It comes down to reality, it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide

Blog – Semester Reflections

As anyone who has been reading my blog could probably guess, it’s a little hard right now for me to pull back from my season with the (eagles), but I’ll try.

My semester has nosedived as of late. I’ve lost energy motivation and creativity. My mom suspects that I’m depressed, but I can’t believe that. I am not a very good teacher. My management is terrible, my lesson planning unoriginal, boring, and not especially helpful for my students. It certainly isn’t research based, or anything else that it should be,

I hate the block schedule. With a passion. Ben told me that in two years as a teacher, he never did any group work. While in a lot of ways I wouldn’t want to run my classroom as Ben says he ran his, but I would have liked to go away with groupwork, at least for the first year. 98 minutes means that I have to do that crap, everyday. I have to do something, because it’s impossible to lecture, do guided practice, and then some individual work for ninety-eight minutes, straight. It’s impossible to do anything for 98 minutes. I’m starting to think it’s impossible to remain sane for 98 minutes.

I was three times the teacher I am now before I started coaching. That said, though, I was probably having less total impact on students then. I would love to just coach and work at Dollar General or something. Or coach and tutor – that would be perfect. Not that I am a very good coach either; I’ve been lucky enough to inherit a group of boys who have been ready to explode on the scene for a year or two, but have just lacked a little direction and intensity, which I have tried to give them. They are amazing, and they make me believe that things can be ok.

But back to being a teacher. My kids hate me, and hate my class, even my good kids, because I don’t keep the bad kids under control. They wouldn’t even be bad, if I had some clearer expectations for them. Well, some of them would be bad. But most of the kids that consistently give me trouble are FINE in other people’s classes. FINE. They only act up in my class because I let them get away with it. The worst part is, even worse than the fact that they drive me crazy, is that they irritate the kids who actually want to learn, who, I think, might actually make up half of my students. One student even drew a cartoon of me throwing a desk at and cursing out the disruptive girls my first block. “Anybody else wanna F- wit da real MR. G? Anybody? Well shut the F – up!”

Dan says I ought to blog about our recent stop at the doublequick. We’re headed up to Oxford, it’s 11:21 PM on a Friday, and this have become somewhat of a ritual with us, a pilgrimage, We’ve left later, but of all the Oxford weekends, I think we’ve only once arrived in the hotel before midnight, We always stop at the same doublequick, somehow, and stock up on Rockstars. Dan likes the purple fruity one, while I prefer the mango one in the orange can. I had never experienced the wonder of such beverages until these Friday night drives made them indispensable, along with the snickers, hostess cupcakes, and other delectables that contribute to Mississippi being the fattest state in the union.
There really has been a magic to these rides. How could there not be, when we spend our time alternating between states of half-conciousness and chemically induced super-consciousness. After an extraordinarily exhausting week of teaching – isn’t every week of teaching extraordinarily exhausting - the last thing I tend to need is this drive, but it is somehow refreshing in it’s insanity. By the time we drive through the kudzu-covered holly springs state forest, bizarrely nowhere near holly springs, I’m usually starting to see things on the side of the road that aren’t there. The night that we got caught in the thunderstorm was a night to remember as well – driving 45 mph and still barely able to see ten feet in front of me. Or the trip up with Ward, when we somehow missed a turn and found ourselves altogether too close to Memphis.

I’ve got to decide whether to go to class tomorrow or to skip and go be a coach. I’ve almost certainly decided to skip class. I’ve decided the difference between an A and a B is pretty minimal – I’m already out of the running for the award for teachercorps GPA, or will be after tomorrow’s lack of presentation in my methods class, so WTF, right? Besides that, tonight’s loss was really hard to stomach, and I’d hate to abandon my kids after that. They are knocking on the door, so close to achieving something. Achieving something means winning, or even drawing a single game. They’ve lost every game for the past 3 years. Every single game. We’ve no taken the lead in two matches, and lost both 3-2. I must be doing something wrong as a coach, because we can’t seem to hold a lead. We get too excited by the prospect of winning – I am as guilty of this as every one of my players. I love the kids so much, and I really need to lead them to a victory – just one.

But I was supposed to be writing a semester review? A semester evaluation? What was it called? A semester reflection. Goodbye yellow brick road? No. This is harder than I ever thought, and I need some help. I am not doing a good job. I need some inspiration. My kids are ready to revolt, and in a lot of ways, I don’t blame them – I’d probably be ready to revolt too, if I were my own student. At the same time, though, I don’t know that I could try any harder, if that is some kind of consolation. All we need is just a little patience. I need to start off the next semester as a hard-ass, especially in my algebra II class, which will be a brand new group of kids. Hard ass. If I say it enough, maybe I’ll believe it. Firm expectations. A good plan. Better procedures. Better lesson planning. Everything needs to be better, but I don’t think things could get much worse, so that’s something. The only thing that shouldn’t change is the soccer team. And even that could use a little boost in the victories column.

Go to church on three

After practice on Monday, my captain, D.S., led the team in a prayer after three mumbled repetitions of "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" by the whole team. I can't recall the words he used, but he gave thanks for all of us being out there, asked that we stay safe and avoid injuries, and closed with "let us pray, lord, that we come away with a victory tomorrow." A commnal "amen" followed. Then, he said, jokingly, that the reason we haven't won yet is because no one but he and big B.W. ever lead the prayer. Duke volunteered to give the game prayer the next day, and we closed with a cheer. Team on three. No, Go to church on three.

The next night, Duke, true to his word, gave the prayer. It was good, a little more elequent than the usual prayer, but I could tell he was nervous. Afterwards, the boys chided him "you wrote that one down" but they all appreciated his effort.

I'm not a religious guy, in any way, and before the season started, I was nervous about how I might react to prayer on the field. But since the guys haven't asked me to lead one yet, I have had no problem with it whatsoever. In fact, I have begun to enjoy the prayers. They bring out a humble side of my players that I love to see.

The rest of their pregame rituals are a riot as well. Their stretchs, for example.
Captains: "Thousand"
Team: "One!"
Captains: "Thousand"
Team: "Two!"
....
Captains "Thousand!"
Team: "Nine!"
Captains "Big thow" (Beat thou) I really have no idea what they say here.
Team: "Ten!"

Then, there are the jumping jacks.
Captains (Running around the inside of the circle): Give me twoooo!!!!
Team: Twoooooo!
Captains:Give me twoooo!!!!
Team: Twoooooo!
Captains: Sets!!
Team: Sets!!!
Captains: Sets!!
Team: Sets!!!
Captains: GeeDoublyouAichEss. Everybody ready!
Team: Ready!
Captains: Position. Exercise.
Team: Gee. Dubleya. Aich. Gee dubleya aich hornets.
Team: Gee.
Captains: Whooo.
Team: Dublya.
Captains: Whoooo.
Team: Gee dubleya aich hornets.

Us: 0; Them: 4

Absolutely ridiculous night. I had one player just not show up, another player tell me he didn't feel like playing, and my assistant coach mysteriously dissapeared before kickoff - word is that she quit. We then went on to give up two exceedingly sloppy goals first half - a throw in that we deflected into our own net, and a corner that just sailed, untouched, into the top corner. Chasing the game in the second half, we gave up another pair of goals, but nothing to be ashamed of - especially without two of our best players.

M.W. shows up, late, just before kickoff. I tell him, after I send the team out on the pitch, to go get warmed up. "I'm already warmed up", he says, and just sits there. Fine. Ten minutes later, I tell M.W. to get up and get ready to go in.

I don't feel like playing.

What?

I don't feel like playing.

You don't feel like playing!? Ok. Give me my shirt, my shorts, my socks, and go the f- home.

"You didn't have to cuss me out" he says as he stalks off. Five minutes later, a conversation with the uncle of M.W. I explained the situation to him, very politely.

But did you curse at him? he asks.

Yes sir, I did, and I apologize for that.

I understand the situation, but you don't need to be cussing people out. If you want to cuss people out, you might as well just quit and let somebody else do this job. (I'm paraphrasing here - at the time, I was trying to coach a game and figure out why my assistant had mysteriously quit.)

I have no idea what to do about M.W. This is not the first problem I have had with him. He is often late, and he simply does not like me; that much is obvious. He's so moody - that's what drives me crazy about all these kids. He can be a fabulous player, full of energy, bombing up and down the sidelines. He is lazy though, and lacks the discipline for his defensive duties. He started the season at sweeper, and lasted all of three minutes of the first game before I had to throw D. P. on for him. I was so unimpressed that I actually lifted D.P. off the bench and told him to get M.W. the f out of there. That, I think, may have been my first mistake. Thinking back on it, although I did not lay into him at the time, I'm sure his teammates let him know the circumstances regarding his substitution.

We are losing numbers fast now. My vice-captain center-midfielder, the one who tackles hard and really gets stuck in, never showed up tonight. No call. No information from the rest of the team, just never showed up. N.B., my left back who has been coming along so fabulously, missed the first half because of a computer class he is taking. He also appears to have broken his nose at the weekend, but I played him through the second half anyway.

C.B., my keeper, took a severe beating tonight. Kicked in the face, the ribs, and the hands. I need to have a chat with the next set of officials before the game even starts, because he can't keep taking hits like this. If talking to the officials doesn't make a difference, then I need to start instructing him and the defenders around him to play a little different. As the old saying goes, if the ref won't protect him, he'll have to protect himself.

My apologies for the quality of this post. Too many things going through my mind. Too many things left to do tonight. Way too many things to do tomorrow.

Us: 2; Them: 3

Big Delta 2, Little Catholic 3

At Friday's practice after our morale-boosting 6-1 loss to Big Catholic the day before, I noticed my players looked a bit too happy. I told them, if you're proud of yesterday's game, go home now. We lost 6-1, and that is nothing to be proud of. Yes, we made some big improvements, and yes, we scored a goal, but if you all are happy losing 6-1, go home. We need to move on.

I thought it might have been a little harsh, but they responded well during practice. It was report card day, which meant more running than usual for a practice sandwiched between two games, but it was good for them. Saturday's game showed me even better how well they had responded.

We arrived late for the game, courtesy of a bus that was governed at 55 mph, and barely had time to get a stretch in betfore kickoff. I stuck with essentially the same lineup that started the Big Catholic game, but I put F. on as my centerback. We conceded a goal from a corner, a neat little nearpost header, but we were taking the game to them in midfield, and equalized almost straight away. D.J. used his cornerback speed to get in behind the defense and take the ball past the onrushing keeper, whom he then leapt over to slot the ball into an empty net.

At that point, I knew we really had a chance to take something out of the game, but I knew we'd have to score again. Seeing out the next 60 minutes without conceding was never very likely for us, so I encouraged us to be more attack-minded after the interval. M.W. scored a neat goal as a marauding right midfielder, and his control and drive made our attacks down that flank a sporadic threat, but often left us open to counter attacks in the back. We still had 30 minutes to play when we took the lead, and I knew we couldn't defend in our own half that long, but we also don't quite have the technical skill to play a controlled, passing game, so I urged my players to keep the tempo up, to keep playing our game, and to stay tough. At this point, though, we were running out of energy, and they equalized about 15 minutes from time. I don't even remember how they scored, but at that point, my only thought was to try to preserve the draw. We switched to a 4-5-1, with even my lone striker doing more defending than anything else, and we held them off bravely. D.S., my sweeper, headed off the line after my keeper made a rare blunder on an afternoon when he drew the praise of even the opposing coaches and referees. We were forced to hack another ball off the line a few minutes later, before my keeper went down under a heavy challange with less than two minutes remaining, and the referees signalled to me that we had blood on the field. As I trotted out there with the med kit, I shouted instructions to F. to warm up.
C. B. had, as I had so often worried about, taken a solid shot to the face and not only did his glasses cut into his nose but he had managed to bust open his lip and was spitting blood. The officials told me that he could continue, but he had to get a new pair of gloves, since he had bled all over these. Now, these were brand new gloves that we had just given C.B. that morning, and I was sure that in his mind, he was attributing at least some part of his inspired play to those gloves. His other gloves, it turns out, were on the bus, and as I was about to tell him to just play with his bare hands, my assisstant arrived with an ingenious solution.
"Gimme that peroxide out of the med kit" she said and then proceeded to douse the gloves, draining the entire bottle on them while vigorously rubbing them with cotton balls. "Here" she said, handing them to me "Dry these on your pants." And to the officials, smiling "That oughta work just fine now." They agreed, and we commenced to play out those final two minutes. The clock on the scoreboard had run out, and just as I was sure we had made it through, we failed to clear and they struck a shot from just inside the 18 that flew past everyone and into the roof of the net. Before most of my players could even begin to react, the final whistle blew, and we collapsed.
My strongest players were in tears. After losing every game for three years, we had come so close to at least salvaging a draw. It was all I could do to keep my own eyes dry, watching their immense effort slip away without reward. I had no speech for after this game. I told my D.S., my sweeper and captain, as he boarded the bus, that we have a long season. We stayed in this game until the very end, and we'll stay in this season until the very end. He barely responded, and I decided to wait with any kind of peptalk until after the visit to McDonald's. The mood as we entered the golden arches was still glum. As I went from player to player, checking for any injuries I might have missed, I asked little B.W. (there are two B.W.'s of very different sizes) if anything was hurting. "Just my heart Coach" he responed. But by the time we left, D.S.'s womanizing antics and seven dollars worth of heart attack food had significantly improved the team's collective mood. Back on the bus, D.S. gave the speech that I was still struggling to find the words for, and for that, I'm very thankful.

In the school parking lot, as we were all dispersing, he came up to me and said "I know we lost, coach, but even though we lost, it feels like we won. I know, this game shows, that we can compete with anyone now."

My next step is a still a little unclear. We have big, division games coming up this week, against schools that are better than any we have yet played. But I am starting to get the impression that we can, in fact, compete with anyone. I'm not sure how to interpret this game for the team, but I feel like I can't call it a success, because that would imply we aren't good enough to win games. At the same time, though, this may be the closest we come all season to a victory, and if it is, we should celebrate it. However, I simply can't allow myself to believe that, and I can't allow my players to believe that. We will win a game this year. Hopefully, that will start on Tuesday, 7 PM, at home, in our first division game.

**It's getting tiresome not using real names in this blog. I slipped up last week and mentioned a few, but I was able to go back and change them. Not being able to use the name of my school, or even our mascot, makes game descriptions especially difficult. From now on, my school will be known as Big Delta High School, and our fictional mascot will be the eagles.

I've never lost like that before

I have realized that teaching brings out the manic depressive in all of us. Especially in me. Yesterday treated me to an especially imbalanced emotional experience. After I had heard the news that K- dropped out, I admit I basically ghosted through the rest of the day. I didn't put nearly the energy I should have into my classes, and since I didn't have any lesson plans, it wasn't pretty, to say the least. School, in a nutshell, was terrible. I was ready to go home and sleep, but I could not, because we were scheduled to host the Catholic school from across town at 7.

I was hoping the game would get rained out and that was a distinct possibility. The thunderhead that I had watched building up since four finally broke on us right before the girls' game. Everyone scattered, but as I was trying to navigate the parking lot in the rain, trying to find the refs, I realized I really wanted to play this game. The weather, in my opinion, could not have been better, because there is nothing more fun than mucking around a soccer pitch against your biggest rivals. Besides, they are quite a bit more skilled than us, and a little rain makes skill take a back seat to motivation, which we have in abundance.

By the time we kicked off, the storm had mostly rained itself out. We lost our first three games by a combined score of 22-0, so I knew that something had to give. I pulled my most skilled player back from central mid to sweeper, sent my old sweeper up from, and put a pair of hustling players on the wings to harry and harrass the opponents and and generally make a nuisance of themselves. It worked to a T. My wingers scrapped like their lives depended on it, my sweeper was composed and assured, and my strikers, well, they still never looked like conjuring up much of anything, but they were more than willing to run. And C -, my goalkeeper, who gave up last game after he shipped 7 of the 9 we conceded, was fantastic. I guess our trip to Frosty's after that debacle for floats and burgers was a success, because he bounced back impressively.

It could have all gone wrong as early as the third minute, when I found myself out on the field, shouting as much as my hoarseness allowed. C- had come out to make a save and, once he had the ball, been caught by an opposing forward in the jaw. The ball got knocked loose in the process, and rolled into the back of the net. When my keeper didn't get up, I was on the field, and was amazed to hear the referree tell me that the goal stood. Luckily for both of us, his linesman had run out to the pitch to indicate the foul, and we were spared the kind of early blow that we have suffered in every game to date.

In fact, we went twelve full minutes from the kickoff without conceding, which is certainly a record for us this year. Not only did we not concede, but we managed to make passes and runs and get into dangerous positions in the front third. We still didn't look like much of a threat to put the ball in the back of the net, but we were steamrolling them in midfield.

Inevitably, we gave up a goal of the absolute lowest quality. On a goal kick, my keeper sent the ball straight to an opponent, who took two touches and then drilled it back past him. Less then ten minutes later they scored a carbon copy of that goal, and sandwitched between them, they scored a header off a corner kick. Three - nil. They would score two more goals before the half was out, one decent, and one keeper error, but we had a strong spell of pressure before the whistle, and hustled into the locker room feeling pretty good about ourselves.

I actually gave a good halftime talk. No stopping, no searching for words. No "Ok?... Ok?..." The other team was scared of us, and we knew it. We smelt blood, and we were ready to go for it.

Back out of the field, the rain had picked up again. We looked determined and full of energy, and we were defending bravely and getting upfield whenever we could. Then, from the right flank, they sent in a cross. My keeper punched clear (actually, it was more of a slap - something to work on), and then leaped up to stop the next shot, making a brilliant double save, before the ball popped up and my center back contrived to catch it with both hands. He was, of course, horrified, as we all were, but at five-nothing, it wasn't going to change the game, until the PK went off the crossbar. That gave us a lot of confidence, and we kept pushing forward. We created one or two chances. Their keeper touched the ball for something other than a goal-kick. They did manage to slip another one by us somehow, but it didn't deflate us, and we kept on pushing. Five minutes from time, there was a scuffle on the left of their 18, and I saw a lofted shot heading towards the goal -somehow it crossed the line, and there was instant chaos. I heard five guesses as to the goalscorer, until it came out that K- H- had somehow gotten a boot on it. K- H-, who I had reprimanded the day before for still kicking with his toe. K- H-, who I had forgotten was on the field and almost surely would have pulled had I remembered. Sometimes, things just work out.

After our 9-0 drubbing on Tuesday, C-had said to me "You don't like losing, do you Co' "

"No," I replied. "I don't. I never have lost like this before."

But I don't mind loosing like we lost last night. I've never lost like that before.

Be Cool, Stay in School

Sometimes, I think it is important to examine things that we have previously taken on faith, and ask ourselves what reasons, what arguments, have convinced us to believe these things in the first place. Often, what seems ironclad logic when in our formative years can turn out to be circular or simply unreasonable.

Today, near the end of my first block, I heard a knock on the door. I had already had several "guests" this morning, and I was in no mood for another. When K- thrust his slip and textbook towards me, my heart sank. I left my class to shout themselves into oblivion and litter my room with balled up papers, and stepped out into the hall with him. He handed me his withdrawl slip, with GED scrawled along the bottom and his textbook, in immaculate condition. It had probably never been opened. I asked him if he'd thought it through. I took his hand, wished him luck, and gave him my number, telling me, if he ever needed any help with that GED, or if he ever needed anything at all, to please call me. You know you can call me anytime K-. I know Mr. G.

So that brings me to a paradox. K- was a huge discipline problem nearly every single day he was in my class, although such days had become increasingly rare. If he wasn't sleeping, he was entertaining. He is quite intelligent, but like so many of my students, he lacks that self-starting drive, he cannot begin an exercise unless he is sure of all the steps that he needs to follow to get to the end. He doesn't try something he doesn't know how to do, and because he missed so many days, he never really knew how to do anything. Except graph lines in slope intercept form. He did that better than everyone else - in fact, I let him teach the class one day.

But what is school going to do for K-? Or R-? There are some children who just don't seem to be cut out for school. I know that to the established bourgeois it's a heretical thought. Even before we could understand the meaning of the world school, we were told it was the only way to success. Without school, we're nothing. Anyone who drops out, who decides that there dreams might be best served elsewhere, is misguided. Dropouts are illiterate crackheads, we are taught, or they soon will be.

I don't think I could ever devalue education. But what my kids recieve here is not an education. My good kids just go through the motions. My best kids recieve some training. But no one learns to think, and it kills me. I'm not helping - I have my own set of motions that I put them through, and none of those are designed to get kids to think on their own. No one develops a vocabulary other than the 50 or so words that they hear on the street. But they need a sprawling vocabulary, not to impress anyone, but to be able to vocalize to themselves what they think, feel, and experience. In many ways, our language provides the framework for our thoughts, and it is nearly impossible for our thoughts to rise out of that framework. As a math teacher, I am convinced that math is also a language, and that knowing more math allows a person to have deeper thoughts.

And yet, my kids aren't learning this language. They are learning how to jump through hoops. I have no idea, even, how to teach it. All I can do is expose. I need to start exposing my kids to more things, to more beauty, as Mr. Kozol said. There is so much beauty in the world - tucked in among the pages of an old book, spread out across the horizen in waves of purple and orange and sunset, there is beauty in both natural and cultural objects. While my kids can appreciate natural beauty (although, with the limited framework of language they may never be able to describe it well) they are a long way from ever picking up Dostoevsky and seeing the beauty of that great author's insight into the human mind or from leafing through a volume of Ginsburg and being moved to the point of being ready to abandon everything and become a noble bum.

So why stay in school, if it cannot or will not teach one to think deeply, to analyze, to ask the right questions and to find the beauty in all things? To get a degree to get to college to get another degree to get a job to be happy. This is what we middle class often say, when we can't find a real reason to go to school. What we leave out is the money. If we aren't going to school to become enlightened, to stretch our minds and fill the new spaces with as many facts and ideas as possible, then we just going through the motions to get a job, and the only reason anyone every gets a job is to get paid. So, when the noblest of motives no longer fits, we choose the shallowest. This somehow fits well with our bourgeois duplicity - it is shallow to act solely for money or power, yet that is the very foundation of the success for which we are all indoctrinated to strive.

Was K- wrong to dropout? It hurts me, because I tried to be his reason to stay, when he wasn't being enlightened, and he wasn't getting any closer to any material rewards in the form of his diploma. I failed, but hey, the odds were high against me. That seems to be the way things are in this job. But should I be upset about his choice, ignoring the fact that I'll miss him like hell? Did he do the rigth thing? I know he doesn't have any big plans right now. I doubt he has any plans beyond this weekend. But he has so much responsibility - he just became a Dad - and so little preparation. I'm just really worried about the kid.

Four Weeks

Four weeks left in the semester. In four weeks, I'll be computing final grades for my algebra II kids. In four weeks, I'll have survived the first half of what everyone tells me is the hardest thing I'll ever do. I'm starting to think I might make it.

In four weeks, I'll be home. Eating my mom's food. Curling up on the couch to watch something as brainless as law and order. I'll be waking up, putting on sweaters and crunching through snow, making tracks through the bare trees to all the spots I once roamed over at will. In four weeks I'll be at the neighborhood Christmas Eve party, which has become my favorite day of the year. I'll borrow my little sister's car and meet my parents' dog, both new arrivals. Sleep in my little twin bed. Lay out of the cool kitchen floor and repent of eating much more than my stomach has been accustomed to. It will probably freak me out; even thinking about it freaks me out now just a little bit.

I've started to realize how much I've actually been affected by culture shock down here. When I went to Russia, it was something I prepped for, something everyone warned me about, and something I accepted as natural and neccessary. But coming to Mississippi, despite the warnings, I never took the idea of culture shock seriously. After all, I was only making a 20 hour drive, not a 4500 mile flight. I would be speaking (essentially) the same language, and be surrounded by people whom, I suspected, had grown up with a set of experiences that I, more or less, shared. That was where I was wrong. The things that people experience here everyday, through childhood and on to adulthood, are radically different than those I experienced. These kids see more by the time they turn ten then I have ever seen. It was, more than the language or history, the lack of shared experiences that caused most of my culture shock problems in Russia, and I have found that same sort of blockage in my ability to relate to people down here.
This is all a long, drawn out explanation of why I am starting to prepare myself to be weirded out when I get home. Reverse culture shock. Being suddenly flooded with familiar sensations and faces, being immediately spoiled by having an exceptional support network (shout out to you all at home) and everything I need. I'm reminded of a scene from Hatchet, one of those fourth grade books I read upwards of 10 times. The kid (was his name Brian?) spent weeks (months?) living alone in the Canadian wilderness, surviving with only his (you guessed it) hatchet and his wits, but the scene I remember occurs after Brian is rescud. He's been back for several weeks, but when he enters a supermarket, and sees how everyone takes for granted the food that occupied his every thought when he was alone and starving in the wilderness. When I get home, I'm worried I might feel a bit like Brian in the supermarket, angry at everyone for taking for granted the amazing things they have. Because here, people never ask where you live, but where you stay - residences are ever shifting things, and though you might live in Greenville your entire life, you might stay in a different place every few months. You might stay different places different nights of the week, depending on who got their check, who got drunk, who was on the outs with whom. Read "A framework for understanding poverty" by Ruby Payne. I blogged about that book earlier, mainly because I was assigned to, but also because so much of what the book says actually comes true in real life. A friend just told me how surprising it is, in a way, that the world we've studied, been warned about, and prepared for really does exist. And it's true. In so many ways, it was just what I needed, because I was tired of studying, being warned and being prepared. But going back home, to a place where , at least among the circles I traveled in, everything down here is simply something to be studied or warned about, might be a bit off-putting. We'll see. At least I won't be stopping in for a visit at college, the ultimate place to studying and preparing for a reality that the institution of college is eternally striving to banish from the lush green lawns, ivy-covered walls and leather-couched libraries.

Four weeks. Four weeks and tehn I'll see if I react like Brian in the supermarket. I'm sure though, despite it all, I'll be glad to be home. Even if it only makes it harder to come back...

The Enforcer

So, even before Ben assigned this blog, I had started as the enforcer. Second block, algebra II. Nail them. Every time. Talk when I'm talking - bam, give me a page. Keep talking - bam, bam. Hit 'em hard and fast with those tally marks on the board. I only ever recieved writing assignments from two students. And they, of course, were not the ones who were racking up the most assignments. My two trouble girls in that class, the ones I had re-written the rules to deal with, never turned in anything. One turned up once for detention. The other one never did. I wrote both of them up, and difficult guy I have in that class too. Two ended up in ISS, for the other I never saw the referral back.

But results as far as classroom climate. Of course, it generated a lot of animosity and refusal. For me, it seemed to turn the students who had been decent students into more problematic students. For the problem students, it just alienated them more. But at the same time, the classroom did quiet down. Things became more orderly, for sure. But I have to admit, I didn't keep it up. I had it for about three weeks, kept it going, but since then I have dropped off it quite a bit. Part of the reason is that my second consequence - detention - has become imposible, since I've started coaching. I also started to burn out right around that time, and that certainly contributed. And I had a few really good days with my other classes, that led me to think all this wasn't neccassary. But in truth, I stopped consistently enforcing my rules because I didn't have good rules (or consequences). It all goes back to what I said in my last post about not having concrete expectations for what I want my class to be like. I say that I'd kill for 50 minute blocks, but I don't think that would solve the problem. What I'd really love to do is observe some of the other MTC teachers - especially M. Bo-Bonley. Watching more math teachers teach would be, I think, supremely useful. I've dropped in on our resident second year TFA's class a couple of times, but I really would like to see Mr. Bo-Bonley
teach. I feel like his style is a lot more orthodox than mine, and I'd like to see how that works out for him. How learning takes place. Because still, after almost four months in this profession, I have no idea what sorts of things lead to comprehension and what sorts of things lead to completely lost students.

First Game

5-0 them.

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss

So, my old classroom management plan. Writing assignments, detentions. No talking. Right... After talking to some 2nd year TFAs from my school, I abandoned that one before school even started, and came up with a new plan. Consequences: warning, conference, detention, parent phone call, office referral. These are still on the wall, but in fact, I've long since stopped using them. I initiated a new plan with my second block: warning, writing assignment, detention, office. I stuck to it for a few weeks, but I found my rules: absolutely no talking during certain activities, etc, to be uneforcable and my consequences to be unreasonable. I got about 4 writing assignments, all from the same girl, and one other girl who stayed for detention. The rest I wrote up for skipping detention, and nothing happened to them. My classroom management plan right now is in serious need of a revamping, and the main problem I'm facing is that I am still not sure what my own expectations are or should be. I can't expect silence for 98 minutes. And like Ben said, limiting talking with a rule such as be respectful or even speak respectfully at all times is too wishy-washy. What is respectful, what isn't? Who decides? Let's argue about it. Plus, I am not sure what to do for consequences. Detention is not longer an option, since I've started coaching (that's the one thing that's going right in my professional life at the moment). Writing assignments? Would anyone do them? Before school detentions? Would anyone come? Calling parents? For one particular student, I have never been able to get a number for his family. The one the school had given me gave the Chrysler dealership.

My rules now are very simple. Do math, or at least shut up so that everyone else can do math. If you don't do math, you get a zero. If you don't shut up so that everyone else can do math, I'll ask you nicely to be quiet, and then I'll write you up. This is really, really bad. Some days I can get along fine with it, and others, I lose it completely. Like Thursday and Friday. Completely lost. I know I need something better, and I sit in front of the computer and draft and scrap new plans almost daily, and I lay in bed and draft new plans in my sleep. I even find myself contemplating new plans as I try to shower in the morning, half asleep and wondering why the water in the new house, aside from not really washing off the soap, smells so strange. But I always end up throwing them out before I get to implementation. Because I just can't envision anything working out.

In a way, although I hate to admit it, my management plan relies on my students doing things. If they come in uncooperative, I am really sometimes at a loss. This is a little more than I like to admit, even to myself. I have looks, I have words, and I have grades, and the kids who have a shread of respect, or who care at all about their grades aren't a problem, but the kids who don't care about anything or anyone, I have no consequences to try to turn them around. I feel like I would have been much better off sticking to my original consequences, but my original rules were untenable. I need to figure out, first, what I want my 98 minutes to look like, sound like, and feel like, and then I need to create rules that will create that. I would kill for 50 minute blocks. But I guess the grass is always greener.

That's all. The end.

See math, hear math, touch math, feel math.

Ah yes, the learning styles blog.

When I collected my learning styles survey from my students, it was a very low day among all the highs and the lows of teaching. My students weren’t understanding anything I was teaching, apparently. I wasn’t sure if I was going to fast, if I talked funny, talked too much and didn’t put enough on the board or put too much on the board and talked too little. One thing I was sure of was that I didn’t do enough hands on activities. My kids tell me this at least every other day. Mr. G., it be so boring up in here. Why can’t we do no fun activities. Because you would do even less work at that point than you do now, you would hit each other, throw paper and whatever manipulatives the activities required, and I would be finding little algebra tiles under desks and behind books for the next three months. That’s why. But I was sure that I wasn’t doing enough of those things to be a good teacher. This is where my learning styles survey actually told me something new. Where I had expected to see that my students were all kinesthetic learners who understood no oral instruction and very little visual, I found the opposite. My students are mostly visual learners, followed closely by auditory learners.

They see math, they hear math. They don’t need to touch it or feel it. Thank goodness. So I think I need to resort to better visuals. Typing up notes for the overhead doesn’t cut it. Especially since a certain clumsy fourth block student knocked my overhead off the desk and onto the floor, where it’s nice little glass face broke into far too many little pieces. I need to get that LCD going, have some numbers rolling in on powerpoints, add some sound effects.

Riiiight. That is what I should do. But my land of should is currently very far from my land of reality. In fact, I believe it would be correct to say they are two disjoint spaces. So, I’ll try to be a little more visual every day, and I’ll stress less about doing those fun, hands on activities that my kids claim to love.

Homework! Oh, Homework!

Homework! Oh, Homework!I hate you! You stink!I wish I could wash you away in the sink,if only a bombwould explode you to bits.Homework! Oh, homework!You're giving me fits.
I'd rather take bathswith a man-eating shark,or wrestle a lionalone in the dark,eat spinach and liver,pet ten porcupines,than tackle the homework,my teacher assigns.
Homework! Oh, homework!you're last on my list,I simple can't seewhy you even exist,if you just disappearedit would tickle me pink.Homework! Oh, homework!I hate you! You stink!
Jack Prelutsky


When I started to read Cooper's article on the effeciacy of homework, somehow the only thing that came to my mind was that Prelutsky poem. Again, thank you mom for making me read. You and Dad made me literate enough to understand the difference between correlation and causation that lines like "The more homework high school students do, the higher their achievement levels" conveniently ignore. Students who do homework are, in my experience, the highest achievers. The three young ladies who consistently turn in their assignments first block every morning certainly are.
Furthermore, although some of the studies quoted by Cooper compare students who were given homework with those who were not, this does not solve the correlation vs. causation demo. Schools or teachers that assign more homework are those that would expect students to do it. Teachers who meet with an almost empty homework bin every morning and a gradebook filled with zeros every night may sooner or later become fed up and stop assigning homework, as even many of the most dedicated MTCs have done.
Not that I disagree with their findings, but I just enjoy playing the devil’s advocate a bit. In fact, I agree wholeheartedly that homework, especially during high school, will only increase achievement of those students motivated to actually do it. However, I am still curious about the negative effects of homework that the study fails to mention, specifically, I wonder how much homework serves to alienate those without strong work habits or support systems at home from school. What is the effect of homework on those who are assigned it, but never do it. Because that, right now, is the majority of my students.

Шинник

Every day when I come home from school, I think of all the other things I could be doing, and start to fantasize about the things I will do when I'm done teaching in the Delta. Usually, I daydream about going as far away from here as I could possibly go, to another, even more backwards place, Russia.

I spent a semester in Russia my junior year, and now, whenever things start to get unbearable, I check the price of that one way ticket from Memphis to Moscow. It's still too expensive. Or I'll check the news from the city I lived in, Ярославль (Yaroslavl'). Our soccer team, Шинник (Shinnik) which roughly translates into the little tire men, is now bottom of the table, with one win from twenty-two matches. I only hope to be doing that well when my tenure as a coach begins (seriously, we haven't won a game in three years). I really do want to go back to Russia.

My newest idea is that when I'm done with MTC, I'll hitch a ride over to Springer Mountain, GA, and just walk home. The AT runs through my back yard, so I could do it, no problem. I could start tomorrow. But as much as I say I would love to do these things, right now, instead of teaching, on some level at least I don't really mean it. Because if I left now (or after just a year) I wouldn't be a traveler, I'd be a fugitive, on the run from my failure. But if I am going to fail at this (and I will fail, a thousand times, before I get it right once) I'd rather go down fighting then running.

So my conclusion is that there is nothing wrong with daydreaming a bit about where else I'd like to be in two years. Nothing at all. By then, I'll deserve some kind of reward. But by then, maybe I'd be in the frame of mind to make it a class trip to Russia (amazingly enough, they did it before at my school, about 10 years ago).

Sick Day

Sometimes, it's really hard to live with the fact that I am, in fact, a bad teacher. I am unorganized. My classroom management alternates between fair and poor. My explanations can be incomprehensible and my lessons are often disasters. Now, I myself do not like failing, or being bad at anything, but I can take it. I never was very good at chess (or mountain biking, swimming, anything musical or artistic) or a whole host of other things that I usually decided were not important. But teaching is important. It's important to all my students and to the parents who entrusted these students to me. If I can't teach them what they need to know, they won't graduate. Everyone says the first year is the hardest, everyone says I'll get better, but I need to be a good teacher right now for these kids, and I'm not. I don't know that I could work any harder at it. As it is, I usually spend my entire day working, from when I get out of bed until when I get back in bed again. I stop to eat, and drive places (usually to office depot or wal-mart for something for school) but teaching is consuming me. I wouldn't mind so much, if only all that work paid off, if only somehow by working 12 or 14 hour days I would become a better teacher, but that's not happening right now, and I'm having trouble forgiving myself for not being better at this. For not being more organized. For not even knowing how to do this job better. For all my kids who will be retesting next fall.

pocketful of shells

"Did you tell Mr. G- ?"

"Did you here about your student?"

No, what?

"R- got shot this weekend."

"Mmmhhmmmm, sure did."

"They shot him in both legs, so hardheaded. I told him not to be messing around, but he's so hard-headed, you know."

"I wonder what he did get into. He's such a playful guy."

Is he alright?

"Said he'll be back in about six weeks, so you gotta send some work for him. I told him just Friday that he's going to get himself into some trouble being so hard-headed (that was just last week you told him), and look where he's got himself now."

I admit, I was glad, positively glad when I saw his name on the absent list second block. It meant that the good day that had begun in first block might last until the end of the day. Without both R- and K- I could probably get something taught. But know, I don't know what to think. Poor kid. He is certainly one of my worst behaved kids, always talking out, joking, completely innappropriate, singing and rapping in class. He never does any work, except for making tables of values from equations, he loves that.

Most days, he gets into arguments, usually joking, with someone across the room from him. Did you here what she called me Mr. G? he'll ask. One day I took him out into the hall and told him, whatever someone says to you, just let it run off you like water off a turtle's back. I'm not sure how successful this was. The next day, every five minutes, it was - Mr. G., you hear/see that? I'd give him a teacher look, and R-, all six feet four inches of him, would sit down, oh yeah, that's ok, like water off a turtle's back. He must have said the phrase 30 times that day. He still reacted to everything anyone might have said, but his reaction now included uttering his newfound mantra.

I guess I won't now make him serve the detentions that I had assigned him. I'm not sure how to keep him current on his work, if that is even possible. On the way home from school today, I was thinking of how different the world my kids are growing up in is from the world that I grew up in. I have never seen a gun fired in anger, never heard a shot and known it was aimed at a human body, certainly I have never felt bullets whizz past me, knowing that with a little less luck I might have been dead.

Every one of my kids knows someone who is shot. I would venture to guess that 90% have heard shots fired in anger, and probably about 70% have seen that sort of thing go down. I wouldn't guess how many have actually been shot at - or been on the other side, pulling the trigger - but I'm sure it is not an inconsequential proportion. These are things I just never thought about, never even considered possibilities growing up but my kids live with these fears every day. When I told my fourth block class that R - had been shot, some had known, some hadn't, but none seemed really surprised or worried. My cousin got shot this weekend too - one exclaimed.

i love my kids

it means i'm too nice to them. it means i accept late work when i shouldn't. it means that it's hard for me to let them suffer the consequences of their thoughtless actions, and it means that i let them laugh in detention a little bit.

but really, i love my kids. i hate my school, my building, my classroom. i hate my paperwork. i hate lesson planning. my administration is pretty good, but i still hate the beaurocracy. i hate jbhm, and in fact, i don't even really like math all that much. but i love my kids, so i love my job. and even though for at least an hour every day i wish i had never come down here, most nights when i go to bed i'm glad that i'm here.

oh, and i can't wait to start coaching. we're already on course to snap our three-year losing streak.

try again to post this one...

Poverty Blog
I just thought I'd start out by talking about the things I've seen in my month and a half teaching that have been exactly to the letter, like the things written in the book. First of all is the story telling. The casual register example story in the book has been played out three or four times in my class, usually I stop it before it gets too far, but it always starts something like "Maaan, Tiesha so dumb" and then continues, with constant interjections. Sometimes, when I let my students talk during homeroom, I try to actually figure out what it is that they're talking about, and I never can figure it out. There is no chronology to it, no sense of time, and I feel like the minds of many of my students are organized in the same ways that they speak - they don't have a strong sense of time or chronological order. Maybe this is part of the reason my students often seem to struggle with the idea of cause and effect. They don't seem to attach any importance to what comes first and what comes second, in discipline situations and in math problems.
The other thing that has leapt out especially clearly to me is the need to sacrifice relationships for achievement if one hopes to move into the middle-class. This is especially hard for high school students, who usually define themselves by their relationships, and even more difficult in a school which doesn't offer students any other ways to define themselves. In high school, I was a soccer player. I was a skier. I was on the newspaper. I was involved in the student council. All sorts of junk. These were all different ways that I could define myself, different groups I put myself in. But in a school of 1800, where the only extracurriculars are sports (and a fledgling "tech team"), the vast majority of the students are left with only one way to define themselves in school - the friends they hang with. To be cool with their friends, they sacrifice school. To do well in school, they have to sacrifice their loser friends.
I don't really know what to do about this yet. Obviously, more extra-curriculars would be a start. Create more clubs, teams, organizations, so that students can see themselves in a group besides the friends or the gang that they run with. But even so, sacrifices will have to be made, and having multiple ways of representing yourself will only make that sacrifice of relationships a little less painful. I wonder, though, how effective mentoring relationships can be at easing that pain. At first, it seems likely that substituting one relationship for another might be helpful, but I feel like if a student is seen to be giving up relationships for a teacher's vision, rather than his own vision of how he wants to change his life, then giving up relationships might be even more difficult. Trying to establish a mentoring relationship in these circumstances would, I feel, be really hard. But as the book says, one of the biggest factors in "making it" is relationships with positive role models. I just don't yet know how to foster those kinds of relationships.
Aside from the book, I guess I might blog about a few other things I've been thinking lately. It's my planning period, after all, and I can't bring myself to start to organize for fourth block quite yet.

Differentiated Instruction
Some students pick up things after 2 examples. Some students need two weeks. This is hard, and I don't know what to do. Teach right down the middle? Or teach to the low end? I need to somehow -
Students arrive. One wants a progress report for her Mama, even though she claims that last week is her last week of school. What are her plans for the weekend. She can't do nothing because she's got to stay home with her baby. She's failing three of her classes, mine included, but she can't seem to get rid of that smile. She really is a good kid. The other asked for a progress report yesterday, and so I gave it to her today. She's failing too. A third student is with them. They say you failed all your students. The second student pipes up
"Naw, he's a good teacher, I just be missing too many days."
"He still supposd to give you your work"
"He call me last night, but I was with my baby's dady"
(Me) "You know all you have to do is get me the work, and then I can go back into the computer and change your grade"
"Yeah, I fittnta do it. You's the only class I'm failing"
So, I got called a good teacher. Even if she just said it because she wants to pass and wants me to like her so that I'll pass her, it still feels good, after my second block tells me that I can't teach, every single day. That's where I'm having the biggest problem with differentiating my instruction. There are some students in there who never should have passed algebra I. There are some, in fact, who have still not yet passed the algebra I state test, juniors. And there are some who have already whipped through algebra I and geometry, and are ready to tear into algebra II. Well, not really, but there are some who at least have a strong fundamental sense of what we do with numbers. One who really is awesome. i don't wonder why those kids act up. I know. When I'm explaining systems of linear equations for the fourth day in a row, they are just ready to go to sleep. What is really frustrating though, is when they don't get it. When they have it, and then lose it, or when they can substitute or add equations but cannot add fractions. One girl, while good at a lot of things, still doesn't have a clue about what fractions are or what we do with them.

Organization
When the year started off, I thought I was good. I had hanging files, manilla folders, post-it notes, paper clips, everything a man could want to organize himself, right? Wrong. I just seem to always have so many things going on that I can't keep up with putting things where they need to be, never mind coming up with new places to put all the other things that I had never even thought of having to file (attendance reports, do not admit lists, I probably should even file all my late bus passes, rather than crumple them up and throw them out). Places to file transparencies, detention slips, memos... The list of things I have yet to find a place for goes on.
Discipline
I wrote more referrals this week than ever before. Two today. Plus the one I wrote yesterday for a detention skipper. Stupid stuff, all of them. I might write one more this afternoon. I need to make a seating chart, again. With big boxes, so I can put my check marks for alg II right on there. Then I can put a big S for sleeping, an R for refusal to do work, a T for excessive talking. Then I need to file away a seating chart for every class, every day, to keep on hand. So when I get those phone calls about why I failed someone's kid, I can say, well Sir, your son was sleeping in class 3 days this week, and four days last week. One of those days, Wednesday, we had a test, and he wasn't able to complete the test because he was asleep. I tried to wake him several times, and offered to move his seat, but he declined. I had spoken to him out in the hall the day before about sleeping, and he had agreed with me that he needs to do better. Then Thursday, as he began to doze, I warned him that if he continued to sleep in my class, he would owe me a detention. I woke him up once more, and then wrote him a detention slip, which he signed, and I can show it to you if you'd like. However, he has not yet showed up at detention. I believe, in fact, we spoke about this detention on Tuesday, the day he skipped, and you assured me he'd be there on thursday. He did not show up on Thursday, either, and so I wrote him up. The principal gave him a day in PAC, Friday. Friday I went to see him during PAC, my planning period, to catch him up on what he missed in class, but he refused to talk to me. I know that he has been struggling with fractions all year long, and so I had brought some examples to work with him, since I wanted to take advantage of a little one-on-one time to make sure he knows everything he needs to know to be successful, but he refused to talk to me and was exceedingly disrespectful. He said "Why you keep talkin ta me" and when I explained that I just wanted to make sure he learned the material, he sighed loudly and said "whatever" after that point, he completely refused to acknowledge my presence, so I left. Consequently, he failed the test the next tuesday with a 35%. He has also only turned in 3 of the last 15 homework assignments, and has not turned in several simple class assignments. He told me he would come after school to make up some of his poor quiz grades, but I have yet to see him after fourth block, despite the fact that he would simply need to stay in my classroom. These are the reasons your child is failing my class. He certainly is capable of doing well, he just has to make the decision that he is here to learn. I'll do everything I can to help him learn, but I will not accept anything that keeps him or other students from learning in class.
That's what I would say if I had my act together. Right now, I'd be able to say about a third of that. All of that that I wrote above is true for one student or another. I just need to get my stuff together. I need to get a computer at school that actually works too. Laptop's a comin'. Then I can grade here, put in my grades, here, and never take stuff home. Or, rather, take half the stuff home that I do take. Print off real-time progress reports, from the comfort of my own classroom. Oh, the wonderful repose that I will experience once I have a classroom computer that runs on something other than windows 98.

poverty book and sundry

I just thought I'd start out by talking about the things I've seen in my month and a half teaching that have been exactly to the letter, like the things written in the book. First of all is the story telling. The casual register example story in the book has been played out three or four times in my class, usually I stop it before it gets too far, but it always starts something like "Maaan, Tiesha so dumb" and then continues, with constant interjectons. Sometimes, when I let my students talk during homeroom, I try to actually figure out what it is that they're talking about, and I never can figure it out. There is no chonology to it, no sense of time, and I feel like the minds of many of my students are organized in the same ways that they speak - they don't have a strong sense of time or chronological order. Maybe this is part of the reason my students often seem to struggle with the idea of cause and effect. They don't seem to attach any importance to what comes first and what comes second, in discipline situations and in math problems.

The other thing that has leapt out especially clearly to me is the need to sacrifice relationships for achievement if one hopes to move into the middle-class. This is especially hard for high school students, who usually define themselves by their relationships, and even more difficult in a school which doesn't offer students any other ways to define themselves. In high school, I was a soccer player. I was a skier. I was on the newspaper. I was involved in the student council. All sorts of junk. These were all different ways that I could define myself, different groups I put myself in. But in a school of 1800, where the only extracurriculars are sports (and a fledgling "tech team"), the vast majority of the students are left with only one way to define themselves in school - the friends they hang with. To be cool with their friends, they sacrifice school. To do well in school, they have to sacrifice their loser friends.
I don't really know what to do about this yet. Obviously, more extra-curriculars would be a start. Create more clubs, teams, organizations, so that students can see themselves in a group besides the friends or the gang that they run with. But even so, sacrifices will have to be made, and having multiple ways of representing yourself will only make that sacrifice of relationships a little less painful. I wonder, though, how effective mentoring relationships can be at easing that pain. At first, it seems likely that substitiuting one relationship for another might be helpful, but I feel like if a student is seen to be giving up relationships for a teacher's vision, rather than his own vision of how he wants to change his life, then giving up relationships might be even more difficult. Trying to establish a mentoring relationship in these circumstances would, I feel, be really hard. But as the book says, one of the biggest factors in "making it"; is relationships with positive role models. I just don't yet know how to foster those kinds of relationships.
Aside from the book, I guess I might blog about a few other things I've been thinking lately. It's my planning period, after all, and I can't bring myself to start to organize for fourth block quite yet.
Differentiated Instruction
Some students pick up things after 2 examples. Some students need two weeks. This is hard, and I don't know what to do. Teach right down the middle? Or teach to the low end? I need to somehow -

Students arrive. One wants a progress report for her Mama, even though she claims that last week is her last week of school. What are her plans for the weekend. She can't do nothing after school because she's got to stay home with her baby. She's failing three of her classes, mine included, but she can't seem to get rid of that smile. She really is a good kid. The other asked for a progress report yesterday, and so I gave it to her today. She's failing too. A third student is with them. They say you failed all your students. The second student pipes up
Naw, he\'s a good teacher, I just be missing too many days.
He still supposd to give you your work
He call me last night, but I was with my baby\'s dady
(Me)You know all you have to do is get me the work, and then I can go back into the computer and change your grade
Yeah, I fittnta do it. You's the only class I'm failing&

So, I got called a good teacher. Even if she just said it because she wants to pass and wants me to like her so that I'll pass her, it still feels good, after my second block tells me that I can't teach, every single day. That's where I\'m having the biggest problem with differentiating my instruction. There are some students in there who never should have passed algebra I. There are some, in fact, who have still not yet passed the algebra I state test, juniors. And there are some who have already whipped through algebra I and geometry, and are ready to tear into algebra II. Well, not really, but there are some who at least have a strong fundamental sense of what we do with numbers. One who really is awesome. i don't wonder why those kids act up. I know. When I'm explaining systems of linear equations for the fourth day in a row, they are just ready to go to sleep. What is really frustrating though, is when they don't get it. When they have it, and then lose it, or when they can substitute or add equations but cannot add fractions. One girl, while good at a lot of things, still doesn't have a clue about what fractions are or what we do with them.

Organization
When the year started off, I thought I was good. I had hanging files, manilla folders, post-it notes, paper clips, everything a man could want to organize himself, right? Wrong. I just seem to always have so many things going on that I can\'t keep up with putting things where they need to be, nevermind coming up with new places to put all the other things that I had never even thought of having to file (attendence reports, do not admit lists, I probably should even file all my late bus passes, rather than crumple them up and throw them out). Places to file transparencies, detention slips, memos... The list of things I have yet to find a place for goes on.
Organization

Rescue Plan

So, it's been a while since I wrote a blog. The only reason I'm writing one right now is because I've resigned myself to the fact that I won't get anything like the amount of sleep I want to get tonight. So if I'm up for 15 more minutes because of a blog, what difference does that really make anyway? I know, though, that in the morning those extra 15 minutes will seem so valuable.

Anyway, reading Merideth's blog and talking to some other second years, I realize that my position is in fact the norm for first year teachers. I'm doing ok. Yes, some days are bad. Most days are bad. My Algebra II class is almost always bad. But I can work through it. Not in the sense that I can just talk louder than my kids and expect them to learn. I tried that, and it didn't work. At all. But in the sense that I can change things. I can turn enjoy my second block class as much as my fourth, I just have to crack down on them first.

Really, that Algebra II class is difficult. The talking, the disrespect. The paper throwing. Eating. Talking back. Refusing to do work. Then, they say "Mr. G, you don't know how to teach this stuff." or "Mr. G, you just don't teach. You just be expecting us to do this stuff, and you ain't never taught it to us." Yes, I taught it. You were just shouting back and forth with someone across the room. The next time I taught it, you were throwing paper. The third time, you were asleep (and drooling) and the fourth time I taught it, you were stabbing someone with a pencil. One student actually dropped my class to take Algebra II with another teacher. She told me she wasn't learning anything in here. Most of my remaining students have told me that they'd like to get out like she did, into the other teacher's class.


But I realized, in a sense, that the students were all right. If I can't control my classroom, and if I can't get students to listen, then it doesn't matter what I say, what I write on the board, or what I plan - I am a bad teacher. At least as far as those students are concerned. They aren't getting anything out of my class except frustration. If they were learning something, then fine, I could deal with the noise and chaos, but, of course, no one learns anything in that kind of situation, except how to avoid getting caught with his hot cheetos.

I dropped in on a colleague's class yesterday. This is my worst block, she told me. The students were all sitting. They were all silent. Even when she was at the door talking with me. They all appeared, at least at first glance, to be working. I can't wait until I can call a class like that my worst class.

Right now, that algebra II class is my worst class. I've spent the night not planning, not grading (grades are due by the end of the day tomorrow and I have not done any planning yet for tomorrow), but trying to come up with a rescue plan for my second block Algebra II. New rules, new consequences. New seating (still working on that). Tomorrow, I'm going to take my plan to my principal if she has time, if not to my mentor teacher. I'll tack it onto the bottom of this post, please leave some feedback. The big thing is not, of course, the plan, but sticking to it. I've been sticking to my tardy policy pretty well, and that hasn't been much of a problem, but everything else I've been too lax on. How, for example, could I have gone until today without calling my loudest student's mother?

I guess, because I've been absolutely exhausted, all the time. There's another thing I need to work on - reducing my workload, especially grading. I've been assigning and collecting homework every day except Friday, and I've been having a quiz in each of my classes every day. Quite often we do classwork, and I tell them I'll take that up too. Usually, I throw the classwork out once they leave, but I'm grading and recording 50-60 quizzes and 30-40 homework assignments every night. Or I should be. Half of it gets shunted off to the weekend. Plus, with the block schedule, I should be busting through two units every three weeks, so that means a test most weeks. I just need to find a way to do less of that. Having the kids grade their own things is one option, but it's really not very appealing. Maybe I'll start making scantrons for the benchmarks. Give everyone one scantron for the week, and then run it through at the end of the week. But ideally I want them to be getting benchmarks the next day, because I want them to know how they did, so that they'll have a chance to make it up if they want / need to.

Anyway, here's my draft of my rescue plan. Good night.

Mr. G’s Algebra II class will follow a new set of rules, starting Friday, September 15, 2006. These rules are being put in place because the classroom has become so noisy, distracting, and disrespectful that it is very difficult for students to learn. Every student in the class is capable of learning the material, if provided with a positive, orderly learning environment. These rules seek to establish such an environment for all students in the class.

New Rules

1. No eating, sleeping or throwing paper.
2. Raise your hand every time you wish to speak. Do not speak to another student unless you have explicit permission from Mr. Gallagher.
3. Be respectful at all times. Being respectful means following all directions the first time they are given. Being respectful means putting forth your best effort during all class work and class activities. Students should be respectful in everything they do, from their speech and work habits to their body language. If I am giving a student instructions and they sigh or shrug their shoulders disrespectfully, this will also lead to a consequence.

New Consequences

A student will receive one warning for all rules. Anything after a warning and the student will complete a one-page writing assignment specific to the rule you broke. Additional infractions will lead to additional pages. A student will not be asked to write more than 5 pages – if he breaks the rules more than five times during a class, the student will be sent out.

In addition, any food brought into the classroom by a student will be confiscated immediately. If the student refuses to hand over the food, he or she will receive an immediate office referral.

Writing Assignment

First Page

• What rule did you break?
• What were your reasons for breaking it?
• What will you do differently next time?

Second – Fifth Pages

• Copy terms from the glossary in the back of the Algebra II book.

If you fail to turn in your writing assignment the next day, you will have detention for the next Tuesday or Thursday. If you fail to show up at detention, I’ll call your parents and assign you the next detention. If you skip that detention, I will write you up. At this point, you will have had five chances to do the right thing. If you are written up, it will be no one’s fault but your own.

I want to ensure that our classroom is a place where students are able to learn. Any action that makes it difficult for students to learn is completely unacceptable and will not be tolerated.

i got 99 problems but algebra ain't one

in fact, algebra is a problem for me. not so much algebra itself. i breezed through it in 6th grade. but explaining algebra to kids lacking the basic skills, who don't want to learn it. it's part of the challenge inherent in a program like mtc. we were the best of the best, we never struggled with the things we are now teaching and in many ways i find that i struggle now to find what it is my kids don't understand. what, possibly, could be so confusing about adding and subtracting negative numbers? everything, it turns out, even in algebra II.

the title of the blog is what one student said when i asked him for a slogan for my class. i need a motto. a math motto. my algebra I kids told me that ms america, their algebra I teacher last year, had a motto that they chanted at the begining of every class. i think this is a great idea, but my creative powers are at an all-time low at the moment. and it couldn't have worked that well, because otherwise they would have passed algebra I and wouldn't be in my class. I have a lot of repeaters.

so, i need some rewards. i need some excitement. my class is boring. I think I'll start with tickets monday. i was all set to do a marble jar, but i realized, i'll never be near enough to the jar. so, if i can give out tickets, say, like a SW does, if you are in your seat and working when the bell rings, or if you finish your independent work, or, my personal, unstolen favorite, when you explain why or how. no tickets for correct answers in class, but you can get a ticket if you give a helpful explanation. i don't think i'll start with that one monday, but i'll try to work it in. i thought about PAT - preferred activity time - too, but i don't think that's really my style. i've got to figure something out though. hopefully tickets, with rewards of a free 100 on a homework, pencils, maybe a soda or cookies... we'll see. i'm still open for suggestions.

it's 6:37...

and i've been home for almost an hour and a half. in that time, i've read one article from the new york times online. something about the new kinds of batteries they are trying to make. to be honest, i'm just braindead. i had so many things i wanted to get done. get home from school. grade three sets of benchmarks. grade homework, just for completion. make tomorrow's benchmarls. call the tfa, whose third block i told him i'd cover (during my planning period) since he is going to be getting kids ready for the algebra I retest for the next two days. call parents. print progress reports. print out the benchmarks for kids to retake. make a list of all the benchmarks that people have missed when they were absent/not in school. figure out a better way to deal with attendence. make charts, with a goal of 90% on the benchmarks, and little movable things to show where each class is on their way to that goal. before today's benchmark, my algebra I classes had a 52 and 63, respectively. oh damn. i somehow screwed up my grading program. and the benchmarks that i gave back today never got entered. so, i could just forget about them, but that would be extraordinarily difficult, because of printing progress reports and such. or i could give a fake notebook check, in which i tell them i'm giving a notebook check for a grade, and then just actually write down the grade they got on that benchmark. motherbugger. half of them will have lost it already. crap crap crap. whatever. i'm going to try to get the other ones in now. classmate, i feel, is probably not the best grading software around, but it's what they gave me at school. if anyone has anything better (and free) let me know.

ruckus in the hall

today I broke up my first fight. i heard some noise in the hall as i was going to make photocopies, and as i turned my head i saw one kid jump at another. four quick steps later and i was wading into a storm of windmilling fists (these kids, surprisingly, don't actually seem to know how to throw a punch). it was a relatively simple task to grab one kid from behind and pull him away, just keeping myself between him and the other one. coach was there ten seconds behind me, and security was right behind him. i discharged the kids into their care and went off to make my copies. at least i seem to have made a friend of the security guard out of it.

school has been non-stop crazy, and i just haven't had the time to do most of the things i need to do, never mind some of the things i would really like to do. took ben's advice and took saturday off, completely, and went up to the blues festival with WS. was too tired to really enjoy it, but i guess it was good for my sanity. i wonder now, though, if taking that time off might have been a mistake. i really need to come up with a rewards system, and to make some kind of action plan for my fourth block, which was, surprisingly, a little better today, although certainly not quiet, by any means. I told them all that I was glad they were a little more focused on work today, and they said - just wait until Kenny comes back. Kenny is already one of my favorites, but he tries to play me, and always speaks out in class. i think it also helped that i moved the Joker away from the kid who called me a fag. But I'm not sure. I still have to figure out someway to get through to MH, who has to be one of the loudest students i have ever met, in all of my 17 years in one type of school or another. louder than the girl who used to dance on her desk in my third grade class, louder than the guys who used to sneak out of class to jump off the roof in 7th grade, or anyone i can think of that i might have been to college with. she's trouble, alright, but she's not a bad kid. i just need to reign her in.

also, kids in my FAP were discussing the years that different people were born. "I bet Mr. Gallagher born in about 76." I just nod, and let them think whatever they want, but i got a kick out of that, just like i get a kick out of the fact that everyone thinks I look like a certain third year tfa. yes, we're white, relatively tall and thin, and we both have some form of facial hair. i guess that's all it takes for a striking similarity. or the girl in the hall the other day, who asked me what my name was. when i asked her, in return, who she was, she promptly responded "mrs. gallagher" i must have given her a nastly look, because she immediately followed it with "i'm just playin" and her real name.

alright, that's that. i've got some phone calls to make. i'm nowhere near my target of calling every parent in the first two weeks, but i've got this whole weekend before it's been, technically, two weeks. so, six tonight. only one discipline-related. one positive. and four introductary.

good luck to the rest of the mtc crew - i know you all will be the last to read this, but i know you all will be doing great work right now, or at least struggling towards survival, which is about where i'm at.

the last thing i should be doing right now is writing a blog

so tired. so much to do. so much of a problem with photocopies. so ready to drop the $200 on the laser copier printer scanner faxer extraordinare, just for the certainty, for the ability to not have to rely on other people (my principal to approve it and my secretary - who is great, but) to get what i need to have my lessons run smoothly for me and my kids.

i don't know how the other teachers do it. sw and i were amazed to see all the teachers, on both our campuses, gone before 4:30. I would still be there, if they hadn't kicked me out at 5. i just don't know how you can do this job not working at least 11 hours a day.

The benevolent ghost of (blank)

The benevolent ghost of (blank) August 3, 2006

I’m beginning to feel haunted. When I was first given a tour of Big Delta high school, I was shown into the room of a departed math teacher. On the white board was a message for his students, and below that was a polite message to everyone else: please do not erase until after the first day of school. It is a measure of the respect that the departed must have commanded that the message was still in evidence today, as I visited the room for the second time.

(blank) was a prodigious teacher. The test scores of his classes – 100% pass rate for Algebra I last year – prove that, but the reverence with which he is spoken of among the remaining teachers is an even better indicator. He was TFA, and stayed two extra years. During that time, he built up an incredible collection of resources, which have fallen rather fortuitously into my hands.

Reading through his plans, schedules, benchmarks, worksheets, and tests, I feel rather like I am being haunted by the departed innovator. His methods have forced me to rethink my entire course structure and thus my classroom management plan; not because I want to take advantage of the work he has done to lesson my own load, but because it would simply be a crime for my students if I did not follow his lead.

Every class starts with a benchmark. A cross between a set of DoNow problems and a test. Each is designed to take 25 minutes, and they are timed. Any student who scores less than a 90% on the benchmarks receives a zero on that benchmark, until he or she makes it up. Any student receiving above a 90% will receive a 100% on that benchmark. Failure is simply unacceptable. It would never work in a regular schedule. But with 98 minutes a day for the entire year, it not only works, but it’s necessary and ideal. It’s strange that I can see myself moving closer to the Guestian model of instruction, even before I’ve stepped into the classroom. I don’t think I’ll spend my time in my desk chair – not only is it not comfortable enough, but I want to be walking among my students all the time. Proximity is the best CM, right? And looking over a kid’ shoulder is, in my opinion, one of the best methods of informal evaluation. But it’s not exhausting, like being on display all the time, and I’ll be tired enough without that.

I must admit it’s intimidating to be walking in the footsteps of such a ghost. Yet it is inspiring. He has set the benchmark, so to speak, for me and all the other math teachers at Big Delta. Now I just need to remember not to get too down on myself when these first few weeks don’t go according to plan. But I’ll take my cue from the ghost, and work my arse off to see that the year does go according to a plan; not just any plan, but a darn good one. Thank you, Mr. (blank). You’re a heck of a teacher, even in absentia. Too bad you didn’t leave lesson plans, or a pacing guide…

?

Written July 29, 2006

Belated Blog – written in the pre-internet age at the new house. Posted in the pirated wireless age.

This have been pretty quiet this past week. The parents came down, and helped me move into the new place. It was nice to have them down here for the week and we got a lot done. The house is starting to feel like a home. I’ve got a bed, a desk, a dresser, even a filing cabinet. There’s a woman who lives down on old 61 who buys people’s things out of old storage units and then trucks them back to her place and sells all the junk. There are some pretty good deals down there, for all who might be interested. We cleaned up the kitchen pretty well, and the one bathroom at least, and now all I have to do is actually start teaching.

I went down to my school Thursday and Friday. The counselor was nice enough to print out my rolls for me, and imagine my surprise when I looked at them and saw that I am scheduled to teach algebra one (two sections) and algebra two (one section). Until Thursday, I had been under the impression that I was teaching two sections of geometry and one section of advanced algebra / trig. No big deal. Wednesday night I had just reached a breakthrough about how I was going to start the year with geometry, skipping what my students would recognize as math entirely for the first two weeks and working solely with logic. We’d start out with simple if-then conditional statements, work our way up to a implies b, get some biconditional statements, converses, inverses, contrapositives, and then make proofs, all without even thinking about numbers. No review required, to start that, because we’d be doing brand new stuff, without any foundation, in fact, we would be laying the foundation. Then, we could move on and build mathematical proofs, once we had the framework from working with purely logical proofs. I was excited. Plus, I taught advanced algebra this summer during TEAM, so I had a slew of lessons planned out for that. I’ll just toss out all those hours of deep contemplation, and start again.

But there is some good news as well. When I was talking to some of the teachers, I asked them what the class size limit is? I had remembered hearing 27 from someone in the administration, and they just laughed at that, and said yes, that was the official limit. The new guy fell for that one. But then, I looked at my class lists. Algebra one, section one: 17 students; section 2: 16 students; algebra 2: 13 students; homeroom, or FAP as they like to call it: 7 students. Grand total of 53 students. Changes my whole perspective on what the year is going to be like, and what sort of things I’ll be able to do with my classes. I had thought, at one point, about having an oral component to a test, at least once during the semester, but I had tossed that idea out because it would be impossible with 25 students. But with 13? I might be able to work that in at some point. And my piles upon piles of homework to grade? Now it’ll be just one large stack, less than 50, even if everyone hands things in. I think I’ll start off without rolling the die, I’ll start off with a homework bin, everyone’s homework goes in the bin in the beginning of class. Then, if I think it’s appropriate in a couple of weeks I’ll go to the die system. When I presented my CM plan, Ben said the die is fun, and you want to make sure you’re established first before you have fun. Even though I want to establish that my classroom is a place that we will have fun, the first priority is that we will do math. Then, as I get my footing, I can get to the point where the classroom is a place where we can have fun while doing math, and while acing the state tests.

The state tests. Maybe this is a little weird, but I am excited to be teaching a state test. First, I think I like algebra more than I liked geometry, and second, I really like the fact that I’ll be getting some measurable results. I’m an extraordinarily competitive person, and my goal is a 100% pass rate. I know at the end of the year, I’ll have more important things to celebrate than test scores – survival, the relationships I’ve built with my kids, seeing how much they have learned, independent of the tests, and maybe even a successful soccer season – but it will be nice to have something with a number on it as well.

it's a typical situation in these typical times...

too many choices...

(warning: this blog is intended more to clarrify my own thoughts about procedures than to provide interesting reading for you guys when you probably have something better to do. so if you aren't my mom, you can stop reading now. love you mom.)

we've gotten so much advice in the last two months, from professors, second years, ben, veteran teachers, books and articles, that no matter what one person may have said, you'll be sure that someone has said the opposite. exactly the opposite. which is fine, and which is why everyone makes sure to stress that what he or she is telling us is simply what worked for them (or if they are telling you something not to do, it's just what didn't work for them). Sometimes, it makes life very difficult, but I wouldn't choose to have missed out on any of the advice, because there are so many good ideas, even if I end up faced with too many choices.
For example, while trying to come up with my procedures, I've run aground when trying to determine what is going to be handed in, how it will be handed in, what will be graded and how it will be graded. I'm talking primarily about DoNow problems, classwork, and homework. Some people don't give homework. They teach english, and math is a whole different beast. I plan on assigning homework almost every night (I'll give them Friday's off). For me, it is an issue of high expectations. Everyone drills into you that high expectations are important, and so I expect students to do homework every night. It's unthinkable, to me, that a math teacher back home would not assign homework and so I'll assign homework here, for sure. but i really don't want to grade it all. and i'm lucky. because of the block setup, i'll only have at most 90 kids, more realistically 75 or 80; some people will have twice that.
but what am i going to do with the homework? when and how will i collect it, what assignments will i grade, how will i grade them (for completion, for accuracy? checks, ABC's, percents?)
My first thought was that I would have bins or folders, and when students entered the room, they'd just drop the homework in the bin for their class. Fine, but what do I do will all the homework? Just check for completion and hand it back? Grade one for accuracy?
Ms. Cornelius has a great system, in which she rolls a die at the end of the week, and whatever the die lands on, 1-4, that is the day's homework they have to turn in, and then she'll grade it. if it's a 5 she rolls again, and if it's a six, they get a freebie. That seems like a decent idea.
Ben doesn't give homework at all, but he has a great folder system. Even though I think we have very dfferent teaching styles, I think I could steal his folder. Wouldn't it be great if everyone got a folder at the begining of class that had any worksheets that they were going to do that day in it, and they put their homework from the night before in it before they left class. then, the next day, when they got their folders back, the homework would be in the back, with either a check for completion or a grade for accuracy, with the other homeworks. this folder could even, and should, include the DoNow problems, all on a seperate sheet of paper.
Hmm. Ms. Cornelius' system could have all my students waiting until Thursday night to do all the homework, which I don't want. I want a way to check so that my kids know I'll know whether they're keeping up or not. of course, i'll be able to tell in class, but they don't know that. The folder system, though, if I adapted it for homework, would give kids the chance to be working on their homework during class, while I was lecturing or while we were doing something else. If the folders were only the homework and the DoNow problems, then I could collect them after the DoNow problems were finished, but that might be really disruptive. And what about studying? I want students to be able to study from their homework. I could let them take the folders home... Thursday night to study for Friday quizzes and tests, but I don't want to send the message that you only study the night before a test, even though that's all i ever did.
Keep is Simple, Stupid.
If they actually do all their homework thursday night, fine. they'll have done it before the test/quiz. so after talking to a few other teachers in the hall (one of the only good things about living in the dorm, here's the idea. go back to the basic idea of binders, and keep the dice. don't give them any freebies. 1-4 will be monday - thursday, 5 will be the week's DoNows, and 6 will be roll again. Maybe a pair of sixes will be a freebie. that's 1/36, so probably it would happen once for one of my classes per nine weeks.

So now, my kids have binders. this was what I had been thinking about a few weeks ago. Binders. One section for notes. One section for DoNow problems. One section for homework. One section for tests/quizzes (those that I don't keep on file). One for handouts (good call dave). So, notes, handouts, DoNow, homework, quizzes. Five sections. Not unrealistic. This way, I'll only be grading, at most, 90 homework assignments per week. Should I check for completion of the rest of them? Someone suggested checking them during the quiz. Every week give them a grade for completion (20 points for each assignment completed) and a grade for accuracy, based on the one homework I take?

What about if a student is absent? This seems really tricky. But if everything is in their binders, they can get both the homework and the DoNow from someone else in the class. Handouts from me (maybe hang them on the wall under a sign (yesterday's handouts). This is fine if a student misses any day but a thursday or a friday. If Orangejello misses a Thurday, he won't have had a chance to figure out what he was supposed to do for Friday, so if a DoNow or Thursday's homework gets called, what does he do? And if he misses Friday? He has to make up the quiz or test before or after school, or during my planning period. Alright, sounds like a plan. If anyone actually reads this garbage, just stop and think of what you might have been able to accomplish during that time. You could have made your own classroom management plan.