My Favorite Student

Teachers aren't supposed to have favorites. We're supposed to love and care for each student equally and independently of their actions or behavior. This philosophy works well in a world of objective robots, but in my fallen state, I have to admit that I do prefer some students over others. Forgive me, I realize this a shocking discovery. Allow me to first paint a picture to explain myself before you declare me the world's worst educator.

Imagine you have two students, Student A and Student B. Student A comes to class on time every day. Student B is 3-5 minutes tardy 4 of the 5 days. Student A takes notes and is engaged in classroom discussion, Student B throws stuff at everyone (including Student A) while in class. Student A is perpetually joyful, upbeat, and pleasant to be around. Interactions with Student B often consist of, "Student B, please stop talking, to which their rebuttal is "man, you trippin, you so lame". Student A never eats anything (including gum) in class, Student B seems to have invested stock in the company that produces Hot Cheetos, and leaves remnants throughout my class room. The comparison can go on and on, but I think you get the point.

Student A is a picture of my favorite student. She is cheerful, intelligent, engaged in class, and very pleasant to be around. She asks questions, volunteers, and is a leader among her peers. Students like her make this job so much more enjoyable. They are fun to teach and if you look closely enough, you can actually see the light bulb light up above their heads when then understand something. Unfortunately Student B is a picture of my not favorite student. They are the opportunity, the challenge, the chance to really test our grit this profession.

Favorites are not ideal, but neither is the classroom. Of course we would love to have 30 Student A's in each class. If we did, who knows what we could accomplish as educators. Truth is, though, that the Student B's exist as well, and in some situations are the majority. Who needs to be there more? Who knows; I think arguments can be made for both. This may make me the world's worst instructor, but at least I'm trying, and doing so honestly.

A Day in the Life Of

It seems there has been a great deal of speculation on what a day in my life looks like. Some probably envision me naturally awaking in a bed of rose pedals, well rested and relaxed, and sauntering through my day. Others may envision waking from restless nightmares to the most annoying sound conceived by man, only to race through my day swelled with stress and fear. To both of these opinions I would say, "not exactly". There have been many restless nights, and much racing, but there has also been some more relaxed and healthy aspects of my life the past four months. Instead of writing of all the trials and struggles, or lack thereof, i'll take you through an average day in the life of, and let you decide for yourself.

My first alarm is set to fire off at 4:30 am. Often I am not woken by the first or second one, but I am usually at least awake by 4:45 am. Once awake, I enjoy a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats and spend some time in the Holy Scriptures. I've been reading through the Psalms in the mornings, and it has been a source of great delight and encouragement in my daily struggles. I usually finish this routine by 5:30am which is when I either go to work out at a local gym, or finish up work for the day ahead. I try to arrive at school around 6:45 am. I go to the office to clock in, then come back to my room to set up the classroom for my first period trig class. My time and peace in the room is usually very nice in a "calm before the storm" kind of way. It's a time to email, to plan, and to think about the most effective ways of communicating with my students. Around 7:30 am, I report to the gym which is where all the students congregate before school. Once 7:40 am rolls around, our principal releases students from the gym, class by class. Consequently we are usually in my room with class started by 7:45 am.

Each class is 50 minutes long. I have two sections of Trig/Pre-calc, Advanced Seminar (homeroom), followed by one section of Geometry. After that Geometry class, I have my planning period, followed by three more sections of Geometry. As I've mentioned, each class has it's own personality, so that really regulates the demeanor at any given time of day. Seventh period on a Friday is usually much more upbeat than first period on a Tuesday, so every day is special in its own unique way.

School releases at 3:30 pm. Now that I am not coaching anymore, I am trying to find a routine after school. While football was in season, I would be at practice until 6:30 or 7 every night, then back in my until 8:30 or 9 pm. Now that football is over, though, I find that space of time suddenly freed. I stay in my classroom and work for another several hours and am usually able to leave by 5:30 pm. This still feels freakishly early, but I'm sure i'll be able to get the hang of it right when I get to go back to football.

After school I usually head home or work out if I didn't get to that morning. When home, there is usually more lesson planning, grading, or reading that needs to take place, and I usually put things down by 8:30 pm. 8:30 and on is time for me to talk with people I love, and remember that there is a great big world outside of my own small community. If I'm asleep by 10 pm I'm lucky, usually it falls closer to 10:30 or 11. 4:3o am then rolls around again, as does another opportunity to love and serve the students of (Not gonna say) High School. Sleeping in a bed of rose pedals isn't easy, but I guess someone has to do it.

Keeping the door

When school began in August, I demonstrated for my students the proper and improper way to enter the classroom. I told them that if they entered being loud and disruptive, then they would need to go back outside of the classroom and try again. A classroom should be approached with a certain reverence, I thought, and I thought this message was understood by the classes. Several weeks in, however, I began realizing this wasn't entirely true.

Week after week, a student would come in being somewhat talkative, and this would be their tone for the rest of class. I would stand at the doorway and listen to them walk in, but wouldn't enforce the rules I had laid out. Time went on, and I started to ask myself what some classes were lacking in regard to structure. Why were some classes continuing to be unruly? What was I missing? What could the silver bullet be for this werewolf? Then I realized that class begins before class starts. Now I know you may read that and think to yourself, "Self, what is this guy talking about?", and I would say this: obviously when a student has crossed through your doorway, they are physically present in your classroom, but the academic attitude is not something acquired when the bell rings. It doesn't trigger a deep appreciation of education. The sound waves don't hypnotize them into becoming baby Kim Ung Yongas.

Equipped with this information, I made two important changes. The first thing I began to do was actually follow through with my policy and make kids walk out and come back in. If that didn't work after one time, they would have to repeat. If not after the second time, repeat again. So far I haven't made a student do it more than 3 times, but am holding fast to this policy. I realize this may sound somewhat elementary and degrading, but so is trying to talk over 20 16 year olds (who know how to act) at once. If the entire class needs to come out and try it again, then that's what was going to happen. Simply put.

The second thing I've been doing is utilizing the lock on my door. Once the bell rings, I shut my door (somewhat forcefully) and lock it. I've observed that often the students who are the most rowdy are also the most tardy, so if I can curb that at the door by making them wait and settle down while I get the rest of the class in order, then they come in much more controlled. I've had 10+ kids outside of my door at times, and frankly I don't care, because I'm not going to sacrifice the instruction of the kids who cared enough to be there on time for the kids who don't. Obviously I let the tardy ones in as well, but all in all, the mood of the class has been much more attentive and docile. They've said stuff to me like, "man you don't let us talk and you lock the door and you treat us like we're little kids", and I simply respond, "I'm sorry Anterrica, when you begin behaving like a senior in high school, then things will change".

Interestingly, no ones grades have declined since the new policies have been in effect, only improvements from students who were struggling. Less stress and talking and stronger academic performance = success? It would seem so, but werewolves only come out in full moons.

Comprehending Comprehension

Comprehension is a beautiful thing to witness. The lightbulb that flashes behind the eyes of a student when they fully understand a concept is one of the most rewarding things I can see as a teacher. It is unmistakable. You see their face light up, hear the confidence in their re-explanation, and are convinced that no power of this world can strip this person of this new found knowledge. When asking class wide questions, the students will practically stand up in their chair to answer, because they know without a shadow of a doubt that they know.

It feels, however, that is also one of the most rare elements of my teaching experience. Comprehension seems to be the ever elusive creature that pops his head in my classroom, and is gone in the blink of an eye. For every one confident and authoritative response I get, I have at least five puzzled looks and exhales of confusion. I literally had a student tell me last week that she needed a new teacher, because I couldn't explain the subject in a way that she understood. This was humbling, frustrating.

Because of comments like these, this chapter was particularly relevant. I just finished teaching "the hardest thing I ever taught" according to one student. Triangle Congruence and Geometric proofs are challenging because they require thinking and explaining congruency of shapes in a certain order. If you don't comprehend the logic and thought process behind it, you will not comprehend proofs. It is not something you can fake or sidestep.

Because of this, as I instruct, I can feel the anger and frustration ever ramping toward me. Once a vocabulary word has been introduced, I begin applying it to explanations. Unfortunately, though, if the vocabulary isn't fully comprehended first, its application to deeper topics is hard at best.

In a perfect world, students would be previewing questions, summarizing, identifying clue words etc., but the challenges that my students are facing feel much bigger and deeper. Even the brightest of my students have been bridled by their educational history, so developing new skills and processes will prove to be the challenge. It is amazing that a student can read what seems to be a very basic definition, and not be able to tell you what it meant. The reward of a greater comprehension of a topic, though, is a reward worthy of the work involved to acquire it.

Shooting Yourself in the Foot

At the beginning of the school year, all is well. You can develop theories about which classes are going to be challenging, but you won't really know the true personality of each student and each class for another couple of weeks. We are now in week 12. The honeymoon is over, and each class has developed a personality of its own.

For example, I have 1st period Trig. This class is full of seniors. Many of the seniors here have an overgrown sense of entitlement and a raging case of senioritus, and it is displayed by their punctuality. I regularly start this class with 7-10 students, and end it with 20. They just trickle in, laxidasical and free.

Contrast that with my 5th period Geometry class. This class is sleepy, very sleepy. It is probably a combination of apathy and the post-lunch induced food coma they suffer. 5th period is led by Sleepy Silento. Sleepy Silento literally puts his head down every day. Every day. I don't know if it is a medically documented issue, but somehow he is rarely asleep. When I call on him, he simply picks his head up, answers the question (always correctly), then returns it to the synthetic pressboard desk. You would never think Silento was paying attention, but he pulls it off and has a low B average. I only wonder what the kid would be capable of if he applied himself. Quantum Physics? Answering the problem of Evil? Who knows, I just wish he would share his brain with more than just his desk.

Unfortunately it is not always so easy to find humor in the personality of a class. Some classes are just plain mean. I have one geometry class that fits this description. This class is far and away the most unruly and ornery of the classes. Many students show up late, talk during instruction, then get angry when they are not understanding what is going on. I had to put 4 of the students from this class out on Tuesday. That is roughly 1/5 of the class (depending on the day). Obviously there are already challenges each of these students face, but the most frustrating thing about this class, is it seems so many of their frustrations are self induced. In my mind I think, "If you're not comprehending what is going on in class, maybe you could help yourself by paying attention and not talking to the girl behind you." This makes way too much sense though, and I'm finding more and more, that things that tend to make sense rarely occur down here. I literally had a student say in class yesterday, "man, I need a new math teacher". This is the same student who has skipped my class twice this week. You tell me, Porsha, who is hurting who here?

In signing up to teach in a critical needs environment, you have to know that classes like this will exist. It is just the nature of the environment. It is difficult, though, because no matter how unruly and unacceptable a student's behavior, you still want them to learn. Furthermore, if they're not learning, you can't help but feel that in some way you are failing them. This problem plagues my thoughts at times, and reminds me of how far I still have to go. Teaching truly is a discipline that is honed and developed over time. Effective instruction does not happen over night, and the learning curve is at times painful. I have hope though, and know that progress is being seen, because at least Sleepy Silento is getting it.

Album of the week: Trouble by Ray LaMontagne. A good choice if you need to be put at ease, just disregard the overtones of drug use and depression. Invest and enjoy.

Homecoming

Ah the Fall, truly a brilliant season to be alive. The morning air is crisp, the ground soaked with dew. The leaves display the brilliance of each tree and paint a masterpiece nothing short of divine. As one drives, flashes of oranges and browns decorate the homes and landscape; it is clear that there is much to be thankful for.

Fall's aesthetic beauty is powerful, but it also commands a certain visceral connection, touching the inner heart strings of America. Our being yearns to connect with the places we come from, and the people near to our hearts. No where is this connection more powerful than in the Delta, and no where is this greater displayed than the greatest fall holiday: Homecoming.

Before coming here, I had enjoyed many homecomings. Alumni come back to their alma mater, a parade goes through the downtown, a queen is crowned, everyone is happy. Homecoming at (I can't say this publicly) High School, though, is another ball of wax altogether. "Homecoming is a big deal on the Delta, and it doesn't get much bigger than here" said our district Superintendent at the gym this morning. "Homecoming is like Hanukkah in Mississippi", exclaimed a student in my first period class. Apparently Homecoming week is an excuse for the school to practically shut down. There's no telling how many students I've heard complain, "it's Homecoming week, we don't have to do work!". Students don't wear uniforms, they are significantly rowdier and more tardy, and really it borders on sheer chaos.

Here's an example of the changes this week has brought: Yesterday, while classes were changing out, I noticed students accumulating and all looking in the same direction. Usually this body language means one thing: fight. As I took the things out of my pockets to go break up the disruption, I found out there was indeed no altercation, but a battle of a different variety. There is a signature dance of one of the neighborhoods called the Moorhead Swag, and indeed the disruption was actually students who were Moorhead Swagging. This Swagging created such a stir that students were watching and not going to class. It was so great that the principal made an announcement about it this morning to the entire school: "If you want to Moorhead Swag, you can Moorhead Swag yo' butt on out the do' and back home, 'cause we ain't havin' any of that up in here". Verily, verily.

I've surveyed several of my classes, asking them, "how many of you will actually be at school on Friday?" The majority have claimed that they will not. Time will tell, but for now I am not planning on a ton of learning to take place tomorrow. We may have an early release, we may not, it will be interesting to see how things shake out. Either way, it will be good to experience a Delta Homecoming done right.

As a side note, I've decided I'm going to start including songs/albums of the week because this is my blog and I do what I want. This week's album is Sam Cooke's Night Beat. Invest and enjoy.

Reassessing assessments

Assessment is the teacher term for testing, quizzing, or verifying in some way that the students are understanding the material. There are formal assessments, which are the standard, anxiety creating tests, quizzes, projects, and papers; basically anything that you can be graded on. There are also informal assessments, which are measures a teacher takes to verify the student is learning though they aren't receiving a grade. This would be like walking around while students are doing independent practice and checking their answers, or having them work out problems on individual dry-erase boards as a competition.

During our second class in Oxford, we took about an hour to discuss formal assessments. What they are? Why we do them? Who benefits from them? etc. In the discussion, one of the veteran teachers said something somewhat revolutionary. He said, "Assessments aren't just a formality that you do when you want a break from discipline and classroom management. They are intended to give you insight into how your students are grasping the material". Somehow, in the 17+ years of school I've been involved with, I never really thought of formal assessments as being anything like that. This comment really resonated with me and got me thinking.

Last Thursday I gave a quiz to my Geometry and Trig classes. The Geometry average was roughly a 60, and I was honestly disappointed. I knew that they understood the material much better than their performance had indicated, so I was reeling at what had happened, and what I could do about it. I went back to the drawing board and thought, "what do I honestly want to gain from this assessment?" and if I truly want to them to grasp the material, it sounds like I need to reteach and reassess. A marvel Idea. It seemed crazy because I felt like I needed to keep up with a somewhat arbitrary pacing guide, but I just decided it was worth doing.

The next day, I re-taught the material. I used similar questions, with the same procedures, and gave a similar quiz. It wasn't rocket science and required no silver bullet, but I think it might have worked. The grades drastically improved, and I think the students will have much more satisfaction when they get their quizzes back on Tuesday. I'm glad I reassessed assessments.

How to save a life...

This morning as I prepared for my day at school, I listened to the hit single by The Fray entitled "How to Save a Life". It was particularly relevant to one of the most recent stories in the saga.

I have a student; let's just call him Bobby. Bobby started coming to school about a week after classes started, and was initially very quiet. His head was down a lot, he didn't really speak to anyone, he just kept to himself. About a week into his tenure, I had a fight in my room. As I was breaking it up, I looked to my right and to my surprise, saw Bobby helping diffuse the situation. This act stuck with me, and I sent a note home the day after to tell his parent or guardian about Bobby's heroic actions. It takes a lot for a kid to step into a fight like that, and I thought they should know about it as well.

Unfortunately, it would only take a few more days before Bobby became somewhat ornery. I guess he started feeling a bit more comfortable and decided to push the boundaries a little. He began to disrupt class more and more by getting out of his seat or talking out. When he received consequences for his actions, he regularly argued. Bobby was becoming a growing pain.

One day he decided he wanted to go out for football. Another coach encouraged him to try it out, and a few days later, Bobby was on the field. It was great to have him out, not only because he was clearly an athlete, but because it helped with his behavior in my class. His attitude drastically improved. He smiled at me more, looked me in the eye, and was generally more pleasant to be around. In hearing more about his story from other coaches, it turns out Bobby had drastically improved from last year. Unfortunately he had spent time in and out of alternative school before this, and even in his orneriest of moods, was merely a shadow of what he once was.

One day, Bobby came to me in class and asked me if I would deliver his cleats to the head coach. "I'm through with this, man. I'm tired of the way I'm gettin' treated", he said. "How are you being treated, Bobby?" I replied, and he began explaining. Thus launched a 35 minute dialogue between he and I about why he shouldn't quit. It was truly one of those talks you see in the movies. You know, they usually go something like: player comes to coach, insisting he wants to quit. Coach talks to him about his concerns, and delivers a rousing and motivational word on why quitting can't happen, and that if he quits here, he'll regret it, and be a quitter the rest of his life. Player understands, does some hard thinking, and comes back and leads his team to the championship. I'm telling you it was textbook. Straight out of Mighty Ducks VIII: Mid-life Crisis. He understood, was encouraged, and was on the field that day. I felt it a small victory at least. Any time you can turn the attitude of a potential quitter, I think it at least deserves a pat on the back.

Things continued to sail smoothly, and Bobby's face was regularly seen in both class and practice. I had reached a student, and appealed to his inner spirit enough to stick with school and football; happy ending right? Wrong.

Bobby was caught buying pot in the bathroom last week. State Mandated Expulsion.

A sad story, no doubt about it. Pray for Bobby, he is in a difficult place.

If one hangs around a school long enough, I'm convinced even the hardest of hearts will grow near the students. It is difficult, though, because people are messy. Our brokenness is part of our humanity, but it will ultimately take its toll on us, and on those around us. Life happens, and it helps us understand God a bit more, but the cost of this understanding is not always the sweet part of the rose.

Wow

Hydro Photon SteriPEN Adventurer Handheld Ultraviolet Water Purifier:

I just thought this was the most ridiculous title for merchandise I've ever seen. Thought I would share it with the world.

Cheaters are Cowards

I guess this is a controversial title, for a controversial post, but if you take offense to it, I would beg the question, "why?":

Today is the official day set out for 9 weeks testing. 9 weeks testing is a day where every teacher tests each student in each class. Pretty ridiculous, but that's another entry. Going into the test, I have been suspect to cheating taking place. I fear it is a rampant problem, and is much worse than I ever realized before. Because of the suspicion, I decided I would make two tests in order to separate the "chaff from the wheat". The two tests are identical at first glance, and it would take a pretty well-honed attention to detail to notice the differences. I went ahead and prepared my two answer sheets, printed off the tests, and felt relatively good about my preparation. Yesterday at football practice, several of the players were "joking", saying "everyone got a cheat sheet fo' Coach Ware's test". I just put my arms up, signaling there was nothing I could really do but keep an eye out. Fast forward to this morning. The first period class entered the room, in their normal, jovial spirits, not at all indicating concern for the day of testing. As they were settling in, I saw one girl sneak out two quarter sized sheets of paper, and lay them behind her bag. When she turned around, I quietly moved over and intercepted the pieces. On them were the values for the trigonometric functions. As things continued to settle, she frantically looked around, wondering how she had misplaced her sheets. I also noticed one of my brightest students frantically crafting a small sheet of his own. As he put the paper in his coat pocket, I kneeled down and whispered, "I highly recommend you don't use the paper in your pocket". Other students wrote on their desk or moved seats, I even had to take a student's cell phone.

One one hand, I feel a small sense of accomplishment in catching cheaters. This is a craft that has been perfected by so many, so the competitor in me feels as if I've won. Then reality sets in, and there is confusion and discouragement. I understand academic desperation. I've been in high stress situations where cheating would be a temptation, this isn't a new story at all. What I really don't understand though, is how someone can be so apathetic and lazy in the classroom, but be so driven and focused to cheat. It is such a cheap and cowardly way out.

When I was in 4th grade, I was taking a test on the 50 states and their capitals. I was sitting by myself, with no one around and was stumped by Wisconsin. A student walked by and I whispered out, "what's the capital of Wisconsin?". He shrugged his shoulders and continued to walk, only to be met by my teacher at the door. They briefly conversed, and she walked over and took up my test. I told her I had not yet finished, and she said, "I know Blake, but you tried to cheat, and we can't have that". The events that followed are still fresh in my mind today. I remember the guilt I felt, and trying to explain (lie) to my mom about why I had to write a paper on why cheating doesn't work. It was a low place.

If all lies come from fear, then what is the fear these students are trying to evade? Work? Comprehension? Disappointment? I really don't know and might never. I'm honestly trying to not apply too much reason and logic to questions that aren't meant to be answered. All I can do is try, and try to love with a love not my own. After that, the chips will fall where they will, and hopefully we'll both both be the better for it. There is little I know, and much I don't, but I will never forget, that the capital of Wisconsin is indeed Green Bay.

The Second Trig Test

Today I gave the second test of the year to my Trig/Pre-Calc class. This is a senior level math class that I teach first and second period. When we entered the classroom, I asked all the students to go ahead and have a seat and clear off their desks. I saw a student who still had her calculator out and I asked her to put it away. "We can't use calculators?", she exclaimed, "no, we haven't used them during this entire unit, I'm sorry", I replied. She gave an exhaustive exhale, full of sass and attitude, and put her calculator away. Warning sign #1.

I also noticed two students who made it a point to move from their normal seats, to seats closest to several of the brightest students in the class. I asked them to return to their seats, and they looked at me with a puzzled glare, as to say, "how dare you ask me to return to the seat I sit in every other day of the year". Once they returned to their seat, I passed out the test. The first student whom I asked to move threw his test on the floor and said, "I fail". I walked over and said, "are you sure you don't want to try at least a few problems?" to which he replied, "I know how to do it, I just don't want to, you made me mad". "Ok, Deabrey", I said, and I took up his test. When I stood up, the second student who I asked to move also handed me her test and said, "I'm done". She handed me a test with nothing filled in but her name. "Are you sure you don't want to try any?", I asked. "No", she said, "I don't know how to do it, it's not like it's gonna come to me". "Ok, Ashley", I said, and took up the test. Warning sign #2.

Now I wouldn't pay as much attention to these warning signs, except that we took two class periods to review for this test. Nearly 100 minutes. In that time, I covered questions exactly like the ones they were tested on (side note - calculators were never used), and for some reason, I'm the bad guy. What's even more troubling, is that the second Trig class I teach has neither complained about the lack of calculators, nor given back their tests in defiance.

An overarching spirit of apathy runs rampant in this place. This has honestly been the root of my greatest challenges thus far. How do I make someone care about something. Truly, genuinely care. Caring has consequences. It takes work, it doesn't come easily at times, it requires commitment. This is commitment that some of these students have never experienced and my fear is that they never will. I know this is also where inspiration comes in, but inspiration is not found in calculators and easier tests. What it will take, I do not know, but all I know to do is keep trying, because someone has to care.

Glimpses of Fall

I woke this morning at my routine 4:30, snoozed a couple of times, and finally rose for my morning routine. I came to the kitchen, enjoyed a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats paired with a glass of Simply Orange, and took in the second Psalm. Afterward, I put the finishing touches on my lessons for the day and packed my things. I stepped out into a cool and tranquil Mississippi morning. The dew was fresh on the lawn and thick on the rear window of my car. In the midst of the hussle, it was good to stop and remember that the seasons do turn. The heat paired with the abundance of sunlight has been so prevalent for so long, that mornings and days felt like they kept repeating. Coming from a place where all four seasons existed, I partly wondered if that too was something that never came to Mississippi. Yet the seasons do continue, and the dew continues to remind.

It is still cool; roughly 70 degrees with a pale blue sky. What a day to be on the Delta.

The Day My AC Died

I don't ask for a lot. I consider myself to be a fairly low key, go with the flow kind of guy. I try to make the best of most situations and keep a positive attitude. It honestly just makes life easier and much more pleasant. Right? Ok well with that said, a week before school started, as I was preparing my classroom, I noticed that it was hotter in my classroom than it was outside. This is difficult to accomplish in August in Mississippi. After making some inquiries, I found that my air conditioning unit was indeed broken. It took about a week, but finally we got the ol' girl back in good running order, and my classroom wasn't exactly cool, but it was cooler than it was outside.

Fast forward to two weeks ago. I arrived in my classroom to find that it was again, much warmer in there than it was outside. I informed the necessary parties of the situation, and thought, "it'll be fine, we'll be able to tough it out together". Not true. That was a bad, bad thought. What resulted was several days of the most frustrating instruction to date. I couldn't get through three sentences without a loud exhale, paired with a conversation that went something like this:

"man it hot up in here Coach Ware, I'm about to fall out".

"Take it easy Denarius, you're just gonna have to be tough, I promise there's nothing I can do"

"Man Coach, my momma's gonna be mad when I fall out up in yo class".

"I know, Denarius, I know".

I literally wrote, "Please do not comment on the temperature of this classroom" on the board, but to no avail. It is amazing how ornery kids get when they are hot. They transform from relatively mild mannered teenagers, to mouthy and unreasonable. Ultimately I can only blame them so much. They are being held in a place they already didn't like, but are now hot while they are doing it. I tried to explain the basic principle that the more they complained about it, literally the more hot air was being expelled, and the hotter the room would get. They didn't like that either. I mean, I don't love being hot. I am more irritable, I'll admit it, but there's only so much one can do. What resulted from this debacle was several days of moving around various classrooms while the teachers were on their planning period. I was forced to hand out notes instead of my normal powerpoint presentations, but it was worth it, because Denarius wasn't hot.

A Small Success

Like many teachers, my homeroom period is one that causes great anxiety; it is the period I have traditionally looked forward to the least. Homeroom is a class intended for remediation or improvement of RIT scores, but is not in a subject I am really equipped to teach. Consequently every day feels like I am trying to paddle up class 5 rapids. Today was a little different. I think it was so for two reasons. One: I was talking to one of my football players yesterday after practice who is also in my homeroom. In our discussion, he was complaining about the heat and how he didn't like homeroom at all. After his comment, I turned, looked him in the eye, and told him that I needed him to be a leader in that class. He sighed and said, "but Coach, the heat be puttin' me to sleep", to which I responded, "Fred, leaders lead without condition, they don't make excuses or find ways out, they lead without condition". He understood yesterday and remembered this morning. Two: One of the students who is traditionally the most disruptive and difficult asked if they could listen to music after we were done. I thought back to a conversation I had had previously with a veteran teacher, who suggested I provide some sort of reward for my homeroom if they were cooperative. Instead of shooting the idea out of the water, I thought I'd try things a little differently, and experiment. After we finished our work, we listened to Yo Gotti and Lil Boosie for a little bit. Not the greatest rap artists I've ever heard, but it was amazing how much better I felt at the end of that period. Like I said, I didn't have any student's get a full ride to an Ivy League, but a small success. Grace and Peace.

Is this teacher fair?

Last week, we were asked to pick one or two classes and, at the end of class, pass out a sheet of paper and ask them to answer, anonymously, this question: Is the teacher fair? Oh boy. While this seemed like a golden opportunity for my students to obliterate what little self-esteem I have as a teacher, I actually found a surprising amount of encouragement in the majority of the responses.

I surveyed four classes, some being my trig students, some my geometry students, so the sample ranged from sophomores to seniors. They were all surveyed at the end of class as instructed, so any particular offenses or grudges that I re-aggravated in the 50 minute stretch would be fresh for reflection. I told them to be sure that they answered anonymously (which somehow one student still failed), and to elaborate on their answers if they wanted. I didn’t have much guidelines for responses outside of requesting that they not use profanity.

As said before, when I was able to read the results from the four classes, I found them to be different than initially anticipated. First, only one person wrote, “no, you suck!”. Along the same chord, I only received two that said, “NO!” with a frowny face drawn. Success. I knew that those would come, but I honestly anticipated I would have received more. I also had some of the more diplomatic responses like, “sometimes yes, sometimes no” which doesn’t grant a whole lot of guidance, but I’ll try and focus on the sometimes. The most surprising result, though, was the amount of “yes” answers I received back. This wasn’t surprising because I take great pride in creating a classroom built on unfairness, but rather, because I just assumed that the students thought so many of my procedures were unfair. Examples: I try to insist that students raise their hand to respond, I rarely let people use the restroom, and if you’re not in your seat when the bell rings, you are tardy. These policies are ones that the students have warred against since day 3, so I didn’t expect fairness to be something they associated with Coach Ware. My only explanation is that my students may actually understand that expectations exist for a reason. If they didn’t, I don’t see why they would have responded so generously. One girl’s response was particularly telling. She wrote, “I believe the teacher is fair, it is the students who are not fair to the teacher”. Wow.

All in all, the survey was an interesting way to gauge the classroom thus far. As for the one girl who failed at anonymity, it was ok, because on the back of her hall pass (which documented her name) she wrote, “hell yeah”. I guess I’ll take that.

Ambition Over Adversity

"Ambition Over Adversity" is a poem written by the late Tupac Shakur.  It reads:

Take one's adversity

Learn from their misfortune

Learn from their pain

Believe in something

Believe in yourself

Turn adversity into ambition

Now blossom into wealth

In our homerooms, we are hoping to remediate our students to prepare them for the English 2 state exam. In efforts of engaging the students with literature and poetry, I had them copy this poem and reflect on it.  Here is what one student wrote:

It's inspire me to write

The world could be mines

Ambition of a Rider

Thug life

Make me believe I can be perfect

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The Calm Before the Storm

This post has been a couple months in the making.  Not that it has taken a couple months to write, but rather nearly everything that has taken place in the past couple months has been for the time at hand.  From the beginning, I have said that we are trying to prepare for something that you can’t really prepare for.  Standing in tomorrow’s shadow, I am excited to finally put this theory to the test.  

I am now officially in Indianola, Mississippi and will begin my year as a teacher at Gentry High School tomorrow.  I have been getting established at the high school for a little over a week now.  I stopped in on Friday, July 30 to try and meet the administration and get some initial supplies for my classes.  What resulted from that was a spot on Gentry’s coaching staff.  Since then, I have been working with the quarterbacks in the afternoons and trying to build rapport with the team.  I am hopeful that serving as a football coach will help my profile on campus; they already seem somewhat receptive to me.  My experiences have shown that the athletic field is a classroom for life.  Skills gained and lessons learned from sport continue to resonate with me personally.  I hope I can encourage these same parallels for my players on the field, and more importantly, in the classroom.  Outside of practice, we have been in faculty meetings and in our classrooms making preparations for the year.  We have been fingerprinted and drug tested and completed a copious amount of paperwork.  

We have also heard candid words about the challenge we face as educators.  Within these words, though, I have seen glimpses of hope.  Several of the teachers at Gentry are also alumni.  Knowing that they were once in the shoes of many of the students at Gentry serves as a window into what can be done.  We are being given an incredible task in molding and shaping the youth of Indianola.  If their generation is anything like the previous ones, then time will show that we are literally educating the future of this community.  Several teachers at Gentry can point to instances where they have taught a parent and their child.  Many of the students here will likely never leave.  These truths and more add a  weight to what is taking place tomorrow and what will occur this year.  

Admittedly my nervous optimism is clouded with worrisome doubt, yet all the worry in the world will not change the reality that tomorrow is coming all the same.

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Apollo's Creed

A great encouragement in my time as a member of the Mississippi Teacher Corps has been the second-year teachers.  Again, because the program is two years, the term "first-years" indicate the teachers in their first year of the program and the term "second-years" are clearly those going into their second year.  I know, it's so UVA, right?  While their words are helpful and affirming, more than anything, their presence has been an encouragement for me.  The fact that they are still here, still standing, and still excited about things is a neat testimony to the effect this job can have on you.  In light of that, I've wondered if we wouldn't learn so much more from this experience than our students ever will.  

Our most recent assignment is to read one of the second year blogs in its entirety.  I chose to read the blog of a person we'll call Apollo.  You can follow his blog here (unfortunately, his real name isn't Apollo, but it is called "Creed's blog" and rather than reference that dismal band, I'll go with everyone's favorite villain turned tragic hero, Apollo Creed.  Sorry, I digress).  After reading Apollo's blog, I am amazed at the similarities of where I am now and where he was.  It helps that there seems to be a lot of continuity between their blog assignments and ours, so I can read a lot of his posts and relate to exactly what he's talking about.  A post in particular that everyone should read is his post from September 1st entitled, "My Community".  It is particularly helpful because he takes the time to describe the living situation in Indianola, which is where will soon be home.

Apollo is someone coming from a similar perspective.  He is young and relatively inexperienced.  He is a coach and is trying to balance that and teaching (which I hope to do).  He is also goal oriented.  A poignant goal he mentions several times is to "be a second year teacher".  These were words he wrote last September, and I'm proud to read that now, knowing that he is one.  Because of this blog, and my brief knowledge of him, I am excited he will be a second year teacher, and that he will be one in Indianola.  Those voices of reason and sanity will undoubtedly make the hard times a little better, and will remind us of the light that is at the end of the tunnel.

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Just trying to swim...

You thought I was kidding in my last post when I threatened to reflect on the summer training as a whole.  Good news for you, thousands of faithful readers, I wasn’t.  Before I expel the deepest truths of my heart, however, I think I first owe everyone an apology.  I think blogs are best kept and followed when they are updated on a fairly regular schedule.  I admit that the past few weeks of blogging have been sporadic at best, with two entries coming back to back, and with gaps in between.  For this, I am sorry.  I know that makes things more difficult to follow, and you have my promise that I will try and post with more regularity and sanity.  Now with that out of the way, we can get to the meat and potatoes of today’s installment - the summer training.  

The summer training is now mostly over.  We have a few more training sessions and a final presentation to give, but I would say the majority is now behind us.  Naturally, I have practical questions that still linger and different people will have different opinions on them.  So much of teaching is based upon experience and personal preference, so there are just some matters that won’t really have a consensus.  With that in mind, I can focus more on the overall effectiveness of the training on a more macro level.  In an earlier post, I said that, “summer training was the best preparation I could have for something I can’t really prepare for”, and those sentiments are still ringing true.  I was just talking with a guy who is a graduate of the program, and is now about to embark on his career as a principle.  We were relating on how we are both about to be “shown the ropes” of our new respective positions, and the inherent learning curve involved.

Ultimately, you can only talk about swimming so long before you get in the water.  After that, you sink or swim, but no one is Michael Phelps over night.  We had a great summer school experience, but it was still a watered down version of what to expect.  We have had fantastic instruction and help, but it is still instruction and help, and can only take us so far.  I don’t know that any part of our summer training could ever be considered as anything but helpful.  We were given a real opportunity to teach real kids in a real school.  That said, though, there is only so much that can be done to try and replicate what school will be like.

I went down to Indianola this weekend.  I walked on the campus a little bit, I shook hands with some of the local residents, and I roamed the town that will soon be called home.  In the midst of so much obvious uncertainty, I was encouraged by my trip.  While I still feel like so much of our summer training has been like trying to drink from a fire hose, I also know that the peace I’m ultimately looking for won’t come from my effectiveness as a teacher.  Barring I get hit by a bus or meet some other tragic end, the sun will continue to rise and fall, and August will continue to inch its way closer.  There’s nothing I can do about that, but I can make preparations and try to be ready for that which I cannot see.

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Meet Mr. Ware - part deux

Yesterday marked the conclusion of summer school 2k10 at Holly Springs High School.  It was apparent that relief was felt by the students and teachers alike.  I taught two classes, both being a review for the final they would take immediately after.  Final reflections on summer school will probably come in a different post at a different time, but currently I get to respond to a filming of myself teaching.  The last post was a reflection from a lesson I taught earlier in the summer, and this second filming hopes to document the progress I have made as an instructor.  Now I'm not going to be gloomy and act like I haven't improved or learned anything over the past five weeks, but I am going to say that I'm not there yet.  In light of this, I'm going to try and focus on some takeaways for the upcoming school year.

Informal assessments - Informal assessments are various ways to assess the student's comprehension of the subject being taught.  You can informally assess a class by asking a general true or false question to everyone or you can walk around during the independent practice and discern on an individual basis.  I have grown to enjoy informal assessments.  They are not only an opportunity for the teacher to see progress, but more importantly they are an opportunity for providing individual praise.  It is neat for a kid to call you over solely because they know you'll tell them "good job".

Consistency - Everyone has good days and bad days.  That's part of life.  Good days and bad days don't need to be part of your classroom management though.  As I watched this video, I was amazed at how well managed it was in comparison to classes in the past.  I know other factor go into it, but again, I think consistency makes a big difference, regardless of how your day is going.  Don't wait for the second or third outbreak to correct bad behavior (even if you're having a bad day).  Start strong, finish strong.  Yes it takes more energy and requires more of you, but I think ultimately the pay off is greater.

Detailed lesson plans do help - I don't love lesson planning.  I'll admit it.  It doesn't make my heart sing.  Consequently I wouldn't say that I love spending hours on them.  It is hard for me to get really excited about it, and also get really detailed with it.  I fall into the temptation of thinking that I can just fill the holes and improvise, but the truth is, the detail on lesson plans helps.  It serves as a more useful guide for the class, and at this point, I need all the help I can get.

All in all, I think I have a pretty good presence in front of the classroom.  It helps that I have a relatively loud voice and a decent amount of energy.  I looked and felt much more comfortable in front of the class as the days passed by, which is an encouraging step to take going into the fall.  Summer school was a very beneficial time for training.  I am grateful for the opportunity I had with it, and feel it has helped me prepare for the storm that will be August.

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Meet Mr. Ware, the teacher

Admittedly, I've never given teachers much credit.  I think it is partly because I've never been extremely uncomfortable in public speaking situations, and partly because I never realized how difficult it was to convey information to others.  I just never related with what they were doing, or figured it was all that difficult.  After actually taking note of my presence in the classroom, however, I have some new thoughts:

1) Filler words - Listen to anyone talk.  Your spouse, your kid, the teller at the bank, the President of the United States, anyone, and listen for the filler words/noises.  Filler words/noises are things that people cling to when they are thinking or are uncomfortable with silence. It can come in the form of "like" or "um" or "uh", or my personal favorite (at least in front of the classroom), "ok".  If I had a penny for every time I said "ok" during a lesson, I would have a lot of pennies.  Usually "ok" is used as a response to a question but I have found some pretty unnatural situations to plug in that little gem.  Duly noted.

2) Kids do so much when you're not looking- I was once a student and was not always on my best behavior.  I admit that.  I would be lying if I said I never spat a spitball or passed a note or did something that could eventually be disruptive for the learning environment.  I don't ever remember being as cunning as some of these students though.  I had the idea that I had a pretty good grasp on things taking place when my back was turned, but boy am I wrong.  People turned around in their desk, people hitting people, people blatantly talking when they shouldn't, the list goes on and on.  It's really incredible.  I don't know why the C.I.A. isn't taking instruction from some of these kids. Also duly noted.

3) Explanation is hard - Because I have learned some of these lessons time and time again in various classes I forget how much I take some basic principles for granted.  Consequently in trying to explain an idea to a student, I literally trip over my own thought process, because I have never thought of how to explain it.  Something that may seem obvious is not always so.  Breaking down ideas into bite-sized morsels of information takes a lot of creativity, and it is frustrating when you try, and no matter what you say, the student is not getting it.  I tend to enter into a flurry of words that creates an incomprehensible hailstorm of confusion, and then realize that I have five less minutes to try and explain it.  Great.

These are initial reactions.  There is plenty more to come, but it should be noted how thankful I am for the whole summer school experience.  I can't imagine starting out the fall semester not knowing what I know now.  The challenge and opportunity is now employing these thoughts and others to my practice of teaching.

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The Reluctant Disciplinarian

The Reluctant Disciplinarian, by Gary Rubinstein, is a helpful guide written after surviving a difficult teaching situation through an alternate route program.  The author took part in Teach for America, and offers insight based off of his successes and failures in the classroom.  In reading through The Reluctant Disciplinarian, I was reminded of how much of a first-year teacher I am (aka how much I have to learn), but was also comforted by the fact that that is OK.

Since we have started our time with the Mississippi Teacher Corps, it feels a general consensus about the first-year teachers is that we don’t know what we’re doing.  We are regularly evaluated for our work in the classroom and are given very helpful feedback on the strengths and weaknesses of our lessons.  Admittedly, I have found this learning curve to be difficult at times as I would prefer be naturally good at whatever it is I am doing.  This is a simple reality of life that has its consequences.  When receiving feedback, and realizing that some of your issues are habitual (for example, using OK as a filler word), you grow frustrated, and with this regular frustration, discouragement is born.  It is easy to think “why can’t I get that right?” or “why can’t I put this in a way for the students to really grasp?”, but I think an ultimate answer is “how long have I been trying?”.  The Reluctant Disciplinarian was a comforting reminder of the fact that I am still very new at this and that I don’t know what I’m talking about, and that is part of it.  With the nature of what an alternate route teaching program is, there is obviously going to be a learning curve.  It will come with instruction and it will come with classroom management.  Rubinstein’s words grant hope that this is normal.  

Within the book, there are practical tips for first year teachers that will be very helpful to think about and hopefully employ during the next two years.  What will be interesting to see, and hopefully track, is what tips will I develop from my own experience?  What content will I take away? not only for further teaching, but more for life.  Something tells me the lessons learned from teaching will have avenues and applications for life outside of the classroom as well.

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Parent Calling

When we first received orders to call home to parents, I was admittedly a little angry.  The whining martyr in me thought, “I hardly have time to plan my lessons and keep up with class, now I have to call home too?  I just don’t have time for this.”  Admittedly wrong attitude.  Clearly I didn’t vocalize any of these sentiments, but due to the nature of this post and in hopes of full disclosure, it is good to lay grounds of where I was coming from, so then in turn you can see where I am now.

I am neither a stranger to talking with parents, talking on the phone, or talking with parents on the phone.  I’ve had several jobs that have accommodated for both, most recently in fundraising for a prep school, so I was never nervous about the calls themselves, but rather the timing of it all; I’ve always felt I could speak with parents relatively easily.

Last thursday, as I was working at a local coffee shop in Oxford, I finally decided I needed to take the plunge into parent calls.  I pulled my class roster and the numbers we have on record, and began dialing.  I realized that once I pressed the send button, this truly was a point of no return, and anything could happen on the other end.  Also, first on my list was the parent of a child who is consistently disruptive in class.  As you can imagine, those are the calls you would like to avoid if possible as you’re not sure how their attitude is toward your treatment of their son.  The phone rings, a woman answers, “hello?” is heard from the other end.  I respond, “hi, this is Blake Ware, Algebra 1 teacher at XXXXX XXXXXX High School, I am one of XXXXXXXXX’s teachers” (you understand why the X’s are there).  All I get back is an “ok?”, so thus I begin this explanation of who I am and the reasoning for my calling.  It was clear that this parent, and many others, were initially very surprised for the call.  After gaining ground and conversing for a few minutes, she thanked me for my time and expressed appreciation for my call.  This would be the first of many conversations that would unfold in this way.  Initial confusion, but ultimate gratitude.  

My parent phone calls last week were definitely one of the high points of the entire summer school experience thus far.  The words I received in that stream of calls were all genuine and sincere, and all expressed gratitude for keeping them in the loop with their son’s or daughter’s education.

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The First Few Weeks

Summer school has proven to be the best preparation I could have for something I can’t really prepare for.  The demands of being a teacher (heaven forbid an an effective one) are great.  Work regularly has gone late into the night, and often begins well before any creature should ever be awake or be expected to be productive.  Among the daily duties of a first year teacher are producing lesson plans, finding appropriate worksheets, and the ever allusive attempt at trying to make the material relevant.  Particularly linear equations.  Seriously?  One of the bewildering mysteries is how it can take so much longer to prepare for teaching a class than it actually takes to teach the class.  

Of the many qualities I have grown to respect more and more in veteran teachers, a big one is resiliency.  I think back to some of the most effective teachers in my academic past, and am amazed at the time they have invested into teaching, and in their ability to still be effective.  This truth confirms (at least in my mind) that teaching really is an art.  Some are natural teachers.  They have the tools and are naturally more apt to command a class of algebra students.  I am convinced, however, that all the natural ability in the world cannot compensate for the hours upon hours spent planning, preparing, and sharpening the craft.  

A life dedicated to this cause is to be celebrated and honored.  They put in countless hours and make sacrifices that are often tucked behind closed doors, so it is clear that the motives of effective teachers is neither praise nor profit.  There is a certain love and respect for fellow man that it seems effective teachers have.  They look within every child, no matter how difficult, and look for the solutions, not the problems.  There is opportunity and potential in all students.  Effective teachers find the key to unlock that potential.  That totally sounds like it belongs on a motivational poster, but it really is true.  

So as I reflect on my first few weeks of summer school, I clearly have a great deal to reflect on.  Things will only get more difficult as the weeks and months continue.  Instead of teaching twice a day, it will be 7.  Instead of focusing on the Algebra 1 curriculum alone, I will probably have another subject (or two) to work with.  I have no qualms in acknowledging that it will be just that, work.  Work is not bad, though.  I’m reminded of a great quote I heard recently.  A father said to his son once, “what are your eyebrows for?”, the son, puzzled, shrugged his shoulders and waited expectantly for some sort of wisdom to be imparted.  The father smiled and said, “to keep the sweat out of your eyes”.  Back to work.

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Equal-Opportunity Teaching...

While in our graduate class, our professor, Dr. Monroe, provided us with three different strategies for classroom participation to experiment with.  There was no real agenda or desired outcome that needed to take place, rather she just encouraged us to try it because it is new, different, and because we might like it.  I chose the "cold calling" strategy.  This strategy requires you to put all of your student's names in a cup, and instead of asking a question and seeing who knows the answer, you randomly pull a name out of the cup, and the unfortunate soul is at the mercy of your question.  Now think back to your Algebra 1 class.  Close your eyes, remember the smell of that stale classroom, the bland paint on the walls, and the brutally monotone voice of your teacher.  In spite of these hurdles, you may have been a confident and bright young freshman who conquered absolute value equations with poise, but I surely was not.  As a student, I would not have faired well with this tactic, and so it is in light of this reality, this harsh twist of ironical fate, that I revel in "going to the cup".

Class started as it normally does, with the students waltzing into our room and quietly beginning their bell-ringer assignment.  I gave them a few minutes to work on the assignment, partly to be sure everyone had a chance to work on it, but more to ensure no one had an excuse to not participate.  When a few minutes had elapsed, I posed a question to the class.  "Who here has ever heard of, or knows what it means to be someone of equal-opportunity?  An equal-opportunity employer maybe? or an equal-opportunity judge?"  Some students confidently raised their hands and  conjured up explanations of what it meant to be equal-opportunity, and after a few guesses, one actually hit the nail square on the head.  "It's what happens when everyone get's an equal opportunity" exclaimed one of the bright eyed students on the first row.  "Exactly", I replied.  I continued, "I want to be sure that everyone in class has an equal opportunity to answer the questions that come up in class, so instead of calling on volunteers, I've developed a new solution."  "This cup holds the name of everyone in class, and every time I have a question, I'll just pull a name from the cup instead of asking for volunteers.  This will ensure everyone gets a chance to participate in class!"  Cue the grumblings.  In spite of their apparent distaste for my cup, what resulted was an engaged and attentive class.  They realized that with every question came another role of the dice, another round of algebraic roulette, and that if their name was drawn, they wouldn't be able to opt out.  I wasn't picking on anyone, but rather I was picking on everyone.  

I have found that the practice of the cold calling technique has its pros and cons, depending on how it is executed.  If I pull a name, and then don't replace it in the cup, the student can rest and not pay attention after they have answered one question.  If I pull a name, and then return it to the cup, it runs the risk of a student being called on more than once, and consequently other students not being called on at all.  All in all, I have found my brief practice of being an "equal-opportunity" teacher has been positive.  It requires students pay attention, and is an informal way of assessing the student's ability.  I recommend a cup, hat, bowl, or other object to aid with class participation, and plan to employ this tactic with my classes in the fall.

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Delta Autumn

Since the program started, I have thought to myself (and expressed to others) how much work I didn't realize was involved in teaching.  It was predicted early on that I would find a new respect for teachers, and these predictions have proven accurate.  As I read through page after page of Delta Autumn, I came across new challenges of teaching that I had not even thought of and in one week, I have found that the amount of work that goes into teaching is substantial.  Reading Delta Autumn was an even more sobering testament to this.  

The book opened with the educational history of Mississippi.  The challenges that plague the state today are very much a result of the long and storied segregation of its past.  These pages provided a brief but in depth look at the past, and set up the framework for addressing the current problems.  After this background was provided, the book went straight into the first week of school.  Put simply--there is so much to prepare for.  Supplies to be equipped with, policies to hold fast to, people to meet and know, things to have in order and the list goes on and on.  I am thankful to be reading and knowing this now, but again, it is a lot to take in and will be a lot to work through.  

After the background information was laid, and the first week preparations were established, the remainder of the book spoke to what happens when you're actually in the classroom and in your first year of teaching.  Managing your classroom, your student's parents, and the needs of each student are all big elements of the teaching profession.  These elements are all big, and seem to be particularly demanding in this type of academic environment.  For those who haven't read the book, here is a very telling excerpt:

"Drugs are bad.  Drugs in schools are worse, and they may be pervasive in your school.  If you see something that looks like a drug deal, it probably is.  Marijuana and crack cocaine are probably the most common illegal substances at school.  What's odd is, nearly everyone knows the dealers, including your administration.  In some cases, the dealer's parents know.  You face a daunting and complex battle should you choose to intervene in every situation involving drug deals." (Delta Autumn, 58)

Now I do not consider myself to be a naive person.  I have been sure to ask a lot of questions of a lot of people, and I had a good idea of what I was signing up for when I was applying for this program.  I also have worked in inner city and underprivileged situations in the past, and am no stranger to the many hardships and addictive vices that plague humanity.  That said, however, I can't help but still be a little alarmed at the real life scenarios that I will undoubtedly face.  I already foresee that a challenge will be keeping an optimistically realistic attitude toward my work and students, as it is clear that there is a lot of potential to grow very jaded and skeptical.  Fighting that will be a challenge in itself, but I have to believe that overcomming that battle will pay dividends for my professional, mental, and emotional health.  

In my conclusion, I'll leave you with a statement that was told to me last week as we were talking about classroom management. One of the second year teachers said, "I just don't let them go to the bathroom, unless they are pregnant, if they are pregnant you have to let them go, but besides that I don't allow it".  Wow. 

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Reflections on Week One

For months, the Mississippi Teacher Corps has simply been something I've talked about.  People would ask me if I had plans to go back to school or had thought about the next step in my career, and I could simply explain the Teacher Corps as my next step.  This week has been a sobering adjustment to that response.  Instead of looking forward to the Mississippi Teacher Corps, I am now in the Mississippi Teacher Corps.  

The week began in a very appropriate manner with two days of mostly orientation.  We took part in basic new student procedures and are now equipped with a school id, school email, and a new found knowledge of the BEAUTIFUL campus of the University of Mississippi.  We also took part in a very important CPR certification course, though I pray I never have to use it.  

Another bit of our orientation focused on introducing participants to the State.  Mississippi is a fascinating place, with puzzling ironies that run deep.  A long history of hate and oppression casts a shadow here, and these elements will surely contribute to many of the frustrations I face as a teacher.  One question, for example, is why does malnurishment plague a state with some of the most fertile soil in America?  It will be interesting to determine my own understanding of the State and the issues that plague her.  Unfortunately the ramifications of this hate are still being felt in a powerful way, especially in Mississippi's Delta region.  Schools and communities are still largely segregated, not due to law, but seemingly due to tradition.

Of all the questions that have been discussed in our short time here, one clear answer is that there are no easy answers.  In this harsh reality, though, I have found hope in the solidarity of the Mississippi Teacher Corps.  A clear message that has been conveyed from day 1 is that we are not alone in this.  The challenges of a first year teacher will not be unique as 23 other people will be sharing the same experiences.  Furthermore, most first year teachers will be in districts where second year teachers have taught or are already teaching.  Finally, the program and its participants are held in very high esteem at the University, and consequently the University is extremely supportive in whatever way it can be.  This is welcome news and will mean a lot as the weeks and months pass by.

Week two starts today.  I look forward to the new adventures and challenges that will present themselves, and will be sure to keep you all posted.

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Welcome to MTC!!!

Hello All,

As some of you will remember, my last blogging experience revolved around a seemingly aimless trip to Europe.  Within it, I fear a lot of the blog's content revolved around my lack of money, inability to find work, and general distaste for the French.  Well you'll be glad to know that I am now a little older, a little wiser, and am back at it with a new, improved, and hopefully more optimistic story to tell.

On June 1, I began a graduate program through the University of Mississippi (Ole Miss) called the Mississippi Teacher Corps.  It is a two year program where college graduates from around the country gather to teach at "critical needs" schools in Mississippi, while pursuing a Master's degree in Education, specifically Curriculum and Instruction.  I myself will be teaching at a school in Indianola, Mississippi.  Now as you scratch your head and think to yourself, "self, why have I heard of Indianola, MS?", allow me to excitedly remind you that Indianola is the home of Mr. B.B. King!

Though the school year will start in August, the program starts in June so we can get some experience in the classroom.  Everyone in my class (First Years as we're referred to) will teach summer school.  Consequently I will be living in beautiful Oxford, Mississippi until late July, and afterward will make my move to the Delta.

All participants in the Teacher Corps keep blogs.  They serve as a way for the instructors to track work, as well a way for the participants to personally reflect on their teaching.  This blog will do just that, and I hope that those of you who follow it find some sort of enjoyment in it.  I guess I envision it to be like a live version of Conroy's classic The Water is Wide, except the circumstances are different, and he has talent.  I also want to forewarn all of the grammatically savvy people out there that I am not, so please accept my apologies up front.

I hope these words find you well, wherever you are.  Sorry for all of the hyperlinks.

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