dnovember

I realize I have not written on this blog for several months.  For those of you have been checking daily for updates and have continually come up empty, my sincerest apologies.  One of my New Years resolutions is to give this another try.  I still feel as though writing about my experience is valuable both for others to gain a perspective of my experience and for my own personal catharsis and self-reflection.  I intend to prioritize building in time for this.  So here goes.  When I return after break this Monday, we’ll be starting a new unit that I spent way too much of break trying to create: Exploring the Holocaust Through Night, by Elie Wiesel.  As part of this unit, I’ll be taking my kids to the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York and we will hear from a Holocaust survivor.  I am genuinely humbled by the opportunity to open this window of history for my students and fearful of how it will be received.  Because of the personal connection I have with this material, I fear how I will respond to disrespect or lack of engagement.  I wonder how I’ll respond when a student asks, “Why does this even matter?” or laughs when we learn about Anti-Semitism.  I really wonder how I’ll respond when a student asks me, “Mister, you’re Jewish right? How could your people have let this happen?”

The other day I went to Staples and managed to convince the manager to scour the store’s hundreds of boxes of notebooks for 140 black notebooks that will serve as my student’s “journals” for the unit.  It took them the entire day, but they got it done.  This idea excites me, given the rich content my students can draw upon for their writing in this unit.  At units end, I’m going to have my students complete research project on a research question inspired by the reading of Night.  They will be presenting their findings at a Nuremberg “trial,” that puts a nameless and faceless depiction of the perpetrators of the Holocaust “on trial.”  Along the way, my students will view film clips from “Night and Fog,” “Faces of the Enemy,” and “Schindler’s List,” will analyze propaganda, and will write letters to Elie Wiesel.

What scares me most is the fear that I won’t be able to bring the Holocaust alive for my kids; or worse yet, that I will fail to make this personally relevant for them.  The themes of silence, indifference, hatred, injustice, dehumanization- these issues matter.  The hard part is making them believe that.  But even with that fear, I’m thrilled to have this chance.  Most of my kids don’t know what the Holocaust is.  By the end of this unit, they will have read one of the most powerful and meaningful books ever written and will have completed their own research project on the Holocaust…the rejuvenation stage that Teach for America promised has arrived- for now!

I just finished my first week of teaching, so here are some notable parts of my week:

1. My school decided it was a good idea to hold two four-hour homeroom periods on the first and second days of school.  Not the greatest idea ever conceived, though it really wasn’t so bad and provided a lot of great opportunities.  The days were supposed to be for team-building and getting students acclimated to the school year.  This gave me a great chance to build relationships, but was also somewhat torturous for the kids, since they had to be in the same room for four hours on back-to-back days.  Hopefully I didn’t torture them too much.

2. On Wednesday, I showed my class the Obama speech directed at students.  My school never came out with a formal policy on this, so I went ahead and showed it.  In my limited experience teaching, I have never seen a group so engaged and inspired, so thank you Barack Obama.  Immediately following the speech, I had my kids fill out personal goal sheets, which they asked that I keep in their portfolios (homeroom teachers have to review portfolios with students and reflect on their work).  I told the class that when things get hard to look back at this speech and this moment.  Looking over the goal sheets they wrote and their answers to the worksheet questions I gave them, the speech had at least an initial impact.  One student said, “I think this speech will really give me a boost.”  I’d like to take this moment to bash anyone who thought this speech was a bad idea.  I have no idea what you could have been thinking before and I certainly don’t now.
3. On the same day that I showed the Obama speech, I discussed the attributes of a good goal and why goal-setting is so important.  I used the word “ambitious” as one of the attributes before quickly realizing that no one knew what I was talking about.  I asked my kids if anyone knew what “ambitious” meant.  Silence.  Not one 10th grader knew the word.  I taught them the word and used it in several sentences, all while silently noting the sad irony of the situation.  Not knowing the word ambitious made me wonder whether they’ve seen the word in action in any part of their own lives.  Do they know someone close to them who is ambitious? Do they have ambition themselves?  I told them that to succeed in my class, not only would they need to know the word, but they’d need to become what that word represents.

4. On September 11th, we had a 1 hour homeroom, so I wanted to at least acknowledge the day and engage my kids in a brief discussion.  I gave them some eye-opening statistics from an article a co-worker copied for me and then asked them about their own experience that day/what they remember.  Most of them were around 7 on that day and some had vivid memories about it.  They wanted to know where I was that day.  It’s incredible to me that on September 11, 2001, I was sitting in the seats of my students and that now, I was the teacher.  This made me feel old and strangely emotional as well.

5. On Thursday and Friday, I finally met my actual classes, albeit for 43 minutes (it’s usually 90).  I gave my students a getting-to-know-you survey and went over my rules, expectations, and syllabus.  We also did a quick post-it note exercise where students had to think of a class where they learned and a class where they didn’t learn and had to note a characteristic of each class.  Students then got up and stuck their post-its on a piece of chart paper on the board.  Here are some of their responses on the post-it for the class where they didn’t learn, which are heartbreaking and humorous all at once:

-”It just never go well and I didn’t learn much and that probly why I have to take it again”

-”The teacher didn’t know what he was talking about. He wasn’t teaching Spanish.”

-”Science. I can’t learn nothing for nothing.”

-”She was boring, had the same tone of voice, she didn’t seem like she liked us or wanted 2 be there.”

-”Teacher was too moody and impatient and I think that got in the way of our communication.”

“The teacher was their for the money and didn’t care if we passed or not.”

“Teacher didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t teach”
Hopefully I can avoid those.

6. I gave a short powerpoint about myself on the first day (to my homeroom).  Showed them a picture of me at the Phillies World Series parade (which they thought was hilarious…I’m pretty sure one student accused me of being drunk in the picture, but I pretended not to hear that one).  Then I told them what I was all about and the things that I value.  Went into a brief discussion of my last name.  I told them that I didn’t mind them ragging on my name, provided they do two things: 1) do it at the appropriate time (not in class) and 2) make it original.  They seemed to get the message and I haven’t had one issue yet.  They asked me how old I was.  I told them I was somewhere between 20-45.  They were not happy with that answer, so I told them I’d reveal my age at some point during the year, but that they’d have to be at school every day in case that was the day I revealed it.  They asked me if I was married or had a girlfriend.  I said I wasn’t married and refused to answer the girlfriend question.  Not a good precedent to talk about that stuff, I don’t think.

Hopefully I can find time to keep posting, obviously things are starting to get really busy.

Last week was new teacher orientation at Mariana Bracetti Academy, my placement school.  We learned some of the school’s policies and procedures and spent two days learning the principles of cooperative learning from a consultant from Kagan.  The school has fully bought into the idea of cooperative learning, which is differentiated from “group work” in the structure and emphasis on accountability from each team member.  All of the new teachers were great to work with and my experience at the school so far has been amazing.  Every member of the staff is incredibly friendly, from the principal to the janitorial staff.  On Friday, I started to set up my classroom, which was easily the most exciting part of the week.  My room is small, cozy, and now adorned with posters which range from a list of classroom expectations to a poster of President Obama with the following quote written next to it on chart paper: “No one has written your destiny for you.  Your destiny is in your hands- and don’t you forget that.”  Other posters say “Excuse Limit: 0,” and “This is a no bully zone.”  I couldn’t help myself and also included a Phillies rally towel and 3 bobble head dolls.  Speaking of Obama, he is set to deliver a speech on whitehouse.gov on September 8th, the first day of school for many students nationwide: “On Sept. 8, when young people across the country will have just started or are about to go back to school, I’m going to be making a big speech to young people all across the country about the importance of education, the importance of staying in school, how we want to improve our education system, and why it’s so important for the country. And so I hope everybody tunes in.”

I am thrilled about this speech and wonder how this idea never occured to a prior President.  Though I’m sure I had nothing to do with this speech, I  wrote a letter to the White House two weeks ago asking the President to do just this in a tape recording to my class.  Even better that he’s doing it for the entire country to hear.  Next week, I have curriculum meetings and more policy meetings- kids come the 8th.  Unbelievable.  Can’t wait.

I know it’s been a long hiatus since my last post, so for those of you who have been dying to read on, I have a few updates.  Last week I had my “bridge class” at Upenn, which basically gave some foundational teaching knowledge from the Penn program.  The entire week was basically one long, exhausting, and emotionally taxing discussion on racial issues, full of high-brow and abstract concepts that are difficult to put into context until you experience them for yourself.  In a lot of ways, though, the week was helpful.  One of my group leaders was especially candid about the challenge we are about to undertake, which I really appreciated given how close we are to that reality.  She told us that on October 1st (or November in some cases) everything would go to hell, we would seriously consider quitting, and there would be days when we simply could not justify going into school.  I don’t doubt this for a second and know this is true.  Mainly because I’ve heard it over and over again.  When I think of these so-called “dark months” I wonder how I will respond.  I simply have no idea, even though I do know how I hope to.  This week, I am attending what TFA calls “Round Zero.”  This is when we prepare tangible tools for the beginning of the school year (our big goals for the year, management plans, unit plans, etc.).  This is all well and good except for the fact that it is impossible to really develop these tools effectively without the context of our school and our kids.  Spoke tonight with my curriculum director at my school, who seems incredibly dedicated and is someone who I will lean on extensively.  He said I may be teaching six blocks (three each day) which could conceivably come out to 160-180 students.  This is so large and daunting an idea to me that I have chosen to ignore it for at least a day.  I’m still in the process of compiling a classroom library, so if anyone has any resources or would be able to contribute ANYTHING, please reach out to me.  I love the fact that I can involve people I care about in what I’m doing and this is one way to do that.  Besides that, the list of items to take care of before the first day of school is beyond monstrous, but I’m enjoying the challenge so far.  Living in the Fairmout area has been great so far, as has running up the Art Museum steps every day and pretending to be Rocky.  Pretty sure the Rocky Theme Song is going to be my inspiration this year.  I’m going to need it.

I’m sitting in the corps member workroom on the last day of Institute.  I can’t even believe it’s finally over.  Yesterday was my final day with the kids and today is pretty much about cleaning up the classroom and tying up loose ends.  It’s pretty much impossible to really start reflecting this early, which is inconvenient since the entire day is devoted to just that.  What I’ll say is that I’ve never worked harder, learned more, or experienced more in 5 weeks than I did here.  After I have more than five minutes to think outside of the TFA context, I’ll probably post more of a reflection than that.

I do want to write a bit about my SMT (Summer Mentor Teacher), the short, shrill-voiced woman who observed the good, the bad, and the ugly of my teaching every single day this summer.  This woman is incredible.  She is 5 feet tall with the presence of a giant.  She’s been teaching for over 30 years and knows more about teaching English than I likely ever will.  Every day after my lesson, she’d pull me outside and say, without fail, “So how did you think you did?”  My answers ranged from “horrifying” to “That was disastrous” to “I thought it actually went really well today.”  Her responses ranged from, “Today went great, you had an awesome plan” to “what were you thinking with that?” and almost always included the words “Had I been teaching this, I’d have…”  My SMT was tough as nails, didn’t take anything from any student, and was a force to be reckoned with from Day 1: “She’s cooked, she’s done, that’s it! That’s the kind of kid that really pisses me off! and “____was being a real bitch today! are a small sample of her best quotes.  I appreciated her bluntness and her criticism was always spot on.  You’d be crazy not to do exactly what this woman tells you.  When my SMT started yawning loudly or read a book midlesson (as she was prone to do) I knew I was in trouble (she was also unable to hold back with her facial expressions midlesson, sometimes displaying faces of appreciation and approval, but also of disappointment or outright disgust).  What I loved most about her this summer was the way she laced every criticism with a positive and always left me feeling that I could do better tomorrow.

She was unafraid to tell TFA everything it was doing wrong, opine that the charter school movement was a disaster (I’ll be at a charter this year), and question the validity of Teach For America itself.  But she was also there to congratulate me for my greatest successes and build me up after a failed lesson.  More than anything, she has been working her whole life toward the same goal as all of us and it is obvious how much she cares for her students.

The other day (I think it was actually last week) these words from President Obama were read to us and I found them to be inspirational.   Finally found the speech online:
“During my visit to Dodge Elementary, I was able to speak with a few of the teachers about some of the challenges they’re facing in educating their students. And one teacher mentioned to me that in one of the biggest obstacles in her view is what she referred to as the “These Kids” syndrome.

She said that when it comes to educating students today, people always seem to find a million excuses for why “these kids” can’t learn. That you’ll hear how “these kids are nothing but trouble,” or “these kids come from tough backgrounds,” or “these kids don’t want to learn.” And the more people talk about them as “these kids,” the easier it is for “these kids” to become somebody else’s problem.

But of course, the children in this country - the children in Dodge Elementary, and South Central L.A., and rural Arkansas, and suburban Maryland - they are not “these kids.” They are our kids. They want a chance to achieve - and each of us has a responsibility to give them that chance.

In the end, children succeed because somewhere along the way, a parent or teacher instills in them the belief that they can. That they’re able to. That they’re worth it.

At Earhart Elementary in Chicago, one little girl, raised by a single mom from a poor background, was asked the secret to her academic success.

She said, “I just study hard every night because I like learning. My teacher wants me to be a good student, and so does my mother. I don’t want to let them down.”

In the months and years to come, it’s time for this nation to rededicate itself to the ideal of a world class education for every American child. It’s time to let our kids hope for something else. It’s time to instill the belief in every child that they can succeed - and then make sure we make good on the promise to never let them down.”

Spent a good portion of today’s sessions sitting on top of a table next to the rejuvenation station as a last ditch effort to stay conscious.  This is completely normal and even encouraged.  Could not stay awake and didn’t really want to today.  Had a session on grading that was utterly worthless- key takeaway was that some things aren’t worth grading, which is something I’m sure I never would have figured out on my own.  Best (and only worthwhile) part was the last 30 seconds where I was told of a good online grading site.  The literacy session today was equally unproductive.  I remember writing a poem about where I grew up for an inordinate amount of time, but have no recollection of how that had anything to do with the actual topic of the session.
Now positives for today.  First review packet went well, the kids were on task and getting it done.  Did have to talk to two kids in the hallway about their cell phone use, but for the most part they took the review seriously.  Also the kids loved guessing facts about us (me and the teacher who teaches after me).  They were asking lots of questions about our colleges and our siblings or lack thereof.  We’re doing it again tomorrow in a T/F format where they can take a break from review to guess whether statements about us are True or False. (Example: Mr. November’s hair was blonde and straight when he was six years old.  True).

One last highlight.  I’ve been practically begging for my kids to take books from my grab bag when they win the raffle for the day (as opposed to jolly ranchers).  Today we picked four tickets, so four students chose items.  First three chose jolly ranchers.  It’s possible that I rigged it so that my favorite student who has never gotten his raffle ticket selected would get a chance.  Okay, I definitely just looked in the bag and pulled out his name and got away with it.  This student took the book Night by Elie Wiesel, something I’ve been marketing since we read a couple of passages from it.  Very thrilling moment, especially since I think this student will read the book.  Same kid who was a past member of the Bloods. Same student who has started shaking my hand after every class. And same kid who told me he is going to take his new SAT books to camp this summer.  Very cool.

Couple funny things I’ve never wrote about but want to share.  Our bus driver is a character, routinely running red lights, blasting rap at 7:00 AM, and helping us feel slightly better about boarding a yellow school bus as a 22-year old.  Man who works the front desk and checks our ID cards when we come in after school everyday might be the coolest man in the security field.  Greets you everyday with a “THANK YOU SIR” for guys and “THANK YOU MAM” for girls every time you walk in with a peppiness that is actually shocking given how mundane the job seems.  This man loves his job and it shows.

Tomorrow our last rough drafts are due for Thursday and Friday lessons.  I’m not sure why we have class after the final exam.  To protest, I printed out a lesson I liked from ReadWriteThink.org and didn’t put it into a 5-step lesson plan.  Saw no point.  I see no need to justify that action, but certainly will if I have to.  Spent the time writing personal notes to kids.  And sleeping so I can actually get something out of sessions.  What a thought.

Review time is in full swing for my kids.  Tomorrow I am giving them a behemoth review packet to work through, which will either serve them well in reviewing past material or cause a full-scale classroom rebellion.  To make it more bearable, we will be giving the kids “brain breaks,” where we will pull a fact from a hat and ask the kids to guess which teacher that fact pertains to.  Kids love to know about their teachers lives, especially since we are so young.  Tuesday is going to be the same thing, which is why I’m concerned about a rebellion.  At the end of Tuesday, I’m giving each student a personal note telling them that I believe in their ability to do well on Wednesday’s exam and reminding them to give it their best shot.  I’m doing this mainly because if I’ve learned nothing else this summer, it’s that a) you can’t take effort for granted EVER and b) when students want to work and succeed for YOU, it makes all the difference.  I actually can’t believe how much I have come to care for these kids in four weeks.  Walking around the dorm tonight, there was a pronounced feeling of, dare I say, happiness?  Usually it’s more a feeling of zombies stumbling around with pained faces, making copies and putting together lesson plans like robots.  I think the tone has shifted because it’s the last week and we have come to care in a different way about what we’re doing.  As many have already put it, it’s no longer “those students” or “the students.”  It’s my students.  And it’s our students.