It’s funny, how easily people find themselves fitting into the mold that society has given them. Although I have found my path with few influencing the choices I make in my life, I still realize that many of my choices have been dictated by the world I grew up in. My mom is a teacher, and my sister used to be one – debatebly influenced by my mother as well. And there is nothing that my parents wouldn’t give up to make sure that my education was complete and thorough. Like them, I’m sure that I will be emphasizing formal education as an important element of any life. Education is the way in my family, and in my world. It’s the key.
But when education isn’t something that parents emphasize, or something that an environment emphasizes, what happens to you? I always knew that edcuation was the path to success, to where I wanted to be, but that’s because everyone around me felt the same way, and their parents were successful because of that education. It was unheard of that any parents didn’t have at least a college degree, if not a graduate degree.
I used to give few excuses to kids who didn’t go forth and pursue the most thorough education that they can muster, but that’s just not fair to judge. The social worker at our school once said that if things were different, one of our students could be going to MIT. I don’t doubt it, and after experiencing this school, there’s no way that anyone can convince me that environment isn’t the primary influence of a person’s development – and outcome. There are so many kids at our school that if put in another situation, they would have graduated next to me. And probably with more going for them.
One of the most impressive and dangerous nor’easters is currently blanketing not only the Boston area, but all the way down into the Carolinas. I’m tempted to try and find something to do outside, but I’m at a loss right now since it’s just coming down too hard. My mind has been more preoccupied with the impending break than the concerns of the kids, which I’m sure is a mutual emotion. But before this weekend I was overcome with concern for many of the students that I meet, mostly because I’m now beginning to see what brought them to where they are now, and why they act the way they act. I know that I tend to be a forgiving person with them, which I’m working on tweeking, but who can blame them for being so rude and obnoxious when they’ve seen what they’ve seen? I don’t think I’ve ever been so close to violence, AIDs, and abuse than I have now, and still, I don’t consider myself close at all.
Today in school, one of the students told me that I’m too soft. This isn’t the first time this has happened.
I’ve wanted to update this blog a couple of times since the last post, but I just haven’t been able to find the motivation. My energies have been more focused towards internal mullings rather than an interest in putting my feelings into words. Or sharing them.
The first snow fell a few weekends ago here. The weather is finally turning frigid. The snow made everything feel clean and new again, but it quickly melted with rain a few days later. It did remind me of how important it is to go into school every day with a clean slate – probably the most difficult thing to do in a school. Students tend to think that not standing up for yourself entails ignoring a person who is mistreating you. There’s a fine line between self-advocacy and pride. There’s also a fine line between not wanting to confront a problem and being able to make the problem dissipate. I’m learning these distinctions very well this year. I have to say, there’s been a lot more redefinition of my inner workings these past few months. It’s refreshing.
This week is Spirit Week, where all of the kids get to dress up. Tomorrow is Hat Day, followed by 80′s Day, Spirit Day (wear purple and orange), and two other themed days that I don’t remember. Speaking of having no uniforms, I had an opportunity this weekend to see some of the students out of uniform at a school function. Of course I consider each student at my school a person, but the individualism (or lack thereof) in their street attire was a bit jarring nonetheless. It gave them another dimension, one more complex and involved than I previously knew. For some reason, seeing them in their street clothes made me think more about how hard childhood must be for them compared to what mine was. It’s hard enough growing up anyway, and factoring in everything they experienced doesn’t make it any easier. How do you possibly get over trauma or death or morbid poverty? It becomes your definition, who you’ll always be. It’s hard to shake an identity like that, no matter how many people may be pushing you away from it.
After a week of such measureable success, this previous week has proved to be my most challenging yet. When I originally took this job, I was impressed by the professionalism and commitment that the teachers and administrators of the school seemed to have for the cause for which they were fighting. The most important element of our school is not only to give kids a solid education, but to build an efficient model for future ventures of a similar nature. I find myself emulating this mentality, and I rarely perform any action that I feel would be detrimental to the students we serve, or to the school. This spans from performing menial, simple jobs such as filing to refraining for stealing pens. So it shocks me when I encounter employees of the school that don’t share my mentality. I’m sure this comes with years of deflated ego and intensified need for return. Some people that work for the school don’t keep a big-picture mentality, and therefore often cause inner-staff issues that skyrocket out of control into a personal realm. This is what happened to me this week. I’d rather not get into details.
In addition to a strange employee meltdown of which I was unfortunately in the middle, I’ve begun to be pushed backwards by one of my students, who is resisting my teaching to an incredibly self-destructive degree. It’s gotten to the point where no word I say is worth listening to, and no ally can tell the student otherwise.
The third and final blow to my professional life this week came when one of my most promising and encouraging students deciding to transfer out, convinced that a larger school will serve the needs that she requires – that is, more lax attendance policies. What is so disheartening about it is not her departure – I’ve quickly learned to stop letting those get to me – but her utter disinterest in maintaining the bond she had to our school.
So with those three discouraging events weighing me down, I went to northern New Jersey this weekend, where my sister lives, for a family gathering. My mother and sister have both had significant experience as teachers, which includes experience as inner-city teachers, so my cries of frustration and anger were not falling on deaf ears. In fact, no scenario that I desperately described was unbelievable or unusual to them. They had encountered them all, from ornery and unprofessional co-workers to power-stuggles with students, to those that just seemed to fall through the cracks, no matter how hard you tried to patch all those cracks up.
So as hard as it may seem to deal with all of the utter crap it seems like I deal with every day, it’s good to know that none of them are new to anyone but me and the other new teachers that work with me.
After such a rough last week after weeks before of nothing special, this week has so far proven to be very inspiring. Although my Monday with my new stubborn student was very difficult and uncomfortable – she gave me the silent treatment for the entire 50 minute class – Tuesday was a total 180. She began her assignment as I expected – without a word – but suddenly, she actually asked me a question. Finally, she felt that this class could teach her something. Now tutoring her is productive and perhaps even fun. I’ve learned that the way a student treats you is often sadly based on their whim, or their mood, or on what they think of the class. I was right to not take it personally, because it wasn’t me – it was her utter disinterest in learning anything that I attempted to teach her. It just took time for her to accept the class as useful and important to her future. And I’m one of the lucky ones – sometimes it takes students weeks to figure that out.
With that off my shoulders, I began to prepare for the Health Career Fair. The health teacher assigned me to organize the event, and I took it upon myself to invite 12 professionals, create a banner, elicit assistance from students to make posters around school, and make a welcome brochure for all of the attendees. The event was a complete success. More than once a student would tell a health professional “I had no idea I could do that as a career!!” and I knew from the smiling faces that the professionals had a great time as well. They were rarely left sitting by themselves, almost constantly occupied with another inquisitive student. The science teacher compared the event to speed dating since I gave them a reward for speaking with all of the participants. I like to think that the opportunity to speak with these professionals helped the students realize how much is out there beyond just being a doctor. I don’t know if they would ever have an opportunity like this otherwise. Being a major part of that meant a lot to me.
Every Friday during Professional Development, our supervisor asks us to give him a “pow” and ”wow” – something terrible and awesome that happened to us this week. Usually I’m pretty neutral – my pows and wows are pretty consistent and unyielding, so I’m never one to use it as an opportunity to reflect.
This week there were some definite pows though. I’m used to getting yelled at when I ask a student to correct themselves when they’re breaking a rule, but I’ve never had a problem in the classroom. All of my students have always respected me as a teacher, someone from whom they can learn. The problems have always been when I remind them of a discrepancy – an untucked shirt, hanging out in the halls, having food beyond the 1st floor.
Being denied as a disciplinary is one thing, but it’s an entirely different to be denied as a teacher. It’s certainly a very different type of disturbance. I just have to remember to keep not taking it personally.
But there were some wows as well. Another one of my students trusts me to help her with all types of knowledge. She always listens to me, no matter what. She loves to discuss things, and seems to acknowledge my advice. That’s my wow for the week I guess. That one I’ll take personally.
Today was the first day of the new quarter. It’s so exciting to see new faces, some who were strikingly old in age. At our school, age seems to be directly proportional to motivation. Perhaps when kids turn 18, they realize how many doors are beginning to close on them. I guess that makes them more receptive to our assistance.
I quickly realized that learning about your student is half of teaching them. Just a few minutes of “get to know you” time is invariably valuable, and often can’t be done after any teaching has occurred. Some suggest that you must set the tone by immediately giving them a task, but I disagree entirely. It makes the student more receptive to know that you truly care about them and their individual preferences. Everyone wants to be listened to, even if they are required to listen.
And patience… patience and persistence. The two sacred p’s of teaching at an inner-city school. It took me 20 minutes to convince one of my students to sit down and work with me. But it ended with a humble and mature apology and diligent working… at least until the bell rang. If you can’t give a kid patience and persistence, then there isn’t much you really seem to be able to offer them. One little slip-up with either of these, and it all goes down the drain. Trust me, I know. Once I made the mistake of giving some students the cold shoulder before disciplining them and it went so poorly that they had to be sent home. It’s really all in the approach it seems. Not in the intention.
Tomorrow is the start of a new quarter at my school. I have three new students to tutor and most of the students who absented out last quarter are back to try again. Towards the end of the quarter last year, I noticed that the detention list was getting smaller and smaller. This made me very happy until my supervisor told me that it was because so many students had stopped coming to school.
The school I work at emphasizes “fresh starts” and therefore, there is a chance to receive brand new grades five times a year: The school year is divided into quarter systems plus a summer session, so there are five times a year for students to improve. But time and time again, they fail their classes, absent out, or wait until the last minute to bring their grade to a passing one. What’s frustrating about high school, as opposed to elementary or middle school, is that students ultimately have the ability and desire to make their own decisions. When they’re younger, the possibility of a detention or suspension was enough to keep them listening. But after so many times receiving these punishments, the effect has worn off and they have nothing motivating them against their own short-sighted desires.
Because god knows that we’re not enough. In fact, as much as we tell them what to do, I’d say that only about 20% of it is acknowledged. I don’t blame them. In most societies, they would be adults and ready to be responsible for their own issues. It’s hard to fight against that. Because ultimately, you can give them all of the suspensions and detentions and punishments in the world, but they have to make the decision to succeed and no one else. I don’t think wisdom is something you can gain from another person. I think you have to live it yourself, or else it’s not wisdom at all, but just wise advice. Plus it’s hard for a bunch of inner-city poverty and tragedy stricken kids to listen to a bunch of overeducated, white 23-32 year old females. I sure wouldn’t see why we’re worth listening to if I were them.
When I was younger, particularly in high school, I would always keep something to write my thoughts in. Diaries, journals, blogs – they were all fair ground, and used to litter my bookshelves as well as the internet. But I now consider writing less of a priority than usual – perhaps because I no longer consider myself such an intense priority either. Certainly not to the degree that a high schooler does (as well they should).
However, I think that recording important experiences in your life is important. I guess at the time, high school was pretty damn important to me. Now that I’m in a situation in which reflection is so vital to growth, keeping a journal just makes sense. And since I consider my job one from which many other can also learn, I will publish it openly online.
I work at a small public charter school in an inner-city suburb of Boston. The kids we serve can be from many different places, but they most likely ended up with us because we either provide them with the care, support, and individual attention that they need, or they simply are not allowed to attend any other public school. We have kids fresh out of middle school, and kids who haven’t attended school for 2 years. We have kids from Haiti and EL Salvador, from down the block to out of the state. Many of them, even if they will never admit it, rely on us for more than just a high school diploma. They expect us to be perfect, but I like to think that they learn from our own mistakes – or at least, I hope they are. They test us more than we’ll ever test them.
My job at the school is not directly that of a teacher. I’m working as an “urban fellow,” a position as ambiguous as it is diverse. My duties include those in the administrative process, the counseling process, tutoring and curriculum design, and extracurricular organizing. My duties can range from phone calls (which is a big reason why I’m trying to learn Spanish) from geometry.
I don’t expect this job to make me a hero to some teenager, nor do I expect it to change my life. I try to take the most unself-centered approach to every situation, and try not to talk to any kid like I can teach them what they need to know to succeed – because I can’t. I don’t know if anyone can. All I’m expecting from this job is a better understanding of what it means to grow up with obstacles to your success, a better ability to communicate clearly and rationally, and a knowledge that the only way to truly help others is to stop satisfying your own ego.
