Miguel: "Maybe watching TV shows online would be a good alternative for us. Since we don't have time to watch a full movie."
***
One of my students: "You better hope my grades goes up, Miss. Or my dad will be PISSED."
***
Another student: "Miss, the next time you're sick, get Ms. E's sub. He's cool. He let us play basketball! But he made us do math problems before we could shoot. So we learned, too."
[the next day]
Ms. E: "That sub totally screwed me over. Now all my classes are behind and didn't get any work done on Friday."
***
Miguel: "Maybe I'll get to bed before 2 tonight."
Me: "I do not approve."
Miguel: "There's no other way for me to get the readings done."
***
Student C: "Miss! Where are our pictures?! You haven't put them up yet? Miss, you're slackin!"
***
Fellow Boettcher Teacher: "This year is better than last. Last year I didn't exercise. This year I play basketball with the kids at recess."
His Wife: "And he still gets up at 5am in the morning on SATURDAY to get work done."
***
Beloved Roommate: "I am a bad person with my freshmen class. But they are such jerks."
Me: "It's ok. They'll be less jerk-y by the end of the year. It's a slow process."
***
2nd Beloved Roommate: "I am a bad teacher. Timmy sucks at reading. But I don't want to teach him because he has lice. He lives in poverty and I don't want to teach him to read because I don't want to sit next to him and gets his lice. What do we do?"
Miguel: "I thought kids couldn't come to school if they had lice."
2nd Beloved Roommate: "He's had it for two years. Social services went to his house and it's infested. In the couches, everything."
***
Student B, in a letter she wrote me: "Thanks for looking for the good in me. Seems like people always expect the bad. I couldn't tell you this in person because I get emotional when I talk about my personal stuff. But thank you."
***
Me, to Student K: "Do you know how much I appreciate you! Thank you for helping clean up your classmates' binders!"
Student K: "Thank-you, Miss. You explain stuff so that I can actually understand it."
***
School Director: "I told you when I hired you, if you're looking for easy, go somewhere else."
***
I'm not looking for easy, but I am looking forward to when this constant emotional and time burden becomes less of a drain.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
The World Load is Less Than Invigorating
Got home at 7:30pm tonight. After leaving for work at 6:45am. This is a pretty typical day. Usually I leave for work earlier and I get home a little earlier.
I have a head cold. I cannot feel anything above my shoulders. Every time I grade student binders I think the layers of mucus lining my sinuses gets a little bit thicker. The swine flu will surely get me sooner or later. “It’s a pandemic. You’re a school teacher. You’re doomed.” These are the encouraging words of my partner.
As I drive home I marvel again at what a beautiful city I live in. The flyway exit from I-25 south onto Park Avenue provides a glimpse of the mountains still hazy in the dusk and the city lights beginning to glimmer. But I start wondering. How long will this be my life? I’m working this hard now for what? Certainly not the money, nor the glory. My partner and I both work our tails off in order to serve. To do good in the world. A tall, idealistic order that will never be filled.
Last night, as we celebrated my first teacher paycheck by eating beautiful tarts outside Whole Foods Cherry Creek, we talked about dying. We’re 24 years old and already thinking about our last wishes: to die peacefully. Tonight though, I wonder about the in between. Where will our careers take us?
Just as I constantly need to buy new pencils to supply the pencil-eating monster that is my teenaged students, so the inequities in education will constantly need remedied. To be a good teacher, I must diagnose 20-30 patients within a 52 minutes period and come up with the next steps in their treatment before the next day. Repeat six times. Use one 52 minute period to make copies and take attendance. Repeat five days a week.
Teaching will never be a 9-5 job during which I can go out to eat for an hour or make personal calls during breaks. Every lunch I sit and talk with my fellow teachers, dedicated and skilled, about how to support kids, even when they enrage us with their antics. Every break there are students coming in to make up work. This is the reality of working with a high mobility population.
So when will I find time to enjoy my partner’s and my new marriage? To stay home with my young children and instill in them the values that will hopefully help them do well in school someday.
There are many people in the world who work much harder than I. Many of my students’ parents fall into this category. Many of them don’t have the privileges of medical benefits or a union. I realize this. But tonight I am tired. And I wonder, when will I be enough, when will students learn enough, when will the public education system do enough? Sitting at my kitchen table, eating the same leftovers I’ve been eating all week, there seems to be no end in sight.
What can I do? What needs to be done so that new teachers like me don’t work 100+ hours per week just to stay afloat in trying to fairly serve my students that deserve so much more than I can give them?
I have a head cold. I cannot feel anything above my shoulders. Every time I grade student binders I think the layers of mucus lining my sinuses gets a little bit thicker. The swine flu will surely get me sooner or later. “It’s a pandemic. You’re a school teacher. You’re doomed.” These are the encouraging words of my partner.
As I drive home I marvel again at what a beautiful city I live in. The flyway exit from I-25 south onto Park Avenue provides a glimpse of the mountains still hazy in the dusk and the city lights beginning to glimmer. But I start wondering. How long will this be my life? I’m working this hard now for what? Certainly not the money, nor the glory. My partner and I both work our tails off in order to serve. To do good in the world. A tall, idealistic order that will never be filled.
Last night, as we celebrated my first teacher paycheck by eating beautiful tarts outside Whole Foods Cherry Creek, we talked about dying. We’re 24 years old and already thinking about our last wishes: to die peacefully. Tonight though, I wonder about the in between. Where will our careers take us?
Just as I constantly need to buy new pencils to supply the pencil-eating monster that is my teenaged students, so the inequities in education will constantly need remedied. To be a good teacher, I must diagnose 20-30 patients within a 52 minutes period and come up with the next steps in their treatment before the next day. Repeat six times. Use one 52 minute period to make copies and take attendance. Repeat five days a week.
Teaching will never be a 9-5 job during which I can go out to eat for an hour or make personal calls during breaks. Every lunch I sit and talk with my fellow teachers, dedicated and skilled, about how to support kids, even when they enrage us with their antics. Every break there are students coming in to make up work. This is the reality of working with a high mobility population.
So when will I find time to enjoy my partner’s and my new marriage? To stay home with my young children and instill in them the values that will hopefully help them do well in school someday.
There are many people in the world who work much harder than I. Many of my students’ parents fall into this category. Many of them don’t have the privileges of medical benefits or a union. I realize this. But tonight I am tired. And I wonder, when will I be enough, when will students learn enough, when will the public education system do enough? Sitting at my kitchen table, eating the same leftovers I’ve been eating all week, there seems to be no end in sight.
What can I do? What needs to be done so that new teachers like me don’t work 100+ hours per week just to stay afloat in trying to fairly serve my students that deserve so much more than I can give them?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Gender Testing...No Easy Answers
This is why dualities don't work and we should respect all committed families and relationships.
http://www.slate.com/id/2225810/?from=rss
http://www.slate.com/id/2225810/?from=rss
Teaching as Extreme Sport
I should be lesson planning right now.
In the words of a much more experienced teacher: “I am drowning.” It made me feel better to hear an older wiser counterpart voice my own thoughts about my teaching inadequacies.
Teaching is a delight thus far. Such a rush. Some people rock climb, sky dive, or other extreme sports. I teach. It is just as intense. One false move and the class could cascade into chaos. One misspoken word and a student could write me off for the entire year, and I might not see the beautiful writing she’s been doing for years in her secret journal. But if I play my cards right, prepare, study up, use caution, and always stand on the balls of my feet, read for anything, I may just be rewarded with the most beautiful view: a growing, blossoming classroom. It would be full of students who know how to say my hard-to-pronouce German name. Students who come on time, get to work, and even though they complain to me, they tell other teachers that they learn a lot and really enjoy my class. Students who develop from the beginning of the year terrors (because they’re terrified) into confident, mature, helpful young adults by the end of the year.
I feel a little bit like I’m drowning, but I’m willing to brave the waters, because the reward is too great.
teaching > rock climbing
Friday, July 3, 2009
Balancing Direct Instruction with Student Knowledge
I find myself in the awkward position of attaining a much coveted teaching job, as a brand spanking new language arts teacher, and wondering how I’m going to validate students as people and knowers within the demands of a prescribed curriculum.
Last year, my fellowship year, I used the workshop model, giving students plenty of time to work, independently and in small groups. While they worked, I conferred with them to show them their own brilliance, in case they missed it. Conferring is my favorite thing to do in the classroom. It gives me the chance to talk with students one on one about their learning. How much better can teaching get? It puts emphasis on the importance of the process, and builds strong relationships between the students and I. They start to believe that I really do care about them and their academic growth.
The school I’m going to be working at is wonderful. They want to use the workshop model in every single classroom, because it’s been shown to be one of the best models to help students truly understand what is being taught. Ideally, students actually work with the material, internalizing and problem solving, instead of merely memorizing stats.
So with all this fortune, as a brand new teacher with a solid job placement, what is my concern? Two words: prescribed curriculum. I’ve never worked with one before, and frankly, it makes me a bit nervous. It’s great to have material to start with, but I’m also a little insulted that some of the materials are so script-like. I’m capable enough to come up with something to say on my own, thank-you! Having admitted this, I am also excited by the framework: clear goals and various methods to reach those goals.
The prescribed curriculum the district chose is called Every Child a Reader (ECAR). It’s specifically aimed at helping low income students achieve literacy success. Our district knows its students, mostly low income, and strives to meet their needs. Thus the district-wide prescribed curriculum.
I just wonder where the balance will be. ECAR requires the teacher direct instruct. Lisa Delpit, respected educator and theorist on students in poverty and of color, would agree there’s nothing wrong with a little explicit instruction every now and then. Sometimes students need to be told how things work. “This is a verb. It’s an action word.” The tricky part is that too much direct instruction turns the teacher into the knowledge dispenser and students into empty vessels to be filled. And we have to talk about how just because something works this way in that situation, doesn’t mean it always does or that there aren’t bigger powers at play influencing the way it works… Problematizing the status quo and showing students their power in the world is also a must.
Students are not empty vessels. My students are largely in poverty and of color, and they think of novel solutions to problems, tell masterful stories, responsibly care for younger family members, and, in general, hold huge funds of invaluable knowledge. How do I balance fulfilling ECAR’s direct instruction and make space in the classroom for students’ knowledge to be validated as well?
I guess I’ll start out with a little of both and adjust as needed, in response to students. That’s all we can ever do: respond to students.
Last year, my fellowship year, I used the workshop model, giving students plenty of time to work, independently and in small groups. While they worked, I conferred with them to show them their own brilliance, in case they missed it. Conferring is my favorite thing to do in the classroom. It gives me the chance to talk with students one on one about their learning. How much better can teaching get? It puts emphasis on the importance of the process, and builds strong relationships between the students and I. They start to believe that I really do care about them and their academic growth.
The school I’m going to be working at is wonderful. They want to use the workshop model in every single classroom, because it’s been shown to be one of the best models to help students truly understand what is being taught. Ideally, students actually work with the material, internalizing and problem solving, instead of merely memorizing stats.
So with all this fortune, as a brand new teacher with a solid job placement, what is my concern? Two words: prescribed curriculum. I’ve never worked with one before, and frankly, it makes me a bit nervous. It’s great to have material to start with, but I’m also a little insulted that some of the materials are so script-like. I’m capable enough to come up with something to say on my own, thank-you! Having admitted this, I am also excited by the framework: clear goals and various methods to reach those goals.
The prescribed curriculum the district chose is called Every Child a Reader (ECAR). It’s specifically aimed at helping low income students achieve literacy success. Our district knows its students, mostly low income, and strives to meet their needs. Thus the district-wide prescribed curriculum.
I just wonder where the balance will be. ECAR requires the teacher direct instruct. Lisa Delpit, respected educator and theorist on students in poverty and of color, would agree there’s nothing wrong with a little explicit instruction every now and then. Sometimes students need to be told how things work. “This is a verb. It’s an action word.” The tricky part is that too much direct instruction turns the teacher into the knowledge dispenser and students into empty vessels to be filled. And we have to talk about how just because something works this way in that situation, doesn’t mean it always does or that there aren’t bigger powers at play influencing the way it works… Problematizing the status quo and showing students their power in the world is also a must.
Students are not empty vessels. My students are largely in poverty and of color, and they think of novel solutions to problems, tell masterful stories, responsibly care for younger family members, and, in general, hold huge funds of invaluable knowledge. How do I balance fulfilling ECAR’s direct instruction and make space in the classroom for students’ knowledge to be validated as well?
I guess I’ll start out with a little of both and adjust as needed, in response to students. That’s all we can ever do: respond to students.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Teacher Evaluations Should Mix Competition and Compassion
Looky here! Denver is slightly better than a few other districts when it comes to being honest about teacher performance.
How do 9 out of 10 teachers receive a satisfactory report card when schools are in such shambles? Anyone who knows a school knows that a healthy percentage of the teachers in that school are NOT satisfactory. And that's to be expected! Teaching is hard work and needs constant refining to do it well. But without an evaluation that tells us where we need to refine, how are we going to do that? Oh sure, I know there's lots of informal conferences that go on and critical friends circles, and peer observations are supposed to happen. But really, it would be nice to have these things documented, too. So we KNOW they're happening.
How do we both sustain a collaborative, supportive teaching environment AND produce honest, change-inducing evaluations? It would seem to be something like a nice mix of self-competitive motivation (capitalistic, perhaps?) with a healthy dose of compassion, something teachers do well. I just wish more people could see constructive criticism as useful and necessary. And that more people could give criticism that is constructive, too. Myself included, of course.
Maybe the evaluations need to be redone? Probably. Binary scoring? Ha. Impossible to report teacher performance accurately.
How do 9 out of 10 teachers receive a satisfactory report card when schools are in such shambles? Anyone who knows a school knows that a healthy percentage of the teachers in that school are NOT satisfactory. And that's to be expected! Teaching is hard work and needs constant refining to do it well. But without an evaluation that tells us where we need to refine, how are we going to do that? Oh sure, I know there's lots of informal conferences that go on and critical friends circles, and peer observations are supposed to happen. But really, it would be nice to have these things documented, too. So we KNOW they're happening.
How do we both sustain a collaborative, supportive teaching environment AND produce honest, change-inducing evaluations? It would seem to be something like a nice mix of self-competitive motivation (capitalistic, perhaps?) with a healthy dose of compassion, something teachers do well. I just wish more people could see constructive criticism as useful and necessary. And that more people could give criticism that is constructive, too. Myself included, of course.
Maybe the evaluations need to be redone? Probably. Binary scoring? Ha. Impossible to report teacher performance accurately.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Interviewing Can Be Fun
Interviewing can be fun.
It reminds you of what you're good at. It's a chance to talk with people with similar goals to yours.
There's so many choices! This school has an emphasis on community involvement. This school caters to students who couldn't make it in the big high schools. (And who can "make it" in those factory models?) This school lets you choose your curriculum. This school wants you to focus on international literature.
I love them all, all for different reasons.
I was nervous, but now I'm feeling confident. One interview down, who knows how many to go.
But I will find a job.
Gratitude overflows.
It reminds you of what you're good at. It's a chance to talk with people with similar goals to yours.
There's so many choices! This school has an emphasis on community involvement. This school caters to students who couldn't make it in the big high schools. (And who can "make it" in those factory models?) This school lets you choose your curriculum. This school wants you to focus on international literature.
I love them all, all for different reasons.
I was nervous, but now I'm feeling confident. One interview down, who knows how many to go.
But I will find a job.
Gratitude overflows.
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