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Breaking The News

dadler85 — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 04:56:31 +0100

Day 177: Today, I finally told my kids I was leaving. To prepare, I did two things. First, I made brownies. I figured if my kids were going to take it poorly, at least they’d have brownies. Second, I made a slide explaining the new city I would be teaching in – Lawrence, Massachusetts – and specifically explaining that it was a city and a school that could use a real teacher-leader. First and second period, the reaction was pretty much the same. A smattering of “What?!?” with one, maybe two “The teachers always leave this place.” Students by and large listened to me respectfully. I got some hugs and requests for my gmail address as they left. Fourth period, my homeroom had a pretty muted reaction. A couple of students, as is the norm, drifted into class in the middle and immediately began talking. My usual requests for eyes and no speaking limited the gravitas. Oh well. I’ve got those folks for another three days. They’re not done with me yet. More importantly, we nailed the catapult lesson. I will remember that during their last science class, we stayed on task and focused, despite flying marshmallows. I’ll also remember that for the first time since October, AM gave me props. I found her after class and told her how proud I was of her growth as a respectful leader, and made her promise to keep doing her best next year. It was eighth period that really killed me. I gave out the brownies, told the students my age – something I’d promised all year. The atmosphere was pretty joyous. And then I dropped my bomb. Immediately, GC shouts, “All of the teachers leave.” Someone else: “Are you going to a better school?” I use that as the segue into explaining that it’s not a better school, but a school that might need more help, and teachers who are willing to step up. When it comes time to read the Big Goal for the last time, I offer that everyone can say it. SE and a couple of other girls ask me to instead. I finish, and ask what it means to “put your money where your mouth is.” A student answers: “You have to back up what you say is important.” I explain that if I’m going to talk about leadership all day, I’d better be prepared to be a leader myself and take on a new challenge, somewhere I’m really needed. I tell this class that I’ve loved teaching them, and I’ve loved their enthusiasm, and I’ve loved seeing their hard work. I dismiss them, and I think I’m in the clear, when I see SBA is crying. And not the loud, look-at-me crying sixth grade girls can do sometimes. This is silent crying – legit crying. I find myself repeating to her, “I’m sorry … I’m sorry …” before I finally hug her and say, “I am so proud of your hard work this year, and I’m so excited to see what you do next year. Please remember that.” She nods and walks out, leaving my heart broken. An hour later, I find JV crying in the stairwell. I gave JV a consequence nearly every day this year. We’re not exactly besties. I ask what’s wrong, and HG, walking by, says, “She’s sad because you’re leaving.” I say I think that’s not true. JV says, “I’m sad because you’re leaving.” Well … damn. I’d talked myself into believing students wouldn’t care much, that they were leaving the campus, that they wouldn’t see me anyway. Turns out they did care. For some, it’s for the negative reasons; they’re used to seeing teachers leave, and this validates their perceptions. For others, though, it seems like they were really and truly sad to see me leave their lives. Maybe they’d been planning to come back and visit next year. Maybe they just wanted to have the chance, and now they couldn’t, even if they wanted to. Either way, my worst fears came to fruition – that I was disappointing my kids by leaving their lives and their community too soon. A few months ago, I ultimately decided the personal and professional reasons for leaving outweighed that risk. Now, I can only hope I’ll really stay in touch, remind myself that I’ll still be doing good work with students next year, and prepare for a heavy-hearted final three days.

The Great Paper Debate

amdipuh — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 14:08:18 +0100

Well, I certainty started this blog with intentions of regular update that were fostered by my own habit of scouring the web for more information about the possibilities of this experience before I, well, experienced it. Oops. Failed that endeavor. I'm now officially a second year TFA corps member and I have found that something (or a lot of things) had to give...and regular updates were one of them. I'm choosing to believe this wasn't my only avenue of reflection and so, though it wasn't public, I have been taking the year in chunks and reflecting and revising my actions independent of this blog. Now that it's summer, I find I'm breathing deeper breaths and perhaps now is my chance to come back to my roots and write about the things i've been living. I cannot summarize my first year of teaching. It cannot be done. I should have stopped and jotted notes, I should have recorded the phone conversations to my coworkers and I should have saved the texts sent to other corps members. Should've, would've, could've...but I didn't. And that's where I need to pick up. With a slew of things I have identified as needing to be done differently--i'm going to cut myself a break on this one. I lived my first year fully and learned, struggled, failed, grew, succeeded, started over, cried, broke things, broke them, broke myself, and ultimately improved. (I hope.) So I won't delve into a list of lessons I learned because to be frank I can't even articulate my findings in any comprehensible way at this point. What I can identify is a a series of loose ends. And so sparks the idea of my next few postings...the daily debates of classroom antics.

Episode one:

Do we give them supplies when they don't bring them or do we let them suffer the consequences of their actions.

I want to break this down into a few key points that are fundamental to developing an opinion on either side of this. First, let me say what sparked this--a veteran teacher is currently teaching two doors down from me in summer school. She teaches math and I am taking a break from science to teach reading to rising 5th graders. She has a reputation for being strict and having obedience in her classroom. (I chose that word carefully.) I find she generally berates students into submission by volume, harsh words, embarrassment or some similar method we've probably all seen before. However, honest reflection means I must point out that though she is aggressive in nature, she might be the perfect fit for our school culture. Many students identify her as a favorite teacher. Her scores are continually improving. I enjoy her company. She just came into my room with a student we share who didn't have paper. He claimed to have left paper in my room which isn't entirely untrue--I supply paper and he came in earlier for a sheet but then left it behind when he was distracted by his peers. "Is that yours?" she asked him. He nodded toward the carpet. "You might need another..." she suggests as he looks to me. Without getting up from my desk, I extended another piece of notebook paper in his direction. "Did you forget the SCHOOL part of summer SCHOOL, sweetheart?" I prompt with a silly face aimed at the student. Everyone shares a quiet laugh. "I'm not supplying paper in the sixth grade anymore. We're handicapping them. When they get to you in 8th grade, they're entirely relient on teachers for their supplies." she's talking through the student who stands between us. "I agree." I say as they leave my room.

And fundamentally--I do agree. Most problems I struggle with seem to be learned behavior. Learned helplessness. Now I question the motive behind the behavior. Students frequently don't have paper or pencil. Could their family not afford it? Do they have a guardian available who they can ask to replenish their supplies when they run out? Have they given these items too freely to their peers therefore running out too quickly to call home and ask for more? Do they simply lack ownership for their materials and lose the items as soon as they acquire them? Do they just expect that a teacher will give them what they need? Is coming to school unprepared the first attempt at getting out of doing work?

Next I have to consider the consequences of how to handle this. Either I give that student the needed supplies or he/she sits in class without the means to complete the task at hand. I watch them ask people immediately near them for supplies. Sometimes they share. Usually there isn't anyone with a surplus of materials. Do I then have this student suffer the consequences of being unprepared by continuing to teach knowing this student is now incapable of taking notes, completing a worksheet, or turning in the exit ticket. Does that give the student permission to disengage from the lesson? Do they care enough about learning to understand that non-participation has consequences for their grade and for their overall knowledge gained or opportunities lost? Or I supply the pencil, paper, glue, etc and ask for collateral. But then I'm eating up class time and halting other students while I exchange paper for a shoe or an ID or whatever I've decided is sufficient. What if they refuse to make the trade? Is this opening up an avenue for students to just choose not to comply with my procedures? So, what then? Send them to the office so I've made absolutely sure that student will not learn from me today? Or let them show defiance and have them sit there unprepared? What does that demonstrate to the rest of the class? Did they achieve their goal of disengaging despite my decision to give them the choice? Alright, the final alternative--I wordlessly supply the paper. I've now told them accountability isn't crucial in my room but perhaps I've also shown them that there isn't an excuse for not completing the work. I've also now signed up to supply any student with any supplies needed for the duration of the year, have I not? And at what expense to me? At what expense to them? What am I teaching them in this decision?

"What you allow you encourage" echos in my head. I've never been told more truthful words as it comes to teaching. There it is: my first loose end. Care to weigh in?

......

kaylaannkahn — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 04:56:48 +0100

Mental overload. Crunch time has never been so.... crunchy? My brain is fried and I still have a lot of lesson plans/ worksheets/ grading/ intervention mini lessons/ EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD to do. Now I understand why people drop out of TFA during institute. But i will stick it out because i am passionate and dedicated to change the lives of children. Alright well that's all I have time for. Back to planning..... and I thought orgo was hard.

Meh, They're Kids

dadler85 — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 03:35:03 +0100

Day 176: My last Monday at my school is over. It felt, unsurprisingly, like pretty much any other Monday. Kids riled up in the morning, having completely forgotten how to be focused during Morning Meeting. The joys of recess and lunch duty. The inability of my homeroom to get into class in an orderly fashion, followed by us eventually pulling it together and getting some work done. About six minutes into sixth period, I heard a student quickly shout, “Ow!” and grab his cheek. The girl behind him, the infamous AM, was giggling. I waited for the next possible break to investigate, and discovered that AM had in fact shot AB in the face with a rubber band. She hadn’t meant to shoot him in the face, per se, but she’d absolutely meant to shoot him. I took a step forward and nearly opened my mouth to send her out, ream her out … something. And then, I didn’t. In that moment, I decided that nothing I did would be at all productive. They were both fooling around, so it’s not like AB would feel slighted if I didn’t come to his rescue. And given that AM was already apologizing, I was fairly confident me getting high and mighty wouldn’t make her any more contrite than she already was. Rationalizing inaction? You betcha. Letting something slide with five days left to go that I wouldn’t have tolerated a month ago? Absolutely. Sitting here kicking myself for letting a student get hit in the face with a rubber band? No chance. These are kids, folks. They’ll be fine.

Lesson planning up the Wha-zoo

kaylaannkahn — Mon, 17 Jun 2013 03:43:11 +0100

Wow my brain is tired. After a long day of planning I have completed 3 mini-lesson plans on class culture, a final draft for my math objective 1, a rough draft of math objective 3, numerous class decorations/posters, our final outline of our groups class culture plan, and.... idk what else!? I'm done for the day... What's worst is that I didn't even get to exercise today so I have literally been sitting here staring at this darn computer for 12+ hours. Oh well, maybe tomorrow will be different... Or maybe not considering it is the first day of real class ANDDD I have 2 more full lesson plans due. Alright, welp I have to wake up for my school bus in 6hours, time for bed. And I thought orgo was hard....

One Last Shout-Fest

dadler85 — Sun, 16 Jun 2013 20:04:39 +0100

Day 175: As I’ve explained before, I have my students do a call and response chant before every quiz and test. I yell “work hard” and they respond “get smart.” I wonder if they actually remember this is supposed to remind them about the value of persistence and growth mindset, or if they just like yelling really loudly. In the event that it was more about yelling loudly, I decided to make our last time a bit more special. Before we started the final, I told each class something unique about them – something that I was proud of them for. I told 6A I appreciated how on task they had stayed all year, and how impressed I was with how much work we’d completed as a result. I told 6B I appreciated how much energy, enthusiasm and positivity they had brought to class this year. I told 6D I appreciated how hard we’d worked to stay focused, even when things threatened to slip toward the end. And I told 6C – my darling homeroom – that I was proud of them for all of their hard work, and how much we’d persisted through struggles together. And then I opened my door. I told my kids I didn’t know when the next time was that they’d be able to scream out loud in school, so we had better make the last one count. I stretched in over-the-top fashion, preparing my vocal cords, and said, loudly: “Work Hard.” Students responded, loudly: “Get Smart!” I shouted: “Work Hard!” Students shout: “Get Smart!” I screamed, with a pause between each word: “WORK. HARD!” Students scream back: “GET. SMART!” As expected pretty much no class brought it back super fast from that last one. MB, the king of the loud shout, went on for a good five seconds. I couldn’t care less. I called the office, made sure the receptionist heard us – she did, every time – gave my kids the OK sign, and told them to nail the final. Which, by and large, they did. I’ll miss these guys. One week to go …

One Last Marathon Thursday

dadler85 — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 19:21:47 +0100

Day 174: When we last left our brave hero, he was up too late on Wednesday writing a Science final. We find him now, Thursday morning, desperately trying to finish said final, and then print it before first period. Never a dull moment. As usual, Thursday was a long day. Given the last-minute nature of the final-writing experience, I found about 10 typos, which I had to then fix while the first classes took the test. Third period, I reduced AC to tears because – gasp – I actually called her out on her empowered, but-I-need-it-now-ness. She tried to leave to go to the bathroom without permission, and when I told her to wait until after the directions, called out at me in the middle of said directions, “Can I go now?” I’d said no interrupting nor speaking once finals were on desks, so I had her stand in the hall for a conversation. She refused to admit she should have waited and raised her hand, with lots of sniffles and crossed arms, so the conversation lasted well into recess. On the plus side, I’ve discovered yet again I’m OK being the bad guy. Sixth and seventh periods were about surviving two final games of Trashketball, which I’m about 80 percent sure I never want to deal with again. And eighth period was the unfettered joy of managing students watching the school play. When I told JP he could sit with his friends if he committed to not talking, he responded, “We’re going to have fun.” Five seconds later, he was sitting alone, behind me. Again, OK being the bad guy. My day ends around 10 pm, perched over a laptop, eyes clearly not up to the task of staying awake. For once, I call it a night early. Only a day later do I realize that will be my last-ever Thursday marathon. I won’t miss them.

Limping, But Still Standing

dadler85 — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 17:53:32 +0100

Day 173: So, as it turns out, students near the end of the year struggle to handle Trashketball. I suppose I should’ve guessed that one. My homeroom got through a whopping six rounds; 10-12 is typical. Oops. I have a very bad TFA admission to make. Wednesday night, once I was finally done with grad school, I was up late writing my final. Yes, that’s right, I did not backwards plan from a final exam this year. In my defense, I did use a large chunk of last year’s final. And what I did change, I generally made harder. Muah ha ha. The common theme here is that it’s the home stretch. I’m not phoning it in. I could have just used last year’s final. But what’s going on doesn’t exactly feel like a well-oiled machine. T-minus 7 days …

Meetin' the Kids

kaylaannkahn — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 01:26:30 +0100

And so begins my teaching experience. Today was the first day of summer school. I wasn't really sure what to expect as I took my post at the office near the bus overhang. Students trickled in, some looked happy and replied "mornin" as I said good morning... but most looked down and kept walking. Maybe I look scary...??? Today we didn't actually have class, just reading assessments. The students filed into their homerooms from the spring where volunteer faculty watched them take math assessments. Then one-by-one us TFA-ers plucked the kids from the class and asked them to read vocab lists and books. Unfortunately only 6 out of my 11 students were in school today, so I was only able to meet 3. I can already tell 2 of the 3 will be spitfires, but I am excited. Meeting them has already made me more confident in my ability to manage the class. I don't know if I can say the same for all the other TFA-ers. They were acting more like babysitters than teachers. No way in hell is that going down in my class. Some staff members had to lay down the law today though... it was interesting seeing how experienced staff handled the kids. However, it seemed like they yelled at them for everything. Not being in a straight enough line, walking in the grass, not walking on the right side of the hall, not grabbing the toilet paper for the bathroom breaks. I am probably just over-sensitive, I'm sure I will be the same way after having my class for a few weeks. After meeting the kids they left, we have yet another professional development session (on how to manage kids.... ironic), and then had time to decorate our class. I must say our "on track to college" theme is pretty bad a$$, especially with the help of my arts and craft skills. Now time to celebrate!!!! I mean I did just finish my first week of institute... which apparently is one of the hardest. Perhaps I will go to the bars? Or maybe sleep in (aka sleep later than 5am... HAAAAA). Who knows :)

It's official, I am a real teacher y'all

kaylaannkahn — Fri, 14 Jun 2013 00:11:16 +0100

Yah just look at the picture below... Like I said its official!!!! Tomorrow I get to meet my darling class of 11 students! We will be administering some diagnostic reading assessments so that we can track each students progress over the next month of summer school. I must say seeing my classroom was the most exciting moment yet. My co-lab and I got to arrange the desks into 3 small groups in accordance with our "On track to college" theme. Each group of desks is a different college track team and is competing with the other class groups to learn medals. By being on good behavior, helping others, or doing intelligent things (like ask questions) teams can move down the track during the class period. The first team to reach the finish gets a gold, second a silver, and third a bronze. At the end of the week the team with the most points (determined by the number of each medal type) gets their picture featured in the class newsletter and selects one MVP who will also receive special recognition. If you can't already tell I am super excited about this theme! I just really hope the students love it. Howeverrrrrr, I do still have one big worry, class management. Today we had a "PD" or professional development session on how to keep kids on track by setting firm rules from day one. We even practiced our "teacher voice"... haha. I still can't see myself being stern with students, but I know the point will come at some point. On a different note, Dan (my future fiance) had his interview down in Clinton NC yesterday and ROCKED IT! WOOHOO. Fingers crossed he gets the job.