Today was sort of a depressing day.
The kids are starting a poetry unit with this renowned spoken-word-poet Seattle woman, who's coming in every Tuesday for the next ten weeks. She's great with them-- very encouraging, and affirming. The kids read some of their initial free-writes out loud at the end of class today, and I was completely shaken. The writing was STUNNING-- but in many cases, absolutely heart-breaking. One girl wrote about her alcoholic/drug-addicted mother. Another boy wrote about his uncle who was in jail for murder, and his mom who had died, and his dad who had been crippled. He ended it with saying in this strong, sharp-edged tone, "I'm Dan. And my life's been f*****." Some poems were funny-- one kid wrote about cake. Another girl started off with, "I used to think dinosaurs were real. But now I KNOW I'm a Gloriasaurus." But so many of them... were just shattering.
It's like these kids have finally found a venue through which they can actually TALK about what's going on in their lives-- and it's explosive. It's resounding-- but utterly devastating to witness.
Anyway. That gave me heavy boots.
And then Jane was supposed to come work on her paper after school, so I waited, but she didn't show, and I started thinking about all the different kids that have basically tried to scam us this week, with bogus excuses, and lies... And I just felt discouraged.
I decided to just go home. I got my things together, and began walking slowly down the stairs. The particular staircase I was on has big windows looking out onto the parking lot below, and I saw my latino posse, all gathered. The afternoon today was warm, and full of sunshine, and I squinted down at them on the staircase landing, just watching them.
There were George, and Raoul. There were Jose and Eduardo. I saw Miguel there too, who hasn't come to school in weeks. He's a junior, but was taking our freshman/sophomore English class a second time-- but I think he may have just decided to drop out. I squinted at his hand, which he brought to his mouth. Smoking. I saw a blonde girl, facing away from me. Was that Jane? Is that why she wasn't getting help on her paper? No, I realized. It's the Ukrainian girl. Miguel's girlfriend.
A mini-van slowly drove by them, and, as if on cue, they all began moving with purpose as if they were going somewhere together. Then, once the car was gone, they abandoned the act and resettled on a stair-case in the shade, like birds settling themselves on a wire. I just looked at them. Every single one of those boys is failing right now. I saw them talking, laughing, smoking. I never see Raoul laugh like that in class. He always looks so afraid.
I looked at them and just thought: I don't know how to help you.
Eduardo looked up at me, and a moment later, other heads swiveled up to look at the window. Caught. I walked down the rest of the stairs and went outside into the warm sunshine. Waved at them. "Is that Mikey there?" I called out.
"What?"
"Isn't that Miguel? I thought I saw him!"
"What? Oh! Yeah!"
Miguel stood up. "Hey!"
"Hey! How you been? We've missed you!"
"What?" he called.
"How have you been?" I called again.
"I can't hear you!" he called back.
I know, I thought. I wish you could.
_
Showing posts with label students. Show all posts
Showing posts with label students. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Feedback
Andre--
I've seen good work from you, but this does not show what you're capable of doing. Viola and I have given you a LOT of extensions, and extra help, and grade boosts this year, but it's time you stepped up.
I know what you COULD be and I know what you CAN do. But being that and doing that are choices that you have to make.
Hope you do.
Grade: 54/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Theo--
This is what I think:
1.) You are a GIFTED writer. Many exclamation points.
2.) It seems like you will expound and dive in to prompts that INTEREST you, but only make half-hearted (at best?) efforts at prompts that don't.
3.) I suggest you be pro-active about this. If you don't like a prompt, talk to Viola or me about coming up with a "Theo Special" that you can actually sink your teeth into. (Are you looking into [name of an alternative school] for next year? That kind of student-led curriculum seems tailor-made for a smarty-pants like you.) (I mean that in a good way.)
4.) Don't NOT talk to us about coming up with a Theo Special because you think a Theo Special might mean more work. You are a GIFTED, TALENTED WRITER but we can't help you get better if you turn in lame responses to (what you may consider) lame prompts.
5.) Also, just, "in the real world" FYI... You WILL have to B.S. good writing to lame prompts. Sometimes, you'll just have to suck it up-- and it will benefit you to do so.
6.) But in the meantime-- let's get you writing about stuff you're genuinely interested in. Because the results are superb.
Okay?
Grade: 86/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Isaac, we've given you SO many second chances in this class... After you re-took the essay final, you told me you were going to start doing your best work the FIRST time around... But you only have 2 freewrites out of 5. :(
I'm disappointed Isaac-- I know you can do better than this.
Grade: 28/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Sothini is an African immigrant who is an English Language Learner.
Sothini-- you are a beautiful writer! Your language mechanics still have a little ways to go, but you've already vastly improved since the beginning of the year, and I am SO impressed with your descriptions, poetic phrasing, and analogies. Keep it up girl-- you are a WRITER!!
Grade: 87/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Wish I could have read your thoughts on the last two freewrites, Eduardo.
My opinion? You should go to college and major in creative writing. You've got a perceptive mind and a heart that KNOWS things. If you got your motivation up to speed, you'd be unstoppable.
I'D buy a book with your name on it.
Grade: 65/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I posted Amanda's thoughts about true love in an earlier blog.
Amanda-- I just have to say that I was so moved after reading the story about your dad-- especially when thinking about the sweet, positive, kind girl that it happened to. I mistook your cheerful spirit for naivete, thinking that maybe you just hadn't experienced real heartbreak yet-- but I see that life has been tough on you already. I'm so sorry for that. :( But I feel that much more impressed by your lovely, hopeful demeanor. Hang on to that hope Amanda-- life continues to be alternately stormy and beautiful, but HOPE is a life preserver that will help you stay afloat; it is one of the truest, most steadfast gifts we will ever have. Remember, in the darkest times, that light is around the corner-- and YOU have the kind of eyes that will find it.
I love your heart Amanda. You inspire me! :)
Grade: 98/100
I've seen good work from you, but this does not show what you're capable of doing. Viola and I have given you a LOT of extensions, and extra help, and grade boosts this year, but it's time you stepped up.
I know what you COULD be and I know what you CAN do. But being that and doing that are choices that you have to make.
Hope you do.
Grade: 54/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Theo--
This is what I think:
1.) You are a GIFTED writer. Many exclamation points.
2.) It seems like you will expound and dive in to prompts that INTEREST you, but only make half-hearted (at best?) efforts at prompts that don't.
3.) I suggest you be pro-active about this. If you don't like a prompt, talk to Viola or me about coming up with a "Theo Special" that you can actually sink your teeth into. (Are you looking into [name of an alternative school] for next year? That kind of student-led curriculum seems tailor-made for a smarty-pants like you.) (I mean that in a good way.)
4.) Don't NOT talk to us about coming up with a Theo Special because you think a Theo Special might mean more work. You are a GIFTED, TALENTED WRITER but we can't help you get better if you turn in lame responses to (what you may consider) lame prompts.
5.) Also, just, "in the real world" FYI... You WILL have to B.S. good writing to lame prompts. Sometimes, you'll just have to suck it up-- and it will benefit you to do so.
6.) But in the meantime-- let's get you writing about stuff you're genuinely interested in. Because the results are superb.
Okay?
Grade: 86/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Isaac, we've given you SO many second chances in this class... After you re-took the essay final, you told me you were going to start doing your best work the FIRST time around... But you only have 2 freewrites out of 5. :(
I'm disappointed Isaac-- I know you can do better than this.
Grade: 28/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Sothini is an African immigrant who is an English Language Learner.
Sothini-- you are a beautiful writer! Your language mechanics still have a little ways to go, but you've already vastly improved since the beginning of the year, and I am SO impressed with your descriptions, poetic phrasing, and analogies. Keep it up girl-- you are a WRITER!!
Grade: 87/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Wish I could have read your thoughts on the last two freewrites, Eduardo.
My opinion? You should go to college and major in creative writing. You've got a perceptive mind and a heart that KNOWS things. If you got your motivation up to speed, you'd be unstoppable.
I'D buy a book with your name on it.
Grade: 65/100
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I posted Amanda's thoughts about true love in an earlier blog.
Amanda-- I just have to say that I was so moved after reading the story about your dad-- especially when thinking about the sweet, positive, kind girl that it happened to. I mistook your cheerful spirit for naivete, thinking that maybe you just hadn't experienced real heartbreak yet-- but I see that life has been tough on you already. I'm so sorry for that. :( But I feel that much more impressed by your lovely, hopeful demeanor. Hang on to that hope Amanda-- life continues to be alternately stormy and beautiful, but HOPE is a life preserver that will help you stay afloat; it is one of the truest, most steadfast gifts we will ever have. Remember, in the darkest times, that light is around the corner-- and YOU have the kind of eyes that will find it.
I love your heart Amanda. You inspire me! :)
Grade: 98/100
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Dragons and Dylan
Written on Jan. 15th 2009
Since I've confessed teaching fears and insecurities and difficult moments to you on this blog, will you forgive me for telling you about what feels like a smashing success? If at any point the gushing becomes unbearable, just refer back to this. You'll be properly reassured that there have been plenty of ghastly moments as well.
But not during the last two days.
The last two days have been AWESOME.
Viola tagged along on a theatre field trip to Port Townsend this week, which meant I had all of Wednesday and Thursday to instruct. These are both block days-- 90 minute periods. It was my first time teaching a 90 minute lesson, and only the second time I would be teaching without Viola nearby to crack the whip--which meant that I was knee-knocking nervous. She had asked me to teach them how to write an in-class essay. When I worked out the lesson plan, I kept feeling discouraged and hitting mental blocks. After phoning a friend (actually two: teaching-cohort friend Josh, and edgy-English-teacher friend Mark) for ideas, I'd worked out what I wanted to do.
Wednesday: wore a very grown-up outfit to help things.
We started with the main information: I'd written out the main points to think about when writing an in-class essay and we read over the sheet as a class. The Wednesday crew seemed to drag during this part, so for Thursday, I took out key words and replaced them with blanks. The kids guessed what the key words were supposed to be and "filled in the blanks" as we went along, which kept them engaged.
Then came the fun part. "You all know how much I love metaphors," I told them. "And I think of writing an in-class essay as being similar to heading into BATTLE! You want to nail this thing, conquer the beast! So if we're going into battle, the first thing we have to do is figure out what we're fighting-- we have to pick the prompt we want to take on. So if this is a battle, do we want to fight the evil sorcerer or the dragon?"
The classes all perked up at this part. Sorcerers? Dragons? The dragon beat out poor Voldemort every time.
"Okay-- forgive my artistic abilities guys, I'm not nearly the artist that most of you are." And I drew a BIG dragon on the board. The kids loved that.
"Give it wings! Give it a spiky tail! Wait, it looks too happy. That's better."
I labeled it PROMPT. "Okay. That's what we're taking on. Now what do we need if we're going to fight a DRAGON?"
"A weapon!"
"RIGHT! And the weapon is going to be our thesis statement, because there's no way you can successfully take on a prompt without a thesis. So what should we fight him with?"
We fought the dragon with a fire hose, ninja stars, a magical sword, and a nuclear bomb, for 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th period respectively.
The boots were the essay outline, since you can't move forward without boots. The helmet represented brainstorming. And the armor made up the supporting points. "And if you don't make sure ALL areas of your body are covered, the dragon's going to lop that part right off! And THERE goes an arm! And we might pretend it's not a big deal, but it would definitely be more than a flesh wound. Okay? You want to make sure that you back up your thesis with GOOD armor."
In 4th period, one of our most eccentric kids who has repeatedly failed our class, but who is a BRILLIANT artist scooted up and shooed me away from the white board. "I want to draw the dragon." His creation was hilarious and elaborate, and I was able to teach while he went to dragon town.
Then the kids drew their own. And they came up with the BEST analogies! One girl drew her make-up kit: the directions were the outline, since you needed to have some idea how to put your make-up on. The different pictures of how you could apply it represented brainstorming. The brush was the thesis statement, because you can't put makeup on without it, and the different colors of makeup were the supporting points. One African kid-- who often struggles in our class, because of his language difficulties-- drew a basketball hoop as the prompt, the ball as the thesis statement, his athletic positioning as the supporting points, and his shoes as the outline. It was spot on. When they were done, they went up front and explained their analogy-- and they were seriously GREAT! They totally got the concept, and by teaching it themselves, the different steps were repeatedly reinforced.
The next part of the lesson I had struggled with. I wanted to have them practice writing an essay in class, but on what? We finished our last book before break, and we'd only been looking at haiku in the last week. But how can you write an essay on a haiku? Then I remembered that my Wednesday sub was a guitar player who loved Bob Dylan.
So we busted out Bob Dylan.
After giving them some background on who Bob Dylan was, and the context in which he wrote his famous song, "Blowin' in the Wind," we played it for them, trading off verses, doing harmonies at the end, and Neil even did a sweet guitar solo. The kids loved it! Later in the day, in our mentoring class which normally just acts as a study hall, the kids all made me play more songs, and clamored about which one was their favorite. They liked my songs!!
After playing the Dylan song, I asked, "So what is this song about? What is Dylan saying with all this?" The kids have amazing poetic sensibilities, and they made some beautiful observations. One kid said that "blowin' in the wind" meant that, even though the answer is immediately in front of us, it would take work to CHASE after it-- and it's our laziness that results in all these continued problems. Another kid suggested that the line, "How many times must the white dove sail before she sleeps in the sand?" referenced Noah's ark. "The flood came because of all the chaos in the world, so it's asking when the world will finally be peaceful enough for the waters to go down so the dove can land." Another kid observed that the line, "How many times must a man look up before he sees the sky?" implied that we were so consumed with our own comforts and the "being indoors" that we refused to look at what was real, what was high above us, what was clear.
GREAT stuff, right??
Then we wrote an essay together, examining what the line "The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind" might mean. We brainstormed, and then outlined, and picked a thesis. The kids contributed their ideas for supporting points, and picked lines from the song as evidence. I asked them, "So are you getting this? You're tracking? If you came in to an essay exam, do you feel like you would know how to start now?" They all nodded, nodded, yes, yes we would.
The last ten minutes, they read the haikus they had been assigned to write for homework. And they were beautiful. They were BEAUTIFUL. These are just... magic moments.
I felt like such a TEACHER! I joked with the students, but was very much the adult in the room, and they were respectful and attentive. The sub I had today told me, "You have an incredible rapport with these kids. They really respect you. I mean they REALLY respect you, you can see it."
"Really??" I asked, delighted. "That mutual respect thing is very important to me-- I don't feel I can ask for their respect unless I demonstrate that I respect them, so that's been something I've been really working towards..."
"Well you HAVE it," he said. "You have a great sense of how to work with them-- you know when to joke with them to get them to do something you need, but you also know when to get more serious-- your tone and the inflection of your voice guides them in just the way it needs to. I've never seen a student teacher who was able to handle the kids like you do."
He told me that!!!
I saw my dragon-artist in the hall later on, who is consistently a contrarian in class-- any point made will be rebutted by this student. But he's delightful. I told him, "Clark, thanks for the white board illustration today, that was fantastic. And I always enjoy hearing what you have to say. I know we sometimes give you a hard time for your quips, but you're very witty."
"Thaaaanks," he said, in his particular way of talking. "I like that you do metaphors, it makes it less boring." This is a kid that doesn't do ANY homework, and rarely does ANY of the in class work. And he thought my lesson was interesting!
Later on, two boys were talking outside of our swing dance class: Andre-- remember Andre? and this sweet African immigrant kid named Rakeesh, who's tall and athletic, and works really hard. Andre said as I approached, "Hey Greta, Rakeesh's talkin' smack about you, you know..."
"Whaaaat?" I said, grinning.
"No I did't! I was not!" Rakeesh said. And then in his halting English he said, "She's a...good singah', an', an', an' a GREAT teacher!"
HE SAID THAT!! My own student said that I'm a great teacher!!!
It was just an awesome two days. There have been so many times this year when I've felt discouraged, when I've felt exhausted, when I've wondered if I really want to have to plan lessons and grade papers for the rest of my life... But days like this remind me why I got into this in the first place. I do feel CALLED to this. And these magical moments... man! Honestly, there's nothing like it, feeling like you got THROUGH somehow-- feeling like YOU learned something from these amazing, angsty, hormone-ridden, stubborn, sensitive, unique, incredible individuals staring back at you from their desks.
I know more hard moments are coming, and that there will be many more points where I feel discouraged. But the last two days were just the best. And this blog will be my way of preserving it-- putting it in a Mason jar and sealing it tight, and keeping it in a place where I can pull it out when I need that extra sustenance.
I loved these days. I just loved them.
Since I've confessed teaching fears and insecurities and difficult moments to you on this blog, will you forgive me for telling you about what feels like a smashing success? If at any point the gushing becomes unbearable, just refer back to this. You'll be properly reassured that there have been plenty of ghastly moments as well.
But not during the last two days.
The last two days have been AWESOME.
Viola tagged along on a theatre field trip to Port Townsend this week, which meant I had all of Wednesday and Thursday to instruct. These are both block days-- 90 minute periods. It was my first time teaching a 90 minute lesson, and only the second time I would be teaching without Viola nearby to crack the whip--which meant that I was knee-knocking nervous. She had asked me to teach them how to write an in-class essay. When I worked out the lesson plan, I kept feeling discouraged and hitting mental blocks. After phoning a friend (actually two: teaching-cohort friend Josh, and edgy-English-teacher friend Mark) for ideas, I'd worked out what I wanted to do.
Wednesday: wore a very grown-up outfit to help things.
We started with the main information: I'd written out the main points to think about when writing an in-class essay and we read over the sheet as a class. The Wednesday crew seemed to drag during this part, so for Thursday, I took out key words and replaced them with blanks. The kids guessed what the key words were supposed to be and "filled in the blanks" as we went along, which kept them engaged.
Then came the fun part. "You all know how much I love metaphors," I told them. "And I think of writing an in-class essay as being similar to heading into BATTLE! You want to nail this thing, conquer the beast! So if we're going into battle, the first thing we have to do is figure out what we're fighting-- we have to pick the prompt we want to take on. So if this is a battle, do we want to fight the evil sorcerer or the dragon?"
The classes all perked up at this part. Sorcerers? Dragons? The dragon beat out poor Voldemort every time.
"Okay-- forgive my artistic abilities guys, I'm not nearly the artist that most of you are." And I drew a BIG dragon on the board. The kids loved that.
"Give it wings! Give it a spiky tail! Wait, it looks too happy. That's better."
I labeled it PROMPT. "Okay. That's what we're taking on. Now what do we need if we're going to fight a DRAGON?"
"A weapon!"
"RIGHT! And the weapon is going to be our thesis statement, because there's no way you can successfully take on a prompt without a thesis. So what should we fight him with?"
We fought the dragon with a fire hose, ninja stars, a magical sword, and a nuclear bomb, for 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th period respectively.
The boots were the essay outline, since you can't move forward without boots. The helmet represented brainstorming. And the armor made up the supporting points. "And if you don't make sure ALL areas of your body are covered, the dragon's going to lop that part right off! And THERE goes an arm! And we might pretend it's not a big deal, but it would definitely be more than a flesh wound. Okay? You want to make sure that you back up your thesis with GOOD armor."
In 4th period, one of our most eccentric kids who has repeatedly failed our class, but who is a BRILLIANT artist scooted up and shooed me away from the white board. "I want to draw the dragon." His creation was hilarious and elaborate, and I was able to teach while he went to dragon town.
Then the kids drew their own. And they came up with the BEST analogies! One girl drew her make-up kit: the directions were the outline, since you needed to have some idea how to put your make-up on. The different pictures of how you could apply it represented brainstorming. The brush was the thesis statement, because you can't put makeup on without it, and the different colors of makeup were the supporting points. One African kid-- who often struggles in our class, because of his language difficulties-- drew a basketball hoop as the prompt, the ball as the thesis statement, his athletic positioning as the supporting points, and his shoes as the outline. It was spot on. When they were done, they went up front and explained their analogy-- and they were seriously GREAT! They totally got the concept, and by teaching it themselves, the different steps were repeatedly reinforced.
The next part of the lesson I had struggled with. I wanted to have them practice writing an essay in class, but on what? We finished our last book before break, and we'd only been looking at haiku in the last week. But how can you write an essay on a haiku? Then I remembered that my Wednesday sub was a guitar player who loved Bob Dylan.
So we busted out Bob Dylan.
After giving them some background on who Bob Dylan was, and the context in which he wrote his famous song, "Blowin' in the Wind," we played it for them, trading off verses, doing harmonies at the end, and Neil even did a sweet guitar solo. The kids loved it! Later in the day, in our mentoring class which normally just acts as a study hall, the kids all made me play more songs, and clamored about which one was their favorite. They liked my songs!!
After playing the Dylan song, I asked, "So what is this song about? What is Dylan saying with all this?" The kids have amazing poetic sensibilities, and they made some beautiful observations. One kid said that "blowin' in the wind" meant that, even though the answer is immediately in front of us, it would take work to CHASE after it-- and it's our laziness that results in all these continued problems. Another kid suggested that the line, "How many times must the white dove sail before she sleeps in the sand?" referenced Noah's ark. "The flood came because of all the chaos in the world, so it's asking when the world will finally be peaceful enough for the waters to go down so the dove can land." Another kid observed that the line, "How many times must a man look up before he sees the sky?" implied that we were so consumed with our own comforts and the "being indoors" that we refused to look at what was real, what was high above us, what was clear.
GREAT stuff, right??
Then we wrote an essay together, examining what the line "The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind" might mean. We brainstormed, and then outlined, and picked a thesis. The kids contributed their ideas for supporting points, and picked lines from the song as evidence. I asked them, "So are you getting this? You're tracking? If you came in to an essay exam, do you feel like you would know how to start now?" They all nodded, nodded, yes, yes we would.
The last ten minutes, they read the haikus they had been assigned to write for homework. And they were beautiful. They were BEAUTIFUL. These are just... magic moments.
I felt like such a TEACHER! I joked with the students, but was very much the adult in the room, and they were respectful and attentive. The sub I had today told me, "You have an incredible rapport with these kids. They really respect you. I mean they REALLY respect you, you can see it."
"Really??" I asked, delighted. "That mutual respect thing is very important to me-- I don't feel I can ask for their respect unless I demonstrate that I respect them, so that's been something I've been really working towards..."
"Well you HAVE it," he said. "You have a great sense of how to work with them-- you know when to joke with them to get them to do something you need, but you also know when to get more serious-- your tone and the inflection of your voice guides them in just the way it needs to. I've never seen a student teacher who was able to handle the kids like you do."
He told me that!!!
I saw my dragon-artist in the hall later on, who is consistently a contrarian in class-- any point made will be rebutted by this student. But he's delightful. I told him, "Clark, thanks for the white board illustration today, that was fantastic. And I always enjoy hearing what you have to say. I know we sometimes give you a hard time for your quips, but you're very witty."
"Thaaaanks," he said, in his particular way of talking. "I like that you do metaphors, it makes it less boring." This is a kid that doesn't do ANY homework, and rarely does ANY of the in class work. And he thought my lesson was interesting!
Later on, two boys were talking outside of our swing dance class: Andre-- remember Andre? and this sweet African immigrant kid named Rakeesh, who's tall and athletic, and works really hard. Andre said as I approached, "Hey Greta, Rakeesh's talkin' smack about you, you know..."
"Whaaaat?" I said, grinning.
"No I did't! I was not!" Rakeesh said. And then in his halting English he said, "She's a...good singah', an', an', an' a GREAT teacher!"
HE SAID THAT!! My own student said that I'm a great teacher!!!
It was just an awesome two days. There have been so many times this year when I've felt discouraged, when I've felt exhausted, when I've wondered if I really want to have to plan lessons and grade papers for the rest of my life... But days like this remind me why I got into this in the first place. I do feel CALLED to this. And these magical moments... man! Honestly, there's nothing like it, feeling like you got THROUGH somehow-- feeling like YOU learned something from these amazing, angsty, hormone-ridden, stubborn, sensitive, unique, incredible individuals staring back at you from their desks.
I know more hard moments are coming, and that there will be many more points where I feel discouraged. But the last two days were just the best. And this blog will be my way of preserving it-- putting it in a Mason jar and sealing it tight, and keeping it in a place where I can pull it out when I need that extra sustenance.
I loved these days. I just loved them.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Small Victories
Today, 3rd and 5th periods were supposed to perform their plays. These two periods have struggled more than any other; Viola even decided to cancel the audience she'd arranged for 5th period's play, since they were so behind. Regardless, today was the day to perform: ready or not, here they flounder.
5th period starting running through their scenes at the beginning of class for one last rehearsal. When it came time to run Isaac's scene, I watched for what he would do. On Monday, he'd been in a black mood and refused to take any of the direction we gave him. When I finally said, "What's going on Isaac??" he glowered, and said he didn't want to do the scene at all.
Viola told him, "That means you'll get a zero for your grade."
"Fine," he said, and walked off stage.
I watched him stalk off, and then stood up. "Come on Isaac," I said. We talked out in the hall. I finally told him to take a minute to just cool off and come back in. He ended up skipping the rest of the period, which ticked me off.
But teenagers-- especially the boys-- can be moody, and I hoped it would prove to have been a temporary "Black Monday" sort of thing. For all his attitude, I've got a soft spot for the footsie-ing, holstering twerp.
But when it came time to run his scene, Isaac came up to us. "They found someone else to do my part, so I don't have to do it," he said.
Viola was in yelling, wrangling, director mode. "That means you'll get a ZERO," she said loudly.
He shrugged, and his face got hard. "Fine."
"Then LEAVE. You can spend the rest of the class in the office," Viola said. "I don't want you here if you're going to take that attitude."
He shrugged again and started getting his stuff.
Viola sighed. "Do you want to talk to him?" she asked me. I followed him out into the hall.
Isaac is a little guy, and I've heard the other kids make fun of him for being so small. He compensates by wearing big sweatshirts, baggy shorts, and sporting a determined mustache. He has bright blue eyes that either twinkle or glower. I know he cares about his grades: he tries with the homework, and he gets super bummed over a bad test score. One day, he got a C grade on a packet he turned in, and ended up staying after school for an hour to improve it. He ended up getting a revised grade of 161 out of 165-- a high A. When I gave him the packet back, and he saw the new score, he was SO HAPPY. You should have seen it-- it was such an awesome moment for me. He was SO PUMPED that he'd gotten that grade up so high. On the first day that Isaac and his partner rehearsed their scene, Isaac played the king and his buddy Drew played the queen. K-- oh K...-- had scoffed from the audience. "Shouldn't ISAAC play the girl?? Kings are supposed to be GOOD-LOOKING." I chided K, but I saw that it stung Isaac. We've also heard from his little gal-pal that there's something going on with his family at home. I don't know how much of all this was a factor. I'm sure some of it was.
"Isaac... what's going on??"
He shrugged again and his face was sharp. "I don't wanna do it."
"But Isaac, that would mean the highest grade you could get this quarter is a C... And I KNOW you care about your grades."
"Viola's bein' stupid, she keeps yelling, she takes it so frickin' seriously... I don't wanna do it."
"Honestly dude, that's a pretty common mode for directors to take right before the show... I remember I once directed an assembly for the ASB officers when I was in high-school, and it was based on the Wizard of Oz... And I was in this big poofy pink dress, because I was supposed to be Glinda the Good Witch, and the middle-school boys could NOT get their part ready, and I just about lost it. I was like, 'FIGURE IT OUUUUT!'"
He didn't say anything.
I sighed. "I get that you don't agree with exactly how she's acting, but... That's kind of life, you know? There's always going to be someone that you have to toe the line for, and sometimes you'll like them and sometimes you won't. But... it doesn't hurt HER to give you a bad grade. EMOTIONALLY, it hurts us, because we care about you, and we want you to do well, but ultimately... You're the one that the bad grade impacts. And Isaac... I know you CARE about your grades. I still think of you coming in after school and working on that packet. You worked SO HARD, and that made me feel so good, like that was a good moment for ME, as a TEACHER. Because sometimes it's hard to get you guys to try. But you really did an amazing job with that packet."
He looked away, and his eyes were slits. I saw a water drop fall from the side of his face turned away from me.
"You don't have to ace this one, Isaac. I'm getting that the performance stuff isn't your thing. But... if you can just GET yourself through it... That would be really good."
He stayed silent.
"Is there something else going on Isaac...?"
He still looked hard at the wall, and narrowed his bright blue eyes, but there were tears coming out of both of them now. I sighed. "I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better." I paused. "Okay. Why don't you take five minutes, and just... think about it. And if you're not back in class in five minutes, then I'll go look for you in the office, and... we'll understand that you've made the decision to just not do it. Okay?" He nodded. I went back inside.
His friend Jessica asked to go talk to him, and she did. Viola asked how he was; I said he was upset. She went to go find him too. Jessica came back in and said, "I was starting to get him to laugh...! I think I could have maybe gotten him to come back in, but then Viola made me leave...!"
"It's okay," I told her. "Isaac needs to make his own choice, you know?"
Viola came back in. "He's coming," she said. "He's just going to do the crowd scenes."
And sure enough: Isaac did a crowd scene.
He got dressed in the Indian garb like everyone else, and even let our resident India-expert put a turban on him, and during the wedding scene he got up, and danced with everyone else.
And to me, that was a TRIUMPH.
As grad school interns, we're supposed to be collecting evidence of our students' work: evidence that will show we're impacting their learning. But most of the moments I'm most proud of have been when I've succeeded in just getting a kid to TURN THE WORK IN-- or in this case, to DO the performance. I can think of two boys that I hassled, and prodded, and encouraged, and spent hours working on drafts with so that they would TURN IN an essay. By the time they finally got them in, they were weeks late, and the boys only got between 25%-50%. But: they TURNED THEM IN. And that was such a great moment for me. We were only able to give Isaac 50% for his performance grade on this-- but he was IN the performance. He wore a green turban. He did the clapping dance in a circle. He came BACK into the classroom.
They're not much, but these small victories are seriously the moments that make me feel the best about teaching. I think of one of those two boys I'd mentioned, Adam, getting the paper back that he'd finally finally FINALLY turned in, and reading the comments that I'd written. His paper was ghastly-- truly-- but I'd written how proud I was of him for doing the work. Normally when Adam gets another failed assignment or test back, he crumples it up and throws it in the garbage. When I gave him that paper back, he looked at the comments for a long time, and then he carefully put the paper in his notebook. I LOVE that.
5th period made it through their performance-- and they had a small audience after all, of about 6 upperclassmen! They limped their way through, and during the last scene we all-- Viola, the kids, and me all together-- just cracked up because it was so haphazardly thrown together. But they actually did really well-- the play really came together pretty well! We had them all write their names on grading rubrics after class so that we could give them a score, and Isaac gave me his. "Thanks Isaac," I said, distractedly, collecting the others.
He started to walk away, but he looked back at the same moment I looked after him. "Thank you," I said. He gave a little nod of acknowledgment.
Small victories. But dang, do they make me feel good.
5th period starting running through their scenes at the beginning of class for one last rehearsal. When it came time to run Isaac's scene, I watched for what he would do. On Monday, he'd been in a black mood and refused to take any of the direction we gave him. When I finally said, "What's going on Isaac??" he glowered, and said he didn't want to do the scene at all.
Viola told him, "That means you'll get a zero for your grade."
"Fine," he said, and walked off stage.
I watched him stalk off, and then stood up. "Come on Isaac," I said. We talked out in the hall. I finally told him to take a minute to just cool off and come back in. He ended up skipping the rest of the period, which ticked me off.
But teenagers-- especially the boys-- can be moody, and I hoped it would prove to have been a temporary "Black Monday" sort of thing. For all his attitude, I've got a soft spot for the footsie-ing, holstering twerp.
But when it came time to run his scene, Isaac came up to us. "They found someone else to do my part, so I don't have to do it," he said.
Viola was in yelling, wrangling, director mode. "That means you'll get a ZERO," she said loudly.
He shrugged, and his face got hard. "Fine."
"Then LEAVE. You can spend the rest of the class in the office," Viola said. "I don't want you here if you're going to take that attitude."
He shrugged again and started getting his stuff.
Viola sighed. "Do you want to talk to him?" she asked me. I followed him out into the hall.
Isaac is a little guy, and I've heard the other kids make fun of him for being so small. He compensates by wearing big sweatshirts, baggy shorts, and sporting a determined mustache. He has bright blue eyes that either twinkle or glower. I know he cares about his grades: he tries with the homework, and he gets super bummed over a bad test score. One day, he got a C grade on a packet he turned in, and ended up staying after school for an hour to improve it. He ended up getting a revised grade of 161 out of 165-- a high A. When I gave him the packet back, and he saw the new score, he was SO HAPPY. You should have seen it-- it was such an awesome moment for me. He was SO PUMPED that he'd gotten that grade up so high. On the first day that Isaac and his partner rehearsed their scene, Isaac played the king and his buddy Drew played the queen. K-- oh K...-- had scoffed from the audience. "Shouldn't ISAAC play the girl?? Kings are supposed to be GOOD-LOOKING." I chided K, but I saw that it stung Isaac. We've also heard from his little gal-pal that there's something going on with his family at home. I don't know how much of all this was a factor. I'm sure some of it was.
"Isaac... what's going on??"
He shrugged again and his face was sharp. "I don't wanna do it."
"But Isaac, that would mean the highest grade you could get this quarter is a C... And I KNOW you care about your grades."
"Viola's bein' stupid, she keeps yelling, she takes it so frickin' seriously... I don't wanna do it."
"Honestly dude, that's a pretty common mode for directors to take right before the show... I remember I once directed an assembly for the ASB officers when I was in high-school, and it was based on the Wizard of Oz... And I was in this big poofy pink dress, because I was supposed to be Glinda the Good Witch, and the middle-school boys could NOT get their part ready, and I just about lost it. I was like, 'FIGURE IT OUUUUT!'"
He didn't say anything.
I sighed. "I get that you don't agree with exactly how she's acting, but... That's kind of life, you know? There's always going to be someone that you have to toe the line for, and sometimes you'll like them and sometimes you won't. But... it doesn't hurt HER to give you a bad grade. EMOTIONALLY, it hurts us, because we care about you, and we want you to do well, but ultimately... You're the one that the bad grade impacts. And Isaac... I know you CARE about your grades. I still think of you coming in after school and working on that packet. You worked SO HARD, and that made me feel so good, like that was a good moment for ME, as a TEACHER. Because sometimes it's hard to get you guys to try. But you really did an amazing job with that packet."
He looked away, and his eyes were slits. I saw a water drop fall from the side of his face turned away from me.
"You don't have to ace this one, Isaac. I'm getting that the performance stuff isn't your thing. But... if you can just GET yourself through it... That would be really good."
He stayed silent.
"Is there something else going on Isaac...?"
He still looked hard at the wall, and narrowed his bright blue eyes, but there were tears coming out of both of them now. I sighed. "I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better." I paused. "Okay. Why don't you take five minutes, and just... think about it. And if you're not back in class in five minutes, then I'll go look for you in the office, and... we'll understand that you've made the decision to just not do it. Okay?" He nodded. I went back inside.
His friend Jessica asked to go talk to him, and she did. Viola asked how he was; I said he was upset. She went to go find him too. Jessica came back in and said, "I was starting to get him to laugh...! I think I could have maybe gotten him to come back in, but then Viola made me leave...!"
"It's okay," I told her. "Isaac needs to make his own choice, you know?"
Viola came back in. "He's coming," she said. "He's just going to do the crowd scenes."
And sure enough: Isaac did a crowd scene.
He got dressed in the Indian garb like everyone else, and even let our resident India-expert put a turban on him, and during the wedding scene he got up, and danced with everyone else.
And to me, that was a TRIUMPH.
As grad school interns, we're supposed to be collecting evidence of our students' work: evidence that will show we're impacting their learning. But most of the moments I'm most proud of have been when I've succeeded in just getting a kid to TURN THE WORK IN-- or in this case, to DO the performance. I can think of two boys that I hassled, and prodded, and encouraged, and spent hours working on drafts with so that they would TURN IN an essay. By the time they finally got them in, they were weeks late, and the boys only got between 25%-50%. But: they TURNED THEM IN. And that was such a great moment for me. We were only able to give Isaac 50% for his performance grade on this-- but he was IN the performance. He wore a green turban. He did the clapping dance in a circle. He came BACK into the classroom.
They're not much, but these small victories are seriously the moments that make me feel the best about teaching. I think of one of those two boys I'd mentioned, Adam, getting the paper back that he'd finally finally FINALLY turned in, and reading the comments that I'd written. His paper was ghastly-- truly-- but I'd written how proud I was of him for doing the work. Normally when Adam gets another failed assignment or test back, he crumples it up and throws it in the garbage. When I gave him that paper back, he looked at the comments for a long time, and then he carefully put the paper in his notebook. I LOVE that.
5th period made it through their performance-- and they had a small audience after all, of about 6 upperclassmen! They limped their way through, and during the last scene we all-- Viola, the kids, and me all together-- just cracked up because it was so haphazardly thrown together. But they actually did really well-- the play really came together pretty well! We had them all write their names on grading rubrics after class so that we could give them a score, and Isaac gave me his. "Thanks Isaac," I said, distractedly, collecting the others.
He started to walk away, but he looked back at the same moment I looked after him. "Thank you," I said. He gave a little nod of acknowledgment.
Small victories. But dang, do they make me feel good.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Week Two: Put the Gun in the Holster
Reflecting then on the second week:
I liked this week. I just really like what I'm doing. I like the students, even when they have big attitudes, and I like getting to know them, and I like talking about what we're talking about in class, and I like writing down ideas of what I want to do for my class next year. This is just FUN, and exciting. I'm sure I'll have plenty to complain about later on, but for now I'm happy to be happy.
I did more observing than teaching this week, so it was a little less eventful. There were some great moments though, so I'll focus this blog on those:
1.) Remember K? For whatever reason, on Wednesday of this week, she had a great day. We had a warm moment when she greeted me in an assembly and I squeezed her foot, which she'd rested on the seat in front of her. Later I had to ask her to take it down, but she willingly complied. In class that afternoon, she was polite and focused and at one point asked me a question, starting it with, "Gretchen, what was..."
I responded, "It's actually Greta," and then answered her question.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that, I'm really sorry...!"
"No worries K, it happens."
I saw her again on my way out the door that afternoon and said, "K, you were so great today. I really appreciated how polite you were!" She gave me a silly grin, and finished running up the stairs.
On Friday, she seemed to be in a contentious mood again, but she seemed more ready to listen and be reasonable when I questioned her on it. It feels like there's more of a relationship there, which other teachers tell me is huge in managing harder students. And I loved that we had that good day-- if nothing else, the next time she's being really tough to work with, I can pull her aside and say, "K, I KNOW how great you can be, I've seen it. What's the deal with today?"
2.) More relationship building: a ninth-grader named "I"-- I'll call him Isaac-- often has trouble focusing and is frequently flirting with the girl across from him, or talking under his breath, or showing signs of great boredom. On Monday, I kept catching his eye, and indicating, "Isaac, stop" or "Isaac, cut it out." At one point, I looked over and he'd made his hand into the shape of gun and was pointing it at his head, like, "Shoot me, this is so boring." I caught his eye, and made my hand into the shape of gun, and put it to my head. Then I mimed putting it in the holster and raised my eyebrows at him. He looked at me for a second. Then, he took his "gun" off his head, twirled it, blew the smoke off his fingers, and finally holstered it. We both grinned.
On Friday, we'd given the class work-time to fill out a "Hero Journey worksheet" that they'd been assigned for homework, which essentially asked them to start translating their own stories into a Hero Journey. I came over and asked Isaac and his gal pal if they were working. "Yes! Yes we are!" she started out quickly.
"Great! What are you coming up with?"
"Isaac is figuring out-- he's going to do something with a frog prince!" They both laughed at her quick improvisation.
"Oh you ARE? Isaac-- it's going to be your mission to find a frog prince?? Well that's great! I didn't know you wanted a PRINCE! How sweet! I honestly didn't realize you went that way, but that's great, I'm really happy for you, I'm glad you know what you're looking for!" The other kids at the table erupted into giggles, and Isaac grinned at the ribbing, turning red.
It's fun to be getting to the point where I can joke around with them. :)
3.) Some moments that indicate room for improvement: the students seem to have uncovered an Achilles Heel for Viola and me as far as clear communication on what one of us has told the students. For example, one student will ask me to go to the bathroom and I'll approve; then Viola will see the student leaving and say, "Mary sit back down please, you can go after I finish explaining this." Another student on Friday asked Viola if she could listen to her I-pod when doing independent work; Viola told her no, and then when the student asked ME later, I said that she could, so long as I could see that she was working. Crossed-wires make us BOTH look bad... Luckily, Viola's been great about recognizing when she accidently undermines what instruction I've given, and understanding when I accidently undermine hers. Bottom line-- we just need to make sure that we're on the same page!
4.) One more thing I'll mention: Viola also teaches a Swing Dancing Class for our elective, so I've been getting to Lindy Hop my heart away during 6th period. It's GREAT to end the day doing something active, and I love getting to interact with the kids on a different level. We have many of the Dance students in our English classes, and getting to be silly with them in Dance helps our interactions in English. :) Viola especially gets goofy when she's teaching the class-- she has Buddy Holly glasses frames without any glass in them that she always puts on to commence her instruction, haha! I'm happy to report that 10 years of dance training enables me to fake it well enough to be accepted by the students as a legitimate Swing Dancing T.A., although-- I'm still under suspect by some of the students who don't have me for class. On Thursday, a little guy was peering in the window of dance class and distracting some of the students. I opened the door and asked, "Where are you supposed to be right now?"
"Karen's class."
"Well, how about you go to Karen's class?"
"What...? Are you even a teacher?"
"Yes!"
"No you're not, SHE'S the teacher!" (pointing to Viola)
"I'm her intern! Now scoot yourself, get to class!"
That was my own fault I think-- I was wearing a funkier outfit that day (siiiigh, again, with the wardrobe) and looked younger. I felt tickled by the exchange though. Haha!
But I will say: dancing with teenage boys that are supposed to see me as a teacher can be so awkward!! There's usually no eye contact, plenty of B.O. and cologne, lots of sweaty palms, and lots of awkward responses to my conversational questions. It's uncomfortable, but hilarious!
Alright, that should wrap up Week 2. :) Yay for fun interactions!
I liked this week. I just really like what I'm doing. I like the students, even when they have big attitudes, and I like getting to know them, and I like talking about what we're talking about in class, and I like writing down ideas of what I want to do for my class next year. This is just FUN, and exciting. I'm sure I'll have plenty to complain about later on, but for now I'm happy to be happy.
I did more observing than teaching this week, so it was a little less eventful. There were some great moments though, so I'll focus this blog on those:
1.) Remember K? For whatever reason, on Wednesday of this week, she had a great day. We had a warm moment when she greeted me in an assembly and I squeezed her foot, which she'd rested on the seat in front of her. Later I had to ask her to take it down, but she willingly complied. In class that afternoon, she was polite and focused and at one point asked me a question, starting it with, "Gretchen, what was..."
I responded, "It's actually Greta," and then answered her question.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that, I'm really sorry...!"
"No worries K, it happens."
I saw her again on my way out the door that afternoon and said, "K, you were so great today. I really appreciated how polite you were!" She gave me a silly grin, and finished running up the stairs.
On Friday, she seemed to be in a contentious mood again, but she seemed more ready to listen and be reasonable when I questioned her on it. It feels like there's more of a relationship there, which other teachers tell me is huge in managing harder students. And I loved that we had that good day-- if nothing else, the next time she's being really tough to work with, I can pull her aside and say, "K, I KNOW how great you can be, I've seen it. What's the deal with today?"
2.) More relationship building: a ninth-grader named "I"-- I'll call him Isaac-- often has trouble focusing and is frequently flirting with the girl across from him, or talking under his breath, or showing signs of great boredom. On Monday, I kept catching his eye, and indicating, "Isaac, stop" or "Isaac, cut it out." At one point, I looked over and he'd made his hand into the shape of gun and was pointing it at his head, like, "Shoot me, this is so boring." I caught his eye, and made my hand into the shape of gun, and put it to my head. Then I mimed putting it in the holster and raised my eyebrows at him. He looked at me for a second. Then, he took his "gun" off his head, twirled it, blew the smoke off his fingers, and finally holstered it. We both grinned.
On Friday, we'd given the class work-time to fill out a "Hero Journey worksheet" that they'd been assigned for homework, which essentially asked them to start translating their own stories into a Hero Journey. I came over and asked Isaac and his gal pal if they were working. "Yes! Yes we are!" she started out quickly.
"Great! What are you coming up with?"
"Isaac is figuring out-- he's going to do something with a frog prince!" They both laughed at her quick improvisation.
"Oh you ARE? Isaac-- it's going to be your mission to find a frog prince?? Well that's great! I didn't know you wanted a PRINCE! How sweet! I honestly didn't realize you went that way, but that's great, I'm really happy for you, I'm glad you know what you're looking for!" The other kids at the table erupted into giggles, and Isaac grinned at the ribbing, turning red.
It's fun to be getting to the point where I can joke around with them. :)
3.) Some moments that indicate room for improvement: the students seem to have uncovered an Achilles Heel for Viola and me as far as clear communication on what one of us has told the students. For example, one student will ask me to go to the bathroom and I'll approve; then Viola will see the student leaving and say, "Mary sit back down please, you can go after I finish explaining this." Another student on Friday asked Viola if she could listen to her I-pod when doing independent work; Viola told her no, and then when the student asked ME later, I said that she could, so long as I could see that she was working. Crossed-wires make us BOTH look bad... Luckily, Viola's been great about recognizing when she accidently undermines what instruction I've given, and understanding when I accidently undermine hers. Bottom line-- we just need to make sure that we're on the same page!
4.) One more thing I'll mention: Viola also teaches a Swing Dancing Class for our elective, so I've been getting to Lindy Hop my heart away during 6th period. It's GREAT to end the day doing something active, and I love getting to interact with the kids on a different level. We have many of the Dance students in our English classes, and getting to be silly with them in Dance helps our interactions in English. :) Viola especially gets goofy when she's teaching the class-- she has Buddy Holly glasses frames without any glass in them that she always puts on to commence her instruction, haha! I'm happy to report that 10 years of dance training enables me to fake it well enough to be accepted by the students as a legitimate Swing Dancing T.A., although-- I'm still under suspect by some of the students who don't have me for class. On Thursday, a little guy was peering in the window of dance class and distracting some of the students. I opened the door and asked, "Where are you supposed to be right now?"
"Karen's class."
"Well, how about you go to Karen's class?"
"What...? Are you even a teacher?"
"Yes!"
"No you're not, SHE'S the teacher!" (pointing to Viola)
"I'm her intern! Now scoot yourself, get to class!"
That was my own fault I think-- I was wearing a funkier outfit that day (siiiigh, again, with the wardrobe) and looked younger. I felt tickled by the exchange though. Haha!
But I will say: dancing with teenage boys that are supposed to see me as a teacher can be so awkward!! There's usually no eye contact, plenty of B.O. and cologne, lots of sweaty palms, and lots of awkward responses to my conversational questions. It's uncomfortable, but hilarious!
Alright, that should wrap up Week 2. :) Yay for fun interactions!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
