Happy New Year!

Gotta love the NY public school system! Only in a place like NYC can you expect to have both days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur off from school. It's a nice little midweek breather and a chance to reflect on myself as a whole, not just as a teacher.

It's hard to believe it's been almost a month already. During this new year I've found that I have much more energy left over at the end of each day. This extra energy (extra relative to last year) I find myself putting back into the classroom any way I can.

It's a funny paradox of teaching that I see even with the 20 year veterans. The longer you teach the smoother the classroom runs, giving you more energy. But the more energy you have the more you have to invest in teaching. So even the most experienced teachers of my school end up leaving school around 5, just as exhausted as the newbies.

Of my many new year's resolutions I'll try to post here more often and find some interesting stories to share, now that the year of horror stories is over.

A Hero for My Kids and Me to Share

Nancy Hicks Maynard was the first black woman to report for the NY Times, owner and publisher of The Oakland Tribune for 10 years and co-founder of The Maynard Institute for Journalism Education which trained hundreds of minority journalists. Hicks Maynard passed away on Sunday in Los Angeles and leaves a legacy of both powerful words and actions.

When I Grow Up...

One of my favorite students (I know, I know, I shouldn't have any favorites), is a young boy I'll call Verbal, because he's incredibly bright, but sometimes impossible to understand. We were walking through the hall, just me, him and another student, and talking about what they wanted to be when they grow up. It's one of my favorite conversations when I'm getting to know a student. It can be an opening, a doorway to inspiration and a chance to show the practical value of learning and education. I got a real kick out of the possible career paths Verbal listed: baseball player, football player, astronaut...and teacher.

One of the changes I've made this year is treating these kids more, well, like kids. I made the mistake last year of assuming their backgrounds or attitudes had hardened them or robbed them of their innocence or naivete. Maybe it has in certain cases to certain degrees. But more often than not, if you treat these students like any other 8, 9 or 10 year-old, they'll respond just as you'd expect. When they do it can be surprising, funny or sometimes even inspiring.

The Good Old Days

Today had a couple of challenges that reminded me of last year. That is, I felt frustrated, exhausted and angry.

"Maverick", my problem child, is generally a good student. His academic skills are very solid, and most of the time he makes and effort. But if he loses focus, he acts out in the worst way. It's often worst at the end of the day, when I'm doing my best to squeeze in one half-decent social studies or science lesson (because of pressures of curriculum and testing this is the only time I have for specific content). Today he was tossing raisins from an earlier math lesson around the room, all the while claiming innocence.

Meanwhile, a needy student of mine from West Africa who I'll dub once a decent nickname comes to mine, totally shut down when I confronted her about wasting time on a reading assessment. She's a sweet girl, but requires a lot of attention and doesn't do well with any sort of strict or harsh discipline. She left her seat and stood by the door silently for a bit and then without saying a word left the room. She curled up in a ball in the hallway and then moved into the stairwell. I coaxed her back into the classroom, but not without totally derailing my lesson on New York's geography.

I know that I can use what I learned last year to solve the problems these students present (and doubtless new ones from the 23 other students). Still, today was a reminder that no year will be perfect or free of challenges. Luckily, just like last year, tomorrow's a new day and a fresh chance to do better.

Sheltered

Coming from a predominantly white suburban Norcal city, I had a pretty sheltered upbringing. My parents sought to mitigate this through education and exposure to culture. When I was old enough, I built on this and tried to see beyond the limitations of my worldview by volunteering and traveling. Still, none of this could truly teach me about life and culture in the Bronx.

One of the obvious (and sometimes humorous) examples is the names of students. Names like Tayeisha and Wilmary were completely foreign to me a year ago (I have plenty of interesting names in this year's class too). Of course, I sometimes forget that the cultural ignorance goes both ways.

The other day I had students write their own number stories (in olden times we called them word problems!). Many of them used Anglo names that are common to number stories, but uncommon to my school: Bob, Jess, Jane, Jill, etc. I couldn't help but laugh a bit to myself when one student referred to Jill as a he.

It's a funny anecdote, but tells a broader story as well, of two (or more) segments of American society, completely segregated from each other and therefore oblivious to one another.

Donorschoose.org

I've submitted this proposal on donorschoose.org. Time for Kids is a great resource for literacy and social studies and I know my class could get a lot out of a subscription. Read all about it here, donate if you can, and either way pass it along to your friends.

The End of Catharsis

The change in tone of this blog is probably already noticeable. I'm hoping it's a permanent transformation. Last year I needed this blog as an outlet. The frustration and sense of failure I felt daily was too much to contain and I let it spill onto this "pages" of this site. Now I'm hoping to transfer stories of success and excitement.

It's not that things haven't been challenging. I certainly anticipate them to get much more difficult as the year progresses and the "honeymoon phase" officially ends. But, I don't need the blog to be about that anymore. Hopefully it will continue to serve as an accurate representation of working in a "high need" school. But I hope it also will be a tad less depressing.

I've spent the past two weeks reveling in the new found experience of, well, experience. That's not the only improvement from last year however. Having assessed my students informally and looked over their work from the past two weeks and the end of 3rd grade I'm amazed by their abilities. It's either a testament to last year's 3rd grade teachers at my school or sadly a sign of the low-performing kids who were scrapped together last year to make my class.

This year more than half of my students are reading at grade level, and all but a few are at least reading at a 3rd grade level. Last year the skills of my students were practically an inverse. I don't begrudge the experience I had last year one iota. Challenging students - academically and behaviorally - made me a much better teacher. Furthermore, I take full responsibility for the failures of last year. Still, it's nice to now I'm starting this year in a very different place. Hopefully with the lessons I've learned, I can take these kids who are already doing well (relatively) and take them to the next level.

School Supplies

In a "high need" area, it's easy to blame the parents of our students. Sometimes it's hard not to. Often times students come into class weighed down by so much baggage from home it's just infuriating. A student will miss breakfast, or several days of class or come in looking run down and/or dirty. The impulse is generalize and say, "If these parents just did their job, maybe mine would be a bit easier!"

Today I was cleaning up my classroom. A large pile of bags carrying school supplies had accumulated near my desk. As I transferred and organized tissues, hand sanitizer, yellow note pads, markers and crayons, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I'm set for the year in terms of almost every classroom need, and it's because of my students' parents.

The school supplies list we sent out this year was lengthy. It included essentials like seven composition notebooks, seven two-pocket folders, pencils and loose leaf paper. But it also included supplies that in an ideal world should come from the teacher - art supplies, page protectors, tissues, etc. It's a lot to ask from these families, but I didn't hear one complaint or argument. My classroom was overwhelmed by supplies, because most of these parents will do anything to help their kids learn. They've done their part, the rest is on me.

Allow Me to Reintroduce Myself...

Just in case this blog has found some new readers or some returning readers need a refresher, I thought I'd give a quick synopsis of who I am and where I teach.

Who I am is tricky... obviously I want to retain a bit of anonymity if that's at all possible in this day and age, but more so, how do I define myself? I'm a 23-year-old white male. In some ways these are my most defining characteristics, but at the same time I constantly strive to break out of the mold they create for me. I'm originally from California, which is more important to know in a place like New York City than say, California. Otherwise I would describe myself as someone who sees the world through a pretty realistic lens, but has a fairly idealistic sense of one person's ability to bring about change.

As for where I teach... that should be obvious enough - the Bronx. More specifically I teach 4th grade in a Title I public elementary school in the Morris Heights neighborhood of the Bronx. Of the 1,000-plus students at my school, 99% qualify for free lunch. My students are mostly Hispanic (Carribean, Mexican, Central American...) and Black and mostly below their grade level in reading in math.

It's not an easy job, and I won't pretend I've always loved it. If you were to go back and reread my earlier entries on this blog the overarching sense would probably be despair more than passion or commitment. However even during my arduous first year, when asked how my job was, I would still answer I liked it. Nowadays, with a chance to apply lessons from my (many, many) mistakes, a fresh classroom of students, and a firm passion for my job, I tell people who ask that my job is great.

That's perhaps the greatest sign of a year's transformation. I used to almost relish the pity of my friends and family. Now, I consider myself truly lucky to have this job. I didn't know a lot about what I was getting into, but I knew it would be challenging and it would never be boring. That's why it's one of the greatest jobs I could have.

This Year Will Be Different

It's hard to believe my first week's already gone by. I knew this year would be different, but it still amazes me.

My AP came into the classroom this morning. For the second day in a row we had 100% attendance. All but 4 were in uniform. The kids were sitting straight up, quietly and attentive. That's when it happens. "Wow, you guys look great. Really, right now I think you guys are my top class."

I'm not sure what my AP's "top class" designation means, but I do know he was looking at my class and thinking about last year at the same time. I'm constantly doing the same. And the juxtaposition in my classroom is startling.

In a week the work the students have done, the assessments I've made, the environment we've created - all in sweltering heat - it probably would have taken months a year ago. I don't know how seriously I should take my AP's compliment, but I felt incredibly proud. I couldn't believe how great my class looked and how far we'd all come.

True Colors

It won't be long before the students start to come out of their shells. It will be sooner for some than others. Today the thaw was already visible. It was literally scorching in the classroom, but beyond that as the students become more comfortable with one another and me they start to act out a bit more.

Even as I felt my first bouts of frustration, I am more than happy that the students are starting to reveal their true personalities on. I'd much rather them feel comfortable with their teacher and classmates than on edge and nervous. It's my job to guide this process and harness their energy, so that comfort yields great discussion and creativity, not chaos and conflict.

As a side note it's funny how often I'm asked by colleagues: How's your group this year? Better than last year? Firstly, it's way to early to really assess a class dynamic (except in the case of the real bold personalities). More importantly, I really believe it's the teacher who shapes the students and their behaviors. It's nice to think that I had a tough group of kids, especially when I'm being complimented on how I "put up with them." But I'm surprised how few of my co-workers really held me accountable for the craziness that went on this year.

Regardless of which philosophy is right, I know that this year will be a completely different story. I can already see challenges in some of the students - some behavioral, mostly academic - but I mostly look forward to a bright and exciting year. This may be a year when I really make a difference.

Wow

Time flies, eh? Two months of vacation came and went and now two days of teach are behind me. It all feels so easy this time around. But I must be careful. It's easy to be lulled into a false sense of security during these first days of school, the so-called honeymoon period. And yet, it's undeniable. I have come a long way and I feel assured I will not ever have to experience a year like my first year of teaching.

It will be different this time around. It's more than a fact. It's a mantra. I am drilling my rules, routines and procedures into my students. I am more attentive, aware and strict than I could ever be in those first weeks (and months) a year ago. I didn't know how.

Which isn't to say there won't be plenty of mistakes this go around either. That is one reality that sustains a sense of dread in my feelings on classroom management. Am I still too much of a "nice guy"? Do I feel stricter than I am? In two weeks will some sort of behavioral time bomb go off, leaving me to pick up the pieces once again?

In these early days all my students are practically perfect. Except one. Maybe I've been watching too much election coverage, but the only nickname that comes to mind is Maverick, for his willingness to push the limits when everyone else is still perfectly docile. So the question is, how does one deal with Maverick in these early days? The conventional wisdom is crack down early and crack down hard. Do not give him an inch or he will take a mile.

While I respect this thinking, I'm trying to find a way to implement this strategy in the least confrontational way possible. I tend to think these kids represent a sort of catch-22. They want to constantly push the boundaries, but if I confront them in the wrong way I think I risk setting the dynamic between us in stone. Especially in these early days I want him to think that this year can be different. He doesn't have to be "that kid" this time around. Is this naive? If I give him the space now will he run wild soon enough?

As it is I've made my expectations clear to the whole class, Maverick included. I'm repeating the rules, expectations, consequences and rewards constantly and I'm hoping that he can find a way to self-regulate. At the end of today I asked the students to reflect on their behavior and effort in terms of a behavior rubric we created in the morning. Maverick rated himself a 2 (out of 4) in behavior. Is this honesty a sign of promise? Or a sign he knows he's a "problem child", but doesn't care? Time will tell. In any case this time around I'll have a year's experience to draw upon when facing him, and the countless other challenges that await me. That's more of a comfort than I can describe.