When I decided to start this blog, I wanted to prove to the world that home ec is still relevant, and coming back with a vengeance. It was supposed to be a light-hearted romp through the school day. But I find that the things I'm compelled to write about are much heavier.
Don't get me wrong, I go to work every day looking forward to interacting with my students, and I teach them meaningful things. I have fabulous classroom management, they are engaged and we have a mutual respect for each other. For the first time in my life, every day I feel fulfilled and euphorically happy.
However, every day also brings a handful students who are on a cliff, and they come to me to pull them back up. Today, my first kiddo went over the edge. She didn't die, but she's badly broken and just out of arm's reach. I want so desperately to help her, to make her see that she deserves so much better than what she is living.
I was talking to my mentor about the situation, and feeling so hopeless. She told me to think back to my own adolescence. "Wasn't there someone there when you were falling who tried to pull you back in, but had to watch you slip away?" It really struck me how much things have changed. I try to imagine all of the people that cared about me watching as I gave up, powerless to show me a better way. Being on the other side of it is the shittiest feeling ever, and I'm sorry to all of those that watched me stumble.
I will take comfort tonight in the fact that she texted me today and had the courage to tell me what she is doing, as horrifying as she knew it would be to me. Somewhere in her brain, as damaged and foggy as it is, my classroom is still her safe place.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2012
My Lost Boys
About a month ago, I was introduced to a group of four boys who were fresh out of jail and settling into the halfway house that falls within our district boundary. One of them started dating one of my kiddos, who I'll call Samantha, and my room became the place to be, especially before school for a couple games of dice. One of them in particular really bonded with me, I'll call him Joe, and gave me these paintings that he did while he was locked up.
2 of the other boys were actually put into my classes. One was expelled after only one day in class for shaking hands suspiciously on camera. The other was suspended yesterday for truancy, along with the other member of the group who is not actually in my class. Yesterday Joe came to my room with Samantha. He was visibly agitated, and talking about leaving. Apparently he saw "staff", i.e. the security guards that work at the halfway house, and automatically thought he was in trouble for something. He cried. He paced. And then he ran.
Today, none of my boys were at school. Samantha wasn't at school. I'm used to them bursting into my class to chat at inappropriate times just to talk, just to have someone appreciate that they're there. It was eerily quiet and orderly in my class today, and they were definitely missed. Not a single person called me Ms. Gangster.
Joe will most likely be sent back to jail for breaking the terms of his probation, as will the other boys. And the cycle continues. Do I think these boys are angels? No. They commit crimes. But why? How should we be rehabilitating them? This obviously isn't working at all. By the way, I refuse to believe that a kid who gets excited about putting icing and sprinkles on some cookies is pure evil.
Maybe I'm not supposed to be this concerned with my students' lives, I'm supposed to be able to compartmentalize it and go have a beer. This whole teacher schtick is getting old fast to everyone I know, I'm sure.
I always knew I wanted to teach, but I never expected it to be such an all-consuming passion or that I'd form the relationships that I have with my kiddos. It's difficult with these types of students to go home on the weekends and not know if you'll ever see them again come Monday. When I took the job at my school, I knew there were a lot of "at risk youth" that I would be dealing with. It looks so cut and dry on paper.
Statistically, x number of students will graduate, and x number will drop out. Truefacts. But to see in real time the decline of a bright, gifted student to dropout is excruciating. And on days like today, I feel helpless to stop it.
Today, none of my boys were at school. Samantha wasn't at school. I'm used to them bursting into my class to chat at inappropriate times just to talk, just to have someone appreciate that they're there. It was eerily quiet and orderly in my class today, and they were definitely missed. Not a single person called me Ms. Gangster.
Joe will most likely be sent back to jail for breaking the terms of his probation, as will the other boys. And the cycle continues. Do I think these boys are angels? No. They commit crimes. But why? How should we be rehabilitating them? This obviously isn't working at all. By the way, I refuse to believe that a kid who gets excited about putting icing and sprinkles on some cookies is pure evil.
Maybe I'm not supposed to be this concerned with my students' lives, I'm supposed to be able to compartmentalize it and go have a beer. This whole teacher schtick is getting old fast to everyone I know, I'm sure.
I always knew I wanted to teach, but I never expected it to be such an all-consuming passion or that I'd form the relationships that I have with my kiddos. It's difficult with these types of students to go home on the weekends and not know if you'll ever see them again come Monday. When I took the job at my school, I knew there were a lot of "at risk youth" that I would be dealing with. It looks so cut and dry on paper.
Statistically, x number of students will graduate, and x number will drop out. Truefacts. But to see in real time the decline of a bright, gifted student to dropout is excruciating. And on days like today, I feel helpless to stop it.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Saturday, September 15, 2012
My Progress Report
This week was rough. Like, crying to my mentor on two separate occasions rough. Being the only one who teaches my class, there are days when I don't have any interactions with adults. This week, the only one who came by besides my mentor was a crusty veteran who filled my room with nothing but negativity and passive aggressive digs at my credentials and ability to handle the first year of teaching. I am also completely on my own when it comes to curriculum. "You can cover as much or as little as you want. It's up to you." It sounds pretty sweet in theory, but it's too much freedom. Sometimes I don't even know where to start, and it can be overwhelming trying to figure out what these kids really should know at the end of the course. Combine all that with a parent night that kept me at school until 9:00 p.m. the night before a 2 hour before school professional development that reminded me just how much paperwork I have to do this weekend, and I hit a wall yesterday around 10:47 a.m. Oh, did I mention that my carefully planned science experiment bombed and I had a passing period to figure out what in the hell I was going to do for the rest of my classes that day?
So.
I have decided to document some of the fantastic things that happened this week. The little things that make it all worth it can get buried underneath anxiety, deadlines, and self doubt. My mentor told me she was going to get me a "book of win" so I could see in writing everything I was doing right. I guess this is the autobiographical version.
On Monday, my "too cool for school" student brought me a piece of blueberry cheesecake that she made herself. She even came by at lunch to see if I liked it. It seems like a little thing, but I was the only teacher that got any. So there.
Parent night! Usually, parent nights are brimming with over-involved parents grilling the teachers about the relevance of their course to their child's future. Ours is a little different. Out of 150 students, I had 7 bring their parents to meet me. But my time with those 7 families was amazing. Every parent said that their child couldn't stop talking about my class, and that I was their favorite teacher. I even had a student from my fashion advisory come by, and her mom thanked me for providing a place for her daughter to pursue her dream of being a fashion designer. It was a good moment.
One of my more "grumpy" students was telling me that she didn't need to learn anything because her mom was giving her the family cleaning business, and that she was probably going to drop out of school so she could start working. I told her "Yeah, I thought the same thing when I dropped out of school." "YOU dropped out of high school? But you're a teacher!" "Yup. What does that tell you about how important education is? Why do you think I chose to teach?" She told me that she felt like she knew something really personal about me, and respected me for sharing it with her. She's been a lot less grumpy. You gotta start somewhere! :)
One of the counselors came by to tell me that all week while the crazy schedule change frenzy was going on, she kept hearing how much the kids loved my class. The basketball and football players that suddenly had to be double blocked for sports said they were bummed that they had to drop my class. In fact, they all came by my room at various times to tell me that they were sorry they got transferred out. They didn't want me to think that they asked to be removed and hurt my feelings.
This is my display that's outside my door. My soapbox in nutrition is sugar sweetened beverages. It's important to me that students realize what they're putting in their bodies by actually seeing it. I've had students come in my room to ask me about the display, and I've had teachers say "Oh, you're the one with the sugar display! I'm so glad you did that, the kids need to see it!" when they find out I'm the nutrition teacher. I even had two parents take pictures of it because they liked it so much. But yesterday, I had one of the coaches tell me that during night school, he overheard a group of kids talking about it, and they talked about it as a class. He said it was actually making a difference in how they viewed some of the things they were drinking.
Are blogs supposed to be this long? I feel like they aren't. I guess I had a lot to say. Lack of adult interaction will do that to you, I suppose.
So.
I have decided to document some of the fantastic things that happened this week. The little things that make it all worth it can get buried underneath anxiety, deadlines, and self doubt. My mentor told me she was going to get me a "book of win" so I could see in writing everything I was doing right. I guess this is the autobiographical version.
On Monday, my "too cool for school" student brought me a piece of blueberry cheesecake that she made herself. She even came by at lunch to see if I liked it. It seems like a little thing, but I was the only teacher that got any. So there.
Parent night! Usually, parent nights are brimming with over-involved parents grilling the teachers about the relevance of their course to their child's future. Ours is a little different. Out of 150 students, I had 7 bring their parents to meet me. But my time with those 7 families was amazing. Every parent said that their child couldn't stop talking about my class, and that I was their favorite teacher. I even had a student from my fashion advisory come by, and her mom thanked me for providing a place for her daughter to pursue her dream of being a fashion designer. It was a good moment.
One of my more "grumpy" students was telling me that she didn't need to learn anything because her mom was giving her the family cleaning business, and that she was probably going to drop out of school so she could start working. I told her "Yeah, I thought the same thing when I dropped out of school." "YOU dropped out of high school? But you're a teacher!" "Yup. What does that tell you about how important education is? Why do you think I chose to teach?" She told me that she felt like she knew something really personal about me, and respected me for sharing it with her. She's been a lot less grumpy. You gotta start somewhere! :)
One of the counselors came by to tell me that all week while the crazy schedule change frenzy was going on, she kept hearing how much the kids loved my class. The basketball and football players that suddenly had to be double blocked for sports said they were bummed that they had to drop my class. In fact, they all came by my room at various times to tell me that they were sorry they got transferred out. They didn't want me to think that they asked to be removed and hurt my feelings.
This is my display that's outside my door. My soapbox in nutrition is sugar sweetened beverages. It's important to me that students realize what they're putting in their bodies by actually seeing it. I've had students come in my room to ask me about the display, and I've had teachers say "Oh, you're the one with the sugar display! I'm so glad you did that, the kids need to see it!" when they find out I'm the nutrition teacher. I even had two parents take pictures of it because they liked it so much. But yesterday, I had one of the coaches tell me that during night school, he overheard a group of kids talking about it, and they talked about it as a class. He said it was actually making a difference in how they viewed some of the things they were drinking.
Are blogs supposed to be this long? I feel like they aren't. I guess I had a lot to say. Lack of adult interaction will do that to you, I suppose.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Who is this "they" I keep hearing about?
There have been countless surprises that have come with my new job: the sheer madness of navigating a giant and inefficient bureaucracy, the racoons that have infested the science wing and poke their heads in to say hello during class...but I'm most surprised at the undeserved reputation that my school has in this district.
I was talking to an assistant principal about what people say when you tell them you got a job at Travis. "Oh, Lake Travis? Great!" "No, William B. Travis. On Oltorf." "Oh....They say that's a really bad school."
In fact, that's all I've heard from anybody since I got the job. (Save for my close family and friends, who, even if they were thinking it would never say it.) The AP that I was talking to said she has lost many friends over the years, because she got really tired of people constantly putting down the students she cared so much about.
I've been at training sessions and overheard teachers from other schools in the district talking some serious smack about us (students AND teachers). During the live feed "welcome back" speech from the superintendent, we were the only high school that wasn't even mentioned.
So on the first day of class, I expected some serious behavior problems. Gangs. Drugs. Violence.
What I got was 150 students who are....completely normal teenagers. Except they have the added burden of being a poor minority. They're funny, inquisitive, smart, and completely loveable. Are they struggling? Yes. I have a handful of students that don't speak any English. I have three that are about to give birth and two that just have. I have kids who work until 2 in the morning and can't stay awake through class. But they're fabulous. Every single one of them.
So who is "they"? They keep saying how horrible our school is, but I would like for them to come in my classroom and make that argument. It's not fair to the kids.
Yesterday two girls were peeking in the door to say hi to a friend. When I went over to see what they were doing this is the exchange I had:
"Miss, are you new?"
"Yes! This is my first year teaching."
"Do you like it here?"
"Of course!"
"No you don't. What is there to like about it?"
"I love my students. They're great and they make me laugh."
"Are you serious? Everybody knows the kids at Travis are all bad."
I again told them how happy I was to be there, and one of the girls said "So what class is this anyway? Is it too late to sign up? You're pretty cool."
I was talking to an assistant principal about what people say when you tell them you got a job at Travis. "Oh, Lake Travis? Great!" "No, William B. Travis. On Oltorf." "Oh....They say that's a really bad school."
In fact, that's all I've heard from anybody since I got the job. (Save for my close family and friends, who, even if they were thinking it would never say it.) The AP that I was talking to said she has lost many friends over the years, because she got really tired of people constantly putting down the students she cared so much about.
I've been at training sessions and overheard teachers from other schools in the district talking some serious smack about us (students AND teachers). During the live feed "welcome back" speech from the superintendent, we were the only high school that wasn't even mentioned.
So on the first day of class, I expected some serious behavior problems. Gangs. Drugs. Violence.
What I got was 150 students who are....completely normal teenagers. Except they have the added burden of being a poor minority. They're funny, inquisitive, smart, and completely loveable. Are they struggling? Yes. I have a handful of students that don't speak any English. I have three that are about to give birth and two that just have. I have kids who work until 2 in the morning and can't stay awake through class. But they're fabulous. Every single one of them.
So who is "they"? They keep saying how horrible our school is, but I would like for them to come in my classroom and make that argument. It's not fair to the kids.
Yesterday two girls were peeking in the door to say hi to a friend. When I went over to see what they were doing this is the exchange I had:
"Miss, are you new?"
"Yes! This is my first year teaching."
"Do you like it here?"
"Of course!"
"No you don't. What is there to like about it?"
"I love my students. They're great and they make me laugh."
"Are you serious? Everybody knows the kids at Travis are all bad."
I again told them how happy I was to be there, and one of the girls said "So what class is this anyway? Is it too late to sign up? You're pretty cool."
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