Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Sometimes we laugh, too

Part of what makes this job so hard for me is the unrelenting feeling that I have to be someone I'm not...I have to "play the part" of the teacher. There's a process, of course, of finding your "teacher voice", a persona that functions as an authority figure but also allows you to be you. It's a tricky balance to strike.

Despite the balancing act, however, there are moments in this job where you have to drop the act and just laugh. Because let's face it, kids are pretty funny. Here are a few of the moments/quotes I can remember off the top of my head that made me just sort of drop everything and laugh out loud...

After school one day, sitting on the bench at dismissal:
R: "Ms. Bagdonas, can I get your number?"
Ms. B: Um, your mom has my number, R. Why do you need it?
R: So I can call you, on the weekend, you know, just to check up on you. See how you're doin'...

Heading at the top of a student's paper, only noticed after it was turned in:
Name: P.
Date: I love Danae.

Same student as above, talking to my sister about his crush:
Naomi: "P. why are you so distracted?"
P: "It's Danae. I just can't stop thinking about her. I think about her all the time. I think about her when I'm reading, I think about her when I'm doing my math...I even think about her when I'm brushing my teeth."

In the morning, before school:
R: "Ms. Bagdonas, I'm gonna get you somethin' nice."
Ms. B: "Oh, yeah, R.?"
R: "Yeah...whatchoolike? (one word) Caaandy? Flooowers? Anything you want."

Some of my favorite nonsensical insults:
"Big-headed"
"Bald-headed" (heads are apparently an area of sensitivity)
"You moded!" (as in, "demoted")

Brainstorming "put-ups" (positive words) we can use with each other:
"We can do it" (ok)
"Good job" (typical)
"I like your afro" (awesome)
"C'mon girl, get over here and give me a hug" (haha)

At the end of a long week, with one of my more challenging students:
I: "Ms. B. can I tell you a secret?"
Ms. B: "Sure, I."
I: "I think about you when it's no school."

At the end of a math lesson:
Ms. B: "Ok guys, that's the last problem we'll do for today."
T, talking to herself: "Yes, DONE! And the crowd goes wild..."

Because I told them when you learn something new you get another wrinkle in your brain:
A: "Ms. B! I can feel the new wrinkle! It's over here! (Points to an area above his right ear)

Introducing a book to a small guided reading group:
Ms. B: "Today we're going to read a book about some children who start a club together. Have you ever been part of a club?"
I: "No...but I have been on a party bus...? At night..."

Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we cry, such is life, eh? Feels nice to think about a few laughter moments too...

Monday, February 22, 2010

Clean Hands

This story represents probably the funniest thing that has happened to me at school in the last two years.

So we were on a fieldtrip to UC Berkeley and one of my students brought some hand sanitizer along since we were going on public transportation, etc. I guess her aunt wanted her hands to stay clean. I saw her pull out the sanitizer a couple of times, put some on her hands, put some on other kids' hands, fine, no big deal. But at one point, as I saw them slathering it on their hands, it occurred to me that it looked peculiarly shiny...hmm...(are you getting any ideas?)...I didn't think anything of it at the time.

Later, she was playing with the bottle while I was talking so I took it from her for a few minutes to make a point. When she asked for it back, I pulled it out of my pocket and just happened to glance at the label before handing it to her. Can you guess what it said?

Astroglide.

"Uhh...honey, this isn't hand sanitizer."
"What is it, Ms. Bagdonas?"
"...um, oil."

Apparently she'd gotten it from her aunt. I can only assume that the bottles were accidentally switched at some point and that when she brings it back home (as I told her to do), her aunt can correct the mistake with minimal humiliation. Although, basically half the bottle is gone at this point.

And the image that just keeps me doubling over again and again is the one of FIVE of my kids huddled in a circle, smearing it all over their hands...

Come on, that's funny.

Monday, January 18, 2010

I just want to be GOOD at this

At some point, the gap between posts gets so long you feel embarrassed...so for some reason you avoid sitting down to write, which of course, means the gap only grows bigger. It's actually amazing how often I encounter this very same failed logic in my own life. That pasta sauce looks like it's not so good anymore so I don't really want to eat it but WHY IN THE WORLD would I put it back in the fridge? Is it going to get younger and more appealing next week? My room is a mess so I don't feel like cleaning it, you get the idea.

But, the longer I wait the longer it's been, right? So let's cut our losses and move on.

The inspiration for this post came from a question someone asked me recently when, in a tough moment, I told them I just wasn't feeling as effective this year as I had hoped. My friend's response was, "Well, are there any other people telling you that you're doing a good job?" This comment got me thinking about the way we think about what makes a "good" teacher and the difference that good teaching really makes in the classroom.

I don't know everything, but there is one "THIS I KNOW" reflection that I've come away with so far: Excellent teachers really do make a difference, if not THE difference in the success of a group of students.

After quick consideration, my immediate response to this friend was, "It doesn't really matter what anyone else says. My job is to make sure my kids learn the material I'm responsible for teaching. If they didn't learn what I tried to teach, then no, I'm not doing a good job." Of course, there are many other things that play into whether or not students learn what you teach besides the effectiveness of your content delivery. And, underlying this whole conversation is the question of HOW you evaluate students' mastery of the material you're teaching (i.e. the standardized test debate), which is really important but also a whole different can of worms that I don't feel like opening here.

I am fortunate to work with a staff of teachers who, for the most part, are at our school for the right reasons and hold their students to high expectations. I don't care who the students are or where they came from, a committed teacher who knows how to build relationships, sets clear expectations, has mastered the content he/she is teaching, and puts in the time to plan purposefully towards what their students need to master can make almost anything possible in any classroom. This combination of skills doesn't always coincide with experience, but I do believe that for the most part, if you're a good teacher, you're a better teacher with a few years under your belt.

Malcolm Gladwell, author of those pop psychology books, "Blink", "The Tipping Point", etc. wrote an interesting piece for the New Yorker about the inevitable and frustrating X-factor that comes into play when trying to select "good" teachers. He compares predicting "good teachers" to predicting which college quarterbacks will end up as top-performers in the NFL (which, he contends, we haven't figured out how to do. Feel free to disagree if you know more about football than Malcolm and I do). Gladwell points out that many of our usual predictors of success (years of experience, degrees, etc.) don't necessarily correlate with effective teaching (based on a "value added" paradigm--read the article for a full explanation). One of the most interesting and controversial (given the current system) implications he comes up with is summarized below:

"...the profession needs to start the equivalent of Ed Deutschlander’s training camp. It needs an apprenticeship system that allows candidates to be rigorously evaluated. Kane and Staiger have calculated that, given the enormous differences between the top and the bottom of the profession, you’d probably have to try out four candidates to find one good teacher. That means tenure can’t be routinely awarded, the way it is now. Currently, the salary structure of the teaching profession is highly rigid, and that would also have to change in a world where we want to rate teachers on their actual performance. An apprentice should get apprentice wages. But if we find eighty-fifth-percentile teachers who can teach a year and a half’s material in one year, we’re going to have to pay them a lot—both because we want them to stay and because the only way to get people to try out for what will suddenly be a high-risk profession is to offer those who survive the winnowing a healthy reward.

This perspective on teacher compensation aligns in many ways to TFA alum and DC Chancellor of public schools Michelle Rhee's original approach towards reforming the DC public school system: essentially, she proposed that teachers who were willing to give up their tenure for a year to prove their effectiveness (based on students' performance on standardized tests balanced with a host of other metrics) would have the opportunity to earn enormous pay raises if they, indeed, proved to be highly effective.

The X-factor question is one that Teach For America has been working tirelessly (relentlessly, even...) to quantify through their selection model. The Atlantic recently published an article identifying some of the findings TFA has come to in refining this model over the past two decades. The qualities they came up with are the same buzzwords TFA has been pounding into our heads since we got involved: big goals, improving effectiveness, involving students and families, efficient use of classroom time, purposeful planning, and sustained intense effort towards reaching goals. Interestingly, another high area of correlation existed between effectiveness of TFA corps members and a "history of perseverance" through challenges in their own lives. In other words, if you're a gritty badass, you'll probably make a better teacher. And you wonder why there are so many comparisons between inner city urban education and the battlefield.

Although I don't necessarily agree with Gladwell's quarterback comparison, the ideas about effectiveness and compensation make a lot of sense to me. In what other profession are you guaranteed to keep your job regardless of how effective you are at it? (again, tabling the question of HOW we measure effectiveness and student performance for now, though I know they can't really afford to be ignored). It's also sort of intimidating for us new teachers who still feel like we're trying to find our stride, figuring out this incredibly complicated equation of how to be "good" at this job.

The question of teacher effectiveness and how to achieve it fascinates me. Probably because I've been trying to answer it for myself over the last year and a half. I have no grand conclusions here, but I will say that I've seen it come in all forms. Some of the most effective teachers at my school have approaches that seem very different from the one TFA endorses. And then again, some of the teachers who I've actually come to regard as the "best" at our school don't necessarily show the absolute highest test scores, but whose classrooms have an overwhelming feeling of community, where students have learned to treat each other and their teacher with respect and compassion, and where students are excited about what they're learning.

It's a statement my friends and I have uttered to each other in frustration and/or despair over the past year and a half: "I just want to be GOOD at this." And I know it's not black and white...I am better now than I was last year. I am better now than I was in September of this year. The best I can do is keep going back to the drawing board and adjusting, tweaking, observing, learning, working. Part of my frustration comes from doing something which, for me, has had such a long learning curve. Patience should probably be included in those "what makes a good teacher" lists (still working on that one too)...

Friday, November 13, 2009

The weight, the rhythm

1. The weight:
I saw the movie "Precious" tonight. First of all, it was wonderful and you should see it too. One word came to my mind at the end of this movie: heavy. If you watch the trailer it's fairly clear that this word describes the movie itself. Beyond the subject matter, however, was the sense of weight I was left with at the very end. In the closing scene, we witness an incredible monologue confession from Precious' mother, who abused and allowed her to be abused throughout her childhood. The movie closes with a scene of Precious, 17 years old, HIV positive, and on her own having left her abusive mother, walking down the street with her two children ("given" as it's put in the movie, to her by her own father). I'm left asking myself, how in the world is this girl going to make it? And yet we know she will...and that she's so far better off than she was when we met her. This, believe it or not, is one of the most hopeful scenes in the movie.

I guess my real point is that seeing the contrast between her mother's hopeless defeat and Precious' incredible strength left me feeling the intense weight of the work we (as teachers) do with our students. If the situations some of our students face (and I'm not trying to generalize...some do, some don't) at home are half as bleak as Precious', no wonder it's a battle in the classroom. Why are these cycles so hard to break? Because they are deep. But throughout the movie you see Precious' sense of self worth and empowerment develop through her ability to read, write, and express herself. Most importantly, her growth enables her to create hopes and aspirations for her future. At this point, what more effective tool are we, as a society, providing to break the cycle of poverty than an empowering education? And let me tell you, as a teacher in an inner city school, that charge is f-cking (yes, it's warranted here) heavy. And mostly, right now at least, in a good way. Suffice it to say I left feeling sobered but inspired.

2. The rhythm:
Today I remembered (or re-discovered) something I already knew. And that something has to do with the concept of rhythm and flow. In the past two or three weeks I started to feel like my kids and I had lost each other's rhythm...like we were really flowing for a while at the start of the year and all of a sudden I found myself pulling in one direction with all of them pulling in another and I just couldn't figure out why. I think ultimately, it came from my different reactions to the same situations we've been dealing with in the first few months. Only now there's an element of "Hey, it's the 56th day of school. Why am I still saying this?" Let's face it, that's annoying.

(As a side note, Mom and Dad, I cannot tell you how many times I've thought of you as I have to repeat myself for the fourteenth time. I've actually used the phrase, "don't just say OK, do it!" on a number of occasions and feel a pang of guilt each time. I think I get it now.)

So anyways, today was the first full day in those two weeks where I felt like we found our groove again. But it really didn't have anything to do with them, I sort of just decided I wasn't going to get mad today. It's so interesting...I think whether I leave feeling like I had a "good day" at work actually has less to do with what individual kids did or didn't do and more to do with how I reacted to it all day long. If I got upset and frustrated and ended up yelling, it just feels like a bad day at the end. If, on the other hand, I "managed" the situation instead of just reacting to it, I could have A. completely ignoring our math lesson, I. calling people "dumb dumb" all day, and N. kicking other kids in the shins and still walk away feeling like "hey, that wasn't so bad." At least in some situations, it's only as bad as you make it (What? That doesn't sound like fun to you?)

Sunday, November 1, 2009

October blues...

I don't know what it is...the weather getting colder, the fact that it's been 9 weeks with no substantial break, or maybe the impending holidays, but the last few weeks have been hard. I've heard that October is a tough month for many teachers (I didn't have a chance to experience the difference last year...they were all tough months). Kids are getting on each others' nerves, kids are getting on my nerves, and I'm pretty sure I'm rounding out the triangle (can I say that?) by getting on their nerves too. On top of it all, I feel like all of a sudden I'm lost in my plans, in the curriculum, and in the vision that seemed so clear at the start of the year. What happened to those routines and structures we set up? Why are they fading away now? Why is this starting to feel eerily "last year"-esque?

And what in the world do I do to turn it back around?

Here's hoping we can leave the October blues in October...

Friday, October 16, 2009

And in the end...

Today was A's last day. I didn't find out until 2:00 when his mom called to let us know she'd be picking him up and that he'd be enrolling in his new school on Monday. I know being with his mom is the best thing for him right now. Still, I feel a real sense of loss. It makes me sad to think of him starting all over in a new place with a new teacher and a new group of kids. But he seemed excited, and like I told him, all that really matters is that he learns and that he's happy.

We had started his behavior contract over once he returned--he needed to meet his goals for 5 days in a row to earn his shades. Today, once again, was his fourth day. So what can I say...I fudged it. We went upstairs after school, cleaned out his desk, and I presented him with his prize: a pair of rainbow shutter shades, which he proudly wore out the door.

The interesting thing about this whole experience is the realization that I could probably feel just as close and connected to any given student in my class, were I afforded the opportunity to get to know them and invest in their progress the way I did with A. I wish we had the capacity, as teachers, to invest so deeply in more of our students. They deserve it. So, onward and upward...

Monday, October 12, 2009

Speaking of titles

Quick post, I just wanted to share the titles of one of my students' recent writing pieces:

1. "We Can't Find Our Friend"
2. "I Want to be Safe"
3. "But I Love You"
4. "We All Fall Down"

Talk about evocative titles! I mean, these sound like song lyrics don't they? Seven year old minds can be so fascinating...