Time flies when you're having fun

Where has the time gone? So many things have transpired since my last entry. Allow me to divulge but a few:

-I chose a student and spent a day last week following him around to all his classes for three reasons. First, I wanted to see how he acted in other classes compared to how he acts in English. Second, I wanted to see other teachers' styles. Last, I wanted to experience a day in the shoes of my students. Going from class to class, dealing with different personalities and trying to retain all the information given is a taxing experience. In order to give you a better picture of what that day was like I will have to expand it and make it its own entry though.

-Yesterday I used a classroom discipline technique I learned in my methods course. Two girls were passing notes during class (quite openly as well, they sat right in the front and made no attempt to have some sort of tact in their communications) and I was faced with a question. How should I deal with this situation? Should I quietly take the note from them and then speak to them about it after class? Perhaps, but that leaves me open for an encounter should one of the girls protest the fact that I am taking their note, which would slow down the class as a whole and that doesn't seem fair. Another option was to just ignore it, but I did not want that kind of behavior to go unaddressed. So, I decided the best option was to ignore it while I was directly instructing and saying something while they were working in groups. Once they were in groups I went up to the girls and said, "I love to write as much as anyone, but we do not pass notes during class. It is disrespectful." They then shot right back a whole mess of words that I was not even trying to hear. I just repeated, in a calm and even manner, "We do not pass notes in class." Again, a barrage of excuses. Again, I repeated "We do not pass notes in class." Finally, after realizing I was not going to back down, they conceded. Victory.

There are more, which I will be inserting from time to time, but that's enough for now.

As for how my life has been so far, after 5 1/2 weeks of student teaching, I can say with confidence: fufilling.

The days fly by so fast that it's difficult to keep track of where I am what I am doing. However, there is one observation that I have made that seems to make a difference in how much students look forward to being in a specific class and how much grief they give the teacher. So much of this job is working with people of all ages, especially young people. Doing this job well requires an incredible amount of people skills in order to keep yourself and others motivated. In order to be certified to teach I need to take three state mandated tests, complete my undergraduate degree and complete a plethora of tasks and requirements. All of these assessments measure your proficiency in your content area, pedagogy and content-specific pedagogy. Somehow, though, I wish that in between my "HIV/AIDS Workshop" and my Methods course there was a "How to be Nice Workshop." Granted, I am an extreme novice. As green as broccoli. But if you treat students nicely, with a warm smile and a genuine 'hello', it changes learning from a chore to an enjoyable experience.

Proof

I’ll start with an apology for not making an entry yesterday. Nothing too out of the ordinary happened, but most significantly I am trying to maintain my social life throughout this experience. After my seminar class I decided to go to a program my college had on inter-religious dialogues with a focus on peace. I figured it would be a good escape for me from the life of academia. Once I got home I still needed to make lunch for the next day and do a little bit of reading. This left me with only enough energy to shower, brush my teeth and take out my contacts. Tonight after student teaching I went out to dinner with some friends in an attempt to maintain some semblance of a relationship.

Of all the advice I was given about student teaching, I’m finding that one is significantly more prominent than the others: this thing is exhausting.

Even as I stare down my computer tonight (at the insomnious hour of 10:00 pm) it is a struggle to fight the urge that compels me to move three feet onto my warm, comfortable, inviting bed. The reason I am so tired is because from the moment I get to school at 7:00 am to when I leave at 3:30 pm, I am on. I am attentive, excited to be there, talking to students, walking around and always listening. Listening to teachers, staff, and students talk to me and especially talk to each other. This may sound strange, listening to other people’s conversations, but don’t think of it as eavesdropping. Instead, think of it as research for my demographics. Only when I know what is important to the lives of the people of this community (specifically the student population) can I design a curriculum that is truly connected and relevant to students’ lives.

This is but one of a few skills I have seen master teachers employ regularly which I have specifically noted and been working on for the last week or so. These include:

The Ear: A teacher’s clairvoyant ability to look completely engrossed on one task while having their undivided attention on a nearby conversation. This is a difficult skill to acquire because most people are used to reading lips when listening to someone speak. Using this skill, teachers can gain information ranging from curriculum difficulty to students’ outside interest.

The Strut: Master teachers feel comfortable moving around all areas of the classroom. They move in a slow, deliberate and calculated manner like a lion stalking its prey. Instead of deer, the teacher-lion hunts for learning opportunities, pouncing at the sight of a student ready to discover.

The Look: Every student knows the look. The look transcends every boundary of culture and time. The look ranges from teacher to teacher, but its effect is universal. Whenever a student is doing something they are not supposed to, the teacher stares at them in such a way that even if the student is facing the opposite direction they can feel that they are being silently reprimanded. This is one of the most powerful tools in the master teacher’s repertoire.

These are just a few examples; more will come as I pick up on them.

Changing gears, today was my first day teaching a lesson. I’ll spare you the details, but I basically reviewed the significance of reading and some literary elements and devices. It was simple, but I made the lesson as dynamic, relevant and interesting as I could. When I was done, my cooperating teacher told me I did a good job and that my passion really showed. As I was teaching, I really tried to teach from the heart. I genuinely love literature and I see the study of language arts as beneficial to a young person’s development in their understanding of the world. When I got this feedback, it was all I needed to hear. After the period was over there was a free period so other teachers were coming in and out of the room. I could see their mouths moving, but literally no sounds came out. I was so emotional about what had just happened, so excited about the process of planting seeds of knowledge and wisdom, that I kept replaying scenes over and over in my head.

If what my seminar professor says is true (An occupation is a job, a vocation is a calling), then today is proof to me that I have found my calling.

One last note. Today's date is September 11. When asked for advice about what students should write about once they get into class, I suggested to my cooperating teacher that they write about what they remember about the event. She then suggested that we offer a freewrite instead because most of the kids were only 7 years-old when it happened. The majority only know what they have heard from television or their families. By and far, as my cooperating teacher said, “September 11 is about as personally significant to these students as Pearl Harbor.”

Unreal.

I am the Tiger Woods of books

Today the kids were in for a special treat. After all the business of checking and assigning homework was completed, every class got to read from the book of their choice for the entire time. My job was to go around and record what each student was reading as well as what page they were on so we can monitor their weekly progress. After going around and seeing the awesome diversity in book choice I could come to no other conclusion than this: I love books.

A lot of the boys were reading sports-related books, while many girls were engrossed in teenage girl-related novels (kind of like chick flicks, but the book form). A solid number were reading one of Harry Potter’s latest adventures, while still others chose books that I found fascinating, curious and downright unexpected.

Three girls were reading full-length books in which the entire narrative was written in the style of an Instant Message conversation.

One girl was reading The Notebook for the second time. Her reason? She knows more vocabulary now and feels she would get more out of it. That’s the level of intensity I’m working with.

One boy was reading a huge book about the Cold War. When I asked him why he chose that monstrosity of a book, he told me his father told him to read it. When we say you are supposed to read a Choice Book, we mean the student is supposed to choose, not the parent.

One boy was reading a book all about butts. We did say it was the student’s choice, right? I guess we got what we asked for.

There was one student who was new to the eighth grade, which is tough because everybody already knows each other. The book he chose? Bar Code Tattoo. It was all I could do to hold back the urge to scream “Yipppeeeee!!!” (a satisfactory, extended “Yessssssssss” with added touchdown dance-like gesticulations sufficed). I told him to let me know what he thinks of it when he’s done.

What other medium can offer such variety for students to love, hate, agree with, challenge, remember, and find their voices? I genuinely think books are awesome and as a result, I am slowly turning something that was previously bemoaned into a status symbol. Just like Tiger Woods did with golf, or Emeril did with cooking. I make reading cool.

The first week of student teaching has come and gone without incident. Now, as I recharge my batteries and get ready for a new week, I will close my eyes and remember this perfect moment of student potential and zeal.

After all, I need something to keep me going after our blessed honeymoon comes to a close.

Slavery Writers

The week before I started my student teaching I saw the movie Freedom Writers with a couple of my roommates. This was only the latest in the long line of Dangerous Minds-like movies which have spawned in the years after it was created. For those of you who have not seen it (or Lean on Me, or To Sir with Love, or the one where they learn to tango, or…) a high needs school is demonstrated (cue hip-hop music) in all of its terrible might. And just as the situation doesn’t look like it can get worse, here enters the passionate educator ready to change lives and minds. Oh sure, they look like they are going to fail towards the middle, but somehow or another they manage to help them pass the test (or ballroom dance). This depiction of how a revolutionary teacher was defined was all I was exposed to prior to this placement. In my mind, the only students that needed help were those who were the most poor, in the worst districts, with the least amount of support. Although this may mainly be true, I believe I have finally found the way in which I can make an impact on my students which would help change their lives and the lives of those less fortunate.

Today, as I was taking a look at the library in the classroom I noticed a book that was right up in front. It was about a girl who lived in a time where everyone got bar code tattoos and how she did not want to get one. From what I read, the main theme of the book was conformity versus identity. “This is awesome!” I remember thinking to myself. But I wondered: Why hasn’t anyone else shown interest in it? I thought about that all day long as I observed how my students spoke, acted and reacted to teachers and each other. What I came to see was eerily disturbing. Everyone with whom I had spoken to had referred to these kids as “good” kids who “work hard” and “do what they are supposed to do”. What I saw, however, was very different. Where others saw good behavior, I saw docility. Where they interpreted cooperation, I saw mindless conformity.

Two instances have driven me to this conclusion.

The first happened yesterday during the morning announcements. The principal went on the loudspeaker and announced that there is construction going on in the building and so there would be workers coming in and out which students would probably see. They were instructed, and I quote: “Do not speak to or look at these workers. They will not speak to or look at you. We encourage you to be civil to all those in our learning community, but do not communicate with these workers”. I looked around in disbelief, awaiting a rush of questions that never came. Why didn’t the students care to find out why they should not talk, or even look at, these people? More pressingly: whether or not there was a legitimate excuse of why students are workers were not to communicate, does this school have any idea of the message they are sending to the kids? Saying that is equivalent to one of them walking down the street with their mother and seeing her hold her purse tight when a Black person walks by; Or a parent telling their child “Don’t look a them” when they see a disabled person. The message, whether explicit or implicit, is that these people are less than you. They do not deserve the same recognition that teachers, principals, doctors, lawyers or nurses do.

The second instance does not concern something which was said, but just the opposite. When all the teachers were doing their introductory spiel the first day of school, not a single one (I asked) felt the need to mention why the material was important to learn. Sure, they might say, “You will need to use these skills and this information for the state tests”, but if you have been keeping up on my writing you already know how I feel about that. Why, exactly, is this information not given? Because it’s not asked for. Why would one of these students ever question a teacher? Why question anything at all? When everything has been provided for you there is not need to ask questions.

Now don’t get me wrong, just because the grand majority of these students’ families are very well off, that does not mean that they have come from easy childhoods. Some have learning disabilities and have had personal issues. Most come from divorced households. Notwithstanding, the fact of the matter is that virtually none of them have ever gone to bed hungry (I say virtually to cover my own rear, but I highly doubt it). Virtually none of them have ever had to worry about being hurt because of the way that they look or what they believe in.

So they don’t question. Ever.

They don’t question what they watch on television. They don’t question what they wear. They don’t question their culture. And they damned sure never questioned their teacher.

That’s where I step in.

In my culture, questioning everything (especially authority) is not only accepted, it’s frequent. How many times have you heard “F--- the police!” from people in the Black and Latino popular culture? My students would never say “F--- the police”. The police live next door.

On September 11, 2001, “official announcements in the south tower of the World Trade Center repeatedly instructed everyone in the building to stay put, which posed an agonizing choice: Follow the official directive or disobey and evacuate” (Kohn 130). Which one do you think most of my students would do?

Teaching these students to think critically and question everything (including – nay, especially authority) is not just a cute goal to put on a lesson plan to make it align with the state standards: it is a matter of life and death. Just think, if I can help one student to question what they have ever been taught and think for themselves, maybe they can realize their dream to be a teacher, an advocate for the homeless or maybe even…a construction worker.

--
Kohn, Alphie. What Does it Mean to be Well Educated?. Boston: Beacon Press, 2004.

The honeymoon, the question and the list

Ah yes, the first day of school. Today could not be more perfect if I had designed it myself. I absolutely love middle schoolers. The girls are bigger than the boys, some boys are tiny with deep voices while others tower over the others but sound like they're doing impressions of their female counterparts. Regardless of how they look, people at this age have absolutely not concept of space and where they reside inside of it, which often has hilarious results. Looking more like a fawn navigating its first uncertain steps as it uses its newly acquired legs than anything else, they clumsily spill their drinks, bump into each other and drop all of their books in an attempt to look like they have it more together than their classmates. There’s nothing I can do but laugh with them and help them pick up the pieces. “I can remember my first days of school,” I often found myself telling them, “and it gets better, I promise”. One of my favorite catchphrases I used today was, “Now you might want to be careful when you get close to me because I am a very sharp dresser and you might cut yourselves”. It was humorous enough to get a laugh out of the class but just corny enough to be a teacher joke. Perfect.

Many of the teachers were happy (and shockingly surprised) that all of the kids were so kind and obedient today – but not me. I know it’s still the honeymoon stage and they will only start to test the limits of a new teacher after a week or so, after they get a chance to push the limit as much as they can to see what will happen. If things haven’t changed in this respect since when I went to middle school (which I doubt they have), then all the students will inevitably talk with their friends about their teachers. They will determine who they think is easy, hard, attractive, a pushover, etc. Moreover, as I’m now learning, it’s the exact same thing that teachers do about students. So works the circle of life.

As we were doing an icebreaker today I asked my students who they thought was the greatest President of the United States (not to be political, but just for the record, none said Bush). Most said George Washington. When I asked why, the most popular response was, “because he was the first one”. I didn’t really understand how being first makes you the best, but I figured I wouldn’t push the issue. My favorite response came from a student that reminded me more of myself than I would like to admit. “And who is your favorite President?” I asked. “Obama,” he responded. It was the hardest I had laughed all day.

There are certain things that I have to discuss with my cooperating teacher in order to understand where she is coming from. In order to have a constructive conversation with her, I figured I would make a (quick) list of how I feel about a couple of those things.

1. Classroom Management – I’m always friendly with the students but I am not their friend. Test me and I will lay the smack down if necessary.
2. Student Motivation – I agree with Kohn. Most students today don’t need more motivation, just a different kind. You shouldn’t have to bribe or punish a student into wanting to learn (read: positive/negative reinforcement). Intrinsic motivation should be the order of the day.
3. Grades – Get rid of ‘em. Assessment should be frequent, individualized and non-competitive.
4. Homework – An important part of learning. It should be as constructive as possible and should never just be busywork.
5. Standardized Tests – They don’t test anything particularly constructive except a student's ability to take a standardized test.

Judging a book by its cover

I have always been taught that one should not judge a book by its cover, yet for better or worse Apple Middle School's content was exactly what the Caucasian, affluent, gossip-filled, resource-rich cover I anticipated it to be. When I entered the building I was greeted with a huge sign that said in multi-colored cut-out letters: “Apple Middle School: Where Everyone Is Welcome.” My mind immediately began firing questions which ranged from the logical to the conspiratorial. Who exactly are they trying to make feel welcome here? People of different races? Sexual Orientations? Faiths? Moreover, why is the sign needed in the first place? Was there a time when these people did not feel welcome? How has that changed, if at all? Going into Apple I already knew that this was going to be my “good” school. Every student teacher is supposed to be assigned to one school that has many resources, involved parents and a supportive administration as well as one where many of those things may not be true. So when I walked into the school, met with my cooperating teacher and started meeting my fellow staff, I was less than surprised as I saw one White face after another. Even the janitor was White (so White, in fact, that he was even sporting crisp Joe Dirt-style mutton chops).

Keeping this in mind, after my preliminary research I knew the demographics for the school and the surrounding area so I was aware of the situation I was getting into. In addition, I made it a point not to judge any of the people which I was meeting just because they were White, in the same way that I did not want to be judged just because I am a young male of color from Brooklyn. I would be no less guilty of prejudice if I assumed anything about any of these people before I got to know them personally. It is worth noting though, that due to the fact that I was the only person of color in the entire building, all my actions, both positive and negative, are reflective of not only me, but the school I go to, the place I am from, my family and my entire race. This may sound a little drastic, but just think of the fact that for many of these individuals who have lived in the suburbs all their life I will be the first Dominican person they have ever met. Perhaps the first young male of color they have ever personally known. And as lovely as people of color are depicted on television (allow me to wipe the sarcasm off the keyboard before I continue) I am motivated by more than money and women. I can speak in full sentences using vocabulary most people have never heard of. I can speak many languages; discuss politics, current events, literature and education. All this and I have rhythm.

Today was a day full of meetings and paperwork; a logistical obligation which must be completed in order to begin the true work. Tomorrow the true test begins. As the first day of school draws ever closer I must remember to stay positive, be observant, and make sure I am judging the content of the characters and not the cover of the book.