self-sabotage

The only thing worse than having your students fail because they are either a) not getting it or b) not paying attention (and they usually, if not always, get it when they are paying attention) is having to fail students who can do the work because they are cheating off each others' papers. I have not been hard enough on this, but that changes now, especially since I have talked to one of these kids about it before. I wish I could say it just makes me sad - and that's what I'm going to tell them - but in all honesty, it pisses me off. I know they're insecure and they're scared because they're all on the pass/fail border, but you'd think that would make them more inclined to do their own work, not less. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with them? Do they think I won't notice that they are all writing the exact same misspelled sentences in the free response section? It drives me crazy, because I already know that they will look me straight in the eye and tell me they absolutely did not cheat. Then they will explode in rage at the merest suggestion that I might take off any points. Boy, will they be surprised when I tear up their papers and they get a zero for the assignment.

That is my grading pen, right there. Woot.

drink first, then grade

So, the 100 was actually pretty cool, especially once my PD showed up, informed me that they had $1000 to spend on liquor, and insisted that I stop paying for drinks. Now. I told him I was so done, I would chuck my high-ball glass onto the dance floor and never look back. He mixed me a much-less-watered-down drink, My People started showing up, and things got markedly better all-around. We even had a Small World moment, discovering that Aaron went to elementary school with one of my good Program friends' roommates, who I have never really gotten to know. Also, I am getting better at walking/dancing in heels. The pathetic thing is that I don't wear anything taller than a kitten heel - maybe 3/4 of an inch at the tallest. Heels mess up your feet, though, for real. I try to wear sneakers in the classroom about 3 days a week, and flats the other 2.

This morning I slept in good and late, knowing I'd need all my strength for the Test-Grading Day I have planned. Grading days can be really depressing. They can also be really freeing, though. Today, for example, I am going to rid myself of about 10 pounds' worth of paper and the constant neck-and-shoulder-ache I get from carrying them around. The backache will be around until I quit the profession - or start sitting at my desk during the school day. Guess which of these things will happen first.

improvement / celebration

Things were better this week. My students are starting to mellow out, and the big problems are gone, leaving me with the dreaded and continual talking while I am talking problem. I met with my PD and came up with a kickass action plan, and a couple of other teachers in my SLC came over to my room with a plan all drawn up to nip it in the bud: since next week is only 3 days, they're each taking two of my biggest troublemakers, first thing in the morning, no questions asked. I'll give them a book and an agenda for the day and then they'll go sit in these well-behaved classrooms, isolated from their friends, facing the wall, and they will do their work silently. If this happens, they will be allowed to come back to my classroom after Thanksgiving. If it does not, they will continue to work in Solitary.

It sounds cruel but it will absolutely work.

This leaves me free to deal with my other, more serious problems: my English class lacks any kind of momentum or urgency, and my Advanced ESL class is still failing their reading comprehension. I'm feeling a tremendous sense of relief - these are the problems I was hired to deal with, not a bunch of post-middle schoolers who refuse to spit out their gum and put the goddamn nano away.

As I type I'm getting ready to go out on Program bid-ness. The LA 100 is a Program tradition, maybe even the Program tradition in my region. After 100 days in the classroom, we all get together and go out for a night of drinking, dancing, and cavorting at some super-trendy nightclub. I'm actually not that into it, but some of my favorite Program people, including my PD, my best Institute friend, and my best credentialing class friends will be there, and there's no cover, and I made a deal with my friend Hess that if we go, and it sucks, we leave immediately after the free champagne and seek out a dive bar. I'd kinda rather just do that to begin with, but I guess that's why I wasn't asked to organize the 100.

watchword: purposeful

So I went all Program-nuts after last week's observation made me realize that I am just sort of going through my scripted program for the sake of going through the scripted program. This is death in the classroom. If I do not have a clear purpose for being there, why should my students?

I went in on my day off and tracked out all my objectives and made calls to have people come into my classroom to support me and made a behavior log, all of which is very exciting and has already changed my approach, if not the whole mood of my classroom. I also had my head of department make phone calls home. Until now I had doubted the power of the phone call home, but Oh. Man. You should have seen them this morning, slinking in like dogs with their tails between their legs. They just sort of sat there, sullen, for the first hour of class, doing the work and occasionally shooting me a death glare. It was awesome. Then they got over it, and things were back to semi-chaos. But a little better.

Had a very serious conversation with The Firestarter today in which it was made expressly clear that if I so much as heard the flick of a lighter, his ass was OT'd down to Watts, no questions asked. Then I moved him front and center, away from his friends. We will see how that goes.

Lots of my kids are failing, which sucks. The good behavior class too, not the bad one, as the work is just a lot harder. (NOT my fault. Talk to the scripted program.) It does not help that anything below a 70% is a fail; most of these kids actually have what would traditionally be called a D. I swear, wherever we as a society set the bar, that's where they aim. Mostly, they are failing because of reading comprehension, as opposed to speaking, writing, or vocabulary. Very interesting - you would think you could pass that part of the test just by matching up the sentences on your exam with those in the book. It takes zero thought, right? But my kids lack test-taking skills. All of them, not just the ESL kids. It's really sad, just another example of how suburbanites are better prepared for success - no one's sending my students to SAT prep classes (though they are eligible for all kinds of free tutoring, which none of them are taking advantage of.) The scripted program is really good about building in practice for most other skills, but this is one area where I'm definitely going to have to supplement.

One of the Program Ten at my school quit her job on Thursday, and one of my best Program-Friends is talking about quitting. We all go through periods in which we're really despondent. At this point we've been in the classroom just long enough to get past the initial question - How do we get through to these kids? - and arrive at the real question - No, really - how the f*ck do we get through to these kids?

No word on how long you must remain in the classroom before arriving at an answer.

crashing back down

Of course you knew it could not last.

Today...yes. Today was rough. They are re-promoted to Nightmare Class. One of them stole my glasses today, though at least they were not on my face at the time. He is kind of a klepto, can't seem to help himself from stealing things like pencil sharpeners and random papers off my desk - and I really think he needs to be evaluated by the SpEd people as he also can't sit still or keep quiet or look directly at any one thing for longer than about 90 seconds. Today I also busted him spitting out his gum - which is forbidden in my class for exactly this reason - directly onto my floor. What has happened in these kids' lives for them to have so little respect for their environment? You just have to walk around the neighborhood to answer that one, I guess. There is this shopping cart full of bizarre garbage - abandoned by a homeless person, perhaps, though South Central seems not to have homeless people in the street-dwelling sense - lying turned on its side about a block from my school. It has been there for almost two weeks, trash spilling out across the sidewalk, and no one is making any moves to dispose of it. The worst is that when someone runs over a pigeon or something, it takes a couple of days before someone from the city comes down to clean it up, or someone from the neighborhood gets worried enough about disease to risk doing it themself.

Tangent. Sorry. Anyhow, tomorrow: big changes. I had this whole list of ordered consequences before the break, and then things got crazy, and I kind of forgot about them. They are not even up on my walls. As a result, the kids get warned 3,000 times per day with zero follow-through. Just warnings and talks outside, which really work on the days when my instigators are absent (witness: yesterday) and are just a lot of fun for them on the other days (witness: today.) So tomorrow, the consequences are up and we follow them, in order, no exceptions. There are only five levels before they're referred to the dean, and as I have been warning some of them (shame) in excess of five times a day, I fully expect my class size to be reduced by about 30% by the end of the period. They won't go to the dean - not unless anything else gets stolen, a-hem, regardless of whether or not it is swiftly located and returned by my other, wonderful students - as I don't want to abuse that avenue and destroy the relationship for when one takes a swing at the next and I really do need it. But I know which teachers they are scared of, and I have already warned them that they will be having guests.

Hilarious: one of my students wrote on the papered-over chalkboard that serves as my information wall. It says "PUSSY FUCK." Ummm...yes. We do need to work on those rules of grammar.

Not hilarious: this class knows my first name and they use the hell out of it. Like if I am talking to one student and take too long (over 30 seconds) transferring my attention to another, they will start hollering. "HEY! HEY JASMINE!"

The first one to do this tomorrow goes straight out of my classroom. We have had the "respect" talk too many times. They know what the rule is. But that is not the same as abiding by it.

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I think I am so frustrated because today was such a complete waste of time. First and second were spent attempting, ineffectually, to corral the kids, third and fifth we had an assembly, and sixth was kind of a wash. We are learning note-taking and my kids are either not getting it or bored out of their minds with it. Really, it could be both. The assembly was a bizzare hodgepodge of ideas: free tutoring! global warming! dress code! job-appropriate attire! crystal meth makes your heart a-splode! Then some ex-gangbangers from San Diego talked to us about the conditional love of the streets and how prison is terrifying even if you think you are hard. Unsettling take-homes from the assembly:

• Ex-G asks students how many plan to play pro ball, and enough to stock two full expansion teams - per assembly - raise their hands. Instead of "bein' real," as purported, Ex-G chastizes the other students for laughing at them, telling us that we must believe in ourselves above all else because "anything is possible." He himself just finished filming a new movie with Xzibit and The Rock.
• Principal, himself a brownish black, consistently refers to students as "black and brown people."
• Principal, in denouncing the gang lifestyle, asks, "Ladies, who do you want to marry? The guy who's running around getting shot up and probably going to prison or dead, or the guy who's going to make some good money, and provide for you and your babies?"

Ex-G does say one interesting thing, when he talks about his family on drugs and in prison and how hard life can be for a kid from the inner city, and he asks, "How many of you try to look good so others can't see the pain you're feeling inside?" No joke, 3/4 of the hands in that auditorium shot up without even a moment's hesitation. It was the only moment that felt real, not like some corporate-sponsored cautionary tale, which of course it was. I looked at all their faces then, and for just a second, they looked very old. I think it was the self-awareness, more than the pain.

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I ran into Ms. M today, the new teacher who took over my long-term sub position. She was stressed to the max and said she was starting to doubt that this school was the right place for her. I tried to encourage her, and I hope to God she doesn't quit. She is a good teacher and my kids - er, my ex-kids - have already been abandoned too many times. This stress and uncertainty, that feeling like all you do at work is punish yourself for eight straight hours, is one of those wounds that time will heal - for her, for me, for all new teachers. It's just a matter of hanging in there, and making sure you are learning while you do so. If you are paying attention, it is impossible not to learn every day.

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In other news, I am kind of (read as: desperately) wishing that friends will come down and visit me this fine Veterans Day weekend, but they are busy and this will almost assuredly not happen. So instead I may go to Homecoming, ha ha. It depends on if any other Program members or first-year teacher friends want to go with me. It could be kind of fun, and we have all these hours of "extra" stuff we have to do each month, like our jobs aren't friggin time-consuming enough. Anyway, my seniors ask me every single day if I am going, and some of them are up for royalty (gag), and my mentor says he wants to see me there too. So we will see. There are worse ways to spend a Friday night.

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In still other news, I voted today. If you live in Cali, and you did not vote, and 74 passes, I am coming for you. I will have lots of time to hunt you down and break your kneecaps once the Governator personally comes down here, fires me, and turns over control of my school to The State.

beautiful monday

Today was a good day. I am cradling it in my hands.

First/second, previously my nightmare class, has been downgraded to my headache class. Last week we did the whole "practicing coming into the room, picking up our books, and sitting down like human beings" business, and we did the "if you are not here to learn, leave right now" act with the holding-open of the door, and we played the "for every minute we waste we will stay one minute at nutrition" game, and we did the we-are-not-amused thing, and all of this kind of helped but not really. Then several of them failed their first test because they were not doing their classwork and were therefore unprepared. The "staying after" bit probably bothered them more, though.

And then, somehow - and I do not know how this happened - I found myself sitting down at eye level with two of my biggest troublemakers, laughing. They gawked at how I hold a pencil, and they showed me how to bend just the top joint of your fingers, and then they lurched at me like zombies, and we were sitting there, just laughing, and I had this epiphany. I had not laughed with this class at all. Not even once. And then I got to thinking, wow. All of the things that make me a good first-year teacher, when I am one - patience, humor, personal connections, individual check-ins and explanations - were completely missing. I was doing the authori-tah dance, and leaving them responsible for monitoring their learning - the complete inverse of my ideal classroom, in which they self-police and I make sure they're getting the material. It was a slap in the face. So things changed.

Today we were about halfway through class when Omar, one of my zombie-lurchers, raised his hand (!!!) and said, "Miss, we better today!" He was right, and he was happier, and I was happier. So the new strategy is, no irritation on my face. Not ever. We count down 5-4-3-2-1 for silence - they respond well to it, and it's the only signal that doesn't completely make me gag. When we have a problem, the problem kids come and talk to me, and each other, outside. It goes like this:

A, explain what happened. B, you just listen.
Now B, you explain what happened. A, you just listen.
Okay. What should you have been doing?
If you were both doing that, would X have happened?
What are you going to do when you walk back into my classroom?
Now tomorrow, I expect you to be my star students. Best in the class. Can you commit to that?
I look forward to it. Come on back in.

It's funny, but the part that makes the biggest difference is the "star students" bit. They really do commit to it, and they come through. It is amazing, and it's all starting to gel.

I was also observed today, with my seniors, who are the coolest, mellowest class. We did this A.MA.ZING activity called Cube Writing (Amelie, hit me up for a copy - get your kids to write developed 2-page essays in-class! No joke!) to come up with a first draft for the autobiographical sketch required in their senior portfolios. The class is small, which can feel awkward because it's necessarily more seminar-style and my students are used to being lectured at, but today it was cool. We were joking and learning about each other and my review was outstanding, which was nice. But really it was all about the feeling when it all works.

Who knows how tomorrow will go. I'm tempted, though, to just type up a handout for my seniors, then head to bed and leave this day perfect. Worry about it in the morning.

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Speaking of worrying in the morning:

Tomorrow is November 8th. To all my Cali people: Yes, it is supposed to rain tomorrow. I do not care. You get your asses out there in the rain and vote. Early and often, as they say. Influence as many people as you can. Be incredibly irritating to anyone not wearing an "I Voted" sticker. There is some mess on the ballot this time around, and we must send the message that we are tired of being jerked around by the government-industrial complex, and that we want Arnold, his cronies, and his financeers out of our schools, out of our unions, and out of our pregnant womens' wombs, minors or otherwise. With that said:

• NO on 73 through 78.
• YES on 79 and 80.
• And a resounding YES, for my LA people, on Prop Y. Pay the taxes, build the schools, and burn year-round minority sabotage to the ground.

But if you only remember one thing:

NO ON 74

NO ON 74

NO ON 74

NO ON 74

NO ON 74