January 30, 2007
Mixed feelings...
So it seems that a certain assistant administrator has it in for me. If it is not recommended that I keep my job next year (meaning: I'll have to find a new school), it will not be because of an observation gone bad. My advising administrator has yet to come into my classroom. It will be because I am supposedly unaware of policies, because my school is vandalized through some fault of my own. That, and the fact that I don't know that a broken bell that goes off at random times means that I can't let the kids out when the schedules says is dismissal time.
Whatever, on the upside, two of my kids who do nothing did all their work today.
January 27, 2007
My boyfriend's back and you're gonna get a trouble...
So I bombed today. I came up with a plan to teach isotopes: the kids would create a comic strip as an analogy. They were to save the world from unstable atoms!
Right.
So that blew up in my face. I did it for two periods in a row, only to get exit slips that answered the question "what is an isotope?" with "protons". (By the way, isotopes are elements with different numbers of NEUTRONS in their nucleus).
For 6th period, I completely scrapped it. They're hard to handle anyway (despite their steady/sporadic improvement). Since they had lost their activity privileges the previous class period, I decided I'd try them again. While outside, they decided they couldn't handle the freedom and went crazy.
As I stood out there, the dean of discipline (with whom my students have linked me romantically) escorted one of my "favorite" students out to meet me. I was in the middle of reprimanding my students, when he approached us and said "Wow, you have a lot of my favorite students in here. I saw four of them today."
Thanks. Really, thank you LAUSD for putting the school's finest in my largest and craziest class.
Then, he went to work on them.
"Why are you giving Ms Castro a hard time? I've been watching her out here from my office with two of her classes. They were all having fun learning and you guys had to ruin it. Stand up straight and get in line."
We then shared some jokes about our good students ("Watch out for that one, she's trouble" about my only A student).
I hoped this class hadn't picked up on some of the things he said (like, "I've been watching her") as this is the group that started the rumors.
So they did eventually do the activity, but it was ruined promptly and we returned to the classroom to do some book work.
About 10 minutes into it, one of my girls got distracted and held up her folder for me to see. It stated her love for her boyfriend.
"Awww," I replied (sarcastically), "It's nice that he loves you."
My kids were surprised that I was in on their personal lives (I don't have one, so I have to live vicariously through them).
"How do you know that, Miss?"
"I see him walk her to class everday!"
"Oh, like Mr. Lopez walks you to class? Or does he walk you to your car after school?"
Damn.
Oh well, there are worse things in life than having the dean of discipline as your make believe boyfriend. Especially when he can get my kids in line at the drop of a hat.
January 23, 2007
Lockdown: the South Central musical
For forty minutes today, I was terrified. Well, scratch that - not quite terrified, but worried at least. At around 2 p.m. today a nervous B.M.S principal announced over the PA system that we were under lockdown. All staff and faculty were to get inside immediately and lock the doors.
Lucky for us, the kids had been gone (most of them, except those in the after-school program) for almost an hour, but a lockdown usually means guns and violence and who knew which kids (if any) would be roaming around on the grounds.
We were in the middle of a professional development session on summarizing strategies (ie how to teach my children to read), and tried to continue like business as usual. It was difficult for me to concentrate with the random sirens that sounded close to the school and to the frequent sounds of helicopters flying over.
While we discussed the text we were examining, I asked one of the veteran teachers if this happened frequently.
"No, this is the first time since I've been here."
A rush of relief (even though I still didn't have details) flooded through me. That is, until the other veteran history teacher chimed in:
"No, this is like the fourth or fifth."
Well, then.
Finally, the principal came in and explained that a man had been shot two blocks away from the school. He had made his way onto campus to find help, thus setting off the alert and putting the lockdown into effect. The police had set up a perimeter around the school, and we were to stay in the room until further notice.
To top it off, we were supposed to be holding an Open House for all parents starting at 4 p.m., and the district hadn't decided to let us cancel it.
Oh yeah, what a great way to welcome parents:
"Don't mind the crime tape - it's a new investment strategy we're trying. The school doesn't feel enough like a prison, what with it's bars and self-locking doors. Oh, and the blood? It's a biology experiment."
Thankfully, around 3 p.m. they cancelled it (and asked us to vacate the premises 25 minutes later). I've never heard teachers whoop in the halls of a middle school like children. I've never seen teachers dance with joy and giddiness in the hallways of a school.
Wow, what a stereotypical, yet atypical, day in South Central.
January 21, 2007
Only barefoot or wearing sandals...
I've had several unsuccessful teaching moments, most of which have been unmemorable. My days of repeating the same lesson using 4 different approaches are far from numbered. I think Friday, though, was one of those memorable days in which I realized how much my kids had been cheated in their education.
My fifth period had amazed me lately. I'd been absent two days because of illness and had gotten really positive sub reports. To top it off, they'd taken a quiz on atomic structures and scored a 79% average (that was 10-100s, 10-80s, and only 7 below that).
However, when the time came to teach them electron orbitals it all kind of fell apart. I have several theories regarding their lack of success in this department. The first was my approach, it wasn't engaging (not going to lie), and that's because I learned it that way. The second theory is that in order to place the electrons in their proper orbitals one must be able to subtract small numbers.
I'm not picking on my students when I say this. I know for a fact that when given a paper and pencil, they can subtract in a matter of seconds. But when asked on the spot ("What's 10 - 6"), they often resort to using their fingers. After showing them what I expected them to do, I walked around the room to monitor their progress. They had to fit 2 electrons in the first shell, 8 electrons in the second shell, and 18 in the third shell. The only problem was, whenever they had an odd number of electrons (read: they didn't fill the shells) it all fell apart. The first two were easy enough ("I know what 13 - 2 is, Miss.") but anything after that was just plain difficult. At one point I had to borrow six extra fingers from another student (damn sulfur) to get one of my slower students to understand the process.
What happened to that subtraction standard from back in the first grade? At this point, my kids should be able to do that in their heads (along with basic multiplication, addition, and division with fractions). It's no wonder they find my class so difficult. Anyone with basic math skills would understand the concept of speed (s=d/t), they would understand forces (f = m x a), and they would know how many of Sulfur's electrons would fit in the last orbital after using up the first two (16-10 = 6).
Not only is it unfair to expect them to catch up after 7 years of falling behind; to compete with others who have had a satisfactory education, it is ridiculous to punish them for their inability to do so. Maybe my kids would be more invested in their educations if they weren't shuffled around like inmates every morning. If they had extracurricular activities that demonstrated to them the glorious opportunities offered by education. It's not their fault that they're behind, and it's about time the adults owned up to their misdeeds. The educational system has done nothing but fail them for the last 9 years, so they feel no obligation towards it.
Maybe if we teach them to add and subtract when they're six, we won't have to put all of our financial resources towards catching them up when they're 13. Maybe if they learn to read when they're in kindergarten, they can take art and computers instead of "Creative Expression" and "Space Science" when they're in middle school. Maybe if we all just did our job, our kids wouldn't hate us so much for shoving education down their throats.
Then again, maybe I'll just have to wear sandals through the rest of this unit.
January 08, 2007
Back on track, yet somehow derailed...
So it's been an entire month since I added anything to this blog. As I'm using it primarily to discuss my teaching I haven't had much to report in the six weeks we were off track.
It's funny that such an appropriate term was given to describe our six-week intervals of vacation. While it might seem like a favorable (and necessary) break, it only causes chaos when you're trying to catch kids up on the 7 weeks worth of material they missed at the beginning of the semester. Our semester technically ended on November 11, but there was still so much left to cover.
So now that I'm back on track, I feel less prepared for my students than when I first started. Not only have they forgotten almost everything we covered in the first semester (which is great since the state exam is cumulative), but their teacher isn't 2 weeks fresh off the job at one of the craziest middle schools in Watts.
I feel inadequate and most of that's my own fault. No one told me to galavant around the world over break or spend several days lounging about my parents' house in Phoenix. I should have had the entire semester planned out when I returned, and instead, I've been cramming what I can into the last two weekends.
I gave the kids off-track homework, and like their teacher, they didn't do it. And while I didn't meet my own expectations, I feel like a hypocrite for reprimanding them.
So now, as I beat myself up over my mistake, I've realized that I can't really hold my kids to those high expectations until I expect it from myself.
On an entirely unrelated note, I got sick this weekend and took my second sick day of the year.... Let's see how tomorrow goes.
Continue reading "Back on track, yet somehow derailed..."
November 19, 2006
In loving memory
I'm having a difficult time starting this entry. Not because I don't know what to say, but it hurts to think about it; because writing it down makes it true. I'm having trouble writing this, because after the day I've had, I should be sleeping, but then I might start to hope that this was all a nightmare.
I come from a huge Mexican family, where cousins, aunts, and uncles are all considered immediate family. If you think about it that way I have 28 brothers and sisters. We all grew up together (with the exception of the younger ones), and I am closer with my cousins than with any friends I've ever had.
So imagine, after a weekend of Vegas activities, hearing that one of your brothers has died. Scratch that. That one of your brothers has been murdered in cold blood at a party. That while you were out at a club acting like a fool, your brother was bleeding to death from gunshot wounds. And worse, it was because he was mistaken for someone else.
His name is (was) Cirilo, but we called him "Guero (Weh do)" because his skin was fair and he had hazel eyes. When he was little his parents (my uncle is his dad) split up. His mom found another husband and had a half-dozen kids, leaving no room for him. So he moved from relative to relatives' houses, and was finally sent to live with his uncle and aunt on his mother's side. Despite the mess he did his best and graduated high school last May - on time with his own class.
We didn't see him often, but when we did he was our cousin. He had a place with us, laughed and joked with us, and was loved by all of us. He was my little brother's age, and they had gotten closer as they got older - even though they didn't see each that much.
What makes this even more difficult is that he is the first Castro to pass away since my brother, Ruben, 15 years ago.
As I write this, I remember that Thanksgiving is coming oh so close, and it makes me think of how last year he spent his first Thanksgiving with us. He hugged every single relative - even the ones that I don't hug - and talked about how excited he was to graduate.
It also makes me think of my kids, and how I've just finished my first semester as a Teach for America Corps Member. I joined this program to help close the achievment gap, because I saw what happened to kids whose educations were less than adequate. Because I saw my 100% of my cousins graduate, but completely different statistics in others. But I believe, and I have to in order to keep myself going on a daily basis, that I can change that. That I can have an impact on my kids so that they know what an education can do for them. And it makes me angry, it makes me furious, that regardless of how many of my kids I can get through high school they're still not safe.
They can try their hardest and get through the system, but they don't always have the power to get through their neighborhoods. Guero wasn't killed because he was a gangbanger - he wasn't. He wasn't killed because he was dealing drugs. He was a casualty of his surroundings, and that is something my kids can't fight on their own.
I'm angry because he is my kids. The kids in the middle who fight their own battles in the educational system, and win without much ado from teachers.
So now, as I pack my bags to go home for Thanksgiving, I also pack other bags that I'll carry on my shoulders long after I unload my car at home. I'll carry the heavy load of a person who has endured loss and doesn't know how to cope with it. I'll carry the load of a teacher who sees what can happen even when the educational battles are won. I'll carry the load of a mission that must be completed, regardless of the possible outcomes.
November 12, 2006
Freedom!
So it's been a while since I last blogged. Since then, so many things have happened at Bethune Middle School that it would take an excessive amount of time to write about them. But I'm now off-track (my semester is over until January) and have a little extra time to spare.
Since October 17, I've won several battles and have lost less. I've discovered that some of my students literally can't read. I've chaperoned a Halloween dance (I used the phrase "come back when you learn some dance steps" with a train - ugh - of grinding middle schoolers). I've helped with the set up of an extravagant haunted house, and dressed up for the first time since middle school. I've been asked "Miss, will you go to the dance with me?" by a 7th grader (and followed that up with a "No, I will not. And I think that's illegal.")
I've also been the subject of rumors and whispers, which were (of course) started by my children. It began when a certain disciplinarian and I were seen speaking on the PE field where I was covering a class. According to the students, the longer we spoke, the closer we moved towards one another. Um... First of all, a noisy PE field is a diffiult place to hold a conversation. Secondly, we were discussing a specific student's behavior and , as I mentioned, my kids are pretty nosey.
After that, the kids asked me if I'd ever considered going out with him. As I don't make it a habit to discuss my personal life with middle schoolers, I ignored them. Over the last few weeks the rumor has grown. What I thought was a speculation started by two girls in my homeroom has spread into every single class period.
I actually think it's pretty amusing. Now, when the kids misbehave, I just threaten to send them to see my boyfriend. :) It could be worse... The kids could see me embracing a fellow coworker. Oops, too late. (That's another entry for another day).
In this time another one of my students was "opportunity transferred." I hate to say I'm glad to see her go, but I know she was getting nowhere at our school. Every day was fight after fight with other girls. She didn't do any work, riled up my class at times, and had a file a mile long - but I still really liked her and hoped she'd come around. I'd given her responsibilities in class - she was powerful and the other kids listened to her.
My favorite memory has been completely non-academic. In my third period scientific drawing class, I have a student who is easily the cutest child on the planet. He's also the student who asked me to the dance. Anyway, I've said over and over that he could and should be on TV.
One day, this special little boy did what I'd been waiting for someone to do. On my lab bench are a whole bunch of different apparati to be used in science demonstrations. Unfortunately, none are hooked up so they're really just there for show. One apparatus is a hose attached to a shower-head nozzle. the hose is about 5 feet long, so it can be pulled out. Well, my dear boy thought it really resembled a microphone and chose to start singing in front of my lab bench. He made up a song on the spot about love and other gooshy stuff. It was great. He then jumped on top of my bench (which brought his 4 foot frame up to about 7 feet) and proceeded to sing to me. I know a real teacher thing to do would have been to yell at him to get down from the bench. Instead, I rolled around behind my desk, laughing my ass off. You have to pick your battles.
By the way, did I mention I'm on vacation??!?!??!?!