The controlling idea is failure

I’ve stared down a class full of students not knowing what I would teach them once the tardy bell rang. I’ve allowed a small pocket of jerks to set the mood for my entire class. I’m even guilty of what I believe to be a cardinal sin in the teaching world: busy work. But none of these mistakes make me feel like a failure as much as grading a stack of papers can.

Essays are a culmination of so much learning, it’s foolish to expect all students to nail it all down perfectly. Some kids didn’t pay attention to the story we read for four weeks. Some guy wasn’t paying attention when we went over what a thesis is. A few of them fell through the cracks of middle school and have no business taking on 9th grade-level work. However, I’ve got plenty burden-wise to accept.

As I grade papers here at Mrs. Winner’s, drinking their delicious tea-flavored sugar and listening to their surprisingly good music (I expect to hear Hall & Oates but Spoon? Don’t mind if I do), I’m realizing all of my own missteps. These kids are, for the most part, trying their best with the information they’re given. Just because I told them to make sure their paragraphs have main ideas doesn’t mean they know how. Many of then asked me how to write a conclusion, and I really didn’t have a good answer for them. Lo and behold, their conclusions all suck. If I come across a decent one, it’ll be to the credit of a previous teacher or the kids innate writing abilities.

Anybody else starting to notice the pattern of posts lately? Kids suck; I suck; repeat.

Gradin Papurs

For the none of you concerned, I think I fixed this place so’s your comments will show up immediately without needing my approval.  Sorry, that was a default WordPress deal, and I could never find the settings page until today (Web 2.0!).

I just got done grading a batch of essays.  I had them explain the hero’s journey with a movie of their choice.  Overall, I was pleased with what I saw.  My students actually did some analysis, and I think they looked at movies they knew well in a new, very literary way.  It’s fun to watch a student squirm his way through the archetypes of Back to the Future.

BUT, my heart sank a little at the sight of their grammar.  You know the feeling when you’ve got to clean up your room, but it’s so messy, there’s no real way to start improving it?  It’s exactly like that.  A few students grasp the basics and only mar up their essays when they stretch their grammar muscles beyond simple sentences.  Others, however, can’t seem to write a single line of words without seriously ruining what seemed to resemble a decent thought underneath a pile of unnecessary prepositions to that which of the idea is that they were not in a way very good writers to themselves.

Others just don’t seem to try–at all.  I hand back their papers.  They peek at their low grade and admit that, yes, they didn’t really try too hard on this one.  Well, thanks a lot, dumb dumb.  I stayed up late last night capitalizing your han solos and death stars and adding periods amid your one page-long sentences because I thought you might have sincerely needed to know this stuff.  Now you tell me you didn’t really try?  Forget, just for now, about the consequences your laziness has on your education.  Think about me: the guy who has to sit down and actually read the pile you threw together in twenty minutes the night before class.  I have to give this half-assery a fair chance at the grade it deserves.

How about we pretend you phoned in a worthless paper, and I pretend to seriously assess your abilities?  You get the 50 you’d deserve anyway, and I get an extra 20 minutes of my life back.

Have I mentioned lately that I love my job?  I really, really do.

Decorating!

My classroom trailer is a pit.  Neighboring Douglas county donated the thing to my school this year when we needed 48 trailers to use until construction of our new building is complete.  The light switches and outlets have no coverings; wires stick out of the wall; the two sliding windows came with one piece of wood to serve as a lock.  And when it rains, the odor that lingers around for the rest of the week could be marketed as “Gym Short Breeze.”

That said, I’ll admit one of my weak areas as a teacher (and there are many) is setting up my classroom.  I lack the spatial intelligence and the woman’s touch to put together a pleasurable learning environment.  Imagine what a twenty-something guy’s apartment might look like if he had no one to really hold him accountable for how the place looked.  Add 27 desks and some stinky teenagers, and you’ve pretty much got my classroom.  I’ve got a pile of unfiled paperwork accumulating on the floor.  Posters are only hung to strategically cover gaping holes in the wall.  I wanted my trailer to look nice; I just didn’t know what to do.

Enter: Kate.  Last night, Kate came to the football game to watch her alma mater play our mighty Raiders.  At half-time, we moseyed over to my trailer to show her where I worked all day.  She was saddened by my room’s sorry state, her exact words being “I don’t think I could learn in here.”

But Kate would rather light a candle than curse my darkness, so we got to work.  We rearranged the desks into groups of six, freeing up plenty of space and also ensuring every student has a decent view of the board.  We moved books that were gathering behind my desk over to an empty bookshelf.  Kate stapled my students’ summer reading projects on the wall.

My room isn’t perfect yet.  Kate’s offered to make some curtains for my ugly windows.  I’ve still got an extra dry-erase board that needs to find its way up on the wall.  The switches and outlets still need plates.  I’m talking to a dude on Craigslist about a $20 table I could really use.  A vacuuming wouldn’t hurt, either.  But we’ve made drastic improvements, and when my students come back Monday, they just might be a little happier to be there.

[Pictures might show up soon--if you're lucky]

RE: My Lil Wayne Problem

Ethan was cool enough to comment on a previous post about Lil Wayne. I was going to just comment back, but then it got long and post-worthy.

Ethan, thanks for cutting me at least a little slack. True, I don’t listen to much rap (it’s 3% of my iTunes library–I did the math). While attempts to branch out have been sincere and fruitful, I wouldn’t blame you for mocking my listening to Jay Z and Wu-Tang through Pandora.com.

But, I’m not “retarded.” Come one, Ethan! I used the word “acuity”–correctly, even. I can also tie my shoes and do simple math problems in my head.

That said, I stand by my original argument that Lil Wayne presents a problem for teachers like me facing an already difficult task of getting 14 year-olds to recognize the importance of writing correctly.

Imagine Michael Jordan, at the peak of his fame. Now imagine MJ screaming “6 x 3 = 14″ every time he makes a basket. Think of how devastated our nation’s math teachers would feel, knowing that thousands of students are watching a role model treat their revered subject with such lazy ignorance. That’s how Lil Wayne makes me feel.

Lil Wayne’s style is “amazing,” according to my students, and I’ve heard the same from people I respect, but that doesn’t forgive his crimes against a subject I know my students need to comprehend in order to achieve greatness. Does he have greatness in him? I’m sure he does. Is he super rich and famous while I spend my time writing a second post about him on a blog no one reads? Yes, but he’s in the public spotlight, worthy and deserving of criticism.

Also, this wouldn’t be the first time a semi-foolish person made lots of money while also making my job more difficult.

Float On!

When I volunteered to be a teacher leader thing for my dear freshmen, I envisioned menial-yet-easy paperwork and a bit of Stand by Me-esque inspiration-ing (I’m trying out the hyphen key on my iPhone).

Turns out the first project I’m expected to co-spearhead is helping the kids make a float for the homecoming parade.

D’oh.

Testing

WordPress has an iPhone application. Now I can blog on the go, which is so necessary.

Athletes

I seem to have high more football players than I did last year.  Overall, they’re fine lads, but a few are embracing their (what I assume is only perceived) stupidity to a point where I assume they’re joking.  Instead of just, you know, trying to get the work done and understand the material, they stare at me with eyes as blank as their notebook paper, clinging tenaciously to the idea that they couldn’t possibly understand what a haiku is and damned if I think they’ll be able to write one.

 

A student that I had last year is in my tenth grade class now.  He seemed lazy but bright last year, but his stubbornness has only increased since last June, it seems.  A simple group presentation that the entire class breezed through was a huge excuse-laden ordeal for him and his group.  When I later discovered he played football, it all just made a little more sense to me.

 

What is it about these guys that lets them assume I’ll accept their learned ignorance?  Do they wisen up when the season ends?  I really don’t mean to pick on the athletes (to be fair, one of their star players is one of my favorite, brightest students), but I don’t see how they can play a sport that demands constant focus and a determination to never surrender yet give up so easily when they’re presented with an Indian creation myth.

The More Things Change

My school is pretty middle class (though people’s definitions of middle class vary greatly–let’s skew a little to the lower side, shall we?  Yes, we shall), but it’s sincerely deeply rooted in its rural, redneck-ness.

 

That said, the community’s changed quite a bit since I went to high school just down the road.  The local strip mall area is starting to look more and more like the strip mall areas of the more affluent surrounding communities.  The school is about ten minutes from two different Best Buy locations.  More and more iPhones are popping up in the school (including mine.  Thanks, Dad!  Graduate school was difficult, and I appreciate the reward).

 

Just when I start to think that the winds of change are at gale levels (gale-ity?).  That my school district is a region where college-educated parents will come to raise their kids on books and high expectations.  Just when I start to assume my students live in an area that prides itself more on academic success than being able to identify with Lynyrd Skynyrd songs, a student opens his wallet and shows me pictures of his pet squirrel.

 

Suddenly, I’m reminded that this place hasn’t changed too much, but that is precisely why I love it and think these kids are just as neat as can be.  Ok, I’m done with the NPR-esque attitude of “ain’t these backwater folk intriguingly droll?”  I’m going to listen to that new Kid Rock song that I so totally identify with, because, you know, I did stuff with my teenage friends while music played in the background, too. Ugh.

The First Weeks of School: Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

There’s some excitement in the air (for me, at least) with this new school year.  Still very much a new teacher–although with six months of combat experience (metaphor!) already–I’m trying to figure out how to best manage my time, challenge my students, etc.  These first couple weeks back at school have already shown me a lot:

 

Don’t Get Too Comfortable

My schedule and rosters didn’t stop adjusting until this third week of school, and my schedule now is way different from what I was told last June.  The trailer I was assigned for the entire day became the trailer I’m in for 3rd-5th periods.  The co-teacher I was excited to work with every period became the co-teacher I only see 1st and 6th periods.  New faces would replace ones that were just getting familiar, and my seating charts became unalphabetized quickly.  I can’t imagine how daunting of a task it is to shuffle 2000 kids around with the schedules they need and desire.  It makes my head hurt just thinking about it, so I’ve been careful not to complain too much.

 

Regime Change

We’ve got a new principal.  Since this is my first beginning of a school year, I can’t tell if it was him or just the excitement of a new year, but the faculty seemed pretty fired up during pre-planning.  All of the assistant principals (what ever happened to “vice principals”?) had an energy I’d never seen in them before.  It’s making for a nice place to work so far.

 

As of now, the new principal hasn’t said a word to me.  To be fair, I’ve passed him in the halls with nothing to say myself.  I’d love to make a good impression somehow to establish a reputation beyond the guy who almost got fired last year because he sucked so bad.

 

Visitors

Those assistant principals, as promised, are visiting our classrooms often this year.  Three weeks in, I’ve been observed three times.  Right now, they’re mostly looking for how the classroom is set up: standards posted, essential question on the board, etc.  Soon, though, they’ll start assessing how I’m doing my job.  It may seem intrusive and rude to pop in on teachers so often, but I actually like it.  Knowing that they’re coming in that often will keep me on my toes with a good lesson every day (hopefully) and will hopefully give students another figure of care and authority in the building.

 

It’s Still Hard

Teaching’s very difficult, and the problems I had last year are still issues (although much less dramatic).  I still can’t bring myself to sit down and plan lessons weeks in advance, and  I’m struggling with a few rowdier classes, trying to figure out a way to get them to stay attentive.  I’m happy to have the same grades I taught last year so I can repeat some of the lessons, but I’ve got a feeling I’ll be ready for any group besides freshmen after this year.  I adore them, but they’re an exercise in stress management, and I’m much more interested in helping students learn to craft and edit an essay rather than teaching them what a paragraph is.

 

That said, I have one of the coolest jobs in the world.  Granted, I’m not making movies or managing a professional wrestler (best job every), but teaching is an awesome career, and I’ve thought that to myself quite a few times this year.

 

[I'll try to stay a little more current for all zero of my readers, but as you can see from this post, most of my thoughts so far have been pretty standard stuff, barely worth posting.  I'm still a new teacher, though, so expect some revelations showing up soon.]

News Flash: Education Still Important

When I think about where I’d like my students to be intellectually after high school, I think it’s just as far away from this as possible.