Reminding Myself Why I Do This Job

Describe your favorite student:

Sam is not my smartest student. In fact, he struggles more than most. He tries to hide the fact that he really can't read. When I conference with him individually or require him to write while I'm standing at his desk, he nervously hovers his pencil over his paper before he scribbles even the simplest of words in such illegible handwriting that he thinks I won't be able to notice the misspelling. He doesn't have poor handwriting. He writes his name very well. He writes the words basketball and Kobe Bryant very well.

Sam was one of my pee-wee basketball players last year. A sixth grader at the time, he had such heart and wide-eyed eagerness to learn that I constantly found myself gravitating towards him, making sure he was doing everything perfectly... because I knew he wanted that. I wasn't his teacher, so I really had no idea how far behind he was academically. All I knew of Sam was that he always did as he was told, most of his teammates seemed to like him, he knew when to joke, and he knew when to "give me his eyes." 

This year I've gotten to know him a little better. About three weeks ago, I got tired of him losing everything he ever did in my class, so I pulled a binder off my shelf and emptied from it the miscellaneous paper work it was storing.

"Come here," I said with a stern tone and a wry smirk on my face.

He looked at me, chin lowered, his eyes unsure as to whether I was mad or joking.

"Come here, Sam," I repeated, showing a little more of my smile.

At this he completely dropped his head, and as he dragged his feet towards my desk, snickers rippled throughout the room. In most situations I would nip this immediately. In most situations I'm pretty sure my students would know better than to laugh at all. But Sam was doing this intentionally. He knew he wasn't in trouble and he knows how to be a ham.

As he sat by my desk, emptying the crumpled papers and busted pens out of his frayed and faded backpack, I patiently explained to him how I was dividing each section of his new binder. 

"This section is for your Do Nows. I'm putting plenty of blank paper in here so you don't have to walk around the room anymore asking people for paper. This one's for your notes... again... blank paper, why?"

"So I don't have to walk around your room mooching off my classmates," he smirked.

"Very good."

Surprisingly we managed to pull most of his missing assignments out of that tiny backpack. I made him put each one in its proper section. My next step was to make something to go on the front of his binder, inside the clear sheet protector. I pulled out a blank sheet of printer paper and opened my drawer to find a marker... only highlighters. Yellow wouldn't have shown up, so I placed my hand on the hot pink one and looked at him. His eyes got wide and his jaw dropped.

"Don't do that to me, Miss B!"

"Oh yes... this is happening," I said.

In big, hot pink capital letters I wrote Sam's VERY Organized Language Arts Binder and then slid the sheet into the front of his binder. Perfect.

My last step was to take a pen out of my drawer, tie a long piece of yarn around the top, and duct tape it into the center of his binder.

"What's this for, Sam?"

"So I don't have to walk around your room mooching off my classmates," he repeated.

Sam brings that binder to class every day now. He never forgets it. Every day he walks in, turns to his Do Now section, stretches his pen out as far as the yarn will let it reach, and playfully plucks at it like a guitar string. He may not get the Do Now questions correct most days and he may still misspell elementary words... but we're working on it. He wants to work on it.

When approaching this blog assignment I wrestled with how I was going to do it justice. There are so many kids who make my job worth it, who provide motivation to roll out of bed every day. It's easy to get excited about helping the "smart kids." It's easy to lean towards the kids who understand what I'm saying the first time around and only talk when they're supposed to. Sam probably talks too much, he's disorganized, and often times I have to repeat directions several times before he begins his work... but at the end of every day, when I reflect upon what I've accomplished, it's the things like making that binder for Sam that remind me why I do this job. I've met so many kids with poor backgrounds and rich personalities. Often times they don't realize how limited their opportunities really are... often times I'm glad for that. Kids like Sam, however, seem to be well aware of their own realities... devastatingly aware of their own realities. They know they're below reading level, that their parents can't afford binders, or that they're not the best athletes. They still show up everyday willing to make me laugh, willing to try in my class, and willing to humor me by letting me think they LOVE things like organized binders and subject-verb agreement. While Sam is indeed my favorite student, I am lucky to be able to say that I have several like him.

Sage Wisdom

Dear First Years,
At this point in time, you are undoubtedly being inundated with anecdotal words of wisdom from the mouths of jaded and exhausted second year MTCers. While it’s true that we have one year under our belts and have gained knowledge and perspective on many things, I think you should keep two things in mind when listening.

1. We only just finished out first year of teaching, so while we mean well and would never misguide you or anyone else… we are still pretty new at this. Along with that freshness comes a relative inability to be objective. I am writing this blog while still sitting in my classroom at Byhalia Middle School, so don’t think that the short trip over to Holly Springs tomorrow will suddenly enlighten me. Not enough time has passed. I and the other second years (except maybe Matthew Gioia) will give you the best advice we can, but don’t take it as gospel.
2. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems. For me, the worst thing about last summer was being scared to death by the awful stories I heard from second years. They talked of terrible children, unbearable stress, and isolation from friends and family. I heard so much of it that I dreaded coming back to Mississippi at the end of July and thought for sure that I was in for the worst, most stressful two years of my life. I don’t want to say that none of what they said was true or applicable to my situation, but it definitely would have been better for me to come into this job completely unbiased. So… listen to the stories… enjoy the stories… but then forget them. No one MTCer has ever had the same experience, and you should truly look forward to discovering yours on your own.

I can’t wait to watch you all grow through this next year. I am such a different person compared to who I was a year ago, and I would not have it any other way. I can’t tell you how proud it makes me to tell people I am a teacher, and it makes me even prouder to tell them where I’m a teacher. Our job is a difficult one and when you make it to this time next year you will truly feel like you can do anything. Attack every day with every bit of yourself that you can muster (some days it’s not much) and I can promise you that by the end of next year you will have no regrets.

Summer Wish List

Let me just begin by saying that these are the worst kind of blog assignments. It’s so difficult to articulate certain things like, “what I want to work on.” Many of the things I want to work on are intangible, and with only three weeks of summer school, it would be impossible to significantly change or improve upon anything on my wish list, which is as follows:

1. Become more stoic in my interactions with “the bad kids.” I am a very passionate and sometimes emotional person… I wear my feelings on my sleeve most of the time. That’s a BAD characteristic for a teacher in terms of discipline. On a positive note, it certainly helped me build some great relationships with students this year, but I had terrible rapports with the bad kids and they continued to slide over the year.


2. Make-up work. Summer school is definitely not a realistic way to work on this. I will be going from 140 students to 30 and there will be six other teachers in the classroom. To add to that, students are only allowed to have two absences before they fail. During the school year, I was pretty awful about keeping up with make-up work and tests. I usually didn’t address missing grades until the end of the 9 weeks or when a student came to me and asked.


3. Consistency with consequences.  I tend to cut the goods kids more slack than I should and by the end of this school year, they began to act a little more “grown” than I would have liked. I’m not saying they misbehaved or acted disrespectful, but I sensed that they began to think of themselves as my equal rather than my subordinate. Again… summer school is probably too short to really experience any of that.


4. Patience with kids who move slower. Towards the end of this school year I got pretty impatient with students who worked slowly or asked a lot of questions. I’m sure part of that was just being burned out, but it is in our job description to be understanding and helpful to those kids. It is worth the extra effort to make sure they grasp something, so I would like to do a better job of keeping that in mind.

Free Write

Essential thoughts: 
I’ve never really had guiding principles in terms of grammar. I don’t even remember the last class in which I was taught grammar. I suppose it was somewhere around seventh grade, but if asked specifics about what I learned, I would probably stare blankly. I suppose my desire to make my own class memorable and beneficial for my students stems from that realization - grammar education is excruciatingly forgettable.

Newly found principles on grammar: 
While grammar and the ability to speak properly have always come easily for me, I realize those two things are not innate. Until recently, I never realized how much my upbringing influenced my speech, and consequently my writing. I, like most people, write the way I speak, so my writing has always been at least passable. My mother has a fantastic vocabulary and is exceptionally articulate, so as a child, I had constant exposure to proper English. As a toddler phrases like, “Consider your actions!” were not uncommon. It was easy for me to learn how to write higher level essays because I didn’t have to think about word choice and mechanics, I just had to learn how to organize an essay and develop my thoughts. The area in which I teach is not one that is known for its residents’ ability to speak formal English. As a writing teacher, I am slapped in the face daily by the reality that what I teach is cancelled out several times over as soon as my kids go home. Fifty five minutes a day (or 20 of my talking) is not enough to impact them.

So... my guiding principles? Teach them the fundamentals. The fact that I didn’t have to learn the fundamentals does not mean that they don’t. I treat it as though I am giving a golf lesson to a player who has practiced bad habits for years. They may know how to play golf. They probably do it every day. But the more they ingrain the wrong practices, the harder it becomes to reverse them. So I have to break it down. I have to pretend the player is not an athlete, that they have never played a good round of golf, that they have only seen one played. This amateur hacker is analogous to my average student. They have heard people use proper English, but they have practiced bad habits for years. They may know how to communicate using English because they do it every day, but unless I take them back to the basics, they will continue to build on the wrong practices. They will forever make it to the 18th hole but be disappointed with the score on their card.

Perspective

Back in June, I remember thinking that the second years were too disengaged. I even got a little angry at what seemed like an unwillingness to help us.

"Don't they remember what it was like for them last year? They act like they're so tired... please! It's summer!"

So this is my official apology to the second years for what I thought but never said last summer. With the exception of the fantastic John Darnell, I unfairly tagged most of them as unhelpful and borderline selfish. I get it now!

I was talking to a fellow first year just a couple days ago about how much we are looking forward to summer vacation. At some point early in the conversation we realized that we had the entire month of June to consider before we went on summer vacation. Light bulb moment.

I realize how much effort it takes to get through just a semester of school, let alone the whole year. So by the time June gets here, I will be drained. I am sure that one of the last things I will want to do is teach some more.

So how has my perspective changed? I have even more respect for the second years now. I am half way to where they were when I first met them, so now I have an even better grasp of what they had just endured. I realize that any extra effort they chose to put forth must have come from a good place-the same philanthropic place that drove them to apply to MTC. I hope I can be as positive of an influence to our incoming class of first years.

A Day in the Life

When I was told to write a blog about a day in the life of Ms. B, I tirelessly racked my brain for a way to make it interesting... or at the very least save you from excruciating boredom. After seconds upon seconds of careful consideration, I am sad to say that I came up with nothing. So in contrast to my introduction and with the interest of all parties involved, I will attempt to proceed with careful brevity and try to make this as painless as possible. Here goes!

10:00pm: I turn in for the night and set my alarm for 5:30am intending to hit "snooze" at least six times at 5 minute increments the next morning.

5:30am: My alarm goes off the first time. I usually try to talk myself into getting up at that point, but sleepiness quickly takes over and I hit snooze.

6:00am: My alarm goes off the final time. At this point I've allowed myself to wake up slowly enough that it's not too hard to roll myself out of bed. I take the next 30 minutes getting ready.

6:30am: I try to walk out the door by 6:30. On the way out, I grab something small for breakfast. It's usually a Pop Tart. Today my students told me they thought only kids ate Pop Tarts.

6:40am: I pull into the same gas station every morning and I park next to the same construction trucks. I have never liked to consider myself such a creature of habit, but there is something comforting about seeing the same people at the gas station every morning. I walk in, wave to the usual customers who sit at the booths to the right, and walk over to the coffee and cappuccino machines. I make my daily cocktail of half coffee, half mocha cappuccino and I grab a bottle of water. As I walk up to the counter, the ladies typically say something about my outfit choice for the day. Last Friday they told me I looked like one of my students. I'm usually in and out within 3 minutes.

6:55am: I get to school, clock in, check my mail box, and head to my class room. At this point in the year, I have significantly cut time off of my morning routine. I used to get to school at 6:30 and wait for the principal to get there and unlock the building. No more. Upon entering my room, I flick on the heat- although lately Mr. Buford, the janitor, turns it on for me. The next few minutes are taken by mindless but necessary minutiae like changing the date on the board, straightening the desks, writing the day's tasks on the board, and hooking up the projector.

7:10am: Every other week I have duty in the main hallway from 7:10-7:30. This is perhaps my favorite part of the day. I get to see every student that rides a bus and most of the car riders... that includes kids as young as kindergarten. After only a few weeks of school, certain elementary schoolers started giving me hugs in the morning. When I ask them why, they just smile, shrug their shoulders, and keep walking. Adorable.

7:35-8:00: My homeroom class contains some of my worst students. They are required to read their Accelerated Reader books and take tests on them during homeroom. Getting this group of kids to do so if awful. They're starting to come around.

8:05-9:00: I am lucky to have some of the more rambunctious 7th graders in my first period class so they haven't had time to wake up. They are usually mellow enough to pay attention but not too tired to fall asleep. Perfection.

9:05-10:00: Second period is my favorite group of kids and whether it's recommended or not, I tell them they're my favorites. Some may say that this will give them a sense of entitlement and it may snowball out of control by the end of the year, but so far it has just given me a way to guilt trip them... which is why they're my favorites. Guilt trips and disappointment are actually deterrents for them.

10:05-10:20: Break

10:25-10:45: The first part of 3rd period before lunch.

10:50-11:15: Lunch

11:20-11:55: The second half of 3rd period. It is really becoming exhausting to try to calm them down after lunch. Third period is my honors class, but every new student gets put in there because it's the smallest class. Most of our new students this year have not only been below the honors level, but they have also been behavior problems.

12:00-12:55: 4th period is my SPED/inclusion class. I truly enjoy working with the students who have learning disabilities. It seems like they are so much more appreciative and eager. There are also several behavioral IEPs in that class though so a lot of my attention has to be focused on maintaining order.

1:00-1:55: Planning - I used to leave school and just drive around Byhalia to take a break. That is becoming less necessary.

2:00-2:55: 6th period is my worst class behaviorally but I really enjoy their personalities. There are many occasions when I have to put serious effort into witholding laughter.

I tutor after school on Mondays and Wednesdays. After that, I go to basketball practice until about 6:00.

On nights when we have away games, my nights are pretty late. The record so far is 10:00.

So at about twice the required word count, I'll cut it off here. So much for brevity.

Free Write

I was warned about October. I was warned about a lot of things that would happen during the first part of the year. October was supposed to be the month from hell, the month when everything caught up to me and I began loathing my job. We were told of former teachers who said October was easily the worst month of the year. The weather gets colder. Daylight hours are shorter. I was scared of October because August and September were fantastic! How can the good times just end?

They didn’t.

I’m not sure if they were just trying to build things up so much that when it actually came around it wouldn’t seem so bad. In my case, I don’t even think that was the case. October just wasn’t that bad. In fact, a lot of new and exciting things have been happening. We are trying to start a school newspaper. These kids have never had one so they seem to be really excited. We had 35 show up to the first meeting. I’m also working with one of my journalism professors from Ole Miss, Garreth Blackwell, and he has offered to help. He and his wife even donated some digital cameras for us.

I’m also coaching basketball. Now I’m going to be honest, I don’t really even like basketball, but they asked me to help and I don’t know how to say no. What surprised me is that I am actually enjoying it. We have some great kids and contrary to my two weeks of helping with high school volleyball, the middle-schoolers actually try. They dive on the floor, get mad when they don’t play, and they have this amazing competitive spirit. 

Perhaps the best part of October has been that I have gotten to know my students better and better. Their personalities are starting to come out, and while some may caution me about the discipline problems that could bring, I’m happy about it. I laugh at my students every day. I must say that I don’t love the teaching part of my job as much as I thought I would, but I love my kids. They keep me coming back to school every day. They give me reason to roll out of bed in the morning. Discipline has become more of a challenge, but they’re not unmanageable. I would rather have to put more effort into my classroom management than have a room full of kids who are afraid to show me their personality.