As I walked down the hallway during my prep period, all I could hear was shouting. Teachers shouting at the kids to be quiet, to do their work, shouting that “y’all are getting on my nerves.”
One teacher tells me that yelling is the only thing these kids know. I don’t doubt that whatsoever.
In my class, I do not yell at the children. #1) It takes too much energy on my part and #2) I believe that these children need to learn to deal with consequences other than referrals, suspensions, and an adult’s yelling. Instead of shouting for them to be quiet, I raise my hand. They are then supposed to raise their hands and stop talking. So far, it’s been relatively successful.
On Friday, my students took a diagnostic test. My 3rd period was giving me a massive headache. They kept talking, even though I set very clear expectations that I needed the room to silent. A kept turning to talk to a girl behind him, then asking to go to the bathroom, etc. These kids just would not listen to anything I said. When they finally went to lunch, I called my mom, telling her I was about to go crazy, that these kids would not listen to me, even when I kept going through my consequences list.
After lunch, they returned to finish their test. One of the hall monitors brought in A. The entire time, I heard the coach tell him to watch out, he’s already got one referral under his belt.
Coach drags A into the room.
“This boy givin’ you trouble, Ms. Chen?”
“Well…we’re working on it,” I reply.
“If you need anything, you tell me, all right? You sure you don’t want me to take care of anything?”
“I’ll let you know if I do; thanks, Coach.”
Coach then steps into the room, where A has now turned back to the girl behind him to flirt some more.
“Boy! I’m telling you!” Coach barks. “You better watch it, or you’re going to end up in jail! And not even juvy, because you’re too old!” A stops talking.
He then points at some other kids in the class that are socializing. “You too! Now y’all better shut up and do what you’re told!”
After he leaves, the class has most definitely quieted down.
I am positively seething. I have no idea how to handle this.
“Ok, everyone needs to finish their diagnostics,” I say feebly as the bell rings. The rest of the 30 minutes are pretty much silent.
Before they turn in their tests, I raise my hand for attention.
“I’m going to be straight up with y’all about two things. One, I am very disappointed in you.” I give them a quick lecture about talking, and how they need to follow direction and be mature. “Two, I will be completely honest about something – I did not appreciate how Coach came in and spoke to you guys like that. You guys do not deserve to be spoken to like that. You may have noticed that my way of disciplining and getting attention is a little different than what the other teachers do. That is because I believe that you all are mature adults, and therefore you deserve to be treated like an adult – but you need to prove to me that you are mature, and that you can handle that type of treatment. I am here so you can learn – I am not here to yell at you, to discipline you – I am here to teach you. I want to treat you all with the respect you deserve, but you need to give me reason to do so.”
A finally makes eye contact with me.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Horrible day...but this is what keeps me going.
I asked my students to write an identity poem, modeled after George Lyon's "Where I'm From." Here are some of the fantastic ones.
"Where I'm From" by J.B.
I am from Mexico,
From the proud and rough land.
I am from the people who never give up,
And from the people who work hard everyday.
(proud, hardworking, each one proud and happy
Of the country and where they came from.)
I am from the strong and green land,
Where the air smells sweet and makes your
Soul fly freely all through out the sky.
I’m from the sweet tasting corm, and the hot spicy tamales.
I’m from the playful and troublemaking kids,
From the traditional and beautiful songs of a
Wonderful land from which I came from.
I’m from Chihuahua and from the beautiful,
Colorful tradition, and from the land that
Keeps you warn and feeling happy.
I’m from the land, from which the great hills,
And mountains are made.
I’m from the great land that is Mexico,
The land that I will never forget, and the land
From which I get my strength from,
The land that burns deep into my soul, and the land…
From which I came from.
"Untitled" by D.G.
I am from the
Quiet during the day
And noisy at night
I am from no one carries change
But everyone carries a light.
I am from sand on my shoes
From the park down the street.
I am from sizzlin’ links, baked chicken
And other types of meat.
I’m from “boys get up it’s 7 o’clock”
And getting dressed, and wearing socks.
I’m from block parties every Sunday
From school since 8:30, where
There’s all work and no play.
I’m from chillin at the kiest
And walking t’Ds and having a feast.
I’mf rom sneaking out real late
And waking up the same.
I’mf rom leaving red bird skate
And going home playing the game.
I’m from bumpy streets so
You really can’t drift.
But most of all I’m from Oakcliff.
"Where I'm From" by Y.S.
I am from Shreveport
From loud music and boring summers
I am from the crowds on the boardwalk
(The smell of crawfish, budan, and gumbo)
I am from casinos and loud talking
The smell of cigarettes or cigars
As if I was there today.
I from my grandma’s home-made
Corn bread, pork chops, and green beans
I am from the smart kids the quiet kids
And the true gangstas
I am from “Gurl stop hitting that boy” and
“Yar come here.”
I am from Dallas, TX
Hot summers and cold winters
With prostitutes sitting on the corner
I am like a fly on the wall
I sit there, observe and move along.
I’m my room is a journal
In it I keep my thoughts
A log of personal memories and dreams
I couldn’t let go of.
I am from the moments
Rise before I shine
Like a star without a light.
"Where I'm From" by J.B.
I am from Mexico,
From the proud and rough land.
I am from the people who never give up,
And from the people who work hard everyday.
(proud, hardworking, each one proud and happy
Of the country and where they came from.)
I am from the strong and green land,
Where the air smells sweet and makes your
Soul fly freely all through out the sky.
I’m from the sweet tasting corm, and the hot spicy tamales.
I’m from the playful and troublemaking kids,
From the traditional and beautiful songs of a
Wonderful land from which I came from.
I’m from Chihuahua and from the beautiful,
Colorful tradition, and from the land that
Keeps you warn and feeling happy.
I’m from the land, from which the great hills,
And mountains are made.
I’m from the great land that is Mexico,
The land that I will never forget, and the land
From which I get my strength from,
The land that burns deep into my soul, and the land…
From which I came from.
"Untitled" by D.G.
I am from the
Quiet during the day
And noisy at night
I am from no one carries change
But everyone carries a light.
I am from sand on my shoes
From the park down the street.
I am from sizzlin’ links, baked chicken
And other types of meat.
I’m from “boys get up it’s 7 o’clock”
And getting dressed, and wearing socks.
I’m from block parties every Sunday
From school since 8:30, where
There’s all work and no play.
I’m from chillin at the kiest
And walking t’Ds and having a feast.
I’mf rom sneaking out real late
And waking up the same.
I’mf rom leaving red bird skate
And going home playing the game.
I’m from bumpy streets so
You really can’t drift.
But most of all I’m from Oakcliff.
"Where I'm From" by Y.S.
I am from Shreveport
From loud music and boring summers
I am from the crowds on the boardwalk
(The smell of crawfish, budan, and gumbo)
I am from casinos and loud talking
The smell of cigarettes or cigars
As if I was there today.
I from my grandma’s home-made
Corn bread, pork chops, and green beans
I am from the smart kids the quiet kids
And the true gangstas
I am from “Gurl stop hitting that boy” and
“Yar come here.”
I am from Dallas, TX
Hot summers and cold winters
With prostitutes sitting on the corner
I am like a fly on the wall
I sit there, observe and move along.
I’m my room is a journal
In it I keep my thoughts
A log of personal memories and dreams
I couldn’t let go of.
I am from the moments
Rise before I shine
Like a star without a light.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Halfway through my first week...
Today was a day of small successes and big realizations. I think it has finally hit me how much work there is to do here. When I was chatting with another TFAer last night about my mess of a school, he told me, “You’re in the show. That’s what TFA is about.”
I guess I am in the show. And it’s a show that I’m only starting to get the gist of.
I provide 100% of my own supplies. The school has given me absolutely nothing. Each time I inquire about copy paper, the supply closet is “locked” or the office manager is gone, or they “will get some up there soon.” This morning I ended up bringing my own meager stash of paper into the copy room. I ran into a math teacher there. He was carrying a brand new ream of paper.
“Mr. O! Where did you get that paper from?”
He gave me a Look.
“Oh…you brought it yourself, didn’t you?” He nodded.
Ok, so that’s the way things are going to work.
Today we were finally on regular (block) scheduling. I had an amazing day teaching my raising-of-the-hand/quiet-down procedure. I have these kids quieting down without my even having to speak. I also implemented a class rewards system, finally giving my rowdy 3rd period a reason to quiet down. I also think I made a good choice investing the students so much during my first day talks.
Although my extremely chatty and rowdy 3rd period dampened my glee after period 1, I was still feeling pretty positive about my control as the instructional leader of my classroom.
Then 4th period comes. This woman (who I have only seen a couple of times) comes into my classroom, does not explain why she is here or who she is, but sits down. My class is already overcrowded because 7 extra students have shown up. I assume she’s there to work with my sheltered learners.
Pretty much, she spends the entire class barking orders at the children, repeating all my directions, not even giving them a chance to do it before she calls, “Boy, do your work!” She has the most mincing, clipped voice I have ever heard.
At one point, I realized I ran out of syllabi, so I went to get some more out of the binder. She barks at from across the room, with absolutely no mark of politeness, “You got more of those sheets? Those kids don’t got any.”
And yes, I am supposed to be teaching these kids how to treat others respectfully and speak academically. I have spent at least 40 minutes stressing to them that they are capable of achieving, that they are not dumb, that I will accept no excuses because I know they are smart. But when this woman comes into my room, with a demeaning tone (intentional or not), treating my kids like they are incapable of anything (and I am almost fairly certain I could have handled the behavioral problems – they were no less rowdy than my rowdy 3rd period)…what’s a TFAer to do?
And I have kids in the teacher’s lounge, who explain (when I gently remind them that the vending machines are for teachers only) that they are getting a drink for their teacher. I see kids coming into the teacher’s lounge to pick up/heat lunches for their teachers. I overheard a teacher who complimented a pregnant student’s weight gain, saying it was “happy fat.”
I’m sorry, but when is having a child at age 16 happy? Maybe it’s just me.
Needless to say, my spirits were pretty dampened at the end of the day. Yet there was one gem of a moment today that I drew hope from.
D walks into my 3rd period class with this sort of aloof look. I mentally mark him with a caution sign – possible trouble. But as I stress the fact that I believe that they are smart despite what others may say, that I am only there for them and for no other reason, I can see his eyes watching me. He gets drawn in.
He is the first one to come back from lunch.
“Hey D, welcome back.”
“Hi, Miss Chen.”
I’m setting up for class. We chat a little bit – he tells me that he plays the tuba and is in band. There is a brief pause.
“Miss, I can’t write.”
I look up.
“D, I do not believe that. Remember, there is no can’t. No excuses, remember?”
He thinks and clarifies himself.
“Ok, I mean I can write, but I’m not good at it.”
“D, it’s ok. We’re going to work on that. I will help you. That’s what I’m here for.”
He sits down.
“Yeah, Miss Chen, I really want to down on my writing this year.”
“Ok, D, we’re going to work on it.”
I have asked them to write an identity poem with some sensory imagery. D raises his hand for me to read his paper. He has the scrawl of a five year-old. He writes about growing up in the ghetto, like most of my students did. The spelling is horrendous and I can only imagine what his diagnostic will look like.
But he has the want. And for now, that is all I need.
I guess I am in the show. And it’s a show that I’m only starting to get the gist of.
I provide 100% of my own supplies. The school has given me absolutely nothing. Each time I inquire about copy paper, the supply closet is “locked” or the office manager is gone, or they “will get some up there soon.” This morning I ended up bringing my own meager stash of paper into the copy room. I ran into a math teacher there. He was carrying a brand new ream of paper.
“Mr. O! Where did you get that paper from?”
He gave me a Look.
“Oh…you brought it yourself, didn’t you?” He nodded.
Ok, so that’s the way things are going to work.
Today we were finally on regular (block) scheduling. I had an amazing day teaching my raising-of-the-hand/quiet-down procedure. I have these kids quieting down without my even having to speak. I also implemented a class rewards system, finally giving my rowdy 3rd period a reason to quiet down. I also think I made a good choice investing the students so much during my first day talks.
Although my extremely chatty and rowdy 3rd period dampened my glee after period 1, I was still feeling pretty positive about my control as the instructional leader of my classroom.
Then 4th period comes. This woman (who I have only seen a couple of times) comes into my classroom, does not explain why she is here or who she is, but sits down. My class is already overcrowded because 7 extra students have shown up. I assume she’s there to work with my sheltered learners.
Pretty much, she spends the entire class barking orders at the children, repeating all my directions, not even giving them a chance to do it before she calls, “Boy, do your work!” She has the most mincing, clipped voice I have ever heard.
At one point, I realized I ran out of syllabi, so I went to get some more out of the binder. She barks at from across the room, with absolutely no mark of politeness, “You got more of those sheets? Those kids don’t got any.”
And yes, I am supposed to be teaching these kids how to treat others respectfully and speak academically. I have spent at least 40 minutes stressing to them that they are capable of achieving, that they are not dumb, that I will accept no excuses because I know they are smart. But when this woman comes into my room, with a demeaning tone (intentional or not), treating my kids like they are incapable of anything (and I am almost fairly certain I could have handled the behavioral problems – they were no less rowdy than my rowdy 3rd period)…what’s a TFAer to do?
And I have kids in the teacher’s lounge, who explain (when I gently remind them that the vending machines are for teachers only) that they are getting a drink for their teacher. I see kids coming into the teacher’s lounge to pick up/heat lunches for their teachers. I overheard a teacher who complimented a pregnant student’s weight gain, saying it was “happy fat.”
I’m sorry, but when is having a child at age 16 happy? Maybe it’s just me.
Needless to say, my spirits were pretty dampened at the end of the day. Yet there was one gem of a moment today that I drew hope from.
D walks into my 3rd period class with this sort of aloof look. I mentally mark him with a caution sign – possible trouble. But as I stress the fact that I believe that they are smart despite what others may say, that I am only there for them and for no other reason, I can see his eyes watching me. He gets drawn in.
He is the first one to come back from lunch.
“Hey D, welcome back.”
“Hi, Miss Chen.”
I’m setting up for class. We chat a little bit – he tells me that he plays the tuba and is in band. There is a brief pause.
“Miss, I can’t write.”
I look up.
“D, I do not believe that. Remember, there is no can’t. No excuses, remember?”
He thinks and clarifies himself.
“Ok, I mean I can write, but I’m not good at it.”
“D, it’s ok. We’re going to work on that. I will help you. That’s what I’m here for.”
He sits down.
“Yeah, Miss Chen, I really want to down on my writing this year.”
“Ok, D, we’re going to work on it.”
I have asked them to write an identity poem with some sensory imagery. D raises his hand for me to read his paper. He has the scrawl of a five year-old. He writes about growing up in the ghetto, like most of my students did. The spelling is horrendous and I can only imagine what his diagnostic will look like.
But he has the want. And for now, that is all I need.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Day 1
Chaos. Pure chaos.
That may be the only possible way to describe my first full day of teaching.
Be flexible, they said. Ok, I’m flexible. So it’s fine when I can’t get a print-out of my roster because the attendance lady doesn’t know how to work the system. I’ll make a sign-in sheet – it’s cool. It’s ok when I received the bell schedule for today and – surprise! – instead of having all 8 periods, we’re having an “A” day and having periods 1-4, plus advisory sessions. That’s fine – each class is scheduled to be 1 hour long – just the right amount of time to go over rules, expectations, etc.
But when advisory lasts 30 minutes longer than expected, and then you make 1st period last for TWO hours, that’s when it gets a little tough.
Luckily, my 1st period is relatively well-behaved. I worked hard on investment, then winged it with an article I wasn’t planning on doing until the next day. Not enough clear-expectation setting, but it worked out.
Then they come on to make what was probably the 5th announcement of the day (oh boy, and this was only the beginning): we’re skipping 2nd period and going to 3rd period.
Figures that 2nd period is my planning period.
“Lucky” me, my floor does B lunch. What does that mean? That means my kids come to me, then leave for 30 minutes to eat lunch, then come back to me, effectively breaking off any kind of rhythm I have set. 3rd period – a little rowdier, but we pull through it. With no fewer than 6 more announcements, with the same, slow, monotonous voice, giving us the same information an unnecessary number of times.
“Please pardon the interruption. The bell you just heard is the A lunch tardy bell. Do not dismiss your class. I repeat…”
“Please pardon the interruption. B lunch teachers, please wrap up your class. In 5 minutes, we will ring the bell for you to release your students. I repeat…”
“Please pardon the interruption. We are ringing the bell for B lunch teachers to release their students. I repeat…”
Then, for some reason, they decide to have the kids go back to their 2nd period classes before going to 4th period. 4th period was only 20 minutes long. I don’t even finish calling roll and inserting names into my seating chart before the bell rings and we’re back in advisory session.
BUT I survive.
And one important lesson I learned today: Never ask your students for a nickname, or what they would like to be called. Because of this, I am now calling one student Hulk. Hulk helps me quiet the class down though, so I like him.
That may be the only possible way to describe my first full day of teaching.
Be flexible, they said. Ok, I’m flexible. So it’s fine when I can’t get a print-out of my roster because the attendance lady doesn’t know how to work the system. I’ll make a sign-in sheet – it’s cool. It’s ok when I received the bell schedule for today and – surprise! – instead of having all 8 periods, we’re having an “A” day and having periods 1-4, plus advisory sessions. That’s fine – each class is scheduled to be 1 hour long – just the right amount of time to go over rules, expectations, etc.
But when advisory lasts 30 minutes longer than expected, and then you make 1st period last for TWO hours, that’s when it gets a little tough.
Luckily, my 1st period is relatively well-behaved. I worked hard on investment, then winged it with an article I wasn’t planning on doing until the next day. Not enough clear-expectation setting, but it worked out.
Then they come on to make what was probably the 5th announcement of the day (oh boy, and this was only the beginning): we’re skipping 2nd period and going to 3rd period.
Figures that 2nd period is my planning period.
“Lucky” me, my floor does B lunch. What does that mean? That means my kids come to me, then leave for 30 minutes to eat lunch, then come back to me, effectively breaking off any kind of rhythm I have set. 3rd period – a little rowdier, but we pull through it. With no fewer than 6 more announcements, with the same, slow, monotonous voice, giving us the same information an unnecessary number of times.
“Please pardon the interruption. The bell you just heard is the A lunch tardy bell. Do not dismiss your class. I repeat…”
“Please pardon the interruption. B lunch teachers, please wrap up your class. In 5 minutes, we will ring the bell for you to release your students. I repeat…”
“Please pardon the interruption. We are ringing the bell for B lunch teachers to release their students. I repeat…”
Then, for some reason, they decide to have the kids go back to their 2nd period classes before going to 4th period. 4th period was only 20 minutes long. I don’t even finish calling roll and inserting names into my seating chart before the bell rings and we’re back in advisory session.
BUT I survive.
And one important lesson I learned today: Never ask your students for a nickname, or what they would like to be called. Because of this, I am now calling one student Hulk. Hulk helps me quiet the class down though, so I like him.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Getting ready for Monday...
After so many weeks of professional development (which, frankly, was a lot of time wasting), it was great to finally start working at Franklin D. Roosevelt High School! I've been busy meeting my fellow staff members, decorating my classroom, and getting ready for Monday.
The staff
Most of the other teachers here have been amazingly helpful to me. I love the English department - I'm now the new "baby" of the department (a title that my 25-year-old colleague was more than happy to pass on). My department chair seems to know what she's doing, and there's another teacher who I can tell is going to be my "mom." She's been taking care of me, making sure I know what I need to know. I'm excited to get to know everyone here!
Decorating
People really need to know how much work and money teachers spend on their classroom. All I can say is thank goodness for the lovely law firm that sponsored us and gave us all gift certificates for the teacher supply store. Who knew that borders were so freakin' expensive???
I'm doing a movie theme for my class (surprise surprise). Here are some pictures. It's still a work in progress.
The outside of the door (those little strips are movie quotes).
10th graders are going to be sitting there on Monday...
The back of the classroom. I am proud (perhaps pathetically so) of that banner that I made all by myself.
The front of the classroom. (Check out my UCLA pennant!)
The staff
Most of the other teachers here have been amazingly helpful to me. I love the English department - I'm now the new "baby" of the department (a title that my 25-year-old colleague was more than happy to pass on). My department chair seems to know what she's doing, and there's another teacher who I can tell is going to be my "mom." She's been taking care of me, making sure I know what I need to know. I'm excited to get to know everyone here!
Decorating
People really need to know how much work and money teachers spend on their classroom. All I can say is thank goodness for the lovely law firm that sponsored us and gave us all gift certificates for the teacher supply store. Who knew that borders were so freakin' expensive???
I'm doing a movie theme for my class (surprise surprise). Here are some pictures. It's still a work in progress.
The outside of the door (those little strips are movie quotes).
10th graders are going to be sitting there on Monday...
The back of the classroom. I am proud (perhaps pathetically so) of that banner that I made all by myself.
The front of the classroom. (Check out my UCLA pennant!)
Monday, August 10, 2009
Life in Dallas
So I've finally settled into my new apartment in Dallas (more or less). I have a bed now! No more bouches, no more air mattresses! I finally have furniture in my room, and no longer have to live off the floor! I think TFA makes you appreciate the little things in life...like not being scalded by the shower every 5 seconds and various other small luxuries.
The outside of my apartment building.
The desk from Office Depot that took my dad and brother 4 hours to put together.
My glorious bed!
More decorating to come later...
So training with Dallas ISD is...different, to say the least. Whereas everything at institute was planned out to the second with a purpose in mind, I feel like a lot of the professional development I've been doing with the district has been empty time filler. I think after 10 weeks of sessions, it's getting to be a little much.
What else have I been up to in Dallas?
Hanging out with lovely TFAers.
Eating. Here's the wall at Peggy Sue's BBQ.
JFK Memorial.
I went to Shakespeare in the Park and saw an awesome, country-Western-ized rendition of The Taming of the Shrew.
We came prepared with a picnic. Fun TFA times.
...and just otherwise exploring my new home for the next two years! I leave you California people with this -
Look familiar?
The outside of my apartment building.
The desk from Office Depot that took my dad and brother 4 hours to put together.
My glorious bed!
More decorating to come later...
So training with Dallas ISD is...different, to say the least. Whereas everything at institute was planned out to the second with a purpose in mind, I feel like a lot of the professional development I've been doing with the district has been empty time filler. I think after 10 weeks of sessions, it's getting to be a little much.
What else have I been up to in Dallas?
Hanging out with lovely TFAers.
Eating. Here's the wall at Peggy Sue's BBQ.
JFK Memorial.
I went to Shakespeare in the Park and saw an awesome, country-Western-ized rendition of The Taming of the Shrew.
We came prepared with a picnic. Fun TFA times.
...and just otherwise exploring my new home for the next two years! I leave you California people with this -
Look familiar?
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