Ready or Not

I am tired. It’s March. Students are bored and teachers can’t yet see how we’re going to reach the final goal. I’m behind on my grading, and my planning, and my meeting preparation. I’m behind on my sleep.

I’m trying to remember how it was when I started this year. How enthusiastic I was, and full of energy. I’m also thinking of how hard I’ve been working. I am thinking of one student in my first period English class. We began on a very bad footing, because this child had a rough start in high school. He caused problems in every class he had, he was refusing to work, and spent a lot of time in the office. When he first came to my class he would not look at me. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this student could not read AT ALL. His misbehavior in school was his way of getting out of class, so he wouldn’t have to perform (especially in front of his peers). He was hiding his illiteracy behind a façade of anger and hate. He was one I targeted for help. He needed it.

He still needs help. Although he works in my class, and greets me by name when he comes in, and even stays after school sometimes for extra help, he is still often in trouble with other teachers. He is performing poorly in their classes. He might not make it to tenth grade. That’s really scary, because he’s already 16. If we don’t convince him it’s worth staying in school he could leave before he’s mastered the basic skills needed for the basic jobs. I have had some success with this one child because I’ve developed a relationship with him. I know that he had to give up a puppy he loved. I know his mother’s first name and cell phone number. We smile at each other, sometimes. I trust him, he trusts me, and we celebrate our success together when he masters something in English class.

I heard a talk by Reginald Farrare, a middle school principal in my county. He offered a good insight into what teaching should be. He said, “If the student is only with you for one year, make it the best year of their life.” That’s my goal, for each of my students. It’s driving all my efforts with this student, the one who can’t read, but who’s smart enough to know how hard life is if you can’t read. He’s developed strategies to avoid his problem. I’ve got to teach him strategies for dealing with his problem. In this one year. Which is almost over.

I may be tired, but I am still enthusiastic. I’m not done yet. Happy Spring!

Posted by at 12:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

It is “interim report” time, so I have to evaluate if my students have made progress the first half of the quarter. The process lets the students (and their parents) know if they are in danger of failing, or are making satisfactory progress.

It’s a good time for me to evaluate myself, too. I have tried to think about how my teaching is going. Am I successful, or in danger of failing? Am I doing a good job?

I want to review my seashell lesson (see “Collecting”). My English 9 students were allowed to choose a shell, then had to compare it to their “true love”, real or imagined. Was her cheek as smooth as the shell’s curve? Was he rough on the outside, and shimmering inside? Is true love a treasure to be found when you least expect it? The students came up with some good ideas, and most seemed to “get it”.

Some students complained, but once they started talking about the imagery they could use they started writing. Selecting the seashell to write about was a bigger event than I had expected. All of the students wanted to keep their shell. I hadn’t thought of it before, but I think the students felt they’d gotten a gift from me.

When my World Civilizations students came in second period, they saw the basket of shells and wanted to know about them. Since they were tenth graders, I asked if they could remember the imagery of sonnets from ninth grade English. They could, and seemed to like the idea of comparing Juliet to the seashell. They asked if they could have a shell, too. Since they were having a test, I offered each one shell to hold as a ‘good luck charm”. Every student took one. And said thank you.

Another teacher asked me later what I was doing with seashells. She’d heard students talking about it. So I think it was a good lesson. If students are talking about a class, they are thinking.

My main goal as an educator is to keep students thinking, and to try to develop their thinking processes to higher levels. If carrying a seashell in your pocket the rest of the day helps, I’ll go to the beach and pick some up once a year for a lesson in Shakespearean imagery. I’ll give them away, knowing that with each shell I’m giving a little learning. It’s a gift from me to my students.

That’s my interim self-evaluation. I’m doing a good job.

Posted by at 5:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)