Even though it was pitch dark out when my alarm beeped, I woke up this morning feeling positive about the day. I had planned on going for a run, but couldn’t muster up the energy to drag myself from the warmth of my blankets.
Even so, I felt great. I knew it was supposed to be sunny and warm--in the 60s! Was it possible that winter had finally left for good??
I felt good about what I had planned to teach-- in my ELA classes, we’d be analyzing the symbolism of Juliek’s violin. In my ELA/ESL class, my students were going to complete an Anticipation Guide and have a discussion to help prepare them to read Night (this particular class is a few weeks behind my others).
In my 2nd period class, which is becoming more and more like a true honors class every day, we had an incredible discussion about the true nature of human beings and what people are capable of doing to survive. I couldn’t help but think, Am I finally getting the hang of this?
My students were visibly moved by Elie’s horrifying journey from Buna to Gliewitz in the dead of winter. At one point during the reading, I had to pause in order to stop myself from choking up. How could I read this four more times today? I figured by 9th period, my mind would be numb. Death and corpses would cease to mean anything.
The day was going just fine until 6th period. (On Tuesday, we had an amazing class. We showed our kids the first 30 minutes of a powerful documentary "Children Remember the Holocaust." Every student, even the most disengaged and frustrated, had his/her eyes glued to the screen. They were taking notes. Occasionally asking questions for clarification. Expressing their discomfort when they heard horrifying words- “And the SS caught the baby on his bayonette.” Some students looked away. F said, “Miss. I can’t watch this. It’s too sad.” They were engaged. Learning. Absorbing the horrors of the Holocaust.)
Today was different, though; the complete opposite in fact. My co-teacher (the ESL teacher) was out of the building for a field trip with the AVID students, so I was on my own. I didn’t feel on my game. At all. I thought I was prepared to teach, but soon realized I wasn’t. In fact, I couldn’t even remember what we did the day before! How could I forget?
About ten students out of 25 were absent. This should be no problem. I can handle 15. I was wrong.
From the start of class, it was obvious to me that 6th period would resist me today. Most of them looked half asleep. Some wandered in late. It took about 5 minutes to get them to take out their binders and read the Do Now.
After a valiant--albeit failed-- effort to wake them up (suggesting jumping jacks, push ups, etc.), class started. But, no one wanted to do anything. Anything. What is going on here?! Even the best students--students who are on point ALL the time-- are messing around!
Finally, they settled down a little and wrote independently for about 10 minutes. After, we reviewed the rules of a class discussion (which we had JUST taught them a week ago).
Discussion on the nature of humanity commenced. It was terrible. Just terrible. What was going on?
Students were discussing the statement: In times of trouble, a person will save himself/ herself first. A thought-provoking statement. Or so I thought. I asked for volunteers to agree or disagree and explain their response. Nothing. No hands. No sign any student was even listening.
After staring at them in disbelief, I decided that perhaps they didn’t quite understand the statement. So, to clarify, I gave them a scenario.
Me: “OK. So. What if you and your best friend were approached by a bunch of gang members who had knives. They start hassling you. Giving you trouble. You decide to make a run for it--”
I’m cut off.
P. yells, laughing: “--HAHA those PUSSIES!”
Students laugh with her and encourage her.
Me, shocked but calm: “Are you serious P?”
(P. is one of my favorite students. Until today, I had never heard any vulgarity spew from her mouth. I was-- to say the least-- appalled by her behavior. Later, I stopped her during the fire drill and asked her what was going on. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t respond. I began to wonder if her outburst had to do with my co-teacher's absence. P. respects her.)
Not wanting to pay her any more attention, I continue with my scenario (which was proving to not serve much of a point...)
Me, trying to be dramatic: “--but you’re faster than your friend. Your friend starts falling behind. What do you do? Keep running? Go back for your friend and risk getting hurt?”
A. raises his hand. Wow. A hand. No curses. Finally. Someone has some life today!
A., enthusiastically: “Obviously I’d go back for my friend! How could you just leave him there to possibly get jumped or stabbed? WHO DOES THAT?”
Without raising her hand, F. shouts out: “Fuck that shit.”
Again. Really? What is going ON in here today?
Me: “Excuse me, F.? Is that any way to respond to your classmate who has just shared his opinion?”
F., knowing she was in the wrong: “Oh, sorry.”
(F. has the tendency to over apologize to the point where her apologies are completely fake. It’s almost as if she’s making a mockery of me and my rules.)
The unproductive and unaccountable discussion continued for about 3 more minutes, even after I told the students if they couldn’t start following our rules, we’d have to quit.
After the 5th time hearing “fuck” I called it quits. I told my kids they had to answer the discussion reflection questions silently and independently and that I’d be having a serious conversation my co-teacher about their behavior and their inability to follow the rules of a discussion.
They grumbled and began writing. Two minutes later, fire alarm. They shouted their approval. And suddenly, class was over.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Highlight
I rarely-- RARELY-- have anything to brag about when it comes to teaching, but I thought I'd share something that left me smiling all Friday night.
On Friday, one of my favorite students, I, sat down with me and her mother to discuss her progress in my class.
First, some background on I. She's a former English Language Learner. She scored a 3 or 4 on her 8th grade ELA test (according to the 8th grade state test, that's proficient). She was in my "on track" 9th grade writing class. At the beginning of the year, she was probably one of my worst writers. She struggled with organization and adding details as well as just writing in complete sentences.
I is incredibly motivated. She's a delight to have in class. Always smiling. Always contributing. Always asking difficult questions. She wants to improve in any way that she can. By the end of last year, it became clear to me that I's writing had improved significantly. Her final paper was one of the best. Her writing was clear, detailed, organized, and it had a real voice.
This year, she continues to improve.
OK, back to the meeting.
After basically telling her mom the above "improvement" story about I, her mom said, in broken English, "my daughter talks about you all the time... Ms. Brady this, Ms. Brady that... She loves your class."
I thought, Am I really hearing this? A student actually talks about what we learn in class at home? AMAZING!
I was speechless, and all I could do was smile.
On Friday, one of my favorite students, I, sat down with me and her mother to discuss her progress in my class.
First, some background on I. She's a former English Language Learner. She scored a 3 or 4 on her 8th grade ELA test (according to the 8th grade state test, that's proficient). She was in my "on track" 9th grade writing class. At the beginning of the year, she was probably one of my worst writers. She struggled with organization and adding details as well as just writing in complete sentences.
I is incredibly motivated. She's a delight to have in class. Always smiling. Always contributing. Always asking difficult questions. She wants to improve in any way that she can. By the end of last year, it became clear to me that I's writing had improved significantly. Her final paper was one of the best. Her writing was clear, detailed, organized, and it had a real voice.
This year, she continues to improve.
OK, back to the meeting.
After basically telling her mom the above "improvement" story about I, her mom said, in broken English, "my daughter talks about you all the time... Ms. Brady this, Ms. Brady that... She loves your class."
I thought, Am I really hearing this? A student actually talks about what we learn in class at home? AMAZING!
I was speechless, and all I could do was smile.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Texas here I come...
During the last week of school this year (aka. proctoring and English Regents exam grading week...) I will be in Dallas for AVID training!
Not exactly sure about the details of the training, but I am thrilled.
AVID stands for Advancement Via Individual Determination. Basically, it's a program that targets 'middle of the road' students--who are capable of excelling in rigorous courses but are falling short of their potential--to prepare them for success at four year colleges. A number of my students are AVID students, and it's incredible how much they've changed as students this year in terms of organization, motivation, study habits, and questioning. They've taken ownership of their education.
I'll be trained in how to incorporate the AVID curriculum, which is driven by writing, inquiry, collaboration, and reading-- into my ELA classroom.
More details to come!
Not exactly sure about the details of the training, but I am thrilled.
AVID stands for Advancement Via Individual Determination. Basically, it's a program that targets 'middle of the road' students--who are capable of excelling in rigorous courses but are falling short of their potential--to prepare them for success at four year colleges. A number of my students are AVID students, and it's incredible how much they've changed as students this year in terms of organization, motivation, study habits, and questioning. They've taken ownership of their education.
I'll be trained in how to incorporate the AVID curriculum, which is driven by writing, inquiry, collaboration, and reading-- into my ELA classroom.
More details to come!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Parent Teacher Conferences
So, 15 parents met with me tonight. I have 130 students.
About half of those meetings consisted of me telling parents how amazing their children are (ie. 90s students. Driven. Motivated. Participators. The students who make me love my job...).
The other half of the meetings consisted of me telling parents their children need to apply themselves (ie. they're 70s students. Smart. Talented. Don't do any work. The students who frustrate me more than anything....).
No parents of failing students.
No parents of students who wreak havoc in the classroom.
No parents of students who are seriously struggling with reading and writing.
Although I LOVE telling parents that their children are amazing human beings (well-deserved compliments for them...), I need to talk to parents of failing students, students who are years behind, and students who disrupt class.
Hopefully tomorrow afternoon's conference will bring a few of those.
About half of those meetings consisted of me telling parents how amazing their children are (ie. 90s students. Driven. Motivated. Participators. The students who make me love my job...).
The other half of the meetings consisted of me telling parents their children need to apply themselves (ie. they're 70s students. Smart. Talented. Don't do any work. The students who frustrate me more than anything....).
No parents of failing students.
No parents of students who wreak havoc in the classroom.
No parents of students who are seriously struggling with reading and writing.
Although I LOVE telling parents that their children are amazing human beings (well-deserved compliments for them...), I need to talk to parents of failing students, students who are years behind, and students who disrupt class.
Hopefully tomorrow afternoon's conference will bring a few of those.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Tuesdays
Incompetence infuriates me.
Why is it that-- for the most part-- every PD ("professional development") meeting is an absolute waste of time? (Every Tuesday afternoon...)
I am confident I could become a better teacher (in terms of instruction, management, investment, differentiation, you name it...) if we had effective "professional development" meetings.
What is the solution to this problem?
Get rid of pointless, unproductive "professional development" meetings that only waste teachers' time (60 hours per year, give or take) and school resources. Revamp the system and means of training teachers to become effective instructors. Model effective teaching strategies that could actually help teachers make significant gains with their students. (And not to mention, help them become better teachers...)
But with this current system-- flawed at its core-- how?
Why is it that-- for the most part-- every PD ("professional development") meeting is an absolute waste of time? (Every Tuesday afternoon...)
I am confident I could become a better teacher (in terms of instruction, management, investment, differentiation, you name it...) if we had effective "professional development" meetings.
What is the solution to this problem?
Get rid of pointless, unproductive "professional development" meetings that only waste teachers' time (60 hours per year, give or take) and school resources. Revamp the system and means of training teachers to become effective instructors. Model effective teaching strategies that could actually help teachers make significant gains with their students. (And not to mention, help them become better teachers...)
But with this current system-- flawed at its core-- how?
Monday, March 15, 2010
The fire alarm
A lovely student pulled the fire alarm during the first five minutes of 8th period while I was in the middle of explaining tomorrow's open notebook quiz on Night.
Meanwhile, it's about 40 and drizzly outside. My coat is downstairs. My students begin screaming, as if school were just released for summer vacation. As we begin evacuating the building, I notice at least 15 students attempting to open their lockers to grab their jackets.
"Ladies, seriously? Would you stop to get your jacket if the building were really on fire?"
"Ummm duh, Miss! The rain will ruin my hair."
Duh. Why didn't I think of that?
We evacuate the building. Teachers are trying to crowd control and usher students onto the sidewalk. Finally, the signal to re-enter the building.
Great. How am I supposed to win my class back (when I hadn't even won them yet??)
Students re-enter class, complaining of course.
"Miss, my hands are cold, so I can't write."
"Sorry, D, my hands are cold too. We just have to deal with it, OK?"
Student grumbles and sits down.
"Miss. Is the building on fire? It smells like burning hair and gasoline."
"No, S, the building is not on fire."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
Finally. Students re-seated. Notebooks out. Pens in hand. Taking notes on today's new vocabulary. We get through reading the words in context, defining them, and practicing writing the words in sentences.
Fire alarm. Again.
Really? Not again. I just managed to settle them down!
Students scream. Again. This is getting laughable. We re-evacuate the building. Now it's raining. Lovely! The fire truck turns the corner and the firemen nod at us. I nod back, sort of smiling and rolling my eyes. Students GO NUTS, thinking I have a crush on Mr. Joe Fireman.
Unbelievable. Can't anyone nod and smile anymore without people assuming you are attracted to that person?
Ten minutes later. The go-ahead to return to the building.
Students sit down. Bell rings. 8th period ends.
All I can do is laugh. Hopefully they'll remember what's on the quiz.
Meanwhile, it's about 40 and drizzly outside. My coat is downstairs. My students begin screaming, as if school were just released for summer vacation. As we begin evacuating the building, I notice at least 15 students attempting to open their lockers to grab their jackets.
"Ladies, seriously? Would you stop to get your jacket if the building were really on fire?"
"Ummm duh, Miss! The rain will ruin my hair."
Duh. Why didn't I think of that?
We evacuate the building. Teachers are trying to crowd control and usher students onto the sidewalk. Finally, the signal to re-enter the building.
Great. How am I supposed to win my class back (when I hadn't even won them yet??)
Students re-enter class, complaining of course.
"Miss, my hands are cold, so I can't write."
"Sorry, D, my hands are cold too. We just have to deal with it, OK?"
Student grumbles and sits down.
"Miss. Is the building on fire? It smells like burning hair and gasoline."
"No, S, the building is not on fire."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
Finally. Students re-seated. Notebooks out. Pens in hand. Taking notes on today's new vocabulary. We get through reading the words in context, defining them, and practicing writing the words in sentences.
Fire alarm. Again.
Really? Not again. I just managed to settle them down!
Students scream. Again. This is getting laughable. We re-evacuate the building. Now it's raining. Lovely! The fire truck turns the corner and the firemen nod at us. I nod back, sort of smiling and rolling my eyes. Students GO NUTS, thinking I have a crush on Mr. Joe Fireman.
Unbelievable. Can't anyone nod and smile anymore without people assuming you are attracted to that person?
Ten minutes later. The go-ahead to return to the building.
Students sit down. Bell rings. 8th period ends.
All I can do is laugh. Hopefully they'll remember what's on the quiz.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Sisters
A funny little story...
As I mentioned in my previous post, my school put on Othello last Friday night. A TON of my students were there. My girlfriend decided to join me for the performance. We had a great time. (The story gets better...)
On Monday morning during 2nd period, student A exclaims excitedly, "Ms. Brady, your sister! She looks exactly like you!"
Hmm. Now, to my knowledge, A has never actually met my sister. So, I start wondering. The first thing to come to my mind is-- does she really think my girlfriend and I look like sisters? (Mind you... my girlfriend is half black...)
Me: "Ummmm.... Really, A??"
A: "Yes! You look like identical twins!!"
Now I was really confused.
Me: "A, you saw her Friday night?"
A: "Yes!"
Now I was really, really confused.
Me: "At Othello?"
The moment of truth...
A: "No! At John Philip Sousa! She was walking toward me and I thought 'Is that Ms. Brady? Wow. It must be.'"
Me: "OH. That makes sense..."
OK. Phew.
Turns out, A was visiting her old middle school (where Kristin currently teaches) and saw Kristin walking to the train. A swears she couldn't tell us a part.
Perhaps because we're both white? short? have brown hair? Who knows.
As I mentioned in my previous post, my school put on Othello last Friday night. A TON of my students were there. My girlfriend decided to join me for the performance. We had a great time. (The story gets better...)
On Monday morning during 2nd period, student A exclaims excitedly, "Ms. Brady, your sister! She looks exactly like you!"
Hmm. Now, to my knowledge, A has never actually met my sister. So, I start wondering. The first thing to come to my mind is-- does she really think my girlfriend and I look like sisters? (Mind you... my girlfriend is half black...)
Me: "Ummmm.... Really, A??"
A: "Yes! You look like identical twins!!"
Now I was really confused.
Me: "A, you saw her Friday night?"
A: "Yes!"
Now I was really, really confused.
Me: "At Othello?"
The moment of truth...
A: "No! At John Philip Sousa! She was walking toward me and I thought 'Is that Ms. Brady? Wow. It must be.'"
Me: "OH. That makes sense..."
OK. Phew.
Turns out, A was visiting her old middle school (where Kristin currently teaches) and saw Kristin walking to the train. A swears she couldn't tell us a part.
Perhaps because we're both white? short? have brown hair? Who knows.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Let's try this again...
Wow. I am terrible. Pathetic. So, I've been experiencing some sort of writer's block for about 4 months now. But... I'm determined to overcome this dry spell of words about teaching.
Brief.. BRIEF update....
I'm currently teaching Elie Wiesel's memoir Night to my sophomores. They're engulfed by his poignant story. Enraged by the apathy and indifference of bystanders. Upset that the Allies didn't do more to stop the Nazis from carrying out their final solution plan. It's been an enlightening and moving experience for me.
My school put on a tragi-comedic (yes, comedic) performance of Othello last Friday. A sell out show, too! Let's just say it was a HIT. A number of my students last year had lead roles and they were fantastic. I can't wait to teach it again this spring.
More posts coming soon...
Brief.. BRIEF update....
I'm currently teaching Elie Wiesel's memoir Night to my sophomores. They're engulfed by his poignant story. Enraged by the apathy and indifference of bystanders. Upset that the Allies didn't do more to stop the Nazis from carrying out their final solution plan. It's been an enlightening and moving experience for me.
My school put on a tragi-comedic (yes, comedic) performance of Othello last Friday. A sell out show, too! Let's just say it was a HIT. A number of my students last year had lead roles and they were fantastic. I can't wait to teach it again this spring.
More posts coming soon...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)