2013-2014 Reflection

For my final assignment, I had my students write a final reflection about my class.   This included reflecting on the challenges they faced, their favorite projects, and what they think they gained from my class.  In response, I also wrote my own in the form of a letter to them.  I figured I’d post it here as well.

Dear 9th Grade Learners,

I decided that since I was making you write a final reflection, it was only fair that I write my own as well.  I’ve learned so much this year, and I plan to keep evolving and becoming better at what I do.  I’m relieved that it’s the end of the year, and don’t get me wrong — I will miss many of you, but it definitely hasn’t been an easy year for me.  I’m not sure some of you comprehend the work that I’ve put into this course and how much sleep I’ve lost in the process.  I do think that things could have been better, and responsibility for that rests on the shoulders of everybody, myself included.

Honestly, I think I started out on the wrong foot.  As a new teacher coming into the New Tech program, I think I was naive about a few things.  I knew that there were student norms and that you were supposed to hold each other accountable for them.  So, when I started, I reminded everybody about this and was curious to see these norms in action, expecting in many ways to see you steer your own learning.

However, what I eventually learned is that many of you don’t hold yourselves accountable very well, let alone hold other people accountable.  I think I gave you too much freedom because I thought that you could manage yourselves and were used to this idea from last year.  With that in mind, I would often let you shoot yourselves in the foot…and some of you would keep doing it and not seem to realize that you were in danger of having no toes left.  This did, and still does, seem really obvious to me, but I hope that some of you picked up on ways to manage yourselves, your time, and your workload.

I know I didn’t always have the answer to everything, but I think that a teacher learns as much as he or she teaches.  I’ve interacted with many personalities and individuals, and I think I’ve gained much from that.  I’ve gotten a taste for what has and hasn’t worked, but overall, I don’t think it was bad for a first try.  I tried to make things relevant and interesting, and I think if you wandered into a traditional math class, you’d realize what you have in New Tech.

I know that sometimes you guys had trouble seeing the relevance of what we were doing in class, especially when we got really content-heavy, like with proofs.  I want you to remember that for all of your math classes, whenever you learn to tackle a difficult problem, that skill is transferrable to everything.  Knowing how to approach problems is always relevant, even if it doesn’t always involve setting up an algebraic expression.  When you become adults,  you need to know how to think, and math is a great tool for strengthening your minds and preparing for your futures in that sense.

I figure if you want an environment with real life relevance, you should also be prepared to suffer harsh consequences for irresponsibility and mismanagement of time.  I disliked work days sometimes because I struggled with seeing you manage your time poorly and at the same time felt like I shouldn’t have to interfere and constantly steer you back on course.  Isn’t that part of the team dynamic of mutual accountability and responsibility?  I think that many of you learned from this.  When you become adults, there won’t always be second chances.  In addition, a mistake is always a learning opportunity.  Remember that.

By the time I had gotten a feel for what was and wasn’t working in my classes, it became difficult to change my classroom norms.  I added some ways to keep individuals accountable for their work, to varying degrees of success.  I got meaner with some of you guys, which seemed to work, at least until you got used to it.  Frankly, there were times when I was just too fatigued to deal with your crap, and so sometimes I was guilty of just kinda going into survival mode and waiting for the end of class or the end of the day.

This next part is a little harsh, but I believe that it needs to be said.  At the end of this year, I had trouble seeing a lot of trust, respect, or responsibility from much of this 9th grade class.  I’m under the impression that this has been the norm for you guys for a long time.  I think it’s a bit strange that most of you are aware of it and seem to do very little to help change it.  I wonder if some of you actually like the dysfunction.  Some of the same kids telling me that I should be meaner were also guilty of being inattentive and disruptive on a regular basis and seemed quite content with the fact that you had driven all of your previous teachers mad.   Before anything positive can happen, you guys have to really want the change.

I believe that change starts within all of us.  You need to judge yourselves thoroughly before you attempt to judge others.  Turn your lenses inward on yourselves, and I think you’ll find that many of your problems actually start with you.  Why do you think I have you guys reflect every once in a while?  Please continue to reflect, and you can learn a lot from looking within.  This is none other than Agency, one of our learning outcomes.  It is about having a growth mindset, and I hope you see that it can become a powerful catalyst for changing not just yourselves for the best, but the world around you as well.  You have the power.  USE IT!

There were times where you guys surprised me with your diligence and your good work.  We’ve had some fantastic projects this year, and I’m proud to keep some of them and show them off to other people and to future classes.  I’ve been able to see some of you improve your math skills and mature as we’ve gone throughout this year.

As much as you guys drove me crazy, I also want to thank you.  I want to thank you for giving me a firm foundation with which to start my teaching career.  I want to thank you for giving me a challenging starting point from which I can grow, and I look forward to seeing you guys grow as well throughout your high school learning experiences.  If you are in my neighborhood of the school, don’t hesitate to stop by and say hi.  If you need help with something, I will do my best to help in any way that I can.  Just because you might not have me for math again doesn’t mean that I can’t  still be a part of your education.  I’ll miss you guys — well, some of you at least ☺.  Good luck.

Sincerely,

Mr. D

The Wonders of Being Snowed In

Well, I’ve been snowed/iced in for about a week now.  Keep in mind that “snowed in” has a slightly different meaning here in Arkansas than in other states that get a lot of winter weather.  We only got about three to four inches total, in all likelihood.  For whatever reason, road crews just don’t seem as prepared here.  Even if the main roads are clear, we will always usually miss several more days of school because so many kids live on crappy back roads, and something about the idea of a bunch of school buses slipping and sliding everywhere just doesn’t sit well with school administration.  Everything just ices over.  My driveway is a lovely, solid, downhill sheet of slippery goodness.

Of course, last weekend, I just went along with my normal routine, with the intent of waiting until Sunday after the church rush ended to head into town and resupply.  Well, the weather kicked up unexpectedly before then, and so I had to abort that journey.  It’s been interesting…I ran out of canned goods days ago.  I attempted to make a rice dish that utilized raisins and maple syrup.   That turned out poorly.  On a positive note, I’ve been using up all sorts of stuff that was just sitting around.  I can’t express how absurdly happy I was when I found a bag of microwavable popcorn, a bag of instant garlic mashed potatoes, and a couple of Pop Tarts today.

Prior to this, we had missed a total of eight days of school due to inclement weather.  So, the school had to make a decision:  Either give up spring break and have those days forgiven or just tack those days onto the end of the year.  Giving up spring break is the obvious choice because spring break consists of fewer days than the number we actually missed (and now we’ve added five more to that total).  On top of that, I have to prepare my students for end of course state testing, and that testing date does not change no matter how many days we miss.  So, essentially, I’ve lost two and a half weeks of preparation for that, and it doesn’t help that for whatever reason, Geometry testing takes place a couple of weeks before Algebra EOC testing.  Why they get more time to prepare is beyond me.   Despite the obvious choice of giving up spring break, it was actually decided to tack on those snow days to the end of the year.  Hope nobody had any awesome summer plans.

I kinda wish I had been more productive with my snow day time.  I’ve just been too comfy to care.   When it’s cold and you’re bundled up near a space heater with a warm mug of coffee, it’s very difficult to push yourself to be productive.  That’s not to say that I haven’t gotten anything done at all.  I got a little bit of planning done for the next project at least.   Oh well, I’m going to continue being a comfy guy until we go back.  Cheers.

Is It My Fault?

It’s a question that comes to my mind sometimes, especially when my kids do poorly, which, quite honestly, is pretty frequent.  Just recently, we wrapped up the semester with some testing, as per the norm.  Most kids that took my test bombed it.  It reached a point as I was grading that I just kinda cracked, stopped counting how many points were missed, and instead started counting the few that they got correct.  Normally, when a test turns out like that, you would think that it is a red flag that something was wrong with the test.  I don’t really think so.

First off, the test was almost the exact same thing as the review I gave them.  Some of the numbers were different, of course, but the types of questions were the same and the format was the same.  Actually, now that I think about it, for my own morbid amusement, I actually used some of the exact same questions from the review, just to see if it made any difference. (It didn’t.)  We spent an entire day going over the review, giving an opportunity to ask questions and all that, and I felt pretty good about it.  I even gave them the key so they could check their answers and make sure everything was correct for when they studied (lol, study).

Secondly, we were allowed to exempt certain students from taking the test, depending on their grades and how many absences they accumulated.  So, with that in mind, many of my best and brightest didn’t take it, and I know they would have done just fine even if they had.  This could play a part in the pass/fail ratio for this particular assessment.  These kids usually reassure me about things that I am doing because they are not afraid to give feedback.  They tell me that my assessments are easy if you pay attention, study, and do the work.  My reaction is usually something along the lines of, “THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING!”  Are my “best and brightest” just absurdly gifted, or are they just hard workers with positive attitudes?

It’s just that it reaches a point where you want to say, “Man these kids are lazy turds that don’t do their work and don’t study.”  However, when over half of your kids have grades below 70%, this “laziness” seems like an absurd epidemic.  So, what do we call this then?  Sometimes, I think that maybe there’s something I can do to engage these kids more, but then I look back on the projects we have done.  I would think that my class should be more interesting and engaging than your standard, traditional math, where you essentially show up, try not to fall asleep during lecture, take some notes, do some homework, come back the next day, rinse, repeat.  I try to include real-life relevance and hands-on activities and projects to up the ante on engagement.  My feedback from administration and other classroom observers is always very positive.  So, where am I going wrong?  Or am I?  It’s a weird cycle of self-doubt and confidence in what I am doing.

I’ve also considered the nature of this project-based learning environment the school is going for.  I think that it could work beautifully…with the right makeup of students.  When you have a bunch of kids that don’t want to be there and aren’t contributing to a system that is supposed to be student-driven, doesn’t it seem natural that things are going to crash and burn?  I described the general makeup of kids we’re dealing with in my last post, and maybe to some extent you can factor in large-scale crappy parenting somewhere.  I don’t really want to be that person that just decides that this generation of kids is just, well, bad.  So then I think, doesn’t it rely on me as a facilitator to try and bring out the best in these kids, to help them break the mold?

Ideally, this environment is supposed to be like a learning community.  I really see only handful of kids that treat it that way.  To be frank, I wouldn’t mind shipping the kids that can’t seem to handle it back to traditional-type classes.  Many schools that have a New Tech project-based program do have some sort of application and regulation process.  Our school just kinda throws all of the kids in there at 8th grade, exposes them to it, and then gives them the option to continue with the program or go traditional.  I’m just not sure that’s the right approach.  I have kids that are only in the project-based route because their friends are there or because they perceive it as easier.

So, after reflecting, I guess there are many reasons why so many of my kids do poorly on a semi-regular basis.  Many of these things seem out of my control, but I am a part of this system just like everyone else.  I would like to think that we’re all responsible for this thing called education working correctly, no matter the program or format.  That includes teachers, administrators, parents, and students.  So, maybe it’s everyone’s fault to some extent.  But you know what?  Pointing the finger and placing blame doesn’t really help anybody, though you could argue that identifying where the problem is will be the first step to solving it or at least mitigating it.  So, maybe my self-doubt is misplaced and maybe it isn’t.   All I can do is reflect on it, do the best that I can, and if my kids don’t want to do the best that they can, I’m going to just have to try and bring out the best in them.

“Why am I Here?”

For my first post, I thought it appropriate to start off by giving a bit of info on my job and the students I work with, as well as sharing an experience from my 8th period class. You will no doubt hear me frequently reference this particular class with anger and frustration in the future.  Let me share a little background on these kids.  I teach 9th graders, and so you can expect that this group of kids still has some growing up to do, but at least they’re not stinky like middle-schoolers, right?  Well, it turns out that this particular bunch is “That Group” of kids, the ones with a reputation for being notably bad.  They’ve had this reputation follow them all the way since 5th grade, and of course, many of my fellow teachers were optimistic about it, saying, “I’m sure it’s not as bad as we’re led to believe.  It’s probably just caused by a couple of kids that we won’t have since they got put in ALE and traditional classes.”  (The school district is trying out a project-based, New Tech offshoot of their school, while maintaining an option for the traditional route.)  Well, we would find out that these kids earned their reputation.   The 8th grade teachers that had them last year have some serious PTSD.  One of them looked at my 8th period roster out of curiosity and visibly shuddered as he read down the list.

As for the demographic, the kids are almost exclusively white.  I teach in a rural district in the South, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a high concentration of students of low socioeconomic status.  A lot of these kids have terrible home lives, are hungry because they don’t get enough food at home, wear the same ragged clothes all the time, and drugs seem to taint a lot of their personal experiences. (Meth is the drug of choice around here since it’s so cheap to make, apparently.)  You can tell that something is amiss with their parents by the lack of respect so many of the kids give other adults.  Oftentimes, one or both parents aren’t really there or don’t take an ounce of interest in their kids’ education.  2/3 of my students have D’s or F’s, mostly from not doing/turning in work, and you’d think that I’d be getting a lot of parent e-mails or phone calls since they can constantly check up on their kids’ grades online.  Nope.  In my defense, at the beginning of the year, I aimed to e-mail/call the parents of students having issues, but there are so many e-mails to send and phone calls to make that it’s realistically not going to happen.  I just don’t have the time for it.  Anyway, I don’t want to paint the picture that I don’t have well-adjusted, bright, well-behaved kids.  They’re just a much rarer breed around here, at least for this 9th grade class, and 8th period doesn’t seem to have too many of them.

Back on track.  So, my 8th period class is a rowdy bunch.  My room only has a 27-student capacity, and every chair is full.  My other classes are much smaller and easier to manage, but the scheduling worked out so that most of the athletes and band kids ended up in there.  For whatever reason, I also got the group of kids in there that think drugs are cool.  This class ruins my day on a regular basis.  Nobody cares about math at the end of the day, and I can barely accomplish anything in there because I’m constantly getting the students quiet, and there are so many kids that need help with their work that I can never seem to get to all of them in time.  It makes me feel bad, and headaches aren’t uncommon.

So, within the first week or so, one of the druggie kids seemed to notice how much I struggled with this class.  He’s one of those tragic cases of being a bright kid, but he won’t go anywhere in life if we can’t “break the mold” that has shaped him.  While I was attempting to teach a lesson, he suddenly asked me, “Why did you decide to become a teacher?”  His reasoning was pretty transparent.  Here’s a young guy standing in front of him, getting run over by a class of rowdy turds while trying to teach them some geometry.  Why would someone want to do that?  Normally, I don’t get derailed by random questions that are irrelevant to the lesson.  This one seemed important enough to address.

My response was not the awe-inspiring speech you might see in a dramatic movie that portrays a caring teacher.  I stumbled over my answer, partly because at that very moment, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I was probably asking myself the same question.   I recall giving a very awkward, scripted response that involved that whole “doing something fulfilling with your life” kind of thing, which isn’t too far from the truth, but there were many factors involved in my decision.  I wish I could go back and make that moment inspiring, to make them understand that I wasn’t there because it was my only career option.  I have two degrees.  I could be making an easy 60k in a cubicle, typing out some code.  I was there to share my knowledge with young people, to make them not hate math anymore, to be a positive role model for future generations, to shape their minds as I guide them toward success.  Do I feel like I’m doing this things when I teach?  Not really, at least not all the time.

I’m finding that there are many other things involved in this profession that attempt to shoot down your lofty ideals and lock you in a padded room of negativity.  It’s one thing to talk about teaching.  To experience it is a whole new level of demoralizing.  There’s a reason why so many people quit this gig after only a couple of years of struggle.  Am I here for the long haul?  I can’t say at the moment, but I view this year as a trial.  The first year is never easy for any teacher, and I know that to make those lofty ideals of mine a reality, I have to stick with it, reflect on my experiences, and remain vigilant as I do the best job I can with this group of kids.  This is my trial by fire.

Every once in a while, I ask myself that question.  Why am I here?  Is this what I really want to do?  Even if it isn’t how I imagined it would be (it never is), my thoughts and reflections lead me right back to teaching as the right choice.  Those lofty ideals I once had are still valid.  It’s my job to defeat negativity and demoralization and make those seemingly-naive ideals a reality.  For all I know, I’m already doing all of those positive things I mentioned above.  It just gets hard to see through the fog sometimes.  I guess I’d better turn on my low beams.