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.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
The flash out
A slang term that kids say a lot here when they get upset is that they are "flashin out". It takes a lot for me not to laugh when I see kids in this state, but it has quickly gotten old from its daily frequency. Every. Single. Day, there is one student during my class who loses his or her temper with another one of the kids, and disrupts my entire lesson. Considering my time with each class lasts only 30 minutes, it's tough to teach an effective lesson, regardless of whether students cooperate or not. For the past two weeks, it's hard to say I've done a good job because I exhaust so much valuable energy into the students, and I wish there was a more simple approach to this situation. Granted, there are a lot of things I need to improve in my demeanor towards the students, but in just two weeks, the aggression of the students has affected me. Especially tonight.
Today began at 4:30am as usual, with a good breakfast (eggs, cereal and a protein shake), and I was out the door to pick up Emma (another first year corps member) by 5:40am. We got out to New Roads, LA by 6:45am and started school at 8. Between 8am-3pm, I had twelve 30-minutes blocks with kindergarten through 5th grade. Today (Thursday), my one planning block of one hour has now become cluster meeting time (meant to improve teacher effectiveness). As a result, there is literally no break until dismissal.
So between 8-3, I had:
- Second grade girl who knocked her leg really hard because she was sitting improperly in her seat and tipped over onto her knee (1st block).
- Kindergarten boy who couldn't hold back his words and blurted out "I love you" to me while we were making a Color Wheel and going over both primary and secondary colors (5th block).
- Kindergarten girl who couldn't stay on task because she has a severe learning disability and is already two years underdeveloped (she's only 5) (6th block).
- Cluster meeting for an hour followed by two minutes to prepare for my 3rd graders who need absolute structure and organization in order to stay engaged. This requires preparation and some time...ya it crashed and burned when I had students start drawing a still life of a pumpkin and my pencils hadn't been sharpened (7th block).
- Verna Dixon's 4th grade came in with a cocky attitude and I forced them to practice walking into my classroom correctly, which did not make them any happier. Austin and Cameron, the ringleaders, felt more courageous than usual, and tested all of my limits. Austin called me a "____ass", it was hard to tell what he said, and Cameron drummed with his pencil , sang in my face while I talked, and made ugly facial expressions (8th).
- The other 4th grade class (Mr. Ben's) wasn't allowed by the PE teacher to get water before my class, which forced me to use my time to rehydrate the kids after they were in the heat for over 30 minutes. So we didn't do too much...(9th block).
- Ms. Smith's 1st graders came in ready for school to end, which led a group of 3-4 boys to walk into my classroom already acting like animals (10th block).
After school, I had to take care of hiring paperwork and planning for my substitute (I'm taking Friday off to formulate a comprehensive unit and semester plan). Then I had a community dinner at Ms. Sternberg's house until 8:30 and got home at around 9 to find Evan, Sean and Brent watching Always Sunny.
That's when I did something out of character. I had to print out work for my sub to give students and when I tried to print, the paper was out. Now last time it happened, Evan exhausted my entire ink cartridge. This time was the paper. But how I reacted was something really shocking. I cursed at Evan, basically verbally attacked him for not having common courtesy, and flat out verbally antagonized him. I even got to the point of saying "Ya, welcome to Pointe Coupee."
...What the hell?...What had gotten into me?
After two weeks, I sounded exactly like one of students. The social immersion at Rosenwald Elem. got the best of me tonight, proving to me just how weak my backbone is. I feel terrible for what I did because, just like the kids do, it was a gross exaggeration of the severity of the matter. The truth is that now I'm sitting here a little embarrassed. I said things that didn't sound like me and weren't me. I felt the same hostility of my students and suddenly took on a whole other attitude.
For ten minutes today, I wasn't Marco Ramirez, the Art teacher. I was Tyrese. I was Austin and Cameron. I was the boys in Ms. Smith's 1st grade class.
...I was the negative force that hinders these kids.
Today began at 4:30am as usual, with a good breakfast (eggs, cereal and a protein shake), and I was out the door to pick up Emma (another first year corps member) by 5:40am. We got out to New Roads, LA by 6:45am and started school at 8. Between 8am-3pm, I had twelve 30-minutes blocks with kindergarten through 5th grade. Today (Thursday), my one planning block of one hour has now become cluster meeting time (meant to improve teacher effectiveness). As a result, there is literally no break until dismissal.
So between 8-3, I had:
- Second grade girl who knocked her leg really hard because she was sitting improperly in her seat and tipped over onto her knee (1st block).
- Kindergarten boy who couldn't hold back his words and blurted out "I love you" to me while we were making a Color Wheel and going over both primary and secondary colors (5th block).
- Kindergarten girl who couldn't stay on task because she has a severe learning disability and is already two years underdeveloped (she's only 5) (6th block).
- Cluster meeting for an hour followed by two minutes to prepare for my 3rd graders who need absolute structure and organization in order to stay engaged. This requires preparation and some time...ya it crashed and burned when I had students start drawing a still life of a pumpkin and my pencils hadn't been sharpened (7th block).
- Verna Dixon's 4th grade came in with a cocky attitude and I forced them to practice walking into my classroom correctly, which did not make them any happier. Austin and Cameron, the ringleaders, felt more courageous than usual, and tested all of my limits. Austin called me a "____ass", it was hard to tell what he said, and Cameron drummed with his pencil , sang in my face while I talked, and made ugly facial expressions (8th).
- The other 4th grade class (Mr. Ben's) wasn't allowed by the PE teacher to get water before my class, which forced me to use my time to rehydrate the kids after they were in the heat for over 30 minutes. So we didn't do too much...(9th block).
- Ms. Smith's 1st graders came in ready for school to end, which led a group of 3-4 boys to walk into my classroom already acting like animals (10th block).
After school, I had to take care of hiring paperwork and planning for my substitute (I'm taking Friday off to formulate a comprehensive unit and semester plan). Then I had a community dinner at Ms. Sternberg's house until 8:30 and got home at around 9 to find Evan, Sean and Brent watching Always Sunny.
That's when I did something out of character. I had to print out work for my sub to give students and when I tried to print, the paper was out. Now last time it happened, Evan exhausted my entire ink cartridge. This time was the paper. But how I reacted was something really shocking. I cursed at Evan, basically verbally attacked him for not having common courtesy, and flat out verbally antagonized him. I even got to the point of saying "Ya, welcome to Pointe Coupee."
...What the hell?...What had gotten into me?
After two weeks, I sounded exactly like one of students. The social immersion at Rosenwald Elem. got the best of me tonight, proving to me just how weak my backbone is. I feel terrible for what I did because, just like the kids do, it was a gross exaggeration of the severity of the matter. The truth is that now I'm sitting here a little embarrassed. I said things that didn't sound like me and weren't me. I felt the same hostility of my students and suddenly took on a whole other attitude.
For ten minutes today, I wasn't Marco Ramirez, the Art teacher. I was Tyrese. I was Austin and Cameron. I was the boys in Ms. Smith's 1st grade class.
...I was the negative force that hinders these kids.
Official day of hire -- September 27, 2010
I'm actually at the end of my second week, which says a lot about the start of my tenure. To be honest, I don't feel like talking about what has happened during that time because something happened tonight that I did not expect to happen to me...
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Just waiting...
To bring you up to speed, here is an overview of the last two months:
1. Teach For America's Induction week for the South Louisiana region in Baton Rouge (06/06-06/11)
2. Monica, my cousin, gets married to David Khirallah (06/12)
3. INSTITUTE BEGINS (06/13)
4. Weekend in Memphis!!
5. INSTITUTE ENDS! (07/17)
6. Arrive back in San Antonio, leave to the Texas coast for Dad's birthday getaway (07/17)
7. Back to San Antonio (07/20)
8. Pack up and say good bye to S.A. (07/21)
9. Move to Baton Rouge with Mom (07/22)
10. More TFA orientation (07/24-08/01)
11. Hired, un-hired, re-hired, then un-hired by Rosenwald Elementary
12. Move in to 550 Pierce (our new home!) with Evan Nogay (W. VA), Aaron Massey (E. St. Louis/"the hood"), and Sean McGrath (Philly)
13. Interview & Wait
Listing off what happens in life really misses the essence of those moments, and it's what happens to be what happens between those moments or led up to them that ingrain those unforgettable memories. The moments that stick out the most from this summer and are appropriate to post online take place between #3-#5.
Question you might ask yourself: "What is Institute?" Institute is a five-week training program for new Teach For America corps members to learn every facet of the classroom culture and how to teach. There are multiple Institutes held every summer across the U.S. where new corps members (CMs) work in the classroom and basically learn how to be a teacher. Institute placements go according to your region (I'm in South Louisiana). TFA placed Charlotte, North Carolina, Mississippi Delta, Alabama, Houston, and South Louisiana regions in the Mississippi Delta for the summer because that is an area which parallels the regions we will actually be teaching. Those regions all rank towards the bottom of the educational totem pole and have similar demographics. With political correctness, I'd say this is a rural area faced with economic hardship and a definite need for a new wave of energetic teachers ready to improve the educational system. Because this is my blog and I say whatever I want, looking out my car window while driving down the highway I would ask myself, "What year is it here?" and "Who the f*** would ever want to live here?"
When Institute began, the new TFA corps members were told that the layout of our training would consist of teacher observation and then some application of our new teaching skills. Before Institute training began, we are given Pre-Readings meant to help us prepare for situations we need to be ready to handle. On arrival day, TFA seemed to be on their game with preparation, having the living situation fully prepped, meals included, an ample supply of educational materials at full access, and full schedules for our entire five-week teaching boot camp. Overall, moving to Cleveland, MS and transitioning back to the dorm life at Delta State University was made easy by TFA.
After a few days of settling, last minute preparation for our first days, some curriculum sessions to help us plan our lessons, and opportunities to meet other corps members in other regions, we walked into our first days with a fun surprise from TFA. There was no teacher observation. No relief from experience teachers to help you manage your class. Instead, we were thrown into the lions' den. From the first day on, this is what our days looked like:
4:15am -- Wake up
4:50am -- Out the door in professional dress
5:00am -- Dining hall opens, I inhale breakfast, and pack lunch
5:23am -- On the bus
5:30am -- Bus leaves
6:20am -- Arrive at Manning Elementary
6:30-7:30am -- Prep classroom
7:30-8:00am -- Students trickle into class
8:00-10:30am -- Reading block OR Curriculum sessions
10:30am-12:45pm -- Math block OR Curriculum sessions
12:45pm -- Dismissal
1:00-3:00pm -- Curriculum session
3:15-4:15pm -- Work time
4:15-5:15pm -- Bus back to Delta State Univ.
5:15-6:00pm -- Dinner
6:00-12:00pm -- Prep for next day
...Rinse and repeat.
The next question you might be asking is, "What are Curriculum sessions?" These are lectures given by TFA administrators and former corps members about every facet of teaching. They instruct us on the culture and environment of the classroom, how to lesson plan for math and reading, how to manage a classroom, how to invest our students, how to manage behavior with positive recognition and proper correction, and how to address certain cultural differences unique within our regions. Institute was split between these sessions where we learned about how to be a great teacher and then applied the new skills to our classroom.
A third question you might be wondering is, "Why did it take you so long to prepare for the next day's lessons?" Transitioning from the academic thought to an elementary mindset took me longer than several, which makes teaching simple concepts difficult because they need to be "student-friendly". For the first two weeks, dumbing down lessons was my biggest challenge, which led to bad execution. Teaching a student how to identify the pattern in 24,20,16,__,__ might seem simple, but when students don't understand how to count backwards, the lesson faces a serious challenge. Instances like these were common, but they reflect the achievement gap that I had only read about in readings. Seeing it in person was different. It made planning a tedious process that I slaved over because I had to be ready for any curve balls thrown my way.
In the first two weeks, my failed lessons led to crying, disruption, students under tables, yelling, lost tempers, increased anxiety, lost sleep, and worst of all -- the feeling of utter failure. In one instance, anxiety, frustration and exhaustion all peaked at once into a burst of tears. Reconsideration even crossed my mind.
After those grueling two weeks, I got better though. My body became accustomed to the three hours of sleep per night. My daily schedules had been planned out to every 15 minutes in order for me to optimize every waking moment. Coffee became my new best friend and my students became my cubs -- the little guys I cared about more than anything. With time, my skills grew and confidence in teaching grew even faster. Past the gauntlet, I started to understand the tendencies, strengths, and weaknesses of every student. My procedures in class became more explicit as I learned more how much students need to know exactly what to do at every moment of the day. With trial and painful error, it started to come together.
After investing so much into my students and fighting through the storm of Institute, I grew to love them and knew them like the back of my hand. Jemarcus Young could not stay in one spot for the life of him! When Nigel's mom didn't give him his ADHD meds, the boy could not behave if he tried. Devonte' was the runt of the class, but he sure was the bravest. George Conaway...a little pain in the ass sometimes, but I have to admit that kid cracked me up. And Amari Malone, the boy who spent the first two weeks either crying, under his desk, or both. Despite their moments, I can never forget their faces. As for Xavier, Jahiem, Markeva, Markyla, and Gary Coleman (haha!), they were the students I could rely on for positive recognition to bring the class back to order (e.g. "Thank you Jahiem for being in perfect Active Listening Position. O Markeva has her eyes on me. Xavier is ready to learn. Jemarcus, leave the cricket alone and sit down!"). But regardless of how well or badly they acted at times, every one of them showed incredible potential.
It's crazy how looking back not too long ago, I was on course to be working alongside my friends from college who are all working at marketing firms, corporate powerhouses, dot coms, and reputable businesses in New York City and Boston, and spend their weekends at promotional events glad handing clients and potential new clients. Instead, I'm here in Baton Rouge, stuck on #13 of my summer list. Am I regretful?...Not the least. But I am dying to have a classroom!
Several corps members quit during Institute to take jobs elsewhere. At those moments, I cannot help but think about the kids that are abandoned by people who are supposed to help them grow. All modesty aside for a moment, the students need me -- they need good, strong teachers. Sure, I can quit at any time to work at a marketing firm that would pay better, but I'd be leaving kids who need someone who can show them how to live and think in order to thrive in the future. That in itself makes #13 the most grueling. I miss the ridiculous shit some kids said. I can't wait to have those moments of panic where I'm not sure what the hell I'm doing. But most of all, I can't wait for those 'aha' moments when students have an expression that shows a light bulb just lit up. I can't wait to show kids what they're made of.
I can't wait for #14.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
The Slow Climb
Do you remember your first roller coaster ride? After seemingly hours of waiting in line you rush to the front row seat where you've heard it's the best. Everyone waits as the other cart makes its round and talks about the upcoming ride, and you-the rookie-cannot help but feel the nerves kicking in. The cart starts moving after minutes of anticipation and the moment has finally come. In front of you now is nothing but a long and drawn out climb with an angle so steep you feel your feet dangling behind you. Every clank you hear as you rise elevates your heart rate to the point where you can't even sit still. You're approaching the climax when suddenly it seems like time slows down. You hit the peak and for one instant, time freezes. You take a split second to look all directions and see the beauty of the horizon for miles.
Finally, the hardest part of the ride.
For the past 22 years of my life, I have been a student. I was always the kid in the center or towards the back of the classroom outside of the "Miss"'s proximity, waiting for those precious moments when the teacher would turn his or her back towards the chalkboard to shoot spit balls at my friends. I was the average high school student texting during class while casually listening to the teacher lecture just to convince myself that I was making the most of my time between 8:30am and 3:15pm. School to me used to be the chunk of my day I worked hard at partially because I was genuinely engaged in what was taught, but also for the time I counted down until I could to play sports and spend with friends.
Now I'm days away from beginning my training at the Delta Institute for Teach For America and reality is setting in. Just two months ago, I was sitting in a desk endlessly jotting down notes as the professor lectured and sparked critical thinking and engaged discussions. Now, I'll the one standing at the front of the class. My final year of college at Boston University, I lived in a fraternity house (Chi Phi), where I walked home every night exhausted from studying and where I left the next morning exhausted because of the night before. Now, I'm the disciplinarian.
In just two months, I'm going to be responsible for the development of a classroom of children I have never seen in my life. A room full of young minds who can smell fear. The students that TFA corps members teach are primarily two to three years behind the national average and attend schools within low-income city districts. As an elementary special education teacher, I will have this challenge paired up with various behavioral and learning disabilities. So as far as I know, I could have a third grader with chronic misconduct, frequent absences, and the reading ability of a kindergartner, AND, am expected to bring that student up to national expectations, if not exceed that by the end of the school year.
Did I mention I've never taught a classroom of children before? The closest I came to that was babysitting my cousins a few times. To this day, I still don't even abide by the five-second rule (with valid reason of course). Now all I can think about is Arnold Schwarzenegger with a roaring scream as a he runs away in fright from a mob of five-year-olds in Kindergarten Cop.
When people ask what I'll be doing, I casually talk about Teach For America and the upcoming next two years in Baton Rouge, but I have yet to really open up about how I feel about all this. Honestly, this rapid transition is overwhelming. I am nervous and flat out scared. There has never been a situation that I couldn't handle, but this is my toughest test yet. Since that momentous day I received my acceptance letter into Teach For America, I have without doubt been excited about this opportunity. But going from 22-year student to elementary teacher in a span of three months can make any Goliath wail uncontrollably.
During my time at Boston University, the most valuable lesson gained was the vitality of education and knowledge. In comparison to the education system in Texas, Boston by far outweighs the Lone Star State. Sure Texas will always represent the mecca of football and athleticism, but had I been raised in an environment closely focused on academia, had I known the incredible potential one can hatch from learning, life could be different now. Perhaps it could be better.
I was blessed to have parents who have persevered to give me everything I needed and pushed me to excel in all areas of life. I've been spoiled with a healthy upbringing, which is why we should show the next generation their own potential. The name of the organization accurately reflects what it is achieving. It is not one classroom of kids. We are in fact teaching FOR America. My parents have demonstrated hard work in providing for our family, and they'll always be role models going forward. But in order for others to join this American mission, someone has to step up and pass on the torch. And when more people start to notice, I think more lives can be changed.
But before all that, I still have to get past the first big drop.
Finally, the hardest part of the ride.
For the past 22 years of my life, I have been a student. I was always the kid in the center or towards the back of the classroom outside of the "Miss"'s proximity, waiting for those precious moments when the teacher would turn his or her back towards the chalkboard to shoot spit balls at my friends. I was the average high school student texting during class while casually listening to the teacher lecture just to convince myself that I was making the most of my time between 8:30am and 3:15pm. School to me used to be the chunk of my day I worked hard at partially because I was genuinely engaged in what was taught, but also for the time I counted down until I could to play sports and spend with friends.
Now I'm days away from beginning my training at the Delta Institute for Teach For America and reality is setting in. Just two months ago, I was sitting in a desk endlessly jotting down notes as the professor lectured and sparked critical thinking and engaged discussions. Now, I'll the one standing at the front of the class. My final year of college at Boston University, I lived in a fraternity house (Chi Phi), where I walked home every night exhausted from studying and where I left the next morning exhausted because of the night before. Now, I'm the disciplinarian.
In just two months, I'm going to be responsible for the development of a classroom of children I have never seen in my life. A room full of young minds who can smell fear. The students that TFA corps members teach are primarily two to three years behind the national average and attend schools within low-income city districts. As an elementary special education teacher, I will have this challenge paired up with various behavioral and learning disabilities. So as far as I know, I could have a third grader with chronic misconduct, frequent absences, and the reading ability of a kindergartner, AND, am expected to bring that student up to national expectations, if not exceed that by the end of the school year.
Did I mention I've never taught a classroom of children before? The closest I came to that was babysitting my cousins a few times. To this day, I still don't even abide by the five-second rule (with valid reason of course). Now all I can think about is Arnold Schwarzenegger with a roaring scream as a he runs away in fright from a mob of five-year-olds in Kindergarten Cop.
When people ask what I'll be doing, I casually talk about Teach For America and the upcoming next two years in Baton Rouge, but I have yet to really open up about how I feel about all this. Honestly, this rapid transition is overwhelming. I am nervous and flat out scared. There has never been a situation that I couldn't handle, but this is my toughest test yet. Since that momentous day I received my acceptance letter into Teach For America, I have without doubt been excited about this opportunity. But going from 22-year student to elementary teacher in a span of three months can make any Goliath wail uncontrollably.
During my time at Boston University, the most valuable lesson gained was the vitality of education and knowledge. In comparison to the education system in Texas, Boston by far outweighs the Lone Star State. Sure Texas will always represent the mecca of football and athleticism, but had I been raised in an environment closely focused on academia, had I known the incredible potential one can hatch from learning, life could be different now. Perhaps it could be better.
I was blessed to have parents who have persevered to give me everything I needed and pushed me to excel in all areas of life. I've been spoiled with a healthy upbringing, which is why we should show the next generation their own potential. The name of the organization accurately reflects what it is achieving. It is not one classroom of kids. We are in fact teaching FOR America. My parents have demonstrated hard work in providing for our family, and they'll always be role models going forward. But in order for others to join this American mission, someone has to step up and pass on the torch. And when more people start to notice, I think more lives can be changed.
But before all that, I still have to get past the first big drop.
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