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...
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
you were bad once...
Today for some reason felt kind of emotionally difficult. Can't imagine why- not like that ever has happened other days. Nope, every other day has been happy and cheerful and I've left work postively perky. Chirping with joy about the innocence and wonder of childhood.
Another teacher told me today that sarcasm doesn't kick in until seventh grade. Sixth grade a lot of the kids get it, but not quickly, and there's still some who go, "Wait, really?" and have to be told explicitly that you're messing with them. By seventh grade, the cynicism they've built up in their teachers has become more obvious.
Found out today that Gamer's (I think I called him Farter in previous posts...) dad is schizophrenic. I was on the verge of calling DHS on his family; he comes in with dirty clothes, poor hygeine, and gets hysterical if anyone mentions contacting his parents. Old anecdotal record logs in his file show his previous teacher had the same suspicions I did. Now I think maybe he's manipulating us, which is a hard thing to think about a kid, but I feel a lot more sympathy for his mom. Not going to go into more details now, but I think she just felt defeated, and I actually felt an honest conversation with her which I've never felt with him. Also found out that one of my girls was hospitalized a few days ago for a mental breakdown (actually the girl who Gamer enraged to the point of beating him over the head with a social studies textbook. those babies are big), along with one of L's kids who was in my after school program (not together, it just happened at roughly the same time). And had a conversation with Jamie that made me wonder if he's got a tinge of sociopath in him. It was a terrific morning.
I actually had a wonderful conversation with one of my seventh grade resource kids- the one his teacher was afraid was in a gang. I haven't seen him in a few days, so she called to tell me he was present. I saw him at the end of the day and did some IEP testing with him. In the middle he mentioned he had just passed a math test- and actually, he didn't only pass it, he got a B, which, for him, is terrific. And he has another test tomorrow, and had the study guide to it in his pocket, and could explain to me all of the stuff he was going to be tested on. I was so excited I kept hugging him and offered him a period of anything he wanted to do on Friday if he got an A on the one tomorrow- and it's a hard subject for kids his age, adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing fractions (with unlike denominators! and he knew about numerators and denominators! I almost died of happiness. I'm going to go hug his math teacher tomorrow. I think the only honest form of positive communication I have these days is hugs. not so much a good thing in my job, as I could probably be fired for it). Computer time, cake, whatever. It was pretty much the first and only positive thing to happen today. He's right on that brink between where my sixth grade wannabe-badasses are and my eighth grade actual-badasses are. Most of the time I spend with him is really doing self-esteem stuff; he told me last week there's nothing he actually likes about himself. It was kind of heartbreaking. We've been working on journaling, with a list of things he likes about himself in it that he can add to whenever he wants. Of course LJ came down while I was with him. LJ comes to see me more than any of my other students, I think. He told me today that BJ was in love with me.
"You know, J is in love with you. He says you're dazzling."
I shrugged.
"Somehow I'm not convinced. If he loves me so much, how come he doesn't come to school to see me?"
This apparently hadn't occurred to him.
"You actually want him to come to school?"
I guess they don't hear that much, or at least not that they think is sincere. I don't blame anyone for that; if they were in my classroom all day I probably wouldn't want them to come to school either. But it occurred to me that LJ might actually have a crush on me. Not just the lust that his friends have rather crudely remarked on that they seem to share, but an actual crush. I barely even talked to him today, and warned him of that.
"I have to do testing, so I'm going to be kind of boring today. You're welcome to hang out, though."
He shrugged. He wanted to help my seventh grader with the test, and actually wanted to take it himself. LJ is actually kind of ridiculously smart, I think. I wish there were some way to channel it that I could see, in the next 30ish days of school that he might actually attend. I told him he would make a good teacher, but he laughed at me. I would too if I were him. Who wants to take that kind of paycut?
Another teacher told me today that sarcasm doesn't kick in until seventh grade. Sixth grade a lot of the kids get it, but not quickly, and there's still some who go, "Wait, really?" and have to be told explicitly that you're messing with them. By seventh grade, the cynicism they've built up in their teachers has become more obvious.
Found out today that Gamer's (I think I called him Farter in previous posts...) dad is schizophrenic. I was on the verge of calling DHS on his family; he comes in with dirty clothes, poor hygeine, and gets hysterical if anyone mentions contacting his parents. Old anecdotal record logs in his file show his previous teacher had the same suspicions I did. Now I think maybe he's manipulating us, which is a hard thing to think about a kid, but I feel a lot more sympathy for his mom. Not going to go into more details now, but I think she just felt defeated, and I actually felt an honest conversation with her which I've never felt with him. Also found out that one of my girls was hospitalized a few days ago for a mental breakdown (actually the girl who Gamer enraged to the point of beating him over the head with a social studies textbook. those babies are big), along with one of L's kids who was in my after school program (not together, it just happened at roughly the same time). And had a conversation with Jamie that made me wonder if he's got a tinge of sociopath in him. It was a terrific morning.
I actually had a wonderful conversation with one of my seventh grade resource kids- the one his teacher was afraid was in a gang. I haven't seen him in a few days, so she called to tell me he was present. I saw him at the end of the day and did some IEP testing with him. In the middle he mentioned he had just passed a math test- and actually, he didn't only pass it, he got a B, which, for him, is terrific. And he has another test tomorrow, and had the study guide to it in his pocket, and could explain to me all of the stuff he was going to be tested on. I was so excited I kept hugging him and offered him a period of anything he wanted to do on Friday if he got an A on the one tomorrow- and it's a hard subject for kids his age, adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing fractions (with unlike denominators! and he knew about numerators and denominators! I almost died of happiness. I'm going to go hug his math teacher tomorrow. I think the only honest form of positive communication I have these days is hugs. not so much a good thing in my job, as I could probably be fired for it). Computer time, cake, whatever. It was pretty much the first and only positive thing to happen today. He's right on that brink between where my sixth grade wannabe-badasses are and my eighth grade actual-badasses are. Most of the time I spend with him is really doing self-esteem stuff; he told me last week there's nothing he actually likes about himself. It was kind of heartbreaking. We've been working on journaling, with a list of things he likes about himself in it that he can add to whenever he wants. Of course LJ came down while I was with him. LJ comes to see me more than any of my other students, I think. He told me today that BJ was in love with me.
"You know, J is in love with you. He says you're dazzling."
I shrugged.
"Somehow I'm not convinced. If he loves me so much, how come he doesn't come to school to see me?"
This apparently hadn't occurred to him.
"You actually want him to come to school?"
I guess they don't hear that much, or at least not that they think is sincere. I don't blame anyone for that; if they were in my classroom all day I probably wouldn't want them to come to school either. But it occurred to me that LJ might actually have a crush on me. Not just the lust that his friends have rather crudely remarked on that they seem to share, but an actual crush. I barely even talked to him today, and warned him of that.
"I have to do testing, so I'm going to be kind of boring today. You're welcome to hang out, though."
He shrugged. He wanted to help my seventh grader with the test, and actually wanted to take it himself. LJ is actually kind of ridiculously smart, I think. I wish there were some way to channel it that I could see, in the next 30ish days of school that he might actually attend. I told him he would make a good teacher, but he laughed at me. I would too if I were him. Who wants to take that kind of paycut?
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
do you like coming to school and hearing about all this stuff?
This post is gonna start a little differently. If you're a regular reader of this blog, and procrastinate much like I do by, well blog-surfing, you may have checked out "the colon chronicles". This is a link to a blog of a girl I knew in Chicago through capoeira (hence the portugese sprinkled through her site), who was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer a while back and managed to pull through some truly nightmarish times, and has done so with some amazing good humor. Unfortunately, some more are still ahead for her, as the medical bills have piled up. I'm perpetually a step away from being a financial disaster, despite a steady paycheck and as-needed help from a wonderful and supportive family. I can't even begin to imagine how hard going through that kind of experience would be, even without the financial ramifications... anyway, her website, www.cancer-sucks.com, has a donation button on it, and I wanted to do a quick plug for her. This is sort of an anonymous favor (and how awkward to do it in blog form, right?)- I never knew her as well as I wanted to back in Chicago when we both might've had the time, and have only been following her story from afar through friends and internet updates for the last few months. I doubt she knows her blog is even linked to my blog, if she even knows I have one. She's just somebody I've grown to admire greatly for her attitude and strength, from a distance, and I think she deserves some good karma at this point. So check it out, and try to help if you can.
I got another resource student today. Haven't met her yet. I have to write something like 10 IEPs in the next two weeks. Fun! (And so of course, I procrastinate by writing here instead...)
I rarely get to meet with my resource kids consistently, though, as they all seem to be suspended so often that they're rarely in school more than a few days in a row. LJ has decided to come see me even when BJ's not there. Yesterday I went to go meet with an eighth grade girl that I hadn't actually gotten to talk to yet. LJ came with me (his teacher was hoping he'd cut, but he showed up while I was at her door, so she asked if I could take him instead so he didn't disrupt her class). Jabberwock is the girl's teacher, and told me she had warned him that when it got nice out she was going to stop coming to school. Academically, she's doing fine (it's amazing how many of these kids have no business in special ed...), except in one class where she doesn't seem to be getting along with the teacher, so we started talking about cutting class, and school, and why they do it. She and LJ knew each other already, so the conversation got pretty open pretty fast.
My resource kids don't seem to think of me like a teacher, exactly... they tell me stuff I know they wouldn't think of telling other teachers. I can't tell if it's because I'm young, or because I'm very honest with them, or what. But it gets to the level that I sometimes remind them that I'm obligated to report certain things. LJ, for example, has brought a bookbag to school twice in the last week. Now, LJ never brings a bookbag to school- the school supplies he evidently needs (like condoms) fit in his pocket. He's a smart kid- he knew more than BJ did on the tests I gave him, and BJ did pretty well- but he's pretty comfortable with his future as a high school drop-out, so why bother? So when he brought a bag to school, the logical assumption his teachers made was that he brought drugs or weapons to school. He made a joke about it to me (prompting a "I have to report certain things" talk) but then encouraged me to search it. My assumption, following that, is that he brought something in, unloaded it quickly, and knowing that the administration knows I have a relationship with him and would ask me about him, gave himself a cover by having me search it. He also started telling me about his gang, the initials of which he has tattoed on his arm. He and Alexa started giving me a rundown of the local gangs (among other things... hence Alexa's question, the title of this post). I'm still trying to learn details of the gang that tagged my car. I asked him about them, but he didn't seem to know much, or not much that he would admit. His gang, at least the kids I assume are in his gang, that come to visit me, know what my car looks like- they can't get over that I drove to BJ's house after school. Evidently home visits are out of fashion these days. In the back of my mind I think I felt nervous that they would check the car out and see another gang's symbol and make some kind of connection that would get me caught in some drama. But maybe it'll work out the opposite way; they all obviously like me, so maybe it'll be like I have some loose protection of two gangs, should I ever need it. Friends in low places, right? He had talked to me about the gang before, but I was too slow to put together the pieces. I didn't really make the connection, although I had suspicions, until another teacher asked me about another student we both have, a 7th grader, to see if he was in a gang, because another kid in her same class who got stabbed last week is, and she wanted to know if they were in the same one. Jellyroll, from my class, told me he was there when the stabbing happened but I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him about it. I can't imagine him in a gang, but then I've learned my lesson about never saying never about students- and he was, after all, the kid that brought the cap gun to school. I don't know why it's taken me so long to make all these connections, but it only suddenly hit me today how common gangs are in my school and how many of my kids are in them. It's a little disturbing, actually.
Speaking of disturbing... Jamie (formerly referred to as Dae), Huffy, Gecko, and two other kids (neither of whom have nicknames yet) got suspended for beating up Jellyroll in the bathroom. I'm so disgusted I can barely stand it. Only one actually did it, but the rest guarded the door so Jr couldn't get out. It makes me so angry... Now he has to leave the class, too, and of the group I think he's the only one who was truly sorry for his roll in beating up Squirrel. He was my new secret favorite, the one with a conscience, and he was a really good student on top of that. The fact that they were all his close friends at the beginning of the year just makes it worse. The kid who actually beat him up is just nuts. I don't really even blame him, because I think he just truly has no control over himself at all and really should be hospitalized, but the others...
I'm starting to feel like I've run out of emotion. I'd like to be really angry and upset, but mostly I'm just tired of it. I hugged Cyrus when I found out he wasn't a part of it. And it makes me sick that I'm thankful when one of my kids isn't participating in group beatings. I want to be hugging him for perfect test scores, or winning football games, or showing excellence in some way. And while I rationalize it by looking at how far he's come- to stay out of trouble, when it's all you've known and been in, all your life, and is all that is expected of you, and all your friends are doing it, during the most peer-motivated period of your life, is truly remarkable, and a sign to me of strength and growth and maturity- but it still makes me sick to think that there's a possibility he'll never be held to higher standards and expected to grow to his full potential.
I got a loose job offer, last week, for an electoral organizing job that in many ways is exactly what I want to do and an incredible opportunity. But I feel racked by guilt at the thought of leaving my kids, and my school, even though a few months ago I was ready to do it out of spite and anger and frustration and thought I made the decision for good. I told a couple of the kids there was a possibility I wouldn't be there next year, mostly Cyrus. Cyrus told me if I left he had no reason to come to school. It'll be an ongoing conversation, but I tried to explain to him that the best thing he could do for me was to show me that he could succeed without me, because I'm not always going to be there for him, even if I want to be, but that I will always love him and will know that he really is the person I know he can be if he is his best even when I'm not there. And that that, actually, is the test. I know he'll be his best when I'm there, because I'll make him, but if he'll do it for me even when I'm not there then I'll know he really truly has become his best, both for me and for him. It was a big knife in the heart; it's not that he doesn't have other reasons. He's popular and athletic- he's quarterback of the local football team, which he's on with Jamie- and the girls all think he's cute, which I know from notes I find scattered through the classroom, and I know he's dated at least one girl in the room this year, who is also pretty and popular and happens to be really smart. But I guess he understands there's a level of superficiality to all that, which he could get anywhere. Having a teacher that loves him and believes in him he might not be able to get somewhere else.
I had a long conversation about this with Ems. It's a problem a lot of TFA teachers have, that they want to be that teacher that makes a difference for every kid they see, and the reality that they are not it for every kid is really hard to deal with. I'm pretty comfortable with it. I didn't come in with that illusion. First of all, a lot of my kids don't need that role. For all the awful situations some of them come in with, a lot of them come in with really loving, supportive families or communities that fill that role in their lives. And for some of the rest of them, there's just a personality conflict, or lack of spark, or whatever. No one can be everything every child needs. I've got more than a few kids for whom I am just not what they need or are looking for right now. And that's fine- if there's someone else they relate to better, because they don't like women, or young people, or me, or whatever, I try to point them toward people they might relate to better. But every once in a while, there is a kid that there is just that bond with, where they need something really intensely and you have it to give. I had it last year with DJ, and with Bouncer, and C. This year, that kid in my class is Cyrus, and to a lesser extent Jamie, and definitely with some of the kids, mostly Maria and Anita from after school and a couple of other random kids. Not that I don't love all of my kids, or that they don't need something, but I don't think I'm necessarily that one teacher for all of them. For Cyrus, I am. And it's fairly obvious to most of the kids in my class, I think. It's not favoritism, and it doesn't seem to upset them in any way. Most of them wouldn't even open themselves up emotionally enough to have that kind of bond, so it's not something they really get jealous of. They don't need it, they don't want it. But they see it and recognize it. And it's really hard to let go of those kids, not knowing if they'll ever get this vague amorphous thing that they need ever again or if what I've given them has been enough. I'm going to be the most annoying parent ever, some day, I'm sure, because I'm afraid even of letting go of my students. Not that Cyrus helped with the comment today...
Another cheery day with the future of our country.
I got another resource student today. Haven't met her yet. I have to write something like 10 IEPs in the next two weeks. Fun! (And so of course, I procrastinate by writing here instead...)
I rarely get to meet with my resource kids consistently, though, as they all seem to be suspended so often that they're rarely in school more than a few days in a row. LJ has decided to come see me even when BJ's not there. Yesterday I went to go meet with an eighth grade girl that I hadn't actually gotten to talk to yet. LJ came with me (his teacher was hoping he'd cut, but he showed up while I was at her door, so she asked if I could take him instead so he didn't disrupt her class). Jabberwock is the girl's teacher, and told me she had warned him that when it got nice out she was going to stop coming to school. Academically, she's doing fine (it's amazing how many of these kids have no business in special ed...), except in one class where she doesn't seem to be getting along with the teacher, so we started talking about cutting class, and school, and why they do it. She and LJ knew each other already, so the conversation got pretty open pretty fast.
My resource kids don't seem to think of me like a teacher, exactly... they tell me stuff I know they wouldn't think of telling other teachers. I can't tell if it's because I'm young, or because I'm very honest with them, or what. But it gets to the level that I sometimes remind them that I'm obligated to report certain things. LJ, for example, has brought a bookbag to school twice in the last week. Now, LJ never brings a bookbag to school- the school supplies he evidently needs (like condoms) fit in his pocket. He's a smart kid- he knew more than BJ did on the tests I gave him, and BJ did pretty well- but he's pretty comfortable with his future as a high school drop-out, so why bother? So when he brought a bag to school, the logical assumption his teachers made was that he brought drugs or weapons to school. He made a joke about it to me (prompting a "I have to report certain things" talk) but then encouraged me to search it. My assumption, following that, is that he brought something in, unloaded it quickly, and knowing that the administration knows I have a relationship with him and would ask me about him, gave himself a cover by having me search it. He also started telling me about his gang, the initials of which he has tattoed on his arm. He and Alexa started giving me a rundown of the local gangs (among other things... hence Alexa's question, the title of this post). I'm still trying to learn details of the gang that tagged my car. I asked him about them, but he didn't seem to know much, or not much that he would admit. His gang, at least the kids I assume are in his gang, that come to visit me, know what my car looks like- they can't get over that I drove to BJ's house after school. Evidently home visits are out of fashion these days. In the back of my mind I think I felt nervous that they would check the car out and see another gang's symbol and make some kind of connection that would get me caught in some drama. But maybe it'll work out the opposite way; they all obviously like me, so maybe it'll be like I have some loose protection of two gangs, should I ever need it. Friends in low places, right? He had talked to me about the gang before, but I was too slow to put together the pieces. I didn't really make the connection, although I had suspicions, until another teacher asked me about another student we both have, a 7th grader, to see if he was in a gang, because another kid in her same class who got stabbed last week is, and she wanted to know if they were in the same one. Jellyroll, from my class, told me he was there when the stabbing happened but I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him about it. I can't imagine him in a gang, but then I've learned my lesson about never saying never about students- and he was, after all, the kid that brought the cap gun to school. I don't know why it's taken me so long to make all these connections, but it only suddenly hit me today how common gangs are in my school and how many of my kids are in them. It's a little disturbing, actually.
Speaking of disturbing... Jamie (formerly referred to as Dae), Huffy, Gecko, and two other kids (neither of whom have nicknames yet) got suspended for beating up Jellyroll in the bathroom. I'm so disgusted I can barely stand it. Only one actually did it, but the rest guarded the door so Jr couldn't get out. It makes me so angry... Now he has to leave the class, too, and of the group I think he's the only one who was truly sorry for his roll in beating up Squirrel. He was my new secret favorite, the one with a conscience, and he was a really good student on top of that. The fact that they were all his close friends at the beginning of the year just makes it worse. The kid who actually beat him up is just nuts. I don't really even blame him, because I think he just truly has no control over himself at all and really should be hospitalized, but the others...
I'm starting to feel like I've run out of emotion. I'd like to be really angry and upset, but mostly I'm just tired of it. I hugged Cyrus when I found out he wasn't a part of it. And it makes me sick that I'm thankful when one of my kids isn't participating in group beatings. I want to be hugging him for perfect test scores, or winning football games, or showing excellence in some way. And while I rationalize it by looking at how far he's come- to stay out of trouble, when it's all you've known and been in, all your life, and is all that is expected of you, and all your friends are doing it, during the most peer-motivated period of your life, is truly remarkable, and a sign to me of strength and growth and maturity- but it still makes me sick to think that there's a possibility he'll never be held to higher standards and expected to grow to his full potential.
I got a loose job offer, last week, for an electoral organizing job that in many ways is exactly what I want to do and an incredible opportunity. But I feel racked by guilt at the thought of leaving my kids, and my school, even though a few months ago I was ready to do it out of spite and anger and frustration and thought I made the decision for good. I told a couple of the kids there was a possibility I wouldn't be there next year, mostly Cyrus. Cyrus told me if I left he had no reason to come to school. It'll be an ongoing conversation, but I tried to explain to him that the best thing he could do for me was to show me that he could succeed without me, because I'm not always going to be there for him, even if I want to be, but that I will always love him and will know that he really is the person I know he can be if he is his best even when I'm not there. And that that, actually, is the test. I know he'll be his best when I'm there, because I'll make him, but if he'll do it for me even when I'm not there then I'll know he really truly has become his best, both for me and for him. It was a big knife in the heart; it's not that he doesn't have other reasons. He's popular and athletic- he's quarterback of the local football team, which he's on with Jamie- and the girls all think he's cute, which I know from notes I find scattered through the classroom, and I know he's dated at least one girl in the room this year, who is also pretty and popular and happens to be really smart. But I guess he understands there's a level of superficiality to all that, which he could get anywhere. Having a teacher that loves him and believes in him he might not be able to get somewhere else.
I had a long conversation about this with Ems. It's a problem a lot of TFA teachers have, that they want to be that teacher that makes a difference for every kid they see, and the reality that they are not it for every kid is really hard to deal with. I'm pretty comfortable with it. I didn't come in with that illusion. First of all, a lot of my kids don't need that role. For all the awful situations some of them come in with, a lot of them come in with really loving, supportive families or communities that fill that role in their lives. And for some of the rest of them, there's just a personality conflict, or lack of spark, or whatever. No one can be everything every child needs. I've got more than a few kids for whom I am just not what they need or are looking for right now. And that's fine- if there's someone else they relate to better, because they don't like women, or young people, or me, or whatever, I try to point them toward people they might relate to better. But every once in a while, there is a kid that there is just that bond with, where they need something really intensely and you have it to give. I had it last year with DJ, and with Bouncer, and C. This year, that kid in my class is Cyrus, and to a lesser extent Jamie, and definitely with some of the kids, mostly Maria and Anita from after school and a couple of other random kids. Not that I don't love all of my kids, or that they don't need something, but I don't think I'm necessarily that one teacher for all of them. For Cyrus, I am. And it's fairly obvious to most of the kids in my class, I think. It's not favoritism, and it doesn't seem to upset them in any way. Most of them wouldn't even open themselves up emotionally enough to have that kind of bond, so it's not something they really get jealous of. They don't need it, they don't want it. But they see it and recognize it. And it's really hard to let go of those kids, not knowing if they'll ever get this vague amorphous thing that they need ever again or if what I've given them has been enough. I'm going to be the most annoying parent ever, some day, I'm sure, because I'm afraid even of letting go of my students. Not that Cyrus helped with the comment today...
Another cheery day with the future of our country.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
some high(and low-)lights of this week (mostly from the 8th grade)
1. finding out that Big Jay is actually 13, not 14, while writing his IEP. Not that this should make a difference, but somehow, the fact that he's got such a long criminal record already, is having sex and selling drugs just seems significantly worse somehow now that I know he's 13. Also, he tested damn near on grade level in math without having been awake through a math class or through the entirety of one in about two years. which means... special ed, not so much.
2. going to BJ's house after he and LJ cut out of school because LJ got in trouble for printing out pictures of guns in order to get BJ to finish taking his frigging IEP tests and completely and utterly wasting an hour of my life there as he completely refused to do anything and got so upset I actually came over that he tried to take his bike out to ride away (luckily it had a flat tire). This was a problem as he's under house arrest. I was kind of afraid he'd get locked up again before school this week. Luckily not.
3. being grilled by BJ's and LJ's friends today on my love life. LJ decided I looked like the type who dated women and men, and wanted me to tell them if I swung both ways. They spent the next half hour trying to get me to tell them something about my love (or more accurately, sex) life. BJ stayed out of it, and even sort of had my back.
"Yo, man, she's just going to say no to anything you say. Stop asking her."
I like him more every day. Except when I was at his house and he was a huge pain in the ass. But it definitely had some kind of effect. He told all of his friends about it, repeatedly. LJ wanted to know why I didn't come to his house. I told him if I hadn't found BJ at his own house, I would've checked his next. I actually had his address when I went over, considering it, but I didn't add that in general I'm more comfortable with BJ because he gets mad when I make an effort to check up on him (although I think he does appreciate it in the end) rather than tries to flirt... LJ probably would've asked me to sleep over (echoes of R's brother from last year... "You can borrow my t-shirt!"). They were all shocked I was able to find out where they lived. I guess none of them knew the school has their info on the computer system. This conversation immediately followed BJ telling them about how I drove over to his house and then a conversation about my car, with jokes about how they steal cars. They wouldn't, actually-- they like me, and among other reasons, my car is older and more beat up then the ones they get other ways, and I'm sure they know they would be prime suspects if anything ever did happen to my car. But still... not the most reassuring conversation.
So as LJ kept trying for the personal information...
"Boys, I'm sorry, that's just too personal. I can't talk about that with you."
"Yes you can! You know us, we're sharing, we're a group here. We wouldn't tell anyone, you know us better than that!"
"No I don't! You were just joking about stealing my car!"
"Oh, yeah..." they started laughing. "Whoops. You know we wouldn't do that, Miss."
5. wasting a full period on possibly the stupidest sixth grade drama EVER between one of my girls and three girls in another class, one of whom is dating one of the boys in my class. Making it worse, BJ, LJ, and one of their friends (who decided to help me grade papers during my prep... random...) walked in while I was in the room I use for resource trying to mediate so there wasn't a full on fight after school tomorrow, which is what was about to happen, and decided to watch. It was like trying to mediate a Jerry Springer show with interactive audience members. My sixth grade girls, particularly these ones, are very young for their ages, but they have a lot of attitude. They don't curse in front of me, and these particular ones are very careful about being respectful, but they have mouths like no others... not helped by the commentary from the boys.
"So then Ms. A, in gym, she called me a B! And she said she was going to, you know, f me up!"
"What's a B?"
"What's 'f' stand for? Freedom? She's going to free you?"
"Yo, that sixth grader's got some Eddie Murphy hair!"
I've had more productive conversations.
4. BJ and LJ's friend (not the one who helped me grade, a different one- in all today I had BJ, LJ, two of their friends whose names rhyme, and this last one wandering into my room to hang out. It's kind of a weird situation. They're probably cutting, but they're at least with a teacher when they're with me and occasionally doing something school related or at least having life lesson conversations when I can get their minds off sex or drugs. And they're not in the hallway or selling drugs in the bathroom. I like them, I don't mind, although it's kind of a pain when I'm trying to work with other students) in response to my refusing to answer questions. When they discovered I would just say no to everything, it became a game. You just can't win sometimes...
"Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Do you like men? Are you straight?"
You get the idea. The clincher:
"Do you like younger men? If I were older, I'd bang you."
I actually slipped up and cursed. "I don't ever want to hear that s*** coming out of your mouth again."
He feigned shock. I told Ms. Lez about it later, who's very close to that whole group of boys, and she had him come up later and apologize. He was obviously actually really embarrassed about it. That's way further than even LJ would take it. And he's actually a cousin to a girl in L's class that the other boys were pretty crudely talking about taking advantage of, and got upset about it. That made me forgive him and even like him a little more. Still think I've had my share of eighth grade for the week...
2. going to BJ's house after he and LJ cut out of school because LJ got in trouble for printing out pictures of guns in order to get BJ to finish taking his frigging IEP tests and completely and utterly wasting an hour of my life there as he completely refused to do anything and got so upset I actually came over that he tried to take his bike out to ride away (luckily it had a flat tire). This was a problem as he's under house arrest. I was kind of afraid he'd get locked up again before school this week. Luckily not.
3. being grilled by BJ's and LJ's friends today on my love life. LJ decided I looked like the type who dated women and men, and wanted me to tell them if I swung both ways. They spent the next half hour trying to get me to tell them something about my love (or more accurately, sex) life. BJ stayed out of it, and even sort of had my back.
"Yo, man, she's just going to say no to anything you say. Stop asking her."
I like him more every day. Except when I was at his house and he was a huge pain in the ass. But it definitely had some kind of effect. He told all of his friends about it, repeatedly. LJ wanted to know why I didn't come to his house. I told him if I hadn't found BJ at his own house, I would've checked his next. I actually had his address when I went over, considering it, but I didn't add that in general I'm more comfortable with BJ because he gets mad when I make an effort to check up on him (although I think he does appreciate it in the end) rather than tries to flirt... LJ probably would've asked me to sleep over (echoes of R's brother from last year... "You can borrow my t-shirt!"). They were all shocked I was able to find out where they lived. I guess none of them knew the school has their info on the computer system. This conversation immediately followed BJ telling them about how I drove over to his house and then a conversation about my car, with jokes about how they steal cars. They wouldn't, actually-- they like me, and among other reasons, my car is older and more beat up then the ones they get other ways, and I'm sure they know they would be prime suspects if anything ever did happen to my car. But still... not the most reassuring conversation.
So as LJ kept trying for the personal information...
"Boys, I'm sorry, that's just too personal. I can't talk about that with you."
"Yes you can! You know us, we're sharing, we're a group here. We wouldn't tell anyone, you know us better than that!"
"No I don't! You were just joking about stealing my car!"
"Oh, yeah..." they started laughing. "Whoops. You know we wouldn't do that, Miss."
5. wasting a full period on possibly the stupidest sixth grade drama EVER between one of my girls and three girls in another class, one of whom is dating one of the boys in my class. Making it worse, BJ, LJ, and one of their friends (who decided to help me grade papers during my prep... random...) walked in while I was in the room I use for resource trying to mediate so there wasn't a full on fight after school tomorrow, which is what was about to happen, and decided to watch. It was like trying to mediate a Jerry Springer show with interactive audience members. My sixth grade girls, particularly these ones, are very young for their ages, but they have a lot of attitude. They don't curse in front of me, and these particular ones are very careful about being respectful, but they have mouths like no others... not helped by the commentary from the boys.
"So then Ms. A, in gym, she called me a B! And she said she was going to, you know, f me up!"
"What's a B?"
"What's 'f' stand for? Freedom? She's going to free you?"
"Yo, that sixth grader's got some Eddie Murphy hair!"
I've had more productive conversations.
4. BJ and LJ's friend (not the one who helped me grade, a different one- in all today I had BJ, LJ, two of their friends whose names rhyme, and this last one wandering into my room to hang out. It's kind of a weird situation. They're probably cutting, but they're at least with a teacher when they're with me and occasionally doing something school related or at least having life lesson conversations when I can get their minds off sex or drugs. And they're not in the hallway or selling drugs in the bathroom. I like them, I don't mind, although it's kind of a pain when I'm trying to work with other students) in response to my refusing to answer questions. When they discovered I would just say no to everything, it became a game. You just can't win sometimes...
"Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Do you like men? Are you straight?"
You get the idea. The clincher:
"Do you like younger men? If I were older, I'd bang you."
I actually slipped up and cursed. "I don't ever want to hear that s*** coming out of your mouth again."
He feigned shock. I told Ms. Lez about it later, who's very close to that whole group of boys, and she had him come up later and apologize. He was obviously actually really embarrassed about it. That's way further than even LJ would take it. And he's actually a cousin to a girl in L's class that the other boys were pretty crudely talking about taking advantage of, and got upset about it. That made me forgive him and even like him a little more. Still think I've had my share of eighth grade for the week...
Thursday, April 19, 2007
my gunshot wound is itchy
Whoopi showed me her gunshot wound yesterday. She needed to go to the nurse to replace the bandages on her back; she said it was itchy. It's a miracle she's alive; one of the bullets went in by her lung and luckily bounced off her rib and ended in her arm, where it still is. She was at her cousin's birthday party during a drive by. I couldn't stop hugging her. She got either embarassed or annoyed ("Ms. A!"), but I think she understands. She's probably gotten enough of it from her family lately.
BJ was here today. LJ made me promise yesterday I would take him to resource with me, so I told him if he brought BJ so I could do his IEP testing he could come too. Talk about awkward. On the way out of class, LJ started telling me how BJ was absent yesterday because he was arrested for stealing a motorcycle.
"I didn't know it was stolen! I just bought this four wheeler off this guy for like, four hundred bucks. I didn't know it was stolen until the cops were like, 'Got licencse and registration?'"
He had to leave early to go to court over it.
An hour with those two was enough to make me want to sample their various products... For whatever reason they decided to trust me enough to tell me about all their various exploits today, including their drug dealing. I tried to talk to them about it, but it's sort of a losing battle. Go to college, like me, so you can take a paycut! Really, it's worth your while... you won't get the cars, or the girls, or the new clothes, or the wads of cash... actually, it's a paycut... but, um, it's worth it, because...
The threat of prison is far enough off that it's not real enough; they're still kids, consequences like that are just not real to them. And I know some people reading this might think that the answer is to treat them like adults and charge them that way, but really, they're just kids, and that wouldn't help the problem, particularly in the overall community. That's the hard part. The threat of being inadvertently made gay while in prison might help. I didn't want to bring that up quite so blatantly, but it's coming. Probably tomorrow. They're about to kick BJ out of the school- that's as close as the consequences are real, so far. He really doesn't want to go. He tried to convince me today that he would be good and that I should try to convince everyone else to let him stay. I'm actually getting almost attachd to him, starting to like him in spite of myself. I don't really want him to get kicked out. And he's good, for me, anyway...
I had to give BJ a math diagnostic. LJ wanted to help. I was waiting for my vice principal to walk in in the middle...
"BJ, what's five times eight?"
"I don't know, man. I'm retarded in math. I don't go to math class. I didn't go last year. I liked Ms. Champion, in sixth grade... I don't even know who my math teacher is... oh yeah, Ms. M... "
LJ looked exhasperated.
"Come on, man. You sell eight nics, how much money do you get?"
A light bulb went on. BJ brightened.
"Forty!"
Math instruction through drug dealing. Hey, differentiated instruction, right? Meeting kids where they're at? I know more than I want to know, now. They told me about the various stuff they've gotten locked up for, showed me their wads of cash, tried to bribe me to fill in the test for them... At one point, LJ asked BJ if he had coke on him.
"Please tell me you didn't bring coke to school... If you did, I don't want to know, please don't bring it to my class. I don't want to know. Just please don't be so stupid as to bring it to school!"
BJ looked insulted. "No, I didn't bring coke to school! I don't deal with that shit. Oops, sorry miss, I mean stuff. Just weed. But coke, no!" He started emptying his pockets to prove it to me. Keys, money (a lot), wallet, condoms. I doubt the kid's touched a pencil this whole year, but he has condoms. *Sigh*. At least they're using protection... And hey, no drugs.
It got even better when LJ decided to start really hitting on me. He's gotten pretty flirty before. Calling me sweetie was just the beginning. Yesterday when I went to look for BJ, he reached up for a big hug (in class, although there wasn't exactly a great deal of instruction going on).
"How are you, Miss? You look wonderful. Amaaazing. Did you lose a few pounds? You look absolutely beautiful. Your eyes are dazzling. Can I come with you? You're so beautiful."
The thing is with LJ that he's a really charismatic, endearing, articulate kind of kid, with just that extra tinge of goof. So no matter how inappropriate he gets (and he does) it's hard to be mad at him. BJ doesn't have that kind of charisma, so he keeps it a little more under wraps. He still apologizes when he curses in front of me, and the most personal he's gotten is to ask if I'm married. LJ, on the other hand...
While I was testing them, LJ looked through one of my filing cabinets for the computer mouse. I told him to get out the candy I kept hidden in there. He pulled out some twizzlers and tootsie rolls.
"Want some?" he asked BJ.
"Nah, I don't eat candy unless it's bangin'. I only eat really good candy. I don't really eat much candy."
"I know what BJ eats..." LJ singsonged. I cringed.
"Don't..." I started, knowing what was coming.
"He eats girls out!" LJ sang. "You just don't eat candy cause you don't know what to do with it, like with girls. You gotta use it..."
He asked what I would do if a student, being younger than me, asked me out or flirted with me.
"Would you have them locked up?"
"Well, what do you mean by flirting? If they tried to do anything, yes, I would have them locked up. That's harassment or assault, and absolutely, I would have them arrested and locked up. If they just said something flirty or asked me out on a date, I'd just think they were being silly," I fudged. Can't say I was really prepared for the question.
"But you wouldn't have them locked up for asking you out."
"For flirting? That's just stupid. They would know that, too..."
"But you wouldn't have them locked up..." He looked me up and down. "Ha-ay..."
So yeah, weird. Then, an abrupt return to the candy topic...
"So BJ, you gotta do like this. Or Miss, with your boyfriend, this is what you gotta do," with a twizzler, licking it all the way up and down and sucking it suggestively, "tell your boyfriend to do like this, and then you do it..."
I gave up on testing soon after that.
BJ was here today. LJ made me promise yesterday I would take him to resource with me, so I told him if he brought BJ so I could do his IEP testing he could come too. Talk about awkward. On the way out of class, LJ started telling me how BJ was absent yesterday because he was arrested for stealing a motorcycle.
"I didn't know it was stolen! I just bought this four wheeler off this guy for like, four hundred bucks. I didn't know it was stolen until the cops were like, 'Got licencse and registration?'"
He had to leave early to go to court over it.
An hour with those two was enough to make me want to sample their various products... For whatever reason they decided to trust me enough to tell me about all their various exploits today, including their drug dealing. I tried to talk to them about it, but it's sort of a losing battle. Go to college, like me, so you can take a paycut! Really, it's worth your while... you won't get the cars, or the girls, or the new clothes, or the wads of cash... actually, it's a paycut... but, um, it's worth it, because...
The threat of prison is far enough off that it's not real enough; they're still kids, consequences like that are just not real to them. And I know some people reading this might think that the answer is to treat them like adults and charge them that way, but really, they're just kids, and that wouldn't help the problem, particularly in the overall community. That's the hard part. The threat of being inadvertently made gay while in prison might help. I didn't want to bring that up quite so blatantly, but it's coming. Probably tomorrow. They're about to kick BJ out of the school- that's as close as the consequences are real, so far. He really doesn't want to go. He tried to convince me today that he would be good and that I should try to convince everyone else to let him stay. I'm actually getting almost attachd to him, starting to like him in spite of myself. I don't really want him to get kicked out. And he's good, for me, anyway...
I had to give BJ a math diagnostic. LJ wanted to help. I was waiting for my vice principal to walk in in the middle...
"BJ, what's five times eight?"
"I don't know, man. I'm retarded in math. I don't go to math class. I didn't go last year. I liked Ms. Champion, in sixth grade... I don't even know who my math teacher is... oh yeah, Ms. M... "
LJ looked exhasperated.
"Come on, man. You sell eight nics, how much money do you get?"
A light bulb went on. BJ brightened.
"Forty!"
Math instruction through drug dealing. Hey, differentiated instruction, right? Meeting kids where they're at? I know more than I want to know, now. They told me about the various stuff they've gotten locked up for, showed me their wads of cash, tried to bribe me to fill in the test for them... At one point, LJ asked BJ if he had coke on him.
"Please tell me you didn't bring coke to school... If you did, I don't want to know, please don't bring it to my class. I don't want to know. Just please don't be so stupid as to bring it to school!"
BJ looked insulted. "No, I didn't bring coke to school! I don't deal with that shit. Oops, sorry miss, I mean stuff. Just weed. But coke, no!" He started emptying his pockets to prove it to me. Keys, money (a lot), wallet, condoms. I doubt the kid's touched a pencil this whole year, but he has condoms. *Sigh*. At least they're using protection... And hey, no drugs.
It got even better when LJ decided to start really hitting on me. He's gotten pretty flirty before. Calling me sweetie was just the beginning. Yesterday when I went to look for BJ, he reached up for a big hug (in class, although there wasn't exactly a great deal of instruction going on).
"How are you, Miss? You look wonderful. Amaaazing. Did you lose a few pounds? You look absolutely beautiful. Your eyes are dazzling. Can I come with you? You're so beautiful."
The thing is with LJ that he's a really charismatic, endearing, articulate kind of kid, with just that extra tinge of goof. So no matter how inappropriate he gets (and he does) it's hard to be mad at him. BJ doesn't have that kind of charisma, so he keeps it a little more under wraps. He still apologizes when he curses in front of me, and the most personal he's gotten is to ask if I'm married. LJ, on the other hand...
While I was testing them, LJ looked through one of my filing cabinets for the computer mouse. I told him to get out the candy I kept hidden in there. He pulled out some twizzlers and tootsie rolls.
"Want some?" he asked BJ.
"Nah, I don't eat candy unless it's bangin'. I only eat really good candy. I don't really eat much candy."
"I know what BJ eats..." LJ singsonged. I cringed.
"Don't..." I started, knowing what was coming.
"He eats girls out!" LJ sang. "You just don't eat candy cause you don't know what to do with it, like with girls. You gotta use it..."
He asked what I would do if a student, being younger than me, asked me out or flirted with me.
"Would you have them locked up?"
"Well, what do you mean by flirting? If they tried to do anything, yes, I would have them locked up. That's harassment or assault, and absolutely, I would have them arrested and locked up. If they just said something flirty or asked me out on a date, I'd just think they were being silly," I fudged. Can't say I was really prepared for the question.
"But you wouldn't have them locked up for asking you out."
"For flirting? That's just stupid. They would know that, too..."
"But you wouldn't have them locked up..." He looked me up and down. "Ha-ay..."
So yeah, weird. Then, an abrupt return to the candy topic...
"So BJ, you gotta do like this. Or Miss, with your boyfriend, this is what you gotta do," with a twizzler, licking it all the way up and down and sucking it suggestively, "tell your boyfriend to do like this, and then you do it..."
I gave up on testing soon after that.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
MASH
Well, not exactly. But remember in middle school, those games where you had to categorize your classmates and future lives? Who was cute, who was hot, who you'd marry, where you would live... There's an infinite number of those games, MASH is just the only one I remember.
I confiscated a note a couple days ago from Chatterbox, my new girl who was my trade for Squirrel. She's not a bad kid, just kind of frustrating. She looked terrified for a minute and tried to pass it off to Cyrus. I told her I would have no problem writing her up for giving it to him and not me after I explicitly told her to give it to me.
"Okay! Okay!" she yanked it back out of Cyrus's hands.
I stuck it in my pocket without looking at it. While torturing kids by reading the notes in class is fun, it also leads to a lot more disruption and occasionally humiliation, so I rarely do. I just put them away and throw them out later, or in rare cases, if they're really good kids who are writing notes after they're done their work or something, will give it back at the end of class, sometimes without even looking at it (I usually only do that with Jazz and Kira, who both have near 100 averages, but I told them they were only allowed to write notes if they used proper grammar and spelling and used words other than "play"). This one I just totally forgot about. I don't even remember when I took it from her. I pulled it out of my pocket today. On one side is the list of categories:
girlfriend
marry
sexy
Dog
hommie
cute
chill
On the other side is the Girl list and the Boy list. I'm number 8 on the Girl list- and, I might add, the only adult on the list. Unfortunately, they hadn't actually gone through and categorized anybody yet, so I don't know whether I'm "hommie" or just "chill".
I confiscated a note a couple days ago from Chatterbox, my new girl who was my trade for Squirrel. She's not a bad kid, just kind of frustrating. She looked terrified for a minute and tried to pass it off to Cyrus. I told her I would have no problem writing her up for giving it to him and not me after I explicitly told her to give it to me.
"Okay! Okay!" she yanked it back out of Cyrus's hands.
I stuck it in my pocket without looking at it. While torturing kids by reading the notes in class is fun, it also leads to a lot more disruption and occasionally humiliation, so I rarely do. I just put them away and throw them out later, or in rare cases, if they're really good kids who are writing notes after they're done their work or something, will give it back at the end of class, sometimes without even looking at it (I usually only do that with Jazz and Kira, who both have near 100 averages, but I told them they were only allowed to write notes if they used proper grammar and spelling and used words other than "play"). This one I just totally forgot about. I don't even remember when I took it from her. I pulled it out of my pocket today. On one side is the list of categories:
girlfriend
marry
sexy
Dog
hommie
cute
chill
On the other side is the Girl list and the Boy list. I'm number 8 on the Girl list- and, I might add, the only adult on the list. Unfortunately, they hadn't actually gone through and categorized anybody yet, so I don't know whether I'm "hommie" or just "chill".
Saturday, April 14, 2007
i got it covered
Went to the third floor (8th grade) to check for one of my students yesterday. Two girls stopped me- one is one of my resource girls, who I like a lot but feel for because she doesn't really fit into the school at all, and her best friend that she cuts with all the time that I am growing to loathe. My student was holding back her friend, who was about to fly into a rage because some girl in her class threw a water bottle at her while she was helping clean the room. It was one of the first times I've had to navigate a racial issue between students at the school. Both girls (my resource girl and her friend) are white, the girl who threw the bottle was black. The school has an interesting race dynamic, in general. It's really diverse, as city public schools go. I have no idea what the actual demographics break down to, but if I had to estimate based on the classes I've seen on a regular basis, I'd say it breaks down to something like 50% black, 30% latino, and 20% white, with a micropercentage of "other"-- there's at least a few asian kids, for example. In that breakdown there's a lot of overlap and mixing- Trish, for example, is white, but her nephew in the 8th grade is black, and they have been raised as brother and sister (fortunately for their overall quality of life, but unfortunately for me, they just moved into a house from a homeless shelter and so transferred schools. Luckily Trish has a fellow TFAer who is a good friend of mine at her new school, so I know someone's looking out for her). Lucky is very vocal about her puerto rican heritage but looks like a carbon copy of her african american father. I don't know how she's counted in whatever school census data there is.
Anyway, I mentally organize the white kids into one of three categories, or at least think of them as falling somewhere along a spectrum between these. There's the white racists, who are following in long intergenerational footsteps of families and a community that are racist, have white supremacist groups, and at some point etched a swastika on my blackboard. Then there's the white kids who culturally are not white at all. This year we're doing a school play of West Side Story. The cast, rather than being white and puerto rican, is black and of mixed latino heritage (mostly puerto rican with some dominican thrown in). There is one white child in the entire play, and he plays Riff, the leader of the Jets, otherwise all black. He's a good example of the type who assimilates; I've never actually seen him hanging out with another white student. His aunt, who was an aide in my classroom last year, is black; I wonder if a lot of the cultural assimilation of those kids (like Trish and Riff) has to do with being raised in poly-racial/ethnic/cultural homes. The third type is somewhere between, and those are the kids I feel for; they're not racist and so aren't accepted into the white supremacist cliques, aren't culturally integrated enough to fit in with the black or latino kids, although they may have friends from those groups, and there aren't enough of them, per class, to form their own cliques. Squirrel was one of those kids. He was transferred to another classroom when Gecko, Jamie, Pockets, Huffy, and Jellyroll (his nickname from his friends, I'm trying to think of a better one cause that one's pretty bad) jumped him and stole his stuff. All of the kids who jumped him were black but Jellyroll, who has a latino last name but whose mom is white, but I don't think it was a racial thing at all; none of them really even disliked Squirrel. I think he was simply an easy target for the side of young boys that wants to cause trouble, which is a pretty universal trait. Now that Trish is gone, Squirrel is gone, and my two potentially psychotic kids both passed through my classroom and were hospitalized, there is only one white kid in the room, Tory, who also falls in the middle category (not counting Jellyroll, I'm not actually sure what his background is). Tory luckily seems to have bonded with a couple of the other kids pretty strongly despite pretty different backgrounds (oddly enough she seems to be closest to Lucky, who otherwise seems to think that every white person is racist and, for example, once accused L of racism for temporarily confiscating a toy that was causing a fight in the middle of class).
The other thing I've noticed about the white kids is something apparent mostly in the special ed kids. The black and latino kids often have serious issues, are violent, oppositional, defiant, etc. Most of them, though, seem to be at least workable, or have problems that are understandable or are capable of managing them with time and effort and care. Cyrus is a good example, as is DJ from last year, or Bouncer. All, the year before I had them, had records that looked kind of terrifying on paper. Assaulting teachers (I still can't imagine DJ biting his teacher...), daily fights, oppositional to authority figures, etc. But then looking at their files, it makes sense. Torture, abandonment, molestation, transient living situations and homelessness, etc. Their behavior is mostly symptomatic of defenses they've built for mind-numbing experiences. But all three are still resilient enough to bounce back, and have (except for Bouncer, who's at a disciplinary school, but I think she would have given enough resources). While Cyrus is a pain in the butt sometimes, he's still mostly a happy, loving, good child.
When my mom went to begin teaching in an inner-city high school a few years ago with serious violence problems, another teacher told her to think of building relationships with her kids as a priority for safety.
"If someone walks into your classroom with a gun, you want to know that there is a kid in the room who would jump in front of the shooter and take a bullet for you."
My mom thought it was overly intense at the time, as did I, but it's a thought that has stuck in the back of my mind (especially recently as I actually now have kids that I think probably do carry guns with them). In my classroom this year, there's a couple of kids that I think might do that for me, but Cyrus is the kid that I know would. Whatever his problems, they haven't completely destroyed who he is, internally, and I think he's actually got a lot of nobility in his heart. He would have made a good knight.
The white kids in special ed, however, are a totally different ball game. Case in point Super-soaker, who was hospitalized early this year, after such stunts as covering people with gasoline and trying to light them on fire or kicking his five year old brother's teeth out. Then there's the kid who was in my classroom for a week due to legal issues and was also hospitalized (I think, he's not at my school anymore at any rate) after assaulting both his teachers before me and who was on something like four heavy duty anti-psychotic drugs. These are kids who are just totally past any resources available to them to help. Love and care from a teacher, which so far seems to be what kids like Cyrus most need, just does not cut it. Nor, evidently, does anti-psychotic medicine or round-the-clock behavioral specialists. I don't know what causes the difference in severity between the groups, and certainly this isn't true of everyone. Just an observation based on the kids I've worked with and know from around the school.
Anyway, while I was trying to deal with the two girls (really only one, the other one who's actually my student was trying to calm the other one down), I ran into Mr. Fart, the "art" teacher who farts on students as a classroom management technique. Because he doesn't actually make anyone do anything, he's fairly tight with a lot of the delinquent end of the eighth grade, and hears a lot of fun/horrific stories. This one, of the several he told me yesterday, was the best (and also involves a small bit of graphic language, while only a minute fraction of what I listened to the girls saying in the water bottle incident). LJ evidently came in with a big black eye, so Mr. Fart asked him about it.
"LJ, what happened to your eye?"
"I got rolled on."
"Well, why'd you get rolled on?"
LJ shrugged.
"I don't know."
"Well, who punched you?"
Another shrug.
"I don't know."
"LJ, a black eye is kind of a personal thing. Generally speaking, you know why you get one, and who the person is who gave it to you."
LJ looked around.
"Between you and me?"
"Yeah, between you and me."
"Well, I was fuckin this girl yesterday at her house, and her brother and his friends walked in on us. So they rolled on me."
Fart mulled it over.
"Well, LJ, I don't want to tell you how to live your life or anything, but uh, I wouldn't really want to be a pop at your age."
LJ shook his head in agreement.
"Naw, man, I got it covered!" he reassured him, and pulled out a long strip of condoms from his back pocket. The next line in school supplies...
Anyway, I mentally organize the white kids into one of three categories, or at least think of them as falling somewhere along a spectrum between these. There's the white racists, who are following in long intergenerational footsteps of families and a community that are racist, have white supremacist groups, and at some point etched a swastika on my blackboard. Then there's the white kids who culturally are not white at all. This year we're doing a school play of West Side Story. The cast, rather than being white and puerto rican, is black and of mixed latino heritage (mostly puerto rican with some dominican thrown in). There is one white child in the entire play, and he plays Riff, the leader of the Jets, otherwise all black. He's a good example of the type who assimilates; I've never actually seen him hanging out with another white student. His aunt, who was an aide in my classroom last year, is black; I wonder if a lot of the cultural assimilation of those kids (like Trish and Riff) has to do with being raised in poly-racial/ethnic/cultural homes. The third type is somewhere between, and those are the kids I feel for; they're not racist and so aren't accepted into the white supremacist cliques, aren't culturally integrated enough to fit in with the black or latino kids, although they may have friends from those groups, and there aren't enough of them, per class, to form their own cliques. Squirrel was one of those kids. He was transferred to another classroom when Gecko, Jamie, Pockets, Huffy, and Jellyroll (his nickname from his friends, I'm trying to think of a better one cause that one's pretty bad) jumped him and stole his stuff. All of the kids who jumped him were black but Jellyroll, who has a latino last name but whose mom is white, but I don't think it was a racial thing at all; none of them really even disliked Squirrel. I think he was simply an easy target for the side of young boys that wants to cause trouble, which is a pretty universal trait. Now that Trish is gone, Squirrel is gone, and my two potentially psychotic kids both passed through my classroom and were hospitalized, there is only one white kid in the room, Tory, who also falls in the middle category (not counting Jellyroll, I'm not actually sure what his background is). Tory luckily seems to have bonded with a couple of the other kids pretty strongly despite pretty different backgrounds (oddly enough she seems to be closest to Lucky, who otherwise seems to think that every white person is racist and, for example, once accused L of racism for temporarily confiscating a toy that was causing a fight in the middle of class).
The other thing I've noticed about the white kids is something apparent mostly in the special ed kids. The black and latino kids often have serious issues, are violent, oppositional, defiant, etc. Most of them, though, seem to be at least workable, or have problems that are understandable or are capable of managing them with time and effort and care. Cyrus is a good example, as is DJ from last year, or Bouncer. All, the year before I had them, had records that looked kind of terrifying on paper. Assaulting teachers (I still can't imagine DJ biting his teacher...), daily fights, oppositional to authority figures, etc. But then looking at their files, it makes sense. Torture, abandonment, molestation, transient living situations and homelessness, etc. Their behavior is mostly symptomatic of defenses they've built for mind-numbing experiences. But all three are still resilient enough to bounce back, and have (except for Bouncer, who's at a disciplinary school, but I think she would have given enough resources). While Cyrus is a pain in the butt sometimes, he's still mostly a happy, loving, good child.
When my mom went to begin teaching in an inner-city high school a few years ago with serious violence problems, another teacher told her to think of building relationships with her kids as a priority for safety.
"If someone walks into your classroom with a gun, you want to know that there is a kid in the room who would jump in front of the shooter and take a bullet for you."
My mom thought it was overly intense at the time, as did I, but it's a thought that has stuck in the back of my mind (especially recently as I actually now have kids that I think probably do carry guns with them). In my classroom this year, there's a couple of kids that I think might do that for me, but Cyrus is the kid that I know would. Whatever his problems, they haven't completely destroyed who he is, internally, and I think he's actually got a lot of nobility in his heart. He would have made a good knight.
The white kids in special ed, however, are a totally different ball game. Case in point Super-soaker, who was hospitalized early this year, after such stunts as covering people with gasoline and trying to light them on fire or kicking his five year old brother's teeth out. Then there's the kid who was in my classroom for a week due to legal issues and was also hospitalized (I think, he's not at my school anymore at any rate) after assaulting both his teachers before me and who was on something like four heavy duty anti-psychotic drugs. These are kids who are just totally past any resources available to them to help. Love and care from a teacher, which so far seems to be what kids like Cyrus most need, just does not cut it. Nor, evidently, does anti-psychotic medicine or round-the-clock behavioral specialists. I don't know what causes the difference in severity between the groups, and certainly this isn't true of everyone. Just an observation based on the kids I've worked with and know from around the school.
Anyway, while I was trying to deal with the two girls (really only one, the other one who's actually my student was trying to calm the other one down), I ran into Mr. Fart, the "art" teacher who farts on students as a classroom management technique. Because he doesn't actually make anyone do anything, he's fairly tight with a lot of the delinquent end of the eighth grade, and hears a lot of fun/horrific stories. This one, of the several he told me yesterday, was the best (and also involves a small bit of graphic language, while only a minute fraction of what I listened to the girls saying in the water bottle incident). LJ evidently came in with a big black eye, so Mr. Fart asked him about it.
"LJ, what happened to your eye?"
"I got rolled on."
"Well, why'd you get rolled on?"
LJ shrugged.
"I don't know."
"Well, who punched you?"
Another shrug.
"I don't know."
"LJ, a black eye is kind of a personal thing. Generally speaking, you know why you get one, and who the person is who gave it to you."
LJ looked around.
"Between you and me?"
"Yeah, between you and me."
"Well, I was fuckin this girl yesterday at her house, and her brother and his friends walked in on us. So they rolled on me."
Fart mulled it over.
"Well, LJ, I don't want to tell you how to live your life or anything, but uh, I wouldn't really want to be a pop at your age."
LJ shook his head in agreement.
"Naw, man, I got it covered!" he reassured him, and pulled out a long strip of condoms from his back pocket. The next line in school supplies...
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