The End

I'm in too much shock to really write a giant final reflection on this year. I just can't believe that tomorrow is actually the last day of school. Since the beginning it's been the cliched light at the end of the tunnel. Over the past couple of months, as much as I looked forward to it, I also wished for more time with my students. As I figured things out I wished I had more time to "do things right". And after looking forward to next year as a chance to do the grade right, it's looking like I won't get that chance. But there's no use dwelling on that either. I made it. That's the focus for now. Time to celebrate and than regroup...

Introducing...Part 3

It's been a while since I've taken the time to introduce some of the characters from my classroom. I guess the truth is I've introduced the most "interesting" of my students. I've introduced the students who amuse, infuriate and sadden me. You know them as Chandrella, Gary Coleman Jr., Lil Space Case, Lil Miss Stay Puff, Pop N Fresh, The Woman-Child, Bambi, Booger Boy, The New Kid and The New New Kid. Before the school year ends I'll try to introduce you to the other 17 characters in my class.

Verbal: I've discussed this little girl a few times already without the nickname. She scored the 2 which I initially heard was a 3 on the ELA score. This blew my mind because I can hardly understand her half the time when she's talking (hence the nickname), she's reading at a 1st grade level and her writing is a step above gibberish. It shows hardly any letter to sound recognition and it's literally a struggle for me to understand what she's trying to write. That said, she's a very sweet and tragic girl. She misses at least one day of school each week. She's always exhausted from helping be a mother to her four younger siblings. During the ELA test she passed she apparently fell asleep no fewer than three times. She also has a very tough side to her. She's a little girl, but she has threatened to beat up girls twice her size. And as much as I try to teach her to solve things peacefully, I hope she will keep that fighting spirit and put it to good use in other ways.

Alvin: I've nicknamed this boy Alvin because quite simply, he looks like a chipmunk. He's a small boy who I've mentioned a few times. He's the boy who I watched fail miserably on both exams. I've since tried to get him referred for evaluation for special ed but wasn't able to get it done by the end of the school year. He's an incredibly nice boy who really just wants to be liked by his teacher and classmates. I regret the times I let him get bullied and I regret not helping him more when it was clear for so long that he was struggling. I'm hoping I can speak to his 5th grade teacher (yes, despite failing both tests he will be moving on!) and get him the help he needs.

The Gentle Giant: The Gentle Giant was one of the rocks of my classroom. Throughout all the chaos and insanity he never lost focus or faith in me. He didn't seem to get the memo that all the other students did that their teacher was clueless. I call him The Gentle Giant because he has been picked on and harassed by a few other students, but even though he's the biggest kid in the class he never resorted to violence. For most of the kids in my school fighting is the first, second and third resort, but somehow The Gentle Giant has the self-control and sense to avoid that and came to me whenever he was having issues with someone in the class.

The Twins: I think these girls are a staple of any classroom. They're best friends. Inseparable. One day the Boy Scouts had planned a field trip. One of the girls had a permission slip and the other did not. The girl who was not going on the trip burst into tears, because her friend was leaving her (for 4 hours!). So her friend decided not to go on the trip, even after she found out she would not get her money back. I chided her a bit, explaining that her mom was going to be upset about the money and she was missing out on a lot of fun. But I couldn't argue with her explanation, "Mr. B, would you rather have a friend or a trip?"

I'm just 3 days away from the Promised Land. I feel a mixture of euphoria and sadness. I've come a long ways and still feel a sense of doubt as to what impact I've had on these kids. At least from a selfish perspective I can be sure they've left an indelible one on me.

Time to Breathe

I'm starting to realize it's time to stop fighting. I've spent the year fighting nonstop. Fighting against my own frustration and desire to quit, fighting misbehavior from students, fighting a system that doesn't seem to make sense a lot of the time. As soon as June rolled around people were telling me to stop worrying so much. Now that I'm a week away from summer I have to finally agree. Maybe it's time to finally give myself a break.

So, that's what I'm gonna do. Take a deep breath. Take it one day at a time like I have all year, but remember that I'm almost done, so there's not really much else I can do. Woman-child isn't likely to change her ways. My lowest performing students won't be at grade level in a week's time, and all my other students are just as anxious to be done as I am. So why fight it? Let the games (art, and movies) begin.

Some Bad News

I have to apologize to anyone who's been reading my blog since the beginning. Those were frustrating and sometimes hopeless days. And back then one of my only consolations was looking forward to this time of year and anticipating how good it would feel. I'm sorry to say that feeling hasn't materialized just yet.

It's true. I only have 7 days of school left. And the idea of summer's freedom blows my mind. But approaching the end of this year of many peaks and valleys I've unexpectedly found myself in another hole.

It's not the kids. I don't know if they're capable any longer of doing anything to truly make me feel defeated. Although they have tested my patience to its limits the past couple of days. Instead it's my school's environment and my own self-reflection that's bringing me down.

On the first matter I recently found out that I've been assigned to kindergarten next year. I wish I was a positive enough person to be excited by this new challenge and jump to face it head on. Instead it feels like a demotion. Or perhaps a subtle way of pushing me out the door. Even if it's neither of these things (I think I've become a bit paranoid lately) it still doesn't seem like a way to build on everything I've learned this year.

Instead of growing more comfortable using the lessons I've learned this year, I'll be in a completely new environment. In educational psychology there's a concept describing the ideal balance between new and old knowledge called the zone of proximal development. Simply put, I think I'll be way outside this zone.

Beyond the challenges of my school I've felt a heavy sense of guilt, regret and sadness. 'Why did I choose to do this in the first place?' I've been wondering. Last year I explained to friends and family I was excited for the chance to grow and gain life experience. If that's the case than has this all been a selfish exercise? 'No it hasn't,' I reassure myself, because deep down I love my students and would do anything to help them grow and succeed.

But it's that same love that's killing me now. Because the test scores have come back. And wanting them to succeed wasn't enough. And while the ELA scores were a mixed bag of improvement and decline, the math scores were a failure. 14 students scored at least 1 level below last year's score. I don't know how I could have let my students down more. And there's plenty of explanations and rationalizations and ways to make myself feel better by blaming the test or whatever, but at the end of the day the test was implemented to make me accountable and I'm not going to shirk that responsibility.

Am I proud I made it this far? Of course. Especially considering I once pondered walking out mid-day. But was I maybe missing the point? It doesn't matter if I made it if I left my students behind in the process.

The Long Strange Trip

It's really hard to believe I've gotten to this point. After 9 months and 12 days I'm within striking distance of the end... June 26th, D-day, the finish line... As you might have guessed from my absence last week I'm already starting to get distracted and caught up in the daydream of summer days spent sleeping in and lazing away.

Back at school though I'm doing my best to focus. What's funny is I'm still looking to figure out solutions to some of my chronic problems. Woman-Child for example continues to frustrate me and foil all my attempts to incorporate her into my classroom community whether it's with tough talk or tons of praise. Unfortunately most people I talk to will offer a response along the lines of, "What are you worrying about? It's almost summer." This has been the case for the past few weeks now.

It's not like I don't get giddy every time I think about 11:30 am on the 26th. But at the same time I'm trying to keep my kids focused. I keep hammering them with the idea that these final days are all preparation for 5th grade. And if I expect them to keep learning, why shouldn't I hold myself to the same standard?

It's funny, I actually messed up this plan today. I've been doing everything I can to keep the kids focused on learning. I deliberately did not put "Last Day of School" on the calendar. Then today, when trying to get the kids focused I started my lecture by saying, "We have 9 days left..." The kids didn't even realize it! "We have 9 days left!" And the class erupted with chatter and excitement. I've said from the beginning this job is a psychological warfare. I guess I hadn't realized I was succeeding at this battle. Hopefully I haven't damaged my position too badly and can keep them focused for these final 8 (8! Sweet God almighty 8!) days.

There You Go...

I'm a huge fan of The Wire, a show that's been called the best on television, and I wholeheartedly agree. The show's five seasons chronicle the Baltimore drug war primarily through the eyes of the city's police, but with diversions through the lives and work of the city's longshoremen, politicians, educators and journalists. The Wire paints a heart wrenching picture of a city beset by not just by crime, but more so by corruption, ineptitude and apathy in large forms and small. One of the recurring lines is from Detective Bunk who often says, "There you go, giving a f**k, when it ain't your turn to give a f**k."

My experiences this past year of course pale in comparison to the horrors, fictionalized and otherwise, of Baltimore's worst neighborhoods. Still, I've found that refrain echoing in my head lately. It seems as a first year teacher I'm constantly being told to pick my battles, and more often than not, to back down from the ones I've chosen.

It might be fighting to have a student who's reading at a 1st grade level held back rather than be promoted to 5th. It might mean confronting a school aide who's been working at the school 20+ years and has been imbued with some sort of carte blanche to curse at and [wo]manhandle students. Recently I was told to "let it go" when I heard a vicious and untrue rumor circulating about me.

Where's the balance? To what extent should I be saying, "I'm a newcomer to this environment. It's not my place to fight these battles until I've earned that right." Or worse still, give into the widespread apathy and say: "This is just the way things are. Nothing I can say or do is going to change them." Is it possible to maintain my sanity and integrity when I'm constantly backing down from problems that truly outrage me?

I know my first job above all is to keep my classroom in order and help my kids succeed. If picking the wrong battles means inviting hostility from my peers or administration and therefore jeopardizing my position as a teacher, then I don't want to do that. But still, The Wire's Bunk only half means it when he chides his partners about caring out of turn. Deep down he knows that if the good, hardworking people didn't give a f**k, then it's more than likely nobody would. So, maybe there's something to giving a f**k even when it's not my turn.

Happy Trails Samuel Freedman!

One of my favorite writers for the NY Times' education section is moving on. He wrote one final farewell, a collection of stories and reflections on his reporting. A couple of pieces stuck out for me.

Before teaching I was under the impression that No Child Left Behind is an unmitigated disaster. This is because the Democrats have seized it as a campaign issue and stigmatized it as yet another failed Republican policy. Even teachers described it as a nuisance at best and at worst as a threat to the very process of education. I see it as a flawed policy, with a good idea at its heart and I was happy to see Freedman defend it:

In reporting about Princeton High School in New Jersey in 2005, I saw how the law shined a necessarily harsh light on the persistent disparity between black and white pupils even in an acclaimed school.

A new superintendent took over the Princeton district with a mandate to correct the problem, one that the community admitted to only because of No Child.

The other anecdote that hit close to home was his closing:

No education column received greater reader response than one last August about an award-winning, idealistic young math teacher, Austin Lampros. He had been overruled by his principal at the High School of Arts and Technology in Manhattan when he tried to give a failing grade to a senior who missed scores of classes, didn’t even show up to take the final and claimed a dubious medical excuse.

The student got her passing grade and her diploma. The principal still has her job. The only loser was Mr. Lampros, who quit a profession he adored rather than be party to a travesty.

Testing grades are finally coming back. Students who scored a 1 on the test are supposed to be held back. Even though 2 is technically below grade level (approaching meeting the standards if you want to be exact), it is a passing grade.

Surprisingly, I find myself advocating not for a student who didn't pass like I expected, but arguing for a student to be held back. I discussed this student earlier. She scored a 2 (not a 3 like I originally heard), but reads at a 1st grade level. To promote her would be a disservice to her, her future 5th grade teacher and, pardon the melodrama, the very idea of education. And yet it's made pretty clear to me that she will be promoted because to hold her back will be a blemish on the school's record.

I highly doubt I would quit upon losing this battle, but I also doubt I'll be able to shake an uneasy feeling that I will have failed this child.

Samuel Freedman is a great writer. He's been an inspiration and a great advocate and observer of the ongoing education debate in New York City and the U.S. I'll be keeping an eye out to see where his byline pops up next.

Now THAT'S Sick

Yesterday my students and I went on a field trip to the Museum of Natural History. It was a fun, mostly unremarkable trip, but I did want to share this anecdote. The ride to museum was pretty bumpy. Several students complained of car sickness and a couple said they were going to throw up. Sure enough, one of my girls ended up vomiting. It was a bright orange. Shocked by the color, once she was calm and feeling better I asked what she had eaten for breakfast. Doritos and orange soda she explained. I suggested she should be eating that kind of junk food so early, because it would make her sick no matter where she was. The always verbose and sometimes entertaining Pop N Fresh chimed in.

"You know what will make you sick Mr. B?"
"What's that?"
"Shrimp, ice cream and chocolate milk."

I couldn't argue with that, and I had to wonder if the chubby young boy knows from experience or was just making an educated guess.

$1.2 Million

That's the amount of money being cut from my school's budget in the coming year. What does $1.2 million mean to my school? It means after-school programs. It means classroom materials from textbooks to test prep workbooks. It means ESL specialists. Are these things essential? Perhaps not. The definition of essential definitely changes at a high-need school when it loses more than a million dollars in funding.

When I set up my classroom in the fall I wasn't given poster paper, borders, loose leaf paper or many other materials I would have called essential (especially when I realized some of my co-fellows' schools were doling out materials like free t-shirts at at an arena football game). Throughout the school year teachers were also responsible for bringing paper if we wanted copies made. This too I would consider somewhat essential. I can only imagine how life around the school will change when we're scraping by on an even tighter budget.

"I'm Great"

When you're teaching and you can actually tell the kids are learning it produces such a high. Another high I get is when the kids teach me something instead. Recently I learned a small, but powerful gesture from a student at my school.

"A" was a student of mine for just a few days. He was placed in my class in October. When I realized he didn't have a great grasp of English I asked around. It turned out he was supposed to be in the 5th grade bilingual class. 5th grade bilingual is in room 413 and I'm in 313, so I suppose it's an easy mistake.

A still says hi whenever we pass each other in the halls. I'll always ask him how he's doing, and he always replies the same thing. "I'm great!" Think of how often you ask someone how they're doing. What's the usual response? Fine. Okay. At best, good. Something about hearing "great" is a pleasant surprise. And I noticed it picked up my mood a bit.

So, lately I've been trying it out. When someone asks me how I'm doing, I'll say, "I'm great." Maybe it's not always true. But sometimes just saying it helps improve my mood. And I can only hope it improves the mood of whoever is asking, the way A has cheered me up from time to time.