Conquering Crisis.

I know I'm asking for psychological trauma when I ask my students to write essays about a crisis in their lives, and how they learned to cope. It hurts to know that they've been through so much pain. I had them start by writing a poem and then pinpointing the crisis in one word. Then we outlined our thesis and topic sentences together. I was trying to talk about how the thesis is the heart of the essay when I looked up and realized how many of them were lost in thought. Realizing that I had opened an industrial size can of worms, I had to stop the lesson and play social worker for awhile. We gathered into a circle as I explained that I wasn't trying to hurt them by forcing them to tell difficult stories, I was trying to help them remember how strong they are in their ability to learn how to heal. Their lives are hard and the expectations on them so low. Please just let me raise the bar they set for themselves.

Walking the line between getting too involved in students' stories and coming off callous and uncaring is difficult. I sense myself galvanizing, protecting my mushy heart. I am starting to understand the professional distance that you must keep from your students, or you will hold their pain in your chest cavity, too. It still amazes me what they will tell you about themselves and their lives if you provide the opportunity. M came out to me today, while A wrote a seething poem about his father's death. C talked about being neglected by her parents. R talked about being sexually abused. S talked about being beat up daily for being the smallest kid on the block. All of them laid out narratives about pain, fear, hatred, feeling unloved, not belonging, being depressed, being unhealthy, not having enough to eat. Living in darkness at home because their parents can't pay the bills.

Talk about perspective. Fuck the digital divide, what about the quality of life divide? While it's true that my students aren't being exposed to technology in the same way as their suburban counterparts, which is horrible... that's really not high on my priority list right now, when they have such basic needs that aren't being met. I always bring my lunch but I rarely eat it, I usually give it to my students. Last year, we noticed that they were wearing hoodies to school in January, because they didn't have coats. I started raiding thrift stores for warm things to slyly pass to them as gifts when no one was looking.

I tell these stories not to shock you, not to bring praise to myself or to tell you that everyone should work in an urban public school. Clearly, not every teacher enjoys, or is meant for this struggle. To me it's not an option, it's not a choice, and I don't say that heading for martyrdom. I feel an intense connection to this struggle, which was my own, and in helping these students find value and purpose in their lives. I know that these students are going to be responsible for the widespread cultural change in this country that I hope I live to see. I know that they will be the ones to ask the right questions, demand answers, unite and stand up for their rights.

Pac said, "the elevation of today's generation, if I can make them listen." They weren't listening today. And I was asking the wrong questions. I've learned that being stern is how they see that I care for them. Having high expectations and maintaining consistency is how I gain their respect. Calling them out is how they know I'm looking out for their backs. They're still crazy, self-involved and won't get off of myspace, so I grab their myspace addresses and remind them to finish their essays.

I don't know what I'm trying to say, I'm just trying to speak their language. On Monday, they caused a first draft that I've been trying to write for a year. I love this group already, too. This is going to be a long life of saying hello and goodbye to students, and hoping that I can give them skills that will help them work hard on this world.

xo
lo

jeopardy as a test of skillz

their homework for the weekend was to go around the neighborhood and find 5 signs or business awnings that are grammatically incorrect. i specifically instructed them to NOT go inside to the business and let them know about their spelling errors, that's not the point, ha! the point is to get them thinking about grammar outside of my classroom.

speaking of grammar, this all came about when i was grading their first essays of the summer. while there is differentiation within every class, i was impressed that their skill level is higher than many of my detroit students, but there are certain students (mostly those who grew up elsewhere and have recently moved to the US) who need desperate help. while i love assessment and am constantly assessing, i hate tests, especially grammar recitation and memorization. ugh. so we played jeopardy and i also treated it as a grammar test. they received a group grade and 5 points for every correct answer, toward a 50 point test. every second wasted was one less question they'd get to answer towards points.

i was picking my jaw up on the floor when i saw how they would write down a sentence, pass the paper to each group member for approval, go over it, read it out loud and then answer the question. different students were coming to the board for each question and they were pooling their resources like it was a job they'd been doing for years. in the end, the lowest grade on the test was 40/50. not too shabby, though i need to figure out what that mental roadblock is between knowing the grammar rule but not using it in your writing. laziness, i think that's its name.

i have been blessed to receive astoundingly positive feedback from my students, who are apparently telling their parents that they love my class. my supervisors have asked for my curriculum for the summer, so that they can try to replicate it next year if i decide not to teach summer school again. we'll see how it goes, but it feels fabulous to know that i'm enjoying the work so much, and am doing well at it. the math teacher, however, is having trouble getting them to behave and focus in her class. i suspect that her approach is more traditional, and i also suspect that they're acting out to hide low skills, as most of them are in this summer program for credit recovery in math.

but leaving on a good note, i'm halfway through the program and yesterday the highlight was again johanna. i just talked to my co-worker (who i'm subletting from this summer) about johanna, because she had her in math last year. she told me that 1/2 of the emails she would write about student stories were about johanna, so i laugh that this is the 2nd blog in which i've mentioned her. we had a roundtable dicussion (i'm scaffolding towards a socratic seminar) and i told them that it was crucial that there was no handraising and that i was not a part of the conversation. they had to figure out a way to communicate with one another. she suggests using one of thomas' drumsticks as a talking stick, and what began as a heated argument turned into a great discussion. hassid brought in jelani's opinion, by asking him about what he thought. i'm thoroughly impressed by these students, for real.

and with that, i'm headed off downtown to go see krs-one fo' free, suckas!! you wish you were in new york during the summer time!

xoxo
lo

"Whatupdoe?" you mean "What's good?"

so i played "whatupdoe?" with my students on the first day, and they laughed because "that's not how we do, Lauren." but it's Detroit, and i miss Detroit, so they played along and got all exaggerated in their "What Up DOE?!?!". they're great. already, johanna is giving me excellent feedback about my teaching style. coming from 9th grade at the school i'm teaching at in the fall, she knows the culture and whether she knows it or not, is inviting me into it.

i feel at home in the bronx already. i live in an industrial district turned arts and antique district, within walking distance from the summer program with ASPIRA. my students are great, but don't tell my Earhart students that. making the transfer from past students to present is going to be difficult, especially when i still keep in touch with them via email. oh, and myspace. (see links to the right)

i have very quickly built a 6 week summer curriculum for this pilot program, based on building basic reading and writing skills that the students will need in high school. i'm currently reading a ton of young adult novels to nail down the fall, see what they already have on the shelves before i place a book order. there's a lot that i could make work. i love being able to take an idea and go with it. will communicate more about the English/Global aligned curriculum asap, especially for you, trigger.

xoxo
lo

p.s. missing my smacdown team. you're all in my hearts and in my lesson plans. ha.

gotta roll...

Honestly.

My dear friend Nickie P. and her crew the 7Chakraz played a show with Doodlebug, formerly of Digable Planets (love them! and love him, he was such a cool cat). One of 7C's best songs is called honesty, in which the hook is, "Honesty, I keep it real with you, you keep it real with me..." I feel that I'm sifting through so much dishonesty lately and I just want to break it all open with the truth. ("All I ever wanted was the truth from you")

So things fall together, not apart right now (wish I could teach that book next year, but I think they read it in 10th grade anyway). I found a wonderful unit on greek mythology to teach, and now I'm settling on research for Mesopotamia and Ancient Egypt. Know any great first-hand texts? I feel like it's going to be a year of creating our own mythologies, ha. I have soooo much work to do before I get there on the 1st. It's hard to believe I'm leaving in 3 weeks. I feel prepared and ready, but not so much.

Here's a partial list of what I think I may teach this fall. Suggestions or comments always welcome.

➢ The Epic of Gilgamesh (and some Sumerian creation myths)
➢ The Egyptian Book of the Dead
➢ The Art of War – Sun Tzu
➢ Li Sao (The Lament) – Qu Yuan
➢ The Ramayana
➢ The Mahabharata
➢ Theogony - Hesiod
➢ Metamorphoses – Ovid (includes Echo and Narcissus, Psyche, Persephone, Prometheus, etc)
➢ The Odyssey - Homer

I'm looking forward to this already!! It's going to be new and exciting for me to try and figure out relevancy to my students' lives when working with such old texts. But I'm determined to do it and do it well!

Cheers,
Lauren

sapster emergent

The days are waning. I keep changing the countdown on the whiteboard. I am dreading that last day, I'm dreading the last time I'll ever see them again. Every June is going to be emotional for me, as I say "I won't forget you" and mean it, but do they hear it? On Monday, Rick was talking about how I'll just forget them as soon as I touch down in New York. Can I blame myself for his callousness? For his unwillingness to believe that people do care about his well-being? I go out of my way to express my concern for them on the daily, but how long does it take to unlearn a life where care is not a par for the course?

This has been a really difficult week. The community is so upset by the loss of a student in a horrible accident over last weekend. I have been oscillating between just carrying on, hoping that the focus on work might take their mind off of loss for just a moment, and wanting to talk about how they feel, where they're at. I'm baffled and amazed when they connect their feelings to a book we read in February ("remember, in Bang, how each family member deals with the loss of Jason in a different way? that's kind of how it is. some people are crying, some people are silent, some don't know how to react, so they don't. some lash out." says Lakendra).

In my homeroom, two of the usual suspects chose a very immature way to respond to Eberardo's death. But as we just wrote about last week, when responding to Persepolis, sometimes people also use humor to get themselves through times of crisis. A student pointed out this connection to the class, as well. When it feels like their reaction may be inappropriate to some people, I was pleading with them to have compassion for their classmates, to help them to become better people. I watched the tears form in Destinee's eyes when I said it.

I know that every class of students that I have is going to be special and unique. I know, too, that I will find patterns of behaviors as I meet new students. "I have another Angus in my class", I'll write to Mrs. K and say. But this is my first class of kids. My heart isn't being worn on my sleeve, I've fully taken it out of my body and put it in their hands this year. This is a dangerous way to teach, for my own personal well-being. It takes so much energy, I find myself exhausted and needing to be taking 3 hour naps every afternoon. I need to dig deeper into myself to find the energy for next year, because it will be even more challenging.

There is no other way for me to approach my students, though. I did not want to go to the memorial service, but I need to support them. I need to show them how much I care, even if they continue to question my intentions. I can never aim to "fix" them, but to show them respect and support in their endeavors. I have learned so much from them this year and have been blessed that they have let me into their lives, both in and out of school.

They have made contact with me, and if they thought it was going to be a brief encounter, they are mistaken. I will miss them so much, but hope that they'll come back to update me on their growth.

*sigh*

xo
lo

10 days left...

If I happened to be Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I would start writing the book "One Hundred Years of Solitude" on a day like today. It's one of those days when the wind just breathes change into your life. The weather can only be described as brewing; it's Michigan so you have no idea what to expect. Bring a sweatshirt, an umbrella and a tanktop, just in case. Suddenly, you wake up from ridiculous dreams and feel that you have become a new person. You rise ready for the work you are to undertake. Obstacles that seemed to threaten your well-being yesterday seem to be miniscule and obsolete. Each thing you do seems well-timed, appropriate and urgent.

I only have 10 days of school left with my kids. It makes me want to cry, and I already have. During 6th hour, after they've left the room and she is off on an errand, running off photocopies. I think about how much we've done together this year, and how I am probably the only one romanticizing it this way. The personal successes that so many of my students have had, whether it's jumping two or three grade levels in reading comprehension, more organized and fluid writing, or beginning to discover their voice in their writing. They are getting sad about the end of the year, but they are thinking more of the social aspects of 8th grade than romanticizing all of the work we did in class. Still, under the restrictions that I've dealt with, I believe that I have brought something to the table this year. I didn't get to do nearly enough poetry, I didn't get to run my zine unit. I'm hoping to test run that unit this summer, and boy do I have a lot of planning to do for the fall.

But somehow, after a night of celebration and karaoke, I woke up this morning completely lucid. Got breakfast with Brandon and Audry. Returned home to clean and plan. I'm teaching a poem about Ellis Island, so I'm trying to figure out how to structure an environment in the classroom where the students understand what happened there. I keep tossing around all sorts of ideas. Have yet to nail something down, but I'm feeling crafty and creative. The assistant superintendent of DPS will be stopping by to watch me teach tomorrow, so it's gotta be good.

Hope all is well in your world. I'm curious what's brewing in the clouds over you.

xo
Lo

a whole new quest!!

so much has changed in the past two months. i have accepted a job at a phenomenal high school in the Bronx... so it's back to the city for me. i'll be the new 9th grade English teacher, and we're going to do it up right! i am so incredibly excited about planning the new year (i get to plan my whole curriculum!!), meeting the whole crew, which i know will be my family in the south bronx. much more soon, since it's friday and i'm braindead from a week of crazy.

angus came up to me yesterday and actually admitted that he wants to pass. this is a feat for him. it was in the lunch line, and he pulled me aside, looked both ways as if someone was listening. it must be a secret for it to work, he told me through telepathy. i wrote him a letter about how proud i am of him and how i also want to see him pass, but it's going to be work. he's going to have to read a whole book, cover to cover. i want it to be "to kill a mockingbird", because i know he can handle it. he won't yet. but i think i've won him over.

a poem in the meantime.

* * * * *

everyone has always
told me that
motherhood is my mantra
but not yet.
we have many
sunsets by ourselves.
as it closed in,
tailgated the horizon
this evening,
i felt the full shine
of solitude in
both shoulders,
both hips.
knew in my knuckles
why i should carry
on my name.

standing on the brink
of why i breathe,
i understand what
it must be like to
never see your own
single shadow.
but many sunrises
on vacant shores, first.
many sands will find
my path before i
become two.

xo
lo