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.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
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.
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.
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