The thing about poverty is that is indefinable, untenable, unreachable, and untouchable
But never ineducable, is it?
Poverty is that thing I am said to deal with, though I never see it.
No one says I am poor. No one says I live in poverty.
When in fact, no one really does.
We talk about poverty. But where is poverty?
Have you seen him? Have you met him?
Poverty is bankruptcy. Now that’s poverty.
Poverty is that students are bankrupt.
Bankrupt of critical thinking skills.
Bankrupt of reading comprehension skills.
Bankrupt of basic levels of literacy and numeracy.
There lies poverty. Right there. It runs perpendicular to its
Cruel first cousin, ignorance.
Poverty is in the dearth, the dearth that surrounds the
Earth where I teach. The dearth of intellect.
The dearth of administrative oversight to know
that I teach students, not content.
The dearth of intellectual curiosity.
The dearth of logic, reason, and passion.
And not the passion the students have for each other.
The passion this teacher has for the content.
The dearth of best practices and common sense.
I wrote common sense not Common Core.
Poverty has a conceptual framework
Nowhere to be found in the state frameworks
Poverty is sly, quick-witted, and slow-footed
Poverty is deceptive, expensively clad
Hold up, wait
Maybe not.
The thing about poverty is that is definable, tenable, reachable, and touchable
It is educable, yes?
Poverty is the thing I am said to deal with and I see it daily.
No one says I am poor. No one says I live in poverty.
When in fact, everyone does.
We talk about poverty. Where is poverty?
It is here. It is there. It is without care. We stopped
Saying poverty and got socially conscious
Critical needs are needs that are indefinable, untenable, unreachable, and untouchable
Hold up, wait
Maybe not.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Favorite Student
Describe one of your favorite students. It seems easy enough. If I think about it, I can write and say they are all my favorite students, but honesty appears. In truth, I do have a favorite, and I try not to let it show. I think sometimes it does show. My favorite lamb is fresh out of alternative school, sent there last year for a seemingly innocuous crime. He one day brought a knife to school to show off. Violating a zero-tolerance policy, he was shipped off to Holly Springs for the alternative program. He returned this year, a free man, happy to be back out among his classmates.
Said student comes to school just about every day. After is, it is Mississippi. Who in these parts has perfect attendance? He is in my first period class, the class is unusually quiet not because they fear me, but rather it is first period, and they are still half-awake, half-dead. He sits in the front near the projector, where I placed him. He is of great assistance, which explains why he has such prime real estate. He scrolls down for me, adjusts the display, and tinkers with the cords when need be. Reading is not his strongest subject, but he tries. And trying is what counts. I know I can expect effort from this student.
There are days when he is a little grumpy and will express that he cannot do the assignment because it is tough or difficult or confusing. That is when old Mr. Farmer trudges out the student’s nickname and urges the student to get back on task and work diligently. This grumpiness has lead to a few disciplinary issues for the student. With other students, he is not as attentive or respectful as he should be. Thus, he has taken a couple of trips to the wood shed and had his behavior modified. Indeed, the favorite student has been on the receiving end of some tough love. Being the good kid that he is, he shrugs it off and chalks it up to momentary lapses in judgment (my phrase, not the student’s, though he will agree that is what it is). Work and behavior are improving for him.
Finally, my favorite student is reliable and helpful, always there to help me change my bulletin board or pass out papers or sweep the room. I am pretty grateful for this student. Preconceived notions laid bare, I fully expected this student to be trouble when I met him. Granted, he is small for his age, the stigma attached to a stint in alternative school was ever present.
In sum, my favorite student is a good kid. There most of the time to handle his responsibilities and work, he is average and decent, interested in sports and girls, wanting to go pro and leave his small burg and chase dreams in the big city. I know not what the future holds in store for him, but I hope he does well in all his future endeavors. He is a good kid; he deserves it.
Said student comes to school just about every day. After is, it is Mississippi. Who in these parts has perfect attendance? He is in my first period class, the class is unusually quiet not because they fear me, but rather it is first period, and they are still half-awake, half-dead. He sits in the front near the projector, where I placed him. He is of great assistance, which explains why he has such prime real estate. He scrolls down for me, adjusts the display, and tinkers with the cords when need be. Reading is not his strongest subject, but he tries. And trying is what counts. I know I can expect effort from this student.
There are days when he is a little grumpy and will express that he cannot do the assignment because it is tough or difficult or confusing. That is when old Mr. Farmer trudges out the student’s nickname and urges the student to get back on task and work diligently. This grumpiness has lead to a few disciplinary issues for the student. With other students, he is not as attentive or respectful as he should be. Thus, he has taken a couple of trips to the wood shed and had his behavior modified. Indeed, the favorite student has been on the receiving end of some tough love. Being the good kid that he is, he shrugs it off and chalks it up to momentary lapses in judgment (my phrase, not the student’s, though he will agree that is what it is). Work and behavior are improving for him.
Finally, my favorite student is reliable and helpful, always there to help me change my bulletin board or pass out papers or sweep the room. I am pretty grateful for this student. Preconceived notions laid bare, I fully expected this student to be trouble when I met him. Granted, he is small for his age, the stigma attached to a stint in alternative school was ever present.
In sum, my favorite student is a good kid. There most of the time to handle his responsibilities and work, he is average and decent, interested in sports and girls, wanting to go pro and leave his small burg and chase dreams in the big city. I know not what the future holds in store for him, but I hope he does well in all his future endeavors. He is a good kid; he deserves it.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The First Days, Compared
Indeed, there are few differences between my first days of school in either year of Mississippi Teacher Corps (MTC). Both days were uneventful in that I picked up my students, took them to the classroom, and immediately started going over the rules and procedures over and over again. Were it not so uneventful and rather forgettable, I would have a true story to tell.
Of course, it is worth mentioning that the nerves were there. I could teach for twenty years and still be nervous on the first day. Feelings rush forward. And what was once an innocent task appears daunting. Something negligible now looms large and imposing. The first reactions. Will the students see me as a good teacher, one who enforces the rules quickly and fairly without reservation? Will the students trust me enough to take away my presentation of the content? Yes, somewhat instinctively, I make mountains from scattered pebbles. The nerves are what get me. Moving, inching closer toward the classroom, I am overcome by something raw, a mixture of worry and excitement.
Certainly, this year, I have more classrooms and more students. Last year, I was blessed to teach just two sections of sixth-grade students. At present, I have five sections of eighth-grade students. Still, the changes are relatively few. Students are students no matter where I go, whether I have five or fifty.
The very concept of time matters more in this new year. I went into my first day of school knowing I had a full week to teach my rules and procedures. Last year I was not so lucky. I knew I had two days to do everything. Further, the similarity that sticks out is the trip to lunch. In either school the trip to lunch was not immediate. Moreover, in my new site, we make a trek to the cafeteria, literally across the campus. Time was a huge factor for me on the first day of school for both years. Never feeling like I had enough, I knew I had precious little to waste.
In short, my first days at both schools were short and simple. Nothing major or unexpected occurred. I held homeroom for a long while. I had the students fill out student information sheets, reading surveys, and the typical “Getting to Know You” sheets where I ask for banal information that I rarely and never really intend to use or incorporate. For sure, the first days of school were as nice and normal as they should have been. Anything less would have been surprising. I did not write "surprises" on the requisite MTC-style lesson plans.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Open letter to first years
The things that the first years need to know reach out into the infinite. As such, I must pare my list down to a few key words. These key words are explained and given due measure, as they are applicable to not only the classroom but also.
1. Patience. Unless you met your charges in a former life, you are new to them and they are new to you. Your expectations and their expectations will differ dramatically. Accordingly, be prepared for the growing process. You have a full year to learn the likes and dislikes, hopes and fears, tragedies and triumphs, etc. Never rush with anything. That is, you will find that things you think can and should be done in a minute will take three. Concepts you found to be inexplicably simple in high school will test the students’ mental endurance. Patience should be easy to have in Mississippi. Everything moves a little slower.
Another aspect of patience is it is needed when dealing with any school-related technology. Copiers, computers, printers will all stop working in your most desperate hour. Need four emergency copies of your nine weeks test? Yep, it’s broken. Need Internet access for a killer set you spent all night planning? Yep, Internet’s down. Here, in the program, patience is more than a virtue; it’s a survival tool.
2. Creativity. You must have a thousand and one ways of getting your lesson across. Students now are part of the generation where they lose interest quickly. It’s up to you to engage them and keep them engaged. Further, you must simply create stuff. You will surprise yourself when faced with challenges. Far from it to disturb someone when you can make it or do yourself. You’ll learn to make tablecloth using sticky craft paper or sharpen a pencil with a box cutter. Also, find ways to be creative in your discipline. Sick of doling out copy assignments? Have a student stand in the corner. Make him or her clean the classroom. Play late 80s heavy metal during detention. If they happen to like it, play ballads and standards from the 1940s. Use your brain to keep your students on their toes.
3. Silence. Quite possibly, the sweetest sound there is. Not all of your classes need to involve student chatter. There will be days when you and the students need some silent time. On days when they are composing essays or working out problems in mathematics, there are moments that demand a noiseless environment. Too, when dealing with school bickering among co-workers, silence is golden. Your next-door neighbor’s complaining about how another teacher tries to run the hall is your opportunity to remain silent. Staff meetings, dreadful as they are, require silence. Take the time to listen to the nonsense administrators spew. Think to yourself, “Wouldn’t be easier if we….”
But remember it’s an administrator’s job to attempt to fly when walking will more tan suffice.
Patience, creativity, and silence are three keywords guaranteed to get you started off right. Here’s to a grand first year. Go forth.
1. Patience. Unless you met your charges in a former life, you are new to them and they are new to you. Your expectations and their expectations will differ dramatically. Accordingly, be prepared for the growing process. You have a full year to learn the likes and dislikes, hopes and fears, tragedies and triumphs, etc. Never rush with anything. That is, you will find that things you think can and should be done in a minute will take three. Concepts you found to be inexplicably simple in high school will test the students’ mental endurance. Patience should be easy to have in Mississippi. Everything moves a little slower.
Another aspect of patience is it is needed when dealing with any school-related technology. Copiers, computers, printers will all stop working in your most desperate hour. Need four emergency copies of your nine weeks test? Yep, it’s broken. Need Internet access for a killer set you spent all night planning? Yep, Internet’s down. Here, in the program, patience is more than a virtue; it’s a survival tool.
2. Creativity. You must have a thousand and one ways of getting your lesson across. Students now are part of the generation where they lose interest quickly. It’s up to you to engage them and keep them engaged. Further, you must simply create stuff. You will surprise yourself when faced with challenges. Far from it to disturb someone when you can make it or do yourself. You’ll learn to make tablecloth using sticky craft paper or sharpen a pencil with a box cutter. Also, find ways to be creative in your discipline. Sick of doling out copy assignments? Have a student stand in the corner. Make him or her clean the classroom. Play late 80s heavy metal during detention. If they happen to like it, play ballads and standards from the 1940s. Use your brain to keep your students on their toes.
3. Silence. Quite possibly, the sweetest sound there is. Not all of your classes need to involve student chatter. There will be days when you and the students need some silent time. On days when they are composing essays or working out problems in mathematics, there are moments that demand a noiseless environment. Too, when dealing with school bickering among co-workers, silence is golden. Your next-door neighbor’s complaining about how another teacher tries to run the hall is your opportunity to remain silent. Staff meetings, dreadful as they are, require silence. Take the time to listen to the nonsense administrators spew. Think to yourself, “Wouldn’t be easier if we….”
But remember it’s an administrator’s job to attempt to fly when walking will more tan suffice.
Patience, creativity, and silence are three keywords guaranteed to get you started off right. Here’s to a grand first year. Go forth.
Trying to be Different
Though summer school teaching for a second year is limited to the month of June, it is not in any way a limit on instructional creativity. One problem area I know that needs more focus is differentiation. I hope to take this month and use it to challenge myself into employing differing instructional strategies and overall presentation of material. More and more, I realize how diverse the learners are after a full year, especially in my grade level.
Gone are the days of straight lecture and instant student mastery. I hope to make my instruction more visual and hands on. I want students to see the product. Trying to combine grand showmanship and Language Arts does take its toll though. How exciting are clauses? I want to bring in manipulatives and graphic aids that put the lesson into students’ hands. Talk of parts of speech does little to generate interest. The plan is to constantly keep the students’ mind going by making them think and visualize
The days still exist where one student picks up the skill near instantly and another must have it retaught before mastery is gained. I plan to use everything I know. Remediation flash cards, foldables and graphics for those students who need practice, and enrichment writing are necessary to gain full understanding. Such is needed for summer school and the classroom. That it took me so long is a little problematic. But I hope to remedy the situation. There must always be at least three different ways to present the material to the learners.
Of note, I want to bring in more color to impart the material. I realize how important color is. Plain notebook paper and copy paper can only do so much in the classroom. Colored paper and construction paper, even in note taking, provide such a visual that it may aid in remembering content. The simple act of making trifolds with colored paper and writing definitions in colored pencils and markers is an act that aids in mastery. Bringing in color more often shows that breaking away from the ordinary is a simple step toward helping students.
In sum, this summer need not be a grand experiment. It does, however, need to be one for delivering information in different ways. Students are nowhere near the same. As such, delivery of content must cater to their learning styles. Creativity need not involve whimsy, either. Just the act of bringing in color and remediation and enrichment can lead to greater successes with material. That’s the plan. Employ differing instructional strategies and make sure there is something for every learner.
Gone are the days of straight lecture and instant student mastery. I hope to make my instruction more visual and hands on. I want students to see the product. Trying to combine grand showmanship and Language Arts does take its toll though. How exciting are clauses? I want to bring in manipulatives and graphic aids that put the lesson into students’ hands. Talk of parts of speech does little to generate interest. The plan is to constantly keep the students’ mind going by making them think and visualize
The days still exist where one student picks up the skill near instantly and another must have it retaught before mastery is gained. I plan to use everything I know. Remediation flash cards, foldables and graphics for those students who need practice, and enrichment writing are necessary to gain full understanding. Such is needed for summer school and the classroom. That it took me so long is a little problematic. But I hope to remedy the situation. There must always be at least three different ways to present the material to the learners.
Of note, I want to bring in more color to impart the material. I realize how important color is. Plain notebook paper and copy paper can only do so much in the classroom. Colored paper and construction paper, even in note taking, provide such a visual that it may aid in remembering content. The simple act of making trifolds with colored paper and writing definitions in colored pencils and markers is an act that aids in mastery. Bringing in color more often shows that breaking away from the ordinary is a simple step toward helping students.
In sum, this summer need not be a grand experiment. It does, however, need to be one for delivering information in different ways. Students are nowhere near the same. As such, delivery of content must cater to their learning styles. Creativity need not involve whimsy, either. Just the act of bringing in color and remediation and enrichment can lead to greater successes with material. That’s the plan. Employ differing instructional strategies and make sure there is something for every learner.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Open Letter to the Second Years
I find that, similar to most people, I am much better at hello. The good-byes ring too empty, too hollow. Further, a natural extension of good-bye is the evitable feeling of loss. To be sure, the second years have come full circle. Off to return to the lives they lead before this excursion, some will remain in public education. Others will run away, far away, hoping the students do well and avoid the inevitable crises associated with poverty and lack of quality education.
So every year, the Mississippi Teacher Corps takes a hodgepodge of fresh faces from all over the United States and trains them to be teachers for the underserved youth of the state. Bonds develop, friendships forged, plans written, apartments shared, unions created, etc. Within two years, a lot happens. Without going the road of trite axioms, I suggest the people of the cohort have a more measured effect on your life than the students. Granted, you see the students more. But seemingly you crave the presence of a peer for empathy, for commiseration, for drinks. The hodgepodge becomes something more, something special. Accordingly, the Class of 2009 is not just a name and year assigned to those who entered the program during that term.
The Class of 2009 encapsulates an era. Be it a brief two years or no, it is time and space where twenty-odd people shared common moments in disparate places. Just as one member of the cohort in Holly Springs uttered exasperated sighs, surely another in Jackson slammed a right foot hard into the oft-broken copier in the workroom. Their roles were reversed, I’m sure. While I still struggle with the loss of the group, I feel exceedingly content knowing that they gained a lifetime of experience and stories. Many of the stories and storytellers will enthrall future members of the program. With each passing year, the entering class finds a new generation of students. Conversations years hence will include phrases such as “Really? They were not like that when I was there.” The era is well-nigh over for the Class of 2009.
In sum, good-bye suggests too much finality. I expect none will go to parts unknown. I know many will try to do something, anything to keep making lives in the state of Mississippi better. Within the group, there will be one who takes a leadership role in the corps, one who moves into administration, and quite possibly, one who fixes the problem. The Class of 2009 comes full circle. Those returning for the third year are hooked. A calling is there. We are the better for it. The members not returning will still keep in touch with the students and faculty who impacted them in the most unexpected of ways. As crazy as this post is, it reveals what I could not deny. I am much better at hello. As such, I offer to the second years: Hello to the next chapter of your lives.
So every year, the Mississippi Teacher Corps takes a hodgepodge of fresh faces from all over the United States and trains them to be teachers for the underserved youth of the state. Bonds develop, friendships forged, plans written, apartments shared, unions created, etc. Within two years, a lot happens. Without going the road of trite axioms, I suggest the people of the cohort have a more measured effect on your life than the students. Granted, you see the students more. But seemingly you crave the presence of a peer for empathy, for commiseration, for drinks. The hodgepodge becomes something more, something special. Accordingly, the Class of 2009 is not just a name and year assigned to those who entered the program during that term.
The Class of 2009 encapsulates an era. Be it a brief two years or no, it is time and space where twenty-odd people shared common moments in disparate places. Just as one member of the cohort in Holly Springs uttered exasperated sighs, surely another in Jackson slammed a right foot hard into the oft-broken copier in the workroom. Their roles were reversed, I’m sure. While I still struggle with the loss of the group, I feel exceedingly content knowing that they gained a lifetime of experience and stories. Many of the stories and storytellers will enthrall future members of the program. With each passing year, the entering class finds a new generation of students. Conversations years hence will include phrases such as “Really? They were not like that when I was there.” The era is well-nigh over for the Class of 2009.
In sum, good-bye suggests too much finality. I expect none will go to parts unknown. I know many will try to do something, anything to keep making lives in the state of Mississippi better. Within the group, there will be one who takes a leadership role in the corps, one who moves into administration, and quite possibly, one who fixes the problem. The Class of 2009 comes full circle. Those returning for the third year are hooked. A calling is there. We are the better for it. The members not returning will still keep in touch with the students and faculty who impacted them in the most unexpected of ways. As crazy as this post is, it reveals what I could not deny. I am much better at hello. As such, I offer to the second years: Hello to the next chapter of your lives.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Ugliest Word Known to Kids
Around this time of year, the principal sends out her second e-mail. The first one was sent out in mid-December/early January. Said e-mails ask a simple question: who will be retained for the upcoming school year. Ah, yes, retention. The word that makes the kids buckle down in the last quarter. The word that makes parents query what more can be done. The word that makes teachers question their instructional practices. Retention.
By January, my retention seemed a little long. I had listed too many students as possible candidates for failure. Luckily, many students got on track for the third nine weeks and improved their chances. Even now in April, I fear it—the List—is too long. True, no teacher wants to see any student held back. But then, I counter what of my students made a goal this year to play in class, to never do any homework, to never complete any project, to never pass any test, etc. The realism walks in. The punishment for doing nothing is harsh but fair. The list starts to make sense.
While realism has its place, to be sure, common sense and practicality speak, as well. I know the research suggest nothing positive comes out of holding back a student. Further, it actually serves as encouragement to drop out in the later years. And our administrators strongly urge us to work with all students in danger of failing the grade. We meet with parents, set up tutoring, give more practice and remediation, and suggest the possibility of the child and the parent working together at home to better improve the child’s chances at promotion to a higher grade. I know that should one of my students be held back, I want it known I documented every attempt to save said student from drowning. Still, it will hurt. Then, I think back on what the research says of social promotion.
In short, retention is the short phrase that sends students and parents reeling. Everybody grows well-nigh apoplectic at thought of a student being held back. A string piece combining the main title themes from Sophie’s Choice and Schindler’s List plays hourly on the school’s PA system. At the heart of the matter really is that no one wants any child to fail. Do all you can really means do not let it happen. Work feverishly if possible so that it doesn’t happen. Long regarded as the dirtiest word in the schoolhouse, retention comes in at the last minute of every school year to whisk some child—somebody’s child—into its ever-capacious arms. I simply hope and pray it will not be (too m)any of mine.
By January, my retention seemed a little long. I had listed too many students as possible candidates for failure. Luckily, many students got on track for the third nine weeks and improved their chances. Even now in April, I fear it—the List—is too long. True, no teacher wants to see any student held back. But then, I counter what of my students made a goal this year to play in class, to never do any homework, to never complete any project, to never pass any test, etc. The realism walks in. The punishment for doing nothing is harsh but fair. The list starts to make sense.
While realism has its place, to be sure, common sense and practicality speak, as well. I know the research suggest nothing positive comes out of holding back a student. Further, it actually serves as encouragement to drop out in the later years. And our administrators strongly urge us to work with all students in danger of failing the grade. We meet with parents, set up tutoring, give more practice and remediation, and suggest the possibility of the child and the parent working together at home to better improve the child’s chances at promotion to a higher grade. I know that should one of my students be held back, I want it known I documented every attempt to save said student from drowning. Still, it will hurt. Then, I think back on what the research says of social promotion.
In short, retention is the short phrase that sends students and parents reeling. Everybody grows well-nigh apoplectic at thought of a student being held back. A string piece combining the main title themes from Sophie’s Choice and Schindler’s List plays hourly on the school’s PA system. At the heart of the matter really is that no one wants any child to fail. Do all you can really means do not let it happen. Work feverishly if possible so that it doesn’t happen. Long regarded as the dirtiest word in the schoolhouse, retention comes in at the last minute of every school year to whisk some child—somebody’s child—into its ever-capacious arms. I simply hope and pray it will not be (too m)any of mine.
Done Differently Next Year
I believe that for any school teacher, especially the novice ones, what to do differently in the next year is a grand thought. I know by midyear, I knew I wanted to better involve parents, change my handling of unruly students, and improve my communication with administrators. Hindsight, of course, allows me to revisit some rookie errors with a fresh pair of eyes and easily identify what wrong and what better to do next time.
I have indeed been lucky enough to have some truly great and supportive parents, many of whom showed genuine interest in the student, the classroom, and the curriculum. Those parents were always available to help out or could easily be reached for a conference. On the other hand, as much as I appreciated the parents who made sure to be visible, I was and am still bothered by those who ignored parent conference requests. Being sent notes that read “I work days” came across as a double-edged sword. Yes, here is a parent who is employed, wanting to take care of his/her family’s financial well-being. But I also figured said parent could not take off day during a ten-month school year to come and pick up a report card. There were, too, the parents with whom I have played phone tag all year long. Our only conversations being those where we leave ten-second messages back and forth. Next year, I hope to have every parent participate in at least part of the classroom setting.
Next comes the topic of the students who set to set out to break every rule, not do any assignments, talk incessantly, and swear up and down that the teacher is picking on them. I took an easy way this year. My disruptive players, as I called them, were removed from my class early on in the year. They were placed in the school’s alternative setting, away from activities and interactions with the other students. While this worked, I contend such moves robbed me of employing many of the strategies I had been taught during the summer training. Next year, I want to see if I can better assess what really goes on with the troublemakers.
Given many opportunities to ask questions and state challenges with administrators, I spent too much time saying all was well and the students, while challenging, were nothing that I couldn’t handle. I do not stray too far away from this, but I rather think I need more help in explaining many of the new objectives sixth graders needed to know. Further, there were occasions when I wanted to shout out loud that many of the policies suggested were foolhardy and best left for use in prisons and sanatoriums. In my endeavors next year, I will be calm and courteous, presenting challenges as minor roadblocks that need creative handling.
In sum, I have three things to focus on for next year. I want all my parents to be active and visible, letting me and the students know the parents are willing to participate. I want to improve relations with disruptive students, quickly preventing their rule breaking. Finally, I hope to work with administrators to iron out small problems before they grow larger and thus, more cumbersome.
I have indeed been lucky enough to have some truly great and supportive parents, many of whom showed genuine interest in the student, the classroom, and the curriculum. Those parents were always available to help out or could easily be reached for a conference. On the other hand, as much as I appreciated the parents who made sure to be visible, I was and am still bothered by those who ignored parent conference requests. Being sent notes that read “I work days” came across as a double-edged sword. Yes, here is a parent who is employed, wanting to take care of his/her family’s financial well-being. But I also figured said parent could not take off day during a ten-month school year to come and pick up a report card. There were, too, the parents with whom I have played phone tag all year long. Our only conversations being those where we leave ten-second messages back and forth. Next year, I hope to have every parent participate in at least part of the classroom setting.
Next comes the topic of the students who set to set out to break every rule, not do any assignments, talk incessantly, and swear up and down that the teacher is picking on them. I took an easy way this year. My disruptive players, as I called them, were removed from my class early on in the year. They were placed in the school’s alternative setting, away from activities and interactions with the other students. While this worked, I contend such moves robbed me of employing many of the strategies I had been taught during the summer training. Next year, I want to see if I can better assess what really goes on with the troublemakers.
Given many opportunities to ask questions and state challenges with administrators, I spent too much time saying all was well and the students, while challenging, were nothing that I couldn’t handle. I do not stray too far away from this, but I rather think I need more help in explaining many of the new objectives sixth graders needed to know. Further, there were occasions when I wanted to shout out loud that many of the policies suggested were foolhardy and best left for use in prisons and sanatoriums. In my endeavors next year, I will be calm and courteous, presenting challenges as minor roadblocks that need creative handling.
In sum, I have three things to focus on for next year. I want all my parents to be active and visible, letting me and the students know the parents are willing to participate. I want to improve relations with disruptive students, quickly preventing their rule breaking. Finally, I hope to work with administrators to iron out small problems before they grow larger and thus, more cumbersome.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Free Write: Super Ideas
Yesterday all the new teachers in the district had a meeting with the superintendent. We were told now that we are nearing the end of the school year, it is time to buckle down, not let up. We were encouraged not to fall into the dreaded trap of easing up on the kids.
And so it goes, we enter the last lap, needing to go at full throttle and ready the kids to pass the Big State Test.
Everyone in the district touts following the lesson line. It is supposedly research based and incredibly sound. But since it was implemented, my school’s test results and scores have been steadily declining. I find myself torn. Of course, I want to follow the rules and adhere to the lesson line. But I know my kids. I have the students who scored lowest on last year’s state test. There are certain things that they do not know or get. I go back constantly to reteach lessons they were supposed to master in third and fourth grade.
Now as we near the fourth nine weeks of the school year. We will go back and reteach everything from the year. New lesson plans must be created. New group work activities must be planned. New tests must be aligned. I will be drowning in paperwork. By now, that is normal. What I am interested in is in finding a way for my kids to just get it. It will not come overnight. The students need to know sound devices and drawing conclusions. But as these things were taught and covered twice already. Nothing stuck. I hate falling back on the same trope I keep hinting at all year. In the fourth nine weeks, my kids still cannot read.
They go to the reading specialist for ninety minutes a day. Their reading has remained level since day one. They still mispronounce the same words. They still say “because” everyone they see “became.” The reading section on the MCT2 may just crush. Do I want to sound so harsh? No. But is it the truth? Yes. In class, I read t them often ad model how reading paragraphs should occur on our projector. All to no avail. Even my students refuse to admit they struggle with reading. I hear they just do not like reading or reading is boring. Even for those who volunteer to read passages stumble and falter over small or grade-level words. A misunderstood word can cost points on the state test. The reading accounts for half of the test.
Going back to the main point, the superintendent inquired of our struggles with the students. I remained mum. Yet I feel hopeless. How the heck does one get students to answer correctly seven questions based on a five-hundred word reading selection? As I monitor the kids come May during the MCT2, my heart will go out to them. They will ask Mr. Farmer to pronounce a word or what does so and so and such and such word means? I cannot say anything. They will circle any answer out of desperation.
In sum, my suggestion should have been that the district gets some great reading teachers in at the primary school. This situation I face is disheartening.
And so it goes, we enter the last lap, needing to go at full throttle and ready the kids to pass the Big State Test.
Everyone in the district touts following the lesson line. It is supposedly research based and incredibly sound. But since it was implemented, my school’s test results and scores have been steadily declining. I find myself torn. Of course, I want to follow the rules and adhere to the lesson line. But I know my kids. I have the students who scored lowest on last year’s state test. There are certain things that they do not know or get. I go back constantly to reteach lessons they were supposed to master in third and fourth grade.
Now as we near the fourth nine weeks of the school year. We will go back and reteach everything from the year. New lesson plans must be created. New group work activities must be planned. New tests must be aligned. I will be drowning in paperwork. By now, that is normal. What I am interested in is in finding a way for my kids to just get it. It will not come overnight. The students need to know sound devices and drawing conclusions. But as these things were taught and covered twice already. Nothing stuck. I hate falling back on the same trope I keep hinting at all year. In the fourth nine weeks, my kids still cannot read.
They go to the reading specialist for ninety minutes a day. Their reading has remained level since day one. They still mispronounce the same words. They still say “because” everyone they see “became.” The reading section on the MCT2 may just crush. Do I want to sound so harsh? No. But is it the truth? Yes. In class, I read t them often ad model how reading paragraphs should occur on our projector. All to no avail. Even my students refuse to admit they struggle with reading. I hear they just do not like reading or reading is boring. Even for those who volunteer to read passages stumble and falter over small or grade-level words. A misunderstood word can cost points on the state test. The reading accounts for half of the test.
Going back to the main point, the superintendent inquired of our struggles with the students. I remained mum. Yet I feel hopeless. How the heck does one get students to answer correctly seven questions based on a five-hundred word reading selection? As I monitor the kids come May during the MCT2, my heart will go out to them. They will ask Mr. Farmer to pronounce a word or what does so and so and such and such word means? I cannot say anything. They will circle any answer out of desperation.
In sum, my suggestion should have been that the district gets some great reading teachers in at the primary school. This situation I face is disheartening.
Considering MTC?
For those college seniors looking for something different after graduation or even those who finished college a few years back, MTC might be of interest for numerous reasons.
--If you want to teach and are passionate about teaching. If you find yourself wanting to lead a classroom and shape young minds, you’ll want to join MTC.
-- Indeed, if you want to be challenged by the occasional hopelessness of public education, MTC is the right fit. You will realize that your own upbringing and public education were not as bad as you thought. I know I did. You will find it that the administrators do not always do or know what is best for the students or the district.
--If you can give up your normal life and existence and dedicate them to students who will resist your instruction but come to realize you are there everyday for them, MTC needs you.
--If you want to live in a different part of the country (assuming you are not from the South), MTC beckons. The Delta has been described as a world unto itself, seemingly part of a state, but more self-contained than the tiniest of island nations. Even northern Mississippi offers much to the imagination. In the span of a few highway exits, you can easily traverse suburbs ad hill country in a stretch of ten minutes.
--If you want to give back or be of service, teaching in the corps is perfect. If throughout your life, you have committed to helping others, then a two-year commitment is just what you need.
On the other hand…
--If you need to something to do for two years, avoid MTC. The lives and education of children are not hobbies or projects. Futures are at stake. Stay home.
--If you are still trying to figure it out. That is, you are or have been aimless for a while hence, MTC seems likes a good idea or good fit. You may really want to teach.
--If you only want a free degree, don’t bother. Service is still expected of you. And you still have to teach every day, even in the summer.
--If you want two years of simply taking it easy, do not apply. You will never work so hard in your life. Be prepared to give up sleep, friendships, and sometimes a personal life. Strange though it may be, your students and your job become your everything.
--If you don’t like children, it is obvious. Do not even approach the website. It has children on it.
--If you like suggesting how to do things the right way at inappropriate times, stay put. Your bosses at the school may implement things that are silly or even frightening. It is your job to smile and nod.
It is my firm belief that joining MTC will change lives for the teacher and the students.
--If you want to teach and are passionate about teaching. If you find yourself wanting to lead a classroom and shape young minds, you’ll want to join MTC.
-- Indeed, if you want to be challenged by the occasional hopelessness of public education, MTC is the right fit. You will realize that your own upbringing and public education were not as bad as you thought. I know I did. You will find it that the administrators do not always do or know what is best for the students or the district.
--If you can give up your normal life and existence and dedicate them to students who will resist your instruction but come to realize you are there everyday for them, MTC needs you.
--If you want to live in a different part of the country (assuming you are not from the South), MTC beckons. The Delta has been described as a world unto itself, seemingly part of a state, but more self-contained than the tiniest of island nations. Even northern Mississippi offers much to the imagination. In the span of a few highway exits, you can easily traverse suburbs ad hill country in a stretch of ten minutes.
--If you want to give back or be of service, teaching in the corps is perfect. If throughout your life, you have committed to helping others, then a two-year commitment is just what you need.
On the other hand…
--If you need to something to do for two years, avoid MTC. The lives and education of children are not hobbies or projects. Futures are at stake. Stay home.
--If you are still trying to figure it out. That is, you are or have been aimless for a while hence, MTC seems likes a good idea or good fit. You may really want to teach.
--If you only want a free degree, don’t bother. Service is still expected of you. And you still have to teach every day, even in the summer.
--If you want two years of simply taking it easy, do not apply. You will never work so hard in your life. Be prepared to give up sleep, friendships, and sometimes a personal life. Strange though it may be, your students and your job become your everything.
--If you don’t like children, it is obvious. Do not even approach the website. It has children on it.
--If you like suggesting how to do things the right way at inappropriate times, stay put. Your bosses at the school may implement things that are silly or even frightening. It is your job to smile and nod.
It is my firm belief that joining MTC will change lives for the teacher and the students.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Lives of Others
As a teacher, I see my students but for a few each hours each day. Now after working with them for this long, I start to wonder. What are their lives like once they get home? Are they fed dinner every night? Do they have a quiet place to study? Are they taking care of other siblings? Are they getting enough sleep? Such things should not be in my thoughts as much. But, alas, they will fade away.
I notice that, during early morning tutoring, many students race in, grab a breakfast, and start devouring it. My mind starts racing. Did the child have dinner? When was the last time the child ate? Was it yesterday’s lunch? My day starts filling up with questions. Said students are also those who come in with clothes that are far from clean, that are torn, that are snug, and that are not uniform regulation. What does one say? The students have what they have, and have been wearing it all year long.
I do not feel a complex is setting in. But perhaps there are some anthropological leanings deep within. Many of my students have siblings who attend the school. The same things I see in my students, I recognize in their sisters and brothers. Then, I start imagining home life for my kids. There are questions I want to ask, but I strange such questions strange. Do you need anything? Is everything all right? My fear is that I will be accused of prying or be labbelled insensitive to the plight of my students. What is worse, it may not be not be my business what happens once they leave the schoolhouse.
Occasionally, I have a student who opens up and lets me know s/he had a bad night or didn’t have dinner. I want not to cross a line and venture into savior territory. But then I muse nowadays teachers are counselors, life coaches, tutors, reading specialists, etc. Because so many of the students live in a housing project right down the street from the school, I realize it would be easy to check up on them. I often say no to that idea. Still, a feeling washes over me or a mood passes through me letting me know that all is not right with too many of the students. They hold back, not wanting to say everything, as do I. It is a strange little game we have all become too comfortable playing.
I think too much maybe. I must be over thinking the situation. My students’ lives are not perfect. Nor do I expect them to be. I guess part of me, since I started working at the school, has become interested in the lives of others.
I notice that, during early morning tutoring, many students race in, grab a breakfast, and start devouring it. My mind starts racing. Did the child have dinner? When was the last time the child ate? Was it yesterday’s lunch? My day starts filling up with questions. Said students are also those who come in with clothes that are far from clean, that are torn, that are snug, and that are not uniform regulation. What does one say? The students have what they have, and have been wearing it all year long.
I do not feel a complex is setting in. But perhaps there are some anthropological leanings deep within. Many of my students have siblings who attend the school. The same things I see in my students, I recognize in their sisters and brothers. Then, I start imagining home life for my kids. There are questions I want to ask, but I strange such questions strange. Do you need anything? Is everything all right? My fear is that I will be accused of prying or be labbelled insensitive to the plight of my students. What is worse, it may not be not be my business what happens once they leave the schoolhouse.
Occasionally, I have a student who opens up and lets me know s/he had a bad night or didn’t have dinner. I want not to cross a line and venture into savior territory. But then I muse nowadays teachers are counselors, life coaches, tutors, reading specialists, etc. Because so many of the students live in a housing project right down the street from the school, I realize it would be easy to check up on them. I often say no to that idea. Still, a feeling washes over me or a mood passes through me letting me know that all is not right with too many of the students. They hold back, not wanting to say everything, as do I. It is a strange little game we have all become too comfortable playing.
I think too much maybe. I must be over thinking the situation. My students’ lives are not perfect. Nor do I expect them to be. I guess part of me, since I started working at the school, has become interested in the lives of others.
TFA vs. MTC
To answer this multi-part question, one must carefully consider the similarities and differences for both Teach for America (TFA) and Mississippi Teacher Corps (MTC). Luckily, the comparisons are so minute that it is easier for this writer to focus only on the differences. When looking at the advantages and disadvantages for the two teaching programs, MTC stands tall, not so much because it is less work or even less demanding, but that MTC applies the “work smart, not work hard” standard.
To begin, MTC is not as callous to reject anyone with a form letter. Because the applicant pool is smaller than TFA’s, the Corps can personalize its rejections. Also, once a candidate is accepted into MTC, s/he is only discharged according to bylaws set in place well before training begins, rules upon which both parties agree to. While summer training includes a bus ride, it is nowhere near as long as TFA. Summer school is meant to be practical and introduce new teachers to a real-world classroom, and, mostly, it is.
Concerning payment, MTC gives its cohort a summer stipend of $1,000. Compared to what TFA gives, it is akin to having an extra thousand dollars. MTC provides supplies for the summer and works with teachers in obtaining whatever is needed. Another plus for the Corps. On that note, MTC has already placed many of its candidates before summer training begins. TFA cannot suggest that; nor should it pretend to have jobs at the ready.
In noting the differences in the programs, one comparison does rear. Candidates still leave both programs, for reasons that are not always explained, but seemingly can be ascribed to not being what someone thought it was. Certainly, there is a kernel of truth to that. To prevent members form leaving, MTC could provide counseling and have available former members of the Corps who too struggled but ultimately stayed on board.
In sum, one cannot expect that from TFA, as it left the education business long ago. It is now just a business meant to further its name recognition. Perhaps that is why MTC is the better choice. It remains set on alternate route teaching and putting twenty-five qualified teachers into critical-needs districts. More candidates will stay once they see the big picture: the program supports you but cannot read minds. If one struggles, speak. If one needs help, seek. If one really sets out to adhere to either TFA’s or MTC’s mission, teach.
To begin, MTC is not as callous to reject anyone with a form letter. Because the applicant pool is smaller than TFA’s, the Corps can personalize its rejections. Also, once a candidate is accepted into MTC, s/he is only discharged according to bylaws set in place well before training begins, rules upon which both parties agree to. While summer training includes a bus ride, it is nowhere near as long as TFA. Summer school is meant to be practical and introduce new teachers to a real-world classroom, and, mostly, it is.
Concerning payment, MTC gives its cohort a summer stipend of $1,000. Compared to what TFA gives, it is akin to having an extra thousand dollars. MTC provides supplies for the summer and works with teachers in obtaining whatever is needed. Another plus for the Corps. On that note, MTC has already placed many of its candidates before summer training begins. TFA cannot suggest that; nor should it pretend to have jobs at the ready.
In noting the differences in the programs, one comparison does rear. Candidates still leave both programs, for reasons that are not always explained, but seemingly can be ascribed to not being what someone thought it was. Certainly, there is a kernel of truth to that. To prevent members form leaving, MTC could provide counseling and have available former members of the Corps who too struggled but ultimately stayed on board.
In sum, one cannot expect that from TFA, as it left the education business long ago. It is now just a business meant to further its name recognition. Perhaps that is why MTC is the better choice. It remains set on alternate route teaching and putting twenty-five qualified teachers into critical-needs districts. More candidates will stay once they see the big picture: the program supports you but cannot read minds. If one struggles, speak. If one needs help, seek. If one really sets out to adhere to either TFA’s or MTC’s mission, teach.
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