What defines a good teacher? What are those special qualities that separate the effective from ineffective, the highly effective from the developing? In the current educational climate, a strong, effective teacher is defined as an individual who can raise standardized test scores, who can produce adequate yearly growth, whose administrator can neatly check boxes on a rubric when observing. This admirable educator would not excuse poverty, disability, or language barriers, but instead would rise above, propelling such disadvantaged populations toward infinite achievement, achievement defined by statistics. According to the above definition, I am not an effective teacher, nor even a mediocre teacher. New York State would label me ineffective, and should this occur two years consecutively, I would be dismissed. Despite my fifteen years of educational experience spanning private, urban, and suburban districts, educating gifted, learning disabled, average, and alternatively placed subgroups, despite hundreds of hours of professional development in which I both participated and facilitated, I am ineffective. The students who I teach will not meet standard on a standardized test because they are not standard students; they are exceptional, exceptional in ways too rich and prolific to share within this space.
Given this climate, why would I ever teach? Why would I risk jeopardizing my livelihood for a career currently under insatiable public scrutiny and attack? Like so many educators across the nation, and unlike many careers available in the twenty-first century, I teach for a purpose and fulfillment greater than monetary reimbursement. I teach for these exceptional students, the children lost in battle between effective and ineffective, the children no congressman, wealthy entrepreneur, or policy maker considers. "Patrick" came to my classroom a forlorn seventh grader, who at thirteen years old recognized only a handful of kindergarten and first grade level sight words. He felt dejected, hopeless, and stupid. In an age of information, he could not access the world surrounding him, and due to this, his social interactions, classroom affect, and self-concept were profoundly damaged. Patrick entered seventh grade having been the product of multiple instructional methods and programs. Many teachers wholeheartedly attempted to help him read but were limited by top-down regulations; administrators, fearful for their jobs, could only see a severely reading disabled boy, consequently focusing instructional efforts elsewhere. Every year interventions for Patrick changed, compounding his confusion of alphabetic principle. Every year he was passed along. He was never the student on the cusp of passing the annual state assessment; he was always the student forgotten, dispossessed of a glimmer of proficiency.
This is the student for whom I teach, for whom so many of us teach. To me, Patrick is not a 4, 3, 2, or 1. He is not chasing the next cut score. He is not meeting, exceeding, or approaching standard on any category or subtest of New York State. He is simply Patrick, a boy who loves to scooter and to joke around, a boy who, like so many others, just happens to struggle with reading, craving that which comes so easily to many others. He is a boy who just doesn’t fit neatly onto a bar graph. Earlier this past November, after fourteen months of working together, Patrick emerged a butterfly. It is a moment forever penned into my mind. With minimal assistance, comprehending every word, Patrick stretched his wings and read an entire page of text, tears in his eyes (and mine), pausing periodically to whisper, "I'm scared... I can't believe it... I'm doing it, myself." And he was doing it himself. In that moment, all those months of hard work collided, and he transformed. In that moment, Patrick, the boy who couldn't read, became a reader. Eight months following Patrick's transformation, we continue our work together. He can now read chapter books, recognize complex consonants and vowel digraphs, and read with intonation and phrasing; however, as an incoming ninth grader, he reads independently at only a second grade level. To any teacher, this progress is profound; to New York State, this progress is not progress at all. Millions of teachers across this nation are not just good, but exceptional. Millions believe that student progress is not just possible, but inevitable. We know that progress cannot be narrowly defined or neatly charted on a graph or within a formula. We know what good teaching looks like and feels like. Education is a human endeavor, one that requires strong interpersonal, creative, and emotional skills. To remove humanity from teaching and to replace it with data, scripts, and formulas is to strip education of its foundation. In this climate, "highly effective" ceases to have meaning for students, especially for the Patricks, lost in the bubbles of a test. We owe it to our children and to our future, to allow humanity back into the equation.
It was the last week of first grade. The kiddos had come in for breakfast, just like they had done for the last 180ish days. Today, however, was not shaping up to be a normal day. As I came back into the room from dealing with a student on top of the cubbies, I noticed Sam. Sam was sitting in the cooler bag that breakfast was delivered in. She was using the straps to move herself in the bag; she was hopping around the classroom this way. She was greeting each of her classmates as they ate breakfast. While I stood there watching, trying not to laugh, the students responded kindly to Sam. Each one greeted her in return, like this was a completely normal way to start their day. My co-teacher and I managed to corral her and remove her from the bag. I was anticipating a meltdown at extraction, however, Sam just went on her way. She got herself a breakfast and sat down to eat. Later that day, Sam was at it again. We ate lunch as a family in the classroom every day. During lunch, the students watched a movie to relax. On this day, Sam was wearing a cat ear headband, and took that as her cue to become a cat. She sat through lunch licking her “paw” and meowing at the class. She laughed and giggled the whole time. Again, no one seemed to be surprised or phased by this. It was just another day with Sam. My one take away from this day with Sam is that I should not take life, or myself, too seriously. Sometimes, you just have to have some fun.
I love how you just accepted Sam as she is, silliness, giggles, and all. I wonder if she was anxious, knowing that summer was approaching and she would have to leave the safety of her first grade family.
One afternoon when the students were packing up, one student was struggling to carry her backpack complaining that it was heavy. When we decided to clean out this students backpack we were very surprised with our findings… Inside this backpack was a selection of bananas, teacher pens, and 5 or so second grade workbooks. There were many times throughout the day when this student would “wander” into the cluster but before now we had never really thought much about what and or why she was going to her cubby so often. After finding all these treasures we decided to start checking her backpack regularly. Every afternoon I made sure to sneak into the cluster and clean out this young ladies bag. Each day was filled with new surprises. Even being aware of what this student was doing and having teachers keep an eye on her didn’t stop the snatching.
I spent most of the hip hop class worrying that the academic part was going by the wayside. By academic I mean the “stuff” about hip hop. Students just wanted to do hip hop. I felt like they resisted any time we spent talking about the history of hip hop, origins in West Africa (“why are we in Africa?”). Every once in a while, though, a nugget would slip through. I would overhear them talking about female rappers (“I didn’t know there were any female rappers back in the day.”). But one young woman really had me stumped. I figured she barely tolerated my forays into more academic discussions based on the shade she threw my way. I couldn’t have been more wrong. At the last dress rehearsal for our final performance, our one rapper said for the tenth time he was quitting. This young woman turned to me and said, “But Miss, then we won’t have all five elements.” I could barely speak. I had completely misread this young woman. It was a crucial realization for me as a teacher. It made me wonder how many other teachers thought as I did – that she wasn’t listening and didn’t care. I’m so grateful she let me know she knew. And her performance was jaw dropping. From now on I plan to start with assuming genius and working to set it free.
I teach a 5th/6th grade 12:1:3 Autism Spectrum Disorder class. The students are considered high functioning, but all possess language and social delays. This spring we performed a reader’s theatre about Jackie Robinson. The script included some realistic scenes of the verbal abuse that Jackie endured during his playing days. After we performed these scenes the students commented that they felt afraid when they were reading and hearing some of the language that was directed toward Jackie from opposing teams and fans. Taking this approach to text generated much more discussion than traditional reading. I also found that their writing about this reading was far more interesting and insightful than what was generally produced by the students.
Every year, as a part of our rituals and routines, we practice the procedures for emergency drills. Last year, my class (affectionately called “The 200 Group”) consisted of 9 boys and 3 girls, all of whom were determined to assert their dominance and strength. Before we practiced the lockdown drill, I gave the students the rationale and the procedure, specifying the who, where, when, how, and the why. Then it was time to practice. When I called out, “Lockdown!” the students quickly got into position and sat quietly as I whispered further instructions to them. I reminded them that we could make no noise or we could be discovered. I impressed upon them the importance of staying out of sight. We agreed that we would not react if someone knocked at the door or called on the telephone. The students nodded their understanding, and a couple of them raised their hands to ask questions. As I was telling them to save questions for after the drill, I noticed the biggest, toughest child crying silently. I quickly ended the drill. Before I could approach him to ask what was going on, other students had surrounded him and were consoling him. Boys and girls alike, they reassured him that this was just a drill and that he was okay. These were the same kids who were cursing each other out 30 minutes before. Once they recognized the needs of their classmate, all of their machismo melted into a compassion that gave me great hope for the year to come.
In my resource class, the last thing the students want to do is write; well it’s the second to last thing, math is the last thing. They often ask, why do I have to write in this class? I would like to respond with, Because it’s going to help you and because I said so, but I want the students to put some effort into it. I assure them that it’s a short activity that they might actually enjoy. One of the activities I have done with the kids more than once is Pass the Story. We create a scenario together and I start writing a few sentences. I then fold it down and pass it to the student next to me. They can’t see what I wrote but they have to write a few sentences related to the story, fold it down and pass it on. At the end, we read the story together and the students get a good laugh. They become more relaxed when I ask them to write. They are willing to do the free writes or pick a topic from a given list and write about it. There are fewer complaints, actually none and they just do it. I even give them feedback and ask questions. The other students even enjoy listening to their stories. It’s a huge victory for me.
Our administration did some writing assessment in the spring semester. One area that seemed weak in all seven sections was non- fiction writing. Administration decided it best to ask the BOCES writing person for help. It was decided /insisted that all 7 sections of first grade do the exact same nonfiction writing lessons. I did the modeled lessons as required, but only the required lessons. After the required lessons were over my kids did an animal study using Noodle tools (a program from the high school) I saw a writing project teacher do. We had a question about an animal and everyone had a role to research. Students researched using books, articles, and internet. Children worked in groups decided by interest. Each day children reported findings and we made note cards and noodle tools created an outline and organized the data as we reported each day. When we were done we had a mini research paper with a reference section and everything. The rest of the classes practiced the suggested graphic organizers 6 and 7 times. My kids did one, but we did about the same thing with the Noodle tools. All the children in the 7 sections of first grade did great. The pre and post test results were outstanding. Administration was thrilled. My colleagues reported that the children that were forced/encouraged to practice hated report writing. My kids loved nonfiction writing and continued throughout the school year. We did 2 animal reports together and then pairs or groups of kids who wanted to pursue did animals worked during writing workshop. Was it the technology or the ability to choose that made a difference? Children using technology within their everyday practices seemed to fare better than children forced to practice for a writing assessment.
I have been an Instructional Coach for 5 years, so I don’t have a classroom of my own. I made a connection to the article we read earlier about demonstrating writing to your students so that they see that you go through the same process as they do to produce writing. Quite a few years ago, I had a group of 2nd graders write about their favorite place. At the same time they were writing, I wrote about “My Front Porch” as my favorite place. Students were so amazed that I was writing, that they kept asking me to read my story to them. I told them that I would read mine after they completed their story. There was no difficulty getting them to finish writing. From that day on, I always wrote when my students did and they began to see themselves and their teacher as writers.
I was out on the playground engaging in my day to day recess responsibilities when the Physical Education teacher approached me with a confusing question. She had asked if I had figured out what child was trying to call me multiple times at school. I looked at her puzzled, not knowing anything about this phone call. It was quite bothersome knowing that a child was trying to reach me through the school phone. I had a whirlwind of emotions running through me. I had a difficult time concentrating the rest of the school day. I NEEDED to solve this mystery. I pondered for what seemed like forever, talking with other teachers and the office staff. No answers. As I was driving home I called one students mother. I was almost positive it was this child trying to reach me for he had called me before when I was home sick. No answer. My heart sank. Thankfully I remembered I had his grandmothers’ phone number as well. She answered! Finally I thought I would be able to breathe. After speaking with her for a bit I asked her if her grandson had tried to call me today. As she asked him I could sense that she was upset that he would do this. She asked twice and he said “No”. Grandma then shared that the night before his family had experienced a house fire and that is was he was not in school today. We hung up after asking her what I could do to help. Disbelief. I could not process the information I was just told. The next day this child came to school. I instantly knew he was the child that was trying to call me the previous day. He came up to me, gave me a hug and told me he tried calling to tell me what had happened to his house. My goodness, how could I think of this child as difficult, challenging? I now have a different outlook on student behaviors. There is ALWAYS a reason. I knew that I had built a relationship with this child. He trusted me and that is a great feeling.
“Knauss, what’s up? You have any snacks?” “I do, did you eat breakfast?” “Nah, ran for the bus…” “Granola bar? Vitamin Water?Almonds?” “Almonds!” “You have any apples today?” “Well, I was going to save them for later, but hurry up and I’ll give you one.”
“Miss, I gotta put you on…” “Later, because the bell is about to ring and you don’t want to get caught in the hall sweep…”
Hugs and a gentle reminder, “Hurry up get to Ms. C and check in. Have a great day and I know I’ll see you later, you can tell me about the weekend then. K?”
This exchange is pretty much what a morning is like in 365B. However, it is times ten - one after the other and it makes me warm inside when their fresh faces so eagerly want to tell me a story. Stories inside waiting to explode.
This has taken a lot of change on my part. I was once that strict, no nonsense teacher who got rattled when the slightest thing went wrong with a lesson plan. PFFFFTTT!!! to that!. However, it is much harder than it looks to the observing eye.
I know that Shaquanda secretly stashed her stuffed animals behind my desk, I know that Shay got drunk and stoned this weekend to forget some of the crap, I know that Danielle is deciding whether to stay at home or run away, and I know that all three of these girls want to graduate. Want the love, and not the hate. Want to know that each and every one of them matters. Matters to me. Matters to their parents. Matters to their friends.
All of this MUST happen before writing an introduction about Anna Shaw, the sufferigist whose excerpt happens to be on the practice Regents. Others may scoff and say this is a waste of time. To me, that is like saying that the kids are a waste of time. How long does it really take to say good morning and give a person (yes, kids are people!) a minute to settle in without being punitively scolded? Not long.
This shift has forced me to change my teaching, my relationships and the fulfillment of the role as a teacher. Look inside first instead of judging what might present itself on the outside. You may find a sweet poem buried under the thick wall built of “fuck you’s” and “you doin’ too much”. You just have to look..
It is November, and the applause in my classroom grew so loud that the assistant principal came to see if everything was okay. This loud applause is the sound of celebration in my English I ICOT classroom. You see, we analyze and discuss an inspirational quote daily as a “Do Now. “ In September, maybe the same two or three students shared every day, and I too would share out after students. It is November, and 90 percent of the class is sharing. I found myself making a new rule about the share out: the first five students to raise their hands can share out per day---- the bell work was spilling over into the time allotted for the day’s lesson. It is important to make a big deal about any learning that takes place in our classroom. The applause is the metaphoric you did a great job. This small thing of including applause increased student engagement, and quickly established a positive rapport with students. When I think back on how I introduced scholars to responding to quotes, I had to teach, re-teach, and re-teach. That did not work. I provided sentence starters and modeled how to use various methods to respond. Those ideas did not work. I then decided to award extra points for participation. That did not work. Desperate, I decided to add in a “turn and talk” before responding. Needless to say, my attempt to incorporate writing daily as bell work was not as successful as I had hoped. And then one day, a scholar shared a response that was articulate and insightful, I applauded and the class joined in. That student then raised their hand daily to receive that praise again. Consequently, we applauded every scholar who shared out from that day forward. By December, we had mastered analyzing quotes, practicing presentation, and increased student engagement, and therefore moved on to learn new concepts that would enhance their writing skills.
There are so many students that come into my classroom that make my class as unique as any other classroom. My first day with my students is usually just getting to know them and they learn about me. There was one student who just cursed the entire period. Since I did not know them well I asked what is his last name so I could call home to learn the why he does what he does since he chose to not tell me. I was sternly told I am not giving you my name with some cursing. I said ok thanks and went on with class.
As the year went on, this student began to warm up to me, in that he actually began to participate. I did not call him out nor did I yell at him based on the first day. Then a couple weeks later he asked to come up for lunch, just us. I figured that this was a small step in building a connection. The first thing he said to me upon entering my room was I have to apologize for cursing at you for that last few weeks. I looked up and said, thank you. We had a talk about the why and I learned so much about him and his family. There were so many external factors that really explained the why that there was no reason to ask any longer. The bottom line was he needed to believe that he can do the work and that I cared. Grades were huge for him as he wanted the A not a C. He came up to lunch for the rest of the year and it was us and a few others. There were times that he would ask that it be just us and I knew that he needed that time. I would help him with all his work at lunch and to see the character change in him was amazing. He was no longer the student that would curse me out, he was a student that wants the good grades. Every day he would ask me to look up all his grades and write them down so he could show his family. By the middle of the year he didn’t need much help with the work but he needed the time to be himself, which is what my room and I were helping him achieve. The confidence he achieved and the pride he showed in school was huge when you think about the constant cursing he did in the beginning of the year. The growth he had in his social emotional area was so significant that he made on honor roll by the end of the year.
As a reading teacher, I push in to classrooms at several grade levels and work with many students throughout each day. Each morning, I greet students at the front door as they enter school and head to breakfast. I am often greeted with hugs and smiles, stories about what happened at home that morning, or questions about what would be happening at school that day. But there are some students who consistently come in to school in a different mood… feeling tired, grumpy or upset. One morning, a first grader named Eden who often greeted me with “I’m still tired…. I don’t want to be here” walked in with a coy smile on her face. She was carrying her backpack with great care and I could sense the excitement bubbling up as she moved closer and closer to her classroom. I stopped and wondered… “Is there something special going on in first grade this morning? Perhaps a special project, a party, someone’s birthday?” I couldn’t recall anything out of the ordinary, but was still quite curious about the change in her demeanor as I entered her classroom to work with my group that morning. As soon as I stepped foot in the door, she came skipping over to me. “Today is a special day!” she announced. “I can tell!” I replied. “I loved to see your smile as you walked in this morning!” “Well…don’t ya wanna know why today is special?” she inquired. “Of course… what makes today so special?” “I’ll give you two hints. I love my cat. And my cat loves school.” “Umm… ,“ I looked around, feeling a bit confused. “Okay… I’m not sure what you’re getting at. Tell me more.” “Here, just come here,” she said impatiently. At this point, she called over one of her classroom teachers and brought us to her cubby. She carefully unzipped her backpack to reveal two furry ears and big green eyes staring up at us. “I think she snuck in. I kind of forgot she was in there. But now she’s at school with me! Isn’t that awesome!?” she said with a toothy grin.
I was so excited to have my very first classroom last year. I was told that this particular class had a lot of turnover, and I would be lucky teacher #4. I thought to myself that these students couldn’t be that bad, and that I was up for the challenge. I started googling all kinds of fun Pinterest worthy lessons, and activities, bought all kinds of fun decorations, and I was ready. I thought I was ready. I walked into class on my first day March 1, and was stunned by what I encountered throughout the day. I had never seen such a lack of respect, both ways for students and teachers, such a lack of resources, and such a feeling of hopelessness. I left each day at first feeling like I was put here for a reason I just had to stick it out and work hard. Then my feelings shifted to looking for the root cause, yes some of the students were poor, and yes there are a lot of socio-economic issues, but every district has them. My students wanted to learn but it seemed like everyone had given up on them, and the crutch was always related to poverty and lack of parental involvement. My students were more than capable of reaching well beyond the low expectations that were set for them. They just needed some encouragement, guidance, and someone to believe in them. In the short time that I taught last year, my students walked away knowing that I believed in them. Sometimes this was all they needed to turn things around.
I watched the brightest student in my class draw blood from the cheek of one of his classmates. It startled and scared me. I didn’t see it coming. I was afraid I couldn’t stop it in time and that the smaller student would be more injured by the time I could get across the room. I couldn’t prevent the damage that I saw happening before my eyes. At this point I could only hope to stop it before it got worse. Only three blows had landed but it was enough to see blood on the fist and blood on the face. While my heart raced in my chest I pulled my beautiful and brilliant student away from, and off of, the smaller child. He wasn’t calming down and still trying to inflict more damage. Reaching into my karate training, that I hoped I would never have to use, I strong armed the questioning and quick to answer young main order to keep him from further harming another or myself in his rage. I had few words as I escorted him down the hall to the principal’s office. I was still in shock and still my body had managed to respond to the situation. I was seeing myself outside of my body dealing with this unbeautiful situation that had only harsh actions and words without any option for reason or debate. He was able to calm his fist and find his words but not before scars were delivered to his hands, an innocent cheek, and the unsuspecting eyes and soul of his teacher. What must you see at home? How many times have you been on the other end of the fist? How can that much rage live in a body so small? I’m here to teach you to read and write but your needs go much further. How can I become the teacher you need?
After teaching a lesson about writing a persuasive letter or speech, my students were able to see the connection between my writing that I had shared with them and my everyday values. I had written a speech and showed them a powerful video about why it is important to keep our school and the environment clean. My students saw this part of my personality every day because I would point out the things I felt strongly about, such as using a reusable water bottle made from sustainable resources and recycling everything possible. Well, we were walking back from specials that very afternoon when we saw blue gunk sticking to the floor from a spilled drink of some sort. My students all came into the classroom talking about how we needed to clean it up to show pride in our school and how important this place really is. Students were all begging to be a part of the clean-up, even though it really only required two or three. I picked three students who all helped scrub the floor with me the best that we could (boy does that blue dye really stain). From that point on, my students always volunteered to help clean up when they saw a need and made it a point to recycle when they could… and they were excited to write a persuasive letter about something they felt strongly about.
This is a final assignment that one of my ESL student wrote. She took her very first MCC course (Monroe Community College) by being a high school student. This college class impacted her future vision and changed her career plans. She thought that college is not for her,but after taking this particular course she decided to go to medical profession.
The question was how to be successful with your classes and manage your time.
If I felt that I am behind in my class, I would contact my professor and ask for her permission to complete my missing assignments.I will consider to get tutoring support in the MCC library. I will give most of my free time to caught up on my late work over break. I will ask my professor for help if I had questions regarding my assignments. I will use every opportunity to improve my situation and would monitor my schedule to not to ended up in that position again. I will make a list of all my missing work and make a plan so I can finish it on time. I will try to submit my current work on time or before due date, that will allow me to work on assignments I need to caught up. I will break my time into chunks where I can spend more time on heavy assignments and leave less time to easy ones. That will help me to manage my time and don't worry about being late. I will plan to caught up in few days so I can do my other regular work on time without any disturbances. I would frequently check my completed assignments folder in blackboard that help me to stay on schedule. I will ask my classmates who were taking notes during the lesson to share with me. This way we can help one another to accomplish our goals in course assignments. I will try to not forget to relax during the break, that will help me with recouping some energy to be successful student and be on time with my assignments.
I love the school that I work at for many reasons, but I especially appreciate the diversity and sense of community. This really came to light with one reading group that I was working with during my first year at the school. This particular group had five students. Four students were in second grade and one was in third. Each student had a different first language- Nepali, Spanish, Arabic, Somali and English. I had never really encountered such diversity in such a small group. All of these students could speak English, too but I knew they were coming from very different linguistic and cultural backgrounds. It seemed like it would be a challenge to help them all become proficient readers in English. Luckily, our school had a family literacy program at the time, and a grandmother of one of my students attended the class each morning. As she learned English, part of her assignment was to join her grandson in class for an hour each day. Lucky for me… that hour included my reading group! I had another adult with us, who was able to learn with us and help translate more complex concepts into Spanish for her grandson. In addition, our parent liaison, who speaks Nepali was able to join our group each day in order to support my student from Nepal. While I was so excited to have the additional support but the biggest benefit came from the fact that those adults were not there just to support or help. They were learning too, and as they were able to articulate points of confusion they encountered within my lessons, I was able to learn more about their perspectives and the perspectives of my students. It became my favorite half hour of the day, because it truly felt like we were all learning together. Our lessons and discussions became so much richer, as we discussed cognates, new vocabulary, and different experiences.
Teachers are full of stories. Stories that we often share with each other in the hallways, as we shuffle students into class, during our planning periods, or even over a drink at happy hour. As I think about my last 15 years as a teacher, how do I pick just one story to share? Do I pick a story that will create a chuckle, one that will bring tears to your eyes or one that will make you think, how do we do this job or maybe even say, “this is why I became a teacher”!?!? In actuality, I think it is all these stories that make our classrooms. One day you may peak in my room and see students engaged in group work, but the very next day may entail students standing up and shouting at each other, while I stand in the middle trying to calm them down. I’m quickly debating in my head if I should call for help. Another day may entail discussing a topic on a book that led to a heated discussion/debate and although we may have gotten a bit off topic I let it go because I can tell the students want to be heard. They connect their life experiences and what is going on in the world. They are awakening me to their life and experiences. I have become the student. The best stories entail the students that come back just to see you, find you on Facebook & send you a message or that you accidently run into while at the store. Instead of ignoring you (there’s a good chance you don’t recognize them) they make a point to come up to you and chat. This past year I was fortunate to have a handful of encounters with past students. I needed them more than ever. These connections revitalize and bring meaning to what I do.
What defines a good teacher? What are those special qualities that separate the effective from ineffective, the highly effective from the developing? In the current educational climate, a strong, effective teacher is defined as an individual who can raise standardized test scores, who can produce adequate yearly growth, whose administrator can neatly check boxes on a rubric when observing. This admirable educator would not excuse poverty, disability, or language barriers, but instead would rise above, propelling such disadvantaged populations toward infinite achievement, achievement defined by statistics. According to the above definition, I am not an effective teacher, nor even a mediocre teacher. New York State would label me ineffective, and should this occur two years consecutively, I would be dismissed. Despite my fifteen years of educational experience spanning private, urban, and suburban districts, educating gifted, learning disabled, average, and alternatively placed subgroups, despite hundreds of hours of professional development in which I both participated and facilitated, I am ineffective. The students who I teach will not meet standard on a standardized test because they are not standard students; they are exceptional, exceptional in ways too rich and prolific to share within this space.
ReplyDeleteThis is a story about my student Martin.
ReplyDeleteGiven this climate, why would I ever teach? Why would I risk jeopardizing my livelihood for a career currently under insatiable public scrutiny and attack? Like so many educators across the nation, and unlike many careers available in the twenty-first century, I teach for a purpose and fulfillment greater than monetary reimbursement. I teach for these exceptional students, the children lost in battle between effective and ineffective, the children no congressman, wealthy entrepreneur, or policy maker considers. "Patrick" came to my classroom a forlorn seventh grader, who at thirteen years old recognized only a handful of kindergarten and first grade level sight words. He felt dejected, hopeless, and stupid. In an age of information, he could not access the world surrounding him, and due to this, his social interactions, classroom affect, and self-concept were profoundly damaged. Patrick entered seventh grade having been the product of multiple instructional methods and programs. Many teachers wholeheartedly attempted to help him read but were limited by top-down regulations; administrators, fearful for their jobs, could only see a severely reading disabled boy, consequently focusing instructional efforts elsewhere. Every year interventions for Patrick changed, compounding his confusion of alphabetic principle. Every year he was passed along. He was never the student on the cusp of passing the annual state assessment; he was always the student forgotten, dispossessed of a glimmer of proficiency.
ReplyDeleteIt is so powerful to think of him in an Information Age not being able to access that information. This is such a powerful story.
DeleteThis is the student for whom I teach, for whom so many of us teach. To me, Patrick is not a 4, 3, 2, or 1. He is not chasing the next cut score. He is not meeting, exceeding, or approaching standard on any category or subtest of New York State. He is simply Patrick, a boy who loves to scooter and to joke around, a boy who, like so many others, just happens to struggle with reading, craving that which comes so easily to many others. He is a boy who just doesn’t fit neatly onto a bar graph. Earlier this past November, after fourteen months of working together, Patrick emerged a butterfly. It is a moment forever penned into my mind. With minimal assistance, comprehending every word, Patrick stretched his wings and read an entire page of text, tears in his eyes (and mine), pausing periodically to whisper, "I'm scared... I can't believe it... I'm doing it, myself." And he was doing it himself. In that moment, all those months of hard work collided, and he transformed. In that moment, Patrick, the boy who couldn't read, became a reader. Eight months following Patrick's transformation, we continue our work together. He can now read chapter books, recognize complex consonants and vowel digraphs, and read with intonation and phrasing; however, as an incoming ninth grader, he reads independently at only a second grade level. To any teacher, this progress is profound; to New York State, this progress is not progress at all. Millions of teachers across this nation are not just good, but exceptional. Millions believe that student progress is not just possible, but inevitable. We know that progress cannot be narrowly defined or neatly charted on a graph or within a formula. We know what good teaching looks like and feels like. Education is a human endeavor, one that requires strong interpersonal, creative, and emotional skills. To remove humanity from teaching and to replace it with data, scripts, and formulas is to strip education of its foundation. In this climate, "highly effective" ceases to have meaning for students, especially for the Patricks, lost in the bubbles of a test. We owe it to our children and to our future, to allow humanity back into the equation.
ReplyDeleteIt was the last week of first grade. The kiddos had come in for breakfast, just like they had done for the last 180ish days. Today, however, was not shaping up to be a normal day. As I came back into the room from dealing with a student on top of the cubbies, I noticed Sam. Sam was sitting in the cooler bag that breakfast was delivered in. She was using the straps to move herself in the bag; she was hopping around the classroom this way. She was greeting each of her classmates as they ate breakfast. While I stood there watching, trying not to laugh, the students responded kindly to Sam. Each one greeted her in return, like this was a completely normal way to start their day. My co-teacher and I managed to corral her and remove her from the bag. I was anticipating a meltdown at extraction, however, Sam just went on her way. She got herself a breakfast and sat down to eat.
ReplyDeleteLater that day, Sam was at it again. We ate lunch as a family in the classroom every day. During lunch, the students watched a movie to relax. On this day, Sam was wearing a cat ear headband, and took that as her cue to become a cat. She sat through lunch licking her “paw” and meowing at the class. She laughed and giggled the whole time. Again, no one seemed to be surprised or phased by this. It was just another day with Sam.
My one take away from this day with Sam is that I should not take life, or myself, too seriously. Sometimes, you just have to have some fun.
I love how you just accepted Sam as she is, silliness, giggles, and all. I wonder if she was anxious, knowing that summer was approaching and she would have to leave the safety of her first grade family.
DeleteOne afternoon when the students were packing up, one student was struggling to carry her backpack complaining that it was heavy. When we decided to clean out this students backpack we were very surprised with our findings… Inside this backpack was a selection of bananas, teacher pens, and 5 or so second grade workbooks. There were many times throughout the day when this student would “wander” into the cluster but before now we had never really thought much about what and or why she was going to her cubby so often. After finding all these treasures we decided to start checking her backpack regularly. Every afternoon I made sure to sneak into the cluster and clean out this young ladies bag. Each day was filled with new surprises. Even being aware of what this student was doing and having teachers keep an eye on her didn’t stop the snatching.
ReplyDeleteDid you ever find out what was going on with her? I wonder why she did this?
DeleteRemember when she had D's toys in her backpack, and how surprised we were that he didn't get upset when he found out??
DeleteI spent most of the hip hop class worrying that the academic part was going by the wayside. By academic I mean the “stuff” about hip hop. Students just wanted to do hip hop. I felt like they resisted any time we spent talking about the history of hip hop, origins in West Africa (“why are we in Africa?”). Every once in a while, though, a nugget would slip through. I would overhear them talking about female rappers (“I didn’t know there were any female rappers back in the day.”). But one young woman really had me stumped. I figured she barely tolerated my forays into more academic discussions based on the shade she threw my way. I couldn’t have been more wrong. At the last dress rehearsal for our final performance, our one rapper said for the tenth time he was quitting. This young woman turned to me and said, “But Miss, then we won’t have all five elements.” I could barely speak. I had completely misread this young woman. It was a crucial realization for me as a teacher. It made me wonder how many other teachers thought as I did – that she wasn’t listening and didn’t care. I’m so grateful she let me know she knew. And her performance was jaw dropping. From now on I plan to start with assuming genius and working to set it free.
ReplyDeleteI teach a 5th/6th grade 12:1:3 Autism Spectrum Disorder class. The students are considered high functioning, but all possess language and social delays. This spring we performed a reader’s theatre about Jackie Robinson. The script included some realistic scenes of the verbal abuse that Jackie endured during his playing days. After we performed these scenes the students commented that they felt afraid when they were reading and hearing some of the language that was directed toward Jackie from opposing teams and fans. Taking this approach to text generated much more discussion than traditional reading. I also found that their writing about this reading was far more interesting and insightful than what was generally produced by the students.
ReplyDeleteSeems like finding sensory ways to experience text adds a whole new layer of meaning making for your students.
DeleteEvery year, as a part of our rituals and routines, we practice the procedures for emergency drills. Last year, my class (affectionately called “The 200 Group”) consisted of 9 boys and 3 girls, all of whom were determined to assert their dominance and strength. Before we practiced the lockdown drill, I gave the students the rationale and the procedure, specifying the who, where, when, how, and the why. Then it was time to practice.
ReplyDeleteWhen I called out, “Lockdown!” the students quickly got into position and sat quietly as I whispered further instructions to them. I reminded them that we could make no noise or we could be discovered. I impressed upon them the importance of staying out of sight. We agreed that we would not react if someone knocked at the door or called on the telephone. The students nodded their understanding, and a couple of them raised their hands to ask questions.
As I was telling them to save questions for after the drill, I noticed the biggest, toughest child crying silently. I quickly ended the drill. Before I could approach him to ask what was going on, other students had surrounded him and were consoling him. Boys and girls alike, they reassured him that this was just a drill and that he was okay. These were the same kids who were cursing each other out 30 minutes before. Once they recognized the needs of their classmate, all of their machismo melted into a compassion that gave me great hope for the year to come.
What a story of compassion. What I also notice, however, is the pain the drill generated. So sad.
DeleteIn my resource class, the last thing the students want to do is write; well it’s the second to last thing, math is the last thing. They often ask, why do I have to write in this class? I would like to respond with, Because it’s going to help you and because I said so, but I want the students to put some effort into it. I assure them that it’s a short activity that they might actually enjoy. One of the activities I have done with the kids more than once is Pass the Story. We create a scenario together and I start writing a few sentences. I then fold it down and pass it to the student next to me. They can’t see what I wrote but they have to write a few sentences related to the story, fold it down and pass it on. At the end, we read the story together and the students get a good laugh. They become more relaxed when I ask them to write. They are willing to do the free writes or pick a topic from a given list and write about it. There are fewer complaints, actually none and they just do it. I even give them feedback and ask questions. The other students even enjoy listening to their stories. It’s a huge victory for me.
ReplyDeleteOur administration did some writing assessment in the spring semester. One area that seemed weak in all seven sections was non- fiction writing. Administration decided it best to ask the BOCES writing person for help. It was decided /insisted that all 7 sections of first grade do the exact same nonfiction writing lessons. I did the modeled lessons as required, but only the required lessons. After the required lessons were over my kids did an animal study using Noodle tools (a program from the high school) I saw a writing project teacher do. We had a question about an animal and everyone had a role to research. Students researched using books, articles, and internet. Children worked in groups decided by interest. Each day children reported findings and we made note cards and noodle tools created an outline and organized the data as we reported each day. When we were done we had a mini research paper with a reference section and everything. The rest of the classes practiced the suggested graphic organizers 6 and 7 times. My kids did one, but we did about the same thing with the Noodle tools. All the children in the 7 sections of first grade did great. The pre and post test results were outstanding. Administration was thrilled. My colleagues reported that the children that were forced/encouraged to practice hated report writing. My kids loved nonfiction writing and continued throughout the school year. We did 2 animal reports together and then pairs or groups of kids who wanted to pursue did animals worked during writing workshop. Was it the technology or the ability to choose that made a difference? Children using technology within their everyday practices seemed to fare better than children forced to practice for a writing assessment.
ReplyDeleteI have been an Instructional Coach for 5 years, so I don’t have a classroom of my own. I made a connection to the article we read earlier about demonstrating writing to your students so that they see that you go through the same process as they do to produce writing. Quite a few years ago, I had a group of 2nd graders write about their favorite place. At the same time they were writing, I wrote about “My Front Porch” as my favorite place. Students were so amazed that I was writing, that they kept asking me to read my story to them. I told them that I would read mine after they completed their story. There was no difficulty getting them to finish writing. From that day on, I always wrote when my students did and they began to see themselves and their teacher as writers.
ReplyDeleteYes! This explains the process so well.
DeleteI was out on the playground engaging in my day to day recess responsibilities when the Physical Education teacher approached me with a confusing question. She had asked if I had figured out what child was trying to call me multiple times at school. I looked at her puzzled, not knowing anything about this phone call. It was quite bothersome knowing that a child was trying to reach me through the school phone. I had a whirlwind of emotions running through me. I had a difficult time concentrating the rest of the school day. I NEEDED to solve this mystery. I pondered for what seemed like forever, talking with other teachers and the office staff. No answers. As I was driving home I called one students mother. I was almost positive it was this child trying to reach me for he had called me before when I was home sick. No answer. My heart sank. Thankfully I remembered I had his grandmothers’ phone number as well. She answered! Finally I thought I would be able to breathe. After speaking with her for a bit I asked her if her grandson had tried to call me today. As she asked him I could sense that she was upset that he would do this. She asked twice and he said “No”. Grandma then shared that the night before his family had experienced a house fire and that is was he was not in school today. We hung up after asking her what I could do to help. Disbelief. I could not process the information I was just told. The next day this child came to school. I instantly knew he was the child that was trying to call me the previous day. He came up to me, gave me a hug and told me he tried calling to tell me what had happened to his house. My goodness, how could I think of this child as difficult, challenging? I now have a different outlook on student behaviors. There is ALWAYS a reason. I knew that I had built a relationship with this child. He trusted me and that is a great feeling.
ReplyDelete“Knauss, what’s up? You have any snacks?”
ReplyDelete“I do, did you eat breakfast?”
“Nah, ran for the bus…”
“Granola bar? Vitamin Water?Almonds?”
“Almonds!”
“You have any apples today?”
“Well, I was going to save them for later, but hurry up and I’ll give you one.”
“Miss, I gotta put you on…”
“Later, because the bell is about to ring and you don’t want to get caught in the hall sweep…”
Hugs and a gentle reminder, “Hurry up get to Ms. C and check in. Have a great day and I know I’ll see you later, you can tell me about the weekend then. K?”
This exchange is pretty much what a morning is like in 365B. However, it is times ten - one after the other and it makes me warm inside when their fresh faces so eagerly want to tell me a story. Stories inside waiting to explode.
ReplyDeleteThis has taken a lot of change on my part. I was once that strict, no nonsense teacher who got rattled when the slightest thing went wrong with a lesson plan. PFFFFTTT!!! to that!. However, it is much harder than it looks to the observing eye.
I know that Shaquanda secretly stashed her stuffed animals behind my desk, I know that Shay got drunk and stoned this weekend to forget some of the crap, I know that Danielle is deciding whether to stay at home or run away, and I know that all three of these girls want to graduate. Want the love, and not the hate. Want to know that each and every one of them matters. Matters to me. Matters to their parents. Matters to their friends.
All of this MUST happen before writing an introduction about Anna Shaw, the sufferigist whose excerpt happens to be on the practice Regents. Others may scoff and say this is a waste of time. To me, that is like saying that the kids are a waste of time. How long does it really take to say good morning and give a person (yes, kids are people!) a minute to settle in without being punitively scolded? Not long.
This shift has forced me to change my teaching, my relationships and the fulfillment of the role as a teacher. Look inside first instead of judging what might present itself on the outside. You may find a sweet poem buried under the thick wall built of “fuck you’s” and “you doin’ too much”. You just have to look..
It is November, and the applause in my classroom grew so loud that the assistant principal came to see if everything was okay. This loud applause is the sound of celebration in my English I ICOT classroom. You see, we analyze and discuss an inspirational quote daily as a “Do Now. “ In September, maybe the same two or three students shared every day, and I too would share out after students. It is November, and 90 percent of the class is sharing. I found myself making a new rule about the share out: the first five students to raise their hands can share out per day---- the bell work was spilling over into the time allotted for the day’s lesson. It is important to make a big deal about any learning that takes place in our classroom. The applause is the metaphoric you did a great job. This small thing of including applause increased student engagement, and quickly established a positive rapport with students. When I think back on how I introduced scholars to responding to quotes, I had to teach, re-teach, and re-teach. That did not work. I provided sentence starters and modeled how to use various methods to respond. Those ideas did not work. I then decided to award extra points for participation. That did not work. Desperate, I decided to add in a “turn and talk” before responding. Needless to say, my attempt to incorporate writing daily as bell work was not as successful as I had hoped. And then one day, a scholar shared a response that was articulate and insightful, I applauded and the class joined in. That student then raised their hand daily to receive that praise again. Consequently, we applauded every scholar who shared out from that day forward. By December, we had mastered analyzing quotes, practicing presentation, and increased student engagement, and therefore moved on to learn new concepts that would enhance their writing skills.
ReplyDeleteThere are so many students that come into my classroom that make my class as unique as any other classroom. My first day with my students is usually just getting to know them and they learn about me. There was one student who just cursed the entire period. Since I did not know them well I asked what is his last name so I could call home to learn the why he does what he does since he chose to not tell me. I was sternly told I am not giving you my name with some cursing. I said ok thanks and went on with class.
ReplyDeleteAs the year went on, this student began to warm up to me, in that he actually began to participate. I did not call him out nor did I yell at him based on the first day. Then a couple weeks later he asked to come up for lunch, just us. I figured that this was a small step in building a connection. The first thing he said to me upon entering my room was I have to apologize for cursing at you for that last few weeks. I looked up and said, thank you. We had a talk about the why and I learned so much about him and his family. There were so many external factors that really explained the why that there was no reason to ask any longer. The bottom line was he needed to believe that he can do the work and that I cared. Grades were huge for him as he wanted the A not a C. He came up to lunch for the rest of the year and it was us and a few others. There were times that he would ask that it be just us and I knew that he needed that time. I would help him with all his work at lunch and to see the character change in him was amazing.
He was no longer the student that would curse me out, he was a student that wants the good grades. Every day he would ask me to look up all his grades and write them down so he could show his family. By the middle of the year he didn’t need much help with the work but he needed the time to be himself, which is what my room and I were helping him achieve. The confidence he achieved and the pride he showed in school was huge when you think about the constant cursing he did in the beginning of the year. The growth he had in his social emotional area was so significant that he made on honor roll by the end of the year.
As a reading teacher, I push in to classrooms at several grade levels and work with many students throughout each day. Each morning, I greet students at the front door as they enter school and head to breakfast. I am often greeted with hugs and smiles, stories about what happened at home that morning, or questions about what would be happening at school that day. But there are some students who consistently come in to school in a different mood… feeling tired, grumpy or upset. One morning, a first grader named Eden who often greeted me with “I’m still tired…. I don’t want to be here” walked in with a coy smile on her face. She was carrying her backpack with great care and I could sense the excitement bubbling up as she moved closer and closer to her classroom. I stopped and wondered… “Is there something special going on in first grade this morning? Perhaps a special project, a party, someone’s birthday?”
ReplyDeleteI couldn’t recall anything out of the ordinary, but was still quite curious about the change in her demeanor as I entered her classroom to work with my group that morning. As soon as I stepped foot in the door, she came skipping over to me.
“Today is a special day!” she announced.
“I can tell!” I replied. “I loved to see your smile as you walked in this morning!”
“Well…don’t ya wanna know why today is special?” she inquired.
“Of course… what makes today so special?”
“I’ll give you two hints. I love my cat. And my cat loves school.”
“Umm… ,“ I looked around, feeling a bit confused. “Okay… I’m not sure what you’re getting at. Tell me more.”
“Here, just come here,” she said impatiently. At this point, she called over one of her classroom teachers and brought us to her cubby.
She carefully unzipped her backpack to reveal two furry ears and big green eyes staring up at us.
“I think she snuck in. I kind of forgot she was in there. But now she’s at school with me! Isn’t that awesome!?” she said with a toothy grin.
I was so excited to have my very first classroom last year. I was told that this particular class had a lot of turnover, and I would be lucky teacher #4. I thought to myself that these students couldn’t be that bad, and that I was up for the challenge. I started googling all kinds of fun Pinterest worthy lessons, and activities, bought all kinds of fun decorations, and I was ready. I thought I was ready. I walked into class on my first day March 1, and was stunned by what I encountered throughout the day. I had never seen such a lack of respect, both ways for students and teachers, such a lack of resources, and such a feeling of hopelessness. I left each day at first feeling like I was put here for a reason I just had to stick it out and work hard. Then my feelings shifted to looking for the root cause, yes some of the students were poor, and yes there are a lot of socio-economic issues, but every district has them. My students wanted to learn but it seemed like everyone had given up on them, and the crutch was always related to poverty and lack of parental involvement. My students were more than capable of reaching well beyond the low expectations that were set for them. They just needed some encouragement, guidance, and someone to believe in them. In the short time that I taught last year, my students walked away knowing that I believed in them. Sometimes this was all they needed to turn things around.
ReplyDeleteI watched the brightest student in my class draw blood from the cheek of one of his classmates. It startled and scared me. I didn’t see it coming. I was afraid I couldn’t stop it in time and that the smaller student would be more injured by the time I could get across the room. I couldn’t prevent the damage that I saw happening before my eyes. At this point I could only hope to stop it before it got worse.
ReplyDeleteOnly three blows had landed but it was enough to see blood on the fist and blood on the face. While my heart raced in my chest I pulled my beautiful and brilliant student away from, and off of, the smaller child. He wasn’t calming down and still trying to inflict more damage. Reaching into my karate training, that I hoped I would never have to use, I strong armed the questioning and quick to answer young main order to keep him from further harming another or myself in his rage. I had few words as I escorted him down the hall to the principal’s office. I was still in shock and still my body had managed to respond to the situation. I was seeing myself outside of my body dealing with this unbeautiful situation that had only harsh actions and words without any option for reason or debate.
He was able to calm his fist and find his words but not before scars were delivered to his hands, an innocent cheek, and the unsuspecting eyes and soul of his teacher. What must you see at home? How many times have you been on the other end of the fist? How can that much rage live in a body so small? I’m here to teach you to read and write but your needs go much further. How can I become the teacher you need?
After teaching a lesson about writing a persuasive letter or speech, my students were able to see the connection between my writing that I had shared with them and my everyday values. I had written a speech and showed them a powerful video about why it is important to keep our school and the environment clean. My students saw this part of my personality every day because I would point out the things I felt strongly about, such as using a reusable water bottle made from sustainable resources and recycling everything possible.
ReplyDeleteWell, we were walking back from specials that very afternoon when we saw blue gunk sticking to the floor from a spilled drink of some sort. My students all came into the classroom talking about how we needed to clean it up to show pride in our school and how important this place really is. Students were all begging to be a part of the clean-up, even though it really only required two or three. I picked three students who all helped scrub the floor with me the best that we could (boy does that blue dye really stain). From that point on, my students always volunteered to help clean up when they saw a need and made it a point to recycle when they could… and they were excited to write a persuasive letter about something they felt strongly about.
This is a final assignment that one of my ESL student wrote. She took her very first MCC course (Monroe Community College) by being a high school student. This college class impacted her
ReplyDeletefuture vision and changed her career plans. She thought that college is not for her,but after taking this particular course she decided to go to medical profession.
The question was how to be successful with your classes and manage your time.
If I felt that I am behind in my class, I would contact my professor and ask for her permission to complete my missing assignments.I will consider to get tutoring support in the MCC library. I will give most of my free time to caught up on my late work over break. I will ask my professor for help if I had questions regarding my assignments. I will use every opportunity to improve my situation and would monitor my schedule to not to ended up in that position again. I will make a list of all my missing work and make a plan so I can finish it on time. I will try to submit my current work on time or before due date, that will allow me to work on assignments I need to caught up. I will break my time into chunks where I can spend more time on heavy assignments and leave less time to easy ones. That will help me to manage my time and don't worry about being late. I will plan to caught up in few days so I can do my other regular work on time without any disturbances. I would frequently check my completed assignments folder in blackboard that help me to stay on schedule. I will ask my classmates who were taking notes during the lesson to share with me. This way we can help one another to accomplish our goals in course assignments. I will try to not forget to relax during the break, that will help me with recouping some energy to be successful student and be on time with my assignments.
I love the school that I work at for many reasons, but I especially appreciate the diversity and sense of community. This really came to light with one reading group that I was working with during my first year at the school. This particular group had five students. Four students were in second grade and one was in third. Each student had a different first language- Nepali, Spanish, Arabic, Somali and English. I had never really encountered such diversity in such a small group. All of these students could speak English, too but I knew they were coming from very different linguistic and cultural backgrounds. It seemed like it would be a challenge to help them all become proficient readers in English. Luckily, our school had a family literacy program at the time, and a grandmother of one of my students attended the class each morning. As she learned English, part of her assignment was to join her grandson in class for an hour each day. Lucky for me… that hour included my reading group! I had another adult with us, who was able to learn with us and help translate more complex concepts into Spanish for her grandson. In addition, our parent liaison, who speaks Nepali was able to join our group each day in order to support my student from Nepal. While I was so excited to have the additional support but the biggest benefit came from the fact that those adults were not there just to support or help. They were learning too, and as they were able to articulate points of confusion they encountered within my lessons, I was able to learn more about their perspectives and the perspectives of my students. It became my favorite half hour of the day, because it truly felt like we were all learning together. Our lessons and discussions became so much richer, as we discussed cognates, new vocabulary, and different experiences.
ReplyDeleteTeachers are full of stories. Stories that we often share with each other in the hallways, as we shuffle students into class, during our planning periods, or even over a drink at happy hour. As I think about my last 15 years as a teacher, how do I pick just one story to share? Do I pick a story that will create a chuckle, one that will bring tears to your eyes or one that will make you think, how do we do this job or maybe even say, “this is why I became a teacher”!?!? In actuality, I think it is all these stories that make our classrooms.
ReplyDeleteOne day you may peak in my room and see students engaged in group work, but the very next day may entail students standing up and shouting at each other, while I stand in the middle trying to calm them down. I’m quickly debating in my head if I should call for help. Another day may entail discussing a topic on a book that led to a heated discussion/debate and although we may have gotten a bit off topic I let it go because I can tell the students want to be heard. They connect their life experiences and what is going on in the world. They are awakening me to their life and experiences. I have become the student.
The best stories entail the students that come back just to see you, find you on Facebook & send you a message or that you accidently run into while at the store. Instead of ignoring you (there’s a good chance you don’t recognize them) they make a point to come up to you and chat. This past year I was fortunate to have a handful of encounters with past students. I needed them more than ever. These connections revitalize and bring meaning to what I do.
They certainly do, especially when you meet the family they have raised and are so proud of
Delete