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.
To the NYC Chalkboard
Sunday, October 28, 2007
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.
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