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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

Weeks Two and Three

In the blink of an eye, weeks two and three went by, just like that. It's been an extremely rewarding couple of weeks; full of ups and downs, but what came out of it was that I'm now much better prepared to teach, and my students are clearly learning. I've had one-on-one conversations with them, and it's obvious that they want to learn and they want to pass the class. These kids are still among the best behaved in the school, and I'm so blessed to have students who know how to sit down and just get down to work when they need to. They may not always be engaged, or do their homework, but at the very least they're clearly trying more and doing more than they were at the beginning of summer school, and that's definitely a plus. There's still a lot to do, and my students still aren't where they need to be academically, but they're getting there, and by the end of next week, I'm fully expecting that they will be there.


Lessons Learned


You can't let them get away with anything.
Even though my kids are extremely well-behaved for the most part, they do have occasionally streaks of rebelliousness. They still text in class, pass notes, fall asleep, and show me sass. I first thought that these were pretty minor things and didn't really need to address them, because they were otherwise pretty well-behaved. I was wrong, because they just take advantage of that and do more and more. I've had to discipline them for every single thing, even not sitting up straight, or for talking too loudly. It's true, that if you don't do this, you'll never get the respect of a teacher. They will just keep doing little things that add up to a lot of time wasted, and a lot of work not done. 


You have to get to know them as people.
They're not just your students, and you're not just their teacher, but you're an example in their life - a life coach in some ways. My students mentioned that even though I showed I cared about them, it was limited to the academic sphere. I never talked to them about their lives, or their weekends, or tried to know their likes and dislikes. They want their teachers to do this, because they want role models in their lives.


You can't just talk at them.
Last Thursday, I taught a class on tone and setting in poetry. I thought they were pretty hard concepts, so I modeled the methods and gave examples to the class. Of our one-hour period, I spoke for 45 minutes. I occasionally stopped for questions and to see if students understood what I was saying, but I just talked straight through and drew on the board for a while. The students were bored out of their minds, and had no interest in learning after that. I even decided not to give the class the test I had written for them, because it was clear from my teaching that they probably didn't learn anything. And it was totally my fault. I learned that you really can't just talk at them, but you have to let them try to do the work, play around with concepts, and then correct them after they do it. Learning is about trial and error, and it looks like both teachers and students need to learn that.


Students need to be actively engaged.
I had the students fill out an anonymous survey yesterday, and most of them indicated that the class was boring and uninteresting. It wasn't that they didn't want to learn, but it just wasn't fun and interactive enough for them. I learned that students have to be fully engaged - group activities, moving around the classroom, using multimedia and fun competitions are all ways of making sure students are focused and interested. If I just continued to give them worksheets and essays, they really won't want to be in the class too much.




Stories of Encouragement


"Miss, I am going to pass this class."
One of my students has been caught many times texting in class. After class one day, we spoke to him and told him that this was distracting, and he needs to focus or else he will fail this class. The next morning, he walks into first period, hands our second-period teacher his phone, and says "Miss, I am going to pass this class. Please take my phone every morning." It was just such an amazing turnaround from being rebellious to being excited to learn, and he even went beyond that to make sure he was learning.


"I know I can do this"
We've been trying to instill confidence in our students these past few weeks. Some of them don't believe they can pass the end-of-semester test, but we've been talking to them, and pushing them to do even better. This really showed, when yesterday, they said that they believe they can, and so they will. They believe that they are smart and capable, and this is exactly the kind of confidence and self-belief they need to go even further in their education.


Going above and beyond
After lecturing the class about not doing their homework, the next morning the kids went above and beyond what was expected of them. Their assigned homework was to write two short paragraphs on an essay topic. They showed up the next morning with two full pages of writing. They really do want to pass this class.


Getting to know the community
Yesterday, some of our students took us on a walk around the South Bronx. They showed us where they live, where they buy groceries, where they go to church, where they play ball etc... It was eye-opening and inspirational. They mentioned that their teachers never really make an effort to be part of their community, but there really is so much to see, and so much to learn. We learned about the gang conflicts between neighborhoods, which explains why some students in our classes refuse to talk to others - because where they're from and the building they live in prohibits that. It's heartbreaking, and no one's really doing anything about it. If students are our future, why can't teachers help shape the future by shaping our students' understanding of their neighborhood, and to foster reconciliation? We saw the communities the kids lived in, and we really got to understood the context from which they are coming. We heard stories of hardship, found out that some of our students take an hour and a half to commute to school, and got to know what they had to deal with at home and in their communities. It really was eye-opening, and now that we know them on a much more personal level, we're not only motivated to help them as people, but to be a part of the change in the community.

Diversity

Over the past few weeks, and indeed years, we've talked a lot about diversity. Diversity works, and diversity is important in a world that is increasingly interconnected, and especially in a country that is still bearing the scars of discrimination and racial injustice. However, there are productive ways to talk about diversity, and ways that merely perpetuate existing problems. I don't think there are right or wrong ways, but there are certainly more, or less effective methods, at least in my eyes.


Diversity is the celebration of different identities; the embrace of identities different from your own, and a mutual respect for people who have a different worldview than you do. Diversity is how we celebrate the many races, ethnicities, nationalities, religions, gender identities, sexual orientations and other identities shared by those around the world. When done right, the celebration of cultures is the foundation of a free society, but when done wrong, it perpetuates stereotypes, reinforces prejudices, and often makes assumptions when that is exactly what we are trying to eliminate. 


Diversity should be an open channel of frank and honest conversation between peoples of different identities, where they can respect each other through their differences, and learn to celebrate each other's identities. It should be a mutual effort, where ideas and beliefs are shared, and groups work together to achieve a mutual understanding. However, diversity has become something led by those in the majority who feel guilty for who they are. They try to disprove stereotypes, but if you try to do it without involving minorities, all you do sometimes is perpetuate them. As an Asian-American, here's what I have to say: there really is no need to feel guilty. Sometimes, diversity sessions involve some serious stereotyping, and in order to make a point, stereotypes are reinforced, and members of the majority culture are made to feel guilty for being who they are. We're really not angry at people for who they are - it's what they do with their identity that can cause discrimination. If you respect those who are different from you, it doesn't matter  if your grandfather's grandfather was a member of the KKK. It doesn't affect who you are. Sometimes, it's precisely this guilt that makes conversations about diversity so much harder; White males make other White males feel bad, causing them to be insecure about their identities, and in order to address racial and cultural differences, stereotypes are brought up, but are never addressed correctly. The unfortunate result, therefore, is that stereotypes are reinforced, but never explained. Conversations about diversity cannot happen because of guilt; they lead to an exaggeration of differences and misrepresentation of what the other culture is actually like. This often leads to assumptions being made about others' assumptions; because of this insecurity, people assume the worst of people when they make certain comments, and the immediate reaction is that someone is a racist. If diversity is about eliminating assumptions, we have to assume the best in people. Diversity sessions, therefore, cannot be about making assumptions about others' racial and gender stereotypes; it's not about making people feel bad, but opening channels of communication that had otherwise not existed. When we talk about diversity, we should do it to appreciate our differences, and learn about others, but not to emphasize them. 


One thing people forget sometimes, is that Americans from different backgrounds still share one common identity - the identity of an American. Whether you're Asian-American, White, African-American or Latino American, you still share the love for your country. During diversity sessions, however, the commonalities are often neglected, and differences are emphasized. We learn about how we are all different, and phrases like "we respect each other despite our differences" and "we treasure how we are all so different" are thrown out there. However, one phrase I never hear is "we may be different in many ways, but we do want to celebrate what we have in common." Celebrating diversity is great, and necessary, but if that's all we talk about, minorities are constantly reminded that they are not the same, and the implication of that is that they are not "American." 


Diversity is something we should celebrate in this country, and after a long history of hate and discrimination, it's about time we talked about it. But we must ensure that we talk about it in a way that is productive and sensitive. If we are to truly understand our differences, let's be truly open and honest; diversity sessions can't just be PC anymore - because people just say what others want to hear - but they should be about clarifying questions, misunderstandings, and honest conversations based on respect and humility. As a minority, I don't need to be constantly reminded that I'm different, but that my friends of different races and identities still share things in common. We don't need people to feel guilty, and if you're White, you should be proud of your heritage and your identity, instead of having to hide your culture because it's not Asian or Latin American. We want to learn about your heritage as a German American, Italian American, or whatever. Let's continue where we left off, and remember that diversity is a conversation that involves everyone, and celebrating everyone for everything they are.

Week One

So, after my first week of teaching 11th Grade English at Bronx Prep, my kids are still debating how to pronounce my last name. I hear them trying to ask me a question, but they usually have to spend 30 seconds asking each other what my name actually is. From day to day, it varies from Mr. Way, Mr. Huwai, Mr. Who?, Mr. Wee... It's pretty funny, and yes, my kids are pretty awesome.


My first day of teaching - ever - was a horrible mess. The school assigned us to teach the wrong period, so my students were sitting in the classroom for half an hour before someone came and got me and told me that they had given me the wrong class assignment. I had to run up to my classroom and immediately begin my lesson. Needless to say, it was a mess. I didn't really know what I was saying, and all I did was keep giving my kids worksheets to complete. I had totally forgotten that I never really introduced them to the material, or told them why we were doing the work. They probably walked out of that classroom lost and bewildered, unsure of what they just went through (at least that's what my advisor told me). That wasn't a good start, and I clearly didn't leave a good first impression of myself with my students. But the second day came, and the third day came, and soon enough, I was getting into the rhythm of teaching these kids reading comprehension. 


The next day, my lesson was much better - the kids knew what we were doing, and they followed along, and actually learned something! Now, for a teacher, that really is the first step - if you teach them a whole bunch of stuff, make it really fun and all, but they don't learn anything, you're not really doing much. I was told I lacked energy and passion for my teaching, that I didn't really convey my love for literature. I should've told my advisor that yes - I really didn't have much of a love for literature, but I didn't, so I just told them how much I loved the text, how much it meant to me, and blah blah blah. Way to use those bullshitting techniques I learned from college. To make up for my lack of energy at 8 in the morning, I played videos for the kids and used song lyrics to demonstrate key ideas. Bruno Mars, Eminem, Will Smith, Sandra Bullock and a bunch of other people starred in my multimedia presentations as I taught my kids how to make inferences, write about themes, and all that. I have no creativity, so I let other people do it for me. Thanks YouTube. 


By the end of my first week of teaching, however, I feel at home in front of the kids. Someone told me that teaching is a performance every single day - you're front and center in front of a restless audience, and you need to deliver a perfect performance every single time, or else your kids pick up on it. It's so true - there really is a lot of pressure as you step up in front of that class and teach them something new. I'm scared of screwing up, of saying the wrong things, of teaching them concepts the wrong way, but in the end, you just learn to deal with it. As I walked into the classroom every morning this week, I did feel the pressure, and I did feel how all the attention was on me - I had to do well, and could not be faultless, I thought. However, I learned that it's not about delivering a 'perfect performance,' but engaging your kids in such a way that if you screw up, you have the respect to work through that, and of course, you also have the ability to talk your way out of it. Now, it really does feel right. I love being in front of those kids, and I'm not worried about screwing up, because that really is just part of teaching sometimes. I love being up there, and after the hell that was the first day of class, I'm getting into it, and it's pretty awesome. I have been blessed, too, that I have extremely well-behaved kids. I came in worried about dealing with behavior problems, but if the worst is falling asleep in class, things really aren't too bad, especially because other corps members have had fist fights and pepper spray incidents in classrooms. So, I'll just say that I've been really blessed with a bunch of great students, making my first week of teaching much easier than it really could have been. There's still a long way to go - my students are still kind of bored, they barely care about their homework, and they fall asleep in class - but it takes time, and I'll learn.   I'll learn to be a more interesting teacher, to make them laugh (I tried a few times, and they didn't dig it), and to really convey to them that I care. At some point, I guess, I'll figure it out.


The training part still involves, for the most part, a lot of sharing and reflections. I love teaching, I love my kids, and I love the classroom, but coming out of my classroom at 11am and going to training right afterwards isn't exactly the most exhilarating thing ever. Some of it is really useful - how to manage behavior, how to deliver a good lesson plan - but some of it really is a waste of time. We're all motivated, so we don't need motivational reflection sessions. We're all capable people, so we really don't need time to peer-edit our lesson plans. Also, we're all working 20 hour-days, so why spend an hour on some days reading our lesson plans to people when we could be actually planning a lesson? After talking to a bunch of Teach for America corps members from around the country, old and new, I think our corps has come to a conclusion - that even though training may be useless at times, it will help us someday, and most importantly, it gets us to where we want to be - to teach our kids as fully certified teachers. So, I guess it's gotta be done, if only for the most important thing to us right now - the students.


The unexplainable mess that is training aside, some of the people I've met here are truly amazing. They really embody what service and sacrifice is all about, and they go so far beyond what is expected of them for their kids. Some wake up before 5am to go to Dunkin' Donuts to buy breakfast for the kids to incentivize them to get to school early, some spend hours on end perfecting posters to aid kids' visual learning, some dress themselves up in aluminum foil to demonstrate the FOIL method in Math, some call their kids at home to give them homework guidance, and many others spend hours personalizing every lesson to every student, so that all of them can learn in their different ways. I've been inspired, no doubt. I didn't even think of doing some of the things people are doing; hardly had I imagined some of the sacrifices people are making, but this is what teaching really is all about. I've had to learn how to make these sacrifices, and while I can do the bare minimum to get by, it really isn't enough, and I've seen that through the people around me. They've inspired me to work even harder, to sleep even less, because our kids deserve our very best. I'm not just trying to be cheesy, but it really is true. Our actions will inevitably impact someone else's life here. It's a life, and you really don't mess with that. 


Today, I received a letter in the corps member mail. It was a letter from a public school student in Detroit. She told me why she was so excited for me to come to Detroit, how teachers have impacted her life, and how her school so desperately needs teachers who care. It was the broken language, misspelled words, and the barely legible writing that got to me - she could barely write, but she spent all this time to write letters, showing how much she cares, and how great the need is. This past week, walking into my classroom and seeing my kids, and hearing in person the stories of my students and students in Detroit was more inspiring and motivating than any statistic, video, or motivational speech I heard. All through training, we talked about why educational inequality needed to be fixed, and we were pumped up to change the status quo, but it was only this week that I realized this: nothing came even close to the excitement I had for the future when I met my kids. Their lives and stories speak more than any statistic, speech or video will, and I'm constantly reminded that despite getting 5 hours of sleep a night, it's not about us anymore. It's so much more than that.

We Teach for the D

We just finished our first week of training at the Teach for America Institute in New York City. Next week, I'm going to begin teaching 11th Grade English at the Bronx Preparatory Charter School. It's crazy to think that in three days, I'm going to be in front of fifteen to twenty students as a teacher for the first time. As I I look back to this past week of training and everything that's happened, I don't think I've had that great - and short - of a roller-coaster ride in a while. To be honest, some parts of training are totally unnecessary - we keep talking about our vision, why we're in the corps, why our education system sucks, how we're feeling about social injustice etc... Our responses at all of those sessions were the same: of course we see the injustice, of course we're angry, of course we want to change this. If we didn't know this, we wouldn't be here. Somehow, I guess, they still wanted to talk a LOT before we put anything into action. Anyway, this made me come out of the first two days of training pissed and groggy. We sat indoors from 6 am to 5 pm, listening to session after session about vision-casting, the importance of diversity (yay Intervarsity!) and the realities of injustice, while school was starting in five days, and we hadn't even started planning yet. The printing and coping systems weren't working, we were getting five hours of sleep, we didn't know what was going on in our schools, our advisors didn't show up, and it went on and on and on. Nothing was going right during the first two days, and they sucked.


After those two days though, I sat down and reflected. I remembered the bigger picture for which we were working toward; I remembered that this isn't about me, but about our kids. I realized that these little problems were simply insignificant compared to the problems our students had to deal with, and they just weren't worth complaining about. I also realized the importance of some of the sessions that we thought were annoying and useless; we needed to learn how to teach in a diverse school, we needed to learn how to deal with parents from different cultural backgrounds, and yes, we needed to talk about our vision because this was the only thing that was pushing us forward. I also realized that there was a reason we weren't planning for school - it was because they wanted us to get used to the tight timeframe, and make us work under the kind of pressure that we would be under as teachers. I remembered again that this job wasn't going to be easy, and if you really do want to make difference, you have to work for it. If this means waking up at 5 every morning, not having time to call home, and having barely any free time, so be it. You just gotta suck it up. I mean, there are still a lot of things that aren't going smoothly here, and days usually do end with frustration, but I just have to remember that this isn't about us. At many points in our lives, things are going to go off-track, and plans are going to be turned upside down, but instead of complaining, we just gotta deal with it. This is our responsibility to our students - that we will work relentlessly, and if this is what it's going to take to bring my student from 1% to passing her exam at 70%, so be it. It's part of the job.


Thinking back now, the logistical screw-ups, the long, tiring sessions and the lack of sleep are just little bits of God's plan. Despite things not running smoothly, they did end up working out by the deadline. Despite the long sessions, we were able to learn (some) valuable lessons, and we were still able to stay awake for most of the day. I'm stronger, not weaker, because of institute. I've learned to persevere more than I ever have, and I've solidified my desire and commitment to why I am teaching. This wasn't easy, but God made it hard - through Teach for America - so that I would learn to be a more effective servant for Him, and for my students. These are challenges that are inevitable in life, but it's God who can refocus you to the bigger picture - to the very reason for why you are doing what you are - and remind you that in the end, everything is worth it.

As I was writing my lesson plan for the first few days of class, I began to realize more and more the magnitude of the work ahead of us. For me, I finally realized how much was at stake; my students are taking the New York Regents Exam in August, and if they fail their English exam, they will have to repeat the year (not to mention how it would affect their entry to college). As I was grading their practice exams, I found out that one student got a 1%, while another was at 24%. It hit me then - that this isn't only about my training; it isn't about my month of teaching, but it's about a lifetime of learning ahead of these students that we may either speed up, or stall. Going back to my lesson plan, then, I realized how much work this was going to be, and the responsibility that we have to each and every one of our students. Instead of just b.s.ing my way through the lesson plan, I reminded myself of my responsibility, and went back and added every detail possible, and adapted it to their needs, because this wasn't only about me getting certified, but about these kids learning. They're not our guinea pigs; they're real people, and us screwing up would lead to real consequences. It's a lot, but with God's help, with faith, and an unwavering perseverance, we're going to get there, because as we say here, We Teach for the D.