Teach For America teacher blogs are on Teach For Us

Teach For America Video Blog #2

anjellaaxd — Sat, 18 May 2013 03:17:09 +0100

Finally, my long overdue video blog! Here I talk about the poetry club I started at Homestead Senior High and how it has been such an amazing platform on which students can stand and be heard. Towards the end, there is a video link to watch the spoken word piece my students inspired me to write! http://youtu.be/L-BB-XyugYo

Proud to be their teacher

anjellaaxd — Fri, 17 May 2013 21:36:07 +0100

As I returned to my classroom today, after a long day of testing, I noticed for the first time in a long time, "Our Big Goal" bulletin board that I put up on the very first day of school. It says "100% of students will pass the EOC exam". I meant to add 2 more goals, but after having drawn, cut out, and stapled each and every letter, I decided that that goal alone was big enough (TFA must be so disappointed). Since then my classroom has changed so much, but that board has always remained the same. I never really stop to look at it because I teach facing the other way, but the kids see it everyday. Today was the last day of our Geometry End of Course exam and I am 100% sure that we did not reach our goal. Let's just face it, not everyone of my kids will pass. But if I had mustered the strength to put up the other 2 goals, they would have been "100% of students will learn" and "100% of students will grow". Learn--not just of geometry, but of how a developing a quantitative/problem-solving mind is so integral to life. Grow--not just academically, but socially, and becoming wholesome and passionate individuals. These goals, they have 100% achieved. In the past year, I have seen my students transform from the stereotype. Those whom teachers labeled as "rotten" became sweet. Those who were "explosive" became contained and thoughtful. Those who were "lazy" became so hard-working. Those who were "unmotivated" became the most competitive. And those who just "didn't give a fuck" actually "gave a fuck". In my classroom, these labels dissolved, and I got the chance to see my students for who they really are. Kids. They are just kids. And I believe they have an intrinsic desire to learn no matter their extrinsic circumstances. I have witnessed this first-handedly. They are dream chasers, society changers, and transformation makers. They are the cure to the pandemic stereotype that infects their communities. They are my inspiration to become a better individual, and a better teacher to those who will come after. No matter what the outcome, they've past their test. And I am still so proud to be their teacher.

May May hurry up and go away

anjellaaxd — Thu, 02 May 2013 00:07:16 +0100

I'm sitting here in the Miami-Dade Campus Library maybe an hour away from Homestead. Why am I here? Well the past few days I've been driving up here to take one of my students to her Piano Slam rehearsal. Her poem was chosen out of 500 other poems all across Miami-Dade. She will be performing in front of 2000 people at the Adrienne Arsht Center for Performing Arts in downtown Miami tomorrow night at exactly this time. To say the least, I am so proud of her. But that pride is dampened by the fact that I won't be back until 11pm tonight, or tomorrow night. It's been a tough few weeks. With no breaks in April. Plus poetry club, competitions, field trips, and saturday school. I don't know why, but I feel like I'm on the verge of breakdown. If I were a cartoon right now, I'd imagine me with my veins and eyes popping out and my head about to explode. Every little thing gets to me. And I'm harsh, impatient, irritable, and snappy. "ooh Miss, you snappy today" "Miss, did you get enough sleep?" "Miss, are you okay? You seem tired." UM YES, tired is an understatement. And yea, I'm snappy because I have to deal with your lack of consideration and respect. And NO, I don't sleep. I don't eat. I don't stop. So stop bothering me and just do your work. Why is it that I care more about you passing the test than you do? Why should I care more about your education than you do? Why do I want this so badly for you? So why don't you do your homework? Why don't you see that you have 6 block days until your end-of-course exam and you still don't know the difference between 2-pi-r and pi-r-squared?? You want to know a teachers greatest heartbreak? When she puts her heart and soul into teaching and making sure students understand and then it goes in one ear and out the other. It's like she gave you her heart and you threw it away. I think I said those exact words to one of my classes this week. I don't know, it was a blur. And I'm pretty sure I shed some tears when a student didn't know the difference between area and circumference of a circle. I think I cracked and am still cracking. I thought it was supposed to get easier as the school year ends, but I feel like it's getting harder. I think that I'm just overworked. Poetry club everyday. Organizing all the field trips. Taking students to practice. I don't need to be doing these things and though I know there needs to be a line drawn, I don't really want to draw it. And it doesn't help that I'm surrounded by students every second, during my lunch, during my planning, after school. Recently I've started to lock my door just so I can have some peace. Literally every 5 minutes there is a knock on a door. I know they just want to visit and say hi and they are well-intentioned. But it's getting to the point where I'm just so annoyed with them. As the school year ends, my relationship with my students has become so much more personal and meaningful. I've become an important figure in their lives. Yet, because of that I'm taking things personally and I can't. That's why I've been so tired. This emotional exhaustion. It's coming to the point where I'm taking on my students' burdens. They tell me about their lives and I just can't detach. Especially with poetry club. We've become like a family. They call me "Mama Wu". I can't stop caring for them. Yet when I care for them, I start to neglect myself. Other teachers see how stressed I am. They tell me to just relax. And at this point, my students know what they know and it's really too late for them. I believe he said, "f- them. Just do what you gotta do. And honestly, your job is done." But I don't want to believe that. As much as I respect that other teacher, I believe his type of thinking is one that cripples the education system. At the same time, perhaps that's the very type of thinking that people adopt as a survival or coping mechanism. Make things seem less urgent and you'll seem like less of a failure if you don't meet those standards. But that's not how I work. I can't just slow down and lose momentum. I compare it to when I go on a jog and I'm on my last lap when all of a sudden I'm hit with a wave of "OMG, I can't do this, I just want to slow down. I just want to walk" but then again you think "no, can't do that, Angela, you have to run this. now is not the time to slow down. You are so close. You're almost there. matter what you do, keep running. you can do this." And normally I do, but I finish gasping and trying to inhale the whole world. So this is my last lap. And though I can see the finish line from a distance, I can't slow down. If anything, I need to run even faster. Come on, you can do this. Just keep running. No matter what you do, don't stop.

Free Hugs Movement

anjellaaxd — Sun, 28 Apr 2013 21:43:31 +0100

My poetry club students decided to do something special last week. After the incident where I started crying, they all pretty much got into their feelings. After our meeting, they went up to City Year (and anyone who crossed their path) and just gave them hugs. The next day, M, our club president came up to me with a brilliant idea: Free Hugs signs! So that's what we did. I told them that they might get made fun of, people might give them weird looks, but they have to be strong. If they want to make change, they have to stand their ground and do what they believe in. No matter what, don't take off your sign. At the end of the day, there were a few who took off their signs, but most stood in their belief. They told me it was hard, that people called them gay, gave them funny looks, or tricked them into getting hugs just to embarass them, but they didn't care. What they cared more for was that they started a rippling effect. They were spreading love throughout the school. They are what I call, BRAVE. Check out this video that M made!

Letting your kids see you cry

anjellaaxd — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 23:34:55 +0100

you know that feeling of being so tired that you just want to cry? and no matter how hard you try, you can't pinpoint why? well, that happened today after school as my poetry club was walking into my classroom. They saw it coming, so they starting cleaning my classroom for me. Then it came. I just couldn't hold it back, not sure where it came from but it just needed to come out. I left the room because I didn't want them to see me like that. When I came back, they had left to practice in the auditorium. I pulled myself together and snuck in the back. I observed them as they did an exercise where they put a poetic twist on what they had just witnessed: true human emotion. They started yelling out "I'm tired of this pain, lies, backstabbing" "I'm tired of people not living out who they ought to be" "I'm tired" of this "I'm tired" of that. Then they started talking about me, and how even though I am a teacher, I'm just like them. I have emotions too. Then Tommy all of a sudden raised his hands and said they should all go and see if I was okay. Many chimed in yes, and others said no, to let me be. Because my classroom was my haven, just like a bedroom where you go to when you're upset. That was then I started crying again. This time, not because I was tired, but because I was so moved by how much they care about me and about each other. By how they can take from an experience and channel it into art. They have grown so much in such a short time. These kids are amazing. They are my inspiration. Love poetry club ]

My 15-Year-Old Baby

anjellaaxd — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 03:00:03 +0100

In my class, I have 2 pregnant girls. One recently gave birth and the other is due in May. I've never thought much of it, teenage pregnancy. I guess I just didn't know how to react. I mean I let them go pee the 10 times they need, I ask how they're feeling, and I treat them as fragile(y?) as I can. A few weeks ago, one of the girls brought her baby to school. I'm not sure how I looked on the outside, but on the inside I was freaked out. Babies freak me out. Something about their small and delicate their fingers and their squishiness just gives me the heebie jeebies. I'm pretty sure I said this verbatim, "wow, he, um, it's a boy right? He's so beautiful.(awkward pause) Ok, bye baby". Awkward But today, I thought about it some more. How would I feel if those girls were my daughters? So I wrote a poem (I've been really inspired by my poetry club students). Please know that this does not come from a place of judgement. I'm just putting myself in a place of a mother (which I feel like I am to many of my students)

you’re 15 years old

and you want to prove that you’re grown

so you go and have a baby

but darling maybe, just maybe

the definition of being a lady,

is showing class

not your ---

It’s working hard in school

rather than letting boys work you as tools

It’s being on top rather than having someone on top of you

It is speaking your mind

rather than have it muffled under the pillow

silent screaming fading as the wind blows

I know that at this age your heart is fragile

you feel like a prisoner in your own glass castle

shackled with heavy chains

you try to make your steps light

try to break free

but the suffocation is so tight

and if your transparent heart falls

you might shatter it all

into a million broken pieces

that leave you restless and peaceless

so you try to piece them back neatly

but shards cut you more deeply

your desperation, bleeding,

for peace you are pleading

you are 15 years old

beautiful, full of potential

and you’ve sacrificed your life

for the one that’s growing inside

If I had a daughter and she were 15 years old

I’d say to her, go out and play

run across fields on a hot summer day

drinking in the sun-kissed lemonade

and yes, yes.

boys? they can wait

you’re a child, so go have childhood

still too young, unprepared for motherhood

i’m sure there are kids who will play with you in our neighborhood

i know you’re timid, but don’t be afraid

you may not feel it, but know that you’re so brave

do not let anyone put you down

or make you feel unworthy

you’ve got to stand your ground

My 15 yr old baby

please stop your hurry

allow yourself this freedom from worry

My 15 yr old baby

please stop your hurry

soon you will grow into a beautiful young lady

My 15 yr old baby

please stop your hurry

remember you’re still only my baby

Two Different Worlds

anjellaaxd — Sun, 07 Apr 2013 02:01:23 +0100

"Wow! Look at that airplane!" "What? You've never seen a plane take off before?" "Not like that, only in the movies" Last Thursday, I went up north to Miami (about an hour and a half away) with some students from the poetry club. We were going to an informational session for a competition that is coming up in mid-April. It was an eye-opening experience, for them as well as for me. Though they live in Miami-Dade County, they have never been to the city nor the beach. A plane was taking off as we drove past the airport. They all freaked out because they had only seen that in the movies. At first, I thought it was cute. Then it hit me that they have no exposure to the outside world. We continue driving and B points out that his homeless shelter was somewhere around. Whoa, I didn't expect him to be so open and point that out. I didn't want to make it awkward so I asked how long he had to live there. He had been homeless for 4 months and he hated it because everyday a schoolbus would take him to school and he was the only one on it. The subject was changed, but I stored it in my heart. We make it to the event and they got to interact with some students from another poetry club. It was inspiring getting to hear from students from other schools. One was even encouraging our students to go to college. He related mostly to B because he too wanted to be a rapper. He then said that being a rapper is all about the connections you make and that college is a place for those connections. That college can only be a good thing because it will provide opportunities to so much more. B resisted at first, but started to be open to the idea. They saw a few performances and were awed, humbled, and inspired. It was such a great way to get them exposed to different types of performances and to have them interact with people whom they would never have the chance to interact with. After, we went to subway to grab dinner. At first they were hesitant and suggested the Burger King dollar menu. I told them no, and not to worry because I would treat them. They were, I guess you can say, shocked that I, a teacher would do such a thing. I told them, it's no big deal, they deserved it. When we arrived, B stayed in the back. I asked him what he wanted. He told me that he never ordered. Usually people order for him and just give him whatever. Perhaps he was saying that because he had never had subway and didn't want to be embarassed or perhaps not. Another one of my students got so excited that he could put any topping in his sandwich that he got meatballs as well as chicken. I looked at the guy who made the sandwich and he gave me the "its-ok-i-understand" look. We went to sit down after we all got our sandwiches. They were all so giddy. I started opening mine to eat and I saw F just observing. I asked, what's wrong? He said, "this is so surreal. Never did I think I would be up north, in a subway, with you, B, M, and B." And I thought about it. It was pretty surreal. But I told him, "see, poetry brings people together. We are like family now. This is a family dinner." As I said that, I could see the atmosphere change. That was when we became a family. We started eating and sharing conversation when B stopped. There was a man outside who kept on staring at him. The man was homeless. B told me that he felt bad and was going to give him half of his sandwich because he knows how it feels to be hungry. I told him he didn't have to and that I would buy him a new one. After we finished, we went to go look for the man to ask if he wanted a sandwich, but he was no where to be found so B left his sandwich outside. I asked, "what he no one gets it? wouldn't that be a waste?" He said, "no, if he's hungry, he'll find it". I asked him, "how come you didn't eat your cookies? (he had been super excited for them earlier)" He said he was bringing them back for his siblings. I came home that night, bawling to my roommate. It's not fair that they have to go through what they go through. We live such different worlds. And a meal that I take for granted is something that they treasure. I can't imagine B homeless, scavenging the ground for food. I can't imagine running away and spending two nights outside of Wal-mart to get some change. I can't imagine doing at that just 17 years old. But this is the reality. And that day, I got a piece of it. What inspires me the most is that these students are able to take whatever hardship and painful experience and channel it into something beautiful. That no matter the ache, they take it and make art. Inspiring. Beautiful. Powerful. I got to see their hearts that day and it broke mine. This poetry club never came at a better time.

"Dear Students"

anjellaaxd — Sun, 07 Apr 2013 01:18:56 +0100

About a little over a month ago, some students came to me to start a poetry club. Shortly after, "Raison d'etre" (Reason for existing) was created. We started meeting everyday until 4pm after school. It's been so amazing being around these students. They are inspiring, courageous, and talented, all at the same time. And for them to offer me a piece of their heart through poetry is so amazing. Even though I did Speech and Debate in high school and did Oral Interpretation, I've never done Spoken Word. So these students inspired me to write my first spoken word poem. I performed it a few weeks ago and they FREAKED out (in a good way). It addresses some of the issues that I see daily about them, their school, and the education system.

Dear students,

why are you so occupied with everything but school?

your name, your status, worried if you seem cool

don’t you see that the more you play in this viscious game,

the more you drive real people away?

I see you daily

creating drama over your own infidelities

fighting over petty things

when the very thing you should be fighting for

is your right to have more

quality, thus equality

I’m talking about your education

because this education system is split

the rich from the poor

survival of the fit

you see in other schools

their expectations are high

but in this school,

you’re only expected to get high

in other schools their battles are of the bands

in this school, fights stir up from different clans

dance is to express

not to undress

art is a form

through which to stand out, not conform

and i agree, school may seem

like a testing ground a laboratory

research for genetic modification

creating a generation of mutants

learning how to pass a test

but learning absolutely nothing at best

and even I feel like I’m being poked and prodded

but pointing will neither help nor solve it

so here I am trying to start a movement

turning that experiment into a revolution

change over time, an evolution

so can’t you see that this is beyond geometry

i’m not just a math teacher, i’m a preacher

my classroom’s my pulpit

the school is my church

telling you that though you are created from dirt, that is not your worth

telling you that there is a battle for not just your mind, but your soul

so are you going to be one of those

wounded by foes

or are you going to use every loss and failure as stepping stones

to rise

to captivate and not be captured

to fight

against hatred, but not each other

to create

opportunities when there are none

to inspire and inquire

to be curious and wonder

to satiate your intellectual hunger

or are you going to sit back and smoke up

because you think that all you’ll ever do is fuck up?

Darling, your playing small does nothing at all

and the only thing you should settle for

is nothing short, of greatness

so believe in yourself, as I believe in you

and really, all you have to do is choose

not to let darkness dim your light

so be strong, carry on, and fight the good fight

©Angela Wu

J in Jail

anjellaaxd — Sun, 07 Apr 2013 01:08:05 +0100

J is a student of mine. He is 18 years old, a sophomore, has a 2 year old son, and is currently in jail. I found out one morning through a student who showed me his mugshot which was posted onto facebook. There was a huge fight between 2 rival gangs at my school. 11 students were arrested. He was one of them. Just the day before, he came to visit my classroom during my planning period. He had misplaced his homework and needed another copy. He also wanted extra review because he had been suspended the previous week. I told him that I was upset at him because of his behavior in class earlier that day. I told him that he played around too much and that he needs to not just think of himself, but about others in the classroom as well. That his playing around cost other's their education because he was being a disruption. Basically I told him that he needs to stop f-ing around and get his act together. I gave him his homework and told him to go to class. That was the last thing I said to him. The next day I found out he was arrested and charged for battery. Just when he started to work and get his act together, he gets himself in this mess. What if, instead of kicking him out, I talked to him and helped him see the importance of his education? What if he really needed to tell me something? What if I could have done something to help prevent the incident from occurring? I know I can't beat myself up. But I can't help but think that J was one of the students I invested most of myself into. I remember coming back from Christmas break (and dreading it) to a x-mas card he had placed in my mailbox. It said:

"Dear Ms. Wu, It is a pleasure to be in your because because you make it interesting, not like other teachers. You made me like geometry and that's why I do it even though I can be a clown sometimes. Anyway, have a great Christmas Break!

Sincerely, J"

J was the one who gave me hope. That if he of all people liked my class, there had to be more who do.

What hurts me the most as a teacher is that I have no way of communicating with him. He has withdrawn from school and his number is disconnected. All I want to do is talk to him.

Bullies Called Him Porkchop

anjellaaxd — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 22:19:34 +0100

Last week, our school held it's first slam poetry night. To say the least, I was blown away. For the very first time, I got to hear students' voices through art. And though there is no arts program here, these students were nothing less than creative, dramatic, and inspiring. Though not many people went to the show, those who did go were extremely supportive. In the midst of someone messing up, the audience stood up and cheered him on. THAT is the culture I seek to create in my classroom and THAT is the culture I seek to spread throughout my school. The next day, I shared my experiences with my classes. I told them that for the first time, I was able to see students' hearts and their thoughts. To be able to showcase your heart is something that takes immense courage, especially if your heart is in pieces. However, that is what the performers did. They sent the message, "here's my heart, take and see. It may not be perfect, it may be broken. But that's okay because I want you to know that you aren't alone in this". I then showed them this video about a guy who used to be bullied. Instead of wallowing in hurt and negativity, he took that pain and produced something beautiful and powerful. That is what I aim to instill in my students. I know they experience hardship daily, whether in school, or at home. But it's not about going through hardship, it's about being able to turn the tables and use that hardship to elevate yourself, to empower yourself and others. Here's the video. Please share this with your students! http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=ltun92DfnPY When the video ended, the room was so quiet. I knew that the message had really hit their hearts. I allowed a few more seconds before I turned the lights back on and when I did, I noticed a few watery eyes. In my 6th period, one of my students had to leave the classroom crying because it spoke so much about her life. I talked to all my classes about it, and as they shared their thoughts, I realized how human they are. I asked if they could relate to this video or if they knew people who could relate, and they all said yes. There were a few who immediately shook their heads, but I know it was because they did not want to be judged. I told them that I could relate to this video. One student asked me if I was bullied when I was little. I said no, but now that I think of it, I think I was. There were a few individuals who made my middle and high school life miserable and that defined who I was for a long time. But I told him that even if I wasn't bullied, I know the feeling of not being comfortable to be yourself, to be smiling on the outside, but hurting on the inside. I know how it feels to live in shame, guilt, and in pain. I know how it feels to have your heart cut open. I told them that they shouldn't feel ashamed about their lives, or about what has happened in their lives. Instead, use that pain to inspire. That is the most powerful. As my background is in psychology, I shared a psychological study on pain. Researchers took individuals that came from physically abusive or emotionally abusive households. They did a brain scan on both and found that when someone was physically beaten or verbally abused, the same part of their brain triggered. I asked my class what this meant and one student so eloquently put it, "two different causes, but the same effect". Beautiful. Then I asked them, which is worse? One student, who had his head down the whole time (usually I would address this, but I didn't know what was going on in his mind) lifted his head and said, emotional, because it's unseen. Now, his response awed me not so much because of what he said because it's true, but the fact that he would even say it. This kid entered my class in January because for the first half of the year, he had be in jail for robbery. He wears an ankle bracelet, signifying that he is under house arrest. He is affiliated with a gang and the threatening way he looks at me gives me a chill down my spine. So when he said that, I jumped up in excitement. YES! Because when you break your arm, you can put a cast on it and it will heal, but when you have a cut on your heart can you put a bandaid over it? And so because it is unseen, people think that it's not there, so they ignore it. They feel it, but they don't know what to do with it. So they start to build walls to protect their hearts. Not just walls, but barbed wires and electric fences. And though they keep out the bad, they also keep out the very good that can heal a heart: love. This is how people fall into depression. Because their walls are so enforced that even if they are surrounded by love, they can't feel it. Love is in vain if one cannot receive. I'm so proud of my students because when they come inside the classroom, they are able to let those walls down. This is evidenced by their helping each other. But I know that the second they walk out of my door, those walls have to come up again. I don't blame them because I would be terrified walking through the same hallways they walk through each day. But this is something that I want them to be aware of. That as they walk through the hallways, they are passing through people with open wounds. "Everyone has a story" as one of them put it. So one comment, even though it may be funny, may actually be another gash to the heart. I told them that this is why I teach at Homestead, because there is a lot of change that can be made. But it starts with the individual and gradually ripples out. I told them to be cogniscent of what they say and what they hear. Even if they don't directly put people down, them laughing at a mean joke encourages and fuels this hatred that goes on. I asked them if they can help me make that change. They all nodded. As February is ending, I'm starting to see a change in my students. I see it most in R, a student who is infamous for wondering the hallways last year because he would get kicked out by his teachers. The first day I met R, I knew why. I thought that he was rude, immature, and would just always play around. I heard from other students that he would always get into fights because he would bully other kids. He was also bullied himself. They call him "coffee" because of his dark complex. They tease him everyday and to protect himself, he became a bully. I started being more attentive to him, always helping and directing him first before the class. I found that his short attention span was not something he could control. And it wasn't that he didn't want to do the work, but he needed to be proven that he could do the work before he went ahead and did it. It was a confidence issue. Things with R started getting better. There were less calls made home (his mother was starting to feel hopeless). Then, a few weeks ago, the change started happening. He would pop his head into my classroom afterschool, perhaps out of curiosity. He saw that my classroom was always filled with students. He would never come in though. He did that almost everyday until finally one day I called him in and told him that we would work on homework together. Ever since then, he has been in my classroom either helping me or doing his homework. Last Friday I took him home and right as he left, he said, "alright thank you and love you ms. wu". I thought I didn't hear correctly. I looked at my rearview mirror to make sure it was him who said it, but he was gone. But those words ring out in my memory. I'm sitting here and I still can't believe that happened. But it's quite simple actually. He just needed to know that someone cares. That's it.