rudderless

I haven’t written in a while and I am expecting to be observed some time in the next two weeks, so I don’t have time now either, but I felt neglectful and had to drop by. Last week was pretty intense — aside from finding out I’m soon to be observed by my principal, who is so difficult to read, I’ve also got this enveloping anxiety over potential lay-offs and a powerlessness I confront when I feel I need to protect my students from their own parents. Not an experience worth having, I must say.

It’s only happened once before this most recent event (finding out about abuse of a student at the hands of a parent) but this time there was a twist.

One of my students was absent for a week – Thursday through Thursday – and when he returned on Friday, he told me simply, “They forgot to wake me up.” I sent him to the guidance counselor who eventually got the full story – mom and step-dad left for their country, leaving my student and his older-but-still-a-minor brother home alone for who-knows how long. They allegedly told their sons they’d return in a week or so, but who knows what to believe at this point? So, of course, the boys never went to school. Why he even showed up on Friday is a mystery to me.

And what at first seemed to just be educational neglect immediately became child endangerment, leaving the counselor and I to call ACS. And yet with no real way to make sure my student is safe or cared for. The uncertainty of his future eats me up. Couple that with the uncertainty of my professional future, and you can imagine the knots my stomach has been in. Ugh. And, like I said, I’m about to be observed. It’s like taking a major exam the day before you’re expelled. And if I am laid off what happens to my status with the Fellowship or my Masters? Can schools lay off ESL teachers, even if their new, given they need a certain number to remain in compliance? The fact that my supervisor didn’t know the answer to this and that her only reply to my wonder was, “They’ll go after money first” simply left me more confused.*

*I guess they could take Randi’s advice and offer retirement incentives. Maybe that’s what she was referring to.

so alone

I am sitting in front of my class as they try not to fidget in the meeting area. My chart, with it’s ready-made, uniform Teaching Point, hangs beside me on my easel. But I know it won’t connect. I know there is more I must do for my students to make sense of this and work with the lesson to actually learn something. But I had not thought this through enough until now. I resent the fact that our majority-ELL school is using this Teachers College curriculum that has to be reconfigured and adjusted at every turn for it to even come close to what our students needs. I am unprepared because I hadn’t thought this lesson through enough.

sigh … I often use my art skills to improvise visuals. But I hate myself when I am this unprepared. The weight of knowing how far behind these students are and how much each moment matters often makes my heart race.

My partner has at times criticized me for being too passionate or caring too much. I feel like a person would collapse under all this pressure if he/she didn’t care as much as I do and feel as responsible as I do. I think then is when people start to burn out. You aren’t completely spent until you allow yourself to become ineffective. I am so conscious of not wanting to remain there – in that moment, with materials I need, and yet still feeling lost and ineffective. I want to do this right. And I often feel alone in that urgency and that desperate need – and that feeling of being so inadequate. I go into some teachers’ classrooms and they look so well put-together and then I hear them say they do nothing at home to prepare. How do they do it all? I struggle just to keep up with all the paperwork, the notes I’m supposed to keep on kids, the papers to grade, the homework to check, the lessons to write (and not just the lesson for each class but also for each small group strategy lesson)…

don’t look too long at that photo

That is advice for both you and I. That photo below is from the classroom I will be inheriting in September and, wow, it is such a mess. There must be about 100 unleveled books scattered all over. The teacher whose room it was is retiring — and, it seems, had been in retirement-mode all year — so I guess she didn’t care much about what the room looked like or if the kids had enough books at their level.

I wanted to add a teacher-y photo but every time I look at these pictures, there’s a subtle feeling of panic that creeps up my spine. Just look at those bins and that ugly carpet. Ick. And in case you are thinking, “well, she was moving out” – this is how it looked while class was still in session.

I had wanted to spend this whole summer mentally-preparing myself for my own class; instead, I’ve been teaching and taking classes. My mind is overbooked; no room for thoughts of third grade. And, especially, no room for imagining how I might make this room conducive for learning and inviting of creativity.

What have you found to be essential for laying out your classroom and putting a touch of your “self” into it? What helped you to decide decorations, etc?

I think decorations and such are regulated at my school. That may be a good thing, but I hope it isn’t too restrictive.

From Cush to..

So, it’s Friday, Sept. 21, the last day at the television job I’ve had for the last 7 years. I loved working for television news. It was easily the best job a person like me could’ve had — I was able to totally absorb myself in news; watch national and local news all day on tv, scrounge the internet for crime news in the ten states I covered, and read newspapers. I will so miss this job.

On Monday I begin my journey as a NYC Teaching fellow. And in another week I begin field training at a high school. I feel terrified, like I’m in way over my head and will constantly be running to catch up with the land that is rushing forward beneath my feet.

I want a job that is challenging, I really do; one that is meaningful and makes me feel like I am giving my all (and getting satisfaction in return). But I also fear failure — my own and my students’.

I used to be one of those 24/7 full-time political activists who thought they could confront all obstacles and change the world because they had the plan, the organization, and the determination. I gave up in the face of constant failure, or overblown, meaningless advances, and the rigid, self-righteous insistence that we were doing what was right, necessary, and better for the world, “even if they don’t know it yet”. I don’t think I’m that narrow-minded anymore. I’m not constantly trying to “get with” the “right” answers that are “right in front” of me. And I’m not trying to silence my questions or disagreements because I assume off the bat that I’m wrong. These days, I am unsure of a lot of things, but I am sure that that’s okay. Plus, I am way more open to learning from and admitting my mistakes. I no longer feel like there’s a right way to understand everything, with great detriment to the curiosity and unique approaches of everyone around me, and then some.

But I do still find the world, as it is, intolerable. So, I had to find work where I felt sufficiently like a martyr (just kidding), or find work that is truly meaningful. So, teacher it is. I don’t doubt it’ll be a huge test for myself as a person, for my marriage, etc. Everyone keeps telling me to expect to be terrible my first year but I don’t think that’s the kind of bar the kids would want me to aim for. I’m expecting to be at least “occasionally brilliant” as the guidebook says (yes, really)…

A lot of hardcore activists feel being a social worker or teacher, etc., is the kind of job that quickly burns out people of conscience, and is a waste of time compared to what they “should” be doing. But I think that’s because they’re too concerned with the “giant solution” to value the smaller, tangible differences people like that can make. And I think as long as I try to have a reasonable sense of what can be accomplished, it won’t burn me out. I’m sure if those activists read this, they’d say I was selling out or settling for measurable things over things that can “really” change the world. But I’d rather have measurable successes than measurable failures that lets down everyone who believes in me.