Maybe It Was Idealism

When I was student teaching at a mostly-suburban school, one particular teachers-workroom lunch conversation focused on the movie The Freedom Writers and how unrealistic it was.  The most vocal of the teachers were, naturally, the most outspoken.  How idealistic it was.  How glamorized.  How Hollywood.

Maybe they were right about the glamor.   There is nothing glamorous about teaching.

But they had no idea.  They spoke out of ignorance.  They criticized something they knew nothing of.

The first day of teaching in an inner-city school, my first class soon proved to be the most challenging.  There was a knot of 5 or 6 boys who came in and immediately moved my desks, if they sat in desks at all.  (In case you're not aware, teachers are pretty particular about their desk arrangement.)  Even now, remembering that class makes me shiver.

There were some dark days, that first semester.  Luckily, I had 3rd hour plan, and for that I was thankful.  But... I always consoled myself that my day wasn't possibly as bad as Erin Gruwell's.   Was that idealistic?  On my part, possibly.  But the experience as a whole was very, very real, and it was not so different from hers.  There were other teachers at the school who had a worse time, for a longer period.

But the parallels didn't stop with student behavior.  Midway through the movie, Gruwell wants to get her students books to read.  She looks in the children's section.  The most popular book in my class was The Magic School Bus in Space (Half-Price Books, $1.50).

On another occasion, Gruwell asks her class who knows what the Holocaust was.  One student raises his hand... the white kid.

Last spring, after the stress of the EOI, and after team planning disintegrated and we pretty much did our own thing (much to our own relief, I think), I decided to teach Number the Stars, a short book about a Danish family who smuggles their Jewish friends to Sweden during Nazi occupation.  Before I started the book with my classes, I asked how many of them knew what the Holocaust was.

One student raised her hand.

I never really got over the voids I saw.  I just taught.  I stopped giving my students journal assignments about their heroes.  They explained that they don't have any; they learned long ago that heroes let you down.

Gruwell's students visited a Holocaust museum, read Anne Frank, and found in Anne and Miep Gies, heroes.

My students read and watched different accounts of the Holocaust and wrote about who they found to be bravest, and why it mattered to them.  I wish I'd kept those essays.

But the real similarity I see - the one that really matters, and the one that those other teachers see, too, but might not appreciate to the same degree - is not behavior, or curriculum, or achievement gaps.  It's transformation.

I squeezed paragraphs and essays out of kids who didn't think they had five words to share.

I've seen my kids in other classes... they can be monsters.  I've had teachers (albeit only a few teachers) come up to me with the cliched, "I see you have HIM in your class... hah."  At which point, I smile sweetly and say, "Yes, he's my best leader - really charismatic."  And it's true.  That "gang-banger" the teacher was referring to WAS my best leader (once channeled properly) and was the one who periodically felt the need to shout, "Shut up, fools, Ms. B is trying to teach!"

Another girl celebrated her first anniversary in the US in April.  Her English is severely limited, but she had enough words to write, "This is my favorite class.  I feel like home here."

Is this idealistic?  Perhaps. But the experience is real - very, very real.

Reading Rant

I am a 10th Grade English teacher.

I am helping one of my students read Frog and Toad Together in the first 10 minutes of class while other students work on the warm-up activity.

In case it's been a while since you ventured into this section of the bookstore, here is a page of the book:

We read it twice in class if there's time, and then she takes it home to read to her little sister twice that night. The next day, we read the next two pages. Although we have trouble with "then" and "them" and "there," she hasn't complained once.  Oh, and "he."  H's are difficult, it seems.

10th grade and reading a level-two picture book?  It may sound like she is a special-needs student.

On the contrary, there is absolutely nothing wrong with her. She is extremely bright; she just can't read. And English is her second language. She's been here since kindergarten.

So my question is:  WHAT was her kindergarten teacher doing?

Okay, fine, she had 24 other students all learning to read, most of whom actually understood English vowels, etc, and this girl might have been completely lost.

If that's the case, WHAT was her 1st grade teacher doing?  By 1st grade, half the students have advanced to basic levels of reading, and only half - or fewer - are still struggling.  Fewer demanding immediate and undivided attention.

May I remind you, this student still mixes up 'm' and 'n' sounds?

WHERE WAS HER 2ND GRADE TEACHER?  A 2nd grade student struggling with sounds should be a red flag to every single person who comes in contact with her during the school day.

This might be an appropriate time to mention that a child's 3rd grade reading level is the single most important predictor of his/her future success in school and in the rest of life.

How did this child make it through 9 years of school without someone intervening?  Why didn't someone shake Mom's hand (who, by the way, IS one of the few parents who comes to parent-teacher conferences) and explain that her daughter needs to stay after school for 15 minutes every day so she can, like, oh yeah, LEARN HOW TO READ?  Language barrier?  Get a translator.  There is at least one person in the building who can explain.

And finally, lest you be reading this and feeling smug about the flaws in our education system:

When was the last time YOU darkened the door of a school building to read a few minutes once a week with one student?  Or did you forget that 1 in 10 high school dropouts is enjoying your tax dollars in the state penal system, and the rest are most likely on some form of welfare?

Can you afford to ignore these kids?

Okay, yes, you're right.  It IS the teachers' job to teach kids to read.

And, yes, that's what I'm doing, so you're off the hook... this time.

But if I don't take the time, and you don't take the time, who will?  Honestly, who will?

I teach 10th grade.  I'm not even certified to teach reading; nor was it part of my coursework.

Would I be justified if I just passed her on?  At this point, yes I would.  I'd just be another of the approximately 26 teachers who already had her in one of their classes.  If she's passing the test with at least a 60% (which, magically, she does), why hold her?  Would she magically learn to read in that extra year?  Doubtful.

For whatever reason, nine years of teachers failed my student.

Her future is at stake.

Can you ignore it?