It's A Good Thing I Didn't Listen: Changing Your Plan in March, and Making It Work

They told me not to.

So far this year I have had three visits and evaluations from my MTC program, the most recent one being this past January. Every time I got feedback it was almost always the same, which was the same as the feedback I got when I left summer training, which was the same as the feedback I got at the beginning of summer training: Be more consistent. Stop changing every time it gets hard. Don't. Change. Any. More.

By the time my third evaluation came around, I had changed classroom rules, consequence systems, reward systems, and everything else about 50 times. Not only that, but I had not one, but four different crazy reward systems going all the time: Stars per period which were awarded for academic achievements; Student of the week which was done per period and had like 4 different reward options; Points awarded each class for every 5 minutes they went without being assholes (rarely happened); Marble jars also awarded for behavior per period. 

All in all, it was a goddamn nightmare. 

The individual rewards were based on XP, which were good except that my particularly shy kids, the ones who also happened to be really well behaved, would never get rewarded because they hate reading in class so would never get XP. I tried to remedy this by occasionally forcing them to read or do something in class, but it certainly didn't breed happiness. This also meant that students who talked over other students, read aloud very often, and were particularly vocal, even if they were disruptive the other 50% of the time, they would still rack up XP and get to buy candy, quiz and homework passes, and bonus points, while the good kids were left in the cold.

In addition to all this, my referrals were getting up to at least one a day, and on my worst days I could clock 5. I knew from every time I had gotten advice that changing every time it got hard was not the way to go, and in reality every time I switched something around I was only screwing myself over even more. And when that observation came around again, and my mentor was sitting across from me again, I heard the same advice again, "If you keep changing, the students don't know what's expected and they'll never get better. You have to stick with what you have and don't change anything anymore, no matter how bad it gets."

That being said, and known, I still couldn't push through with what I had. I couldn't keep up, and the kids were all noticing that no one system was actually effective, so they didn't care. I had no way to systematically reward the kids who were consistently good, write-ups and ISS and Alt School didn't deter the increasingly rough behavior, and when one of my Seniors said to me one afternoon, "Just wait till the flowers start bloomin' Ms. T, shit's only gonna get crazier," I decided I had to do something.

Over Spring Break, I went into my classroom and streamlined like a madwoman. I cleaned out all the junk in my room (over 50 tri-fold Reading Fair boards, good God) and took down every system I had in place. No more stars, no more marbles, no more points, no more students of the week. I took it all down. I took down my consequences and my rewards posters, but left my rules up. And here's what went up instead:

3 magnetic white boards, 50 circle magnets, and 50 labels each
with a student's name on them, color coded per period.

I had planned on having a system like this next year, but I couldn't wait any longer. In this system, everybody starts in the center (this photo was taken at the end of the week, so they've moved around quite a bit). When students are consistently good (i.e. start their bellringer immediately and silently, follow directions, give great answers) they move up on the system, eventually getting to "Role Model" level and staying there. However, when students create disruptions, don't follow directions, come in unprepared, come in tardy, or talk out of turn, they move down a level. The students who move down in levels can move back up by not getting any more consequences for the remainder of the period, or starting their bellringer immediately and quietly the next day.

Which brings me to my next great idea that I never thought would work: I instituted a "Raise Hands' rule. I never liked this rule when I started, and if you remember back then I had these class "modes" that we used to see when we could raise our hands and when we could discuss out loud.  Yet again with my inconsistency and terrible management, this never worked. What I do now is the beginning of class is always raising hands, and then we have designated discussion time I say "You can call out now, but if we interrupt each other or you talk over me, we will go back to raising hands." 

This entire things has gone SHOCKINGLY well. Now I will say this: I am only doing this with my Juniors. My Seniors at this point are a lost cause, and really they're so focused on getting out that they're really not bad discipline problems except for about 3 of them, and no system will save me from those ones. But the Juniors I will have again next year, and they will know the system and know what to expect, and so far it is ridiculous how successful it's been. Here's a breakdown:

1. It rewards the kids who are consistently good. It is easy in these schools to think that "not getting written up" is a reward. Also some teachers believe that we "shouldn't reward students for being quiet, sitting still, and doing their work. That's what they're supposed to do. You get rewarded for being outstanding, not doing the bare minimum of what's expected." I see where this argument comes from, but for me it's not so much a reward, as a thank you. When I give kids on "Role Model" level cookies on a Friday, it's kind of a reward for them, but mainly it's a thank you from me. It's my way of saying, "You know what, in this situation, at this place, you could have turned out like these other assholes. You didn't. Thanks for not being an asshole." These kids were regularly getting left behind and ignored, because all my energy was spent on the disrupters. These "good" students would also often get "taken down" by the disrupters in the class because for them there was no reason to act right. They knew that the two or three rough kids would prevent the whole class from getting rewarded, so they gave up. I see now when those few kids start to act up, the class doesn't get hijacked because the other kids know that they have a reward coming. The effect is just amazing.
2. It rewards kids who act well, but struggle academically. Another issue I was having is the idea that "The reward for the well-behaved students is good grades." This is a great idea if your well-behaved students are also high-leve achievers. But what if you have three well-behaved, very engaged students, but they still can't read? Then not even good grades are their rewards. They really do get left behind in the worst way. This system has kept those students engaged too, and I've seen an improvement in their work!
   
3. It takes away the reward aspect of XP if a student is disruptive. This was more of a serious problem than I can even explain unless you've been in my class. Answering questions, reading off the board, reading out loud, sweeping the classroom, and other helpful activities get you XP points in my classroom, which you can redeem for chips or candy on Fridays, Quiz and
   
   Homework passes, bonus points on tests and essays, and special privileges like bringing food to class or listening to music. I liked this system, except what was happening was that for some students they are highly participatory, but also highly disruptive. I also had the particularly disruptive students stealing XP on a regular basis, or bullying other students out of them. This resulted in kids who wouldn't pay attention in class, cause disruption during tests or quizzes, or disengage because "I got enough XP in here I never have to take a quiz or test again!" This also meant that kids who paid attention, got good grades, and never disrupted, but also weren't confortable reading or participating as often, had virtually no XP and even if they had them, they didn't need them.
   
   But in the new system, if you're on the lower three levels, you can't use your XP. Your money is of no use here! If a student is on the bottom they can't use their XP for bonus points, treats, or privileges. This has totally changed the way that XP works, and the way that my students view them. Some of them complained, but most of them kind of understood. More importantly, I could see my consistently good students felt much better knowing that they weren't being left in the cold.

4. It has cut my referrals down to virtually none. This is going to sound insane, but I have not written up a single Junior since this system started. I know that sounds like a pretty dramatic change, but it's true. My referrals have all but disappeared. Even my principal has noticed! Now some of this is due to some new procedures I put in as well, but I know that a good part of it is this system. In my second period especially, two boys who have been the most consistent problems all year have turned into model students, all motivated by getting to "Role Model" level. They are always making sure I'm looking at them so they can stay at the top, and when they get rowdy and I have to move them down, they immediately straighten up and watch the board like hawks till they move back up. It's outstanding!

I have also done Interactive Notebooks and new procedures for my Juniors which is helping a lot, but I love how this system is working. It has also made it so much easier for me track. I have struggled all year with tracking consequences. I've tried seating chart trackers, iPhone apps, Google Docs, labels, pretty much everything, but I just couldn't stay consistent. With all the systems I had it was too much for me to handle and I kept giving up. This system has worked now for about a month, and I have been consistent with it so far. It is a lot easier for me to keep up with. I just write arrows if they move up or down a level, and then I have codes I circle (Z for sleeping, C for calling out, D for disruptive, R for Referral, which I haven't circled yet! Yay!).

5. It prevents consistent disrupters from disengaging or giving up. In the past, another issue I was having is that if a student was given sort of the "last-call" of consequences, like getting a zero daily grade, getting referred, calling the office, they would give up and act even worse. They knew they were as far down as they could go, and they were going to take everyone down with them. I wanted a way for these students to work themselves out of the "last call." In this system, even if they reach the bottom (except the "Off The Board" level, these students are not allowed back on board until I speak to a guardian, but this has only happened once), they are able to straighten up during the period and get back on track.

There's one boy in 2nd period that I still struggle with on a daily basis, but I really really love him so it's a labor of love. Most of the time if he gets off track (he has severe ADHD that manifests in some pretty loud, bouncing, running, cussing ways), I stay on him with reminders and verbal cues and he is usually able to redirect and get back on track with the class. On the other hand, there are two students 8th

period (a boy and a girl) for whom I assure you it is NOT a labor of love, but rather a labor of necessity to keep myself from physically assaulting either of them. For these two, this system is mostly lost. They don't care for the rewards or the consequences, but these are the students who haven't cared about these things all year. But even for the "terrible two", in one of them (the girl) I can see a glimmer of change. A few times now she has stopped herself from calling out, standing up, or otherwise causing disruption because she is so close to "Outstanding" and she doesn't want to screw it up. In fact, this past Friday she raised her hand (which she never remembers to do) and asked to come speak to me. She came to me and told me that she had gotten her bellringer done quietly, even though the boy next to her (the other half of the terrible two) was trying to get her to talk and give him her cell phone. She said she tried really hard and thought she should get moved up to Role Model. She seemed really genuine, and I obliged. Now, she didn't last up there very long, as about halfway through the period she threw her notebook across the room and declared that she hated me, but like I said, it's a *glimmer.* The boy just spends the entire period yelling and cussing and complaining, I'll let you know when I see a *glimmer* from that one. Eesh.

6. It makes me feel better. I know this one might seem weird, but I had a lot of guilt knowing that quiet, engaged, hard-working students were being largely ignored and unrewarded in my classes. It broke my heart when I could see them losing interest, or getting mad or frustrated when disruptive kids not only

kept them from learning and getting what they wanted and needed out of my class, but they were getting rewarded with bonus points and treats just because they were loud! I wanted to say I was sorry so many times and never had the chance. I even went so far as to send my high-level kids to the library a few days a week to do independent work because I hated to subject them to the horrible class because it was my fault they were horrible. This way, even on the worst days, I know and they know that they will have a reward, and the students who are disrupting won't. It gives me more confidence and them more faith. It just makes me feel better, which is turn gives me more energy, which makes me work better, and blah blah blah it's great.

***

I'll write more next time about the notebooks I'm using because I know that those plus the new procedures have helped A TON, but this entry is already ten million years long. All in all, I am so proud of myself! I didn't listen to everyone's advice not to change, but this time it worked out for me. And I get to test out my new system for two months before next year, so I can get it perfect. I am considering doing it next year where everyone starts back on "Ready To Learn" every Monday, instead of just staying where they are and moving each day. Thoughts?

3 Things You Didn’t Know Were Privilege In High School

There were a lot of things I hated in high school. I’m sure we could all list a plethora of negative experiences, from lousy friends to lousy teachers to, of course, lousy parents. There were our horrible summer reading books, the painful years of braces, and arguments with our parents over going to the beach for Spring Break with our friends because everyone else was going and OH MY GOD MOM YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND.

source: Jonathan McIntosh

But looking back now, how many of these experiences- these disdainful and vilified experiences- were afforded to us all with privilege? We typically associate middle-class privilege with things we enjoy, like cars and cell phones and eating out at restaurants. But what about the experiences we didn’t like? Was there any privilege in those?

Yes. The answer is an overwhelming and resounding yes.

Below you will find a list of typically disdained experiences that, as it turns out, we were lucky to have. I have also listed the “Unspoken Privileges” under each one, which are assumed privileges that have to be in place in order for the bigger one to occur.

(For an even more extensive list of these unspoken privileges, visit here: 30+ Examples of Middle-to-Upper Class Privilege)

1. Getting Grounded

Unspoken privileges: Having one or more parents or guardians; Living in the same home with one or more parents or guardians; Interacting with one or more parents or guardians more than an average 3 days per week; One or more parents or guardians having a working phone number

I got grounded several times in high school, the most memorable occasion being when my parents got a call from a police officer at around 4am because I was playing “Flaming Tennis Ball Of Death” with my friends in a church parking lot. I won’t go into the details of the rules of the game here, but I will say that when the cop asked my father on the phone, “Sir, do you know where your daughter is tonight?” my dad answered, “Evidently not.”

It was probably the most horrified I’d ever been seeing that officer call my dad, but there was one thing I was sure of when I gave him the number: My mother or father would be home, they would answer the phone, and they would come pick me up and take me home. Not that I was looking forward to that exchange, but it was a certainty I could trust.

I have a student who is living with our school’s janitor because he got kicked out of his house. His mom’s new boyfriend moved in and she told him to get out. I have another who’s mother is in and out of jail weekly; one only sees his mother every other day because of the three jobs she works; one is an orphan and lives with his uncle who lives on the other side of the house and, as he describes it, “I hope I don’t die in there, because he’ll never know.”

Us Census Bureau 2000, 2007

Right now, according to the Mississippi Family Report put out by MSU Cares, the statistics on Mississippi families are staggering. Mississippi has the highest percentage of children living in single-parent families in the country, 45%; 7% are in father-only households, and 38% are in mother-only households. These numbers go hand -in-hand with our teen pregnancy rate, which is third in the nation,  with 22% of teen births being to women who were already mothers in 2004, indicating that many teenage moms in Mississippi get pregnant again. Not to mention that yet again we rank the highest in number of children living in families where no parent has full-time, year-round employment- 50%.

Having one or two parents at home- and I use the word parent here very intentionally- is one of the most significant and unnoticed privileges that exist. You have no idea how much of a difference it makes.

2. Getting Braces

Unspoken privileges: In addition to those mentioned above, One or more modes of transportation available; One or more parents or guardians being employed; Having access to health insurance

One week at an assembly one of my favorite kids threw his head back and laughed his big, beautiful laugh at something his best friend said. I smiled and laughed along with them, but while his head was reared back, I saw something I didn’t expect: behind his front teeth was an almost complete second row of crooked teeth, poking out in odd angles out of the roof of his mouth. I wondered if he had ever been to a dentist. 

Earlier this year, one of my students cried in my classroom because she was supposed to get her braces off one morning, but for the second time this year her medicaid had been denied. This same girl is about to give birth to a little boy in about 14 days, and she’s been using her dead grandmother’s name on her paperwork so that she can get prenatal care and ultrasounds. 

Healthcare is always a hot-button issue (which is shocking to me most of the time because it is frickin health care for God’s sake, and the fact that we can’t all agree that human beings have the right to have basic care like having teeth pulled and giving birth to a healthy baby is beyond me, but I digress), but hating my braces growing up was, as much as I hate to admit it, a privilege. My sister and I both had braces, and most of my friends, and they were painful and hideous and I hated them, but I never got a toothache and kept it to myself because I knew we couldn’t afford to go get it checked out. 

There's no way to know how these factors and situations can cause stress for young people. God knows they are under enough stress as the teen years are probably the most tumultuous  you know, until you turn 25 and decide to become a teacher, but anyway.... 

Over the past 5 years, the Brookings Institute at Stanford University has been conducting an extensive study on how stress caused by poverty affects children's brain development. By age 11, children who live in extreme poverty already have 25% less gray-matter in their brains, matter that is essential to executive processes (the part of your brain that tells you how to turn pages in a book, and that number 2 on the page may be linked back to number 1). Children also showed signs of total brain atrophy, as some of the brain (specifically, the hippocampus) were rendered almost useless. Right now the question that plagues researchers is not whether or not these effects are real, but can the damage be reversed.

3. Hating A Book You Were Assigned in School

Unspoken privilege: The means to purchase one or more books of your own; Grade-level reading comprehension.

Oh God, The Scarlet Letter. The Virginian. Tess of of the D’Urbeville’s. Thank God I didn’t have a Facebook in 2002 because it would have been nothing but hatred for those books. I’m sure you had ones you hated, too. And oh, summer reading! I have to read over the summer? When I should be laying in bed until 2 in the afternoon? Oh hell naw.

Southern Education Desk, 2012

But let’s take a look up there at that unspoken list: Grade-level reading comprehension. I believe that one of the most often overlooked and taken-for-granted middle-class, educated privilege is the ability to read. You hated a book because you read it and didn’t like it. You didn’t hate it because you couldn’t read it, because your mom couldn’t read it, and your dad couldn’t read it, and it made you feel stupid and lost and you wanted to give up. 

According to the Barksdale Reading Institute, a pre-k reading initiative here in Mississippi, only 47% of third grade students read at grade level, and that number plummets every year until they reach me when they are 17. I have run endless amounts of data for my students on reading and writing abilities, and I still can't tell you how many read on their grade level. Not because I don't know, but because it's 0%. Even my best and brightest are nowhere near where they should be for being Seniors in high school. It keeps me up at night, honestly. There are students who start first grade who don't know how to hold a book, because they literally have never seen one before. 

There were so many things we felt forced to do- study, read a book, take home our text book, read off the board- that required us to be able to read at or above our own grade level, and we never even knew how lucky we were to meet the challenge.

How lucky we were to meet the challenge.

____

My next entry will focus on connecting these ideas- poverty and privilege- with how this affects how students can excel, and what can be expected of them.

Sources consulted:
http://msucares.com/marriage/research/family_report.pdf
http://www.brookings.edu/research/topics/u-s-poverty#/?tab=1
http://news.stanford.edu/pr/96/960814shrnkgbrain.html
http://childrenshospital.org/newsroom/Site1339/mainpageS1339P896.html
www.visualizingflorida.org

First Year Surviving: How Looking Ahead Is Keeping Me Sane

 Last week I had the worst week of work since my very first. It was the first time I've had to lock my door and cry since the first week of school, the first time I have gotten physically ill due to stress since the first week of school, the first time I have felt like literally walking out and never coming back since the first week of school. I hate to say this, and many of my dear friends will insist to the contrary, but I am probably worse at managing a classroom than if you sent in a literal clown. It's abysmal.

So last week, at the end of 8th period on Thursday afternoon, I stood like I did in several role plays, and like I did during several days of my first few weeks, silently at the back of the room, praying that the bell would ring, holding back tears with every ounce of strength I had. One girl was yelling profanities at me, one of the boys was hanging out of my window yelling at another student, and several other girls were up, walking around, on their phones, and causing relative chaos. And this was my best class all day.

Before that, in 6th period, I had a boy who was humping, hitting, and accosting another girl, breaking her cell phone, and had to be forcible removed from my classroom by a security guard. Before that, in 5th period, I had a girl start screaming the f-word and yelling threats down the hallway because someone threw an orange at her in the lunchroom, again having to be hauled up to the office, where her mother kindly told her she was ok and took her home without consequence. Before that, in 3rd period, two students stormed out because I wouldn't let them keep their cell phones out, and another student cussed at and threatened another student in front of a school board member who was observing me. before that, in 2nd period, a student threw a pencil at another student, starting what can only be described as a situation that the term "Boy, that escalated quickly" was expressly created for. And finally before that, first thing in the morning, first period began with 22 seniors yelling, cussing, storming out, and literally throwing books, because they all failed their take-home test, in which they had 6 days to write 3 paragraphs and a bibliography, and not a single one of them completed it.

This board still looks like this- 5 months later- if that's any indicator

I was mortified, exhausted, starving, panicked, and generally falling apart. I dont know how I'm going to make it to May without changing something, but I know what the problem is and I fear the only way to fix is to make it until August and start over. I am abhorrently inconsistent with nearly everything that I do- consequences, management, assignments, rubrics, grading, schedules, bellringers, exit tickets, rewards. There are no routines, no predictability, and there is utter chaos. I know, not every day is bad. There are days where everything falls into place and I get great objective mastery and I remember to do IA and I get good results and things work out and I feel great. Those days, however, do not outweigh the days where I just think, "Well, I certainly won't do THAT again next year."

One of the things that is keeping me sane, and keeping me trying- in danger of sounding like a cat-owning housewife here- is Pinterest. It may sound odd, but I created a board there called "My Second Year."  I have started collecting all the consistencies and routines and other ideas I plan on starting next year. Right now, I am stuck in February with virtually no consistent strategy built up, so right now unfortunately it is about making it to May. I can't hold my kids accountable for their horrible lunch line and lunchroom behavior, it was because I never consistently enforced my silent lunch line. I can't hold them accountable for not following my rules and procedures, they changed like ten times this year and I never remember to enforce them anyway. Nothing is the same in my room now that it was at the beginning of the year, and that's not due to my kids, it's due to me. I'm not saying that they'd all be angels if it weren't for my shitty management, but they certainly wouldn't be the anarchy-driven, roid-rage bullfighters they are right now. They would know what was expected. I know I can do better.

So on days like today, when I get that turn in my stomach because I know I have to go back tomorrow and try to get a bunch of checked-out seniors and drugged-out juniors to do research papers and critical reading and grammar exercises  I start pinning and writing about next year.  I think about my interactive notebook plan next year, I work on writing my class handbook (Yes, I will have one. Yes, it is long), I choose different strategies I'll use and write about them and choose what system will work best for my students. It gives me hope that it won't always be like this. It reminds me that I'm getting better every day, and I will eventually be the teacher that I want to be.

I won't wake up tomorrow and be perfect at this job, but I can't give up just because it doesn't happen over night.

Like I did with dieting.

The Hardest Job I've Ever Loved....Sometimes

Some days, I don’t love what I do. That is really hard for me to say, but recently it is getting harder and harder to love. The work load is getting greater and the students are getting lazier and I am getting more frustrated and I am feeling less and less motivated.

I have been gone for three days on a conference. I left detailed instructions for each of my students. There were packets with such explicit instructions that they even included “Turn this page” and “Read each number” and “Read the title.” I also attached individual instructions to each packet so that they had individualized instruction per their own topic and how far they had gotten. I worked hard on it. I knew they wouldn’t notice that, but I was confident that they had individual work to complete. They had three days to do it, and I explained in gigantic, bold, all capital letters that read:

LATE WORK WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED. YOU HAVE THREE DAYS TO COMPLETE YOUR PACKET AND IF A COMPUTER MALFUNCTIONS, INTERNET DOES NOT WORK, OR YOU ARE ABSENT ONE OR MORE DAYS, IT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO FIND A SOLUTION. THIS IS FOR A TEST GRADE.

My first period went relatively ok- some students had 50%-75% of the work done, and there were a few 100%’s. I can tell they’re stressed and frustrated with the process, but they are trying hard. 

Sixth period rolled around, and my other group of seniors walked in. I know that tracking doesn’t happen (on purpose), but I don’t know all of these kids ended up in the same period. I have 19 kids in this class, but the most I have on a typical day is 10-12. They skip, they get suspended, they sleep, they text, they get in fights, they refuse to work, they are days behind the other senior class and most of them are failing. I have several pregnant students, addicted students, young parent students, and students that come from very rough home situations- and 90% of those cases are in this class period. It is the perfect storm. The worst, saddest, perfect storm.

They had done nothing. There were excuses ranging from “the internet was down” to “D'artavian started a fight yesterday and punched JT so we couldn’t have class.” I had already checked with the sub, and the internet had never been down and they had had no technical difficulties. Several of the students had skipped all three days I had been gone and this was the first day in class. The other students, as the sub told me, refused to work, slept, and yes, one of them did start a fight (that’s the sixth one in my room for anyone who’s counting). 

But I was just so angry. I got so fed up with how little they would do. I don’t have any class as lazy and determined not to complete a single solitary shred of work for me as this sixth period. They will sit there, no phone in their hand, nothing to distract them, no computer, and they don’t even sleep- they just sit, and stare, and ask for a pencil, paper, a tissue, go to the bathroom, anything and everything to not work, and they will literally just sit there and sink into their desks like melting snow. 

And yes, they get consequences. They get Work Crew, detention, written up, put in ISS. I have had a parent conference, if not two, with the parents of 17 of the 19 students in this class. One of them, I have met with his parents 6 times. It’s not that I haven’t tried. But with the results I have, it seems like I’m not, and that is the worst.

I could just shake them! They are such promising kids! Most of them are “bonafide”- the term they use at my school for seniors who have passed their state tests and can graduate now. There are powerful writers in there, engaged leaders, compelling discussion-starters, and you’d never know it because they are hidden behind a thick fog of laziness and fear and giving up.

I want to hug them and choke them at the same time. I feel like I have tried everything- games, competition, rewards, videos, modeling after modeling after modeling, examples and practice and re-teaching and non-stop individual help. I have sat down with each of them, multiple times, and walked them through this process. Literally the only thing I haven’t done is write the effing thing for them.

So today was a day I did not love my job. Today was a day I was frustrated and sad and angry and I can’t find a solution and I just don’t want to go back.

I hope these days get further and farther between.

I hope.

The Stories I Haven't Written

I know that the last time I posted on this blog was in October, and for that I'm sorry. Many of you I've told stories to over the phone or talking online and explained to you the absolute tilt-o-whirl the last few months have been. For those of you that haven't heard the stories (and to my program director for whom these blogs count as a grade) I am sorry. Every time I sat down to write, I became overwhelmed with the amount of time that had passed and wanted to write another three or four posts because I could write that one, and I got bogged down with the details. I wanted each month, each week, each day to have its own entry, but I see now that's not necessary.

You see, I got punched in the face today. Yep, it's exactly what it sounds like, A girl came into my room and started a fight- the second time this has happened since school started back this semester- but this time in her flailing and throwing punches, I got clocked in the face. And this is the sort of thing that people want to hear about, but in order to get you to where we are now, I need to catch you up.

So in an effort to catch you all up, I will give you the subjects that I was going to writer about in short synopsis. These were the titles, or ideas, that I have wanted to write about since October, but haven't had the chance to. So rather than spend hours upon hours filling up backlogged entries and getting frustrated, here are 4 months of entries all at once:

1. If you want to know what it feels like to love people the way God loves people, become a teacher- you will love with all your heart and physical, emotional, and mental power, people that will never thank you, listen to you, learn from you, or love you back, until they are the farthest from you they will ever be.

2. If you want to know what is wrong with education, what is hurting students and teachers the most,what is making it harder and harder every day to create engaged, knowledgeable, powerful citizens,it is this: the motivation behind every standard, every system, and every test is to make students,teachers, and schools easier to grade. Being a teacher, I know how stressful it is to grade with nuance,understanding, and compassion. Do I give an A to the kid with the stable home, engaged and aware parents, and food on the table every night, while I fail the student who is homeless, with a child at home, and doesn't know where his next meal is coming from? How do I hold them to the samestandard?

The answer is that there isn't a way, but that doesn't stop school boards, superintendents, principals, and conservators, from implementing new system after new system to try to categorize, standardize, and grade what could never, ever be measured to one standard. You can't grade teacher, students, or any other material in these situations to one solid grading system. There must be nuance, understanding, and compassion, and grading on nuance takes a lot of time and even more energy, so no one wants to do it. They want it to be easy, fast, and standard, and it's just impossible. They need to stop trying to make it faster and easier, and accept that it will take a lot of hard work, it will take a tremendous amount of time, and it deserves both.

3. I will not succumb to it, but I am seeing now why teachers give up and burn out in 2 years. My day starts at 5am and it ends at 10pm. Every day my planning period is taken to go to meetings, learn new technology, meet with a grant supervisor or a consultant or, no lie, a guy selling cookware took
my planning period two days ago. My administrators assign me these things on my planning period, and require me to stay for meetings or PD after school, which means they are forcing me to do my schoolwork off the clock at home. This means my planning, my documentation, parents calls, objective
reports, tier evaluation, and every other piece of paper that I have to do for this job is done at home, when I shouldn't be working, This means that sometimes things get half-assed or they just don't get done. I have to have a life, and I have to take care of myself, and I won't force myself to stay up until
midnight to take care of these things.

So sometimes, I turn into the teacher that I hate. I play a movie in class because I have nothing planned. My lessons are not complete and they don't have students in mind. Sometimes all I can think of is, “Get to the bell. Just make it until the bell rings. The day will end.” I hate being that teacher.

4. Being around a culture of violence and poverty is like being around a grease fire- it flares up unpredictably, it spreads quickly, and you can't put it out unless you smother it. I have had two fights in my classroom since the term started, and during the one today I got clocked in the face by a screaming, kicking, cursing teenage girl who had her other fist clamped at another girl's scalp. And you know how it made me feel? It made me feel scared, unsafe, shaky, angry, and it made me want to punch someone in the face.

They threaten each other, hurt each other, and their parents and their parents' parents solve problems this way, and their friends solve problems this way, and this is the only way that they know. And it spreads like a yellow infection. I got to a point today- a very scary point- where I almost hit back. When I got hit and a little while after, I was shaking and absolutely furious. I wanted to go in and grab her by her collar and shake her and slap her. I wanted to get as mad as she had been, for violating my space, my safety, the safety of my students and my boyfriend. I felt that energy that she created, of violence and fear and defense.

As an educator in these places and under these conditions, it is easy to feel helpless. And I may feel a lot of things- frustrated, overwhelmed, angry, taken advantage of- but I never feel helpless. I feel, in fact, that I am in the best possible place to help. I see these kids every single day, in some cases more than their parents. I learn them, I read them, I listen to them, I love them. I can't fix them and I can't fix their situations, but I believe that changing the world starts in the classroom. This was my dream for my whole life, and I'm here and I'm doing it and nothing is going to make that anything less than a miracle. Every day I change the world, and you won't convince me otherwise.

Even if you punch me.

7 Stories

1. October 12

I hear the sound of gravel spreading across pavement and I see kids run past my door in a blur. I look up to the doorway and see more bodies run past it. The bell rang a few minutes ago and the parking lot is teeming with gabbing teenagers and humming car engines. But again there is a noise not familiar to these afternoons- gravel rolling across pavement, the thick thud of something soft hitting the ground, and screaming.

I walk slowly to my door and shut it, and then slowly to my window and peer out. I am not one that is eager to see a fight, so I move carefully. I pray in my own head that it is not one of my students, but as I do I catch my breath in my throat as I see a junior-a girl full of attitude, insults, and promise- from my 8th period pushed onto the ground and her hair pulled violently at the back of her head, bending her neck like a swan's. There is another girl above her, yelling incoherently, her voice scratchy and raw with malice.

Two male teachers rush the scene, prying the two girls apart, all 4 of them falling down in the process. My student pulls out the fray, and rushes inside with a her 3 friends trailing behind her. The other girl is being tackled again and again by the teachers, and I see that she is not from our school. There is a blue truck beside her with an older man in the drivers' seat, but I'm running after my girls who are sprinting down the hallway in tears.

I walk fast to keep up with them, but keep my distance. These four girls that I feel so protective of hate me more than any other students I teach. The girl who is the farthest ahead of us- the one who is sobbing and whose braids are pulled out of her scalp and whose eye is blooming with bruise- by far hates me the most. She yells out in class often how incompetent, cruel, and useless I am. She is written up often. She is a constant struggle. And any teacher will tell you, these are often the students you love the most.

Now she's screaming and crying in the copy room. Her arm is bleeding from hitting the payment and all I want to do- what overcomes me with how badly I want to- is hug her. But I hold back and stand with my arms crossed, looking disappointed and mad, because that is my role. You have had a fight on school property and you will face consequences.

As she flails her arms in the air and screams profanity and threatens to hurt the girl again and she's panicked and crying and louder and louder, the voice in my head says only one thing: "Hug her. Hug her. Hug her."

But instead I suspend her for a week.

2. October 15

He’s miserable. His jacket is pulled up over his head, covering his face from the class. He refuses to read. He refuses to work. I call his name, he yells profanities from under his clothing. He is distracting the entire class and I can not move forward in the lesson because now he is up, running around the room, and I’m trying to get him to calm down and I’m ready to call the office and before I can he’s slamming the door behind him and running out of the building.

His mom went to jail this morning. He doesn’t have a place to go home after school is out. He only owns one jacket and it’s getting colder. He’s running across the parking lot. 

It’s 3:20 and he’s back at my door. He has his essay in his hands, which are dirty and smell like cigarettes and something else. He says he’s sorry. He gives me his essay and asks if I’ll deduct points. I tell him no, it’s still on time, but he got a zero for participation in class. He says he understands. He pulls his jacket sleeves over his fingertips and turns and walks away.

His thesis statement reads, “Faulkner reveals the theme of silent struggle through Hightower’s lack of dialogue, his wife’s secret life, and Hightower’s own obsession with a galloping horse from a long-lost war. Or is the war lost at all?”

I close my door and cry.

3. October 18

I am walking to the front of the class as I instruct NuNu to read the directions on the board. She reads them and stops in the middle and says sourly, "Mane, Ms. T, we don't undastand this story. You need to teach this better! This don't make no sense. We can't take dis quiz."

"Oh you most certainly can. And you need to start now."

She and the other girls in her group sigh loudly, grumble to themselves, and scratch violently at their quizzes with their dull pencils. We have spent 4 days going through Beowulf passage by passage, identifying literary devices, summarizing each section, writing paragraphs and watching movie clips and completing character charts. This is their first quiz.

Nunu writes "You didn't teach this!" in big letters on her quiz. She draws a smiley face next to her name. She hands in her quiz.

We begin the next section of Beowulf, reading through each section in turn, summarizing when we finish, discussing the implications and predicting what will happen next. They take notes. They write

definitions. They circle kennings.

Nunu does her math homework.

"Nunu, do not complain to me that you do not understand this material when you come into my classroom and blatantly ignore what we cover. Put your math homework away and pay attention. Now."

"Why you such a bitch?"

I call the principal's office.

4. October 19

DeeDee walks into my classroom and proceeds to drop his pants down to his basketball shorts, throw his hands in the air, put his sunglasses on, and starts to sing "Bands Make Her Dance."

I walk into the classroom and stare him down. He stops.

"What are you doing DeeDee?" I say in the way he knows exactly the answer I’m looking for. 

He looks down at his shoes and his khaki shorts down around his ankles, "Being creepy and weird" he replies solemnly, “Sorry.”

"That's right," I tell him.

He goes to his desk and sits down. I laugh.

5. October 24

I finish my presentation for the parent meeting on test scores and our Unit Tests and final projects. Two other teachers go after me, and a 10th grade girl reads a poem she wrote. Our principal is standing to the side, smiling and holding her hands clasped in front of her on a manila folder. 

She has only been here two months, only two days longer than myself. She started two days before school started. It’s been tough with a new principal, but things are finally starting to get into a routine. These kids need consistency and leadership they can trust. Even if they don’t like her, as long as she sticks around and continues her follow-through, I think the year can only get better.

The parent meeting ends like every other parent meeting ever has. The principal is at the front of the room, thanking everyone for coming. She asks if there are any more questions. Then she pauses.

“Thank you all for coming and supporting us and your children here at our school. I just.....I want to tell you all that tonight is my last night working at this school. I am far from home and I am ready to move on. Take care of our kids here, teachers. You are all amazing. Thank you.”

She walks out of the room.

Shit.

6. October 25

Three of them are out of their seats. Two are on their cell phones. One is at the back of the room, with another one in his hands, rearing his hands back ready to land a fist onto the other’s cheek. One is at my desk sharpening a pencil. Five are in their desks quietly writing their definitions. Four are crowded in my doorway, screaming indeterminately at the two at the back. Three are absent. Two are sitting on my couch at the front of the class holding hands. 

We have no principal. There is no way to call the office. There is no discipline procedure and there is no office to send any of the students to.

I close my door. I flick the lights. One is in a choke hold. I yell at the back of the room. The fragile, quiet Inclusion teacher wilts away from the scene, her blonde hair glinting past me. I grab the one with the other in the choke hold. He throws his backpack across the room. I yell at the two on the couch to move to their seats. I tell the one in my hands to sit at the front of the room, in my own chair. I tell the other, now rubbing at his collarbone, to sit at the back of the room, in my chair at my desk. I yell to the four in my doorway to find their desks. I set my timer for the 3 minutes they have to finish writing their definition. I tell one more to take his paper and sit down before I kick him out of my classroom.

Three are absent. 19 are in their desks quietly writing their definitions.
7. October 25

There is a knock on my door. It has been a very long, very hard day. Three students were removed from my 2nd period class. I had a parent conference during my planning period. My lessons aren’t finished and my test is not right and my room is a mess and I am so behind on grading it makes my head ache. 

I open my door to the quietest girl that I teach. Her bone-straight hair falls around her face the way she wears it every day. Her features are subtle and sweet, and she smiles at me and I motion for her to come in.

“I know we don’t have enough Ms. T,” she begins, “But I was wondering if I could check out one of the books to read tonight?” She’s talking about Of Mice and Men, her eyes darting to the stack of books on my table by the door.

“Well, you can, but we’re going to finish it tomorrow. You don’t want to read it with the rest of us?”

“I’m afraid something bad is gonna happen to Lennie,” she says, like it’s a real person she knows and is worried for, “and if something happens to him I really want to read it at home. I don’t want to get sad in class.” She won’t make eye contact with me. 

“Well, write down the number you take here, and tell me I can trust you to bring it back to me tomorrow.” She writes her name and the book number on a post-it that I put in my gradebook. “I expect it back first thing in the morning,” I tell her, and close my book.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it, Ms. T,” she says, as she hoists her heavy backpack higher onto her shoulder and turns to go, “I really like the story. I like the way Steinbeck writes, with lots of talking and the guys seem like real people. Thanks for picking this book.”

I smile and tell her, “You’re welcome."

"Education is not the filling of a pail but the lighting of a fire."

The craziest part of this whole thing is that I still get excited about my job.

Before I get to that, I should apologize for my dropping off the side of the earth. As my second month of teaching began and more and more requirements stacked up I had no choice but to disappear. My relationship collapsed, I dropped 15 pounds, I stopped answering the phone and stopped going outside. I went from my bedroom to my kitchen to my car to my job to my kitchen to my bedroom. I stopped laughing. I stopped wanting to go to work. I had to push a reset button and I had to press it fast.

My students were totally out of control and I gave up. I would stand at the front of the class and fight off tears- just like role plays, but you can't run out and you can't try again. The consequence isn't bad feedback; the consequence is 94 kids who did not learn anything. No matter how they act and how much they test me, I love every single one of them, and I was letting them down over and over again. I made myself literally sick with worry and stress, and had to take a half day off to go home and sleep for 16 hours. Things have been indescribably hard. I can never tell any of you what it's like unless you try this work.

But the craziest part of this whole thing is that I still get excited about my job. I spent all afternoon and evening yesterday planning my lessons for my first attempt at teaching real literature. My Juniors will be starting Of Mice and Men, and my Seniors will start Beowulf. Let me say before the teacher-comments start that I know this is insane. With the reading levels that I have and the achievement gap and the 9-weeks ending and the classroom management tortures it is insane for me to start novel units. And I know that nothing will go how I plan it, the kids will revolt and hate it and act like idiots and I'll send them to the office like always and yell and get frustrated and cry 4 nights a week and I will be so mad at myself for getting excited.


But even knowing all that, sitting in front of my lessons and writing activities and finding worksheets and activities and assigning groups and picking Student of the Week, I couldn't help but smile and get excited. Because this is why I wanted to do this- a love of writing, reading, and kids. And that's what I get to get up and do every day. And sometimes I lose sight of that because this is so hard there aren't words enough for it- some days I stand in that classroom and think, "If someone came in here right now and said I could leave this room if I let them punch me in the face ten times, I wouldn't even hesitate." But still, I get excited. I hope that never goes away.

Our program has lost 3 people already, and more and more are suffering and drowning in the same way that I am. I am continually amazed at my own strength and astonished at the strength of my peers in this program. They are some of the most powerful and resilient human beings I have met and I hope to keep them each in my life for the rest of it.

There was one thing that was correct that I knew would be, that this is the hardest year of my life. The list of things I have given up or lost for this work is continually growing, and I will not see thankful, engaged, involved young people as the fruits of my labor for a very, very long time, if ever at all. I may never ever see the affect I have on these kids, and that is a hard fact to know.

But nothing worth doing is ever easy. And if in fact the level of difficulty is directly proportional to the level of worth, then what I'm doing is the most worthwhile thing I will ever accomplish it.

AND I WILL ACCOMPLISH IT.