On July 23rd, the South Louisiana (SLA) region of Teach For America had its first All Corps orientation where the first year corps members and returning members meet collectively to begin discussion about the journey ahead. During this time, we meet at a school, in this case Livonia High School, and divide into our geographic assignments to meet with the director who will be overseeing our progress as teachers. The director of our location/placement tells us his/her goals and what needs to be accomplished this year. Essentially, it's a heart warming ice breaker and a time for everyone to develop a cohesive vision for the upcoming school year.
This year, it didn't give us that same vibe. In fact, since then, I have felt unsure and fearful of what is to come. I've asked myself repeatedly why I feel such immense stress when school hasn't even begun yet and I'm still in the Summer stretch. But after Evan (my roommate) and I talked tonight, the realization both of us came to was how the All Corps caused us to feel the anxiety. Neither of us felt comfortable with the conviction, or lack thereof, that SLA's office conveyed last Saturday. Instead, it was fear. It was desperation and a lack of hope.
Last year they walked, talked, and acted with strong purpose. Michael Tipton stood at the helm, dapper as could be with his suit and tie. Ella gave a compelling speech about her time in Delta Mississippi and her successes while she taught. Andy Sears had his chin high with his coffee mug at his grasp and legal tablet ready to talk about those Big Goals. Everyone seemed to be filled with a strong connection built by the pillars of Teach For America. That motivated us as first year corps members.
This year, Michael Tipton was directing cars at the Livonia HS parking lot. Andy Sears broke down and admitted to his disability as a child and how a select few teachers gave him the education and faith he needed to excel. Bernadette walked around clearly flustered. Ella explained how students in rural SLA average a 19 on the ACT, which is two below the national average. She also mentioned that ONLY the top 10% kids take the ACT. And the cold spaghetti served stood no match to last year's Jimmy John's subs. All were pronounced signs of a lack of authority and initiative (except the last one, that was just disappointing).
Evan and I agree that, going forward, the fears we feel stemmed from SLA's terror of another failure. After that day and speaking with my school board, I cannot help but feel the doubt they have in our success. There is a lack of faith that has grown over this past summer, and we are walking into a school year where Baton Rouge schools are refusing to hire any more TFA teachers, SLA has branched out to more rural areas to place the incoming members, and school boards are beginning to question the effectiveness of TFA's talent.
The message going forward can't be that we will do anything for the students to provide success. We can't keep giving people an idealistic pitch for why their schools should hire Teach For America corps members. The truth is that these communities are resistant to change. Baton Rouge is one of the most divided communities in the nation and reflects the structure of its smaller surrounding towns. In the 60s they were this way and in 2011 they have not changed. The deep and damaging systemic issues our communities face in South Louisiana go deeper than schools, but carry into every aspect of life. For this reason, what happens now, whether Teach For America is in SLA or not, will continue to happen as long as the people remain closed to change.
So for first year teachers and for any average person, it is easy to say, "Well damn. How the hell are we supposed to accomplish anything?" What are we supposed to achieve when we have this tidal wave of antiquated order engulfing us? TFA SLA has lost a lot of faith from the community, but more importantly, it has lost some faith in itself. As a result, I feel like people are simply crossing their fingers now to hope for the best.
During these trying times, it is easy to victimize oneself, search for pity, or sulk over the adversity. But in this case, a struggle such as this is where Teach For America can thrive. They select a load of raw talent every year ready to give it their all and put forth their utmost commitment. As the community faces us in disappointment, a lack of trust, and/or hostility, there is one thing we must do in return.
...Prove them wrong. To win their hearts and trust back, we must first show them that we are fully capable of teaching a classroom. We are fully capable of taking in less privileged children and offering them a great education. We can confidently face anyone square in the eye with conviction and stand up at any height for the good of Teach For America. We can show communities that Teach For America can bring positive change, and that change will lead to progress.
TFA SLA is freshly squeezed orange juice, sitting in a dirty, foggy, tall glass. It's time to show people it's OK to imbibe, and even better to drink in a clean glass.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Thank you Mother Nature
Wednesday night I received an automated voice message from Pointe Coupee School Board that Thursday classes will be canceled due inclement weather patterns. After a casual night with some friends at a local bar, Mother Nature bestowed upon all southern Louisiana teachers a second automated message voicing the same warnings for Friday. In a fit of joy, my roommates and I organized a party at our place where our house transformed from a living space into a teacher-filled festivus.
After a long weekend of great times, the harsh reality is hitting all too hard. After our party Friday night, a low key Saturday, and Super Bowl Sunday combined with planning, I wish time could repeat itself. The feeling is simply too blissful to let go and I would give anything to hold on to this moment. This long weekend makes me miss my childhood where there are no worries or external pressures. For two full days I didn't have to think about much or concern myself over urgent matters. For the first time in ages, I was able to focus on one thing -- my happiness.
Sometimes we get so lost in our endeavors, responsibilities, and pursuits, that we lose track of what matters most. Whether that be family, friends, your health, or your happiness, one can easily lose grasp of reality because he/she immerses themselves in work. Then you form a tunnel vision with the only thing in sight being your end goal. How you reach that is by any means necessary. Skip a few days at the gym here and there. Eat out here and there. Forget to talk to family and friends at times. Suddenly, after so many mishaps, you realize you've gained twenty pounds and haven't talked to your family in over 3 months. It is so easy to lose track of reality, and when we do, we don't realize it until we are reminded (probably by those you've neglected, ironically).
Last weekend, I was at a TFA house of first year corps members where Emma Kingdon, Madyson Lubba, Alexandra Sullivan, and Julia live. They've been close with my roommates and me since the beginning, and they had people over to hang out. With several friends around me, Evan (best friend/roommate)turned to me and stressed, as he's done so many times, that I should have so much more confidence. At that moment, Fas, who is a second year teacher and absolute stud in the classroom, looks at me, and says, "Marco, you have the best qualities of me, Aaron (roomy), Sean (roomy) and everyone in this classroom and are better than my best qualities."
This is coming from a guy who was Mr. Illinois football two years in a row in high school, who wrestled at the elite program of the University of Iowa, who was accepted into the University of Texas Law School, and who continues to perform impeccably in the classroom. When he said that, I honestly couldn't believe it. But he meant it and everyone within ear shot agreed. A compliment such as that can be an ego booster, but can also be a reminder of one's potential in a time where failure and hardship are prevalent. I've been trying my best to help my boys in the classroom, but I've experienced so many bad days and failures that any sort of success just seems surreal, perhaps even too hard to believe. But once in a while, reminders like the one from Fas and this weekend can show one how beautiful life really is. Weekends such as this one can remind us that despite the uphill battle we walk into every week, the other side will have a steady drop into greener pastures.
After a long weekend of great times, the harsh reality is hitting all too hard. After our party Friday night, a low key Saturday, and Super Bowl Sunday combined with planning, I wish time could repeat itself. The feeling is simply too blissful to let go and I would give anything to hold on to this moment. This long weekend makes me miss my childhood where there are no worries or external pressures. For two full days I didn't have to think about much or concern myself over urgent matters. For the first time in ages, I was able to focus on one thing -- my happiness.
Sometimes we get so lost in our endeavors, responsibilities, and pursuits, that we lose track of what matters most. Whether that be family, friends, your health, or your happiness, one can easily lose grasp of reality because he/she immerses themselves in work. Then you form a tunnel vision with the only thing in sight being your end goal. How you reach that is by any means necessary. Skip a few days at the gym here and there. Eat out here and there. Forget to talk to family and friends at times. Suddenly, after so many mishaps, you realize you've gained twenty pounds and haven't talked to your family in over 3 months. It is so easy to lose track of reality, and when we do, we don't realize it until we are reminded (probably by those you've neglected, ironically).
Last weekend, I was at a TFA house of first year corps members where Emma Kingdon, Madyson Lubba, Alexandra Sullivan, and Julia live. They've been close with my roommates and me since the beginning, and they had people over to hang out. With several friends around me, Evan (best friend/roommate)turned to me and stressed, as he's done so many times, that I should have so much more confidence. At that moment, Fas, who is a second year teacher and absolute stud in the classroom, looks at me, and says, "Marco, you have the best qualities of me, Aaron (roomy), Sean (roomy) and everyone in this classroom and are better than my best qualities."
This is coming from a guy who was Mr. Illinois football two years in a row in high school, who wrestled at the elite program of the University of Iowa, who was accepted into the University of Texas Law School, and who continues to perform impeccably in the classroom. When he said that, I honestly couldn't believe it. But he meant it and everyone within ear shot agreed. A compliment such as that can be an ego booster, but can also be a reminder of one's potential in a time where failure and hardship are prevalent. I've been trying my best to help my boys in the classroom, but I've experienced so many bad days and failures that any sort of success just seems surreal, perhaps even too hard to believe. But once in a while, reminders like the one from Fas and this weekend can show one how beautiful life really is. Weekends such as this one can remind us that despite the uphill battle we walk into every week, the other side will have a steady drop into greener pastures.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Where the wild things are
During my stress relieving workout tonight, I glanced at the clock and found that it was 9pm already. Then as I rushed to squeeze in those last few exercises, I realized that I said "already" to myself. With LSU students all around me, I recalled college when it would reach 1am and I'd be with my friends on a Tuesday. At around this time, we would consider whether to go to sleep or continue with on with our night. It wasn't until we were bored or remembered we had an "early" class the next morning. Now, I'm trying to get into bed by 10:30 in order to get sufficient rest, or else I'm doomed to a day of failed lessons.
Things have changed drastically and we've swung from a life of bliss and little care to a life responsible for the future and well=being of already underprivileged students. Yet as challenging as it has been, I'm actually liking it now. The boys I've inherited have engraved their labels and reputations at Rosenwald Elementary (and for that matter, other schools they were expelled from), and I find myself really liking the new setting. These boys who have been deemed the rotten apples of the bunch have been handed off to me, and I think they like the respect I show them. Ms. Oliver, the student counselor I work with, and I have shown these four (and counting) boys a sense of equality and zero hostility. Because of that, behavior in our classroom -- and throughout the school -- has improved. They aren't scolded by other teachers and students which leaves them in a position to outwardly defend themselves. They are no longer looking over their shoulders wondering who's looking at them or judging them. With us, they look relaxed and calm.
Tyrese Bennett asked me as I took him to his Art class at the Centre For The Arts if I would adopt him. Mike Johnson apologized to me (perhaps for the first time his entire life) and is addressing me as Sir. Trey Johnson simply smiles (and growls) when he sees me. And Travis Derosan is simply the man.
I'll be getting more of the same type of students (boys of course), and I can't wait for the great moments we'll be having together. Already, Tyrese has tried to run away through the fire exit window and cut his lip in the process. Trey cussed out Ms. Kara. Tyrese and Mike almost fought and I had to restrain Tyrese for 20 minutes until our resource officer came to help. I've spent countless minutes, perhaps hours, talking Mike into coming back to class. And now I'm in the process of preparing 3 boys who are around 3 or 4 grades levels behind and 1 who is 1 level behind.
It's a grind, but I mine as well try to have fun with it. I think I'll be buying a FlipIt for when students have their outbursts to show you and have something to remember my boys by. Things they say and do are too priceless to miss. Because I have this type of bunch, things that come out of their mouth carry the same absurdity. It's normal to me now, but if you came into my class and saw Trey growling at me while Tyrese flashes out, you'd agree it's picture perfect.
Things have changed drastically and we've swung from a life of bliss and little care to a life responsible for the future and well=being of already underprivileged students. Yet as challenging as it has been, I'm actually liking it now. The boys I've inherited have engraved their labels and reputations at Rosenwald Elementary (and for that matter, other schools they were expelled from), and I find myself really liking the new setting. These boys who have been deemed the rotten apples of the bunch have been handed off to me, and I think they like the respect I show them. Ms. Oliver, the student counselor I work with, and I have shown these four (and counting) boys a sense of equality and zero hostility. Because of that, behavior in our classroom -- and throughout the school -- has improved. They aren't scolded by other teachers and students which leaves them in a position to outwardly defend themselves. They are no longer looking over their shoulders wondering who's looking at them or judging them. With us, they look relaxed and calm.
Tyrese Bennett asked me as I took him to his Art class at the Centre For The Arts if I would adopt him. Mike Johnson apologized to me (perhaps for the first time his entire life) and is addressing me as Sir. Trey Johnson simply smiles (and growls) when he sees me. And Travis Derosan is simply the man.
I'll be getting more of the same type of students (boys of course), and I can't wait for the great moments we'll be having together. Already, Tyrese has tried to run away through the fire exit window and cut his lip in the process. Trey cussed out Ms. Kara. Tyrese and Mike almost fought and I had to restrain Tyrese for 20 minutes until our resource officer came to help. I've spent countless minutes, perhaps hours, talking Mike into coming back to class. And now I'm in the process of preparing 3 boys who are around 3 or 4 grades levels behind and 1 who is 1 level behind.
It's a grind, but I mine as well try to have fun with it. I think I'll be buying a FlipIt for when students have their outbursts to show you and have something to remember my boys by. Things they say and do are too priceless to miss. Because I have this type of bunch, things that come out of their mouth carry the same absurdity. It's normal to me now, but if you came into my class and saw Trey growling at me while Tyrese flashes out, you'd agree it's picture perfect.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Damn has it really been two months?!
I would first like to say that I'm ashamed for neglecting this blog for so long. A lot has happened since I last updated this blog, and during that time, I've come across more and more systemic issues that have made this experience more challenging, ya, but also more determined to do something about it.
For the November unit, I finally got on my game and formulated Thanksgiving themed projects which formed a cross-curricular approach which teachers loved. Kindergarten to 2nd grade created Thanksgiving place mats with scaffolded complexities, but still challenged the students to learn about the Plymouth colony, the Mayflower, pilgrims, hexagons & pentagons, complex patterns, and acrostic poetry ALL in one project. Grades 3-5 created Thanksgiving colonies, which turned out to be a huge success. The students were taught about map scaling, horizontal and vertical lines, point plotting on a map, map legend, the Plymouth colony, the Mayflower, the first Thanksgiving, the Compass Rose, cardinal directions, and how to operate a ruler (yes, several of them didn't know how to differentiate inches and centimeters, or even tell that twelve inches are in one foot). But in the end, they were able to cut out 1/2 inch thick lines and tell me where everything is on a map using their map legend.
Christmas was a little more laid back, but it gave me the chance to add some spirit to the school. To cheer up the aura of the school, I made a huge Christmas tree in the hallway and had students create ornaments based on the project we undertake. Kindergarten made Rudolph ornaments, 1-2 made Grinch ornaments, and 3-5 made ornaments based on the country they read about with different Christmas traditions than Americans. Once again, it was still a learning experience, but no where near as rigorous.
So that brings me to the next big thing -- I'm no longer an Art teacher. Well, technically I have one more week in it, but after this week, I'll be the new Special Education teacher/Interventionist at Rosenwald. Not only that, I'll be instructing the emotionally disturbed students (mainly boys).
No this is not a joke, and yes, perhaps I'm a little nuts. But this goes back to the challenge I face of confronting these systemic problems within Louisiana's education system. As much as I was able to accomplish in Art, it wasn't gratifying, and didn't give me any personal bond with the students. The only way to simplify the situation is with an analogy.
Suppose the students were like puppies and their primary teacher was their owner. Over a period of time, that respect and loyalty builds between the two, while, me, the Art teacher, is the guy who the puppies see now and again who gives them treats and pets them. Despite everything I can try to do for students in my 30 minutes per day, they would never see me as he nurturing figure who can play an integral role in the lives. For this reason, working as a special education teacher or interventionist will leave me with one small bunch who I can formulate a significant bond with.
So what if they're a little wild or angry, Papa Bear wants his group of cubs, and he's prepared for whatever they might try to pull. Rosenwald left me with little for Art, and I am leaving it with a replenished storage of supplies for the semester and beyond. I raised over $1150 during my time as an Art teacher, and I'm applying to earn $1500 more before I leave. Now as a substantial teacher, I'm ready for the next challenges and opportunities. Most of all, I look forward to finally having the opportunity to touch these kids' lives (something that few others have done for these boys).
For the November unit, I finally got on my game and formulated Thanksgiving themed projects which formed a cross-curricular approach which teachers loved. Kindergarten to 2nd grade created Thanksgiving place mats with scaffolded complexities, but still challenged the students to learn about the Plymouth colony, the Mayflower, pilgrims, hexagons & pentagons, complex patterns, and acrostic poetry ALL in one project. Grades 3-5 created Thanksgiving colonies, which turned out to be a huge success. The students were taught about map scaling, horizontal and vertical lines, point plotting on a map, map legend, the Plymouth colony, the Mayflower, the first Thanksgiving, the Compass Rose, cardinal directions, and how to operate a ruler (yes, several of them didn't know how to differentiate inches and centimeters, or even tell that twelve inches are in one foot). But in the end, they were able to cut out 1/2 inch thick lines and tell me where everything is on a map using their map legend.
Christmas was a little more laid back, but it gave me the chance to add some spirit to the school. To cheer up the aura of the school, I made a huge Christmas tree in the hallway and had students create ornaments based on the project we undertake. Kindergarten made Rudolph ornaments, 1-2 made Grinch ornaments, and 3-5 made ornaments based on the country they read about with different Christmas traditions than Americans. Once again, it was still a learning experience, but no where near as rigorous.
So that brings me to the next big thing -- I'm no longer an Art teacher. Well, technically I have one more week in it, but after this week, I'll be the new Special Education teacher/Interventionist at Rosenwald. Not only that, I'll be instructing the emotionally disturbed students (mainly boys).
No this is not a joke, and yes, perhaps I'm a little nuts. But this goes back to the challenge I face of confronting these systemic problems within Louisiana's education system. As much as I was able to accomplish in Art, it wasn't gratifying, and didn't give me any personal bond with the students. The only way to simplify the situation is with an analogy.
Suppose the students were like puppies and their primary teacher was their owner. Over a period of time, that respect and loyalty builds between the two, while, me, the Art teacher, is the guy who the puppies see now and again who gives them treats and pets them. Despite everything I can try to do for students in my 30 minutes per day, they would never see me as he nurturing figure who can play an integral role in the lives. For this reason, working as a special education teacher or interventionist will leave me with one small bunch who I can formulate a significant bond with.
So what if they're a little wild or angry, Papa Bear wants his group of cubs, and he's prepared for whatever they might try to pull. Rosenwald left me with little for Art, and I am leaving it with a replenished storage of supplies for the semester and beyond. I raised over $1150 during my time as an Art teacher, and I'm applying to earn $1500 more before I leave. Now as a substantial teacher, I'm ready for the next challenges and opportunities. Most of all, I look forward to finally having the opportunity to touch these kids' lives (something that few others have done for these boys).
Monday, November 1, 2010
Subtitute teaching is a dirty job: Part II
This one is silly.
The Friday before last I took off to plan my curriculum for the semester (fail). I gave the substitute enough to keep the kids plenty busy throughout each block. Granted, I didn't expect a great day, but I wasn't expecting what I walked into Monday morning.
When I got to my room, my door window was broken and door knob was completely broken to the point where it couldn't close. I immediately started interrogating students to find out which kid did it. Then I asked some students from down the hall, and they informed me that it wasn't any student -- it was the sub.
Out of a fit of rage, she apparently SLAMMED my door SO hard as the 9:00-9:30am 4th grade block left the room that it caused that damage! How she made it through the rest of the day, only God and the students following know...Poor thing. For the entire Monday, kids told me, "Man Mr. Ramirez, don't leave again. That lady was meeaan. YOU our art teacher."
To that I said softly, "Aww thank you. Now raise your hand if you want to speak."
The Friday before last I took off to plan my curriculum for the semester (fail). I gave the substitute enough to keep the kids plenty busy throughout each block. Granted, I didn't expect a great day, but I wasn't expecting what I walked into Monday morning.
When I got to my room, my door window was broken and door knob was completely broken to the point where it couldn't close. I immediately started interrogating students to find out which kid did it. Then I asked some students from down the hall, and they informed me that it wasn't any student -- it was the sub.
Out of a fit of rage, she apparently SLAMMED my door SO hard as the 9:00-9:30am 4th grade block left the room that it caused that damage! How she made it through the rest of the day, only God and the students following know...Poor thing. For the entire Monday, kids told me, "Man Mr. Ramirez, don't leave again. That lady was meeaan. YOU our art teacher."
To that I said softly, "Aww thank you. Now raise your hand if you want to speak."
Substitute teaching is a dirty job
This one I completely forgot about until recently.
So before getting hired at Rosenwald, I took a few subbing jobs. Let me first just say that if you ever meet someone who chooses substitute teaching as a mode of income or job, shake their hand immediately. As it is, students I've encountered have a very different mentality than what I'm used to. Commonly, the respect from students is given to you on the first day and it is up to you whether you maintain it or not. Here, it's different. Kids aren't scared when they're written up, put out, or sent to the office. You have to respect them and be on their asses constantly until they feel the security of your structure and work ethic to start respecting you. In other words, you have to work to gain their respect...It's admirable in a way, but not always easy for the teacher.
So this one day I walk into class. Teachers typically leave lesson plans for you to teach with and basically know what the hell you're doing that day...This one didn't. She left me the daily schedule and the textbooks. So instead of listing what story they're working on, what literary skills are being taught, and what math concepts they're doing for the week, I had a schedule telling me Reading 9:00-10:00, Spelling 10:00-10:45, Lunch 10:45-11:20, etc.
At around 7:45 the students started trickling in and then the teacher who I was subbing for walked in. We made small talk, and then she pointed to the desks of the "bad ones". Then she left me with some shocking words:
"Now let me tell you I've been teachin' for 24 yeauhs. I've taught in Mississippi, Alabama, New Ohleans after Katrina, and now here. And these kids (pauses to point to just about every kid in the room)...these kids is crack babies." Mind you this was within clear earshot of the kids. And it doesn't stop there...
"So what I do to keep em in line is I tell them I'll call my brother who's a cop and if they act up, he's going to come over here and arrest them. Plus I have a boyfriend who BRPD...You should be fine though."
When she said that I maintained the crossed arms and calmly nodded my head with scrunched eyebrows to express my disdain to the unfortunate situation. On the inside, I screamed, "Get the f*** out?!?! She did NOT just say that in front of the kids! And what am I supposed to do?? I don't have a love interest in the Baton Rouge Police Department!! O and what a great way to introduce my to your class..." Then the morning bell rang.
For the rest of the day this teacher's words orbited my head like birdies when a cartoon character gets hit with a frying pan. Kids cried because I didn't let them do what they wanted. These first graders screamed at each other, tried to fight or hit one another, teased one another like no other, would NOT stop talking, and showed every sign that this teacher did not have management of her class.
I ended up choosing to sub for that teacher again the next day. It didn't go much better but Rylacia did leave a sweet note on the teacher's desk for me at the end of the day:
"You are a real real nice teacher."
So before getting hired at Rosenwald, I took a few subbing jobs. Let me first just say that if you ever meet someone who chooses substitute teaching as a mode of income or job, shake their hand immediately. As it is, students I've encountered have a very different mentality than what I'm used to. Commonly, the respect from students is given to you on the first day and it is up to you whether you maintain it or not. Here, it's different. Kids aren't scared when they're written up, put out, or sent to the office. You have to respect them and be on their asses constantly until they feel the security of your structure and work ethic to start respecting you. In other words, you have to work to gain their respect...It's admirable in a way, but not always easy for the teacher.
So this one day I walk into class. Teachers typically leave lesson plans for you to teach with and basically know what the hell you're doing that day...This one didn't. She left me the daily schedule and the textbooks. So instead of listing what story they're working on, what literary skills are being taught, and what math concepts they're doing for the week, I had a schedule telling me Reading 9:00-10:00, Spelling 10:00-10:45, Lunch 10:45-11:20, etc.
At around 7:45 the students started trickling in and then the teacher who I was subbing for walked in. We made small talk, and then she pointed to the desks of the "bad ones". Then she left me with some shocking words:
"Now let me tell you I've been teachin' for 24 yeauhs. I've taught in Mississippi, Alabama, New Ohleans after Katrina, and now here. And these kids (pauses to point to just about every kid in the room)...these kids is crack babies." Mind you this was within clear earshot of the kids. And it doesn't stop there...
"So what I do to keep em in line is I tell them I'll call my brother who's a cop and if they act up, he's going to come over here and arrest them. Plus I have a boyfriend who BRPD...You should be fine though."
When she said that I maintained the crossed arms and calmly nodded my head with scrunched eyebrows to express my disdain to the unfortunate situation. On the inside, I screamed, "Get the f*** out?!?! She did NOT just say that in front of the kids! And what am I supposed to do?? I don't have a love interest in the Baton Rouge Police Department!! O and what a great way to introduce my to your class..." Then the morning bell rang.
For the rest of the day this teacher's words orbited my head like birdies when a cartoon character gets hit with a frying pan. Kids cried because I didn't let them do what they wanted. These first graders screamed at each other, tried to fight or hit one another, teased one another like no other, would NOT stop talking, and showed every sign that this teacher did not have management of her class.
I ended up choosing to sub for that teacher again the next day. It didn't go much better but Rylacia did leave a sweet note on the teacher's desk for me at the end of the day:
"You are a real real nice teacher."
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Lesson #18 from a veteran:
Miss Dixon, a Kindergarten teacher pushing 70 told me after a rough day,
"You gotta get ghetto on these kids!"
...Solid words of wisdom.
"You gotta get ghetto on these kids!"
...Solid words of wisdom.
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