Going back one year and reading what I wrote at the very beginning of this journey, I can only think of how much things have changed. It's not that the world, or the city we live in have changed, but how perspectives have evolved. It's about the evolution of a youthful idealism to pragmatic realism. It's about growing up and realizing that you can't change the world, but what you can change is what you can control. Perhaps most importantly, it's about giving it your all, and when your all isn't enough, you lay it down and allow God to carry you through.
33 weeks ago, this day - the last day of the school year - was one that seemed too far away. It was a day that seemed like it would never come, simply because I was struggling and trudging along, slowly learning the ropes of a profession I had just entered. However, as I left school for the last time this year, this moment wasn't as joyful and freeing as I had anticipated it to be. It was a bittersweet moment; a moment to ponder and reflect. My experiences this year have molded me and have enabled me to learn more about myself. They have also given me perspective into some of the greatest challenges we face as a society. I came into this job thinking that education was going to change everything - that by giving my kids the education and love they deserved, everything was going to change and somehow, their lives would get better. I'm going to be honest with myself and admit that I came into this thinking that I was here to serve an underserved population that needed outside help. I was wrong.
In some ways, I had a "messiah complex," wanting to come and 'save' these students. However, simply by living in Detroit and spending time with these students, I realized that they didn't need a 'savior.' These children don't need saving - and coming in with that mindset only made my job harder. I was frustrated that I wasn't making a difference, but I realized that my definition of "making a difference" came from my own background and neglected theirs. I realized that this job wasn't about changing lives; it's not my place to change a life. It's not my place to tell a child what to do with their life. It's their life; there's only one person that can change their lives, and that's themselves. They have their own minds, their own ambitions, and their own identity; it's not my job to create a new identity on their behalf, but to help them create their own. It's not my job to draw their life paths for them, but to provide the tools for them to do so themselves. Wouldn't it be so easy to just tell students what to do? Yes. But would it be effective? No. This isn't our role. Our role is to teach them the values of being a respectful and honorable human being; of being a citizen, a sibling, a child, a friend. Our role is to provide them the opportunities for change, but change itself relies on the student. We can motivate them, engage them, and show them the potential they have, but in the end, they themselves have to have the conviction that change is necessary. It is up to them to make a difference, and it is up to them to define what "making a difference" means. Detroit needs to change in its own way, not how outsiders tell them to.
Coming into this job and thinking that education was the solution to everything, I was quickly brought back to earth. I was brought back to the reality that there are so many other factors that inhibit the growth of a child. When you are afraid of walking to school by yourself, when you can't do your homework because you don't have electricity, and when you have to skip school because your parents can't take care of your siblings, it's not your fault. When you don't know how to be a man because your father is in jail, when you have to work three days a week because your single mother's three jobs isn't enough to support the family, and when you don't even have a home to return to after school, it's just not your fault. Our kids accept these as their reality - they don't seek to change this because this is simply how life is supposed to be in Detroit. They see this in their lives, in their families, and in their friends' families, so what's so bad about it? This is when I finally realized that you can only change what you can control. We are all humans after all, and we have our limitations. I have learned that I have to be okay with not turning a child's life around 180 degrees, to not blame myself for things out of my control, but to do everything I can within my spheres of influence. This isn't resigning to defeat, or to accept failure, but simply an acknowledgement of the reality of human limitations. It's the acknowledgement that we all play our roles, and together, something will change. As individuals, we just need to do our jobs, and do them well. There is so much wrong with our society - in particular, our city - and it's going to take so much more than me to change it. To think that I can do it is prideful and simply not trusting in the sovereignty of God; God put me in this place to do this job. While a teacher can also be a counselor, a parent and so forth, we have to learn to lay it all down and if we really did the best job we can, we just have to acknowledge that we can't change everything.
So what's next? I've been faced with the harsh reality of Detroit, and I've understood what change really means, but how does that change the work we do as educators? First, this requires a change in the mentality of the students. They need to see that the circumstances they are surrounded with should not be their reality. They need to see for themselves a need for change, because like I said, we can't force it onto them; they need to realize it themselves. As an educator, I can be the first to set an example. First and foremost, showing my kids patience goes a long way to teaching them the simple ideas of respect and human dignity. Indeed, I think the bittersweetness of the end of year partly lies within the fact that these past few months have been like pulling teeth with my kids. I end up raising my voice on a daily basis, sending kids out of the room because I just can't stand them, and even getting into petty little arguments with them. Yes, they were misbehaving, but could I have set a better example? Yes. When they see their parents and now their teachers all treat them this way, this becomes what they are socialized into. Simply being more patient with them doesn't sound like much, but it shows them that if they are treated with respect by their authority figures, they too need to treat their peers with that kind of respect. It's these little things that develop their social norms, growing as thoughtful and conscientious citizens.
Secondly, their growth from boys and girls into young men and women requires a significant investment on the part of both their teachers and their parents. What is much harder to change is the involvement of their parents, but what I can easily change is my investment. A regret I had this year was that I became too complacent in building relationships with my students. On the last day of class, I thought about how many students I had actually built a solid relationship with, and I can't think of more than 10 or 15. That's just over a tenth of my students. Like I had written earlier, true change doesn't come from me telling a child what to do. Genuine, lasting change comes from me building a relationship with a child and guiding them along the path of them realizing what they themselves need to change. It's about listening to their life stories, their bits and pieces of drama and their musings on life, and then giving them guidance to make the right decisions. It's impossible to take a broad, sweeping stroke and just tell kids to make good choices. Each student has had different life experiences that have defined who they are, and it takes time and investment to get to know them. This work isn't easy, and yes, it's time-consuming, but it's something we have to do. I've found myself wasting the whole hour of my lunch, when I have kids sitting in my classroom the entire time, waiting to be heard and talked to. It takes a lot more energy I know, but can I really expect a shift in my students' mindsets if I'm just sitting on the side watching?
Moving from personal growth into communal, societal growth, it has been incredibly important for me to understand that education is not the solution to everything. I've understood that sustainable change requires an investment by the entire community, with parents forming its cornerstone. Teachers and schools can only do so much - we can open pathways of opportunity, but these pathways need to have an end goal. We can give them knowledge and skills, but they need places in which to apply them. Our kids need to live in communities and environments that are conducive for their development. They don't need to grow up fatherless, they don't need to visit their brothers in jail on the weekends, and they certainly don't need to go to a family member's funeral every few weeks. Our kids need to have a place for healthy socialization, an outlet to express themselves, and avenues to form their own identity. Our kids need so much more than school. While I did learn that we can only change what we can control, we can empower our students to take ownership of their communities and make lasting change, piece by piece, for the betterment of the city they love. These kids live here, and they know best how to change their own community. That's why student-led movements are so important - they need to be empowered to speak out and take action. Imagine how powerful it would be if we had an entire student body openly reject drugs, board up abandoned houses, and cleaned up their neighborhood parks? To get to this point, we need to empower our students - to have them realize that they hold the key to their future, and their future is defined not by these 'outsiders,' by but them and their peers. Indeed, it's by developing these students' social skills, their social consciousness and by truly investing in them that they can be empowered to make a difference in their communities.
I've learned a lot this past year - I've had stories of success, but I also end the school year with regrets. I've learned that it is the students that are in control of their future - we are merely tools to help them get there. This job isn't about us and what we can do, but it's about how we can help our students do everything they can do. It's not about creating change as we see it, but about empowering our students to produce change that will last beyond their generation. This job is about realizing the potential of these students. Just by seeing what they go through on a daily basis, and still come to school wanting to learn, you can see what they're made of. These students are stronger, more resilient, more perseverant than I could ever imagine myself to be. The circumstances they deal with aren't their fault, but they shoulder the burden and move on. Let's give them some credit and trust that with God's grace, they will become the leaders that will shape their own futures and those of their communities.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
For the Future
Words can hardly describe how this past week went. I have been inspired and motivated again and again by my students, who, despite facing obstacle after obstacle, have come through and have shown me what perseverance means.
This past week, I attended the Michigan Youth in Government conference in Lansing with 12 of my students. These students participated in mock trials, a model legislature, and debate. After over 5 months of practice, our mock trial team was finally ready, and out of a field of 22 competing schools, qualified for the semi-finals of the State Tournament and finished 3rd. Their opposing teams couldn’t believe that a team from the east side of Detroit could do so well, and yes, despite where they may be from, the team finished 5-1. Over the past few months, we struggled, argued and they had to get pushed harder and harder. Through frustration and sometimes, heated debates, they finally pulled through and made themselves, us, and their school proud of their achievements.
Coming into this conference after a difficult week with some of the 9th graders, it was easy to return to the paradigm that teaching was a vicious cycle, where bad days would always follow good days. It was difficult for me to see the reward sometimes, as there really was no tangible reward. You don’t get thanked, and sometimes you don’t see the academic progress that you want in your students. However, seeing the relentless effort and pursuit of success of these students this week, I am inspired. Granted, I was with 12 of my best students, but their thirst for knowledge and the betterment of themselves was evident. I spent 18 hours a day with my students – beginning at breakfast, through committee sessions and mock trials, sharing lunch and dinner, and getting to hang out together afterwards, I have gotten to know them as people, and as leaders.
Throughout this week, my students fought through problems back home, little fights at the conference, and even a breakup, and still managed to get a tremendous amount out of this experience. They stood up for what they believed in – debating bills that would help the city of Detroit and its schools. They valiantly and passionately fought for rights for minorities and the less-fortunate. They stood up and corrected those who were ignorant of the problems facing inner cities, sharing real-life experiences of what it actually is like to live in poverty. They had no fear, even knowing that some of these students had higher ACT scores, or higher reading levels, or came from better schools and wealthier families. Nothing fazed them, because they themselves knew that they had the ability and the talent.
At the end of the conference last night, we sat out in the courtyard in a circle and shared our reflections. The students talked about how Denby helped them through their problems, about how much they love their school, and their hope that the changes forthcoming won’t affect their education. These students – every one of them leaders in their own right – showed me why I’m doing my job. It is to ensure that the students get what they deserve, both academically and emotionally. The students shared honestly about how Denby had changed them, and one theme that really stood out was how the school showed them that someone outside of their family could care about them. One of the students mentioned that their teachers were some of the few people outside of ‘his race’ that cared about who he was. They shared about how they went through the loss of family members, bad life choices and complicated backgrounds, and grew out of them better people and citizens. They shared about how their teachers had pushed them and made them learn, even when they didn’t want to. They told us that their best teachers were the ones that were the hardest on them; those that punished them for being late and not turning in homework.
At the end of the night, we huddled up together and shared. We prayed for our school, our teachers, our administration, and most importantly, our students. We prayed for stability, for safety, for strength. We shared about our hopes; a hope that the changes forthcoming will benefit, not obstruct, our students’ education. Our prayers and reflections gave me hope; it showed me how much the students cared and took ownership of their own education. It showed me that the students had a fire in them to fight for their rights and their future. It showed me that school, to most of these students, was a refuge. It was a refuge from the harsh realities of life, from the unfortunate circumstances that far too often plague our community. On Friday, 300 students from Denby walked out of class and protested outside the building for their rights. They protested because they had feared for the future of the school they love. They didn’t do it because they hated school, but the exact opposite. They did it because they loved their school and treasured it so much that they would risk punishment and stand in solidarity to advocate for its future.
After all this, I was once again reminded that sometimes, students don’t act out because they don’t care. The only hope, for some, is to be at school. To some, it is a refuge; to others, it is a home they never had. It is here that they have found family and love. It is here that they have found a meaning in life. And to take that away from any of them would be unfair. To give up disciplining them because I’m tired isn’t an excuse. To yell because they frustrate me isn’t an excuse. To want to quit because they are disrespectful, that’s not an excuse either. Why? Because these students care. Because we are fighting for their futures. We are teaching them to learn respect, to be productive members of society. It’s not time to back down and let them rot in the paradigm of failure and complacency, but it’s time to work and to love them like no other, because that’s why they keep on coming to school everyday. It’s time to write lessons that engage our students, to ask questions that challenge them, to discipline them in ways that are fair and consistent, and to love them like we have never loved before.
On a lighter note, here is what our country would look like if it were ran by high schoolers (based on the bills that were passed by the teen legislature and signed into law by our youth governor):
- -- All marriages are considered civil unions; the government has no role whatsoever in marriages
- -- Michigan would have a constitutional amendment allowing gay marriages
- -- Marijuana would be legalized for recreational purposes
- -- The sales tax would be increased to 7%
- -- Emergency financial managers would be outlawed
- -- Teens with learners permits would be able to drive at night
- -- All passengers in cars would have to wear seat belts
- -- The 10-cent bottle deposit would apply to all bottles
- -- All students would receive 2 total hours of ‘rest periods’ per semester
- -- Ultrasounds would be required before all abortions
- -- Gym would no longer be a requirement for graduation
- -- Hunting season would open on a weekend to allow for opening day celebrations
- -- Lowering the hunting age to 14 without adult supervision
- -- GPA-based bridge cards for work study-eligible college students
- -- Students would receive a college scholarship if they have at least a 3.0 GPA and a 21 on the ACT (this was especially interesting because ALL of the delegates from Southeast Michigan found this essential, but all of the delegates from elsewhere thought this was a form of socialism)
- -- Prostitution would be legalized in Michigan
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Apologies.
Sometimes, you have to do what's right, and not what you want, or what you THINK is best. This past Tuesday, I completely lost it in front of my kids. They were yelling, running around the classroom, throwing things around, and when I tried to discipline them, they made fun of me. Hearing and seeing all that, I lost it and yelled at them. I yelled at the class, and then yelled right in front of some of the kids' faces. Obviously, they shut up, but when I went home that night, I thought about how I had treated them, and whether they had deserved that.
After thinking about it at home and talking to others at church, I decided that there was only one right thing to do. The kids didn't deserve to be yelled at under any circumstances, and I had to apologize to them. They may have deserved discipline and consequences, but yelling at them accomplished nothing, and it simply reinforced to them the idea that only the most extreme methods can ever be successful. It taught them that talking things through, diplomacy and peaceful conflict resolution would never work. It taught them the wrong lesson about respect and dignity. I didn't treat them with respect, and if I wanted respect, I had to earn it.
Wednesday morning, I apologized to my classes for how I had treated them. I didn't want to have the conversation, and had feared it immensely. However, it really is true that when you do what's right, things will work out just fine. I didn't want to lose credibility and control of my classroom, so a reiteration of my class rules followed my apology. I told my kids that they deserved to be treated with respect and dignity, and that they needed to treat each other with the same respect they wanted. Two of my classes brushed it off and didn't really care about what I had to say, but my worst-behaved class listened intently and responded positively. I had let my guard down, been sincere with them and been vulnerable with them. This was the time when they could have taken advantage of my emotions and just pushed me off the edge. However, this class responded by telling me that no teacher has ever done that before, and that this was a lesson in respect that they, too, had to learn.
I had never expected a response like that. I wanted to do what was right, but I knew that it would probably end up messing up my classroom management system. However, it did just the opposite. My kids were on-task and learning that day. Coming home that day, I had very little doubt that this was not the product of something I myself had done, or what I was able to achieve in my classroom. Frankly, I didn't change my classroom management, and it wasn't like I had invested in my kids that much more. What it was was that I was pushed out of my comfort zone, done something I didn't want to do, and was blessed because it was the right thing to do. Most of the time, there are things we know are right, but would make us "lose face." I learned a lesson this week - the value in putting your pride aside and just be real with these students and show them what being an example means.
After thinking about it at home and talking to others at church, I decided that there was only one right thing to do. The kids didn't deserve to be yelled at under any circumstances, and I had to apologize to them. They may have deserved discipline and consequences, but yelling at them accomplished nothing, and it simply reinforced to them the idea that only the most extreme methods can ever be successful. It taught them that talking things through, diplomacy and peaceful conflict resolution would never work. It taught them the wrong lesson about respect and dignity. I didn't treat them with respect, and if I wanted respect, I had to earn it.
Wednesday morning, I apologized to my classes for how I had treated them. I didn't want to have the conversation, and had feared it immensely. However, it really is true that when you do what's right, things will work out just fine. I didn't want to lose credibility and control of my classroom, so a reiteration of my class rules followed my apology. I told my kids that they deserved to be treated with respect and dignity, and that they needed to treat each other with the same respect they wanted. Two of my classes brushed it off and didn't really care about what I had to say, but my worst-behaved class listened intently and responded positively. I had let my guard down, been sincere with them and been vulnerable with them. This was the time when they could have taken advantage of my emotions and just pushed me off the edge. However, this class responded by telling me that no teacher has ever done that before, and that this was a lesson in respect that they, too, had to learn.
I had never expected a response like that. I wanted to do what was right, but I knew that it would probably end up messing up my classroom management system. However, it did just the opposite. My kids were on-task and learning that day. Coming home that day, I had very little doubt that this was not the product of something I myself had done, or what I was able to achieve in my classroom. Frankly, I didn't change my classroom management, and it wasn't like I had invested in my kids that much more. What it was was that I was pushed out of my comfort zone, done something I didn't want to do, and was blessed because it was the right thing to do. Most of the time, there are things we know are right, but would make us "lose face." I learned a lesson this week - the value in putting your pride aside and just be real with these students and show them what being an example means.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
First Quarter Reflections
During the holiday season, I've gotten to talk to a lot of family and friends about what teaching has been like in Detroit. I've shared stories, experiences, frustrations, and occasionally, the joys, of teaching. What I've realized, and keep on realizing, is that the stories are more often than not, sad, pity stories. I lament the state of our education system, the behavior of the students, the lack of motivation, the systemic dysfunction, and so forth, but what I've been asked time and time again is this: "so, what are your success stories?" It takes me a few minutes to think of some, but once I do, these stories keep coming, one after the other. That's when I realized how jaded I was. I sounded jaded, angry, frustrated. The stories I tell aren't ones of encouragement, but ones of frustration and sometimes, bitterness.
If hope wasn't the reason I took this job, I don't know what was. I had hope. I had the hope that I could make a differences in these kids' education and their lives. Now, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is a deep sigh, followed by a rant about how my students piss me off. I've said this before already, but it really isn't a healthy attitude. I came in with a hope for the future, and I still have a hope. I've just seemed to lose sight of it. So as requested, here are some success stories. Stories of hope.
My students were scoring around 40% on their tests in September. They're now at 52%. It's far from where they need to be, but it's something.
My 9th graders were reading at Grade 2.5/3 in September. They're now reading, on average, at Grade 3/4. Far from even adequate, but it's growth.
I worked with a student for a few weeks to draft and re-write an essay on Progressivism. After she turned in her final draft, she told me that this was the first time she had learned how to write an essay.
Attendance has gone from around 50% in September to 70-80% in December.
In October, 55% of my students were failing my classes. In December, this number stood at 40%.
My kids, for the first time in their lives, understand the significance of the Constitution.
My students understand that putting words on a piece of paper isn't going to get them an A. Getting an A requires hard work, effort and dedication.
Many of my kids, for the first time ever, have grasped the idea that racism is not a one-way street. It goes both ways.
Some of my kids, for the first time ever, now understand that being Black in this society is not a bad thing, and no one can ever tell them that it is.
These students have had to practice treating others with respect, dignity and love. They have had to learn to be humble. They have had to learn how to put someone else's needs above your's. They have had walk away from, stop, report and mediate fights. They have had to learn not to gossip. They have had to learn how to honor your parents and be subject to authority. They have had to learn to find their own voice and use it. They have had to take responsibility for their own actions and face the consequences as necessary. They have had to own up to things they did and apologize to those they wronged. They have had to act beyond their age and be men and women. They have had to be examples to others; role models, tutors, mentors. They have had to be a best friend, a brother, a sister, a counselor, a teacher, to their peers.
This may sound like a list of achievements for myself, but the truth is that very little of this is a result of what I have done. All of it is the result of what these students have achieved. Yes, they may be disrespectful, or have moments when they can't behave or stop talking. Yes, they are performing far below grade level. Yes, they may frustrate me every single day. Yes, I'm still not a good teacher and I'm probably not doing these kids justice. But at the end of the day, these kids still deserve credit for what they have done. Yes, we're far from where we want to be, but they have undoubtedly grown, both academically and emotionally, throughout this past semester. Some of these kids have worked their butts off to be able to receive a quality education. It's all too easy to only remember why your life sucks, not what makes it bright here and there. It's all too easy to focus on the negatives and not remember the success stories. When someone asks me about my teaching, the first thing that comes out of my mouth shouldn't be a deep sigh of resignation. My experience shouldn't be defined by the failures, but the successes. You may say that failures are what drives us to do better - that's correct, but the successes are what keeps us afloat. The successes motivate us to do even better and remind us that what we're doing here means something.
These kids deserve much better than my jadedness, my rants and my complaints. They deserve to be recognized for what they have done. They deserve to be commended for their relentless effort and love for learning. I may be tired and unmotivated, but it's these success stories that will push me to do even better. These success stories give hope for the future. They offer a hope and a reminder that these kids have so much potential. They just need someone to help them realize that potential.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Strength
One of my students ran out of class today to take a phone call. Two minutes later, I walk out and see her sobbing on the floor in the hallway. I sit down next to her and ask her what was going on. Sobbing, she informs me that she just got a call from her mom telling her that her brother was just shot and died in the hospital.
After a few minutes, she picks herself up, and tells me she wants to go to class. Rejecting an offer to go home, she says that she wants to go to class because she didn't want to miss any work. It amazes me how much strength this 14 year-old has, and how much strength all my 14 year-olds have. What's sad is that this isn't the first case, and it won't be the last. My kids have been through broken families, physical abuse, homelessness, constant violence, and death after death of their loved ones. Many of them have lost everything, but they have shown a resiliency and strength that I had never seen before. They have an unmatched capacity to forgive; they have faced tremendous challenges, and have had the strength and perseverance to get through all of them. These are children living in the midst of unthinkable violence, but they want to learn. They have a thirst for knowledge, and they are crying out for teachers who care and will teach them what they need to know. They are here to learn, and for some of them, they are doing it because this is how they are going to make their mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, watching from Heaven, proud.
My students may act out, or talk in class, but deep down inside them, they have faced so much brokenness and have risen from them stronger. I was reminded today how much they deserved to be admired and respected for this resiliency that I didn't have at their age, and that I don't even know if I have now. If I ever needed motivation to teach these kids, this is it. They deserve it.
After a few minutes, she picks herself up, and tells me she wants to go to class. Rejecting an offer to go home, she says that she wants to go to class because she didn't want to miss any work. It amazes me how much strength this 14 year-old has, and how much strength all my 14 year-olds have. What's sad is that this isn't the first case, and it won't be the last. My kids have been through broken families, physical abuse, homelessness, constant violence, and death after death of their loved ones. Many of them have lost everything, but they have shown a resiliency and strength that I had never seen before. They have an unmatched capacity to forgive; they have faced tremendous challenges, and have had the strength and perseverance to get through all of them. These are children living in the midst of unthinkable violence, but they want to learn. They have a thirst for knowledge, and they are crying out for teachers who care and will teach them what they need to know. They are here to learn, and for some of them, they are doing it because this is how they are going to make their mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, watching from Heaven, proud.
My students may act out, or talk in class, but deep down inside them, they have faced so much brokenness and have risen from them stronger. I was reminded today how much they deserved to be admired and respected for this resiliency that I didn't have at their age, and that I don't even know if I have now. If I ever needed motivation to teach these kids, this is it. They deserve it.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Promises.
You may not care; you may not want to be here; you may hate me, disrespect me, mock me; you may try to get rid of me. But I will love every single one of you. I will do my very best to give you the education you deserve. I will sit you down and make you learn. I will give nothing less than my all to ensure that you grow up as responsible, mature adults. Try as hard as you want, but I'm not leaving you. There is nothing you can do to stop me from loving you for who you are as a person, as a child of God. You are never going to stop me from trying, falling, and rising up even stronger. You can frustrate me, anger me, try to push me off the cliff as much as you want, but if you think that's gonna drive me out, you're wrong. Together, we're going to learn; we're going to have fun; we're going to believe in ourselves when no one else would; we're going to succeed even if we are the only people that thought we could. You may never thank me or understand why I'm here, but that's okay. All I want you to know is that you are treasured, and you are loved. That, is my promise to you.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
They can, and they will.
Over the break, I got to talk to a lot of friends and family about how school has been going and how life has been in general. It was a time for me to rant about how bad school was, and how challenging things were going, and thinking back on those conversations, one thing stood out: the negativity that has slowly but surely creeped into me talking about my students and the system. I came into this full of hope (and some may say, a naive idealism) that I was going to turn things around and make these kids' lives better. Since then, I've been hit with multiple heavy doses of reality; I saw the magnitude of the challenge ahead of me, and slowly dampened expectations. Indeed, while being realistic is great and very necessary, I needed to not lose sight of the reason for which I came here to teach. I needed to remember why I joined this organization, and why I made a commitment to teach these kids. It was because I believed that they can, and will, get past the many obstacles they have faced in and outside of the schools and become productive, respectable citizens in their communities.
The first three months of teaching sent my lofty ambitions and goals tumbling down, and that was a good thing. My youthful idealism was replaced with a healthy view of reality that took pressure off myself and took the burden of 'changing' these kids off my shoulders. I saw how the kids couldn't read, couldn't behave, and didn't care about school, and I accepted it as something that just happens. Indeed, while being realistic was good, realism for me was soon replaced with apathy and negativity. My conversations with friends this weekend all revolved around how my kids couldn't read, or didn't care. They were negative in every way about my students and their attitude in school. I realized that the things I was saying about these students, while all true, showed an inherent attitude within me - one of resignation and complacency. I saw how these kids disrespected and mocked me, and decided that maybe I would focus on teaching those who did respect me. I saw how these kids didn't care about school, and I decided that if they didn't care, it was my job to teach those who did, instead of motivating those that didn't. I saw how these kids hated to be in my class, and decided that the best way forward was to discipline the troublemakers, but not investing in them and motivating them to actually want to be there. I had become apathetic about some of these students, mainly because I decided it was too much stress that I didn't really need to handle at the time.
Being indifferent, as it turns out, was so much easier than believing in each and every single one of these students. I love them all, but the question is whether I actually believed in all of them. Even my worse-behaved students I love and care about, because in the end, they're kids. However, did I really believe that they were going to make it academically and socially? Probably not. I had consigned myself to thinking that some of my students weren't going to pass the class. To me at the time, if they didn't care, how much effort did I need to make before it became too much? The answer, as I've come to realize, is never. I believe that God created every single human being in His own image (Gen. 1:27) and no one is worth any more or less than another. If Jesus himself didn't turn away lepers, tax collectors and prostitutes, why right did I have to do so? I had no right to think that some were beyond 'saving.'
Each and every single student is created in God's image, and not one of them deserve to be forgotten. They may not care, may not like me or want to be there, but as a teacher, it is my responsibility to believe in each and every one of them. I can't let indifference and apathy get the better of me, because that's not what I signed up for. It may take more work to get through to some than others, but that is indeed why I'm here. It may take a lot more stress, sleepless nights, frustrating conversations and prayers to motivate some others, but they deserve it. Many of these kids have never had a teacher that cared, and indeed, many of them don't even have parents that do. I can't blame them for resenting me, because in the end, it's not their fault. What I need to do is to ensure that each of my students can see God's love through me. God loved us unconditionally, and sent His son to die for us regardless of what we had done, so why can't we also learn to love unconditionally? I know it's hard, but I know that it's what I need to do. I know that I can only make a difference if I can get through not only to the 'good' kids but those that are apathetic and unmotivated. I'm not just going to stand there and let them fail; they deserve much better than that. Unconditional love means to sacrifice for them and to think of them before myself. I've gotten so much unconditional love from my parents, family, friends and God, and it's about time I showed it to my students. My students deserve it; each and every single one of them do.
Tomorrow will be a new day. It will be a different day, because I'm going in with a new attitude. I'm going in confident that none of them will fail, that they can all succeed. I'm going to believe in these students; that they will not only be better students, but better people. Because they can, and they will.
The first three months of teaching sent my lofty ambitions and goals tumbling down, and that was a good thing. My youthful idealism was replaced with a healthy view of reality that took pressure off myself and took the burden of 'changing' these kids off my shoulders. I saw how the kids couldn't read, couldn't behave, and didn't care about school, and I accepted it as something that just happens. Indeed, while being realistic was good, realism for me was soon replaced with apathy and negativity. My conversations with friends this weekend all revolved around how my kids couldn't read, or didn't care. They were negative in every way about my students and their attitude in school. I realized that the things I was saying about these students, while all true, showed an inherent attitude within me - one of resignation and complacency. I saw how these kids disrespected and mocked me, and decided that maybe I would focus on teaching those who did respect me. I saw how these kids didn't care about school, and I decided that if they didn't care, it was my job to teach those who did, instead of motivating those that didn't. I saw how these kids hated to be in my class, and decided that the best way forward was to discipline the troublemakers, but not investing in them and motivating them to actually want to be there. I had become apathetic about some of these students, mainly because I decided it was too much stress that I didn't really need to handle at the time.
Being indifferent, as it turns out, was so much easier than believing in each and every single one of these students. I love them all, but the question is whether I actually believed in all of them. Even my worse-behaved students I love and care about, because in the end, they're kids. However, did I really believe that they were going to make it academically and socially? Probably not. I had consigned myself to thinking that some of my students weren't going to pass the class. To me at the time, if they didn't care, how much effort did I need to make before it became too much? The answer, as I've come to realize, is never. I believe that God created every single human being in His own image (Gen. 1:27) and no one is worth any more or less than another. If Jesus himself didn't turn away lepers, tax collectors and prostitutes, why right did I have to do so? I had no right to think that some were beyond 'saving.'
Each and every single student is created in God's image, and not one of them deserve to be forgotten. They may not care, may not like me or want to be there, but as a teacher, it is my responsibility to believe in each and every one of them. I can't let indifference and apathy get the better of me, because that's not what I signed up for. It may take more work to get through to some than others, but that is indeed why I'm here. It may take a lot more stress, sleepless nights, frustrating conversations and prayers to motivate some others, but they deserve it. Many of these kids have never had a teacher that cared, and indeed, many of them don't even have parents that do. I can't blame them for resenting me, because in the end, it's not their fault. What I need to do is to ensure that each of my students can see God's love through me. God loved us unconditionally, and sent His son to die for us regardless of what we had done, so why can't we also learn to love unconditionally? I know it's hard, but I know that it's what I need to do. I know that I can only make a difference if I can get through not only to the 'good' kids but those that are apathetic and unmotivated. I'm not just going to stand there and let them fail; they deserve much better than that. Unconditional love means to sacrifice for them and to think of them before myself. I've gotten so much unconditional love from my parents, family, friends and God, and it's about time I showed it to my students. My students deserve it; each and every single one of them do.
Tomorrow will be a new day. It will be a different day, because I'm going in with a new attitude. I'm going in confident that none of them will fail, that they can all succeed. I'm going to believe in these students; that they will not only be better students, but better people. Because they can, and they will.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
I Will Follow
Not going to update about school this time. At this point, school's just what it is; kids have good days and bad days, and good weeks and bad weeks. Sometimes they will never listen, and others they are angels. At least regardless of the situation, they're learning. So school's going alright.
Throughout the past few weeks, however, I've had to do a lot of thinking about the purpose of my work, and especially, the purpose of living in Detroit specifically. It's not a coincidence I was placed in Detroit; there was a reason, but I've failed to find out what it was. In fact, I'll admit I wasn't really even trying until a sermon my pastor at Mack Ave Community Church gave two weeks ago. He gave this sermon on Genesis 30-31, where God blesses Jacob abundantly despite his brokenness, and then calls Jacob to leave his flocks and land. In this passage, Jacob was later protected from Laban because he was able to prove to him that he was a man of integrity and of honesty. Indeed, it was God who protected him, and He had done so because Jacob had listened, and moreover, because God uses broken people in miraculous ways. Pastor Russ later made a really good point - he said that a lot of us at the church see Detroit as a temporary 'prison;' that we came because Wayne was the only school we got into, or Detroit was the only place that we could find a job at. He said that many of us come for the requisite couple years and then leave. Not only that, but during these two years, many of us are waiting to leave; we don't see this as our home, but merely a place to hang out before we find somewhere better to be. That statement really struck home for me; when I got the assignment to Detroit, I was apprehensive and not overly excited. My mentality had always been one of coming here, working for a few years, get my certification, and then teach out west. What I had failed to do was to consider why God had called me to Detroit specifically. It was all about me and my own comfort, but I never considered why I was called to this city.
That sermon really made me think about my purpose here, and how I view the community I'm working with. These children don't deserve to be a 'project,' or guinea pigs that I'm using to learn how to teach. This community and church don't deserve to have given so much to me, but receive so little in return. This city doesn't deserve to have provided this opportunity and this welcome to people like me and then just see people slowly leave to better pastures. We've been through that before already - people came for the good and didn't stay for the bad - and that is why Detroit is what it is nowadays. If I believed in Detroit and the revival of this great city, I must know that Detroit deserves more than that. Detroit deserves people that won't only care about it for two or three years, but will love and cherish this city and its people for years and years to come. Mack Ave has a wonderful vision of having a diverse group of people move into the harsher neighborhoods of Detroit and immersing themselves into the community to revive it. It takes a lot of sacrifice and commitment, but this is what Detroit needs.
This message really got me thinking about the commitment (or lack thereof) I'm making to this city. I don't know what the answer is yet, but I do know that this city deserves better than someone like me who saw Detroit as a short-term stopgap. Detroit needs a revival, and I want to be part of that. I'm not ready to make a commitment just yet, but I am ready to say that God called me here for a reason, and I can't just ignore that. I need to be like Jacob and be obedient when I'm called to certain places or situations. I love the city of Detroit, and I really can't just see this as a two or three-year thing. This has opened my heart up to a long-term commitment to this city. I'd like to be here to see it rise up from the ashes, and I guess that's an option I have to keep open as I pray and deliberate.
Speaking of my purpose here, I was at the Veritas Forum in Ann Arbor last Friday. A few things the speaker said reminded me of my purpose, which I have too often lost track of. Teach for America has reminded me time after time that this work is about achieving change; to increase test scores and reading levels. While that is true, I'm forgetting what teaching really is. Teaching is to transform the minds of the students; to show them the love they deserve and instill in them a change that isn't only academic but emotional, mental and cultural. It's easy to focus too heavily on test scores and student achievement (and thus yell at them for not doing work) and then forget to love them unconditionally. This speaker said that "knowledge is from the head, but understanding is from the heart." She's right - we're not just teaching them knowledge, but we're teaching them understanding. We're teaching an understanding of the world around them, an understanding of those different from them, an understanding of the hardships and suffering of those much worse off than them. I've forgotten that too often, and that talk was really good to just refocus my work; to remind myself of my purpose and my goal.
Reading through the story of Jacob and many others in the Bible that followed even when they may not have wanted to was a firm reminder that I can't just do it my way. Jacob's story tells us that we can't be perfect, but it's exactly these imperfections that God uses for change. We need to admit to our imperfections, be people of honesty and integrity, and then serve not despite our imperfections, but using these imperfections. That's why I'm here.
Throughout the past few weeks, however, I've had to do a lot of thinking about the purpose of my work, and especially, the purpose of living in Detroit specifically. It's not a coincidence I was placed in Detroit; there was a reason, but I've failed to find out what it was. In fact, I'll admit I wasn't really even trying until a sermon my pastor at Mack Ave Community Church gave two weeks ago. He gave this sermon on Genesis 30-31, where God blesses Jacob abundantly despite his brokenness, and then calls Jacob to leave his flocks and land. In this passage, Jacob was later protected from Laban because he was able to prove to him that he was a man of integrity and of honesty. Indeed, it was God who protected him, and He had done so because Jacob had listened, and moreover, because God uses broken people in miraculous ways. Pastor Russ later made a really good point - he said that a lot of us at the church see Detroit as a temporary 'prison;' that we came because Wayne was the only school we got into, or Detroit was the only place that we could find a job at. He said that many of us come for the requisite couple years and then leave. Not only that, but during these two years, many of us are waiting to leave; we don't see this as our home, but merely a place to hang out before we find somewhere better to be. That statement really struck home for me; when I got the assignment to Detroit, I was apprehensive and not overly excited. My mentality had always been one of coming here, working for a few years, get my certification, and then teach out west. What I had failed to do was to consider why God had called me to Detroit specifically. It was all about me and my own comfort, but I never considered why I was called to this city.
That sermon really made me think about my purpose here, and how I view the community I'm working with. These children don't deserve to be a 'project,' or guinea pigs that I'm using to learn how to teach. This community and church don't deserve to have given so much to me, but receive so little in return. This city doesn't deserve to have provided this opportunity and this welcome to people like me and then just see people slowly leave to better pastures. We've been through that before already - people came for the good and didn't stay for the bad - and that is why Detroit is what it is nowadays. If I believed in Detroit and the revival of this great city, I must know that Detroit deserves more than that. Detroit deserves people that won't only care about it for two or three years, but will love and cherish this city and its people for years and years to come. Mack Ave has a wonderful vision of having a diverse group of people move into the harsher neighborhoods of Detroit and immersing themselves into the community to revive it. It takes a lot of sacrifice and commitment, but this is what Detroit needs.
This message really got me thinking about the commitment (or lack thereof) I'm making to this city. I don't know what the answer is yet, but I do know that this city deserves better than someone like me who saw Detroit as a short-term stopgap. Detroit needs a revival, and I want to be part of that. I'm not ready to make a commitment just yet, but I am ready to say that God called me here for a reason, and I can't just ignore that. I need to be like Jacob and be obedient when I'm called to certain places or situations. I love the city of Detroit, and I really can't just see this as a two or three-year thing. This has opened my heart up to a long-term commitment to this city. I'd like to be here to see it rise up from the ashes, and I guess that's an option I have to keep open as I pray and deliberate.
Speaking of my purpose here, I was at the Veritas Forum in Ann Arbor last Friday. A few things the speaker said reminded me of my purpose, which I have too often lost track of. Teach for America has reminded me time after time that this work is about achieving change; to increase test scores and reading levels. While that is true, I'm forgetting what teaching really is. Teaching is to transform the minds of the students; to show them the love they deserve and instill in them a change that isn't only academic but emotional, mental and cultural. It's easy to focus too heavily on test scores and student achievement (and thus yell at them for not doing work) and then forget to love them unconditionally. This speaker said that "knowledge is from the head, but understanding is from the heart." She's right - we're not just teaching them knowledge, but we're teaching them understanding. We're teaching an understanding of the world around them, an understanding of those different from them, an understanding of the hardships and suffering of those much worse off than them. I've forgotten that too often, and that talk was really good to just refocus my work; to remind myself of my purpose and my goal.
Reading through the story of Jacob and many others in the Bible that followed even when they may not have wanted to was a firm reminder that I can't just do it my way. Jacob's story tells us that we can't be perfect, but it's exactly these imperfections that God uses for change. We need to admit to our imperfections, be people of honesty and integrity, and then serve not despite our imperfections, but using these imperfections. That's why I'm here.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
First Month of School
The first month of school has been nothing short of crazy. It's been a long, tiring but ultimately rewarding roller coaster ride. I've had to think and re-think the decisions I've made, the actions I've taken, and use the lessons from this past month to make me the best teacher I can be. It hasn't been easy, and it won't be for a while, but I'm getting there, and my students are getting there. Slowly but surely, we'll make it.
The first two weeks of school were productive and positive. Even though my 9th graders came in on a 4th grade reading level and had very little knowledge of social studies, they showed a desire to learn and a willingness to work. I was known as the "mean" and "irritating" teacher, and students knew what I had expected of them. After the first two weeks, however, the honeymoon ended. They got comfortable, and started to get testy. They would start yelling in class about how the class is boring, how they don't want to be there, fight with each other in class, jump over desks, and talk back at me. It certainly hasn't been easy - my lunch break is the only thing saving me from a mental collapse before my fifth hour class. For the first time this year, I yelled at my students this week. For four straight weeks, they had tested me and frustrated me, and I finally lost it. Raising my voice, I questioned what was going on in their heads that could possibly possess them to think that their behavior was okay. Whether it was a good decision, we'll see, but they needed to see that I wasn't just going to let it go. Seeing that I lost control, however, might also give them extra incentive to keep doing it. I don't know what will happen - we'll have to wait and see.
Lessons Learned
Start off mean, and never stop being mean
The day I stopped being mean and enforcing strict consequences, the students pounced on it, and have not relented since. Once they think they can get away with something, they will keep on doing it, and when the entire class is doing it, it's too late to enforce discipline, because it's 20 of them against one of you. Also, being mean shows them that you care. It sounds weird, but if I let them get away with everything, they feel like I don't really care. To show them that their learning matters, I HAVE to maintain strict consistency.
You can't teach everything
That first week, I realized that I had four years of material to cover in one. They were so far behind that I thought they needed to compensate for all that time lost, so I ended up doing a lot of the talking and we did fewer fun activities, just because I thought they needed to learn. It turns out that not only is this inhibiting their learning, but they just won't be interested. I learned that I can't possibly teach everything. We're not going from A to Z; we're going from A to B. Today, they learned one more thing than they did yesterday, and I should be happy about that. They need to have fun, or else they just won't learn.
Don't take it personally
They may not respect you, or even like you, but you just can't take it personally. After taking taunt after taunt in class, and hearing argument after argument, it's easy to feel like you're a bad teacher. My students have told me I wasn't doing my job right, that they thought the class sucked, and even that they "don't give a shit" about what I tell them to do. Taking that from about 20 different students a day isn't easy, and the only way through it is to know that it's not about you. I can't take it personally; they've been through so many years of teachers that don't care that they just don't trust teachers. It's my job to show them that I do care, to build that respect, and not take insults personally.
Don't engage them
Some of the most frustrating lessons I've had were when I engaged my students in arguments. Sometimes they would complain I was picking on them, or that they didn't do what I had accused of them of. If I engaged them, we'd lose 5 full minutes of valuable class time, and it would usually involve them having fun pissing me off and me getting mad. None of those are good things. That's why: don't engage them.
They need A LOT of guidance
I tried having them take notes on my Powerpoints. Thinking that they could take notes like college students, I was wrong. If I had a lot on my presentation, they would copy straight off the slides. If I had very little on the presentation, they would only copy what was on the slides. Either way, they were not listening, and were not copying down key points we were bringing up in class. After we discussed the topic, they would ask what specifically they had to write down. So, the lesson learned is that they're not trained to think about topics, but that their previous teachers have just spoon-fed them. Here's to training up five classes of students that will think and not just write.
Be optimistic
During the past two weeks, I wake up every morning needing motivation to go to school. I keep asking myself what I've gotten myself into. It's not easy, and the only way to get through it all is to know that things are going to change. It's to know that things are going to get better, and that these hard, long weeks are eventually going to lead to student success and investment. Even though they're poorly behaved, they're learning. They're still better off than they were a month ago, so think of what can happen in a year? Yes - it's hard, but it really can't get any worse, which means it's only going to get better.
While I'm thinking about how bad my classes are, it should be noted that there are many others who have it much worse than I do. The Teach for America - Detroit corps started at 109 in May, and as of today, we are at just 79. Friends of mine - all great people and excellent teachers - have quit under the pressure, the grind and the never-ending workload. Others have been removed from their positions by their school. Some just could not cope with the unreasonably high expectations placed on them, and some just could not get everything they wanted to do done. Many of these 30 quit because they were expected to be excellent teachers in their first year, and for first year teachers, it just wasn't possible. The reality is that none of us are good teachers. Not yet, at least. The reality is that we all need improvement, and people need to acknowledge that. Being an idealistic organization is a good thing in some ways, because you're never letting reality inhibit your ambitions. However, you have to be practical; students who have gotten years of poor education can't just be made into stellar scholars in four weeks. Teachers who have only gotten four weeks of proper student teaching just can't be expected to change the world. Teachers are still people, and many of my friends and fellow teachers left simply because they were not being treated as people. If the teacher isn't being cared for, how can the kids be? What's sad isn't that these fine people have left their jobs; what's sad is that this experience has turned them away from teaching. Those who wanted to teach as a career were horrified by the expectations and pressure placed on them, and disenchanted by the lack of preparation they were given. This has made people feel like bad teachers, and believe that they just don't cut it. That's not true. That's what they will make you think, but the reality is that we're all bad teachers, and we'll all get good. This organization needs to raise up teachers who will teach for life, not find a way for college graduates who will be given just enough tools to get through two years. We don't need temporary teachers; we need lifelong ones. This organization may believe in some great ideals, but we need to be realistic; we have to take it step by step, and not expect the world to change overnight.
In some ways, this has shown me the benefits of traditional education training. These teachers get a full year in the classroom before they're left on their own; we had four weeks. These teachers get the experience, the know-how, and even the little details that can make such a difference. Also, these teachers get to experience teaching before they commit to being with 200 students. Some people join alternative teaching programs, and then realize that teaching wasn't their thing. If we had traditional training, this realization would have come during training. Teach for America will portray itself as a social justice advocate and a community service organization, and so people join to fight for justice. When you do that, you're misleading a lot of people who want to fight for justice, but not necessarily to teach. As I've told my friends who are applying, do it not because you want to change the world, but simply because you want to teach. This isn't something you do to feel good, 'cause it really won't make you feel very good. They won't tell you that when they recruit you, but hey, that's life.
America's education system is broken, and over the twenty-year history of this organization, the achievement gap has not narrowed. Our system is still broken, and we need to find ways to change it. These short-term programs aren't enough; we need solutions that will actually make a difference. These kids have so much potential, and slowly but surely, we need to realize it.
The first two weeks of school were productive and positive. Even though my 9th graders came in on a 4th grade reading level and had very little knowledge of social studies, they showed a desire to learn and a willingness to work. I was known as the "mean" and "irritating" teacher, and students knew what I had expected of them. After the first two weeks, however, the honeymoon ended. They got comfortable, and started to get testy. They would start yelling in class about how the class is boring, how they don't want to be there, fight with each other in class, jump over desks, and talk back at me. It certainly hasn't been easy - my lunch break is the only thing saving me from a mental collapse before my fifth hour class. For the first time this year, I yelled at my students this week. For four straight weeks, they had tested me and frustrated me, and I finally lost it. Raising my voice, I questioned what was going on in their heads that could possibly possess them to think that their behavior was okay. Whether it was a good decision, we'll see, but they needed to see that I wasn't just going to let it go. Seeing that I lost control, however, might also give them extra incentive to keep doing it. I don't know what will happen - we'll have to wait and see.
Lessons Learned
Start off mean, and never stop being mean
The day I stopped being mean and enforcing strict consequences, the students pounced on it, and have not relented since. Once they think they can get away with something, they will keep on doing it, and when the entire class is doing it, it's too late to enforce discipline, because it's 20 of them against one of you. Also, being mean shows them that you care. It sounds weird, but if I let them get away with everything, they feel like I don't really care. To show them that their learning matters, I HAVE to maintain strict consistency.
You can't teach everything
That first week, I realized that I had four years of material to cover in one. They were so far behind that I thought they needed to compensate for all that time lost, so I ended up doing a lot of the talking and we did fewer fun activities, just because I thought they needed to learn. It turns out that not only is this inhibiting their learning, but they just won't be interested. I learned that I can't possibly teach everything. We're not going from A to Z; we're going from A to B. Today, they learned one more thing than they did yesterday, and I should be happy about that. They need to have fun, or else they just won't learn.
Don't take it personally
They may not respect you, or even like you, but you just can't take it personally. After taking taunt after taunt in class, and hearing argument after argument, it's easy to feel like you're a bad teacher. My students have told me I wasn't doing my job right, that they thought the class sucked, and even that they "don't give a shit" about what I tell them to do. Taking that from about 20 different students a day isn't easy, and the only way through it is to know that it's not about you. I can't take it personally; they've been through so many years of teachers that don't care that they just don't trust teachers. It's my job to show them that I do care, to build that respect, and not take insults personally.
Don't engage them
Some of the most frustrating lessons I've had were when I engaged my students in arguments. Sometimes they would complain I was picking on them, or that they didn't do what I had accused of them of. If I engaged them, we'd lose 5 full minutes of valuable class time, and it would usually involve them having fun pissing me off and me getting mad. None of those are good things. That's why: don't engage them.
They need A LOT of guidance
I tried having them take notes on my Powerpoints. Thinking that they could take notes like college students, I was wrong. If I had a lot on my presentation, they would copy straight off the slides. If I had very little on the presentation, they would only copy what was on the slides. Either way, they were not listening, and were not copying down key points we were bringing up in class. After we discussed the topic, they would ask what specifically they had to write down. So, the lesson learned is that they're not trained to think about topics, but that their previous teachers have just spoon-fed them. Here's to training up five classes of students that will think and not just write.
Be optimistic
During the past two weeks, I wake up every morning needing motivation to go to school. I keep asking myself what I've gotten myself into. It's not easy, and the only way to get through it all is to know that things are going to change. It's to know that things are going to get better, and that these hard, long weeks are eventually going to lead to student success and investment. Even though they're poorly behaved, they're learning. They're still better off than they were a month ago, so think of what can happen in a year? Yes - it's hard, but it really can't get any worse, which means it's only going to get better.
While I'm thinking about how bad my classes are, it should be noted that there are many others who have it much worse than I do. The Teach for America - Detroit corps started at 109 in May, and as of today, we are at just 79. Friends of mine - all great people and excellent teachers - have quit under the pressure, the grind and the never-ending workload. Others have been removed from their positions by their school. Some just could not cope with the unreasonably high expectations placed on them, and some just could not get everything they wanted to do done. Many of these 30 quit because they were expected to be excellent teachers in their first year, and for first year teachers, it just wasn't possible. The reality is that none of us are good teachers. Not yet, at least. The reality is that we all need improvement, and people need to acknowledge that. Being an idealistic organization is a good thing in some ways, because you're never letting reality inhibit your ambitions. However, you have to be practical; students who have gotten years of poor education can't just be made into stellar scholars in four weeks. Teachers who have only gotten four weeks of proper student teaching just can't be expected to change the world. Teachers are still people, and many of my friends and fellow teachers left simply because they were not being treated as people. If the teacher isn't being cared for, how can the kids be? What's sad isn't that these fine people have left their jobs; what's sad is that this experience has turned them away from teaching. Those who wanted to teach as a career were horrified by the expectations and pressure placed on them, and disenchanted by the lack of preparation they were given. This has made people feel like bad teachers, and believe that they just don't cut it. That's not true. That's what they will make you think, but the reality is that we're all bad teachers, and we'll all get good. This organization needs to raise up teachers who will teach for life, not find a way for college graduates who will be given just enough tools to get through two years. We don't need temporary teachers; we need lifelong ones. This organization may believe in some great ideals, but we need to be realistic; we have to take it step by step, and not expect the world to change overnight.
In some ways, this has shown me the benefits of traditional education training. These teachers get a full year in the classroom before they're left on their own; we had four weeks. These teachers get the experience, the know-how, and even the little details that can make such a difference. Also, these teachers get to experience teaching before they commit to being with 200 students. Some people join alternative teaching programs, and then realize that teaching wasn't their thing. If we had traditional training, this realization would have come during training. Teach for America will portray itself as a social justice advocate and a community service organization, and so people join to fight for justice. When you do that, you're misleading a lot of people who want to fight for justice, but not necessarily to teach. As I've told my friends who are applying, do it not because you want to change the world, but simply because you want to teach. This isn't something you do to feel good, 'cause it really won't make you feel very good. They won't tell you that when they recruit you, but hey, that's life.
America's education system is broken, and over the twenty-year history of this organization, the achievement gap has not narrowed. Our system is still broken, and we need to find ways to change it. These short-term programs aren't enough; we need solutions that will actually make a difference. These kids have so much potential, and slowly but surely, we need to realize it.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
This is Michigan.
Talk about standing up and believing... On Saturday, September 10, a team of dedicated and committed individuals stood up and believed. They believed they could win; they believed they deserved to win; they believed they could make history. And they did.
In front of a record-breaking crowd of 114,801 in the first-ever night game at Michigan Stadium, the University of Michigan stood up, and believed. In what had been a poor performance, the University of Notre Dame almost tripled Michigan's offensive yardage in the first half. By the end of the third quarter, Notre Dame was leading 24-7, and they looked unbeatable. We had packed into the Big House excited and expectant; there was no way we were going to lose against one of our biggest rivals. However, after two interceptions from Denard Robinson and a series of horribly botched defensive plays, a loss seemed inevitable.
Somehow, for the third year in a row, Michigan decided to step up its game in the fourth quarter. Within ten minutes, Denard Robinson had orchestrated two touchdowns, making the score 24-21. With four minutes left and Michigan within field goal range, however, Denard then threw an interception that made the comeback seem impossible. Then the miracles started. Michigan's usually unreliable defense forced Notre Dame into a three-and-out, and Denard marched down the field and threw a touchdown pass with 1:12 left, making the score 28-24. At this point, the Big House was exploding with noise and celebrations - the comeback was complete. With only a minute left, we had fought back from three touchdowns behind and are beating Notre Dame. I couldn't believe what had happened, but little did I know, there was more to come.
After that imperious fourth quarter performance, it was Michigan's turn to look unbeatable. There was no way Notre Dame was marching down 80 yards in one minute to win the game. But they did. With 30 seconds left, Tommy Rees threw a touchdown pass to a totally unmarked receiver, and Michigan Stadium was silenced. Our hearts sank, and the comeback that took 15 minutes to complete took merely 30 seconds to defeat. Again, I couldn't believe what happened. 30 seconds was definitely not enough for us to score a touchdown. But of course, we had Denard Robinson. Only three plays later, Michigan was at Notre Dame's 16-yard line. With 8 seconds left, we could have gone for the field goal to tie it, or risk going over time and try to win it. At this point, Brady Hoke stood up and believed. He believed in his team and his quarterback. With only 2 seconds left, Denard threw a touchdown pass to Roy Roundtree and FINALLY completed the comeback. The stadium erupted, and I just stood there, with my hands stretched into the air, in disbelief. I couldn't even cheer or celebrate. I was just in sheer disbelief. Three touchdowns in one minute. We did it, in front of the nation, against Notre Dame, in the first night game at the Big House. I just stood there and stared onto the field. I was speechless. Yes, it happened.
I had never seen Michigan Stadium that loud, and had never seen that many people stay after the game. We were just there, dancing and singing to our team. This win wasn't significant just because it was the first night game, or because we beat Notre Dame, or even because we came from behind. But it was because it gave us hope as Michigan fans. We had been through so much; so much pain and despair. But this showed us how the team still had the fight in them. Brady Hoke showed that he believes in Michigan. This win was so significant because we never gave up; with 30 seconds to march down the field, the team kept fighting and fighting. They never gave up, but they marched down that field, determined they were going to win the game.
This game was nothing short of amazing. From the flyover to parachuters from the 101st Airborne parachuting into the stadium; from the rave during the halftime show to seeing Michigan Stadium under the lights, it was a special day in Michigan Football history. More importantly, however, we saw a team that never gave up. We saw a team that, despite having gone through tough times, came out even tougher. We saw a team that stood up and believed. This is Michigan.
It's Great to Be a Michigan Wolverine.
Michigan 35-31 Notre Dame
Forever and ever, Go Blue.
In front of a record-breaking crowd of 114,801 in the first-ever night game at Michigan Stadium, the University of Michigan stood up, and believed. In what had been a poor performance, the University of Notre Dame almost tripled Michigan's offensive yardage in the first half. By the end of the third quarter, Notre Dame was leading 24-7, and they looked unbeatable. We had packed into the Big House excited and expectant; there was no way we were going to lose against one of our biggest rivals. However, after two interceptions from Denard Robinson and a series of horribly botched defensive plays, a loss seemed inevitable.
Somehow, for the third year in a row, Michigan decided to step up its game in the fourth quarter. Within ten minutes, Denard Robinson had orchestrated two touchdowns, making the score 24-21. With four minutes left and Michigan within field goal range, however, Denard then threw an interception that made the comeback seem impossible. Then the miracles started. Michigan's usually unreliable defense forced Notre Dame into a three-and-out, and Denard marched down the field and threw a touchdown pass with 1:12 left, making the score 28-24. At this point, the Big House was exploding with noise and celebrations - the comeback was complete. With only a minute left, we had fought back from three touchdowns behind and are beating Notre Dame. I couldn't believe what had happened, but little did I know, there was more to come.
After that imperious fourth quarter performance, it was Michigan's turn to look unbeatable. There was no way Notre Dame was marching down 80 yards in one minute to win the game. But they did. With 30 seconds left, Tommy Rees threw a touchdown pass to a totally unmarked receiver, and Michigan Stadium was silenced. Our hearts sank, and the comeback that took 15 minutes to complete took merely 30 seconds to defeat. Again, I couldn't believe what happened. 30 seconds was definitely not enough for us to score a touchdown. But of course, we had Denard Robinson. Only three plays later, Michigan was at Notre Dame's 16-yard line. With 8 seconds left, we could have gone for the field goal to tie it, or risk going over time and try to win it. At this point, Brady Hoke stood up and believed. He believed in his team and his quarterback. With only 2 seconds left, Denard threw a touchdown pass to Roy Roundtree and FINALLY completed the comeback. The stadium erupted, and I just stood there, with my hands stretched into the air, in disbelief. I couldn't even cheer or celebrate. I was just in sheer disbelief. Three touchdowns in one minute. We did it, in front of the nation, against Notre Dame, in the first night game at the Big House. I just stood there and stared onto the field. I was speechless. Yes, it happened.
I had never seen Michigan Stadium that loud, and had never seen that many people stay after the game. We were just there, dancing and singing to our team. This win wasn't significant just because it was the first night game, or because we beat Notre Dame, or even because we came from behind. But it was because it gave us hope as Michigan fans. We had been through so much; so much pain and despair. But this showed us how the team still had the fight in them. Brady Hoke showed that he believes in Michigan. This win was so significant because we never gave up; with 30 seconds to march down the field, the team kept fighting and fighting. They never gave up, but they marched down that field, determined they were going to win the game.
This game was nothing short of amazing. From the flyover to parachuters from the 101st Airborne parachuting into the stadium; from the rave during the halftime show to seeing Michigan Stadium under the lights, it was a special day in Michigan Football history. More importantly, however, we saw a team that never gave up. We saw a team that, despite having gone through tough times, came out even tougher. We saw a team that stood up and believed. This is Michigan.
It's Great to Be a Michigan Wolverine.
Michigan 35-31 Notre Dame
Forever and ever, Go Blue.
Friday, September 9, 2011
First Week of School
I just finished a crazy, roller coaster ride of the first week. I teach four sections of 9th Grade U.S. History, and one section of Basic Law. The content is really exciting, as I got the social studies placement I've always wanted, and Basic Law is a really cool class. Basic Law covers, well, the basics of law; we cover constitutional law, civil law, torts, criminal law, trial procedures, international law etc... We also participate in the Michigan Mock Trial and Youth in Government program, which holds conferences in Lansing every year. The coolest thing about this class is the Teen Court program, where the District Court brings in an actual juvenile trial into my classroom (also a courtroom) and the trial happens right in front of my students. These juvenile defendants are non-violent offenders who admit guilt before the trial, and my students basically serve as a teen jury that will question the defendant and issue a recommendation to the judge for sentencing. It's a truly amazing opportunity to the students to see the judicial system in action, and for them to get introduced to the law before college even begins. My classroom is set up just like a courtroom, so I can simulate a courtroom every single lesson, week in, week out. Even more, we're working with the U.S. Attorney, the Wayne County Prosecutor's Office, Congressmen Conyers and Clarke, and the Detroit Police, to get students to all the public events they can, and be exposed to the many pathways of opportunities available to them.
This being said, it isn't an easy job at all. I have very little background in law, and I have to learn everything I'm teaching. I've had to go through quite a few law books to know the basics, especially when it comes to criminal law. I also have had no experience in trial procedures, so I've had to have students teach me how to organize a Mock Trial team. On top of that, I've had to write my own curriculum (although I do have a textbook), and make a lot of stuff up. It's a lot of work, I guess, but it really does sound like a lot of fun. I've also had some awesome guidance though - I have a great mentor teacher who has helped me with all the logistics, and has offered to go through all the stuff I write. She's been doing a lot of the planning, and has just been awesome. There also happens to be another TFA teacher who is teaching the same class in another school (we're the only two law teachers in all of Detroit Public Schools!), so it's nice to get more help, too.
Now to the fun part - the students. I have around 40-45 students in each class, putting my total to around 220 students, making it a challenge to manage and effectively invest in all of them. They're all compliant - they do the work I ask them to do, but will sometimes give me attitude about it. I've been told: "man you talk too much, just shut up," or "man this class is boring." One of my 12th graders in my law class even led a "Let's Go Home" chant. They'll try to talk over me, challenge me when I give directions, or complain about the work I'm giving them, but at the very least, they're still doing the work. A lot of them don't want to be there, so it's hard to blame them for their attitude. However, this just means I'll have to make the class more interesting in order to engage them a bit more. It's not easy, but that's the job I'm here to do. These kids have not received the best education, and I'm there to give them that. Coming in to 9th Grade, they know four 'states' (Detroit, Michigan, Canada and Mexico), Huron is one of the oceans of the world, and Tokyo is a country in Europe. Asia and Africa, also, are both countries. Needless to say, a lot of work needs to be done. After the first week, I now have a clearer picture of the work that does need to be done. I now know which students need more academic attention, and which students need a tighter grip. I've had to have some serious conversations with students who are disrupting the class, and after that, it's seemed to make things a bit better. My students still have a huge attitude, but at least they're working hard when I need them to. Again, the most important lesson here is consistency. When I implement the rules consistently and frequently, my students are reminded that I'm in control, and that's what I need. Yesterday, when one of my louder students was talking yesterday, another told him to shut up, because I'd yell at them. Now, that's exactly what I wanted! I knew I had to start off by being the mean, strict teacher, or else the students wouldn't respect me. Hopefully, this is the start of something great. Of course, a student did tell me "yo, Mr. Hui, you're cute..." That, hopefully, won't continue...
Lastly, I've been really blessed to have an amazing group of people around me. My administration has been amazing. My principal really cares about the students, and her high expectations just make sure that I'm doing my job right. The other teachers are all amazing - they truly care, and have done everything they can to get my used to my job. They have taken the initiative to introduce themselves, send me resources, and give me ideas on how to teach better. My fellow TFA corps members have been amazing friends and a wonderful support. One of them teaches at my school (and also goes to my church), and has been an ever-present support and source of advice. Everyone else in Detroit has been so supportive and have shown me how to teach well, and more importantly, how to truly love your students. They exemplify what sacrifice means, and I've looked up to them to learn how to give my all for my kids. The friendships I've built here just go to show how important a support system is, and how important it is to always have people around you that care about you and your work. Church, as always, has been amazing, and the group there has always prayed for our work and always stop me to talk ask me how I'm doing.
It's been an interesting week. Definitely a roller coaster ride, but I'm sure it's only going to get better. I'm absolutely exhausted when I get home - it's undoubtedly frustrating, and very hard. Having the kids not listen, challenge me and talk back at me for six hours a day is tiring, but when I get home, I remember that it's all going to be worth it at the end of the day. It's going to be a long, tiring road, but when I see my students truly be invested in their education and have that desire to learn, I'll know that the yelling (and getting yelled at) was all for a good reason. It's felt like so much longer than a week, and there are another 33 to go, but that means that I have 33 more weeks to make a difference. I'm getting there; slowly, but surely.
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Here are some pictures of my classroom:
Room 320: my History classroom
My Courtroom-Classroom
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
There's Nothing Like the D
It's been two weeks since I moved to Detroit, and what a great two weeks it's been. My roommate Matt and I moved into a two-bedroom townhome in a development about a mile east of downtown Detroit. We're literally a one-minute drive to downtown, I-75, and the Detroit River, so it's a great location, and we really are in the middle of everything. Most of the Teach for America folk also live around here, which makes the area so much more fun.
We've been planning for the upcoming year during our kickoff training these past two weeks; I've had to plan what exactly I'm going to in my classroom - what jobs to assign students, what prizes I'm going to give out, setting my credits/debits system, how to discipline my kids etc... Even though I still don't have a placement, I've still had to do the generic stuff, which has settled my nerves because I now have opportunities to practically apply what I learned during Institute. With all these plans in place, I can picture my classroom and imagine what it'll look like. This is a reminder though, that school is only two weeks away - I guess it's only hit just now.
After training and during weekends, however, we've gotten to explore the city and really enjoy what it has to offer. It's no Hong Kong, San Francisco, or New York, but Detroit has a unique charm unparalleled by any other city I've been to. It's definitely not the most convenient (barely any buses or cabs), or the most modern, but there are so many things that make Detroit the special place it is. Eastern Market is one of the largest farmers markets I've been to - everything is so fresh and cheap, and it literally has everything you'd want. Zingerman's even has a stall there. Then, you walk through Greektown, and experience two blocks of amazing Greek food and some of the most delicious pastries ever. After eating out, you then have a selection of a bunch of awesome bars. From a pub with live Irish music and dancing to a warehouse-turned-brewery that brews in house, and from a Billboard Top 40-type club to a classic midwestern bar that serves only Michigan beer, Detroit is often bustling with nightlife. After the bars, you complete the night by strolling down the river walk. Walking along the boardwalk, with the Detroit skyline on the left and the breeze from the river to the right, you just get that moment of serenity and peace, away from the crowds.
To people from big cities, that might not have sounded too interesting or exciting, but what Detroit has is a culture of artistic innovation, social awareness and an unwavering pride of anything Detroit. Walking through the many neighborhoods of Detroit, you'll see warehouses turned into lofts and studios, grand murals painted on buildings' walls, local artists and musicians trying to make it big, and many other things that make Detroit and up-and-coming hub of artistic creativity. Detroit's culture is also one that embodies social awareness; the people of Detroit actually care about others in their city. Around the city, what you'll see are community gardens, social justice clinics, children's camps, neighborhood events, food drives and much, much more. Here in Detroit, there is that sense of camaraderie and pride of being from the D. The people are some of the most genuine I've ever met - they will do anything to get to know you, and will do whatever it takes to get your back. They don't have an ulterior motive, except to be there for you and welcome you into the community. To be honest, I was worried about being one of the very few Asians in the city, and indeed, I'm probably the only one in my development. I was worried about being picked on, and not being welcomed into the community. On the contrary, my neighbors have taken time to introduce themselves and welcome me to their community, invited us over for grills, and even random people on the street will ask me how my morning was. I was wrong, and the people of Detroit really have shown a hospitality that I had not seen in any other city before. Before moving here, I had wanted to be back in the Bay Area, or be in Boston, D.C., Chicago, or any other 'big' city, but Detroit has met my expectations, and more. Detroit may not have the fancy, cosmopolitan parts of a 'big' city, but what it has is its unique culture, its pride, and the genuineness that all those other cities don't have. Despite the reputation that Detroit gets, people are still so proud of their city, and will do whatever it takes to bring it back to its heyday.
All this isn't to say that Detroit doesn't have its problems. Violence and crime are certainly problems that still plague the city. Last weekend, there were 16 unrelated shootings during the day in the city of Detroit. My friend had one of her car parts stolen from underneath her car at my parking lot; they even had the audacity to saw off a part of her tailpipe. The Detroit Police said that this was a frequent occurrence, and there wasn't really anything we could do to stop it. Just gotta pray, I guess. At home, we have to keep our blinds shut and keep our doors locked at all times, and I never, ever leave anything outside. Some people say that this is inconvenient, but I think it's just part of life. In any big city, crime is inevitably going to be a problem. Whether you're in New York City, London or Paris, your car could just as well be broken into, and you won't ever leave your doors unlocked anyway. There is always a price you pay for living in a city, and this is just one of them. But when I look at the rewards of being in Detroit and the excitement it will provide, these little things are worth it. These next three years are going to be absolutely transformational, and now that I think about it, I wouldn't want to be anywhere but Detroit.
We've been planning for the upcoming year during our kickoff training these past two weeks; I've had to plan what exactly I'm going to in my classroom - what jobs to assign students, what prizes I'm going to give out, setting my credits/debits system, how to discipline my kids etc... Even though I still don't have a placement, I've still had to do the generic stuff, which has settled my nerves because I now have opportunities to practically apply what I learned during Institute. With all these plans in place, I can picture my classroom and imagine what it'll look like. This is a reminder though, that school is only two weeks away - I guess it's only hit just now.
After training and during weekends, however, we've gotten to explore the city and really enjoy what it has to offer. It's no Hong Kong, San Francisco, or New York, but Detroit has a unique charm unparalleled by any other city I've been to. It's definitely not the most convenient (barely any buses or cabs), or the most modern, but there are so many things that make Detroit the special place it is. Eastern Market is one of the largest farmers markets I've been to - everything is so fresh and cheap, and it literally has everything you'd want. Zingerman's even has a stall there. Then, you walk through Greektown, and experience two blocks of amazing Greek food and some of the most delicious pastries ever. After eating out, you then have a selection of a bunch of awesome bars. From a pub with live Irish music and dancing to a warehouse-turned-brewery that brews in house, and from a Billboard Top 40-type club to a classic midwestern bar that serves only Michigan beer, Detroit is often bustling with nightlife. After the bars, you complete the night by strolling down the river walk. Walking along the boardwalk, with the Detroit skyline on the left and the breeze from the river to the right, you just get that moment of serenity and peace, away from the crowds.
To people from big cities, that might not have sounded too interesting or exciting, but what Detroit has is a culture of artistic innovation, social awareness and an unwavering pride of anything Detroit. Walking through the many neighborhoods of Detroit, you'll see warehouses turned into lofts and studios, grand murals painted on buildings' walls, local artists and musicians trying to make it big, and many other things that make Detroit and up-and-coming hub of artistic creativity. Detroit's culture is also one that embodies social awareness; the people of Detroit actually care about others in their city. Around the city, what you'll see are community gardens, social justice clinics, children's camps, neighborhood events, food drives and much, much more. Here in Detroit, there is that sense of camaraderie and pride of being from the D. The people are some of the most genuine I've ever met - they will do anything to get to know you, and will do whatever it takes to get your back. They don't have an ulterior motive, except to be there for you and welcome you into the community. To be honest, I was worried about being one of the very few Asians in the city, and indeed, I'm probably the only one in my development. I was worried about being picked on, and not being welcomed into the community. On the contrary, my neighbors have taken time to introduce themselves and welcome me to their community, invited us over for grills, and even random people on the street will ask me how my morning was. I was wrong, and the people of Detroit really have shown a hospitality that I had not seen in any other city before. Before moving here, I had wanted to be back in the Bay Area, or be in Boston, D.C., Chicago, or any other 'big' city, but Detroit has met my expectations, and more. Detroit may not have the fancy, cosmopolitan parts of a 'big' city, but what it has is its unique culture, its pride, and the genuineness that all those other cities don't have. Despite the reputation that Detroit gets, people are still so proud of their city, and will do whatever it takes to bring it back to its heyday.
All this isn't to say that Detroit doesn't have its problems. Violence and crime are certainly problems that still plague the city. Last weekend, there were 16 unrelated shootings during the day in the city of Detroit. My friend had one of her car parts stolen from underneath her car at my parking lot; they even had the audacity to saw off a part of her tailpipe. The Detroit Police said that this was a frequent occurrence, and there wasn't really anything we could do to stop it. Just gotta pray, I guess. At home, we have to keep our blinds shut and keep our doors locked at all times, and I never, ever leave anything outside. Some people say that this is inconvenient, but I think it's just part of life. In any big city, crime is inevitably going to be a problem. Whether you're in New York City, London or Paris, your car could just as well be broken into, and you won't ever leave your doors unlocked anyway. There is always a price you pay for living in a city, and this is just one of them. But when I look at the rewards of being in Detroit and the excitement it will provide, these little things are worth it. These next three years are going to be absolutely transformational, and now that I think about it, I wouldn't want to be anywhere but Detroit.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Institute Reflections
It’s been almost two weeks since Institute ended. It really does feel like it was so long ago; when I walked out of Bronx Prep and then out of St. John’s University, it was kind of surreal. It was surreal because it was only two weeks before that when I thought it would never end. It was surreal because Institute seemed like an eternity, but yet when it ended, it felt like it never really happened. We were on such a routine, and we had processed through so much that our minds were numb to thinking about what had just happened over the past five weeks. It didn’t seem like that long ago when I had to think twice about why I was doing this, and if I would actually make it through these crazy 19-hour days. I did, and I came out of those five weeks a better teacher, ready to do what I need to do in Detroit.
The last two weeks of Institute seem like a blur to me now. We had come up with such a routine that it didn’t really stress us out that much anymore. I made sure that my lesson plans and handouts for the next day were done by 5pm, so when I got off the bus from school, I would go straight to print and copy, just to skip the long lines later at night at the copy center. I finally learned how to fully script out a lesson plan, and how to ask students the right questions to push their understanding. I learned how to execute my lessons efficiently, so that my students would be interested and invested. I learned what I needed to do when I needed my students to work, when I needed to listen, when I needed to them work with each other, and when I needed them to speak up in class. Thinking back to the last two weeks, they just happened so fast. It seemed like I didn’t really get to go through everything I wanted to. I didn’t get to know my students well enough. It just wasn’t a long-enough summer. Indeed, as much as I didn’t enjoy the training part of Institute, my students at Bronx Prep were amazing, and they deserved so much more than the time we gave them.
I left Bronx Prep with a sense of excitement – for a new chapter of my life in Detroit – but also one of regret. I regretted not knowing my students as well as I could have; I didn’t know their stories, I didn’t know who they were as people. The fact that they were the class I used to student-teach and train made it feel like they were our guinea pigs. We tried and tested our methods on them, and when they didn’t work, they just sat there in confusion. One of my biggest regrets at Bronx Prep was that the four weeks we had with our students could have been so much more impactful than they were. One of my students was passionate about the subject and had worked diligently in class. He knew he wasn’t doing well with the material, so he asked to stay after school for tutoring, took the initiative to ask more questions, and did his homework to the best of his ability. Before the final exam, he was passing the class with a C average. Then came the final. The final exam, being the only assessment not written by myself, was also a gauge of teacher effectiveness. If the students did well, it probably showed that the teachers had effectively taught the students the objectives. If the students didn’t do well, questions are asked about the teacher and if they actually taught the students the material. As it turns out, all but one of my students passed it. He went from passing my class to failing it marginally, solely because of his performance on his final. This means he would probably have to repeat this class again next year, maybe even pushing his graduation back another year.
Seeing his test results broke my heart – not only for him but for myself. I had questions about my own ability to teach; if this test was meant to measure how well we taught them, does that mean I didn’t do a good job of it? Did he really fail because I wasn’t a good enough teacher? Thinking about it more though, I realized that this wasn’t the attitude I should be having. The question isn’t why I failed, but why we failed as a team. The question was where the disconnect was between my teaching and his learning, and identifying how I could improve my teaching so that my students will increase their own learning. I had to remember that we were a team, and it wasn’t only his fault, or my fault, but a collaborative effort. The question I had to address was how I could become a better teacher, and how I could help him become a better student. While this part of the past was unfortunate, and regrettable, we can only change what’s ahead of us. I came out of this knowing that I will need to change my delivery of information, that students need more individualized time than what I had given, and that I probably need to be a stricter grader, so that students know where they actually are with their learning.
I talked to him after class and told him I was proud of his work in class. I told him I was proud of him no matter what, because he showed he actually cared. He deserved it, and so did the rest of my class. They may have told me I was boring, fallen asleep, and texted each other in class, but these were nothing in comparison to what many other students did. My class showed me the respect that any teacher deserved, and they thoroughly deserve my appreciation for that. On my last day, my students gave me a signed t-shirt and card that expressed their own thanks for this summer. That, for me, was one of the most powerful moments in my teaching – I was reminded of why I did this again. I was reminded that no matter how hard it was going to be, it was for no one else but the kids.
Institute wasn’t easy. Not at all. But I did come out of it knowing how to be a better teacher. I was pushed to improve, pushed to make my kids improve, and pushed to do everything in my power to help my students succeed. I came out of Institute with a clear direction on where I want to (and don’t want to) take my class next year. I know my strengths and weaknesses, and can leverage that to make my classroom as effective as it can be next year. I may not have gotten the instruction that I wanted, but in some ways I got more than that; I learned some essential skills that would make me a more effective teacher. I may still not know how to be an effective English teacher, but I do know how to execute my lessons efficiently, and how to invest in my students to build genuine, lasting relationships with them. The challenges at Institute only made me more aware of the challenges we will be facing in Detroit. There are things I’m not going to agree with here, just as there were at Institute, but I have to remember that this isn’t about me. I have an entire community of amazing corps members in Detroit who have a real heart for the city and these students. They care so deeply about the education of these young men and women, and together, we will find ways to best serve our students. The heart that my fellow corps members have shown has been nothing short of transformational – they will work day and night to ensure that they teach effectively, and will love their students more than anything. We will work through these challenges together, share ideas with each other, build each other up, encourage each other, and most importantly, constantly remind each other of why we’re here, and who we’re here for. There are undoubtedly going to be challenges like the ones we faced at Institute, but these are means to get to the end of being a good teacher. So, if this is what I have to do to best serve my kids, that’s what I’ll do.
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