matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

education and teaching

Absent

If any of my colleagues ever suggested -- or simply thought (then how would I know?) -- that they were more productive a given day because I wasn't there, I would feel such shame that it might be difficult to show my face again among those folks. I would reflect on my behavior, on what I'd always considered my contributions, and I would likely realize that I shouldn't have simply been second-guessing myself; I would realize I'd had a completely false self-image.

Today, several students were absent, with most of them were suspended. The types that are likely to get suspended are the types that are likely to disrupt class, and so today, two classes that generally leave me wondering about my decision to stay in education were absolute pleasures. They were productive, polite, focused. They were unlike they'd been in a long time, if ever. (Is it really only September? Are we really only in the second half of the first quarter?! I feel so tired of it all that everything in me screams that it must be March.)

What if I tell these students that? How would that conversation go? I think we all know: they would be indifferent. At least one of the students admitted openly that he is disruptive because he knows it annoys other students, and he likes to annoy other students.

Several of them will be back tomorrow -- will it be business as usual? No. I've seen what we can accomplish: if they are unwilling to cooperate, I will do what is necessary to protect the education of all the other students.

The Reality of Teaching

At Work

Sometimes

you just want the day to wash away in a blur and say nothing about it...

First Socratic Seminar

Fire

This year I'm trying a new starter: Write Into the Day. Basically, it's a short writing exercise that is intended to get their minds in a literary space. I've tinkered with it, changed a few things, altered how we share, but so far, I've left the core idea alone: write a few sentences about a given prompt.

Last week, one of the prompts was this: "What lights that fire in you to give it your all?" When I was reading the responses this weekend, I found this one:

Mr Scott because he wants me to be my best in school so everytime he talks to me in the hallway about how much brain cells I have. After we finish talking in the hallway and when I go to my class I'm ready to learn so He always fires me up every time in class so Mr scott fires me and I give it all I have.

These kids kill me: it takes the smallest thing sometimes. This boy was telling me early in the year that he couldn't do any better because he "only has two brain cells."

"What are you talking about? You've got something like 120 billion brain cells, and they all work just fine as far as I can tell."

The next day I saw him, I'd done some calculations, and I told him, "You know if all your brain cells were one second each, you'd have 3,800 years worth of seconds!"

"Really?!" He couldn't believe it.

The smallest things...

Planning

Fight

The Boy told me about it the moment I walked into the house. "There was a fight at school today. A big fight." Apparently, two boys got into it during lunch, and it happened right in front of the Boy.

"Were you scared?" I asked.

"Yes!" he replied without hesitation or self-awareness of the fact that such a response would definitely mark him at some schools among some kids. One of those involved was someone E knows, and he was a little worried about what was happening to his friend and a little worried about what might happen him.

"I'm definitely in middle school now," he concluded.

Tuesday School Thoughts

On the one hand, I'm responsible for teaching them to read and write better. That's my bottom-line assignment at work. Traditionally, that's all a teacher has ever been expected to do: teach the course material.

Yet some of my students fall under the rubric "at-risk" in one form or another. They can't stay focused for more than five minutes (at best) or five seconds (literally, at worst). They can't keep up with their materials until the next day (at best) or the next minute (at worst). They can't accept "no" as an answer, and they take everything personally and turn things into battles that have no business being fights to begin with. They come in without materials -- no pencil, no paper, no nothing.

These are the kids whose behavior, quite honestly, disrupts the learning of anyone and everyone else in the room. They are black holes for attention: their every second is a new event horizon to resist. Interactions with them can be quicksand, pulling everyone in and restricting movement completely. Working with them for five minutes can be utterly exhausting; working with them for a whole class period can have one questioning one's sanity.

Yet what option do we have as teachers? No one else is teaching these kids (only a few -- perhaps 7-10%, and not even that many who are so demanding and high-maintenance) these skills. At least it seems no one else is teaching them the skills. And someone has to teach these kids the basics of how to interact successfully with the world.

But it's so exhausting...

Lockers