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.
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