A Hopelessly Optimistic Student Teacher

Mean Girls

It has been over a month since I have blogged. I will remember these past weeks as a ridiculous blur of teaching, training for my half marathon, and soaking up every last second of being in college. It would take me ages to recite everything that has happened in these past weeks. Dream Vacation Unit. Parent-Teacher Conferences. Spring Break. Research Papers. Instead, I will repeat something I heard a first year teacher say, “There is a point where your honeymoon period ends.” Yes, I found that point. I don’t mean to sound pessimistic when I say this, but my honeymoon ended somewhere around the time it occurred to me that there is ALWAYS something left to do. I am a list maker, a goal setter—my planner is embarrassingly organized. I like things orderly and precise. Sometimes, though, that isn’t always practical with 120 thirteen year olds pulling you in different directions. But just like any good marriage, my honeymoon might be over—but my love for teaching is far from gone. I’m struggling with exhaustion, feeling overwhelmed, and battling with that voice in the back of my head that says, “You are failing.”  Yet, I still get up everyday and do the process all over again—always moving forward and searching for ways to improve.

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Now that I have updated you on where I am mentally, I want to tell you a story. I have started helping out with middle school track. For one reason or another, I ended up alone with a bus full of 35 middle school runners yesterday. This is one of those situations that would have terrified me two months ago. It is funny how quickly your confidence changes in such a short period of time. Anyway, I’m sitting in the front of this bus, not particularly thrilled about it. It was hot yesterday (I was burnt to a crisp by the end of the meet). The bus smelled like all buses do: that gross combination between leather seats and feet. I am listening to a group of girls behind me that I do not know. Based on the conversation I am hearing, I will tell you that I am not particularly impressed. Before I really understand what is happening, they begin picking on one of my distance runners sitting behind them. This young man is kind and usually fairly confident. However, when pounced on by four 8^th grade girls, he stops talking.

Girl One: Oh my god. What happened to your other tooth?

(Long distance runner had a tooth pulled).

Girl One with more attitude: CAN YOU EAT? DO YOU STARVE? WEIRD.

Long Distance Runner says nothing.

She keeps badgering him, and I’m trying to decide what to do in this situation. I’m not a super serious teacher—I’m usually pretty goofy. However, my students will tell you that a very serious version of myself comes out when students are deliberately hurting one another. As Girl One keeps talking, I can feel the serious Miss Meyer ready to turn around and tell this girl to stop.

Really, I’d like to turn around and tell her that in 10 years she is going to look back on this and feel like a jerk. I want to tell her that I know she is doing this out of lack of confidence in herself, and being mean isn’t going to make her feel better about anything.

Now, this happens in about 15 seconds. Right as I’m now physically turning around, another boy pipes in and tells Girl One to “Shut up.” Not the nicest choice of words—actually these are words that can get you kicked out of our classroom. However, I’m taken back by this attempt at chivalry. I stop and listen.

Girl One (not at all phased): Why? I was just asking.

Boy One: You can’t just ask something like that. You’re being rude.

This argument continues for about 15 more seconds until Girl One gets bored and finds something else to talk loudly about. I don’t know who Boy One is, but I am proud of him. Boy One is going to do nice things for our world. I turn around and look at Long Distance Runner. I roll my eyes, give him a “who-cares-about-what-she-says-look,” and smile. He smiles timidly back at me. The incident is over.

I thought this over for the rest of the bus ride. Should I have been involved in that situation? I don’t think so. What Boy One said to Girl One is much more powerful than her hearing it from me. Not to mention, Long Distance Runner would have turned a darker shade of red. No one likes it when a teacher has to come to your rescue. Sure, in some instances, it is necessary. For example, if Boy One hadn’t come to the rescue, I would have had to find my way into that conversation. I do wish I had thanked Boy One for standing up for his friend.  These situations are tough. We all know many adults that shy away from doing the right thing—and he needs to know that what he did was courageous.

There really is no “so what” to this story. Rather, this is something I am learning about each and every day. Middle school is perhaps the toughest of all school settings. I’m not joking—I am shocked on a daily basis by how students treat one another. In this situation above, I have a hard time even putting fault on Girl One. She is pressured to be someone—lack of maturity and lack in confidence resulted in the conversation that went on during our bus ride. It brings me back to the thought that there are so many things to accomplish in middle school. I’m beginning to see that kindness might need to be put at the top of that list.

Written in graffiti on a bridge in the park: Do you ever get the feeling that you are missing the mark?

MORNING TIME:

If you don’t know already, I’m kind of obsessed with Coldplay. Say what you will about the band- I don’t care. I love them with a capital L. While listening to Mylo Xyloto during my prep this morning, these words hit it dead on.

Last night, I was up until midnight getting stuff ready for school today. It isn’t so much that I’m behind, rather, things keep changing and I cannot keep up. About half of my students are done typing their final reflections for The Outsiders. Many of my students don’t have computers at home, so this is something that we take class time to do. However, that leaves about 10-15 students with nothing to do but misbehave—and even as a week six (almost) teacher I’m not optimistic enough that this situation would end well. Here is the predicament: I promised my students I wouldn’t give them busy work. There is nothing worse than meaningless homework. To put it eloquently, it just sucks. Not to mention, assigning more homework only widens the gap between my students that are finished and my students that are not. Lucky for me, today is a shortened day. And though I hate to phrase it like this, I had less time filling to figure out. This is a battle that I know I will face time and time again. Class time is precious. There is never enough of it. So creating a Jeopardy template for The Outsiders and spending the day reviewing and discussing a book we’ve talked to death… seems a little on the time wasting side. But I’m stuck in this balancing trap, ya know? I’m coming to realize that teaching should really just be called differentiating. Meaning, I am constantly trying to find the right pace to accommodate those students that are on completely different ends of the spectrum.

The good news? My students are excited about Jeopardy today. They’ve worked hard these past few weeks, and I’ll be the first one to attest they certainly deserve a little bit of a break. However, I can already feel the guilt setting in. Is today going to be meaningful for anyone? I know my students that are a little behind will be relieved, but what about the students that worked hard and got their work done? Am I doing them a disservice by taking a time out today?

EVENING TIME:

Well, I must say, I had a ton of fun today. Jeopardy turned out to be much more educational than I could have imagined. One student in particular, T—whom I’ve mentioned before—truly made it feel worthwhile. Like stated previously, this student is on a point sheet. Behavior is always a challenge, but knowing that today was going to be a little more unstructured than usual, I took a moment to fill him in before he walked into class. I told him we would be getting full points on his sheet today (I always say we, because for some reason, I feel like I’m part of that point sheet too). I know we aren’t supposed to have favorites, but let me just say this: I see something in this student that I can’t really explain. He just has so much passion… it is just a matter of channeling where that passion goes. Anyway, so I don’t bore you, I will make a long story short. As students finished typing their reflections in the library, they would trickle back into my classroom. Now, any middle school teacher knows that this situation could have been disastrous. However, during period three, T would patiently (and quietly) explain the rules of my self-made Jeopardy to his peers reentering the class. During this period, my PHENONEMAL school of education supervisor was observing me. At the end of class, I mentioned that T has some behavior issues- and he was surprised. I beamed with pride. T found leadership in my class today, and though he probably doesn’t even realize that, I couldn’t be happier about it. I cannot even help but smile as I type this now.

And this brings me back to the guilt I felt all day for playing a “game” during class. Yes, maybe it wasn’t the most meaningful 30-minute period of their lives. Yes, maybe someone might roll their eyes and say it was a waste of time. But I have 120 well thought out, proofread, typed reflections sitting next to me right now. No one was rushed. My students that don’t have access to computers at home didn’t have to stress out (which I have seen happen). And now? We are caught up and ready to start another unit. AND on top of all of that, we had fun today- and fun is important too.

 

 

The R-Word.

It has been a while since I have blogged. I don’t really know where the time goes at this point. Days blend together, lessons blend together, but luckily, my students are becoming more distinct. I am developing specific relationships with them as individuals. Whether this be the young lady in my class that continuously smiles as she listens to me read The Outsiders—or the first two students I kicked out my classroom—relationships are being established. I’m quickly discovering how incredibly delicate this process really is. If all I know of a student is that I have sent them in the hall—and all they know of me is that I am the teacher that sent them out there—Man, not exactly grounds to a budding relationship.

Feeling frustrated and unsure as I left school on Monday, I opened up a Word Document and did what makes me feel best. I wrote. I wrote a list of expectations that I have for my students. However, to parallel this, I wrote a list of expectations my students can have for me. I figured, they need and deserve to know that I am also held to certain obligations. For both of our benefits, I want them to understand that I really do think about my actions in class.

I wrote four expectations that encompassed what has been bothering me in class. Most of them were the usual—things they’ve heard a million times before. I was stern- and given many of them haven’t heard that tone of my voice yet—they listened. I should also mention my supervisor decided to stop in during this period (go figure). I’ll admit, it has been a long time since I have been nervous in front of a class, but I certainly was that afternoon.

I told them that I expect them to be quiet and ready 20 seconds after the bell rings. I told them it is their responsibility to leave their issues at the door. I told them that, I too, will be ready and organized 20 seconds after the bell rings. I will also leave my (22-year-old-oh-my-god-I’m-graduating-and-don’t-have-a-job) issues at the door. 

I told them I expect respect given to their classmates, themselves, and their teacher. I expect questions at appropriate times. I expect them to raise their hands. I expect them to do their best. I told them, I too, will show them respect. I will listen to their questions. I will acknowledge their concerns and take their suggestions. I told them I promise to start every day new, with a good attitude and a fresh slate. These things certainly aren’t rocket science—but they are what make a classroom function. If I can’t sell these beliefs to my class, I sure as hell won’t have any kind of control as a teacher.

But what I really told them—what I looked them in the eye and said—was that there will be no bullying in my classroom. I’ll be honest, I’ve seen it happen- and I handled it poorly. The balance between not drawing attention to a misbehaving student and creating a “teachable moment” is something I haven’t figured out yet. Up until this point, I would talk to students about an incident individually after class. This was also due to respecting the individual that was a victim of the bullying. I want to avoid making them feel unnecessarily uncomfortable, you know?

But, I thought, as I typed up that list on Monday night—have I ever told them as a collective group that bullying isn’t acceptable on my watch? No. No, I haven’t. Because along with my lesson planning, learning 120 names, polishing my resume, and working on my portfolio- that conversation fell through the cracks. And so I will tell you that the most important thing I said to my students on Tuesday was that bullying will not be tolerated. I looked at them and said words like “retarded, shut up, you suck,” or any other form of profanity will not be even whispered. I remember, as I said the word retarded there were some giggles. I was so frustrated at that point, that I looked them in the eye and told them why that word bothered me. I told them about my job working with children with special needs. I said that when that word is used- it personally offends me and it personally offends children that I care deeply about. And again, it was silent in the room.

In middle school, words are used so carelessly against one another. I was in middle school once, but still, I find it so shocking. Once again I am drawn back to the concept that: Yes, I’m responsible for teaching reading and writing.  However, more importantly, I am responsible for teaching how to live with one another. And before I can really truly do that—I need to make sure that how I live exemplifies the lessons that I am trying to teach. Time for some evaluating… Do I have any “R-Words” in my life?

Don’t dress like a hoochie. Among other things.

Well, with my second day of bell to bell completed, I have decided another blog is due. I had every intention of blogging yesterday, but I will admit I came home and crashed. Teaching is more exhausting than I ever imagined it could be.

In my last blog, I admitted to you that my classroom management skills feel subpar. I (triumphantly) will tell you now, that although I have much more to learn, I am starting to figure out what works for each specific period, each specific group of students, each individual that walks through my doors. For example, I know between fifth and sixth period to create a definite space between the last two desks in the third row. This may seem like an insignificant detail- but I am telling you, this prevented major catastrophe today. The two students that fill those chairs despise one another for reasons that are completely unknown to me. However, there is no doubt that those reasons are of the utmost importance to them, and so I will take them seriously and continue to arrange the desks in this manner.

Today we spent most of the class reading The Outsiders. If you don’t know much about The Outsiders, it was published by a 16 year-old girl under the name S.E. Hinton (to help hide that she was female) in 1967. S.E. Hinton is an extremely character based writer, and for this reason, my students have made tremendous connections with this novel. Yesterday we did an activity that encouraged students to do some major thinking about their own character (and the characters of their friends). At each corner of the room I pinned up a sign:

1-    Not at all important.
2-    Kind of important.
3-    Important.
4-    Absolutely, extremely, important.

I then read different characteristics based on the question: What kinds of things do you look for in a friend? Some examples are:

• What they wear.
• What grades they get in school.
• How they treat their friends.
• Where they live in town.
• Their ethnicity and culture.
• How much money they have.
• What their hobbies are.

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew that period six would have some troubles (and we did). But for the most part, the rest of the classes were incredibly impressive.

In my period three, a student that was arguing for #2- kind of important started a fiery conversation about clothing choices.

Student one: I can’t stand when girls my age come to school dressed like hoochies. But then again, I throw on a t-shirt and jeans- so I can’t really say I care about clothes much.

Now, aside from the very tactful “hoochie” description, this was a good explanation. Of course, this triggered another comment, because no one can say the word hoochie without there being some consequences.

Student Two: I’m sorry, but just because I wear shorts and a tank top does not mean I dress like a hoochie. It gets hot in this school.

Okay, yes. Time for me to intervene.

Me: I don’t think she necessarily meant that shorts and tank tops make you, as you call it, a hoochie. Rather, dressing “appropriately” means different things to different people.

Maybe I should have banned the word hoochie in my classroom. However, this is a situation where I decide to choose my battles. Not to mention, there is no doubt that these young ladies were onto something…

WHY? Why don’t we want to have friends that dress inappropriately, disrespect other cultures, or bully others? In the words of one of my students, “because then people start to assume you are that way too.”

Bingo. What this particular group of students uncovered yesterday was something that even college students fail to understand. We are defined by our friends. In the words of another wise student, “Sometimes, you end up acting like your friends without meaning to. You spend so much time with them- you end up doing what they do.”

These students are thirteen. THIRTEEN. Incredible, right? I got to thinking about that. As I meet new educators, enter new school districts- hell, just go out into the world- this lesson is an important one. Even now, when I get bogged down by negativity, or pressured into supporting something that I don’t necessarily think is right- how often do I stop and think: Emily, why are you feeling this way? Why are you doing what you are doing? I’ll be honest, not often enough. So here is another gentle reminder from my thirteen year-olds: Whether good or bad, those that surround us will define us.

Sometimes I think they should be the one in front teaching me.

What do we do? We swim, swim.

I could have used Dory’s advice today. In my first post, I referred to this blog as my “raw, unedited, and incredibly naïve experiences as a (less than) first-year teacher.” And so, friends, I will admit to you that these past few days have had some very rough moments.

As I have learned, those first few minutes in which each class is beginning are sacred. They make or break a class. They set up the productivity, the attitude, and the atmosphere for the rest of those 40-some minutes: and I feel like I’m failing miserably. I will be honest, I’ve been in many middle schools at this point in my undergrad- and I’ve never seen such a chatty group of students. The concept of raising hands is more or less nonexistent- at least when I am in the front. Now, I know to some extent that I am being put under a microscope and examined by a 120 thirteen year-olds. What am I going to tolerate? What are my rules? My expectations? Of course, in their brains, it’s more like- “What is this short, young-looking teacher going to be dumb enough to let me get away with?” Okay, so maybe that is an exaggeration. Maybe I’m being cynical because I feel like I have spent the past few days playing referee instead of actually teaching anything worthwhile. In any case- the fact that 75% of my students tower over me doesn’t help my authority (or lack their of).

But I digress, my main point here: I’ve got a lot of figuring out to do. I called my mom today feeling more or less defeated and ready to change professions (not really- but I was being dramatic) and after a long rant and an even longer run- the haze lifted and my optimism settled back in.

Because I have some choices to make. I can let the “bad” moments of these past few days take over. I can let them swallow me whole. And believe me, that sometimes feels like an easier option. Facing the fact that this isn’t coming as easy to me as I would like doesn’t exactly sit well with me.

But then, I was thinking as I did the dishes (a chore I’ve come to find as very meditating) -not all of these past few days have been bad. For example, I have a student on a “point sheet” for his behavior. I had to talk to him multiple times yesterday- and he lost quite a few points. I wasn’t mad- or even annoyed. I was disappointed. I know this young man is not only capable of behaving in an appropriate manner- but he is a bright young student with a fabulous sense of humor. How could I get him to understand that I want him to succeed- not for me, but for him? I talked to him one-on-one. If there is one thing I have learned in the world of middle school it is that: individual. is. key.

Me: T, I had to ask you to keep your comments to yourself quite a few times today. I cannot give you full points for that category. You also disrupted the rest of the class, so I have to take points off for that too.

T: I know you do.

Me: Listen, I know you are more respectful than that. Can we get full points tomorrow? You can do it, T. I’ve seen you do it.

T: Yes, okay.

I’m not joking. I bet I got 6 words out of T during that conversation. But there wasn’t attitude, his response was sincere. T meant it. And do you know what? He came to class today and disrupted me one time. I knelt by his desk and reminded him of our conversation. He was perfect the rest of the class. Raised his hand. Completed his work. Participated. He received every “point” in Language Arts today- and as I noticed, that hadn’t been the case in his previous classes. I’m not saying I’ve got T figured out. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. Not to mention, I’ve got 119 other students that I have lots to learn about. But this was a small victory. I was so genuinely happy to fill out that score sheet today. T thanked me- but really, it didn’t have much to do with me at all. He just lived up to the expectations that he was told he could.

And so I will take this tiny little fraction of my day- and remember that I didn’t get frustrated. I didn’t get annoyed, or angry, or mad. I reiterated the expectations for T. So why am I not doing that for myself? Tomorrow: I will be optimistic. I will be patient. I will learn from my mistakes. I will remember, I have a lot to learn. And that’s okay.

“Miss Meyer, do you love peace on earth?”

I was asked this today. My response, a dignified, “ummm, what?” surely impressed my 13 year old students.

Student One: Yeah, you know, like peace. Peace on earth.

Student Two: I mean, you just kind of dress like it. Your headbands and wavy hair. You just seem…

Me: Like a hippie?

Student Two: No, well, not exactly…

Me: Huh. Well is it a bad thing?

Student Two: No, no. Its a good thing. Really good.

For so many reasons, it was interesting that they confronted me about this today- of all days. You see, the more I spend with 13 year-old students, the more I realize how much their world is about perception. (The oh-so-scholarly dictionary.com defines perception as “immediate or intuitive recognition or appreciation, as of moral, psychological, or aesthetic qualities.”) Intuitive. Aesthetics. Immediate. YES. These are my students. That’s why, I know that their question was of sincere interest. If it was a bad thing- they would have told me. Or at the very least, they would have done a horrible job lying about it.

And I’ll be honest, I felt very complimented by their observation. Sure, to some extent they were basing this off of my outward appearance. However, their observation was quite accurate. The older I get, the more I find myself drawn to this idea that my 13 year-olds phrase, “peace on earth.”

The main reason, though, that I was sincerely humbled by their question was this: Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I found out that two Johnston adolescents took their own lives over the weekend. Even still, I am having a difficult time comprehending this. I couldn’t sleep. At one point, I really thought I was going to be sick thinking about it. All day, these two young men, that I have never met or probably even seen- have been in my heart and on my mind. Who are they? Sons. Students. Brothers. Friends. Family. Loved Ones. And why? WHY. WHY. WHY. I am not unlike the rest of the community in asking these questions- and they are not profound in anyway. Yet, I have thought about them continuously for hours.

I am quite certain this news struck me the way it did because I have 120 students that are not far from the age that these two young men were. The responsibility of my job hit me today. I am not just a teacher- and my students are not just students. They too, are sons and daughters, siblings, friends, family, loved ones, athletes, artists, —humans. Living, breathing, developing individuals. It occurred to me today that I cannot control the world outside of my classroom walls— but I can control was happens inside of them. For the first time, ever, it occurred to me what the consequences might be of a student slipping through the cracks. I was blown away by this realization. I am reminded of my time in El Salvador- and the power of human interaction. A quote, one of my very favorites, comes from Thomas Merton’s Letter To A Young Activist:

“Gradually, you struggle less and less for an ideal, and more and more for specific people. Because in the end, it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything.”

There will be so many things to accomplish in my classroom. The standards set by the state seem to be never ending- the learning will never be finished, the job will never be done. I often become very caught up in the deadline, the goal- the final check list. I’m beginning to realize that teaching isn’t always about that. It is about creating curriculum that is purposeful and perpetuating the concept that discovery (no matter how old) is without end. …But most importantly- teaching is providing that safe space, where all are respected, welcomed, and loved.

The Pilot

I’ve never blogged before. I’ve thought about starting one a million times- but assuming I had anything worth writing about always seemed more than a little presumptuous.

However, last week it occurred to me that here I am, finally student teaching- something I’ve been thinking about for 3 and half years- and I’m not recording any of it. As I complete the final task of my undergraduate degree, I can’t imagine a more important time to record my daily thoughts, actions, and trials. I am a firm believer that metacognition inspires some of our deepest growth as individuals. Not to mention, I expect my 7th grade students to learn from their writing- how hypocritical for me not to do the same!

So here we go. Welcome to my raw, unedited, and incredibly naïve experiences as a (less than) first-year teacher. I can only hope to look back on these posts one day and laugh. 

First thing is first, the details:

• I teach at a very culturally diverse middle school in the heart of the country. Mrs. M, my mentor teacher has been teaching for 42 years.  We see 120 students on a daily basis. We teach 6 out of 7 periods everyday. We arrive at school at 7 and often don’t leave until well after 4pm. Mrs. M is spunky, well-traveled, has an incredible wealth of teaching experience, and I am unbelievably lucky to have her.
  

• In addition to student teaching, I am also tutoring an 8th grade student from Somalia. He is a fabulously motivated individual. In fact, he sought me out without any prompting from school officials. We meet two days a week- but sometimes he unexpectedly arrives for an impromptu tutoring lesson. For the sake of privacy, we will call him A.

• My student teaching began on January 17th and concludes on May 4th. I begin my “bell to bell” teaching on February 6th. “Bell to bell” means no more Mrs. M in the classroom to assist me. I’m incredibly excited- but sincerely hoping 7th grade attitudes don’t eat me alive.

From what I have discovered so far: 7th graders are incredibly unfiltered, brutally honest, and more or less completely self-absorbed creatures. I love them all. Their honesty can be painful- but most of the time, I find it undeniably refreshing. Penetrating the attitude of a 7th grader is, most of the time, just short of impossible. However, when victory is found, when the layer of “I’m too cool to acknowledge you” is peeled away- a special kind of adolescent is discovered. An adolescent that doesn’t have all the answers- but recognizes all the problems. An adolescent that lives in a world where the most minute details seem life changing. An adolescent that craves consistency, acceptance, and most of all- praise. These moments are few- but they remind me why I love the crazy world of middle school.

More on Monday. 

The giving of love is an education in itself.  -Eleanor Roosevelt