By Garrett Hedman

I’ve been thinking about this post for a long time. I’ve been thinking about these 474 students a long time.

About a week ago I received the list of students retaking the state tests students must pass to graduate. There were 474 students REtaking the Algebra I test. 474! Put that number in the context of 1500 students that go to our school and…and I’m glad I’m here to help.

During testing week, school productivity yields for this logistical nightmare. Every day we only have one class of students for eight hours. Because I didn’t want to have the third of the class taking tests fall too far behind on material, I opted to have a chemistry review rather than teach 8 hours of new material. Other teachers avoid eight-hour lessons by showing an eight-hour movie marathon, and because many teachers show movies, my students retaliated at the idea of a Chemistry review. Fortunately for my students, during the midst of the review another class joined because their teacher needed to administer a test. Now having a third of my class gone and twenty new students in the classroom, I clearly understood that the powers that be did not want much instruction completed that day. I stopped the review and began an “educational movie marathon” with Planet Earth, and as tough as I thought I had it, the students who take tests have a difficult time with the week too.

By proctoring the English II test, I saw the reality of the monster they were facing. I have heard these tests labeled as “endurance tests” because they are so large. There is also no time limit to the test—students can take all day, which several did. In the class that I proctored, two students finished in a couple hours, most finished in three hours, and a handful of students took four hours. My very last student didn’t fall asleep once (as many do), and spent the full time (6 hours) overcoming this obstacle that is in her way of graduating.

But there’s hope. Foremost, I really do believe with the right instruction many of these students can excel. Being a chemistry teacher I have the opportunity to see how students learn without requiring too much previous knowledge. From this, I’ve really found that anyone can learn science, can learn chemistry, they just need the right motivation. So when I found out some students who were doing exceptionally well in my class were also retaking math tests, all I wanted to do is help because I’ve seen them succeed.

Many of my peers have similar feelings. For the past several months, students retaking Algebra I could go to an after school remediation class to try to learn the material they needed to know to pass the test. Why mention this? All the classes were taught by Teach for America teachers spending their extra time helping students learn. There is nothing like walking down the hall at the end of the day and seeing three inspired teachers teach a room crammed of Algebra students. This is also the only opportunity for students to get remediation for the specific tests unless they retake the class, which is actually uncommon because students can pass the class, but not the test.

So the situation is large, yet there seems to be hope, but what does it all really add up to? A while back, I was teaching a class on how to name hydrocarbons and was really having some difficulty investing some students in my class. While trying to find a way to convince students to try, one student muttered under his breath, “this isn’t a tested subject, why do have to learn so much?” This question struck me hard. I felt like chemistry was secondary to Algebra I, to US history. I could only ask what do these students really want? Or better yet, what are we telling students they need?

I am still searching for the answer.

By Nate Reaven

I do not know what to do about this.

This past weekend one of my students was shot through the chest. Apparently, a family friend turned enemy entered into my student’s house at 2:00 am, killed the father, and shot my student, who is currently in the hospital but should be physically okay within a couple of weeks.

What do I say? How do I react?

How do I change? What do I change?  Do I change?

We passed out notes to our class and had them write a get-better soon note to the student. His friends and favorite teachers went to visit him at the hospital and saw that he was in high spirits. What do I say? Sorry? Is that enough to make it better? Is that ever enough?

How do I act? Like nothing happened? “Move along class, there is nothing to see here. Please turn to page 218 in your books.”

Is this just something that happens? Should I have expected something different?

How do I change? Do I teach differently now? Do I let up, let them slide a little bit more, let them get away with talking out of turn? Or, should my class become stricter, teach them discipline instead of grammar, life skills in place of quality of living?

What do I change? Do I change the way I teach? Change the way I interact with my students? My mother said something interesting to me. She said the teachers that make it into the movies are not the ones teaching grammar every morning. They are the teachers who make the classroom a place of social well-being, a place of comfort –first. The teachers that focus on creating self-confidence as the learning target. The movie teachers are those teachers that consider the the academic goals, not secondary, but certainly second priority. How much do those movie-teachers actually teach? Do their students walk away from their classrooms more intelligent, more confident or both? Do those students get shot at 2:00 am in the morning?

Do I change? I had nothing to do with what happened, and there is nothing I could have done to prevent what happened. Maybe I should not feel any sense of obligation at all. On the other hand, the reason I got into teaching was to make a difference.  What kind of difference?

I do not know what to do about this.

by Janessa Jordan

Technically, I have been working on this blog since Wednesday. Wednesday was the first day that I was really overwhelmingly frustrated in the classroom. My students were yelling, disengaged, and disrespectful. I had collected homework which demonstrated my students’ lack of understanding and lack of general will to work hard.

In my frustration, I wrote a post that was full of hopelessness. It called out the education system that breeds disengagement and a lack of hope in my students. By not providing the necessary time, resources, and manpower that my students need in order to really learn, my students have learned how to skate by and how their voices don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

Those thoughts saddened me so. I have always been such a dreamer–hopeful about the positive change that I can make in my students’ lives. Yet, for the first time I was allowing my frustrations about the system and my own teaching abilities to smother the hope that I’d built up for all of the years that I’ve been longing to be a teacher.

Then, as I was finishing planning my unit on the Kite Runner, I stumbled upon this poem by Rumi:

Who are we in this complicated world?

if we come to sleep
we are His drowsy ones.

and if we come to wake
we are in His hands.

if we come to weeping,
we are His cloud full of raindrops.

and if we come to laughing,
we are His lightning in that moment.

if we come to anger and battle,
it is the reflection of His wrath.

and if we come to peace and pardon,
it is the reflection of His love.

who are we in this complicated world?

************************************

I was so humbled by this poem. I get to choose how to cope with my students’ lack of motivation, my students’ far-below-grade-level abilities, and the education system’s ongoing barrage of legislation which seems to penalize teachers and kill creativity in students (see http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity.html) . Regardless of what circumstances I have been given, I can still choose how to react. However I choose to respond, my heart ultimately carries momentum in the world, beyond myself and my own classroom, and into a school and a system that desperately deserves positivity and hope.

Here’s to Monday: A brand new day in a brand new week with a brand new attitude. In this complicated world, I choose to “come to peace and pardon.”

Friends, families, and visitors.

For the past couple weeks I have experienced many stories in my new field. However, I did not want to rush telling any of the stories because I believe they deserve to be fully articulated…not thrown together. I will begin next week with detailed stories on my adventure, but for now, here is my roommate’s adventure. His blog is
http://tomgiar.wordpress.com/ if you would like to read more from him.

Here is Your Life, Part Two
By Tom Giardino

Here is your life, young teacher:

It is 8:26AM, on August 24th. There are 7 children in your classroom. None of them are your actual students.

It is 8:29AM, and there are 34 children in your classroom. 29 of them are your actual students.

It is 8:33AM, and there are 28 children in your classroom. All of them are your actual students, but you are still missing one, who chased a boy down the hallway. When she returns, you’ll tell her that she’s tardy. She will care none. How much care will she have? None care.

***

Here is your life:

It is 11:23am. Your 2nd block class consists of 24 girls and 4 boys. A cockroach the size of Danny Devito just scurried across your classroom floor.

Good luck regaining control, sucker.

***

Here is your life: An assistant principal has asked you whether or not you’d be interested in being the faculty advisor for drama club. Your athletic director just dropped in to inform you that unfortunately, as it turns out your coaching job will not include a stipend. The Greenville Arts Commission has emailed you, asking if your theater class is interested in putting on a play for the local elementary school children.

You look up “overwhelmed” in the dictionary and find a photograph of yourself, disheveled but smiling. You put the drama/theater stuff on the back burner for now.

Coaching for free seems only fair, considering how outrageously overpaid you were for coaching soccer back in Seattle. It dawns on you: that particular avenue of employment will eventually turn into a zero-sum game.

***

Here is your life:

It is now 2:12pm. There are about 18 students in your classroom. Some of them are probably your students, but you have no way of knowing because you are too busy herding children away from the massive fight that broke out down the hall. Police officers are hurling teenagers into offices. Administrators are slamming doors. Must be Tuesday again.

After gathering up as many of your students as you can, and attempting to start class in spite of the ruckus on the other side of your door, your principal pokes his head inside your classroom. Because of the overflow of students being detained and parents being called, your classroom has been requisitioned. This is war, martial law is in effect.

You don’t complain. These things happen. You woefully escort your entire class down the hall, up the stairs and into another teacher’s empty classroom.

This is really not that big of a deal, you realize, as your Theater I students perform their own carefully crafted mini-skits.

Grateful that none of your children were involved in the actual fighting, you breathe a sigh of relief when the bell finally rings.

***

Newspaper story about the fight:

Click to enlarge.

Lockdown — Click to enlarge. I really recommend you read this newspaper article. “A centralized location” = Mr G’s classroom

***

Here is your life:

It is 4:18pm. The school day has ended. Three items are sitting on your desk.

One is a small scented candle from Wal-Mart. The next is a tupperware container full of candy. The third is a spicy pickle in a plastic package.

In your exhaustion, you are utterly befuddled by these objects. A beat passes, and you remember that they are presents that other teachers gave you throughout the day.

Because today is your twenty-second birthday.

You remember your 17th birthday because you kissed a pretty girl that night, and your friends threw you a surprise party. You remember your 21st birthday because you were in San Francisco, en route to Big Sur on the road trip of a lifetime.

Will you remember this birthday? Maybe. Maybe not.

***

It is 10:18pm. You fall asleep with a stomach full of cheescake and a heart full of regret, missing your old life and cursing your new life.

But you wake up realizing that you wouldn’t trade this new life for anything in the world. Not even a spicy pickle in a plastic package.

***

My roommate works with a student after school

The view out my bedroom window.

Today marks my 8th day in the classroom as an urban educator! Within the first two weeks, I experienced all of the craziness of schedule mistakes, mis-communication from administration, and new classes beginning on the second week (yes…our schedule was switched and we began a brand new class on the second week of school…), but the most amazing part of the first two weeks was my wonderful students. So far, we have had insightful discussions about the goodness of life, whether or not certain wrongs are unforgivable, and whether or not hate speech should be regulated. I’ve been amazed by how much students enjoy sharing their opinions on topics such as philosophy and politics. Not only do they enjoy sharing their opinions, they have very good opinions to share!

However, I’ve also been amazed by how low skilled some of my students are. In reading their reflections and grading their pre-year assessments, I’ve recognized a huge gap in my students’ skills and knowledge. On their practice ACT exam, the average score for my seniors was a 13. I definitely have my work cut out for me this year.

As a teacher, I have become a person of influence in my students’ lives. They want to know my opinion about everything from movies to religion. Furthermore, my opinion about who they are matters to how they see themselves. Today, the class was participating in a Socratic seminar about The Kite Runner. All of the students had written a reflection and I was walking around the room, monitoring who was contributing to the conversation and who was zoned out. One of my students, M, has a lot of behavior problems and is constantly distracting other students. I walked around to his desk, asked to read his reflection, and whispered to him, “You know, this is a really good reflection. You should share this with the class!” Less than a minute later, M raised his hand to contribute his opinion with the class.

Later in the discussion, I walked to another student, S, and asked to read his reflection. S is always quiet during class, and I know that a lot of the time he checks out of the discussion, even though he’s very smart. I read S’s reflection and said, “S, that’s an awesome opinion. I know that everyone else would like to hear it too.” Once again, a couple minutes later, S raised his hand and contributed his opinion to the class–which everyone clapped and cheered for, because it was really good.

Lastly, during a debate we were having in class, one of my lowest students, R, was having a hard time grasping the argument of the reading, so I read it with him and the rest of his group. I asked R to paraphrase the paragraph that he read and then asked him to pull out the argument. With just a little bit of prodding, he articulated a well-crafted argument. In many classes, R would have not contributed his opinion, but today he chose to stand up three times during the debate and argue his case.

I’m learning that everything I do in class has an effect on my students–everything. I have to choose to be intentionally positive with my students, vocalizing their strengths and when they do things well. From what I’ve seen, students respond so well to positive praise, even the kids that are the hardest to reach. If these kids can start to see their self-worth in the first two weeks, imagine where they’ll be in the first two months!