So there's this kid, whom I suspected was trying to get under my skin from the first day. Or maybe he was just under the influence of another rabble-rowser in the class. Regardless, I was constantly re-directing, re-focusing, basically nagging this kid to get in line.
Friday he heard me talking to another kid about football, or something else relatively trivial. He called me over and said, "How come you don't talk to me like that?" My first reaction was something along the lines of "because I don't get the chance - you're always acting up" but I stuffed it down, pulled up a chair, and said, "OK, let's chat a minute." I asked him questions. He's new to this school. He's from Selma. He's older than the other kids in the class because he basically lost a year of school in juvey. "Now it's my turn," I said. "What do you mean?" "Now you ask me questions like you want to get to know me." I answered him that I was from NC, hadn't lived in AL all my life. He asked if I rooted for NC State, and I explained I wasn't allowed to, that the UNC/NCSU rivalry was much stronger when I was a kid.
It took maybe 4 minutes, and then I said, "let's get back to work, ok?" He said, "You know, Ms. Phillips, 90 minutes is a long time. You think sometimes we could just have a few minutes to look out the window or something?" I'll think about it.
Tuesday he asked about my day, asked if I thought about quitting when kids were rude, and said he was glad when I told him I thought my job too important to quit. I thanked him for being an excellent student that day, because he was.
Yesterday I told all my classes that I didn't want to see any more phones. I don't care if they're on the desk and you're not messing with them - you're still looking at them every 90 seconds to see if someone has texted or snap-chatted. It's an addiction. Put it away, and be fully present. I'd rather you were day-dreaming than looking to your phone to provide distraction.
Halfway through our block, most kids were occupying themselves on their computers (at varying degrees of productivity) while we waited for the last few to finish a test. I noticed that this young man was standing at the window, looking at the kids in the courtyard below. The bell rang to signal the end of someone else's lunch, and he said, "Mrs. Phillips! When the bell rang, those kids scattered like ants!"
"Wow, man! Listen to your analogy! That was practically poetry! Aren't you glad you weren't on your phone?"
"Yep! And aren't you glad you let me look out the window?"
I'm so glad we were both listening.
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Imagine, if you will, 32 seniors who all need Algebra 2 to graduate. A problem is presented... find the slope of the line through the two given points. There are three answers posited. A quick Plickers poll shows a pretty even split between two of the answers. Who will come work it out on the board? I ask. Aren't you going to tell us the answer? I will not. Four hands shoot up. I hand the stylus to a quiet girl from the back row. You know, I say, that I have no idea what your answer is. You might be about to put up the wrong answer. I'm ok with that, she says, and gets to work. Much yelling ensues, over subtracting a negative number, but we are all finally convinced. The girl was right. I owe Tracey ten dollars, says another girl. 17, 18 years old. Working hard to figure out 3-(-1). But working. Which gives me something to work with. We're going to be ok. Several things made today difficult. First, for first time in three years I was headed to a different school than my children attend! I kept checking myself as I drove - was I going the right way? Had I left someone behind that I was supposed to have with me? It was truly surreal. Today was also more difficult because I was in a room full of students who really didn't know me. The only kids who talked were the kids who always talk. And not knowing their names yet made it sooo much harder to cold call - especially since the ones who didn't want to be called on we're busy not making eye contact. I'm also sad because my lesson wasn't as fun as I'd hoped. We're block, and I've got three more chances at it tomorrow. The kids were fine. Nobody was beligerint or rude, or ill-behaved. Nobody talked while I was talking, but it was an eerie sort of quiet. Definitely not full-out participation, and definitely not like good-kid compliant kind of quiet. I felt like a number of them were just biding time. "Ok, lady, I'll write it down but whatever..." Not fun at all. Sigh... I'm exhausted. And it was only the first day. Plus I was ugly to my own kid. She needed parenting, and I was so tired I just scolded. Meanly. It makes me heart hurt to be this way, and makes me wonder if I have it in me to survive another year. I will, because I have to. And it will get better, because it has to. But it isn't obvious yet just how. The one bright shining moment was when a handful of my students from last year spilled out of the room next to mine. One said, "Mrs Phillips! K was the only one from our school that didn't answer any of the teacher's questions! She was the only one of us not participating! You've got to get on her!" It made me happy to know that they had arrived at high school 1) owning their learning by participating in class, 2) confident enough to speak up in math class, and 2) still looking out for each other. I just have to remind myself that there was a time those kids didn't know me either. And look how far they've come. I guess I might be able to salvage this year yet. After all, I've still got 179 days to turn it around! These are the posters I made. The quotes are blatant copies of things I saw online. I'm a little gray on this, frankly, but I'm hoping that since I am not selling them or claiming them as my own, that I'll be ok.
They look like this:
This has been an exhausting week - physically and emotionally. Monday we had Content Area Collaboration. Of 6 math teachers, 1 said he couldn't make it, 2 showed up, and 1 resigned completely. But, the 2 of us that showed up got busy. We had to set a department goal. The district sets goals for us based on the End Of Course (EOC) tests from last year. It's (96%-last year)/2 + last year so roughly "halfway to percect" from wherever you are. Since our pass rates for Alg1 were about 6% last year, that puts us just past 51% this year. HOWEVER, it's worth noting that the state-wide pass rates are only 37%. Sooooo ... we set our own goal at 30%. While that doesn't seem outlandishly optimistic at face-value, it would put us in line with the "high-performing" high schools in our district. (Wait, you ask, does that mean your district performs below the state level? Not when you figure in the middle school algebra students. Those classes are generally closer to 100 anyway. Does this suggest, you ask, that if kids aren't ready for Alg 1 in 8th grade, they really never are? THAT, friends, is the topic of another post.) Tuesday was the easily the worst PD I have ever sat through. It was titled "Successful transitions to block scheduling" or something like that, but block scheduling never really came up. It was very old-school, I thought, and wasn't at all what he needed. He gave lot of strategies, and he wasn't wrong exactly (except the time he had us turn-and-talk about the definition of "overture" and told us that was an example of a higher order thinking strategy...) He repeatedly emphasized that the handouts were not copyrighted, so I'm sure it's ok if I share this one with you: BUT my principal always tells me to try to get just.one.thing out of any PD, so I tried. My One Thing this time was something barely said in passing, but it's this: If you assign homework on Monday, and it's due Wednesday, when will they do it? Wednesday morning. If you want them to do it while the lesson is still fresh, make it due Tuesday, the day your class doesn't meet. I think I'm going to try this. I suspect I'll get some push-back from kids who says they shouldn't have to walk past my door on days they don't have my class, but I'm going to try anyway. I'll let you know. Wednesday and Thursday were more procedural things like faculty handbook. Friday, on the other hand, was designed to be Procedural Plus. See, our school is co-located with another school. We are an arts magnet, and they are a science/technology magnet. Doesn't that sound like the best of both worlds under one roof? Except it's not. We are an under-selected Title 1 school that struggles with our reputation. They are a state-level award-winning magnet. This creates a lot of tensions. Friday's PD was both faculties together, to hash out common procedures for all kinds of things - hall passes, vending machines, facility use - that had in the past caused problems because of their inconsistency. Both schools have new principals this year, and I'm excited to see how well they are working together. I'm also please to see them set the tone for how the two schools are going to cooperate. Great news: One of the History teachers stepped forward this week to say he'd taught math before and would do it again for the good of the school. Yay! It'll be a lot easier to hire a social studies teacher than a math teacher 2 days before school starts. :) I gave up my Honors Geometry class to pick up one Algebra 2 class. This is good because it lets him keep his AP Gov, and also he and I can work together. Win/win! There is SO much energy, and SO much excitement in the building, it's infectious. It's also exhausting. My room is completely void. I don't know if the teacher before me wasn't a math teacher, or if he/she took everything, but there was nothing in the cabinets but trash. Not even a single dry-erase marker. No protractors, no compasses, no books, nothing. It's frankly overwhelming. At least I still have Monday to work on turning this room into a classroom where someone would actually want to come. Where I actually want to come for the next 180 days! |
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