Week One

And sadly, that's the most creative title I can think of at this point. After three days of student teaching-- wow, was it really only three days??-- I am plumb tuckered out.

I'm loving it, so that's a plus-- I'm choosing to equate the feeling with the same fatigue you'd feel after doing some fabulous sporting event, or, I don't know, throwing some incredibly large pot on a pottery wheel. Don't ask me to explain my analogies. The justifications would be paltry at best right now.

Really though-- after the first day, I felt so pumped and excited, I had to go power-walk around Greenlake just to release the excess energy. It was a fairly mundane first day-- name games, a lecture on class expectations, some get-to-know-you busy work... And the kids came in with big attitudes and chips on their shoulders, but still, I LOVED it all. All day long, I was thinking of ideas of what I could do on my first day NEXT year, and I looked at the kids and thought, "You're such punks, and you're figuring out who you are, and you're trying to be big and tough when you're really just young and confused, and I love you!"

Yesterday, I got to teach a mini-lesson on public speaking, using theater techniques I'd learned on projection and articulation. The kids were engaged, and enjoying themselves, and genuinely seemed to be getting into it. 4th period even started clapping for me when I turned the lesson back over to Viola! That made me feel great, and feel good about my progress with the students-- I felt like I was really starting to establish a rapport with them, and that they were already seeing me as a co-teacher, someone to respect and look up to. FABULOUS.

I told that to my University Coordinator when he came to meet with Viola and me today (read: the man who grades me), and he said with a knowing grin, "Well. You're still in the honeymoon period. The kids are generally on their best behavior the first few weeks-- and then they start testing you. They WILL test you."

Sure enough, 5th period today took me through the ringer.

It had been an eventful morning already-- we hadn't done the "Mini-lit" activity this week yet, and Viola decided that it would be a good Friday activity. She asked me if I wanted to teach it, and I eagerly agreed. Teaching almost a whole lesson already? Sure, yes, awesome! Why not? I was ready to bust my chops-- and if I failed, she was there to catch me, right?

I went in guns a blazin'-- but... 2nd period fell a little flat. They didn't seem to "get" the activity, and had trouble getting started when I had them work independently. Viola and I discussed the lesson briefly in between classes, and I changed some things up for 3rd period. Thanks to the modifications, 3rd went way better and I felt proud of myself for recognizing ways to alter a lesson based on indicated needs. "So ready to be a teacher," I thought. "Gold star intern," I thought.

I spent 4th period-- the FUN period (4th period kids rock)-- talking with my University Coordinator who will henceforth be known as MATT. I caught the end of 4th though, and was warmly greeted by some of the students. "Fabulous future teacher," I thought. "Gold star intern," I thought.

And then came 5th.

5th has the cards stacked against it already: it's the last academic class of the day, and the kids come in tired and unfocused. Today is also Friday which doubled the odds, and on top of that, it's just a more challenging group of kids. There's a fair amount in that class who have attention issues, behavior issues, or some combination of both. Early on, one of the kids acted up and Viola took him out in the hall to work by himself, and to give him a "talk." That left me alone with them.

Alone.

No problem. Right? No problem? I walked around as the kids brainstormed evocative words to use in their six-word-phrases, and checked K's paper. When "K" had introduced herself on the first day, she'd followed it up with, "I like to piss teachers off." Earlier in class, when Viola had gone over some of my six-word examples, she'd read the more abstract one: "Barefoot walking and pink cloud climbing." K had snorted and commented, "It sounds like she's high on E." Now, as I approached her and looked over what she'd come up with, I tried to be positive.

"Neon blue... and unicorns. Nice K, sounds like a... happy place. Those are very positive images." She gave me a long hard stare and said, "You were a good kid in high-school, weren't you?"
"Yup," I said. "Why do you ask?"
"You have NO idea what this is talking about."
I looked at her. "I'm choosing to believe you have good intentions K. I can guess what that might be about."
She laughed again and made a comment about me to the other students, then went over to show them her words. "K, I think you'll work better if you're sitting at your desk," I said with a note of desperation, but she ignored me and went back only when Viola came back into the classroom.

Viola noticed. "You look tired!" she said.
I told her in a whisper what had happened, and that it had stressed me out. She marched over to K. "Let me see what you wrote, K." She looked. "Alright, you're coming with me to the office."
"What'd I do?! What'd I DO?!"

... And once more, I was left alone with 5th. The class didn't fall apart, but it also didn't hold itself together very well. At one point, the whole class was talking when a group was getting ready to present, and I called out, "So we've talked about what it means to be a good presenter right? So what are we going to be right now...?" One kid called out, "Good LISTENERS," but that was the only response. Everyone else kept right on talking.

I thought to myself with a panic, "They're not listening to me. They're not respecting me. I'm the stupid intern. I'm the baby-sitter that they don't have to listen to. Crap. CRAP!"

I'm being hard on myself here: most interns don't even touch teaching the first couple weeks, and I would say that my teaching efforts went off ahead of the curve, overall. I wanted to take a big bite, and Viola let me. It was an ice cold splash of reality this afternoon, and I'm guessing that will only intensify as the year progresses.

But, I learned a new acronym today from some of the other new teachers: Q-TIP. Quit Taking It Personally.

In K's case, it turns out she has a miserable home-life-- which is the situation for a lot of these kids, unfortunately. K doesn't do drugs herself, we don't think-- but is around users constantly. She told the nurse that she wants to get a job as soon as she turns 16, just because she wants to be away from home. Her parental support is little to none, and she's doing whatever she can to gain some control of her chaotic life-- including taking it from her teachers. The nurse suggested I approach her with empathy, and understanding-- resisting her bait, and instead aiming for a heart-to-heart.

That's for K, then.

But how about M? How I should handle my intelligent, amicable goth kid with the Nazi obsession and anti-semitic sympathies? How about KV, the sweet Asian kid who suggested in one of his first essays that his mom has recently passed away? What about spazzy A, the hyperactive tiny blond boy, who's clearly intelligent, and clearly undiagnosed? And all the kids who wrote in the "What I hope to achieve" essays that they wanted to get a job to help their mom pay the bills, or that they wanted to get grades higher than D's this year, or that they wanted to help their moms after work so that she wasn't so tired-- with no mention of a dad? How do I approach them?

The kids at my school are not an easy bunch-- they're colorful, and interesting, and troubled, and often very poor. They're full of potential, but surrounded by people telling them that they CAN'T. Their poetry is incredible, yet their focus and study habits are a head-shaking sigh.

And they will be an amazing group to learn from.

A friend told me yesterday that, "There are no bad kids. There are NO bad kids. True, there are some GLF's (goofy little fu**ers), but there are no BAD kids," and I believe her. This year is going to wipe me out, and leave me reeling, but hopefully it will leave me a lot, lot wiser.

And even though I'm suspending any more self-awarded gold stars, I'm cheered by Viola's enthusiastic encouragement of me, and of the fun that I've had already, and the kids themselves-- because they really are cool and quirky, they're such great punks. I'm also cheered by prayer. It felt really good to remember prayer on the drive home, and to just lift up this girl K. Help her with her home stuff God. Help us have a really great conversation at some point. Help her be brave.

So? Anyway. That's the story so far. Based on how I've crashed into bed the last two nights, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up daily blogging, but I'll continue to keep you posted. :)