a few weeks ago, i attended the welcome dinner for the 2008 charlotte corps of teach for america teachers. i was overwhelmed by how many new faces were becoming a part of this mission, and by how fresh-looking they are (do i really look as weathered and beaten at just 22 as i feel?!?), and by how many questions they have. wow. i have taken it upon myself to adopt the special education teachers in the bunch because i know how clueless they must be feeling because i remember how clueless i was feeling at that point last year. i expected a few of those future teachers to come up to me and say hi, since we've chatted before, but i found myself speaking with oh so many people. i couldn't understand how these people knew me, or why they at sought me out, but then one of them reminded me of the story i told in an email that was sent out to all of them. it was a story about my first day of second semester with my 11th grade class. during that class, my co-teacher and i came up with the idea (not originally, we borrowed it from freedom writers - totally cliche, i know) to have our kids give a toast to the semester to follow. this is that story:
On the first day of the second semester, I poured a glass of juice for each of my students. I explained to them that it is imperative that they understand the importance of celebrating all victories in life, even small ones, and that making it to the eleventh grade is no small victory. I also explained that what we were going to do that day was to make a toast - a proclamation of where we've come from and where we're going. Inside, I was hoping that this didn't sound too cliché, but outside I was noticing that my kids were nodding in agreement and thinking hard about what they would say. I went first. I said, "First I want to toast to all of you. You're the reason I'm here. I toast to the triumphs and the struggles that have gotten you this far, and to all of those that will keep you going. I also want to toast to myself. I want to toast to being the best instructor, counselor, mentor, listening ear... anything, that I can be, because I want you to succeed." With that, I raised my plastic cup, took a sip of juice, and walked to the back of the classroom. I had my fingers crossed that my students would buy in.
Just like that, one by one, my students stood up and toasted to themselves, individually and as a class, explaining what they've done to get to where they are in life and what they want to do next. It was incredibly moving. The last student, Tyrel, stood and walked to the front. He raised his cup and said, "First of all, I want to toast to you, Ms. Quick, for making us feel so welcomed and loved from Day 1. Next, I want to toast to every student in this classroom because we are here, in eleventh grade. And next year we will be in twelfth grade, and the year after that we'll be in college. And we'll get there together just like we've gotten here together. And last, I want to toast to myself. If it weren't for the hard times, I wouldn't know how to appreciate the good times. I think this is one of those good times. Cheers." Tyrel held his glass up, and the class cheered.
Can you believe that? They actually cheered. It's like what happens in the movies, but it happened in my classroom. Unbelievable! And amazing! My first semester of teaching was rough at some points, but this one moment erased all of that from my mind. This is why I came to Charlotte to teach. These students are why I do what I do. And they are why I'm so hopeful that you will become a part of it too. You will get to have moments like this. They may be shrouded in a few side conversations, an occasional missed assignment and phone calls home, but you will have them. And you will relish them. There really is nothing like the relationship you will develop with your students, and how much it will mean to both you and them. They know deep down, even if they don't always say it, that you're here because they need you. They really do need you.
Think for a moment all of the students who you will impact, because that's what this is about, those students. You will bring smiles to people's faces, you will challenge students for what might be the first time in their lives, and you will bring about change. It does not get better than that, and that is why I am so hopeful that you will come to Charlotte.
i love that story. and i love the fact that i gave my students an opportunity to come full circle by giving a toast to their accomplishments at the end of the semester, as i reference in the last post. and i love that these new, fresh, completely un-jaded corps members eat that stuff up. yes, i feel extremely lucky to have had one of those moments in my classroom. is it true that it completely erased all of the bad times from the school year? no, i still have some emotional scars. but does it overshadow a whole lot of them? yes, absolutely. i truly love all of my students, and i find myself wondering how they're doing without me harassing them on a daily basis. i'm sure they're surviving, just like i am.
i find myself realizing so many things about myself now that i have the opportunity to have removed myself from the school environment. i know so much more about delivering instruction and course content. i understand where my students are coming from much better. i am more confident in my ability to be firm with my students. i know that there is a huge difference between caring about my students and wanting to be their friends, and that it is a very important difference. i know that i can handle a mixed bag of misbehavior in and out of the classroom. i know that i can make co-teaching work. i know i can handle extremely stressful situations, in and out of the classroom. i know that i can make both pleasant and unpleasant phone calls to parents. i know that i can hold important meetings by myself. i know that i can answer questions that students and parents have, and if i cannot, that i can find someone who can for them. basically, i know i can do a whole heck of a lot more things than i ever thought i was capable of. it's a good feeling! i already feel more confident going into my next year of teaching, despite the fact that i have no idea what i may be teaching next year. whatever happens, i figure i can handle it.
one lesson i thought i learned at the beginning of the school year was that, "it's not about you, it's about them" - that it's not about what this job can do for the teacher, but what the teacher can do for her students. i really thought i understood that message, and that i was putting it into practice. nope. i didn't manage to check my ego at the door for the majority of the school year. i wanted the kids to like me too much. i wanted to not have to co-teach so that i could have 100% control over a classroom. i wanted to receive credit for my school's writing scores since i did the vast majority of planning and instruction in one of the classes i taught, who did very, very well on that test. i wanted, i wanted, i wanted. i was being selfish too much. turns out, it doesn't so much matter if my kids actually like me - just that they are respectful. it doesn't so much matter if my job involves co-teaching because co-teaching is proven to help the children both with and without special needs in the class to be much more successful. it doesn't matter if i receive credit for those writing scores, it just matters that my kids get the credit they deserve for working so hard to achieve at such a high level. this is a lesson that i wish i could impart upon the incoming teachers, but i guess i know from experience that that is exactly what it takes, experience, in order to learn this lesson.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
what a long, strange trip it has been..
survival (noun): the act or fact of surviving, especially under adverse or unusual circumstances. yeah, that sounds about right. my first real day of teaching was august 27, 2008. right now that seems like eons ago. i don't really remember anything about that day. i remember two days later when my third period class had me in tears, and i remember being told by colleagues that special education teachers are not real teachers. but the thing is, i also remember one of my students saying that i was the first teacher who he actually wanted to try for, and one of my kids asking me to adopt him.
"my kids." it's really kind of a funny concept. though not physically possible, i absolutely take ownership over all of the kids whom i have taught or advocated for over the course of this past year. that's well over one hundred children. dear god. i remember going home for the first time at the holidays and talking to friends from high school, whom i hadn't talked to in years, about what i was doing with my life. i made comments about "my kids," assuming they would just understand just like all of my (teacher) friends here understand. instead they stood there with their mouths agape, wondering if i had had not just one child, but multiple children, since they had last heard of me. well, i didn't give birth to these kids but i do love them and claim them. i went home for a weekend recently, and i was being very mature and reflective while talking to my cousin about my impact as a teacher and the emotions that are involved. (*note: admittedly, i was in a very positive frame of mind at that time, but everything i said still stands.) i realized that i am absolutely head-over-heels in love with my kids, in a completely appropriate way of course. i feel their pain like it's my pain, i celebrate their successes like they're my own. and then i wondered what it will be like when i have my own children? it will be even more intense, and that's just scary. first of all, i'm not ready for my own kids. second of all, that is a crazy amount of emotional investment in one person. whoa.
now that this school year is coming to a close, i've been looking back to figure out if i've really made an impact on my kids. of course i like to think that i have, and in a dream world they would all run up to me and tell me what a difference i've made in their lives and what an inspiration i am. but in real life, i'm dealing with somewhat fickle teenagers. at least that's what i keep telling myself to feel better. as i've stated previously, i'm not so good with the quantitative data. i generally know where all my kids stand and what i need to do to help them improve. on top of teaching them things about english, i also try to impart some wisdom about life. i do that in hopes of instilling in them greater self-worth and self-confidence. i would like to think i've been successful. on the last day of my most enjoyable class this semester, i stood back and listened to them individually reflect upon the semester. they spoke about what they learned and the relationships they forged, and they talked about how they appreciated their teacher - but not me so much, my co-teacher. i stood there and told myself it's because he's leaving our school to teach elsewhere and i'll be back and they'll see me and it's not the same and their appreciation is just implicit and i'm being hyper-analytical, etc. i don't know that i've ever felt so small. it hurt so bad because i know that i am the one who did the majority of the work involved with the actual instruction related to the curriculum, and i did a bang up job. but in the end, that's not what they cared about the most. they cared about the times my co-teacher spent preaching about matters unrelated to american literature. don't get me wrong, i also value some of the time that was spent providing guidance to our 17 year old students about the way life could and should be for them... but i particularly value instruction. it's just that i think those positive messages about life should come out in an academically relevant way. i know my kids learned something from me, several somethings, but i wanted to hear it directly from them. i wanted to know that they appreciated everything i did to make them think critically and creatively. but once again, i'm dealing with somewhat fickle teenagers who have many other things on their minds other than american lit.
this is what brings me to the much anticipated teacher philosophy i will live by number six (courtesy of my mother): "the popular teachers aren't always the best teachers." maybe i'm telling myself this just to feel better about myself, and i will admit that my self-esteem could use a boost, but i think that's true. students probably enjoy not being pushed beyond their means because it means they can just sit there and socialize or sleep. but on the flipside of that, i also truly believe that students do like to be pushed and challenged and broken down to be built up again. that is how i want to be remembered. it's sooo cliche, but it's also so true. to be the teacher who pushed her students to do more than they thought they could, and to help them to realize that they're capable of much more than they were aware of is an awesome feat. teachers who actually do those kinds of things aren't recognized or appreciated until like, 20 years down the road though. so what i'm going to do - my "next step," if you will - is to stay in touch with these kids in order to find out if i was that kind of teacher for them. possible? yes. probable? no. but i'll still try. that's why they invented the myspace, right?
there is one student who has extra made me feel small and helpless and useless this year, and that is my absolute favorite student. some may read this and say, "but you're not supposed to have favorite students; that's wrong!" to which i respond, oh please. well, this student of mine came to school less and less this past semester until he just stopped coming at all. i tried so hard to get him to come after school to make up time and work so that he could pass, but in the end, i could not want him to be educated more than he did. he would have to do it for himself. and he didn't. it's killing me. the one student who i tried the hardest with, both academically and psychologically, dropped out. he gave up everything that he had done, that we had done, and dropped out. i know that i should not take this personal, and that ultimately he is only hurting himself. but i am hurting too. i feel like i failed him - that i didn't push hard enough or say the right things. somewhere along the line, i did him a disservice. logically, i know that there are 16 years of his life that i was completely uninvolved in and that have also brought him to this point, but i can't help claiming responsibility for all of it just like i claim responsibility for him as one of my kids.
if i could teach my students one lesson in life that i think would benefit them for the rest of their lives, unrelated to english literature, it would be to appreciate what you have. not take advantage of what you have, not use what you have - or don't have - as an excuse, but genuinely appreciate what you have. they need to learn to appreciate the teachers who are caring and devoted instead of attempting to test their limits and run them down. they need to learn to appreciate the people who are earnest and devoted in their attempts to make students successful instead of writing them off. they need to fulfill their duties as students and citizens to attain an excellent education and then go out into the world and use it. ultimately, they need to understand that there is always someone who has it worse. they could have a teacher who puts movies in every day, or who gives them elementary school worksheets in high school. they could be in a worse school with worse resources. it can always be worse, unfortunately. but it's not, and that's what they need to understand.
"my kids." it's really kind of a funny concept. though not physically possible, i absolutely take ownership over all of the kids whom i have taught or advocated for over the course of this past year. that's well over one hundred children. dear god. i remember going home for the first time at the holidays and talking to friends from high school, whom i hadn't talked to in years, about what i was doing with my life. i made comments about "my kids," assuming they would just understand just like all of my (teacher) friends here understand. instead they stood there with their mouths agape, wondering if i had had not just one child, but multiple children, since they had last heard of me. well, i didn't give birth to these kids but i do love them and claim them. i went home for a weekend recently, and i was being very mature and reflective while talking to my cousin about my impact as a teacher and the emotions that are involved. (*note: admittedly, i was in a very positive frame of mind at that time, but everything i said still stands.) i realized that i am absolutely head-over-heels in love with my kids, in a completely appropriate way of course. i feel their pain like it's my pain, i celebrate their successes like they're my own. and then i wondered what it will be like when i have my own children? it will be even more intense, and that's just scary. first of all, i'm not ready for my own kids. second of all, that is a crazy amount of emotional investment in one person. whoa.
now that this school year is coming to a close, i've been looking back to figure out if i've really made an impact on my kids. of course i like to think that i have, and in a dream world they would all run up to me and tell me what a difference i've made in their lives and what an inspiration i am. but in real life, i'm dealing with somewhat fickle teenagers. at least that's what i keep telling myself to feel better. as i've stated previously, i'm not so good with the quantitative data. i generally know where all my kids stand and what i need to do to help them improve. on top of teaching them things about english, i also try to impart some wisdom about life. i do that in hopes of instilling in them greater self-worth and self-confidence. i would like to think i've been successful. on the last day of my most enjoyable class this semester, i stood back and listened to them individually reflect upon the semester. they spoke about what they learned and the relationships they forged, and they talked about how they appreciated their teacher - but not me so much, my co-teacher. i stood there and told myself it's because he's leaving our school to teach elsewhere and i'll be back and they'll see me and it's not the same and their appreciation is just implicit and i'm being hyper-analytical, etc. i don't know that i've ever felt so small. it hurt so bad because i know that i am the one who did the majority of the work involved with the actual instruction related to the curriculum, and i did a bang up job. but in the end, that's not what they cared about the most. they cared about the times my co-teacher spent preaching about matters unrelated to american literature. don't get me wrong, i also value some of the time that was spent providing guidance to our 17 year old students about the way life could and should be for them... but i particularly value instruction. it's just that i think those positive messages about life should come out in an academically relevant way. i know my kids learned something from me, several somethings, but i wanted to hear it directly from them. i wanted to know that they appreciated everything i did to make them think critically and creatively. but once again, i'm dealing with somewhat fickle teenagers who have many other things on their minds other than american lit.
this is what brings me to the much anticipated teacher philosophy i will live by number six (courtesy of my mother): "the popular teachers aren't always the best teachers." maybe i'm telling myself this just to feel better about myself, and i will admit that my self-esteem could use a boost, but i think that's true. students probably enjoy not being pushed beyond their means because it means they can just sit there and socialize or sleep. but on the flipside of that, i also truly believe that students do like to be pushed and challenged and broken down to be built up again. that is how i want to be remembered. it's sooo cliche, but it's also so true. to be the teacher who pushed her students to do more than they thought they could, and to help them to realize that they're capable of much more than they were aware of is an awesome feat. teachers who actually do those kinds of things aren't recognized or appreciated until like, 20 years down the road though. so what i'm going to do - my "next step," if you will - is to stay in touch with these kids in order to find out if i was that kind of teacher for them. possible? yes. probable? no. but i'll still try. that's why they invented the myspace, right?
there is one student who has extra made me feel small and helpless and useless this year, and that is my absolute favorite student. some may read this and say, "but you're not supposed to have favorite students; that's wrong!" to which i respond, oh please. well, this student of mine came to school less and less this past semester until he just stopped coming at all. i tried so hard to get him to come after school to make up time and work so that he could pass, but in the end, i could not want him to be educated more than he did. he would have to do it for himself. and he didn't. it's killing me. the one student who i tried the hardest with, both academically and psychologically, dropped out. he gave up everything that he had done, that we had done, and dropped out. i know that i should not take this personal, and that ultimately he is only hurting himself. but i am hurting too. i feel like i failed him - that i didn't push hard enough or say the right things. somewhere along the line, i did him a disservice. logically, i know that there are 16 years of his life that i was completely uninvolved in and that have also brought him to this point, but i can't help claiming responsibility for all of it just like i claim responsibility for him as one of my kids.
if i could teach my students one lesson in life that i think would benefit them for the rest of their lives, unrelated to english literature, it would be to appreciate what you have. not take advantage of what you have, not use what you have - or don't have - as an excuse, but genuinely appreciate what you have. they need to learn to appreciate the teachers who are caring and devoted instead of attempting to test their limits and run them down. they need to learn to appreciate the people who are earnest and devoted in their attempts to make students successful instead of writing them off. they need to fulfill their duties as students and citizens to attain an excellent education and then go out into the world and use it. ultimately, they need to understand that there is always someone who has it worse. they could have a teacher who puts movies in every day, or who gives them elementary school worksheets in high school. they could be in a worse school with worse resources. it can always be worse, unfortunately. but it's not, and that's what they need to understand.
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