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Fired Up

Laleh M. — Mon, 13 May 2013 18:34:30 +0100

This weekend I was able to help administer tests to incoming scholars in order to determine if they would benefit from extra help during our summer school session. It made me see more than ever that educational inequity is plainly evident and is all around us. The literature says that students in high-need areas come into Kindergarten already behind their peers in more affluent neighborhoods. Then, if the proper support isn't set in place, they fall even more behind their wealthier counterparts as they graduate from grade to grade. High-need students coming into Kindergarten can be behind for countless reasons: their family may not have been able to afford a top-notch daycare or pre-school program, their parents may work longer hours and are thus not exposed to the same amount of words and interaction, and they may not own the same amount of books and educational material in their homes. This literature all became alive as I administered the tests this weekend, and it was especially evident for the incoming kindergarten students. The first question of the the test was to write out their name on the line provided. Far less than half of the incoming students could perform this task. During the test, I began to think about the 4 year old girl that I babysit. She still has a summer and a full year until she begins kindergarten. And this girl, well, she can spell her name perfectly and legibly. This paints a perfect picture of the uphill battle high-need students face. This 4 year old is being raised in one of the most affluent neighborhoods of my city, she attends an excellent pre-school for 3 days a week, she has countless books at her disposal and at least 2 to 3 books are read to her every night, and lastly, her parents mainly work from their home and are able to have conversations with her throughout the day. These experiences allow this 4 year old the ability to enter kindergarten at or above grade level. She contrasts sharply with the incoming students to my school who are already behind before they even step foot into the door of their kindergarten classroom. Comparing these two realities fuels my drive to teach more than ever. I am so ready for the school year to begin so that I can get to work for these deserving students. They may enter my classroom behind, but they will leave ahead.

4:00 am...the perfect time for a run?

Laleh M. — Thu, 09 May 2013 16:09:47 +0100

I'm addicted to running. I can't imagine life without it. However, it is extremely time consuming. Each day I go out for a run that can be anywhere from 1 hour to 2.5 hours. Often, I think about how I could be using that more than 10 hours per week to complete other items on my agenda. Nevertheless, I love running. So I lace up and go. When did my addiction start you ask? Well, it all started with my big brothers who realized I had some potential and encouraged me to run around the neighborhood with them. Once I started officially competing in track my 7th grade year, I was hooked. I ran throughout high school and was eventually recruited to run for the University of Texas. When I graduated from UT this past December, I didn't know what my future running would look like. That is, until I ran my first marathon. After racing for a grueling 26.2 miles at the Houston Marathon in January (and it paying off with some prize money!), it cemented my desire to keep running competitively. Since graduation, however, running has been much harder than it was in the past. I no longer have my team beside me, I don't have a coach yelling at me when I slow down, and I have less time with my 40+ hour work week. While it's much harder now to get out and run, I can't imagine what it will be like in August once I start teaching. A veteran educator and avid runner told me, "Oh don't worry, it's definitely do-able. I get up at 4:00 am every morning to start my run; you'll be able to do it." 4:00 am?! That's right, he said 4:00 am. He said it's best to do it before school, so you have all evening for planning and grading. Getting up at that early every morning seems simply unfathomable. While I am hopefully not going to be joining the 4:00 am crowd, I am anxious to see how running will fit into my schedule next year as a first year teacher. I think it will add a constant to my life that I'll desperately need during my crazy two year adventure with TFA. Here's to hoping there's a good block in my day for a run, just NOT at 4:00 am. [caption id="attachment_96" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="The final stretch of my first marathon...SO TIRED!"][/caption]

24 more days...

Wed, 08 May 2013 01:38:26 +0100

Yes, I'm counting the days until the end of the year. Yes, I am all countdown/tested/retesting'd out. The kids are checked out as well. We need to get through the next week and we're home free. We'll get to finish our dinosaur unit and start on our physics unit. The kids are looking forward to it, and I'll just be glad to get back to some creative teaching instead of all this test prep. On another note, one of my students might have gotten a girl pregnant. As of yesterday, it was just a rumor, but he came in today and stated something along the lines of "I'm going to be a father." I didn't pay much attention to him as we were in the throes of test prep, but he mentioned it in passing several times. I am going to ask him what's going on tomorrow. Did I mention he's not even 13 yet? Yeah....

of fists and fathers.

stickyfingers — Tue, 07 May 2013 05:53:59 +0100

It's an unfortunately familiar scene in my classroom - one of my students raising their hand, fist balled, ready to land a punch in a dispute over a cup of crayons or the last available tricycle. When you're caught in a classroom that bounces back and forth between two distinct languages and it's your first time interacting with 21 other children who are the same age, have the same needs, and want the same toys it can be understandably difficult to remember to 'use your words' each and every time that someone makes you upset. It's part of why this year for me has become so much more about socioemotional development as opposed to rote memorization of letter sounds or numbers; my kids can't be functioning students if they don't have basic impulse control. Kindergarten preparedness has become a lot more about developing each unique person and his or her way of thinking about the world around them than what I initially felt should be a tightly run, smoothly packaged Hooked on Phonics environment. So that being said, when J went to hit a classmate I quickly intervened by placing my hand over his and reaffirming, "We use our hands to help, not hit. Please use your words if there is a problem." Usually that little pause in the process is enough to bring a student back to the classroom and, if nothing else, avoid a confrontation. But in this instance, something in J was relentless. He is my tallest boy and largest student (keeping in mind that everyone is five-years-old or younger) but I wasn't expecting him to push me back and start pounding into the arm, shoulder, and stomach of the girl. She immediately screamed and began to back away, but at this point J had seemingly lost all control and I had lost my collected demeanor. In my head I knew that we were always to frame instructions in a positive way (i.e. "Walk, please!" instead of "Don't run!") because developmentally telling a preschooler not to do something always ends up in them curiously trying to determine why you prohibited it in the first place. But in this instance, I was trying to regain my balance and stave off the barrage of punches J was throwing: "NO! NO! Stop, J, stop please! Stop we can't hit! J, please stop!" I pulled him from the now-wailing classmate and attempted to carry him to the benches on our playground where I always try to talk sense with my kids. They're young, but they can have conversations about basic rights and wrongs of recess behavior. But something was different; he began assailing me, the ground, and screaming "NO!" right back into my face. He was flailing wildly and I was so caught off-guard; I could feel his anger but I also didn't want him to risk hurting himself or another student. I got him to the bench and felt the wave of energy shift. Like a star collapsing on itself, he briefly suspended all retaliation and went limp in my arms. I loosened my grip and waited for him to cool off, expecting the normal plummet in a student's hostile behavior once they've been separated from the situation that was causing the anxiety. But then something burst. He screamed and fell to the ground, trying to scrabble through my legs and back to the playground. It felt like he was attempting to escape but I honestly couldn't figure out from what; part of me felt like he didn't know either. There I was, clearly capable of out-strengthening him, holding onto a pant leg as he desperately attempted to flee. After what couldn't have been more than three seconds, I let go and watched as he tore off, sprinting with no regard for his surroundings until he hid himself next to a small tree planted in a secluded corner of the playground. The entire area is fenced in-I knew he wouldn't be able to leave-but the entire episode felt so spontaneous and powerful, like a lightning bolt, that I couldn't just let him sit behind the tree, hunched over and holding back tears. He eventually removed himself from the area and sidled up to me. He didn't say anything and I was at a loss - until he just wrapped his arms around my leg and pushed his face into my thigh. It was a painful reminder of just how young my students are; how much developing they have left and how much practice they need in explaining what can feel to us like basic thoughts or emotions. But it is also a reminder that despite their youth my kids do feel and there is no amount of culture-building or expectation-holding I can possess that will prevent that. I later found out that J's father had been deported right around the time of this incident. It is the second time in a month-and-a-half that one of my boys has had his dad removed from the country. When I initially sat down to write this post, I had intended on its focus being J's dad and the fact that my Head Start classroom is funded by our government; the same government that put time and effort into deporting the fathers of my students. I am not going to pretend like I'm well-informed or a knowledgeable viewpoint on immigration or current reform efforts occurring. I don't think I could pretend to do enough research before writing this post to make an articulate point on it. All I'm saying is I have two very sad little boys who are both very confused and very upset about the fact that they don't know where their papi went and are not getting answers as to when they will see him again. I'm really putting time and effort into making them feel loved and welcomed in the room and I actually see E, the other boy, making tremendous progress. But I am curious as to what I can and should offer to a student whose life has been so incredibly altered at a time when they are undergoing immense development.

What should they call me?

Laleh M. — Mon, 06 May 2013 16:24:49 +0100

So, of course as part of Teach for America my number one focus is fighting educational inequity, though I can't help but wonder...what will my students call me? My last name is long, and I mean LONG. It is 15 letters: Mojtabaeezamani (pronounced Moe-ch-ta-by-ee-za-ma-knee). It's hard for most adults to master, so can I really expect a group of 2nd graders to be able to pronounce it? Since I received a 2nd grade teaching position, in the back of my mind has been how in the world am I going to introduce myself? I can just imagine standing in front of 24 seven to eight-year-olds saying "Hello, I'm Miss. Mojtabaeezamani; I'm excited you are here to learn," and being replied to with a blank stare of confusion. What's more is that I didn't even learn how to spell my own last name until 3rd grade. Am I to expect my students to spell a 15 letter word when that is extremely beyond a 2nd grade level? Growing up, my teachers let me simply write "Laleh M." on all my work, with the exception of my third grade teacher who insisted everyone spell out their name in its entirety. While I grapple with something so simple as what will my students call me-though I should really be focused on more important things such as passing the TExES and completing my Institute pre-work-I can't help but go through the possibilities. I think back to when I was in school and the names kids produced as variations of my name. There was "Moe-she-ish-ee-mani," "Won't-you-buy-me-some-money" (from a particularly creative friend of mine), "Mitsubishi," "Montezumi," and the list goes on of many more equally wrong variations. Though my last name is difficult, I can't change it. I have thought about shortening it to simply Miss. Zamani. Or perhaps just using the first letter, "Miss. M," but I am not sure if "Miss. M" is too informal in the scholarly atmosphere that my school cultivates. Well, I guess all I can do is wait for that day when I walk down the aisle! One of the things I look forward to most in thinking about marriage is a name change! I'm hoping for something simple, like Smith. Or Lee. One syllable is preferred, but two syllables would be acceptable.

Year Two.

KCMO Chief — Mon, 06 May 2013 03:23:16 +0100

This entire year flew by that I never even updated this blog. Well, after reading my old posts I cannot even believe I came back to Kansas City to teach at the same school in the same grade. I. Loved. almost. Every. Day. This. Year. In three weeks school will be over and I will return home. Would you believe it if I told you my kids make me cry, but not because of their behavior, but because I will miss them? There is so much more to be said about my thoughts and opinions on Teach For America and urban education, which I will share for new corps members, but for tonight, I reflect on my experience. These past two years were like a roller coaster that I've never been on before. I'm talking scarier than the scariest roller coaster at Cedar Point. So many highs, and even more lows. However, these past two years I gained great, beautiful friends, found independence, learned the truth about persevering and impacted my community that I have grown to love. I am blessed to have had the opportunity to challenge myself while challenging my students.

Learning Patience

Laleh M. — Fri, 03 May 2013 16:07:49 +0100

I thought the couple of months leading up to my acceptance into Teach for America had been nerve-wrecking and hectic. There was the application that I kept reading over and over thinking there was some major typo I was overlooking. Then, there was the phone interview and online activity (I can't remember which came first, it all kind of blends together now!). Last, there was the final, in-person interview-which is really like a more than half-day extravaganza. I didn't take the interview as seriously as I should have (at that point, I thought I was committing to an education program in Boston), so my nerves weren't too bad. It was fun to see what other people had come up with for their lesson plans and get to know more people passionate about education. However, this pre-acceptance process doesn't even compare to the post-acceptance process! There are so many deadlines for getting forms turned in, etc., and it's all so exciting that I stress if I cannot complete whatever the action item is right away. The most anxiety-inducing part of it all though has been school placement. TFA stresses to us not to worry about school placement, that everyone has a classroom waiting for them and will eventually be placed in one. Naturally though, in an organization filled with so many highly motivated, type A people...almost everyone worries about it! We have a Facebook group for 2013 CMs (Corps Members) in DFW, and the favorite topic of discussion is most definitely interviews and who is placed in what school. We were told that interviews would start in February and to keep your phone by you so you don't miss an opportunity. I took that VERY seriously. I had my phone with me 24/7 for more than a month. At work, it was right next to my keyboard. It came inside the bathroom (too much information?). I took it on every workout. It went everywhere. Towards the end of February, I started to think that the TFA staff was just behind and hadn't started interviews yet. Then, I had a conversation with a fellow CM and realized they had started setting people up with interviews because she had already had one (and with the school I desperately wanted to be placed). I was devastated. I began to prepare for the worst and was thinking to myself that the staff did say some people wouldn't be placed until the summer. I needed to be patient. Then, scrolling through some TFA materials, I realized that I had made my resume wrong. An announcement said do NOT list Teach for America on your resume, since the principals hiring us already know we are in it and the space could be used to highlight another experience. I couldn't believe I had made such a mistake by not seeing this resume announcement. I resubmitted my resume - and voilà! - within a week, TFA had set up my interview. I was beside myself when the phone rang and I saw it was a TFA staff member. I was at work and scrambled for a pen and paper--almost dropping everything as I scurried to a private room. They told me the details, I would interview within a week with a school leader opening up a brand new elementary school named Uplift Triumph Prep. I began to research the Uplift Education network and immediately fell in love. Their mission and key principles aligned perfectly with my beliefs on education. It was perfect--and I was nervous that they wouldn't think I was adequate for such an amazing school. I interviewed on a Wednesday morning with the most amazing school leader (a former CM in the Rio Grande Valley) and got the job on the spot! I thought I didn't hear her right and for some reason she wasn't really offering me the job. But the words "I'd like for you to be a founding teacher with us" were pretty clear in hindsight. It was a great morning! Then... I hung up the phone, turned back on my call waiting, and realized I had about 15 missed calls from my boyfriend and his mom. He had broken his collar bone in 4 places that morning on a bike ride and was in the hospital. That was a HUGE swing of emotions. I went from over the top elated to incredibly worried. Once things calmed down over the next few weeks, I was able to visit my future school and reflect on how truly blessed I am to have the opportunity to teach with Uplift Education. August 6th can't get here soon enough!

86%

Laleh M. — Wed, 01 May 2013 20:11:53 +0100

I've never been more happy to receive a B. An 86%. 120/140. I remember back to my 10th grade year of high school when I received my first B and was absolutely devastated. It was in a Biology course, and I was convinced the world was ending. Fast forward to college, and the occasional B was still disappointing but my coping skills had improved! Now, fast forward further to life after college, and I am thrilled to receive a B. The past couple of months have been consumed with studying for the TExES EC-6 Generalist Exam. Basically, I cannot teach if I don't pass this certification test. You have to get an 80 on it to be deemed "highly qualified" and able to enter the classroom in August. I had been spending all my spare moments studying for this test, but was not seeing any results. Continually, I was getting in the 70's on my practice tests - 70, 71, 74, 78. I was starting to question my intelligence after so many poor grades. Friends who had already taken the test were telling me how easy it was, and how they barely studied at all. Then, I realized that these friends were all Education majors and had spent many of their college years reviewing this material. So, I just kept plowing on, putting in the time for a good score. Finally, two study books (special thank you to CliffNotes, their book was extremely helpful!) and countless flashcards later, I received over an 80. Of course, I want to be completely confident on test day so the studying doesn't end now. May 20th will be the day that decides my future in the classroom! Countdown: 19 days until my certification test. 1 month and 9 days until INDUCTION!!! So excited! 1 month and 15 days until Institute-where I'll start student teaching in Houston. 3 months and 5 days until I begin teaching my very own class of 2nd grade scholars!

Books rule!

eminnm — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 23:57:26 +0100

Here’s my favorite adorable kid thing that happened today. We are reading Holes as a class, and my kids LOVE IT. They keep taking it home to read ahead, and even though this is a book about a year above most of their reading levels, they are reading and comprehending it anyway through the sheer power of loving it so much. Today we had standardized testing literally all day, from 8:30 am until 2:30 pm, which was not so nice. But here’s the adorable: Brandon finishes his reading test a little early. He starts to read Holes. Five minutes later, frantically calls me over. “Ms. EMinNM! Look! Look! ‘A skeletal hand in an orange jumpsuit reached out from under the boat.’ THERE’S SOMEONE UNDER THERE!” “Whoa! Better keep reading to find out who!” I whisper, unable to tell him off for making noise during testing. Two pages later: “Ms. EMinNM! Look! It’s ZERO!” Ten minutes later we are done and the whole class is lining up for lunch. There’s Brandon, still at his desk, engrossed in his book. I remind him it’s time to leave. “Just one more minute!” The rest of the class starts leaving, and he sighs and starts to follow them. Then the line stops, held up behind another class in the hallway. And there goes Brandon, inching back to his desk to read just one more paragraph. This is my favorite thing ever. This kid has some learning disabilities, and he really struggles with focusing and understanding what he’s reading independently. But today he was SO INCREDIBLY EXCITED, and all about a book. Books rule.

I've been holding it in...Boys stink

NorthernerInNashville — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 03:21:27 +0100

As any teacher will tell you, each class has a different personality. You may teach the same grade for 30 years, but each class will have some characteristic that makes them different from the one before or the one after. My first year teaching my 4th grade girls drove me crazy with their cliques and mean girl attitudes. There was a stretch in there where weave was rolling down the hallways like tumbleweed after a girl fight. One girl latched her nails into another girls weave and managed to lift her off the floor. At the end of that year, I thought "Man. Eight years of all girl's education did not prepare me for this. Bring me a class of boys." Well, ask and ye shall receive. My second year in 4th grade was probably my favorite overall class, although it wasn't without issues. I had some sweet boys, a lot just full of anger. Well, this year my boys are full of something but it sure ain't anger. Boy #1: Mark Each morning, we have a whole school assembly. Classes line up around the gym, cheer, sing, and get ready for the day. Last week, I approached my early arrivers and was overwhelmed with a smell. Not a smell, a STANK. All the kids were giggling and looking around when I noticed that little Mark's backpack was wet. And leaking. As I approached his backpack, he got really defensive of it. I try to model the right kinds of behavior for my kids but I just couldn't hold it back -- when I opened his backpack, I had to gag. A pencil had punctured a chocolate milk carton he had placed in his backpack. Based on the smell and texture of the milk, there's no way that that he'd picked up that milk that morning. I tried to see if there was a way to clean it out, but I couldn't keep it open long enough to clean it out. I hate throwing away my kid's things because they place a lot of value on material things, but this was past redemption. Boy #2: David I've been having an issue with my little friend David. He's incredibly talented at mimicry. However, recently he's decided the emulate The Hulk, complete with grunting and attempting to lift things like classmates. Needless, sometimes it's difficult to keep the other kids from paying attention to his antics. Just when I thought we had been making some progress, he's developed a new skill. He has learned how to make himself throw up and has done it daily. For a week. Boy #3: Gerald As I was getting David settled in his time out at recess, a gaggle of girls ran over to me. "Ms. A, Ms. A, Gerald's peeing on the tree!" I looked at another first grade teacher out on recess duty and we just kind of stared at each other like "Is this real life?" Gerald was hiding on the playground at this point. I managed to take his hand and walk over to the tree and, undeniably, there was a wet spot that stank of pee. The conversation went a little like this Ms. A: Gerald, what happened here? Gerald: PEEEEEEEEE Ms. A: Who peed? Gerald: PEEEEEEEEE Ms. A: Gerald, did you pee on the tree? Gerald: I peed on the tree. It needed to grow. [It needed to grow? This was not what we covered in the unit on living things] Ms. A: Did you not use the bathroom before we came outside? Gerald: I didn't have to go Ms. A: Why didn't you come find me? Gerald: I PEEEEEEEED Needless, this was one of the more strange parent phone calls I've had to make. As he was crying on the phone with his mother, I wondered: How many people saw him? How many of my students saw him peeing? Oh god, what kinds of calls am I going to be getting from parents tonight? Then, I realized I'd held his hand. Boy #4: Kenneth My class is a mix of 1st and 2nd graders (although more heavily on the former). Normally, it's not a big deal but we're doing standardized tests and they have to be separated. When Kenneth returned from his testing, my co-teacher told me that there had been an accident during testing. Seeing as most of the kids haven't taken must standardized testing, my initial reaction was that perhaps something was wrong with his materials that I'd given to Ms. T My curiosity got the better of me and I went to ask Ms. T about what happened. Turns out that while Kenneth was testing, the proctor noticed something unusual and called Ms. T over. Kenneth had peed his pants. Not just a little woops, but dripping down the chair and puddling on the floor. Apparently they had to call the janitor in the middle of the standardized test. Yet another reason why small children should not be getting standardized tests. So there you have my evidence. Mark. David. Gerald. Kenneth. Conclusion? Boys stink.