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.
To the NYC Chalkboard
Thursday, December 6, 2007
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.
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