Last week was a rough week. Technically I had time to post, but things within my collaborative had finally reached critical mass and we had a big, ugly incident that needed mediation and resulted in my disappearing into myself for the last few days of institute. I skipped closing ceremonies and generally avoided being social, and after a few days it more or less blew over, by which I mean we all went home so it doesn't really matter anyway. Or it wouldn't matter, that is, if the one who I don't get along with wasn't in my master's program. Which she is. Meaning we see each other twice a week for the next three years.
There are a few things I could choose to do here, but the only practical one seems to be treating this as a learning experience. I am going to meet plenty of people in this profession who, to my mind, have no business being here. People whose motives are, at best, inscrutable. People who constantly assume the worst. People who aren't doing their kids any favors. I spent some time really upset about this, but after thinking about it a lot and talking it through with Aaron, I'm coming around to the hard reality that I can't be there for everyone. There are going to be bad teachers out there, and while it's a really hard thing to do, you have to focus on your students and on what you can do in your classroom. This summer was hard because I felt like the work I was doing - that three of us were doing - was being actively undermined by our fourth member. But in the fall, it will only be me, and while that should sound scary, it's actually a really comforting thought.
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On our next-to-last day of class, we asked students to write us a letter telling us what they liked about the class, what they didn't like, and what we should do differently in the fall. They gave us a lot of good advice about sticking to our guns, putting ourselves in their shoes, and not lecturing so much. The next day, as students filed out the door and we wished them luck in the fall, one of our most serious and thoughtful students came up to me with four sheets of paper, each folded once and bearing one of our names, and asked me to give them to the other teachers. He had gone home and handwritten these four letters, all four of them deeply personal. To my caucasian female colleague, he wrote that he had been concerned when she opened up a discussion of racism, but that she had handled the difficult topic well, and he asked her to think to herself how she really felt about it. To my mellowest colleague, he wrote that at the beginning, he had thought the teacher would be boring, but that as time passed he had grown to appreciate his style. This is, in its entirety, what he wrote to me.
Hi! I heard tha you are a new teacher
I mean you graduated some months ago.
When I heard you the first time in the class, you sounded like my teacher from elementary (Guatemala C.A.) and I don't know why.
I think you can be one of those teachers that are always helping students I mean individually. You should not take your profession just like a job, be cause being a teacher is not a job is like a "Don" (Spanish word). I was studying to be a teacher in my country (is not a lie I was in college before to come here) but I realized that it was not for me so that's why I'm here now, I cannot be a teacher.
I hope you find a good school. (Not like this one believe me student here don't appreciate good teachers). Espero haya aprendido algo de nosotros.
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Don't worry about my grammar on this letter.
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2 comments:
Ah. The people who aren't doing their kids any favors. Yes, those are the worst. They are also the people who are most likely to believe that they are doing their kids a favor.
They are the ones that seem so out-of-touch and racist. Luckily we don't have that kind in South Dakota, but I remember a few of them from Houston.
The sad thing is that it is different than just thinking that someone is a bad teacher. Because then you could be friends with them; you could try to help them. Some people just seem like maliciously bad teachers. It's like they are trying to be that way or something. I don't know how to describe it. These are the teachers who then objectify their students and talk about how their tutoring has changed some kid's life. That kid is usually named something like Jose Gonzalez, or LaTanya Johnson, or Cheryl Red Hawk.
They make sure to use this kid's name as often as possible.
If a student brings his or her grade up to a B, they act like they created something out of nothing.
It's creepy.
And you know what? It makes TFA and the rest of us in it look bad.
But you're right: all you can do is be yourself, because those people will always be around. Your students, and the rest of us, will be glad that you can at least do this.
I had problems with some girl in Houston, and I shudder to think that she will be a teacher next year.
At the end of the day, I just have to add it to the "can't change" pile and move on.
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It sounds like you made a connection with your student. That was a really touching note that he wrote you.
Per my student: I'd like to think we had a real connection; we spent a lot of time after class chatting about his English, his writing, his life goals, and mostly about the paranormal, especially aliens and self-proclaimed "alien experts." But really, he was (is) just an amazing kid: thoughtful, resilient, and hopeful. The reason we're teaching, basically.
He once wrote an essay about how he's been on parole for like two years because just after he got here from Guatemala some gangbanger ran by and stashed a knife in his backpack, and the cops grabbed him rather than running after the other kid. He knew virtually no English and couldn't explain himself well in court, and the public defender didn't exactly go out of his way either. So: brown skin, shaved head, Hispanic-sounding name = gang member = guilty.
He writes (and talks) about these things with absolutely no malice. He still believes the best about people. He smiles more, and more sincerely, than almost anyone I have ever met.
Blah. "And that's why I...Teach For America."
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You're right: bad practices are changeable. And you're so, so right about teachers who think they're doing favors when they "reward kids for their ideas" by giving them A's for C/D work. The underlying ideology such statements betray just turns my stomach. I make the argument that ideas are important, but they're not the sole point, and suddenly I'm the bad guy for being realistic and not passing kids who just might be on grade level if anyone at any point in their education up until this point had held them back until they were qualified to continue.
The worst of all the repulsive things I heard all summer: "You have to make the kids feel good about themselves sometimes." Of course you do. And I try to do it every single day, by validating their ideas in class and showing them that I'm listening and I care. The speaker of this comment, however, was a proponent of the "reward for thought" school, and one whose classroom manner betrayed no hint of regard for student thought at any point up until this moment. So I ask: who exactly does it help when you tell a kid who hasn't yet mastered SVO word-order that they're excelling, and that they in fact have no more room for improvement? It helps you boost your ego and your SG stats, and it helps a racist system perpetuate itself. Period.
I still have some anger. I'm working on it.
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