Ready or not here it comes

Oh dear, looks like I forgot to post for oh…a few months… so much has changed and yet many things have stayed the same.  Everyday is a struggle to educate.  Every day is a win or two with about a dozen losses, but boy do those wins feel good.  I’d be lying if I told anyone I was any good at my job because frankly, I’m not.  This year I’ve learned more about myself and how to teach than the kids have been able to learn themselves, which is sad, but at least someone is learning in the classroom everyday.  There is so much I would change, yet I feel so grateful for having learned from the mistakes I have made.  These children, in all their confused teenageness have made me a better teacher and a better person.

It’s funny that as I type each word I am reminded of how much I have changed in such a short time.  My previous posts were articulate, very matter of fact, and had substance.  As I write this evening, I can feel my writing spiraling like an emotional teenager having so much to say, but not having a way to say anything comprehensible.  My grammar has suffered, my vernacular mirrors a thirteen year old, and I know that no matter how much I write tonight, I have not been able to say what is really going on in my thoughts this year.

With that in mind, I’m going to take a line from my students and say “I’m just going to tell it like it is”.

I love these children with my whole heart and soul.  As the third quarter comes to a close and my students took their final exams today I couldn’t help but look over at their concentrated and flustered faces with frustration that I hadn’t done just a little bit better.  Every time a student comes in angry or upset, I have put so much pressure on them to stay committed, and while they think I’m doing it because I hate them, it is because all I want in the world for that child to see is that they can still succeed even when the rest of the day has been a complete failure.  I want them to see that I continuously hound them because I care, not because I’m upset….But how do you say all this to a child who has more or less only seen failure academically and has a teacher who has to put on the “teacher face” every single day or risk being considered soft?

At the end of the day, I hope these students leave this year with a sense of achievement.  Surviving me is no easy task, yet I think all of them will make it through the year, and some may even leave with some tidbits of knowledge.  I hope I have prepared them, more than just for the test in 4 weeks.  I hope they are ready for high school, and I hope they have gained a little bit of maturity and a little bit of hope over the last 3 quarters.

Time will tell, EOC, ready or not, here my students come…

Please thank your teachers…

Holy moly.  I apologize to anyone who was hoping for an update recently.  The first days of school have come and gone, and being a teacher has slugged me in the gut followed by a cheap shot to the nose.  This is no job for the weak of spirit, the faint of heart, nor one who enjoys a handsome paycheck.  I am up at 6AM, to bed by 10PM and usually working every hour in between.  While, I know the work that previous teachers have put in at this school district, I’m still dismayed and often shocked at what these young children can and can’t do.   I was amazed to find that my students could all repeat the order of operations, locate quadrants 1 – 4 on a coordinate plane, identify the x and y axis, yet cannot calculate that 3/1 is also 3, cannot reduce 2/4 to 1/2  nor multiply two digit by one digit numbers.  Basic things that I have assumed about these children have been thrown out the window regarding their scholastic as well as their emotional aptitude.  I remember reading in college that men like Machiavelli were monsters and that nobody should respect a man who rules through fear, yet I am coming to realize that culturally, in this part of the country, often fear and respect run hand in hand.   “Caring”, as I was often taught was a word that was usually synonymously used with the word “kindness”.  Here, caring means you assert discipline and structure and students respect that type of structure.  This has been a rude awakening for me, but has quickly brought out a new side of me that I had not yet previously seen before, and a side I am happy to have the opportunity to develop.  I am beginning to think the best words for it are assertiveness, and an attitude that actually means a little bit of business.

Which brings me to my next little rant, that is much more positive.  Email your teachers this week.  They could have been your favorite, the one that seemed to slave to make class interesting even when it usually wasn’t, or the teacher that just made you feel ok to be young and confused.  Email that teacher and say thank you.  They worked more hours and put in more blood sweat and tears than you can ever imagine.  These educators were never here for the money, the fame, or the great reputation their profession receives (sorry, I should have said lack thereof).  Your teacher stood there everyday for 7 hours to make you a functional member of society, and a better person for the hour or so he or she had with you everyday.  Some were great, some just plain stunk, but all of them cared.  So email a handful, the ones that really mattered, because they worked their butt off for you, and you probably complained about them for the vast majority of your year with them.  I know I did, and I was one of the good students!

And as I educate, confuse, frustrate, and fluster my students, I remember that they often do the same to me as we discovery each others intricacies, bizarre quirks, and sometimes just plain odd social lives.  The generational and lifestyle gap is quickly becoming apparent, but I still can’t help but be in awe of these students, the poorest of the poor, in the most misunderstood part of the country, in the most misunderstood age in a person’s lifetime, and yet there they are everyday, listening, talking, learning, and occasionally sleeping, trying to achieve something, anything, of substance. I hope they do, and I hope I do too.

So Long Houston, Hello Mississippi Delta!

Wow, this has been one of the most intense, thankless, yet blessful periods of my life.  Never before have I so intensly dedicated myself to a single effort.  But you know what?  Every last minute of it was worth it.  I started the year with 10 incredibly bright and talented 7th grade math students.  All had in some way shape or form managed to fail to move on to the 8th grade, many for the second, third, or fourth time.  What started off as an immense challenge for me culminated in a moment that was nothing short of awe inspiring.  In just 4 weeks my students improved their 7th grade scores an average of 130%.   Even better, all of them passed their state Math Exam and moved on to the 8th grade.

But more than anything, I learned from them.  I learned that no matter how much anybody has failed, struggled, and lost in life, they can still come back and achieve, and achieve high expectations.  I never let up on my girls when their heads hurt, or their parole officer had to talk to them last night, or when their babies kept them up late.  My expectation was that everyday they would come in, do their assigned duties, and listen for 90 minutes.  And while some days were like pulling teeth, everyday they listened, everyday they passed my quizzes, and everyday I saw progress.

On Wednesday, the day before they finished school, they took their last lesson.  It was an Algebra lesson that I had sat and slaved over, and was a lesson that I was never told to teach.  Only 4 weeks ago I had talked to one of their previous math teachers. “These kids won’t be able to do -9 + 7″ she told me.  I can’t tell you the joy that welled up in their eyes and in mine when they learned not only that their old teacher was wrong, but that they could solve for and define what the term variable meant and balance an equation adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing by a negative or positive integer.  I can’t tell you what it looks like for a young adult to realize that they have a shot at passing Algebra (The main subject that students drop out of high school over).  But let me tell you, I saw it.  I saw all of their eyes light up when they got it, when they suddenly didn’t feel like they were behind anymore, when suddenly they felt ready for 8th grade, for high school, and maybe, just maybe college.

So, yesterday, for their last day I decided I’d drop in on them in their final period right as they were realizing that they had all passed on to 8th grade.

“Mister! I did it!” they each yelled jumping up and down with a vigor that I never thought I would see from these girls.  I went outside and cried after that sight, not for what I had done, but for how proud these girls were to succeed when many a time I thought they didn’t care.

So as I look out on my final sunset in Houston Texas and as I rode away from Sharpstown Middle School earlier this afternoon, I’m reminded again the importance of this movement.  This movement is not about me, it is not about Teach For America, it is about these kids.  All of them deserve a shot, and more than anything else, with enough persistence and enough positive reinforcement, all of these kids can learn that they can achieve.

Thank you to everyone at Sharpstown Middle School, and to all of my students in room 102A.  I promise I learned a lot more from you, than you ever could have hoped to learn from me.

The End of the Beginning

So it appears, after 4 weeks of “practice” (I hate that term) with inner city students in Houston, that I am officially ready to receive my teaching certification.  I have got to say that these last 4 weeks have been some of the most eye opening of my life.  This is not “Freedom Writers”, or “Dangerous Minds”.  This is real life for these kids.  Gangs, pregnancy at 11 and 12 years old, 1 or sometimes 0 parents for these kids, free lunch programs, all of it is very apart of the lives of these young adults, yet up until now I have managed to turn a blind eye to the meaning and consequences behind all of this.  Sure, I have brought up these kids scores from 15% 3 weeks ago on the first test I gave them, to an 86% average, however the fact remains in 1 week I’m out, and a new teacher is in. 

These kids will not dissappear after I am gone on Thursday, and neither will the problem of closing the gap in American Education, however, I’m seeing that the problems children face in America have far reaches outside of education.  There exists a cultural gap in America between what is viewed as right and what is viewed as wrong.  Gangs, pre-teen pregnancy, these are things that should have been foiled a long time ago, yet they still persist and to these children are viewed as the rule, rather than the exception.  Beyond closing this “achievement gap” in education, I hope I can begin to heal the wounds of the cultural gaps that plague these regions, because when I look out over my classroom, I don’t see gang members, or a 13 old 7th grade girl with two kids.  I see children, wanting something more, but not knowing what that something is.  These kids CAN learn, and these kids CAN succeed, if only they were given a chance to see what it is like on the other side of the tracks.

For me, these last few weeks have not been practice, but I do now see how neccessary it is for me to get in the game.  And while I do not condone fighting of any kind, I think I’m gonna have to take the gloves off for this one.

Finally, Teaching For America

So, I know this has been a long time coming, and for that I apologize for anyone that has had the audacity to continually check this unupdated blog of mine.  Well I want everyone to know that updates will come weekly, and when August approaches will start coming daily!

So what have I been up to?  Well, let’s go back a few weeks ago.  I had just landed in Texas and was getting ready to make my boarding flight to head into Jackson, Mississippi.  I grab my bags, excited to head to the capital of my new state only to find that my plane is really no more than a 20 person bus jet.  You’d think that the capital city of a state would get a little bit more respect than that, but alas I was wrong.  I shared my plane flight and unfortunately my seat (Everything is definitely bigger in Texas) with a man named Ben who constantly seemed to want my guidance on the Soduku puzzle he was working on.

As we got into the air and eventually over Mississippi my eyes really lit up.  From the sky, every single inch of Mississippi is gorgeous.  Beautiful trees, farmland, swamp, I mean basically take the whole state and paint it green.  We landed our rickety jet on the runway and I stepped out to a cheering group of Teach for America teachers eager for me to arive if only to escape the confines of our little airport.

Now, I want to be kind to the great people of Mississippi when I say this, but take everything you would think about a capital city and throw it out the window.  It is gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but I would not describe Jackson as a “sprawling cityscape”.  In fact Jackson is no larger than the small town I grew up in.

Anyway, we loaded up onto our shuttle and made the 4 hour trek to the Delta.  The farther we drove the more beautiful things got…and the further away we got from civilization.  A big city in Mississippi basically means that there is a Walmart and a gas station on the same block.

We trained for a few days, living in the local college dorms which sounds fancy until you realize that there is no internet, hot water, or well planned water drains in any part of housing.  Needless to say, showering was always a bizarre adventure, but I guess that is why our shower was also a small bathtub.

Training was exhausting, but well worth the effort.  Not long after arriving in Mississippi was it time to head to the great state of Texas where we would train in Houston in some of the cities “toughest” schools.

Which brings me to today (Sorry that took so long).  I have 8 wonderful girls that I teach Summer School to.  All of my girls failed math last year, and if they don’t pass the state exam this year they will all fail 7th grade and be forced to repeat.  We have learned many times over that failure to pass on to the next grade is as much a sign of a lack of education as it is the likely-hood of going to prison.  Needless to say my work has been hard, but incredibly rewarding.  I work everyday within a school of gang activity, fighting, cussing out teachers, and everything in between.  Yet, at the end of the day, my girls sit quietly in their chairs doing their work knowing that within the walls of my classroom they are not in a gang anymore, they are in math, and while many of them would just assume kill each other outside of the school, in my room they work in pairs to compare and order fractions, decimals, and percents.

The world I lived in in California was wonderful, but I am quickly seeing that my place is here, helping out these kids.  And when I move back to the Delta in a month, hopefully with fond memories and 8 girls who are moving on to the 8th grade, I hope that I still feel this way about the challenges that lay ahead.  And those challenges are plentiful.  A school with incredibly low state scores, more gang activity, and pockets of the town still stuck in an era of racial segregation and prejudice.  But, I don’t care.  The school looks beautiful, the kids will learn, their scores will rise, and just maybe one of them will make something of themself one day because I gave them the courage and the tools to ignore all the naysayers.  That is why I am teaching for America.

Welcome!

Welcome to Jesse in the Delta!

Over the next few weeks, months, and years I will be updating all those interested in what I am up to in the Mississippi Delta.  So welcome!  I’ll be posting updates as they come!