Thursday, November 30, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
REALLY waving the white flag
As a first year teacher, I have no idea how my school compares with other schools. Because I went to, what Kirsten likes to call, "a weird God school," I tgought all public schools are like Mcintosh's. Well, I have been informed that it is not. Today I found out that my mentor teacher, an 8 year veteran from Bradwell Institute, is turning in her resignation tomorrow. She is the fifth teacher leaving because they claim the school is an "impossible teaching environment." Really, I understand. These kids are the most unmotivated, unfocused kids I could have ever dreamed up. After spending three days last week talkng about figuartive language, the kids told me today, "We don't know what that is." It is maddening, but I can deal with that. The problem is the administration. I have written one kid up five, yes 5, times, and he has not served one day in ISS. But, one of my best students says a curse word in class and spends three days in ISS. I see why they are leaving. That is madness.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Waving the White Flag
I used to be happy to see Thanksgiving coming because of stuffing, oh, and family, but now, all I can see is a three day break from school. Because we finished our unit on word building a few days before the beginning of an extended break, I did not want to start the novel because I knew they would forget whatever we did before the time off. Instead, I returned to poetry after one of my "advanced" students told me he did not know what figuative language was. I am embarrassed to say that I told him, in frustration, that, if that is true, "you do not need to be in an advanced class." I did not use all sonnets, but instead I gave the kids fun ballads to analyze. I asked them to find sensory words, sound devices, figuartive language and identify theme and then give me evidence from the poem to support their conclusion.
The last two quesions on the organizer was to identify theme and support their conclusion. After my ENTIRE second period class turned in the organizer without answering the last two questions, I decided to go over the steps that will help you identify theme (something we have done in the past). Still, after doing that, every class turned in their organizers with the last two questions blank. Are they lazy or just incompetent? They want the answers in black and white and preferably given to them. One of the science teachers told me that she had kids who were lost if they had to turn the page to find an answer. It is very frustrating to pour your heart and soul into lesson plans and have kids who just do not care.
I have been going over propaganda techniques with my 11th graders, who, by the way, I have grown to really like, and I had them write a news article using propaganda. The results were hilarious. They were nowhere close to using propaganda, but the reponses brought me lots and lots of giggles. Here is an example of one:
"Charmin always be complaining about other toilet papers saying how they better than everybody else. The commercials always be having Charmin going up against some other brand and saying which one absorbs more water. Most of the time it be Charmin."
Never mind that it had no use of propaganda - or the fact that it was not a news article - the last line is priceless.
Rickey did create a news article, but it had no propaganda, just hilarity:
"There was a crash at the Brunswick airport this afternoon and two hundred passengers died in a fiery crash. It was not a national disaster though because all of the passengers were from McIntosh County. The rescue squad thought it was better to let the passengers die than to risk the lives of any of the decent citizens of Glynn county trying to save those passengers."
Ms. Milsapps, the Spanish teacher, tried to make me feel better after today - a day that consisted of two fights in my class. she said tht she had the kids write, in Spanish, about their favorite teacher. She said, "A lot of kids wrote about you." That was really nice to hear after such a tough day.
In other news, I am completely in love with the social studies teacher across the hall. He is somewhat chubby, but he plays the guitar and throws desk around when kids misbehave, and comes in the door to rescue me when I have problems. More on this later.
The last two quesions on the organizer was to identify theme and support their conclusion. After my ENTIRE second period class turned in the organizer without answering the last two questions, I decided to go over the steps that will help you identify theme (something we have done in the past). Still, after doing that, every class turned in their organizers with the last two questions blank. Are they lazy or just incompetent? They want the answers in black and white and preferably given to them. One of the science teachers told me that she had kids who were lost if they had to turn the page to find an answer. It is very frustrating to pour your heart and soul into lesson plans and have kids who just do not care.
I have been going over propaganda techniques with my 11th graders, who, by the way, I have grown to really like, and I had them write a news article using propaganda. The results were hilarious. They were nowhere close to using propaganda, but the reponses brought me lots and lots of giggles. Here is an example of one:
"Charmin always be complaining about other toilet papers saying how they better than everybody else. The commercials always be having Charmin going up against some other brand and saying which one absorbs more water. Most of the time it be Charmin."
Never mind that it had no use of propaganda - or the fact that it was not a news article - the last line is priceless.
Rickey did create a news article, but it had no propaganda, just hilarity:
"There was a crash at the Brunswick airport this afternoon and two hundred passengers died in a fiery crash. It was not a national disaster though because all of the passengers were from McIntosh County. The rescue squad thought it was better to let the passengers die than to risk the lives of any of the decent citizens of Glynn county trying to save those passengers."
Ms. Milsapps, the Spanish teacher, tried to make me feel better after today - a day that consisted of two fights in my class. she said tht she had the kids write, in Spanish, about their favorite teacher. She said, "A lot of kids wrote about you." That was really nice to hear after such a tough day.
In other news, I am completely in love with the social studies teacher across the hall. He is somewhat chubby, but he plays the guitar and throws desk around when kids misbehave, and comes in the door to rescue me when I have problems. More on this later.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
The Fair
After a nice day out of school yesterday, I took the kids to the fair last night. I am always amazed to find that when I walk into the fairgrounds, I feel 12 again. I told the kids how much I use to love to walk through the entrance of the fair and look at the little exhibits they have set up at the entance. Things have changed a lot since I was little. Brunswick is growing at an astounding rate and you can tell by the number of booths when you walk in the fair (probably not a scientific indicator of growth, but a nice comparison for me). When I was little, the Kiwannas had a booth and the bank always gave out pencils; there was always the "Smokey the Bear" booth and a booth for the tractor dealer. Now, there were booths that sold vacuum cleaners and at least five bank booths - I got a pencil from them all - and another booth that sold puppies. The kids were excited to go through the fair opening, just like me when I was a kid.
As soon as we got into the actual fair, there was very little change. The smell from the animals was overwhelming, but familiar. I use to spend quite a bit of time in the animal exhibits because there was a lways a pony there. It is amazing that a field of grass can turn into such a delightful place. I saw people there last night that I use to go to the fair with. Girls that I would walk around with and follow the boys that looked like they would go and smoke cigarettes behind the rides. I remember my mom saying "There are some bad people at the fair," and thinking how crazy she was. Last night, while me and some of my friends sat on benches waiting for our kids to ride the rides, one of them said, "My God! There are some trashy people at the fair!"
I could not believe how old I felt. I am so depressed today because of that stupid fair. I realize how quickly time passes. How soon my kids will be out on their own and I will be alone. This post makes little sense, but I wanted to get it out.
Things are ok, but not great. I am still diving.
As soon as we got into the actual fair, there was very little change. The smell from the animals was overwhelming, but familiar. I use to spend quite a bit of time in the animal exhibits because there was a lways a pony there. It is amazing that a field of grass can turn into such a delightful place. I saw people there last night that I use to go to the fair with. Girls that I would walk around with and follow the boys that looked like they would go and smoke cigarettes behind the rides. I remember my mom saying "There are some bad people at the fair," and thinking how crazy she was. Last night, while me and some of my friends sat on benches waiting for our kids to ride the rides, one of them said, "My God! There are some trashy people at the fair!"
I could not believe how old I felt. I am so depressed today because of that stupid fair. I realize how quickly time passes. How soon my kids will be out on their own and I will be alone. This post makes little sense, but I wanted to get it out.
Things are ok, but not great. I am still diving.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Stand Up and Cheer!
Trey recently won a spelling competition at school so he is going on to face the other kids in Glynn County for a county wide spelling bee. He was so proud and we have already been working on his list of words. I suggested we watch Akeelah and the Bee. I heard it was good and I thought it may inspire Trey. However, I was the one who was inspired. I loved this story and the ideas behind it. Akeelah's coach made her read a quote and tell him what it meant to her. I liked the quote so much that I wanted to share it with you. I am going to find a way to post it on my wall at school. I recommend you put this one on your Netflix list.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous.
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other
people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us -- it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others
-Marianne Williamson
Some of the Reason's School Sucks
After a relatively calm week, school ended on a sour note Friday. Next week is Homecoming and we are preparing for a big week. Here is a sampling of the fun scheduled for Mcintosh County Academy:
Monday: Pajama Day (There is no way I am wearing pajamas to school. I may don slippers, but that is it)
Tuesday: Halloween: I am going to be Bob Marley, or Barbara Marley
Wednesday: Dress to impress (I guess you dress up)
Thursday: I can't remember
Friday: Spirit Day
Well, our apathetic kids were rarin' to go and decorate so the school was in chaos. My day began with the assistant principal handing me a stack full of write-up's from the previous day. I had been out at training and my sub tried to take over my class. Well, my kids revolted and told her that she "was not their teacher," and "Ms. Taylor told them what to do so they did not need her help."
This sub is notoriously pushy. The assistant principal handed me the write-up's and said "take care of them."
I had just finished "The Monkey's Paw" and so I had the kids rewrite the ending of the story and describe how the son who comes back from the dead looked. They loved it! and approached it enthusiastically, so I let two boys who had done an exceptional job, go to the gym when there was ten minutes left in class. A few minutes after the boys left, the asst. principal came into my room and said, from the door, "Ms. Taylor, do not let your kids out of the room again." She turned and left and I felt scolded and embarrassed in front of my kids.
At lunch, the other English teacher came into my room furious. he said that Ms. Hunter, the asst. principal had come into the media center and asked him what he was doing in the library? She then told him too many kids were in the lab and he had to leave. Once again, she did this in front of his kids and embarrassed him.
Later in the day, with my prisoners-in-training seventh period class, we were working in collaborative pairs, which they want us to do, rewriting the ending of the story. These kids are always loud, but Friday they were loud but doing the work, when Ms. Hunter walks in and tells me, "Ms. Taylor, this class is too loud. Be quiet!" Once again, I was furious, but just said "OK."
Shortly after this, she comes back in and says, "All the other classes are quiet, but this class and I don't like it!" I apologized and told my kids to be quiet, but inside I was ready to cry. each time she came in, I was mediating the class and helping them do their work, but I feel it is totally inappropriate of them to reprimand the teachers in front of their students. I believe they have lost control of the school and may be trying to regain it, but at the expense of alienating the teachers. Many of the other teachers who have taught elsewhere say they have never seen a school so poorly run. Three veteran teachers have already left and more are threatening to go. I guess I do not know enough to know how bad it is there.
I do know, however, that I have written up one boy four times, me and others, and he has not spent one day in ISS. I am very discouraged today, but I am going to start the History of the English Language on Tuesday and I am going to have them try and read a little Chaucer aloud. Should be fun. I may have to bring Kirsten in as a guest reader, or maybe I could ring her up on Google chat and have her give an over the phone reading.
I am sad and lonely for all of you and can't wait for Thanksgiving break so I can come see you!
Monday: Pajama Day (There is no way I am wearing pajamas to school. I may don slippers, but that is it)
Tuesday: Halloween: I am going to be Bob Marley, or Barbara Marley
Wednesday: Dress to impress (I guess you dress up)
Thursday: I can't remember
Friday: Spirit Day
Well, our apathetic kids were rarin' to go and decorate so the school was in chaos. My day began with the assistant principal handing me a stack full of write-up's from the previous day. I had been out at training and my sub tried to take over my class. Well, my kids revolted and told her that she "was not their teacher," and "Ms. Taylor told them what to do so they did not need her help."
This sub is notoriously pushy. The assistant principal handed me the write-up's and said "take care of them."
I had just finished "The Monkey's Paw" and so I had the kids rewrite the ending of the story and describe how the son who comes back from the dead looked. They loved it! and approached it enthusiastically, so I let two boys who had done an exceptional job, go to the gym when there was ten minutes left in class. A few minutes after the boys left, the asst. principal came into my room and said, from the door, "Ms. Taylor, do not let your kids out of the room again." She turned and left and I felt scolded and embarrassed in front of my kids.
At lunch, the other English teacher came into my room furious. he said that Ms. Hunter, the asst. principal had come into the media center and asked him what he was doing in the library? She then told him too many kids were in the lab and he had to leave. Once again, she did this in front of his kids and embarrassed him.
Later in the day, with my prisoners-in-training seventh period class, we were working in collaborative pairs, which they want us to do, rewriting the ending of the story. These kids are always loud, but Friday they were loud but doing the work, when Ms. Hunter walks in and tells me, "Ms. Taylor, this class is too loud. Be quiet!" Once again, I was furious, but just said "OK."
Shortly after this, she comes back in and says, "All the other classes are quiet, but this class and I don't like it!" I apologized and told my kids to be quiet, but inside I was ready to cry. each time she came in, I was mediating the class and helping them do their work, but I feel it is totally inappropriate of them to reprimand the teachers in front of their students. I believe they have lost control of the school and may be trying to regain it, but at the expense of alienating the teachers. Many of the other teachers who have taught elsewhere say they have never seen a school so poorly run. Three veteran teachers have already left and more are threatening to go. I guess I do not know enough to know how bad it is there.
I do know, however, that I have written up one boy four times, me and others, and he has not spent one day in ISS. I am very discouraged today, but I am going to start the History of the English Language on Tuesday and I am going to have them try and read a little Chaucer aloud. Should be fun. I may have to bring Kirsten in as a guest reader, or maybe I could ring her up on Google chat and have her give an over the phone reading.
I am sad and lonely for all of you and can't wait for Thanksgiving break so I can come see you!
Monday, October 23, 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Getting There
I have to say that I am beginning to enjoy teaching. I have tried to let the class be a little more organic and let the conversation flow naturally. This has worked out pretty well for me. It all strarted with Jack London's story "To Build a Fire." The story is about a man who makes a trip in Alaska when it is 75 below zero. He travels down the Yukon trail alone, well, he has a dog with him, and meets a terrible fate. The story is told from the 3rd person omniscient point of view and we know what is going on in the mind of the man and the dog. It is clear that London does not think much of the man because he writes, "The man lacked imagination. He knew about the things of life, but not their signifigance." In my teachers edition it asked the question, "Why might the man's lack of imagination be a flaw?" My kids said, "yeah, why is that a flaw?" Well, I had to think about it, and I came to the conclusion that a lack of imagination about what was to come in life, and what was significant in life could be disasterous. I told my kids story after story about people who had failed because they could not imagine the horror of their choices. How people lioved miserable lives because they did not realize what was really significant in life. I tried to convince them that although this story was written in 1908, it still spoke to us today. That is the neauty of lieterature - that no matter how many years we have been on this earth, we are still the basically the same. As I taught them this lesson, I remembered that in the middle of all the headaches of teaching, I can make an impact somewhere by teaching my beloved literature. And I do love it - maybe now more than ever. I read Flannery O'Connor and her story "Revelation" and realize how important it is to expose these kids to a world outside of Darien, Ga. I have grown to absolutely love some of them, and want to help those that have not grown to love yet.
I went to the football game Friday and met the mom of one of my very quiet kids. She said, "Jonathon talks about your class all the time. He said he just loves you and the stuff you teach."
I was shocked. He never says anything in class, and I often wonder what he is thinking about while he sits in the back so quietly. Now I know, and it feels wonderful.
Maybe I can make it back next year.
I went to the football game Friday and met the mom of one of my very quiet kids. She said, "Jonathon talks about your class all the time. He said he just loves you and the stuff you teach."
I was shocked. He never says anything in class, and I often wonder what he is thinking about while he sits in the back so quietly. Now I know, and it feels wonderful.
Maybe I can make it back next year.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Entitlement
After reading Kirsten's post about entitlement, I thought I would address it on my blog. I have so much to say about the subject - in fact, I talk about it everyday with my fellow discouraged teachers. The kids I teach are so low performing, that, I believe, teachers in the past have found it easier just to tell them answers rather than try and teach them how to do an assignment on their own. After reading "Everyday use" by Alice Walker, I told my students that we were going to create a character quilt. This quilt would involve reading half of the story and then drawing either symbols of the mom, Maggie and Dee or a picture of how we feel they are described in the story. They were excited because it involved color crayons and glitter, but when I asked them to think outside of the box and imagine these characters as symbols, they acted like I was crazy. I explained the directions several times, over and over they asked me to tell them what to do, and over and over I refused. "Use your imagination," I said. Apparently they have none - not one ounce of it - except for my one special ed kid Leroy. Leroy drew the mother as a brick wall and had nails laying at the bottom of the wall because he said she was "hard as nails." "Perfect," I screamed, "Leroy gets it!" All the while I tool in poster after poster of stick figures who had silly smiles on their faces. "Where do you get this idea from?" I asked, "The family is not happy." Oh well - at least Leroy gets it.
I often have kids who want clarification and then when I give it to them, they shrug their shoulders and turn away. It is not their fault. They have not been asked to do anything hard. I work constantly to find something to give them hope that they can do the work, but they have no intrinsic motivation. That is something I cannot teach, but i share my thoughts and enthusiasm with them, and I tell them how much it matters to me that they succeed, but lately, I find myself not giving a rat's ass if they learn anything. At the first sign of a sniffle, I call in sick. Me, the girl who missed one class in five years of school. To say I hate what I do right now is an understatement. I hate myself for giving up and for expecting myself to be a seasoned veteran after 12 - is it only 12? - weeks of teaching.
Today, during my planning period, the other 11Th grade teacher burst into my room and said, "Please, go to my class! I can't stand them anymore!" Of course I went in to find a class of angry students shouting, "She doesn't teach us anything! Who are you? We want you to teach us!"
"No," I said, "Really you don't. Ms. Abby is a great teacher."
They gave me the assignment and as I looked it over, I said, "Even if you don't know how to do it, you should show Ms. Abby some empathy and respect and be kind to her."
Dull eyes.
Then, Ms. Abby burst into the room and yelled, "Ms. Taylor, do not be nice to them! They are horrible, mean, vicious children!"
Stunned at her loss of control, I took her outside and tried to calm her down. She had taken the criticism personally. I fear being that person that makes a spectacle of herself to get the attention of my class. I believe that class is lost to her now. They will continue to pull her chain now that they know she views them as "horrible and vicious."
Oh well! Another week in McIntrash.
I often have kids who want clarification and then when I give it to them, they shrug their shoulders and turn away. It is not their fault. They have not been asked to do anything hard. I work constantly to find something to give them hope that they can do the work, but they have no intrinsic motivation. That is something I cannot teach, but i share my thoughts and enthusiasm with them, and I tell them how much it matters to me that they succeed, but lately, I find myself not giving a rat's ass if they learn anything. At the first sign of a sniffle, I call in sick. Me, the girl who missed one class in five years of school. To say I hate what I do right now is an understatement. I hate myself for giving up and for expecting myself to be a seasoned veteran after 12 - is it only 12? - weeks of teaching.
Today, during my planning period, the other 11Th grade teacher burst into my room and said, "Please, go to my class! I can't stand them anymore!" Of course I went in to find a class of angry students shouting, "She doesn't teach us anything! Who are you? We want you to teach us!"
"No," I said, "Really you don't. Ms. Abby is a great teacher."
They gave me the assignment and as I looked it over, I said, "Even if you don't know how to do it, you should show Ms. Abby some empathy and respect and be kind to her."
Dull eyes.
Then, Ms. Abby burst into the room and yelled, "Ms. Taylor, do not be nice to them! They are horrible, mean, vicious children!"
Stunned at her loss of control, I took her outside and tried to calm her down. She had taken the criticism personally. I fear being that person that makes a spectacle of herself to get the attention of my class. I believe that class is lost to her now. They will continue to pull her chain now that they know she views them as "horrible and vicious."
Oh well! Another week in McIntrash.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Whew! Another Week Over
I am so glad it is Friday! I am in a groove now, and although I am still working hard, it is not as hard as it was the first few weeks. I began a series of grammar lessons when I tried to do a mad lib and my eleventh graders asked me what an "ad-g-tive" was, only to be followed by what is a "preposition?" They hated it but I think they needed to be reminded of the little things.
I also read "Barn Burning" by William Faulkner. It was surprising, but a few of my less advanced students really liked it, while my "advanced" students thought it was lame. I am beginning to break down some walls and have the kids trust me. I have a few that I just simply do not like, and I don't know what to do about it. One boy just is plain old dirty, and he always wants to touch you. When his hands are on my back, I can feel the heat from them even after he removes them. He wore flip-flops one day and his toes were covered in dirt. Gross!
And then there are the kids who break my heart. I find myself mothering them, and they just melt under any type of compassion. Some days I have to walk up to them as they drop their heads on the desk and say, "you can do this. Just give me a little effort." I do not push and by the end of class, they sheepishly hand me the assignment I gave them. They may never be scholars, but I hope that I can, for just a moment, make them feel loved and cared for. They need it so much. Today, a girl in my class was called to the office. She came back a few minutes later sobbing and put her head on the desk. I took her outside to see what was wrong, and she told me that DFACS came by to question her because someone reported that she was having sex with her father. I did not know what to say. I gave her a hug and asked her if she wanted to go to the office. She walked back in class and just sat her head back down. What can I do for her?
I did a timed essay that asked what can our education system do to keep kids from dropping out of school. Here is one kids answer:
"Teachers should let kids go to the bathroom whenever they want because the reason kids drop out of school is because teachers will not let kids go pee when they want to." Nice.
I also read "Barn Burning" by William Faulkner. It was surprising, but a few of my less advanced students really liked it, while my "advanced" students thought it was lame. I am beginning to break down some walls and have the kids trust me. I have a few that I just simply do not like, and I don't know what to do about it. One boy just is plain old dirty, and he always wants to touch you. When his hands are on my back, I can feel the heat from them even after he removes them. He wore flip-flops one day and his toes were covered in dirt. Gross!
And then there are the kids who break my heart. I find myself mothering them, and they just melt under any type of compassion. Some days I have to walk up to them as they drop their heads on the desk and say, "you can do this. Just give me a little effort." I do not push and by the end of class, they sheepishly hand me the assignment I gave them. They may never be scholars, but I hope that I can, for just a moment, make them feel loved and cared for. They need it so much. Today, a girl in my class was called to the office. She came back a few minutes later sobbing and put her head on the desk. I took her outside to see what was wrong, and she told me that DFACS came by to question her because someone reported that she was having sex with her father. I did not know what to say. I gave her a hug and asked her if she wanted to go to the office. She walked back in class and just sat her head back down. What can I do for her?
I did a timed essay that asked what can our education system do to keep kids from dropping out of school. Here is one kids answer:
"Teachers should let kids go to the bathroom whenever they want because the reason kids drop out of school is because teachers will not let kids go pee when they want to." Nice.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
It's Nice of You to Notice
To those of you so kind as to make me feel missed, I promise I will post on Friday. I could do it everyday, but time does not permit. Trey is playing football and so I come from school and pick him up and go to sit on a hard bench for two hours. I need it though. Trey has all of a sudden decided that school is torture and he does not want to go. I feel that it is a reaction against school because of my teaching experience. I think he feels my tension and so he is focusing anger on school. He will be fine - both of us will. The Crucible is going badly. However, the class perked up when they heard that one of the girls was naked in the woods. I need lots of advice. Here is a fun assignment for my clever friends - We have to create "Activators" before we begin a new lesson. Something that will get the kids excited about what we are going to study. Before we began a character writing assignment, my activator was to put a bunch of classic and modern well-known characters on the board and asked them to pick a character and give me three reasons why they know, remember and like that character. It was OK, but if you can think of something for the other elements of the short story, anything is welcome. More later!
Monday, September 11, 2006
Fun With Words
From a "Do Now" in my class:
"You never know if you are setting someone up with a child mullester or something . . "
"You never know if you are setting someone up with a child mullester or something . . "
Sunday, September 10, 2006
What o Do?
I spend all weekend trying to find a way to teach my 11th graders skills they should already have. To quote Napoleon Dynamite, "They don't have any skills." In response to my writing prompt, "What type of career do you want to have when you finish high school? Give me three reasons you want that career," one girl wrote: "I want to be a nurse cause I like to help people. After I get finished with nursing I want to go to cosmotology school because I like to do hair."
Another girl wants to be a plastic surgeon because, "some people are misshapen and deformed and I would like to give them a boost of confidence."
Another boy said he wanted to be a "street pharmacist."
Princes wrote that she wanted to be "a surgeon." This makes sense because she told a boy in class one day, "If you touch me again, I will cut you mofo."
Others just wrote three reasons why they wanted to be something: "I lik baseball. I lik money. I lik playing baseball." Makes sense to me.
In my 10th grade class, I have a boy who is extraordinarily gay. He wears shirts that say, "Taste the Rainbow," and "I'm not gay but my wiener is." He is in the color guard and wears long earrings. He is in a class, a school really, full of rednecks and homophobes. Actually, he is in one of my better classes, but the kids in the back keep throwing things at him. They are too fast for me to catch them, but Cody complains everyday. On Friday, he made a sexual remark to a boy that called him a faggot and I thought there was going to be a fight. I tried to talk to them about kindness - you may not like what someone else does, but we must be kind to each other. They listened and sat down, but I fear this is situation will erupt into violence one day. What do I do? Should I ask the gay kid to tone it down? Ignore it and continue to teach kindness? I am at a loss.
Another girl wants to be a plastic surgeon because, "some people are misshapen and deformed and I would like to give them a boost of confidence."
Another boy said he wanted to be a "street pharmacist."
Princes wrote that she wanted to be "a surgeon." This makes sense because she told a boy in class one day, "If you touch me again, I will cut you mofo."
Others just wrote three reasons why they wanted to be something: "I lik baseball. I lik money. I lik playing baseball." Makes sense to me.
In my 10th grade class, I have a boy who is extraordinarily gay. He wears shirts that say, "Taste the Rainbow," and "I'm not gay but my wiener is." He is in the color guard and wears long earrings. He is in a class, a school really, full of rednecks and homophobes. Actually, he is in one of my better classes, but the kids in the back keep throwing things at him. They are too fast for me to catch them, but Cody complains everyday. On Friday, he made a sexual remark to a boy that called him a faggot and I thought there was going to be a fight. I tried to talk to them about kindness - you may not like what someone else does, but we must be kind to each other. They listened and sat down, but I fear this is situation will erupt into violence one day. What do I do? Should I ask the gay kid to tone it down? Ignore it and continue to teach kindness? I am at a loss.
Friday, September 08, 2006
I've Lost Track
Well the roller coaster continues. I could blog everyday about what happens in my strange classroom, but I spend all of my time working and planning for the next day. I finally started writing kids up. One told me to shut up and he spent 3 days in ISS. I was thrilled to see him go and hated it when he returned. He's a mouth-breather that thinks he is too cool for anyone. I have to say that I hate him - not something I like feeling, but honestly, he is a smart mouth. I found comfort in the fact that all the teachers hate him - loathe him in fact.
I am still struggling with my eleventh graders. They are a surly bunch and they sometimes ruin my entire day - I have them first period. It has been difficult to get through the Puritans, but I thought they may enjoy Patrick Henry's "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" speech. I talked about how we are persuaded, and I had them do an ad analysis, like we did in rhetoric Kirsten. I asked them to bring in an ad and only two did - out of 30. Luckily, I was prepared with some ad's from O magazine. They did not like it but they did it. It was like pulling teeth to get them to talk. I talked about persuasion - how are you persuaded? Who can persuade you? I enjoyed it, but they did not seem to really care. The next day I asked them this question, "What would persuade you to go to war?" Blank stares. I pushed. Many said "Nothing." I introduced Patrick Henry and his speech to the Virginia Convention. Before reading his speech, I showed them a clip from Braveheart - the one where he stirs them up to fight the English even though they were outnumbered. They liked it, but mainly because of the cursing and mooning. After watching that, I read Henry's speech. I got into it - not because of them, but because I was inspired. It really is quite a nice speech. As I am reading I hear, "You gettin into this Ms." Yeah - I really was. for a few minutes, all their eyes were on me and I could feel their interest. Alas today was another confrontational day: no books or talking; except for rude comments. Back on the rollercoaster.
The stories I hear from these kids are heartbreaking - and funny. Here is an example of an original simile written by one of my kids - "Neal is such a good player its like he's Isaac Newton." Cute.
I miss all of you very much. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of each of you. Love you!
I am still struggling with my eleventh graders. They are a surly bunch and they sometimes ruin my entire day - I have them first period. It has been difficult to get through the Puritans, but I thought they may enjoy Patrick Henry's "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" speech. I talked about how we are persuaded, and I had them do an ad analysis, like we did in rhetoric Kirsten. I asked them to bring in an ad and only two did - out of 30. Luckily, I was prepared with some ad's from O magazine. They did not like it but they did it. It was like pulling teeth to get them to talk. I talked about persuasion - how are you persuaded? Who can persuade you? I enjoyed it, but they did not seem to really care. The next day I asked them this question, "What would persuade you to go to war?" Blank stares. I pushed. Many said "Nothing." I introduced Patrick Henry and his speech to the Virginia Convention. Before reading his speech, I showed them a clip from Braveheart - the one where he stirs them up to fight the English even though they were outnumbered. They liked it, but mainly because of the cursing and mooning. After watching that, I read Henry's speech. I got into it - not because of them, but because I was inspired. It really is quite a nice speech. As I am reading I hear, "You gettin into this Ms." Yeah - I really was. for a few minutes, all their eyes were on me and I could feel their interest. Alas today was another confrontational day: no books or talking; except for rude comments. Back on the rollercoaster.
The stories I hear from these kids are heartbreaking - and funny. Here is an example of an original simile written by one of my kids - "Neal is such a good player its like he's Isaac Newton." Cute.
I miss all of you very much. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of each of you. Love you!
Friday, August 25, 2006
Week 2
Friday's seem to end on a good note. Today, state superintendent Cathy Cox was in our school. The administration stressed that we should have our rooms ready and our students well behaved for her visit. Well, I knew at least I could have my room clean. Someone must be praying for me because Cathy Cox came down our hallway during my 6th period class - my AP class. I am blessed to have a room full of bright and energetic 10th graders. They are cute and loud - very loud. I was teaching them about irony in poetry and they just weren't getting it, so I broke out in song - literally. The Alaniss Morisette song "Isn't it Ironic" sprang from my lips before I could even think about what I was doing. The kids loved it, although a few called American Idol on an imaginary phone and said, "Hello, American Idol? I do not want to vote for Ms. Taylor." They were laughing and learning - something hard to do at their age - when the door opened and in walked our principal, Cathy Cox, our assistant principal and two school board members.
Ms. Cox said, "you are having too much fun in here, what are you learning about?" The class shouted "Poetry."
"Poetry's not suppopsed to be fun is it?"
Here's the part I really like - One of the girls up front said, "It never was before Ms. Taylor."
Oh, how nice and proud I felt. The principal whispered, "Nice job" in my ear and Ms. Cox stayed in our class for quite a while. When they told her she had to go, she turned to me and said, "very lovely job. You should be proud."
As the door closed, our principal said, "That is one of our first year teachers."
I strained my ears to hear Ms. Cox's response of "Impressive."
That was a really nice feeling, but if she had come just 30 minutes later she would have seen the same teacher (me), giving the same lesson and doing the same thing, but getting a very different response from another class. In my last class, I took up a deck of cards, two cell phones, and stopped some kids from playing a spirited game of "Quarters." Peaks and Valleys. Ups and Downs. I have to say though that the peaks were better than the valley's today.
Ms. Cox said, "you are having too much fun in here, what are you learning about?" The class shouted "Poetry."
"Poetry's not suppopsed to be fun is it?"
Here's the part I really like - One of the girls up front said, "It never was before Ms. Taylor."
Oh, how nice and proud I felt. The principal whispered, "Nice job" in my ear and Ms. Cox stayed in our class for quite a while. When they told her she had to go, she turned to me and said, "very lovely job. You should be proud."
As the door closed, our principal said, "That is one of our first year teachers."
I strained my ears to hear Ms. Cox's response of "Impressive."
That was a really nice feeling, but if she had come just 30 minutes later she would have seen the same teacher (me), giving the same lesson and doing the same thing, but getting a very different response from another class. In my last class, I took up a deck of cards, two cell phones, and stopped some kids from playing a spirited game of "Quarters." Peaks and Valleys. Ups and Downs. I have to say though that the peaks were better than the valley's today.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Still Diving
Well, I survived my first long week as a teacher. Friday ended on a great note when my seventh period class of delinquents actually behaved and produced some work for me. In that class alone, out of 35 students, 23 of them have over 15 disciplinary referrals, and they are only in the 10th grade. However, one is 18 and one is 17 so I guess they have been around a while. They are amazingly low performers. They have no idea how to spot a simile or a metaphor and repeatedly misuse words - Where for Wear; hear for here. In the first week alone I have thought to myself, "Well, I can just give them busy work until I can figure out how to reach them." I have thought and said just about everything I told myself I would never do. I yelled "Be quiet" yesterday after repeatedly asking them to "listen up." They responded to a yell when a respectful request would not work. I am going to point this out to them later on, when I know them better.
Public school - at least at McIntosh - has the feel of a prison. Adults standing around ordering those in the hall to move along. I was not prepared for the barriers the kids put up between me and them. They view me as the enemy, not to be trusted, and hold me at arms length. There are a few who have already declared me the "nicest teacher in the school," and allow me to help them. I caught one boy spitting on the floor in my class and I said, "Tyler, do you know that there is a little old lady that comes through here and cleans up these classrooms. She is someone's mother. Would you want your mother to have to clean up someone's spit?"
"Yes maam" he responded, "because my mother is a piece of low life trash."
"No she is not," I said, and the girl sitting next to him said "Yes she is Ms. Taylor. You just don't know. His grandmother has him now and it is the best thing that ever happened to him."
What do you say to that? I told him that he can change his life and what his mother does is not his fault. Maybe he will believe me. He just got back from the alternative school and I really hope I can help him. But there are so many! It is truly overwhelming. I never dreamed it would be this hard, but the moments that you see some progress outweigh the bad. Things like, "Ms. Taylor, Ms. Boyd went over this last year and I never understood it, but you make it so easy." I can see why teachers return again and again to overcrowded classrooms and lousy pay. Next week we study the Puritan writers and begin introducing The Crucible. I will keep you updated.
I forgot to tell you where the "Word Work" sign came from - Tony Morrison's Nobel Prize acceptance speech - "Word work is sublime . . . "
Public school - at least at McIntosh - has the feel of a prison. Adults standing around ordering those in the hall to move along. I was not prepared for the barriers the kids put up between me and them. They view me as the enemy, not to be trusted, and hold me at arms length. There are a few who have already declared me the "nicest teacher in the school," and allow me to help them. I caught one boy spitting on the floor in my class and I said, "Tyler, do you know that there is a little old lady that comes through here and cleans up these classrooms. She is someone's mother. Would you want your mother to have to clean up someone's spit?"
"Yes maam" he responded, "because my mother is a piece of low life trash."
"No she is not," I said, and the girl sitting next to him said "Yes she is Ms. Taylor. You just don't know. His grandmother has him now and it is the best thing that ever happened to him."
What do you say to that? I told him that he can change his life and what his mother does is not his fault. Maybe he will believe me. He just got back from the alternative school and I really hope I can help him. But there are so many! It is truly overwhelming. I never dreamed it would be this hard, but the moments that you see some progress outweigh the bad. Things like, "Ms. Taylor, Ms. Boyd went over this last year and I never understood it, but you make it so easy." I can see why teachers return again and again to overcrowded classrooms and lousy pay. Next week we study the Puritan writers and begin introducing The Crucible. I will keep you updated.
I forgot to tell you where the "Word Work" sign came from - Tony Morrison's Nobel Prize acceptance speech - "Word work is sublime . . . "
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
The Puritans
I need a little help with the Puritans. Today's lesson went over like a flop. They liked the part where I talked about what it means to lose something and how Bradstreet thanked God for her loss, but after that it was all down hill. Plus, I spelled unconditional wrong and the girl who rolled her eyes at me pointed it out and laughed. Butt hole.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
The Inferno
I was watching Grizzly Man today and found a perfect metaphor for my first day as a high school teacher. The man they were interviewing about the grizzly guy said, "I guess he thought he was going to get out there with those bears and it was going to be a feeling of mutual respect and love. I guess he thought they would see that he cared and it would be some type of beautiful relationship. What he did not know was that the bears just wanted to eat him." I feel like the grizzly man. I trapsed into the classroom believing that the kids would see how nice I am, and how much I want to help them. Instead, they saw dinner, or a snack really. They devoured me in short order. By the fourth period, I wanted to go home and never come back. Right now, I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of returning tomorrow. I waver between confidence and desolation. I have worked all weekend preparing for next week, but I do not know if I can get them to shut up and listen. I have to start my eleventh graders with the Puritans and the Pilgrims and I have to find a way to make them care. I am going to do Ann Bradstreet's poem about the burning of her house and the loss of her grandchild. I will introduce these poems by asking the kids to write about a traumatic event in their life and explain how they handles that tragedy. Maybe that will build up a sense of empathy with the little ones. We will see. I know that if I do not give up, it will be ok. Pray that I will have a better week.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
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