processing

I probably don't have time to be writing this. For one of my grad classes, I have to make a graphic organizer through technology, somehow, related to my next unit... HAH.

I mean, not exactly. But if I sat and wrote out how completely crazy my classroom (which is now combined with L's class next door... not counting my resource kids) has become and may be again tomorrow if my principal decides to split the room up (already threatened... not exactly as a threat, but as a "this is what's best for your class and we know because we haven't been in it all year but we're going to make decisions that completely screw you over and then will tell you it's not a big deal" kind of way that is how every decision in my school seems to get made), or complained about my administration (more than I already have- poor Ems already heard a rant about that today though) this post would be longer than they usually are.

I realized tonight though that this blog is how I "process" everything. So, grad school be damned (not really. I am determined to get an A in this class, for once- well, twice- in my grad school career). But really, technological graphic organizer? I mean, that'd be great if I had the resources to do it. Or knew if I was going to be in the same classroom to do it. Or which students, or which subject, or anything. But in a year that has been supposedly all about being "data driven" instruction, really, planning and assessing lessons has really been the bottom of the list of what I've been forced to prioritize. And so my students lose. Again.

I've been thinking a lot about the relationships I have with my students. Why, exactly, do I love Cyrus so much? Versus, say, Pockets? I mean, I had Cyrus the whole year and Pockets only a few months. And I love Pockets, I think he's hilarious and really smart. But Cyrus I kind of want to adopt. Not even kind of. Do. I won't (Grandma, stop worrying...). He has a mother who's cleaned up and gotten her act together (except for her husband, apparently, who's been banned from the school building), who loves him and takes good care of him, and I certainly don't have the financial or logistical capability to take care of a kid right now. But there is just about nothing in the world that I wouldn't do for him. We keep having these conversations about my not being there next year (as I feel more and more like my administration is shoving the very, very short, chewed up, dirty and bug infested end of the stick my way, if not in an orifice, this is becoming more and more clear a decision). He's not trying to guilt me, exactly, just sort of letting me know that he's got no real incentive to even show up to school, much less do better, if I'm not around. And he's kind of distanced himself from anyone in the classroom that would get him in trouble- which, since my class is full of chatterboxes, would be most people. It breaks my heart to not be there for him next year. I explained to him that he would have my email address, and my phone number, and that I fully expected to be invited (and would come back) for eighth grade, high school, and college graduation, and any graduations that he had after that. He mock complained about it for a minute but agreed that he would invite me to them (implicitly agreeing that he was going to graduate at all those levels- hurray!). In the same way that moving away from family and friends is really difficult, I just can't imagine going to work every day and not having him there. The sheer effort he has been making to be a good student and separate himself and grow up is kind of staggering. It's hard, and it's lonely, and it shows on his face. Sometimes when I look at his face in class I can almost watch him struggling to mature inside himself, even while doing something total banal (today, worksheets like identifying conjunctions and interjections). This is going to sound completely cheesy, but knowing what he's been through and is trying to become and watching him go through that struggle every day gives me hope for humanity. I look at him and think that there is some inherent goodness or nobility of spirit or something deep inside him that is just awe-inspiring.

And been thinking about my relationship with other kids, as random as they get. LJ comes to see more often than any of my other resource students, BJ included. I know it makes some of the other teachers nervous. It makes me nervous some days. Friday we had a half day, professional development. I drove to Wawa to get lunch (for those of you not in the tri-state area, Wawa is one of the most amazing places known to mankind. It was the thing I missed most after my family and friends when I moved to Chicago). LJ had actually been suspended that day, but on my way back to school I drove by the house of a friend of his (who actually had come to see me with BJ earlier, but then cut school- I saw them running out of the building the beginning of the last period of the day). They were hanging out on the porch, and when they saw me the started yelling for me to slow down, because they wanted to talk. The house is across a field from the school, but literally within shouting distance and plain view. It was hot out, so I had all my windows down, and I started talking to K, BJ's friend (who had helped me grade papers after spending a very awkward few minutes trying to figure out my sexuality a few days before- LJ had decided that I looked like I "swing both ways" I think to see if he could set me up with Ms. Lez, and the whole little crew really seemed to want to know) out the window about why he cut school. LJ jumped off the porch with an adorable dog (are there really any other kinds?) on a leash and ran around to my passenger window. I figured he'd just stick his head in the window to chat, so I kept talking to K, but then he unlocked the door and jumped in the passenger seat- with his dog.

"Drive! Drive!" he yelled.

I was confused. There were no police around, I wouldn't exactly be the best getaway car or a willing accomplice, no matter how funny or smart I think he is, and he had just been chilling out on a friend's porch in plain view, within a couple hundred feet of the school.

"Um, I'm going back to the school. I can drive you back to the school, but I'm not going anyplace else- just because students have a half day doesn't mean teachers do."

"Oh yeah. Forgot about that. Well, you can just drop me off here then. I just wanted to chat."

And... we chatted, he told me to have a good weekend, and he got out of the car and walked back to K's. Like I said. Random.

Yesterday he asked me if I told security that he brings drugs to school.

"I actually never talked to security about you. But when I talk to people in administration I tell them that you usually have me search your bag when you come in to prove you don't have drugs with you, or empty out your pockets."

"Oh. Good." He paused for a minute. "You can't search my bag today."

I did anyway, when he left the room, mostly because what he said made me suspect that he did bring drugs or worse. Not very thoroughly, but I didn't find anything. He could tell, I'm not sure how. But we wound up having a long talk about prison (he's upset that I think he's going to wind up there) and jobs and money, and he actually admitted that he wants to go to college someday. I wonder if I actually am making any progress with him at all or if he's smart enough to make me think I am to pacify me so I'll keep letting him come down and spend time with me and occasionally his friends. It's not like we have a party- I occasionally have candy and he uses the computer once in a great while. Past that I'm not sure what he gets out of watching me give mind-numbing tests to other kids. I'm even bored by them. You couldn't pay me to sit and watch someone else take them if I didn't absolutely have to. But he actually likes it.

He was excited today because he didn't get suspended- we have an ongoing joke about how I never see him more than one day at a time because he gets suspended pretty much every day that he comes to school.

Might process a little more later, but it's looking like time to do my homework... blech.

To J- Can I even tell you how thrilled I would be if all my students actually understood and remembered all the information in the SchoolHouse Rock video? God, I fantasize about having students that care enough to use mp3 players to cheat like that. Do you realize how technologically proficient they'd have to be to even get that far? That's like, mastery of two national standards right there. Oh, No Child Left Behind. Except- oh, wait, no, that doesn't work at all... maybe, No Rich Child With MP3 Players and Knowledge of Advanced Computer Technology From Well Educated But Neurotic Parents Left Behind? There we go...