Weekly Review

Monday: Day off!

Tuesday: Today, after class, a former student came in to say hello to me and found out I was hosting study hall. He called home to ask if he could stay and I overheard him say, “yeah, I wasn’t planning to stay, but my favorite teacher’s hosting study hall, so I can just take the bus after if that’s okay.”

Wednesday: Halfway through class, one of my students raised his hand and asked for a pencil. I asked him what happened to the pencil he’d been using. With a look of pure, painful confusion, he replied “Um. It went…. under the wall.” (I have not told them one of the walls can fold back between classrooms.)

Thursday: The highlight of my day today was discovering a student wrote “BUTTS” on the class sign-in sheet. I looked at it and, calmly, silently, tore off the bottom of the sign-in sheet before turning around. As soon as I faced the class, a boy in the back turned bright red and began hysterically giggling in his hand. Naturally, the only appropriate response I found was to take a photo of the culprit – him – holding the paper.

Friday: Today, I told one of my more rowdy students that he should be in theatre (because of how dramatic he was being in our conversation). He threw his hand to his chest, dropped his jaw, and – genuinely, I think – said, “thank you, Miss!”

Remembering the Reason

Tonight, I attended one of the school’s plays, a back-to-back showing of two one-acts. It was hilarious and silly, and as I applauded for my students and former students, it was a very serious reminder to me why I chose this career.

I need to be more aware of those reminders when they pass me by. They are so, so important.

Today was not the most fantastic day of all time. There were some pretty disheartening moments, honestly. Two of my four classes felt totally checked out of the lesson, leading to a lot of poor behavior and thus discipline, and one of my boys got suspended while already attending in-school suspension.

Then I had study hall. Two of my all-time favorite kids, both of whom are former students and currently working with special education kids in our school, asked me to wear purple for epilepsy awareness next week; one gave me a bracelet that he made for the occasion and told me, “I got you, Miss, here is your purple” so that I could represent.

These are kids I love, kids I would do anything to help. They are kids I spent a year with, who I will remember for the rest of my life.

I stayed at school after study hall, planning to grade until the play; I mainly just talked to other teachers and hung out, drinking coffee, before wandering over to the auditorium. It was wonderful. I saw former students, kids who were teeny-tiny and awkward and uncomfortable with themselves last year blossom on stage and deliver hilarious one-liners throughout the performance.

As they all lined up to bow, and I cheered and applauded with everyone, I made sure to tell a few of my former students how proud I was of them. What a cool thing it is to be able to have connections like this with kids, and see them grow into themselves. What a privilege it is – even with the stress, and the anxiety, and everything that I’m still learning how to struggle with, I had the opportunity to cheer on students that I no longer teach but still support. That’s pretty damn cool.

Weekly Review: Halfway

Monday: Before school started, I left my classroom to put in copies for later this week. Immediately, I saw a student lying on the ground. He was fine. He just wanted to lie down and stare at the sky (at 7:20am). You know. Chillin’.

Tuesday: One of my former students brought a “book of puns” that he drew. My favorite was a picture of a grandma skateboarding. The caption was Insta-Gram.

Wednesday: During my planning period, I walked across the empty campus and spotted a kid dancing to his own reflection in the window of the library. I called out to him and reminded him that it was a window, not a mirror, and that people could see him. He genuinely didn’t seem to know that.

Thursday/Friday: I’ve taken some rare time off to go to a wedding out of town, and just gotten back into town.

Finding the Balance

Year: 2

Today is a Wednesday. We’re officially halfway through the week.

Within the last week, there have been seven fights in the high school of my district. In my school, there have been two or three fights. One student has been hit by a car. Two of my students have been sitting through in-school suspension. I’ve given four lunch detentions for behavioral disruptive. Generally, students have been highly fidgety, emotional, and disruptive.

Today is a Wednesday. We’re halfway through the week.

This is not normal for my school district, but if you were to spread out all of these incidents throughout a school year, this would not be normal for the average school district’s full year. I work in a district that is in an area of town with high poverty, high trauma, and all the cyclical symptoms of high poverty and trauma within families. This, of course, drastically affects students’ health and behavior.

One of the difficulties of teaching in a school like this is that, in addition to the normal difficulties of teaching generally, you’re confronted regularly with two problems: the problem of incessant worrying and the problem of normalizing. Last year, I had the problem of incessant worrying; I’d go home, thinking about the trauma my students held, feeling guilty about my safe apartment and my healthy diet and all the things I had that my students did not.

This year, I have the problem of normalizing all of these terrible traumas. I still worry about my students and still think about how I can help them, but I have stood close to some extraordinary pain. I have seen students wait for their mothers to be possibly deported. I have seen students under the stress of extreme poverty. I have a seen a student die. I am embedded in this world, this environment, every day, and I cannot help these students to the extent that I want to help them. I regularly have to remind myself, this year, that my students’ behavior is due to these terrible traumas. I have to remind myself that not every school would see this level of trauma in children.

It feels to me that these are two ends of the same spectrum. To worry constantly, and fixate on the pain my students endure, is to drain myself of the energy I need to function well on a daily basis. To normalize it is to dull the natural emotional reactions to witnessing such a trauma. I don’t know what the healthy balance is between these two ends. I don’t know where I should be in the spectrum, or how long it will take me to get there.

Weekly Review

Monday: One of my former students came by to tell me that she misses me. It’s not a funny story, or something odd, or even particularly noteworthy, but it was the highlight of my day.

Tuesday:  In my last class today, I’d just begun reading an article to my students when my door opened and my student from another class walked in the room. She had cupcakes (I have no idea why) and was coming into my classroom (who knows why she was leaving the class she should’ve been in) to give me one. They were Halloween-themed, and the whole class groaned in jealousy when I picked out a cupcake. They asked to split it. The whole cupcake, split 30 ways.

Wednesday: Today was Halloween, which is always an odd day to teach. It’s difficult to discipline when you’re dressed as a fictional character and have a box of Eggo Waffles on your desk as an accessory.

Thursday: I read a poem to one of my classes, and because I want them to be interested, I tried to read it with as much emotion as I could. One of my students reacted to that by saying, “Miss, you should be a preacher.”

Friday:  Today we had class in the library. Halfway through the day, a student asked me at the end of class, “Miss, do you let all of your classes come to the library, or are we the only ones who go?” …. Nah, just you guys.

It’s No Hogwarts, But…

It’s little secret that I am a giant Harry Potter nerd. I grew up with the series, and in many ways consider it to be one of the most important pieces of literature to come out of the last thirty years. As a teacher, I’ve brought in a lot of my magical obsession into the classroom. There are so many different ways to incorporate this series into the classroom, but for my fellow magical teachers, here are just a few!

The House Competition:

This is one of my favorite aspects of the classroom culture I’ve built so far. I’ve named all of my classes after Hogwarts Houses; conveniently, I only have four classes, but this could be adapted easily to another classroom by sorting classes into Houses by grade level or different subject (ex. combining two classes because they’re both 10th grade). Each class competes for the House Cup every quarter, and at the end of each quarterly competition, I throw the winning class a party. I have only a few ways that each class can earn points: classes can win daily points based on good behavior, and weekly points based on who has the cleanest classroom, fewest tardies, and highest percentage of assignments turned in. Practical benefits: This allows a positive incentive for students to focus and behave in daily lessons, as well as something positive to anticipate at the end of each quarter. There’s no limit to how many times a class can win, which allows for that anticipation to continue each quarter for classes who have already won.

Wizard and Witch of the Week:

A lot of teachers have Student of the Week or Student of the Month, and this is simply a magical take on things. Every Friday, I choose two students from all of my classes, and I pick a specific reason why that student was chosen. Most of the time, those reasons are small (coming to study hall, arriving on time every day, going out of their way to ask me about assignments, etc.) because I like reminding students how little things matter in the grand scheme of becoming successful at whatever you’re doing. The entire class cheers when I call their name, and I tell them in front of the class why I felt so impressed with them that week. For the entire week following, until the next two students I choose, their names hang in frames labeled “Wizard of the Week” or “Witch of the Week.” Next to the current wizards and witches, I have a giant frame with the names of all previous wizards and witches that will stay up all year. Practical benefits: This allows for a regular, and relatively simple, way for me to reward students who are doing well. Social recognition may be a really great motivator for some kids, or really important validation for others who don’t necessarily recognize their own hard work.

The Daily Prophet

This is my student work board. I have a homemade frame (black construction paper with real newspaper underneath) for each piece of student work. Oftentimes, I highlight specific paragraphs that my students wrote, but sometimes I throw in a list of creative titles from five or six students on one board. I’ll keep those up until we turn in our next major writing assignment. Practical benefits: This is another, more prolonged, form of social recognition for students. For so much of my time in class, it feels like I focus most heavily on constructive criticism so that my students improve their writing and reading skills, so this is a fun way for me to just appreciate students’ for where they are.

 

Weekly Update: The One-Liners

Year: 2

It seems to me that, if I have to look for examples of how teaching can be such an overload of information and human interactions, the clearest example is of how much I forget. There are so many tiny interactions between my students and I that are either hilarious, strained, bizarre, or otherwise noteworthy, that by the time I reach the end of the day, I’ve forgotten most of them; in another job, any one of those interactions would become the highlight of the day, but in teaching, it’s so common that it’s almost not worth remarking upon. These are some of my favorite student one-liners of the week.

On Monday, when I gave directions on an assignment, I specifically asked students to not answer the multiple-choice questions. I repeated it several times. Too many times, really. While walking around later in the lesson, I saw that a student had finished the multiple-choice questions. I asked him why they were finished. He flipped the paper upside down, wiggled his fingers at me, and said, “You didn’t see anythiiiinng. Your glasses need cleaniiiinnng.”

In one of my classes, an eighth grader teacher walked silently in my room as I was teaching my class, and she put a post-it note on my desk. When I went over to read the note, I saw that it was from two former students: We see you while we’re in our class! We miss you! Hope you’re doing okay with your new troublemakers!

On Wednesday, a kid asked me if my necklace – a stone with a carving in it from my travels to Chile – was a “pirate necklace.”

On Thursday, I hosted study hall. Every time one of my students goofed off or got a little rowdy, I’d turn to the nearest student and joke, “do you see what I’ve got to deal with here?” By the end, I let it fall apart, and allowed my former students to draw all over my white board. It was loud. It was rowdy. Nothing was productive. A nice, polite student turned to me, and very quietly says, “Miss, you do have a lot to deal with.”

Today, in my last class, I saw a former student doing work outside of another teacher’s classroom. I snuck over to her and gave her a lollipop, then returned to my class. Ten minutes later, I glanced over at the window of my classroom and saw a sign propped up to face me: “Can her teacher have a lollipop, too, please?”

It’s the little things, really.