. Part of my success today, believe it or not, was due to not over planning. When I invest too much time in planning out every detail I want to keep that plan. Today, I had an idea of what I wanted to do, and was able to take cues from my students and plan the day around what they specifically needed. When I felt we needed some extra talk time, I threw in some unanticipated group work. When they seemed ready to write, we did independent workshop time. I was so happy when I was done I forgot about what was ahead: the eighth grade class. Even though I don’t teach them, I do help out in their classroom. Because I am not ever in front of the class, I have a more relaxed relationship with these kids. I have slowly become friendly with some of them that actively seek out my extra help a lot. Today, I realized that I had not been acting like enough of an authority figure. I had become lax in asserting myself, and when I tried to quiet some students down I got either explosive attitudes or was ignored all together. My own class definitely knows better than to disrespect me in such a way. But, because these kids have never heard me speak sternly or take a student out in the hall to talk to them, they felt I had no recourse. And in a way, they were right. It was not my classroom and I didn’t want to undermine the authority of the teacher up front by disciplining her students. So I gritted my teeth and let it slide.
For a moment, when I was trying to model silent reading by reading my own book at a table with the kids, I really remembered what it felt like to be on the other side of the desk. It’s the day after Halloween, and you expect us to sit here and read silently instead of exchanging stories? Yea, right. As if responding to my thoughts the covering teacher yelled, “NO CANDY IN ELA!” I almost rolled my own eyes. She proceeded to do a read allowed of an Edgar Allen Poe story. This class is generally unresponsive when she reads allowed and hated “The Tell Tale Heart.” Needless to say, this is not the lesson I would have planned. I repeat this mantra over and over in my own head: “know your students.” I worked with my students today, and she worked against them. It’s like trying to swim up rapids instead of floating down them. Working against your students is hard work, frustrating, tiring, and you don’t get very far.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Ups and Downs
Hi all,
Last week showed me how full of ups and downs life as a teacher is. Monday was a spectacular day -- and unexpectedly so, since it was a Monday and the children typically come in forgetting how to act in the classroom. Tuesday, however, was the polar opposite. The students seemed to do absolutely no work. Nothing engaged them at all. Their work period was spent doing anything from wandering around (best case scenario) to hitting others and hiding under tables(worst case). The rest of the week followed Tuesday's example. Wednesday I went home convinced that I wasn't actually teaching. I felt mean; I felt ineffective. I felt like calling a friend that teaches nearby but couldn't bear to hear what her students were doing. I felt like calling my loan company and asking them if I could be deferred just on the basis that my education clearly didn't do much for me. Are my students learning anything at all? How many times will I have to explain what to do when the bell rings?
Montessori theory, as well as my own instincts, push me to find what interests these kids. What engages them? What CAN they do that they'll feel successful at? But it's so, so hard to do. What engages them is not academics right now. I've spent hours upon hours making beautiful classroom materials for them that they have either ruined or ignored. I have had to close the library for a spell because they were mistreating books. I filled the classroom with beauty, as Montessori urges. The thought is: humans need beauty (and it sure is in demand at a building like Gerena), and if you show kids that you are trusting them with beautiful things, they'll act accordingly. But the thing is.....they haven't. They've spilled food on the pillows I brought in for the library. They break things. They smashed a corner of the very expensive Montessori clock. So then what? My instinct is to take them away (and that's what I do most of the time), saying that they are clearly not ready for those things. But how often do these kids feel like they've failed? Am I contributing to that?
It's not just me, of course. Classrooms all over Gerena suffer from this problem. A friend of mine had a student take the wooden stick that she uses to ring her lovely bell and run down Main St with it (in the middle of a school day, with a paraprofessional giving chase) and throw it into the street. That was the same friend who had a student pull back her pinky finger so far on Friday that she couldn't move it and had to go to the hospital. The world around me abounds with bad news and horrible stories. It is becoming harder and harder to pay them no mind. I pass by the Pods on my way to Pod 8 and hear teachers frustrated before the day even begins. We complain more than my own son does about lack of television time and how unfair it is that I won't buy Webkinz . Do we have a right? Sure. More so than Drew does. Does it help us to complain? I used to think yes--that venting and complaining were helpful. But in this job, it doesn't help me. It spreads discouragement and a sense of helplessness. Those are things I refuse to acknowledge right now. Sure, as an urban teacher have to face the reality of what you are dealing with in the classroom. But facing it and complaining about it (or about the administration, or about the lack of walls, etc) are different things.
The good news? The finger was only strained. My beautiful clock can still tell time. My students draw me beautiful pictures that say "I love you". The Red Sox are in the World Series. I have a conference with a parent on Monday whom I've never met and whose son really needs some help in school. I spent my weekend laminating and cutting more beautiful materials. They might be ready for them on Monday.
As a final side note: I am part of a Service Team at Gerena -- groups of teachers that get together and troubleshoot issues with specific kids. In my team are two other Smithies. One of them, Emily, teaches third grade and we were discussing a student of hers who is very low in reading and writing -- at a first grade level. She also suffers from extreme lack of confidence and now practically refuses to attempt anything at all because of it. She responds well to one-on-one work, but has virtually no opportunity for that, since Emily is alone in the classroom all the time. Are there any brave ones out there reading this blog that might have an hour a week to give to this girl? As luck had it, I recently had received notice that I'd be receiving a volunteer in my classroom from 10-12 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I had his assignment changed to Emily's room, so those times are all set, I think. But Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from 9:30-11:30 -- those are the times that would be best. They do their literacy work in the morning. If you are interested, email me. My email is johannagreenough@gmail.com. I can hook you up with Emily so that you could set something up. And if anyone is interested in volunteering any time but can't during those times, let me know. I know so many other teachers who are desperate for another set of hands.
Last week showed me how full of ups and downs life as a teacher is. Monday was a spectacular day -- and unexpectedly so, since it was a Monday and the children typically come in forgetting how to act in the classroom. Tuesday, however, was the polar opposite. The students seemed to do absolutely no work. Nothing engaged them at all. Their work period was spent doing anything from wandering around (best case scenario) to hitting others and hiding under tables(worst case). The rest of the week followed Tuesday's example. Wednesday I went home convinced that I wasn't actually teaching. I felt mean; I felt ineffective. I felt like calling a friend that teaches nearby but couldn't bear to hear what her students were doing. I felt like calling my loan company and asking them if I could be deferred just on the basis that my education clearly didn't do much for me. Are my students learning anything at all? How many times will I have to explain what to do when the bell rings?
Montessori theory, as well as my own instincts, push me to find what interests these kids. What engages them? What CAN they do that they'll feel successful at? But it's so, so hard to do. What engages them is not academics right now. I've spent hours upon hours making beautiful classroom materials for them that they have either ruined or ignored. I have had to close the library for a spell because they were mistreating books. I filled the classroom with beauty, as Montessori urges. The thought is: humans need beauty (and it sure is in demand at a building like Gerena), and if you show kids that you are trusting them with beautiful things, they'll act accordingly. But the thing is.....they haven't. They've spilled food on the pillows I brought in for the library. They break things. They smashed a corner of the very expensive Montessori clock. So then what? My instinct is to take them away (and that's what I do most of the time), saying that they are clearly not ready for those things. But how often do these kids feel like they've failed? Am I contributing to that?
It's not just me, of course. Classrooms all over Gerena suffer from this problem. A friend of mine had a student take the wooden stick that she uses to ring her lovely bell and run down Main St with it (in the middle of a school day, with a paraprofessional giving chase) and throw it into the street. That was the same friend who had a student pull back her pinky finger so far on Friday that she couldn't move it and had to go to the hospital. The world around me abounds with bad news and horrible stories. It is becoming harder and harder to pay them no mind. I pass by the Pods on my way to Pod 8 and hear teachers frustrated before the day even begins. We complain more than my own son does about lack of television time and how unfair it is that I won't buy Webkinz . Do we have a right? Sure. More so than Drew does. Does it help us to complain? I used to think yes--that venting and complaining were helpful. But in this job, it doesn't help me. It spreads discouragement and a sense of helplessness. Those are things I refuse to acknowledge right now. Sure, as an urban teacher have to face the reality of what you are dealing with in the classroom. But facing it and complaining about it (or about the administration, or about the lack of walls, etc) are different things.
The good news? The finger was only strained. My beautiful clock can still tell time. My students draw me beautiful pictures that say "I love you". The Red Sox are in the World Series. I have a conference with a parent on Monday whom I've never met and whose son really needs some help in school. I spent my weekend laminating and cutting more beautiful materials. They might be ready for them on Monday.
As a final side note: I am part of a Service Team at Gerena -- groups of teachers that get together and troubleshoot issues with specific kids. In my team are two other Smithies. One of them, Emily, teaches third grade and we were discussing a student of hers who is very low in reading and writing -- at a first grade level. She also suffers from extreme lack of confidence and now practically refuses to attempt anything at all because of it. She responds well to one-on-one work, but has virtually no opportunity for that, since Emily is alone in the classroom all the time. Are there any brave ones out there reading this blog that might have an hour a week to give to this girl? As luck had it, I recently had received notice that I'd be receiving a volunteer in my classroom from 10-12 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I had his assignment changed to Emily's room, so those times are all set, I think. But Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from 9:30-11:30 -- those are the times that would be best. They do their literacy work in the morning. If you are interested, email me. My email is johannagreenough@gmail.com. I can hook you up with Emily so that you could set something up. And if anyone is interested in volunteering any time but can't during those times, let me know. I know so many other teachers who are desperate for another set of hands.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Parent Teacher Conferences y cuando yo hablo espanol
Marina- what a great post. If you want to talk shop about helping your student get into college, please let me know.
I would echo Marina comments. In fact, I agree with all of them. I have had both conversations- the "intervention," as well as the conversation with the student and parent/guardian that is just making sure that they continue to do what they are doing.
Generally speaking, parent teacher conferences is my prime practice time for both humility lessons as well as practicing my spanish. I find that parents, regardless of the number of errors I make, really appreciate that I make an effort to at least try to speak to them in spanish, to communicate their student's status in school.
I will forever adhere to the "inviting parents in and making them a part of the community" is the way to go. It may take as much work as it does to get students involved, for a variety of factors- jobs, family, fear, negative experiences in their own past with school-we, as educators, have to make an effort. My principal has parent phone number in his cell phone. He is such a proponent of calling families for both good and bad reasons. I think that sets the tone for the entire school, which makes it easier to strategize when some parents can't make it in, etc.
Bottom line? You make an effort as an educator, it will happen. It might be a phone call, an email, a meeting in person, or you getting invited to their house, but it can happen.
I would echo Marina comments. In fact, I agree with all of them. I have had both conversations- the "intervention," as well as the conversation with the student and parent/guardian that is just making sure that they continue to do what they are doing.
Generally speaking, parent teacher conferences is my prime practice time for both humility lessons as well as practicing my spanish. I find that parents, regardless of the number of errors I make, really appreciate that I make an effort to at least try to speak to them in spanish, to communicate their student's status in school.
I will forever adhere to the "inviting parents in and making them a part of the community" is the way to go. It may take as much work as it does to get students involved, for a variety of factors- jobs, family, fear, negative experiences in their own past with school-we, as educators, have to make an effort. My principal has parent phone number in his cell phone. He is such a proponent of calling families for both good and bad reasons. I think that sets the tone for the entire school, which makes it easier to strategize when some parents can't make it in, etc.
Bottom line? You make an effort as an educator, it will happen. It might be a phone call, an email, a meeting in person, or you getting invited to their house, but it can happen.
Parents and everyone who assumes their role
Great timing on this question as parent/teacher conferences are held city wide(?) this week in high schools. As an advisor, it falls upon me to reach out to parents of the 28 students in my advisory to ensure that they attend this week; our school has the policy of witholding the first marking period grades until a parent etc. shows up.
Even with that in place, it doesn't always work that we see the parents of the students that we most need to conference with. That is, the students who are truants or who are in danger of not graduating, or ones we want to recommend for remediation or testing or counseling. Many of the parents of these students, who may have a record of school phone calls, are simply fed up with missing work and coming to school to "deal" with their child's next round of misbehavior. It's painful to sit in a meeting with that chemical makeup -- and I'm speaking here about meetings that the advisor, the deans, or the guidance counsellors will call in order to air concerns with the parent. (When the issue is academic, teachers are often invited to these too.) I have heard parents say anything from, "Well, I don't know what to do with him so I just give him to you," to, "I'm sending you to live with your father." We often share their frustration, but clearly this is can be devastating to the child and augment his or her behavior. Of course we have many parents of failing or troubled (I hate that word, but it'll have to do) students who are fully supportive of the message coming from the school and deeply appreciate the attention we have given the matter. And in general, the reaction I get from parents is along those lines.
This year I have an AVID advisory, which in many ways is a different ball game than the advisories I've lead the previous 2 years. AVID, if you haven't heard of it, is a national program started in California that targets mid-level students who have the potential, but perhaps neither the means nor the exposure, to go to a 4 year college. In our school, AVID students are culled from the top performing 8th graders, though we also accept students in the 10th grade who prove theor academic meddle in the 9th. As a note, our top performing students (students who test at or just above grade level on math and literacy tests) are typical mid-level students at places like NHS and Amherst High. At any rate, this is a very successful program in our school largely because of the efforts of our cooridinator who sits down with parents at orientation and makes sure that they are on board to support their children in their collge preparation. What you might have guessed by now, then, is that I already expect a much larger turnout than in years past.
Before I run off to school, I want to mention a few other things briefly that won't really have an explicit connection but I'm sure you can string them together. Whether you bother them at work, call them on their cell phones, or email them, parents are by and large incredibly appreciative that you have taken the time to do what you're doing. I believe it assures them that even though their kid is not in a competitive school, and is in fact in the very same building that once housed one of the most dangerous and low-performing schools in the city, someone in there cares and their child may actually walk away with an education. I currently teach 137 students. At parent conferences, it's likely that along with the advisory parents, I'll only see parents of kids who failed English this marking period, and a dozen or so of the students who just really like me and want me to meet their parents. The reason I used "parents etc." in the first paragraph is because there's a lot of etc. I have a student who lives with her aunt because mom died and dad doesn't much exist, a student last year who lived with his cousin for reasons he wouldn't explain, and another student this year who lives with GREAT grandma. There are 18 year old students who have legal autonomy, students who are in the foster care system and get kicked out the moment they turn 18, students who themselves are parents. All this puts into perspective those nasty conferences I've had where parents have told me to fuck off and of course the one where the student, his mom who he translated for, and I all cried at some point when Joni, who works as hard at school and in a restaurant as anyone to support his family, said that he was going to make it to college despite his learning disability and despite the fact that both his brother and father were to be deported later that month. You just can't make that stuff up.
Even with that in place, it doesn't always work that we see the parents of the students that we most need to conference with. That is, the students who are truants or who are in danger of not graduating, or ones we want to recommend for remediation or testing or counseling. Many of the parents of these students, who may have a record of school phone calls, are simply fed up with missing work and coming to school to "deal" with their child's next round of misbehavior. It's painful to sit in a meeting with that chemical makeup -- and I'm speaking here about meetings that the advisor, the deans, or the guidance counsellors will call in order to air concerns with the parent. (When the issue is academic, teachers are often invited to these too.) I have heard parents say anything from, "Well, I don't know what to do with him so I just give him to you," to, "I'm sending you to live with your father." We often share their frustration, but clearly this is can be devastating to the child and augment his or her behavior. Of course we have many parents of failing or troubled (I hate that word, but it'll have to do) students who are fully supportive of the message coming from the school and deeply appreciate the attention we have given the matter. And in general, the reaction I get from parents is along those lines.
This year I have an AVID advisory, which in many ways is a different ball game than the advisories I've lead the previous 2 years. AVID, if you haven't heard of it, is a national program started in California that targets mid-level students who have the potential, but perhaps neither the means nor the exposure, to go to a 4 year college. In our school, AVID students are culled from the top performing 8th graders, though we also accept students in the 10th grade who prove theor academic meddle in the 9th. As a note, our top performing students (students who test at or just above grade level on math and literacy tests) are typical mid-level students at places like NHS and Amherst High. At any rate, this is a very successful program in our school largely because of the efforts of our cooridinator who sits down with parents at orientation and makes sure that they are on board to support their children in their collge preparation. What you might have guessed by now, then, is that I already expect a much larger turnout than in years past.
Before I run off to school, I want to mention a few other things briefly that won't really have an explicit connection but I'm sure you can string them together. Whether you bother them at work, call them on their cell phones, or email them, parents are by and large incredibly appreciative that you have taken the time to do what you're doing. I believe it assures them that even though their kid is not in a competitive school, and is in fact in the very same building that once housed one of the most dangerous and low-performing schools in the city, someone in there cares and their child may actually walk away with an education. I currently teach 137 students. At parent conferences, it's likely that along with the advisory parents, I'll only see parents of kids who failed English this marking period, and a dozen or so of the students who just really like me and want me to meet their parents. The reason I used "parents etc." in the first paragraph is because there's a lot of etc. I have a student who lives with her aunt because mom died and dad doesn't much exist, a student last year who lived with his cousin for reasons he wouldn't explain, and another student this year who lives with GREAT grandma. There are 18 year old students who have legal autonomy, students who are in the foster care system and get kicked out the moment they turn 18, students who themselves are parents. All this puts into perspective those nasty conferences I've had where parents have told me to fuck off and of course the one where the student, his mom who he translated for, and I all cried at some point when Joni, who works as hard at school and in a restaurant as anyone to support his family, said that he was going to make it to college despite his learning disability and despite the fact that both his brother and father were to be deported later that month. You just can't make that stuff up.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Introduction
HI Everyone!
This is my first time posting hear. I took Education in the City last year, and am now pursuing my MA in English education at NYU. I grew up in Westchester County New York. I currently student teach seventh grade at Castle Middle School in Chinatown (which is located in south eastern Manhattan). The class is 31 students, all basically mine, my cooperating teacher hardly ever intervenes. I teach my lesson plans (which I probably should be working on right now). I am also in classes at NYU. I am taking an introductory linguistics course, a course that corresponds with my student teaching, and a course on how to teach reading. You may think that because I am going to receive a degree teaching students 7-12, that I would not need a course in teaching kids how to read. But, sadly that is not the case. One of the seventh graders in my class has woefully poor reading comprehension skills, and can hardly sound out letters on the page.
I will be finished with my MA in June because my program is only a year long. Being back in a secondary classroom this year, for the first time as an authority figure, has been a really interesting experience . I have almost adjusted to the name Ms. Lifson. Something that struck me on the first day of school is how truly boring school can be. I had forgotten the endless monotony of the school day, especially for the kids at my school who are deprived of both art and gym. With my hour and fifteen minutes I try and cut through the boredom by doing interesting, engaging, and fun lessons. Sometimes this yields positive results, other times the boredom is simply replaced with hyperactive chatter. Teaching is harder than I thought it would be, and I’m still getting the hang of being in front of the classroom.
Well, I am off to do some homework, write up lesson plans, and plan out some extra credit work for my failing students.
Until Next Time,
Ms. Lifson
This is my first time posting hear. I took Education in the City last year, and am now pursuing my MA in English education at NYU. I grew up in Westchester County New York. I currently student teach seventh grade at Castle Middle School in Chinatown (which is located in south eastern Manhattan). The class is 31 students, all basically mine, my cooperating teacher hardly ever intervenes. I teach my lesson plans (which I probably should be working on right now). I am also in classes at NYU. I am taking an introductory linguistics course, a course that corresponds with my student teaching, and a course on how to teach reading. You may think that because I am going to receive a degree teaching students 7-12, that I would not need a course in teaching kids how to read. But, sadly that is not the case. One of the seventh graders in my class has woefully poor reading comprehension skills, and can hardly sound out letters on the page.
I will be finished with my MA in June because my program is only a year long. Being back in a secondary classroom this year, for the first time as an authority figure, has been a really interesting experience . I have almost adjusted to the name Ms. Lifson. Something that struck me on the first day of school is how truly boring school can be. I had forgotten the endless monotony of the school day, especially for the kids at my school who are deprived of both art and gym. With my hour and fifteen minutes I try and cut through the boredom by doing interesting, engaging, and fun lessons. Sometimes this yields positive results, other times the boredom is simply replaced with hyperactive chatter. Teaching is harder than I thought it would be, and I’m still getting the hang of being in front of the classroom.
Well, I am off to do some homework, write up lesson plans, and plan out some extra credit work for my failing students.
Until Next Time,
Ms. Lifson
Thinking about parents
Hi there everyone,
I'm writing this at home, again feeling guilty about not being in the classroom. My son -- the child who never gets sick, and when he does, is never sick enough to stay home from school -- is upstairs sick with a stomach bug that he probably got from his little sister.
I've been thinking about parents and their role in the classroom lately anyway -- and Sam had asked us to comment on it, so I'm glad to. Tomorrow is a conference day. Springfield requires their teachers to work at least one hour a week outside of the classroom. And since we know that teachers NEVER work outside the classroom -- especially not their first year, when they have everything completely figured out -- they ensure that we do so by having what's called Extended Day. One Wednesday a month it is a staff meeting, another Wednesday it's parent conferences. (The other two Wednesdays we Montessori trainees have off, as a nod to the homework and our Tuesday classes.) So that means that one day a month we have one hour -- about three slots-- for parent conferences. Last month I had three parents sign up and one show, even after phone calls and reminders. The one that showed is the same parent who would talk to me nonstop about her son at every morning and afternoon transition, if I let her. While I was out last week, she came in the classroom for over an hour, tried to "help out" by telling a child (not her son) to erase her writing since it was spelled wrong, and finally had to be removed by the principal. It's not that she's a bad person, per se. She's just misguided and recently lost her job, so I think she's devoting even MORE time to making sure her son's class runs smoothly.
Some of the parents I have never met, and a few are ardently involved -- more so than I'd wish, even, as you can see. On the whole, when I have had conversations with parents about their children, I find them to be very typical of parents everywhere....they want the best for their child. They want him/her to do well, have friends, act appropriately, etc. They do parent differently than I do. But their basic goals are the same.
Occasionally I've found parents to be a bit defensive about their children (another ubiquitous trait of parents). "How is she/he doing?" is a common question I hear. Often I respond positively. Sometimes, after a particularly tough day that included violent incidents or continual distractions, I'll say that their child had a tough time focusing, or repeatedly hit another child, etc. The responses to this are interesting. Some parents act concerned and promise to make it better. Others start to scream (often in Spanish) at their child right there in front of me. Some start to complain about how terrible the child is at home, right in front of the child. And then a few tell me that I'm not doing very well, and need to punish the child more. Or offer rewards for good behavior. There is so much of that going on at home with these children, from what I can tell. It's antithetical to everything Montessori believed in.
I often wish that parents had been given some sort of clue as to what the Montessori thing was all about. Until school began, many of them knew only that there was some sort of change happening. I'm not sure any one of them could say what Montessori is all about, even in the most general way. That worries me.
I'm writing this at home, again feeling guilty about not being in the classroom. My son -- the child who never gets sick, and when he does, is never sick enough to stay home from school -- is upstairs sick with a stomach bug that he probably got from his little sister.
I've been thinking about parents and their role in the classroom lately anyway -- and Sam had asked us to comment on it, so I'm glad to. Tomorrow is a conference day. Springfield requires their teachers to work at least one hour a week outside of the classroom. And since we know that teachers NEVER work outside the classroom -- especially not their first year, when they have everything completely figured out -- they ensure that we do so by having what's called Extended Day. One Wednesday a month it is a staff meeting, another Wednesday it's parent conferences. (The other two Wednesdays we Montessori trainees have off, as a nod to the homework and our Tuesday classes.) So that means that one day a month we have one hour -- about three slots-- for parent conferences. Last month I had three parents sign up and one show, even after phone calls and reminders. The one that showed is the same parent who would talk to me nonstop about her son at every morning and afternoon transition, if I let her. While I was out last week, she came in the classroom for over an hour, tried to "help out" by telling a child (not her son) to erase her writing since it was spelled wrong, and finally had to be removed by the principal. It's not that she's a bad person, per se. She's just misguided and recently lost her job, so I think she's devoting even MORE time to making sure her son's class runs smoothly.
Some of the parents I have never met, and a few are ardently involved -- more so than I'd wish, even, as you can see. On the whole, when I have had conversations with parents about their children, I find them to be very typical of parents everywhere....they want the best for their child. They want him/her to do well, have friends, act appropriately, etc. They do parent differently than I do. But their basic goals are the same.
Occasionally I've found parents to be a bit defensive about their children (another ubiquitous trait of parents). "How is she/he doing?" is a common question I hear. Often I respond positively. Sometimes, after a particularly tough day that included violent incidents or continual distractions, I'll say that their child had a tough time focusing, or repeatedly hit another child, etc. The responses to this are interesting. Some parents act concerned and promise to make it better. Others start to scream (often in Spanish) at their child right there in front of me. Some start to complain about how terrible the child is at home, right in front of the child. And then a few tell me that I'm not doing very well, and need to punish the child more. Or offer rewards for good behavior. There is so much of that going on at home with these children, from what I can tell. It's antithetical to everything Montessori believed in.
I often wish that parents had been given some sort of clue as to what the Montessori thing was all about. Until school began, many of them knew only that there was some sort of change happening. I'm not sure any one of them could say what Montessori is all about, even in the most general way. That worries me.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Leaving the classroom, albeit briefly
This post comes the night before I leave with my son to visit Arkansas. He has wanted to go look for crystals for over a year, so I decided to bring him for his 8th birthday. It's a cheapish flight and the most valuable thing for him will be time alone with mom (read: no baby sister and her needy ways). So I leave for the airport tomorrow at 4:00 a.m.. I'll miss tomorrow and then Tuesday. I'm worried sick about my classroom. They are just now starting to make tiny tiny steps in the right direction. Today a child that is shut down completely 80 percent of the time came in beaming about being able to read the book I'd sent home with him. He read it to all his classmates and teachers. The most violence-prone child in the class has fallen in love with the continent song we just learned. He spends lots of time in our work period staring at the globe singing the song. We're getting somewhere, and I'm so afraid of moving backwards. What will I come back to on Wednesday?
It's telltale that I'm less worried about leaving my 1.5 year old. At least she will be with my husband. Oh! That reminds me: what a reaction a male gets in a classroom. My husband has stopped by after getting out of work early twice now. Each time the children just stare in awe, it seems like. They ask about him almost every day: when is he coming back? Will he read us a book? Are his tattoos real? Soon, yes, and yes.
I saw some of the Smith tutors today at Gerena. What a turnout! I lobbied for the tutoring program at our staff meeting -- teachers need incentive to get that info to parents and students. It's not so easy in our school. It's nice to see all those eager Smithies ready to give of themselves to Gerena.
Many of you have asked about Montessori details. I'd like to focus another post on that later, but for now I'll answer a few: No, the training is not paid. Yes, it is worth it (even with thousands of dollars of daycare for the summer). Montessori will work in Springfield. It worked in urban Italy first, and works at Zanetti beautifully. It's NOT a private school, white, upper middle class type of schooling, which is what I assumed at first. That's just what it's become in America. There are Montessori baby/toddler programs (none near here -- which my husband and our budget are thankful for), preschool-Kindergartens, E1 (1-3rd grade), E2 (4th-6th), and middle schools. There a few high schools, but they're not very common, and I'm not sure how much they are backed by organizations like the American Montessori Society.
The question about the demographics of Montessori teachers, particularly due to the lengthy unpaid training (and, I might add, the unbelievable demands on Montessori teachers to make materials WHILE still going to school during the year), is a truly interesting one. I hadn't thought of that, and yet it makes sense. For many potential teachers, it just wouldn't be an option. For a while I thought I'd be one of them, but it was important to me to make it work financially, and I have.
I welcome any of you to visit my class, as it seems like a few of you may be interested. But just know going in that this class is nowhere near "normalized". That is to say, in many ways it will not look like a Montessori classroom. There are many differences right now. But the general structure is there, as well as some of the truly beautiful materials. I can't wait to get back there, even though I'm longing for these days off with no planning and no "Miss Greenough! So-and-so told me to put my head on the floor and then I did and then he dropped a dictionary on it!" Ah yes, the sweet sounds of my classroom.
It's telltale that I'm less worried about leaving my 1.5 year old. At least she will be with my husband. Oh! That reminds me: what a reaction a male gets in a classroom. My husband has stopped by after getting out of work early twice now. Each time the children just stare in awe, it seems like. They ask about him almost every day: when is he coming back? Will he read us a book? Are his tattoos real? Soon, yes, and yes.
I saw some of the Smith tutors today at Gerena. What a turnout! I lobbied for the tutoring program at our staff meeting -- teachers need incentive to get that info to parents and students. It's not so easy in our school. It's nice to see all those eager Smithies ready to give of themselves to Gerena.
Many of you have asked about Montessori details. I'd like to focus another post on that later, but for now I'll answer a few: No, the training is not paid. Yes, it is worth it (even with thousands of dollars of daycare for the summer). Montessori will work in Springfield. It worked in urban Italy first, and works at Zanetti beautifully. It's NOT a private school, white, upper middle class type of schooling, which is what I assumed at first. That's just what it's become in America. There are Montessori baby/toddler programs (none near here -- which my husband and our budget are thankful for), preschool-Kindergartens, E1 (1-3rd grade), E2 (4th-6th), and middle schools. There a few high schools, but they're not very common, and I'm not sure how much they are backed by organizations like the American Montessori Society.
The question about the demographics of Montessori teachers, particularly due to the lengthy unpaid training (and, I might add, the unbelievable demands on Montessori teachers to make materials WHILE still going to school during the year), is a truly interesting one. I hadn't thought of that, and yet it makes sense. For many potential teachers, it just wouldn't be an option. For a while I thought I'd be one of them, but it was important to me to make it work financially, and I have.
I welcome any of you to visit my class, as it seems like a few of you may be interested. But just know going in that this class is nowhere near "normalized". That is to say, in many ways it will not look like a Montessori classroom. There are many differences right now. But the general structure is there, as well as some of the truly beautiful materials. I can't wait to get back there, even though I'm longing for these days off with no planning and no "Miss Greenough! So-and-so told me to put my head on the floor and then I did and then he dropped a dictionary on it!" Ah yes, the sweet sounds of my classroom.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Kozol and the Bronx
Jonathan Kozol is quite a guy. If you've ever heard him speak, you'll find that he's a man of a smaller stature, not exactly the kind you think would commit his lifetime exposing the open sores and pains of public education in urban spots in the US. He's a very knowlegable man.
In my experience, specifically regarding his comments on the "restoration of apartheid schooling in America," I would have to agree. That said, my example is, of course, going to relate to applying to college. Recently, I attended the National Assoc of College Admissions Counselors in Texas. In short, it's a huge conference where the HS side meets the college side. So much of my time is spent meeting college reps, "selling" my school, but more specifically, "selling" my students. If I sit in any session during this conference, I am surrounded by private school after private school. There are very few schools from the Bronx, let alone from public schools. I think their underrepresentation is a result of their schools not having enough money to get them to these conferences. As a result, thousands of public schools specifically urban, that serve low-income, minority students are not getting the exposure that they need to help connect students to the correct post-graduate life. I realize that this isn't the specific focus of Kozol's point here- he's focusing on students in K-12. However, I think this is just one more example of how it continues after k-12.
Often times colleges want "diverse" student bodies...but often at the higher edu level there are still not enough support systems- academically, emotionally, and financially to support the increasing number of minority students who are graduating from high school. As a result, higher edu institutions are "segregated."
I know that many school are working at making this not so, I just don't think we're there yet.
In my experience, specifically regarding his comments on the "restoration of apartheid schooling in America," I would have to agree. That said, my example is, of course, going to relate to applying to college. Recently, I attended the National Assoc of College Admissions Counselors in Texas. In short, it's a huge conference where the HS side meets the college side. So much of my time is spent meeting college reps, "selling" my school, but more specifically, "selling" my students. If I sit in any session during this conference, I am surrounded by private school after private school. There are very few schools from the Bronx, let alone from public schools. I think their underrepresentation is a result of their schools not having enough money to get them to these conferences. As a result, thousands of public schools specifically urban, that serve low-income, minority students are not getting the exposure that they need to help connect students to the correct post-graduate life. I realize that this isn't the specific focus of Kozol's point here- he's focusing on students in K-12. However, I think this is just one more example of how it continues after k-12.
Often times colleges want "diverse" student bodies...but often at the higher edu level there are still not enough support systems- academically, emotionally, and financially to support the increasing number of minority students who are graduating from high school. As a result, higher edu institutions are "segregated."
I know that many school are working at making this not so, I just don't think we're there yet.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thoughts on the week at Gerena
Thank you to all of you for the wonderful comments. Apparently I do know a few of you in the class, which is great.
This weekend is one of my Montessori weekends. I call it that because I was in school 4-7 tonight, tomorrow I’ll go back from 8-5, and then Sunday from 8-2. It’s draining and exhausting having to be a student after teaching. My priority is really in the classroom right now.
Two things are at the forefront of my mind right now. This afternoon I found out from one of my students that she is being sexually abused. When we told her mother, she claimed it couldn’t be true. I won’t relate the story because I don’t know how much of it should be made public, but the whole thing made me ill. I fear for her. I can’t believe that she has go home to this family member this weekend. I have to let it go and trust that the right people will do the right things now, the right forms having been filed and all that. Yet I can’t. Forms don't reassure me.
The second thing I’m thinking about lately is the marked difference between urban and rural schools. My son Drew is almost 8 and is in second grade in Hatfield. When we were at his Open House last night, the differences between his school system and Springfield were very obvious. I’d just been at my Open House the night before. My turnout was very high, by Gerena standards – 6 students were represented, and that constitutes over a third of my class, since I am down to 16 now. (The last student who left had moved schools in the middle of the week without telling Gerena.) In stark contrast, Hatfield's Open House was prefaced by a school assembly in which the students sang the school song and then, when we made our way to Drew’s classroom, it was absolutely mobbed. Almost all of the 21 students had their families there.
On my way out, I encountered the new reading teacher. He has worked with Drew, so I introduced myself. As he and I were talking, the school counselor, Molly – a good friend and neighbor of mine – came by and said to him, “I was thinking we would take a field trip and go observe at Gerena with Johanna!” The new teacher said something like “Oh, yeah right. Gerena….yeah, I’ve been there. They went…Montessori or something this year. ” His tone of voice was very negative. He sort of shook his head and chuckled a bit. I decided to pipe up then and say, “Yeah, so have I – I teach first grade there!” My husband later said he’d never seen anyone change gears so fast. He suddenly started saying how much he loved Springfield, used to work in one of its school systems, and wasn’t it great to work there. And yet his tune was much different before he knew I worked there. (The back story to all this is that I was in the running for a job at Hatfield and called to cancel my second interview because Gerena had hired me.)
It seems like among teachers, there’s a stigma that goes along with teaching in urban schools – especially with the administration in them. I was intensely discouraged from applying in Springfield by the teacher friends I had in Hatfield. What is all of that about? We have few enough teachers willing to work in city schools. Let’s encourage them when we can.
So…not to be discouraging myself, but I have lately been feeling completely unprepared for this job. As Lindsey says, I don’t know if you can be. I did as much with urban ed as I could at Smith – Sam’s course, the Urban Ed Fellowship, even a spring term independent study on the success of the Zanetti students. But I still could not have guessed what it was like to teach this class in this school. I suppose that’s true of all teachers to an extent. Still – I urge all of you to go to a classroom in a city and spend some time, especially if you think you want to teach in an urban area. Observation is great but it’s even better if you can really DO something, even something like a read aloud, where you get that experience of being in the teacher’s role. There is nothing that compares to that in its moments of great success and great challenge.
This weekend is one of my Montessori weekends. I call it that because I was in school 4-7 tonight, tomorrow I’ll go back from 8-5, and then Sunday from 8-2. It’s draining and exhausting having to be a student after teaching. My priority is really in the classroom right now.
Two things are at the forefront of my mind right now. This afternoon I found out from one of my students that she is being sexually abused. When we told her mother, she claimed it couldn’t be true. I won’t relate the story because I don’t know how much of it should be made public, but the whole thing made me ill. I fear for her. I can’t believe that she has go home to this family member this weekend. I have to let it go and trust that the right people will do the right things now, the right forms having been filed and all that. Yet I can’t. Forms don't reassure me.
The second thing I’m thinking about lately is the marked difference between urban and rural schools. My son Drew is almost 8 and is in second grade in Hatfield. When we were at his Open House last night, the differences between his school system and Springfield were very obvious. I’d just been at my Open House the night before. My turnout was very high, by Gerena standards – 6 students were represented, and that constitutes over a third of my class, since I am down to 16 now. (The last student who left had moved schools in the middle of the week without telling Gerena.) In stark contrast, Hatfield's Open House was prefaced by a school assembly in which the students sang the school song and then, when we made our way to Drew’s classroom, it was absolutely mobbed. Almost all of the 21 students had their families there.
On my way out, I encountered the new reading teacher. He has worked with Drew, so I introduced myself. As he and I were talking, the school counselor, Molly – a good friend and neighbor of mine – came by and said to him, “I was thinking we would take a field trip and go observe at Gerena with Johanna!” The new teacher said something like “Oh, yeah right. Gerena….yeah, I’ve been there. They went…Montessori or something this year. ” His tone of voice was very negative. He sort of shook his head and chuckled a bit. I decided to pipe up then and say, “Yeah, so have I – I teach first grade there!” My husband later said he’d never seen anyone change gears so fast. He suddenly started saying how much he loved Springfield, used to work in one of its school systems, and wasn’t it great to work there. And yet his tune was much different before he knew I worked there. (The back story to all this is that I was in the running for a job at Hatfield and called to cancel my second interview because Gerena had hired me.)
It seems like among teachers, there’s a stigma that goes along with teaching in urban schools – especially with the administration in them. I was intensely discouraged from applying in Springfield by the teacher friends I had in Hatfield. What is all of that about? We have few enough teachers willing to work in city schools. Let’s encourage them when we can.
So…not to be discouraging myself, but I have lately been feeling completely unprepared for this job. As Lindsey says, I don’t know if you can be. I did as much with urban ed as I could at Smith – Sam’s course, the Urban Ed Fellowship, even a spring term independent study on the success of the Zanetti students. But I still could not have guessed what it was like to teach this class in this school. I suppose that’s true of all teachers to an extent. Still – I urge all of you to go to a classroom in a city and spend some time, especially if you think you want to teach in an urban area. Observation is great but it’s even better if you can really DO something, even something like a read aloud, where you get that experience of being in the teacher’s role. There is nothing that compares to that in its moments of great success and great challenge.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Hello from Springfield
Hello to all ---
I have a feeling I'm a bit of a latecomer to this blog, so I am going to introduce myself. My name is Johanna Greenough, and I was in the Education in the Cities course last year at Smith. I went through the MEd program there last year, and was very interested in teaching in an urban area, so I begged to be let into the class. I have to say that I'm so glad I was. I am now teaching at the Gerena Elementary School (K-5) in Springfield. I was part of the tutoring program there last fall as part of the course as well.
I am teaching first grade there, in a classroom which will eventually include children ages 6-9. As you may or may not know, Gerena is transitioning to a Montessori school, so I'm also enrolled in a second master's program (don't ask -- it was never in the plans) that will give me Montessori certification. The only grades that are actually implementing Montessori this year are PreK-K (called Children's House in a Montessori setting), and 1st grade. That means me. Gerena is also committed to using Responsive Classroom this year, as well as finding ways to meet all of the state and district frameworks. Marrying all of those things is a bit difficult, particularly as a first-year teacher in a community of children who often don't have their basic needs met.
I will certainly go into more detail about my class and the experience I am having as this blog continues. But for now, since time is of the essence and my own children are almost ready for some bedtime routines, let me just say: this is the hardest job I have ever had. It takes up all of my time, it is often frustrating, and I often feel ineffectual. It is also the best job I've ever had. I am doing what I love the most in a community that needs people like me. I am at the beginning of a ground-up, very difficult transition for these children, their parents, and the entire school -- staff and administration included. And so, when I sit in a circle of first graders and remind children over and over again that no, you should not be pulling up staples from the rug and putting them in your mouth, I try to remind myself that this is what those children need from me. And when I am consoling a child grieving for his sibling who drowned recently, I remember that this, too, is what those children need from me.
While I try to acclimate myself to my many roles as teacher in the classroom, I wonder: how many of you have something very valuable to offer classrooms at Gerena. I know that some students from my class last year volunteered their time at Gerena. If that's something you can fit into a schedule which I know (from experience) often looks completely booked, then I would welcome you. You can't imagine the immense difference a set of hands makes in a classroom. I often struggle for that additional set of hands. I have a paraprofessional in and out of the room, but even two teachers is often not enough for these children. If anyone is interested in volunteering in my room, I'd love that. There are other Smithies here, too -- Lindsey Fernald, in second grade; Emily Breines, in third, and Anne Naughton, in fourth. They are all struggling to do the best they can. They are all overwhelmed from time to time and would welcome you, I'm sure.
I myself am so glad to be on this blog and to get some fresh views and ideas on things.
I have a feeling I'm a bit of a latecomer to this blog, so I am going to introduce myself. My name is Johanna Greenough, and I was in the Education in the Cities course last year at Smith. I went through the MEd program there last year, and was very interested in teaching in an urban area, so I begged to be let into the class. I have to say that I'm so glad I was. I am now teaching at the Gerena Elementary School (K-5) in Springfield. I was part of the tutoring program there last fall as part of the course as well.
I am teaching first grade there, in a classroom which will eventually include children ages 6-9. As you may or may not know, Gerena is transitioning to a Montessori school, so I'm also enrolled in a second master's program (don't ask -- it was never in the plans) that will give me Montessori certification. The only grades that are actually implementing Montessori this year are PreK-K (called Children's House in a Montessori setting), and 1st grade. That means me. Gerena is also committed to using Responsive Classroom this year, as well as finding ways to meet all of the state and district frameworks. Marrying all of those things is a bit difficult, particularly as a first-year teacher in a community of children who often don't have their basic needs met.
I will certainly go into more detail about my class and the experience I am having as this blog continues. But for now, since time is of the essence and my own children are almost ready for some bedtime routines, let me just say: this is the hardest job I have ever had. It takes up all of my time, it is often frustrating, and I often feel ineffectual. It is also the best job I've ever had. I am doing what I love the most in a community that needs people like me. I am at the beginning of a ground-up, very difficult transition for these children, their parents, and the entire school -- staff and administration included. And so, when I sit in a circle of first graders and remind children over and over again that no, you should not be pulling up staples from the rug and putting them in your mouth, I try to remind myself that this is what those children need from me. And when I am consoling a child grieving for his sibling who drowned recently, I remember that this, too, is what those children need from me.
While I try to acclimate myself to my many roles as teacher in the classroom, I wonder: how many of you have something very valuable to offer classrooms at Gerena. I know that some students from my class last year volunteered their time at Gerena. If that's something you can fit into a schedule which I know (from experience) often looks completely booked, then I would welcome you. You can't imagine the immense difference a set of hands makes in a classroom. I often struggle for that additional set of hands. I have a paraprofessional in and out of the room, but even two teachers is often not enough for these children. If anyone is interested in volunteering in my room, I'd love that. There are other Smithies here, too -- Lindsey Fernald, in second grade; Emily Breines, in third, and Anne Naughton, in fourth. They are all struggling to do the best they can. They are all overwhelmed from time to time and would welcome you, I'm sure.
I myself am so glad to be on this blog and to get some fresh views and ideas on things.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Introduction
Hello, and sorry for the delay in my introduction... it has been a hectic first two weeks!
I am in my second year as a Special Education Teaching Fellow at Bronx Expeditionary Learning High School (BELHS). BELHS is part of a national network of Expeditionary Learning Schools supported by the Outward Bound organization. this year we will graduate our first class of seniors, which is very exciting! We are a public school, one of six in the enormous Taft Educational Campus (what used to be Taft High School before the small schools movement), and this is our first year as an Empowerment school - which basically means we work more independently through our principal having more budgetary control, but we have two years to show improvement in test scores or the city will intervene. To be quite honest, I have started to loose touch with what all of this means politically as I am dealing with the reality of this ultimatum of sorts in my school; in order to improve test scores, our students have lost almost all of their electives. Only eleventh and twelfth graders get a technology elective (which counts as art) and some get gym.
Last year, I worked in an inclusion setting as a collaborative team teacher. My class was a mix of general education students and special education students. I worked with the general education teachers to support the special education students. It was a challenge because I was working with three different subjects, Math, English, and Science, and over the course of the year worked with five different teachers as a result of my science co-teacher quitting her alternative certification program to go to Hunter for graduate school. I also was head of the Special Education department - by default ... one day I just started getting stuff in my mailbox and no one seemed to mind that I had zero experience. It was an overwhelming year.
This year, I am teaching my own class of 12 special education students. Most of my students are emotionally disturbed or have learning disabilities. Unlike my students from last year (whom I love and still work with as a co-teacher of tenth grade math), these kids are angels. Their emotional disabilities are evident in their hyper-sensitivity and irrational responses, but they are incredibly eager to please me and feel validated. My students last year were angry all the time, which led them to give up easily and not care if they succeeded academically or not (on the surface). My current students overwhelm me with "oooh pick me miss" and hands waving in my face and hugs. I almost feel like an elementary school teacher!
This year I was hoping to focus on my class rather than any leadership positions. I am teaching both math and science. Now, I have not taken a math class since high school and never did very well in the subject. While I love science, my background is in the humanities. I have more math anxiety than some of my students, so I thought that spending my time in my graduate classes and prepping for two subjects in which i have little to no experience would be enough. As of today though, no one else in the department is stepping up to be Sped. chair ... so it looks like I will be submitting my application. In addition to my Math class, my science class, my department responsibilities, and my graduate work, I also have an advisory group - the same students as last year - who are now tenth graders and think they run the place... a handful to say the least.
With all of this, I can say that I truly love my job. This year seems like it will be even more full than the last, but more satisfying. It is amazing what one year of experience can do for you when your school has just hired 14 new teachers, most of whom are first year teach for america and teaching fellows teachers. I am now a "veteran" teacher, but I hardly feel like I deserve the title! I am looking forward to sharing my experiences with you all and hearing back!
I am in my second year as a Special Education Teaching Fellow at Bronx Expeditionary Learning High School (BELHS). BELHS is part of a national network of Expeditionary Learning Schools supported by the Outward Bound organization. this year we will graduate our first class of seniors, which is very exciting! We are a public school, one of six in the enormous Taft Educational Campus (what used to be Taft High School before the small schools movement), and this is our first year as an Empowerment school - which basically means we work more independently through our principal having more budgetary control, but we have two years to show improvement in test scores or the city will intervene. To be quite honest, I have started to loose touch with what all of this means politically as I am dealing with the reality of this ultimatum of sorts in my school; in order to improve test scores, our students have lost almost all of their electives. Only eleventh and twelfth graders get a technology elective (which counts as art) and some get gym.
Last year, I worked in an inclusion setting as a collaborative team teacher. My class was a mix of general education students and special education students. I worked with the general education teachers to support the special education students. It was a challenge because I was working with three different subjects, Math, English, and Science, and over the course of the year worked with five different teachers as a result of my science co-teacher quitting her alternative certification program to go to Hunter for graduate school. I also was head of the Special Education department - by default ... one day I just started getting stuff in my mailbox and no one seemed to mind that I had zero experience. It was an overwhelming year.
This year, I am teaching my own class of 12 special education students. Most of my students are emotionally disturbed or have learning disabilities. Unlike my students from last year (whom I love and still work with as a co-teacher of tenth grade math), these kids are angels. Their emotional disabilities are evident in their hyper-sensitivity and irrational responses, but they are incredibly eager to please me and feel validated. My students last year were angry all the time, which led them to give up easily and not care if they succeeded academically or not (on the surface). My current students overwhelm me with "oooh pick me miss" and hands waving in my face and hugs. I almost feel like an elementary school teacher!
This year I was hoping to focus on my class rather than any leadership positions. I am teaching both math and science. Now, I have not taken a math class since high school and never did very well in the subject. While I love science, my background is in the humanities. I have more math anxiety than some of my students, so I thought that spending my time in my graduate classes and prepping for two subjects in which i have little to no experience would be enough. As of today though, no one else in the department is stepping up to be Sped. chair ... so it looks like I will be submitting my application. In addition to my Math class, my science class, my department responsibilities, and my graduate work, I also have an advisory group - the same students as last year - who are now tenth graders and think they run the place... a handful to say the least.
With all of this, I can say that I truly love my job. This year seems like it will be even more full than the last, but more satisfying. It is amazing what one year of experience can do for you when your school has just hired 14 new teachers, most of whom are first year teach for america and teaching fellows teachers. I am now a "veteran" teacher, but I hardly feel like I deserve the title! I am looking forward to sharing my experiences with you all and hearing back!
Friday, September 7, 2007
Greetings from Gun Hill Road
Hello all,
I hope that your fall is off to a great start. As always, I feel a pang of nostalgia at this time of the year, wishing I was spending my days as a college student and knowing the privilege of being at a place like Smith. This blog will serve as my connection.
I will make this introduction short and sweet. I grew up in a small town in Ohio, just south of Cleveland, where I attended a run-of-the-mill public school. It served me well, moved on to Smith, where I found a new world and level of education that I had never previously experienced. I graduated with a degree in sociology and joined Teach For America in New York City, teaching third grade for 2 years in Washington Heights. I then became a recruitment director for Teach For America, to inspire and move other outstanding college grads to join me in the mission to eliminate educational inequities. I like to say that my tombstone will say one thing- that is that I used my life to create equal access to educational opportunities for all students.
After working at Teach For America for three years, I moved on to become the Director of College Placement at the Bronx Lab School. We are a small school housed in the Evander Childs Campus, now serving 9-12th grades. This year will be our FIRST graduating class, and my repsonsibility is to ensure that all of the seniors apply and are accepted into college. Piece of cake, right? I used last year to get our "office" up and running and now this year I am leading the way to ensure that our students find the best fit for their post-graduate life. I like to think that I'm in the business of changing lives.
I look forward to your thoughts and questions and hope that you'll see one of my students at Smith next year!
Best,
Amy
I hope that your fall is off to a great start. As always, I feel a pang of nostalgia at this time of the year, wishing I was spending my days as a college student and knowing the privilege of being at a place like Smith. This blog will serve as my connection.
I will make this introduction short and sweet. I grew up in a small town in Ohio, just south of Cleveland, where I attended a run-of-the-mill public school. It served me well, moved on to Smith, where I found a new world and level of education that I had never previously experienced. I graduated with a degree in sociology and joined Teach For America in New York City, teaching third grade for 2 years in Washington Heights. I then became a recruitment director for Teach For America, to inspire and move other outstanding college grads to join me in the mission to eliminate educational inequities. I like to say that my tombstone will say one thing- that is that I used my life to create equal access to educational opportunities for all students.
After working at Teach For America for three years, I moved on to become the Director of College Placement at the Bronx Lab School. We are a small school housed in the Evander Childs Campus, now serving 9-12th grades. This year will be our FIRST graduating class, and my repsonsibility is to ensure that all of the seniors apply and are accepted into college. Piece of cake, right? I used last year to get our "office" up and running and now this year I am leading the way to ensure that our students find the best fit for their post-graduate life. I like to think that I'm in the business of changing lives.
I look forward to your thoughts and questions and hope that you'll see one of my students at Smith next year!
Best,
Amy
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Hello
It's a pleasure to be back in this "space" exchanging thoughts on teaching and learning with another group of Smithies. In the wilderness of my days, where it's demanded that we be alert, resourceful, and not stray too far from the compass, this is a sort of meditation. So thank you for a second year.
My name is Marina Galazidis and while I'm a NYC native, I had scant exposure to public schools while growing up. After getting my BA (English) from Bowdoin I was looking towards an MFA, or magazine writing at the very least, but was instead enlisted to work as a 3rd grade teacher at my alma mater, Saint Ann's School in Brooklyn. My first day of teaching was September 11, 2001. Sometime shortly after that I realized that I had arrived, in a sense. I spent 3 happy years at St. Ann's but really chaffed under some characteristics of both lower school and private school. I was also living just over an income level which would have made me eligible for food stamps. Oh the uncomfortable irony.
I can't even think about Smith without a hundred effusive adjetives, so let's fast forward to the High School of Arts and Technology @ Martin Luther King Jr. where I have been a 10th, 11th, and 12th grade English teacher (etc!) and Adviser for 3 years. As the large, underperforming schools were dissolved largely via a Klein initiative -- and MLK had an awful reputation made worse by a murder -- small, specialized schools like Arts and Tech opened on these "campuses" Because we have remained comparatively small and because I am now, remarkably, senior faculty, my responsiblities extend into quasi-administrative areas such as programing, policy building, and, most significantly, curriculum development. My pet project this year was to start a chapter of the National Honors Society and design an Honors English class. These students are like the fantasy draft picks of the school, balanced by my other senior class aptly called "Recovery" that's populated by all of the special education and ELL students as well as students who either need to make up English credit or did not pass the English Regents. My genuine affection extends to both of these classes and comparison is unreasonable, but for the purposes of this project I think this aspect of my schedule epitomizes the distance that urban teachers must span and I hope there's more opportunity to talk about this type of disparity in skill, motivation, parental involvement, etc. But I won't get ahead of myself.
Talk to you all soon!
My name is Marina Galazidis and while I'm a NYC native, I had scant exposure to public schools while growing up. After getting my BA (English) from Bowdoin I was looking towards an MFA, or magazine writing at the very least, but was instead enlisted to work as a 3rd grade teacher at my alma mater, Saint Ann's School in Brooklyn. My first day of teaching was September 11, 2001. Sometime shortly after that I realized that I had arrived, in a sense. I spent 3 happy years at St. Ann's but really chaffed under some characteristics of both lower school and private school. I was also living just over an income level which would have made me eligible for food stamps. Oh the uncomfortable irony.
I can't even think about Smith without a hundred effusive adjetives, so let's fast forward to the High School of Arts and Technology @ Martin Luther King Jr. where I have been a 10th, 11th, and 12th grade English teacher (etc!) and Adviser for 3 years. As the large, underperforming schools were dissolved largely via a Klein initiative -- and MLK had an awful reputation made worse by a murder -- small, specialized schools like Arts and Tech opened on these "campuses" Because we have remained comparatively small and because I am now, remarkably, senior faculty, my responsiblities extend into quasi-administrative areas such as programing, policy building, and, most significantly, curriculum development. My pet project this year was to start a chapter of the National Honors Society and design an Honors English class. These students are like the fantasy draft picks of the school, balanced by my other senior class aptly called "Recovery" that's populated by all of the special education and ELL students as well as students who either need to make up English credit or did not pass the English Regents. My genuine affection extends to both of these classes and comparison is unreasonable, but for the purposes of this project I think this aspect of my schedule epitomizes the distance that urban teachers must span and I hope there's more opportunity to talk about this type of disparity in skill, motivation, parental involvement, etc. But I won't get ahead of myself.
Talk to you all soon!
Introduction to the blog
Welcome to Grecourt to the NYC Chalkboard. This blog will be written by three magnificent Smith alumnae who are now teaching in NYC public schools. The focus of the blog will be on chronicling about their teaching experiences and reflecting with us on our course's core question: how do teachers, educators, and policy makers strive to provide quality educational experiences for youth when issues associated with a youth's social environment often present significant obstacles to teaching and learning.
In other words, our focus will on understanding how the issues facing urban educators are not merely educational issues but entwined in complex social, economic, and political circumstances.
While the question posed above invites us to analyze, deconstruct, interrogate, theorize and bring to the table all manner of high-minded intellectual analysis-- the world of schools is also fundmentally relational and human. This blog will also provide an opportunity for us to hear and correspond with three courageous and brilliant young teachers who have chosen to devote their efforts to working with youth. This blog will also give us access to the stories that comprise their lives.
Onward....
Sam
In other words, our focus will on understanding how the issues facing urban educators are not merely educational issues but entwined in complex social, economic, and political circumstances.
While the question posed above invites us to analyze, deconstruct, interrogate, theorize and bring to the table all manner of high-minded intellectual analysis-- the world of schools is also fundmentally relational and human. This blog will also provide an opportunity for us to hear and correspond with three courageous and brilliant young teachers who have chosen to devote their efforts to working with youth. This blog will also give us access to the stories that comprise their lives.
Onward....
Sam
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