Be Calm

You’re right. It’s not fair.

It’s not fair that you’ve spent six years in a school system that is chronically broken. Where adult after adult says they care about you while in reality they would rather not fight and push and demand what they should to ensure that you are receiving an excellent education. It’s not fair that culturally, you have been told to respect people who demand it from you and show that they are the dominant ones, while 90% of your teachers were raised in a world where they automatically respected positions on authority. It’s not fair that habits that you got from your parents that they got from their parents, that run rampant in schools around the country are the behaviors with which we believe and know you cannot move forward in life. It’s not fair that you’re having to move forward with blind trust that the work you are doing will lead to better opportunities in a better life. Especially since you’ve likely never seen the fruits of the “education” your family and other people in your community received – some of which went to the best public school in the city. It’s not fair that it feels sometimes like we’re asking you to be someone that you are not. It’s not fair that the light skinned and haired kids from the suburbs have opportunities with mediocre work and sub-par instruction that are withheld from you until you prove that you are exceptional. It’s not fair that, in this day and age, people who look like you and are successful are assumed to either be extraordinary or to have played a system. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to jump over hurdles that most of your instructors could never imagine just to make it to the building every day, then you get consequences for reactions that are natural outside of our building. That you’re being told by me and every other teacher that what we’re doing for you is so important… but you know that all of your friends in neighborhood are told that their education is just as important and just as meaningful, yet they don’t get punishments for rolling their eyes. They don’t make 17% on tests. And again you have to blindly trust that we are leading you down a path that is the definition of transformational.

If I had a crystal ball, the only thing I would use it for would be to show you that it’s worth it. That the battles we’re having now will in fact set you up for success in a way that another school would not. That we’re pushing you so hard now to teach you how to be in school. That it will get easier over time. I wish you could see yourself sitting in a college classroom, putting the critical thinking skills you learned in 5th grade to good use, asking thoughtful questions and pushing your fellow classmates thinking with questions. I would want you to see that, all those years ago, your teachers were not against you. They were not the enemy. And that school wasn’t just a place you had to go every day. That it changed your life. And we cared so deeply about you that we couldn’t let it be easy and let you sit in class not finishing work.

But you’re right. It’s not fair. And my prayer for you is that when you make it through our system, you are faced with a generation for whom equal opportunities is not just a catch phrase. Where those opportunities are given to kids in classrooms, every classroom, across the country. I hope by then you can see fair.

Headlines

"I pray that enterprising educational leaders around the country take the lessons that we've learned from the finest charters and apply them to their schools and school districts. And I pray that their efforts lead to the beginning of the end for that latest incarnation of school prayer that worries me most, the prayer of families whose best hope for their children's future is the random chance of a lottery."

Took the words out of my mouth. Check it out:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dan-ross/a-charter-school-prayer-f_b_1189125.html?ref=education-reform

I promise I'll legit blog soon. :)

We Looked Like Giants

or
TFA Induction / Institute update.

Her name is Destiny. She sits on the second row of my classroom but when Kimbo isn't there (I somehow became cool enough to call Kimberly by her friends only nickname), she moves to the front row. She has little issue sitting next to our special students with autism during class, though she sometimes falls into the class habit of treating his as though he has an infectious disease. She wears a purple lumberjack / hipster-esque hoodie to school everyday to handle the subfreezing classrooms. She's in seventh grade. She reads at a fifth grade level. She hates math - when she feels like she can't understand math equations, she shuts off. You can see her eyes checkout of class and hear in her sigh when you ask her to solve a multiplication problem that she just doesn't get. But in reading class, I ask her to tell me a point of view and describe it. She proudly sounds out om-ni-scient, just like we practiced as a class. She says it means "all-knowing." "Is Kevin all-knowing," I ask her, referencing another student in the class. Kevin reads at a 3rd grade level. He is 12. "No!" several students call out. they're breaking one f our class rules, but I let it slide because last Thursday, no one answered any questions. This week generall at least 4 raise their hands every time I ask for a fact or a thought.

Destiny and the other scholars at Room 33. They're why I teach for America.

But that's my class at the middle level. They're compliant and on task... if I don't count Marco, who let's his hair swing over his eyes and refuses to read out loud in class. Or Nadia who needs to be reminded to read instead of coloring in the pictures ("I know you can do it Nadia, let's answer the questions together"). Or Ricky who says at least four times a day that this is all "too hard..." even though he can list off the step to find theme in his sleep. He can tell you how, but he can't execute. And so far, I haven't figured out how to help him. I've got 11 more days.


Teach for America so far has been a whirlwind. I've met people that I know will be some of my best friends for a long time. And I've met people who irritate the crap out of me (i.e. the girl who draws unicorns on everything. Really, why are you doing that?). And I've met a precious few, like maybe 2, that I'm not really sure I trust to teach America. I've had a million and a half conversations about politics, social activism, personal belief systems, and a ton of other things that fill the minds of the "type" that TFA attracts. Oh there is definitely a type. Idealistic, naive, smart, goal oriented, type-A. I've never sat in a room with so many people that I immediately felt camaraderie with. And now that we've all lived through three weeks of Institute (an exerience like no other), there's a bond that we'll never be able to explain to others. Yeah, it's partly about staying up until 2am to finish a lesson plan (or 3). But it's also about the feeling you get when a kid writes a summary to a story about weaving... that he's been reading for about 15 minutes... and writes about waving goodbye to a friend. Its an immeasurable sadness and a sense of frustration and definitely being overwhelmed that, like, this kid made it to 7th grade without so many basic reading comprehension skills. And then its a sense of urgency that, like, maybe we're not outstanding teachers yet, maybe we're not even really sure what we're doing on this rollercoaster out in LA, but we have a duty to every student we encounter to help them as much as possible in the time we have left together.

Angel wrote at the end of his assessment today: "I hope you like it Ms, I did the best I could" (with a few more spelling errors). It definitely made me cry, because I know he's being honest. I just want to help his best be at an ability level that will let him succeed next year in middle school. I'll be honest - I'm not entirely sure that's going to happen for Angel this summer. But I do know that everyday we're both learning a lot. That's a start.

So, yeah. That's just such a small small part of my story since I left Alabama. I love Kansas City (based on the week I was there) and am so excited to move back. I don't particularly like LA, though the weather is fantastic. Santa Monica is pretty awesome. I don't sleep nearly enough. Today was TFA Day which is why I suddenly have time to blog lol. And my English class of 17 is awesome. :) As for updating again, I shall try... but it might not be until August. There are many lesson plans to write and many assessments to grade. :)

With love,
Shelli