Small victories

Happy Friday! Sometimes, as a teacher, the small victories can make you really happy. Here are a few from this week:

1. One of my students, whose grade is literally around a 15 for the quarter, has been more focused this week, and today actually had his reading homework done and then CRUSHED IT with his classwork.

2. One of my girls kept her behavior under control today and was laser-focused on her work, and when I told her how much better she did today, she had such a great smile on her face.

3. A student who is both on an IEP and is an ESL (English as a Second Language) is really into the book we are reading (Waiting for Snow in Havana). Spanish is his first language, so he feels a connection with this Cuban author and loves when the author uses some Spanish. The other day, this boy was a star participant in class, and earned 2 merits for this (I usually only give a student 1 merit per class).

4. My co-teacher and I have been trying to get the behavior of one of our students under control, and so he's been earning a lot more demerits lately. He was definitely pissed about this, and made a lot of noise about it. But I think (I hope) it might finally be clicking for him. Today he did earn a demerit for talking across the room when he was supposed to be working with a partner, but when I told him he had a demerit he just said "okay" in a way that conveyed he knew he had been doing something wrong, and then he refocused on his work. His focus wasn't constant during class, but it was definitely much better and he was more productive. I made sure to tell him at the end of class that though there is still room for improvement, I was happy with how much better he did, and he was pleased to hear this.

5. When I gave my sophomores some classwork the other day, they all got right down to work and were silent basically the entire time. No need for reminders and shushing from me, no demerits. I couldn't believe it! I gave the whole class a merit for that. Now I just need to work on getting them to focus/behave that well all the time.

Determination

I have this awesome student in one of my senior classes. She is a bright, kind, and conscientious young lady who is great at participating in class, and she led an awesome EdCafe last term. However, last term she also struggled with her writing, and ultimately earned a C+ for term 2. Her mom talked to me about how disappointed both of them were, but said her daughter was putting everything she had into the paper that was due today, determined to do well. The student had also conferenced with me the day before, and really worked to make sure she understood the revisions I was asking her to make.

They turned their papers in today, and since the conversation with the mother was still on my mind, I decided to grade the girl's paper while the students worked quietly on an assignment. Once school ended, I called her over and showed her the B+ grade she had earned. She bounced with happiness, saying with a big smile on her face that she was going to go tell her mom.

This is what happens when students don't give up, when they turn their disappointment into determination, when they choose to learn from their mistakes. The grade may not have been an A, but that's irrelevant--she had made such a great improvement over her last essay and demonstrated that she had truly learned something, so it was a victory.

Happy days

I am now a month into my new job, and the verdict is in: I am happy. Six months ago things were tough, but it was also scary to think about having to make a change. They say, "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know," right? Plus, I loved so many of my students and it was tough to think of leaving them behind (I miss a number of them terribly). But even though this is just a half-year long-term sub position, I'm so happy to be where I am, and I think that, in the long run, this is going to be a positive transition year for me.

My students rock. I've dealt with a lot of student apathy in the past, and it's been frustrating, but most of these kids show up prepared and get their work done. In addition, discipline issues are almost non-existent. It's nice to feel less like a babysitter and more like a teacher. Thus far I have not had to write anyone up or send anyone out of class, and the students have been quite respectful of me. As a result, I feel that I have a much more positive energy in the classroom this year. Part of that is also a conscious effort on my part--I keep reminding myself to give praise more often and to encourage them to keep up the good work, as well as to tell them how excited I am to do an activity with them or to see the work they've done.

Yesterday, my senior classes did Socratic Circles. For those of you who aren't familiar, a Socratic Circle is, in a nutshell, a student-led discussion that they prep notes for ahead of time. These Socratic Circles came at the end of our unit "Genocide in Literature," which includes the memoir Night. The students discussed ideas about social responsibility and the importance/role of personal narratives, pulling not only from Night but also from the memoir A Long Way Gone (their summer reading book), plus articles and videos on the Rwandan and Bosnian genocides and the bystander effect. I invited the department head to come see what the kids were doing, and he came to my last block. Even though most of these students had never even heard of Socratic Circles before this year, they did a fantastic job. The department head told the students he was so impressed with how they synthesized information from all these different sources and then used it to formulate arguments (gotta love those great higher-order thinking skills!), as well as with how they were talking about issues that are still very relevant in our society today (for example: the students made connections with what's been happening in Syria). I was also quite pleased with them. One group earlier in the day didn't do as well, but I know that the next time they'll understand what to expect and will nail it. I told both classes that even though I'm not a morning person, I had been so excited to come to school that day and see them discuss all of their ideas. They chuckled at me, but I hope that positivity rubs off on them. They seemed to enjoy the experience, and asked me if we could do more of these. Hurray! One kid even wore a suit jacket and tie, because he felt it was a special occasion. I'm curious to see if he gets his buddies to join him next time. :)

There have been a couple of students I've been struggling with. One of them was turning in almost no work and had a bad attitude, and it was really frustrating. But after communicating with home, I got him to stay after school with me last week and we had a really good talk. This week he has been turning in assignments and participating a lot more in class. Today the students were rehearsing some scenes from the stage version of To Kill a Mockingbird, and he was really putting in a great effort. I high fived him at the end of class and told him how great it was that he was buckling down. Hopefully he sees that I believe in him and will stay on this better path.

This weekend I'll be reading a bunch of college essays. I helped them on their drafts and it seems like it should be a decent crop. Wish me luck!

The times they are a-changin'

Graduation was this past weekend. It was a long ceremony, but I was happy to be there. I love seeing their smiles as they proudly and nervously cross the stage, leaving behind childhood. One of my former students was the valedictorian, and gave quite a wonderful speech. He talked about all the mixed-up emotions he’s feeling right now as he gets ready to embark on this new phase of his life: happy, sad, excited, nostalgic, etc. But there was also one emotion he said he hadn’t shared with anyone before: he’s scared.

Change is most certainly a scary thing. I too am at a point where big things are changing in my life, and I’m anxious and terrified. Terrified of encountering rejection, of hating where I end up, of knowing what I want but not being able to grasp it.

Growing up, my life was always so stable that change was one of the things I feared most. I viewed it as a swear word, a circumstance to be avoided and resisted. As I got older, I learned to look at it in a more positive light. When graduating college, I was certainly sad to leave behind a place and people I loved so dearly, but also excited that I would finally be pursuing the career that I had dreamed of and worked towards for so long. I’m trying to remember that feeling now, that feeling of possibilities in various facets of my life.

I saw that excitement in my students’ faces the other day, ready for bigger and better things. I hugged them and wished them well, and I hoped that we’ve helped prepare them to face the world. There are some who I am confident will be spectacular, and some who I worry about, especially if life has already been difficult for them. I know that I’ve been well-prepared to face life’s challenges, and I know that I have a family and friends that are there to help me along the way. I’m hopeful that, as I prepare to turn a quarter of a century old and another year wiser, I too will be on to bigger and better things. And who knows? There may yet be some detours along the way. But I am going to do my best to hang on to that feeling of hope.

Learning to think before you speak

I love it when kids surprise me with moments of real maturity. Last week, one such moment came out of a much uglier moment. One kid drew on another's face with marker, and the young man who was the canvas responded by swearing and calling the kid a "faggot." Now, I've made it quite clear to my students that I will not tolerate derogatory language, and discussed with them how such words are not only offensive, but can also be very hurtful without them even realizing it. Both boys were sent to the office, and I told them the next day that they'd have to serve a detention with me.

The following morning, I came into school and found a letter in my mailbox from the boy whose language got him into trouble. It was a very nice apology letter, and he maturely acknowledged that what he said was wrong and took responsibility for it. He explained that he'd been so upset because he had a job interview later that day and was afraid that the marker wouldn't come out, but said he knew this was not a good excuse. Here are some excerpts from the letter:
"I just hope you know it was not intended to disrespect anybody, I just allowed my anger to get the better of me, and I'm really, really, really disappointed in myself for allowing those words to come out of my mouth. Because not only did I make people uncomfortable by saying that, I lowered myself down to something I never wanted to....I want you to know I'm sorry and had no intent to disrespect the gay community by my use of vocabulary by any means. I was just stupid and didn't think of others before I reacted. I feel ashamed of myself because I know what I said could affect somebody. And I hope you know that's not the kind of person I am. This has taught me a lot and I know I will always remember to think before I speak."

I pulled him aside that day and told him how much I appreciated his words and that he took the time to really reflect on what he'd done. He could have just simply served his detention (which he'll still do) and let that be it, but it took maturity to admit he was in the wrong and to show a true understanding of WHY. I love these moments, because teaching is really about so much more than just making the students better readers and writers; we also want them to become good, consciencious, compassionate citizens. This young man took a good step in that direction, and I hope that he really does keep this lesson in mind.

The good kind of drama

Last month (good lord, have I really procrastinated writing this post for a whole month?) I took the Drama Club to the Massachusetts Educational Theater Guild High School Drama Festival. Once you’ve caught your breath from that mouthful of a name, please continue reading. This is an annual festival/competition that I participated in for three years in high school, so it was quite exciting and nerve-wracking for me to participate this year as an educator. I found myself getting nostalgic about my high school experiences with the festival, and it seems that my students also had a wonderful experience.

I went to a tiny, weird, awesome charter school for just about my whole life. We had these classes called “Projects” or “Workshops” which students could choose according to their interests—art, engineering, environment, etc. From 10^th through 12^th grade, I chose theater. This class met several afternoons a week, though we would frequently continue our rehearsals after school, turning it into a hybrid of class and club. In addition to our spring performance of a professional play, each year we also all wrote our own one-act plays, then chose one to perform at the Drama Festival.

Being a poor school, our budget was basically whatever we made at fundraisers and some donations from our parents who took pity on us. Our costumes were dug up from closets, attics, and the Salvation Army; sets were kept as simple as possible, and what we didn’t have lying around we had parents help us build or borrowed pieces from a kind school nearby; props were similarly scavenged for. Our teachers were not trained in theater, so mainly they were our supervisors and gophers, devoting many unpaid hours to us. I can only hope we thanked them enough. We students were given nearly limitless creative freedom—we were the directors, producers, stage managers, actors, and designers. This often put a lot of pressure on us, because if we wanted to make something happen, we had to figure out how to do it. And it was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had.

My mother once asked me if I ever regretted going to that school, as it offered no AP or honors courses at the time, and had only a fledgling sports program. I told her that while I do wish I hadn’t missed out on those aspects of high school, what I gained instead was of much greater value. One of the many things it taught me, especially through the Theater Workshop, was self-sufficiency. We had to make something out of nothing, and work hard for anything we wanted. Nothing was handed to us on a silver platter, and that made us even prouder of the final product. At the Drama Festival, we went up against schools with established theater programs and actual budgets, and most used professional plays. And even though we never moved on to the next round, we always knew just how special our experience was, because it truly was OURS, every last detail. Moving on would have simply been icing on the cake.

At the school where I teach, I began getting involved with the Drama Club last year. This year, I am one of the co-advisors, and I knew that one of the things I wanted to do was participate in the Festival. I soon learned just how stressful being on the other side of it was…paperwork and scheduling and busses, oh my! I often felt that next to my credit as director it should also have said “child wrangler,” as getting all those students into one room together proved nearly impossible, and they were often not good about telling me when they could not be at rehearsal. I told them how lucky they were that they’re so darn funny. After all, it’s hard to stay too annoyed at a kid when they’re performing a scene for the 12^th time and STILL finding ways to make you laugh.

In some ways, this felt like my high school experience. Granted, the Drama Club had some money for us to spend, but as the play was about people auditioning for a play, the stage consisted of a table, folding chair, and a ghost lamp that my dad constructed (thanks, Pops). Costumes were closet pulls that the students and I collaborated on. Plus, our school doesn’t have much of a drama program—we don’t have a real theater (just a little “backstage” theater and a big stage in the cafetorium), no light/sound board, and no professionals who really know what they’re doing (because lord knows I’m not trained in this stuff, unless a little acting/directing experience and watching a crapload of “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” and some of the great comedians and studying their timing and whatnot makes you qualified to direct a comedy….). And just like when I was in high school, many of the people in the cast had never acted before. I badgered several of these kids for weeks about auditioning because I’d seen them act in class and knew they’d be great. What was really fantastic was that a couple of the new actors are members of the football and wrestling teams, and these two worlds are usually kept quite separate at this school. Bridging that gap felt like a victory in itself.

The day of Festival had its heart-attack-inducing moments, which I won’t go into (other than to say that at the end of the night, there was about a twenty-minute period during which I thought I’d have to go to my principal on Monday morning and say, “Hey, sorry, we lost one….”). But mostly it was great. The show went well, and even when a couple of kids messed up, one of their castmates covered for them beautifully. I was a nervous wreck in my chair, schvitzing like I’d just gone for a run, but delighting in how confident they looked up on that stage and in all the laughter coming from the audience. The rest of the day was filled with watching other shows, which was a fantastic learning experience for my students that made them want to improve to those levels, socializing with kids from other schools (I tried not to get too grossed out when a few of the boys had already picked which girls they wanted to chase after within an hour of our arrival), and having a great time with each other. And it’s fun for us teachers to have a chance to talk to these students and connect with them in a different way than we would in the classroom.

The long day/night ended with four members of the cast receiving recognition awards for their excellent acting, and yes, I cheered and took pictures like a proud mama. We didn’t move on to the next round, but the victory came on the bus ride home when the kids all started asking me about next year. Those who had been most skeptical about this experience at the beginning admitted that I was right about this being fun (duh) and said, “We have to start working on next year’s play TOMORROW!” I wish I could just bottle up the enthusiasm they displayed that night and take it out whenever I need a lift to my spirits. Even though the road to the Drama Festival was bumpy (as it always seems to be), I managed to turn a whole bunch of kids into Festie enthusiasts. Don’t hate me for being clichéd and corny, but there really are things more valuable than winning. When the host school was announced to be moving on to the semifinals, the person that went up to the stage to receive the award was the teacher/director, rather than one of the kids like the other schools had done. I don’t ever want that to be me. I always want to remember that it’s about the kids, about them having a positive experience. Knowing that my students were proud of their work, had learned a lot, and wanted to keep getting better was one of the best feelings I’ve had so far as a teacher. And I’m so grateful for my high school experience for making that possible.

STOP THE PRESSES: Learning can be fun!

Overheard on the staircase at school: "You're not a banana!"

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The other day, my CP2 class was playing a vocab review game, a combo of pictionary and charades (whichever option the students felt most comfortable with). Some of the students were really getting into it, which was surprising from a group that generally has no enthusiasm whatsoever. One student, who has not done any reading or work in ages, actually made vocab flashcards, and was a big participant in the review game. When we were wrapping the game up so we could move on to doing some reading, one girl said, "Can we keep playing? I know that we're learning, but this is fun!"

WOAH. Somebody call CNN and get Wolf Blitzer to break this shit to the public: Learning can be fun.

Seriously though, that was music to my ears. They were buying into what we were doing, even if a part of their brains told them that doing so was weird. This class has been such a struggle for me, that often I just worry about getting through it each day. But maybe we'll be able to do better than that. Maybe if I keep experimenting a little, we'll have more days like this.

Then yesterday, both of my CP1 classes had a great time doing Socratic circles. This was our first of the year. (For those of you who aren't familiar with Socratic circles, in a nutshell they are formal, student-driven discussions. The students are given the very open-ended questions ahead of time and must prepare notes with ideas, quotes from the text, real-world examples, questions, etc. Then they're split into two groups, and each group takes a turn in the inner circle discussing one of the questions, and I stay out of it as much as humanly possible. The outer circle then gives feedback on how the discussion went.) They need a bit of work on integrating their quotes into the discussion and staying a little more focused on the topic, but overall they did a good job. Some very interesting ideas were brought up, and they did really well with actually having a conversation, building on one another's points and sometimes providing counterarguments. They also did well in the outer circle, providing insightful feedback that will hopefully help them recognize how to improve their own discussion skills.

I told the students that we'll probably do at least one of these per unit. They all quickly voiced their approval, saying, "This was awesome!" Sigh. Such bliss. It was nice enough seeing how into the discussions they were--I even let them go over the original amount of time I had set for the discussions to last--so to know that they weren't engaged in what they were doing simply for the sake of getting a good grade was some seriously delicious icing on the cake. One student pointed out in his outer circle feedback that he noticed there was a lot of passion in the discussion he observed. Seeing that kind of passion is what makes me love this job. Yes, they had prepared notes, but these students did not sound like rehearsed robots saying something purely to impress me. I even heard a couple of kids who almost never utter a peep in class speak up multiple times to defend their ideas, and they didn't just say something simple to get their participation done and over with.

I like Socratic circles because they really challenge students to take ownership of what they're doing. After all, they are the ones running the discussions and giving feedback to one another. At the end of each class, I reminded that that the skills they practiced don't need to be reserved for Socratic circles, but rather can and should spill over to our everyday discussions. I told them that I don't want them to always be looking at me when they speak, but rather I want them to look at each other and really, truly listen to what everyone is saying and actually respond, because that's when the magic happens. And, dare I say, that's when it starts to be fun.

Not too late to apologize

First, some humor:

After telling Student 1 to stop petting Student 2’s head, Student 2 said, “You have to pay to pet me—I’m like a petting zoo.”

 Student: “Nice reverse psychology.”
Me: “That wasn’t reverse psychology.”
Student: “It was for me.”

When passing out some papers to my honors class, a few of them started doing the wave. I told them this needed to end now, because otherwise they’d soon enough be tossing around a beach ball. About 15 seconds later, I turn around, and sure enough a student has pulled out a balloon, blown it up, and started hitting it across the room.

Okay, now for the sweet stuff:

Last year, my B period class was horrible. Especially since I was a new teacher, it was my worst nightmare. There were a handful of kids that were not exactly strangers to the administrators' offices, and I had the pleasure of having them all in one room. And it was a CP1 class, and those kids tend to be, overall, the least motivated of all the sophomores. I had a couple kids in there who did pretty much nothing all year. One in particular that I am writing about today was a smart ass, pain in the ass, "I don't care about anything" kind of kid. I tried to motivate him and reach out to him, and he nearly bit off my hand as he snapped at me not to give him a life speech. Needless to say, not one of my favorite people. He also was out of school for the end of the year and the beginning of this year because he got in trouble.

This year, my two office mates each have him in class (since he's taking junior English and retaking sophomore English), and they've told me that this kid is really turning his life around and redeeming himself. I will admit that I've been skeptical. After all, leopards don't usually change their spots. So imagine my surprise when today in the hallway, he asked if he could speak to me in my office. I asked him what's up (and he was surprised I remembered his name), and he said that he wanted to apologize for how disrespectful he was to me last year. I swear, you already could have knocked me over with a feather. He continued to say how it wasn't okay for him to act that way, and that this year he looks around in his classes and sees kids doing the same thing, and it bothers him.

I told the student that I really appreciated his words, and that it takes a big person to apologize like that. I put out my hand to shake his, and as he left he said, "Keep up the good work!" I was so incredibly touched by everything he said and the utter sincerity with which he said it. I very nearly started to cry. It was clear that my colleagues were right about him. He must have really had a wake-up call and done some soul-searching in order to get to this point. Just a year ago, he seemed like a kid on the fast track to nowhere. Today, I saw a man in front of me, someone who is now willing to learn from his mistakes and try to be a better person. I hope he keeps on this good path, because I am so very proud of him.

This isn't the first time that I've been surprised by someone like this. At the end of the last school year, a student wrote me a letter. Things with her had always been rocky--sometimes she was great in class, sometimes very very difficult. In her letter, she said she was sorry for giving me grief, and that she often takes out her anger at the wrong people. She went on to thank me and tell me that I'm a wonderful teacher. That letter is on my bulletin board in my office, and every now and then I glance at it and smile. Then, over the summer, a girl I knew in high school approached me. She had been a jerk to me back in the day, and over the past year she had been nannying for my little neighbor (which worried me). She came up to me and said she wanted to apologize for how mean she was in high school, and that it's really bothered her for a long time. My parents said she had been going through a 12-step program, part of which is making amends with people. I was shocked that she felt I was one of the people she felt the need to make amends with.

I've met a lot of shmucks in my life. And I'm sure that plenty of them will stay that way for life. But these people showed me that sometimes, people can recognize the error of their ways and truly change. Today was one of the best payments a teacher can get, the kind of day we store in our memories to save for a rainy day. Sometimes we have an effect on someone and we don't even realize it, and even think that we've failed in our goal to help that student. Then, out of the blue, they surprise you in the most wonderful way possible.

Here & there

Vacation

Ahhh, vacation. One of the delightful perks of this job. This week I've been able to see some friends, spend time in Boston, buy more books, and today I went for a nice hike in the Blue Hills. Yesterday I finally went to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum for the first time. What a beautiful place! The garden is breathtaking....oh, how I wish I had money. That is the type of garden that could inspire poetry (and probably has). I enjoyed a lot of the art, though at times I found it annoying that the museum has to keep everything exactly the way Gardner had it, because some pieces were difficult to get a good look at. Plus, not all of them were very well lit. Nevertheless, it was a worthwhile excursion. I also saw "Titanic" in 3D. That movie first came out when I was 9 years old, and my sister was 5. My mom wasn't always very good at paying attention to why movies carried the ratings they did, and thus took us to see some things that were a little inappropriate (like "Stepmom"), which I recall once commenting on to her. (I'm sure that those of you who know me are not the least bit surprised by this.) I thought the 3D added to the grandeur of the film, and it was great to be able to see this on the big screen again. I've seen it in bits and pieces on TV for so many years, but that kind of waters down the effect of it (please excuse the horrible and unintended pun). Even though I practically have it memorized, seeing it in the theater was like seeing it with fresh eyes.

Capote

This week I've also been reading Truman Capote's Music for Chameleons, which is a collection of short stories, some true, some fictional, some a combo of the two. With Capote, sometimes it can be hard to tell. But I absolutely love his style of writing. These stories are from late in his career when he was experimenting with a new style. The result is almost like a screenplay, consisting largely of dialogue, something for which he had a great talent. Anyone who has ever seen and loved "Breakfast at Tiffany's" should read the novella--the way he writes Holly Golightly's dialogue is so distinctive that you can actually hear Audrey Hepburn's voice. One story in Music for Chameleons, "Handcarved Coffins," is made up of dialogue along with descriptions relegated to parentheses. It's about 80 pages long, and had me at the edge of my seat, racing to unlock its secrets. Recently, when I offered to let my students borrow my books so they could have something to read if they finished the MCAS early, In Cold Blood caught the eyes of one of my CP1 boys. He returned it last week, and said that he loved it. He seemed to still be a little bit haunted by it. Once I finish this book, I'll have to see if he's interested in borrowing it. It's always fun to get kids to read something they ordinarily would not pick up, and then see them get hooked by it.

Yom HaShoah

Today is Yom HaShoah, or Holocaust Remembrance Day. I've mentioned before in this blog how I teach Elie Wiesel's Night in my World Literature class, which is for seniors. Next year, our school is re-shuffling our curriculum, and World Lit is going to be for sophomores (I currently teach four classes of sophomores). This means that they'll be missing out on some great books. A few of us decided that we would teach Night to our sophomores this year, as it is often considered one of the most important books students will read in high school. It's amazing what an impact it can have on them, learning of the atrocities that human beings are capable of committing against one another, as well as how strong and enduring the human spirit can be. 

I assigned the memoir to my honors class to read over break. A couple of weeks ago, a few of those students were asking me what they would be reading after Macbeth, and I told them that this would be assigned, and they were pretty excited. Then, early last week, one of the boys came in, excitedly saying, "I read that book!!!" At first, I had NO idea what book he was referring to. He went on to tell me that he had already finished Night (even though I had not yet officially assigned it or even passed out the books), and he loved it. He buzzed on and on about how great the writing was, and said that he couldn't put the book down, and in fact was afraid to put it down because it was so sad that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to pick it back up again. He even said, "I almost cried." After class ended, he talked to me some more about it, his enthusiasm just spilling over. To put it in perspective, this kid is a member of the football and wrestling teams. He's smart and a good kid, but can be kind of a yahoo sometimes (to steal Ms. K's word). I've blogged about him before--he's the one who ate the spider. But like I said, he is a good kid, and when he's not being a goofball, he's pretty bright. To see him so enthusiastic and so affected by this book was fantastic. The next day, when I did my lecture on the Holocaust and WWII, whenever his classmates started getting a little noisy, he'd tell them, "Quiet, I want to hear this." WHOA. This is one of the students that I usually have to remind to quiet down! But he was riveted and wanted to soak up every bit of information. His classmates were also very interested and asked some good questions. I also showed some photographs from a book of my dad's, some of which are kind of graphic, showing starving or dead prisoners. Some students, including the aforementioned boy, had to avert their eyes from those pictures, unable to look at the horrors I warned them about.

The assignment I gave with Night was 2-3 pages on the following question: "From a 21st century point of view, what does this book mean to you?" It's very open-ended, and I'm extremely interested to see what sorts of responses I'll get. I didn't want to give a literary analysis with the book this time; I think the more personal responses will be more impactful. I'll be sure to write an update once I collect the assignment. I hope the students are all at least half as moved by this account of the Holocaust as that one boy was. Today is a reminder of just how important it is to keep the memory of that terrible crime against humanity alive, and to use our knowledge and understanding to create a better world for ourselves.

Hoops, horrors, and hope

Last week, I experienced two of the most powerful days of my young teaching career. On Wednesday, Chris Herren was a guest speaker at school. For those of you who are not familiar with his story, Herren was once the next big thing in basketball. He was a local kid from Fall River who decided to play for Boston College, and eventually ended up playing in the NBA, including for the Celtics. However, his career was derailed and destroyed by his drug addiction. It started off with “just” smoking pot and drinking beer as a teenager, which eventually led to him getting hooked on cocaine, which led to oxycontin, which led to heroin.

Herren was a very powerful speaker. First off, he looked and sounded like someone the students could relate to, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt and speaking in his Boston accent. Then there was the content of his presentation. He began his story by talking about how in his freshman year at BC, he was required to go to a lecture on drugs, and he was one of those kids who laughed at it. As he said this, sure enough there were a few students in the audience laughing to one another. He pointed and whistled at them and asked if they were following him, effectively demanding their attention. From that point on, you could hear a pin drop in that gym.

One aspect of Herren’s talk was that he didn’t hold back. I’m sure that there are a lot of parents who are upset that he didn’t censor himself, but I think that the grim reality is exactly what these kids needed to here: stories of sleeping on the street, of having his heart stop and get restarted on two different occasions, of having needles hanging out of his arm, of an Italian man pulling a string of heroin bags out of his mouth, of dragging his children into the car so he could go meet his dealer, and so on. One of my students said that he knew that drugs did bad things to your body and life, but he had never before realized just how much damage they could cause. That kind of shock and awe may have been controversial, but it was effective, so censorship be damned.

The real turning point for Herren was when he left rehab to attend the birth of his third child, and was high just a few hours later. His wife finally told him to leave and get away from her children. When he returned to rehab, someone there told him that he needed to call up his wife and tell her that he was going to drop off the face of the Earth and to tell the kids that he had died in a car accident, saying that he was scum and that this was the best thing he could do for his family. This was the push Herren needed to finally get sober. This part of his story was extremely emotional, and I found myself tearing up.

What was even more moving, however, was the students’ responses afterwards. During the question time, some students asked good, thoughtful questions. One kid said that going into the presentation, “I thought this was going to be crap,” and then said that he wanted to thank Herren for being there. One of our school’s biggest thugs, a kid who’s always getting into fights and has been arrested a number of times, actually asked a question (“What’s the hardest part of your day?”), and the shock in the room was palpable. A couple of students also shared personal stories of friends and family members who have struggled with addiction, and another said that he was writing a book about his past addiction, and passed down a few chapters, asking if Herren would give them a look. For those students to feel comfortable speaking up in front of their peers like that was amazing. One thing that I think helped them was when he talked about kids who had trouble speaking up at past presentations he had done. One girl at another school felt pressured to put her hand down, but emailed him later and told him about how she was bullied at school and was cutting herself. He wanted these kids to know that they could tell him whatever they wanted, and that everyone else had better be respectful about it.

The presentation ended up going past the time we had originally allotted for it. Someone, I think it might have been his assistant, told the administrators that Herren spoke more passionately, emotionally, and longer than he usually does, and that when he thanked the kids for being an amazing audience, that wasn’t just a throwaway line—he doesn’t usually say that to the crowds he speaks to. Students remained in the gym talking to him and asking questions for the next half hour until after school had ended. He later tweeted about our school: “Words cant describe what I just witnessed at  __________HS ... Emotional and powerful 2hrs with the kids !! THANK YOU forever grateful..” He felt a great connection to our kids, and vice versa. Of course, some kids still left this laughing and will go on making bad decisions, but some were truly affected. Herren also made sure to give us his contact info, which I passed on to my kids, and noticed many of them writing it down.

The next day, I barely did any teaching. All of my sophomore classes ended up talking about the presentation throughout the whole class. I had them circle up and discuss it. In a couple of classes where they were a little more reluctant at first to talk, I just had them go in a circle. If they weren’t sure what to say, I just asked them to comment on something in the presentation that they found powerful. A lot of them spoke very passionately about how powerful they found Herren’s talk. But some kids did have personal stories that they wanted to get off their chests—stories of family members who struggled with addiction (some of whom lost the fight), stories of themselves overcoming problems with addiction or self-mutilation. One student even cried, as did I a little bit. I had to contact some guidance counselors to follow up on some of what I heard, as I am a mandated reporter. One of the cases I had to report required immediate attention: during one class, a girl said that because of Herren’s words, one of her friends said that he no longer wanted to do drugs, but that with that taken away, he felt like he no longer had anything left to live for. I pulled her out of the room at the end of class and asked if she would give me his name, which she did. She asked me about it the next day, and I assured her that the counselors were working to get him the help that he needed. I am so proud of her for having the courage to speak up and tell on her friend. One thing I told all of the students that day was that telling on a friend who is doing drugs is not a bad thing. Yes, the friend might get mad at them, but saving their life is more important. I talked about how their teachers are not looking to just get kids in trouble and make this a “gotcha” kind of thing—we genuinely want to get them the help that they need.

Throughout the day, I really made sure to reiterate just how much I, along with the other teachers, care about our students. We may often be looked at as the people who make them do things they do want to do, but first and foremost we want to ensure that they are happy, healthy, and safe. The learning can’t happen effectively unless that other component is taken care of. I talked about how much we worry about them, and discussed the resources they have at school to get help.

In these discussions, the students also expressed a lot of frustration. There seems to be a big fear of telling their teachers and guidance counselors about their problems, and a lot of them, for various reasons, do not trust their counselors. They also are very cynical about the lasting power of Herren’s words; they said that they believe that soon enough, people who were initially inspired to change will just go back to their own ways. I asked them during the conversations if there were things we could do to change our school’s culture and ways that we could keep Herren’s message alive, as I believe that the question of "what's next?" is very important. Also, the next day, I gave the students a brief questionnaire asking what we as a school community can do to achieve those goals, and also asked what they would like their teachers and guidance counselors to do to better help them. I told them that I didn’t want our discussions to just have been nice little therapy sessions—I want them to truly have a voice, and for the faculty and students to work together on this issue. I promised that during vacation this week that I would read over those questionnaires, type up a little summary of the comments, and pass it along to the principal so that she can know what is on the students’ minds. Some of them remained cynical, while others were appreciative that I had truly listened to their concerns and wanted to make their voices heard.

I am so greatful to Mr. Herren for using his terrible experiences for something positive, and my kids were very touched by his words. The drug problem at my school and at others is not going to ever be completely eradicated; I am not so naïve as to believe that. But I hope that we can start to make a change. If Herren’s speech changed just a couple of lives, I will consider it a success. But I hope it does more, and starting a dialogue and keeping it going is important in determining how much of an effect it will have. And we the faculty need to do more to make sure that our students feel that they can trust us. We need to all work harder to make connections with our students so that they truly understand just how much we care about them and so that they can all feel special. I hope that this can be a turning point at my school. Perhaps that is foolishly optimistic, but nothing great was ever achieved with pessimism.

Learning from and with students

There are times when teaching the same text over and over again can begin to feel a bit dull. One way to overcome this is by mixing things up--trying new ideas, examining the text from new angles, using different projects, etc. And I absolutely LOVE it when my students teach me something new by coming up with ideas that I had never considered before. Today was a great example. One of my students asked if he could stay after school briefly to bounce ideas off of me for his paper (what a lovely question!). He said he was interested in my suggestion of analyzing Shakespeare's use of equivocation in Macbeth and arguing what his purpose/message is with this. He had some thoughts on the subject, then I asked a couple questions to push his thinking further, and we kept on tossing out ideas and building on them. Suddenly, we were thinking about this in ways that neither of had considered before, and getting increasingly excited about the possibilities that this topic had. It was great to see the wheels in his head turning as he pushed his thinking to new levels, and he kept expressing how he liked these new ideas and thought they were cool. I know that students aren't big fans of writing papers, but he actually seemed to be looking forward to exploring the ideas that we had collaboratively come up with.

The student left my office with a positive attitude and a much clearer notion of the direction he wants to go in, and I came away from this with a new perspective on a play I have read many times over. Something I want to always remember is that being a teacher doesn't just mean teaching others--you also have to be open to continuing to learn and grow. My students love to ask me, "Well what do YOU think of this?" And I remind them that that's not really so important, and that just because I interpret a text a certain way, that doesn't mean that they have to agree with me. I have definitely learned some great things from them, and it's so fun to say what they have to offer.

NHS + a 2nd chance

The last couple of weeks have been crazy and rather stressful, but right now I'm just going to focus on and share with you some of the positive things that have been going on:

Two weeks ago, I attended the National Honor Society induction ceremony per an invitation from one of my absolute favorite students from last year. He came up to me about a month ago, and said, "So I was trying to think of who I'd like to invite, and the first name that popped into my head was 'Debbie G.'" (They love coming up with nicknames for me. I'm desperately trying to discourage it....) The ceremony was very nice--the kids were all spiffed up and trying not to giggle and trip, the parents looked so proud, and we teachers felt honored to be included. There are days in this profession where we feel underappreciated and worry that what we are doing is making no difference at all, so this type of thing is like a nice little affirmation that there are students whose lives we've impacted and who we have meant something to. This student was so excited to have me there, and I was beaming ear to ear. As a thank you for including me in this special occasion, I gave him a B&N gift card and a letter that was a combo of corny and slightly obnoxious (since that's how he and I talk to one another). I also had the opportunity to congratulate my other former students who were there, a number of whom gave me hugs. I'm really proud of how hard they have worked to get to this point, and I hope it's just one in a long list of great things they'll achieve in their lives.

The next topic I'd like to share is about one of my seniors. This is a kid who, for most of the year, has done almost no work and just screwed around during class. His grade for Term 1 was an very low F. I mean, you'd need scuba gear to dive down far enough to see how low it was. And he didn't turn in a paper that was assigned during Term 1, but the grade for which went on Term 2, meaning he started off this term in the hole too. But the last couple of weeks, there's been a big change. He's started doing his homework, and on the last couple has actually been writing more than most of the other students. He also turned in a short writing assignment and earned a 9 out of 10. In addition, his participation has been getting better. Yesterday, the class actually had a really great discussion about Night (they are very into this book right now). We had just read the part about Wiesel's dilemma about whether or not he and the other prisoners should fast for Yom Kippur while in the concentration camp. This student argued that he should, saying that he has already lost everything else that is important to him in his life, and that G-d is all he has left, so he shouldn't just give up on his faith. That's a pretty profound idea from a CP2 student, and quite unexpected from this particular one. He ended up being a leader in this discussion, and I was so happy to see that.

I pulled him out of class at one point for a short talk. Now, to preface this, I should say that I have some tough policies, because I firmly believe in the importance of students learning about responsibility. I don't accept big assignments after three days (and they lose 10 points for each day they are late), and I don't do extra credit, because I dislike giving students the idea that it's okay to goof off for the whole semester because they'll just get to make up for it later. And I'm certainly not one of those teachers to say, "Well, he's a senior, let's just pass him so he can graduate." So back to my student: This senior's progress report is going to say that he has an F. If I were to stick to my usual policies, it is quite likely that he would not pass and graduate this year. However, I am feeling very encouraged by his recent 180, and during our conversation he seemed very sincere about changing his ways (and this is a kid who I have almost never seen be serious or sincere about anything). I told him that I am going to make an exception for him and give him an extra credit assignment, but that in order for him to earn this opportunity, he must keep up with the rest of his work too. He agreed to this, appreciative of the second chance he is being given.

Even though I broke my rule, I feel good about this decision. It is only December, and if there was already no way for this kid to pass, I know that he would just shut down for the rest of the year, and I doubt he'd take the course over again in order to graduate. I want him to learn, and it seems that he has realized his mistakes and learned from them. He also seems to be someone with low self-esteem, as he has previously expressed that he's not good at anything and doesn't really have anything going for him. I hope that by being given this second chance, he'll understand that he has someone who believes in him, and maybe he'll start to believe in himself. So if ever there were a time to make an exception to a rule, I suppose that this is it. I hope it will prove to be the right decision.