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.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
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.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Second-Year Perspective
My initial impressions were, I contend, accurate. At first meeting, they came across as a hard-pressed team of survivors. Few looked a little world weary. Alas, first-year teaching does that for you.
The many with whom I have had the chance to speak with were open and very honest, putting their experiences, both good and bad, into a positive light. They continuous admit their faults and know there is room for growth. As is now clear, I hold them as masters of perseverance, much as I did this summer. No one in the bunch came across as a defeated person bereft of fight.
The second years who had troubles with their administrators and districts, I feel an especial kinship with. They explained to me early on principals and district staff do things that make sense to absolutely no one, save said principals and district staff. There are those days when a memo goes around. One never knows if it is a joke or not. Then there are those days where one does not know if he should laugh or shout. So I combine the two. I go to my empty class and have a shaugh.
Now as the year moves on, I know I have not had as much interaction with the second years as I would have liked. But seeing on them on those Saturday mornings is refreshing. They are there to offer a kind word and, at the very least, willing to ask how one is and how the students fare. To be sure, I do not expect much more than that. Though there is comfort in being a second year, there is little time to shoot the breeze when they have just as much as work as we first years. So the niceties suffice. Pulses are checked; hearts are beating. The school wears one down; the second years know this. But they are pleased to know that the first years are alive, maybe not well, but alive nonetheless.
I hope to answer this post again in May. The second years will have come full circle with a host of information and tips and strategies to impart. I look forward to that. Their faces will show looks of resolve and loss. Not loss in the sense of tragedy. But loss in terms of two years flew by with nary a moment for the second years to stop and catch their collective breath.
In sum, my impressions are the same. A great group of people were presented back in June 2010. Thus far, they are shared great things with the first years. I am sure it was not half as much as the second years would have liked, but I am grateful for the information already given. “Keep in touch” sounds so trite. With the second years, it is said with such professorial urgency, the first years had better heed their requests.
The many with whom I have had the chance to speak with were open and very honest, putting their experiences, both good and bad, into a positive light. They continuous admit their faults and know there is room for growth. As is now clear, I hold them as masters of perseverance, much as I did this summer. No one in the bunch came across as a defeated person bereft of fight.
The second years who had troubles with their administrators and districts, I feel an especial kinship with. They explained to me early on principals and district staff do things that make sense to absolutely no one, save said principals and district staff. There are those days when a memo goes around. One never knows if it is a joke or not. Then there are those days where one does not know if he should laugh or shout. So I combine the two. I go to my empty class and have a shaugh.
Now as the year moves on, I know I have not had as much interaction with the second years as I would have liked. But seeing on them on those Saturday mornings is refreshing. They are there to offer a kind word and, at the very least, willing to ask how one is and how the students fare. To be sure, I do not expect much more than that. Though there is comfort in being a second year, there is little time to shoot the breeze when they have just as much as work as we first years. So the niceties suffice. Pulses are checked; hearts are beating. The school wears one down; the second years know this. But they are pleased to know that the first years are alive, maybe not well, but alive nonetheless.
I hope to answer this post again in May. The second years will have come full circle with a host of information and tips and strategies to impart. I look forward to that. Their faces will show looks of resolve and loss. Not loss in the sense of tragedy. But loss in terms of two years flew by with nary a moment for the second years to stop and catch their collective breath.
In sum, my impressions are the same. A great group of people were presented back in June 2010. Thus far, they are shared great things with the first years. I am sure it was not half as much as the second years would have liked, but I am grateful for the information already given. “Keep in touch” sounds so trite. With the second years, it is said with such professorial urgency, the first years had better heed their requests.
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