I went back to teaching today, but only had to teach my Sophomore Lit. class in 6th block. We finished up the end of The Road. We closed out the novel with a whimper because we had those two damn pages to finish. Coming back to the end of the novel after a whole week away kind of takes the pungency, or perhaps a better word—the viridity— out of the end of the book. However, the students seemed to enjoy the overall journey through the novel (no pun intended), and that's what counts.
The kids were fairly high-strung in class, but there were some small gems of engagement today. I didn't expect a lot from them because this was the first day back from a holiday break. There was more I could have done—wanted to do—with the novel, but honestly, I think anymore would be like beating a dead horse at this point. It's not technically the way I wanted to wrap it up, but it feels like it's the right time to break off and hand it back to my mentor teacher. She'll be picking up the class with Shakespeare's Julius Caesar and introducing them to "puns."
I spent most of today in the media center, but I went back and observed the 5th period Am. Lit. students before the 6th block class began. Those kids are just as crazy with her as they were with me. Although I will miss them in my own special way, I'm glad I don't have to deal with them any more. It was nice to relax and watch her deal with the yakking, arguing, and whining and the general complacency and off-task behavior of that 5th period after-lunch-bunch.
I have two more days to hang out at "City High," and then this student teacher will be finished. I survived student teacher boot camp. Private Williams, reporting, sir. And, in the completely overused words of the Grateful Dead, "what a long, strange trip it's been."
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Optimism vs. Self-Esteem
I'm supposed to have a little coffee with a former mentor teacher, Mr. Slade, today, and I figure he'll probably ask me how the rest of my student teaching has been. I was thinking about how I might characterize the rest of my experience, when I thought about a book that I bought a long time ago called The Optimistic Child. The premise of the book is that adults need to stop giving children a false sense of self-esteem, and start giving them the tools and knowledge to be confident about the impact they can have on the world (optimism about their future, in other words). I bought this book way before I even thought about being a teacher; I bought it as a resource for raising my own kids, and I haven't looked at it in quite a while.
Anyway, I really agree with the main idea in this book. Is there a difference between optimism and self-esteem? I think there is. Optimism fosters a hopeful outlook on the world at large, and self-esteem fosters, imo, a sense of self-entitlement, which is what I think contributes to some of the biggest malfunctions in American society today. What always happens when I try to discuss these issues with the education professors at my school is that they say, "but research shows this [warm and fuzzy approach] is what works." I guess I should try to do a little studying on this matter of my own then. Today I read an interesting article by a group of professors (Lippmann, Bulanda, Wagenaar) at Miami University in the journal College Teaching (Fall 2009). The article was about how the sense of over-inflated and sometimes rude self-entitlement has thrust itself upward from elementary and secondary schools and on to college campuses. I think its interesting to note that college professors are now encountering the beast that the lower schools (and some parents) have created.
I guess I need to do more research, or no one's going to acknowledge what I'm saying might have merit.
Anyway, I really agree with the main idea in this book. Is there a difference between optimism and self-esteem? I think there is. Optimism fosters a hopeful outlook on the world at large, and self-esteem fosters, imo, a sense of self-entitlement, which is what I think contributes to some of the biggest malfunctions in American society today. What always happens when I try to discuss these issues with the education professors at my school is that they say, "but research shows this [warm and fuzzy approach] is what works." I guess I should try to do a little studying on this matter of my own then. Today I read an interesting article by a group of professors (Lippmann, Bulanda, Wagenaar) at Miami University in the journal College Teaching (Fall 2009). The article was about how the sense of over-inflated and sometimes rude self-entitlement has thrust itself upward from elementary and secondary schools and on to college campuses. I think its interesting to note that college professors are now encountering the beast that the lower schools (and some parents) have created.
I guess I need to do more research, or no one's going to acknowledge what I'm saying might have merit.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Hair Salon Musings
I took my son to get his hair cut today (which he needed badly!). I brought a book along to pass the time while I was there—Joseph Campbell's Myths to Live By. I guess I took it because having written about him yesterday, I thought I'd revisit some of his writings. The more I read about what he writes, the more I become convinced that helping students make "meaty" (substantial) connections to other ideas is the right thing to do to help them "think." I tried to do the connection thing with the novel, The Road, that I taught in the Sophomore literature class. In fact, I think I most definitely tried to do it in all the classes I taught, including the other two American Lit. classes with the Juniors.Thursday, November 26, 2009
On Being Thankful
Not only did I go see The Road this week, but I also went to see The Blind Side (Sandra Bullock, Tim McGraw) on this past Monday too. In the film, a homeless African-Am. teen, "Big Mike," is taken in by a wealthy Memphis socialite and her family. By good luck and some string-pulling, he is enrolled in a private school, and it quickly becomes clear that he is sorely behind in his grade level and ability to read. However, when the teachers read the tests to him, he can answer the questions quite well. He ultimately pulls his 0.6 GPA up to a 2.5 in about a year and a half. Copy this link to watch the trailer: http://www.theblindsidemovie.com/
His predicament made me think of a student in one of my literature classes. I'll call him Arnez to protect his identity. Arnez sits in my class day after day with his head down on his desk and no apparent interest in what's going on at all. He refuses to take his tests and quizzes, and when he was allowed sit with his friends, he was disruptive and distracted the rest of the class. I've approached him often about sleeping in class, but it makes no difference—the head goes right back down. My mentor teacher believes that he is unable to read on-level, and as such, he is not able to do the work in class. In fact, the other day he asked me if he could go outside and sit on the steps and listen to his MP3 player (we are in a "portable classroom"[read trailer]).
The only time during the semester that Arnez has shown interest in what was going on was the day we analyzed children's books for the pattern of the heroic cycle. He and his partner had Horton Hears a Who, and I suppose he was able to participate because a child's storybook was something he could handle. His previous teachers have obviously passed him along because they were worried that if he failed their class, they would be blamed for being unable to reach him. But ultimately, he has been done an incalculable disservice. Here is a kid that would probably have a hard time filling out a job application, and no one has done anything about it.
So, near the end of The Blind Side, I started to think about Arnez. Even though he has frustrated me some during my time student teaching, I have had times when I really felt bad for him. After watching the movie, I felt this strong compulsion to ask my mentor teacher if I could work with Arnez to do this project on The Road, or even whether I might be allowed to work with him one-on-one in some capacity after my student teaching is over. I may not be allowed to do that, and it's possible Arnez might not even want my help, but I feel as though I need to at least ask.
His predicament made me think of a student in one of my literature classes. I'll call him Arnez to protect his identity. Arnez sits in my class day after day with his head down on his desk and no apparent interest in what's going on at all. He refuses to take his tests and quizzes, and when he was allowed sit with his friends, he was disruptive and distracted the rest of the class. I've approached him often about sleeping in class, but it makes no difference—the head goes right back down. My mentor teacher believes that he is unable to read on-level, and as such, he is not able to do the work in class. In fact, the other day he asked me if he could go outside and sit on the steps and listen to his MP3 player (we are in a "portable classroom"[read trailer]).
The only time during the semester that Arnez has shown interest in what was going on was the day we analyzed children's books for the pattern of the heroic cycle. He and his partner had Horton Hears a Who, and I suppose he was able to participate because a child's storybook was something he could handle. His previous teachers have obviously passed him along because they were worried that if he failed their class, they would be blamed for being unable to reach him. But ultimately, he has been done an incalculable disservice. Here is a kid that would probably have a hard time filling out a job application, and no one has done anything about it.
So, near the end of The Blind Side, I started to think about Arnez. Even though he has frustrated me some during my time student teaching, I have had times when I really felt bad for him. After watching the movie, I felt this strong compulsion to ask my mentor teacher if I could work with Arnez to do this project on The Road, or even whether I might be allowed to work with him one-on-one in some capacity after my student teaching is over. I may not be allowed to do that, and it's possible Arnez might not even want my help, but I feel as though I need to at least ask.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Cormac McCarthy's The Road in the Classroom
I went to see The Road (Viggo Mortensen, Kodi Schmidt-McFee, dir. John Hillcoat) today with my son and daughter. It is only playing at ONE theatre in Atlanta, so we had to drive to Midtown to see it. It was, as I expected, not nearly as touching and intense as the book, but I am glad the filmmakers didn't butcher it either. Even more so the case, because I chose to teach The Road this semester during my student teaching, and the students were anxious to see the movie when it came out.
My mentor teacher kindly allowed me to teach Cormac McCarthy's heartbreaking, award-winning, post-apocalyptic novel (2006), even though she is a self-proclaimed Fundamentalist Christian. My mentor teacher refuses to read or discuss Harry Potter novels, for example, because of the "occult" element. It is even more surprising I was allowed to teach this selection because in most schools these days things like cannibalism, catamites, and murder don't really go over well as provender for classroom studies.
My mentor teacher kindly allowed me to teach Cormac McCarthy's heartbreaking, award-winning, post-apocalyptic novel (2006), even though she is a self-proclaimed Fundamentalist Christian. My mentor teacher refuses to read or discuss Harry Potter novels, for example, because of the "occult" element. It is even more surprising I was allowed to teach this selection because in most schools these days things like cannibalism, catamites, and murder don't really go over well as provender for classroom studies.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Grade Inflation and "No Child Left Behind"
This week I am off from student teaching for Thanksgiving break. I spent yesterday grading some papers. Heaven save me from the very sad state of their writing ability. I have been reading 11th graders' vocabulary essays. They are just depressing. Many of the students do not have the ability to write in subject/verb agreement, and most of them misuse nouns as verbs and visa versa. Don’t even get me started on the spelling. These kids are not stupid, they have just been allowed to get away with doing nothing for the previous 11 years of their education. Listen, I'm not faulting the students so much as I am the system that got them so dysfunctionally screwed-up in the first place.
The problem is that teachers have been trained to pass students along so that they (the teachers) won’t look bad, and that is the fault of “No Child Left Behind” (NCLB), which was instituted by the egregiously misguided George W. Bush. When NCLB was introduced, the focus was no longer about whether students perform well, it became more about how well teachers can get the students to perform. If students are not achieving, then it is the teacher’s problem. If students are not passing classes, well, that means that the teacher must be doing something wrong. By the time students get to high school these days, they have been trained that they are not responsible for their education—the teachers are.
I will admit that there have been (and still are) some pretty bad teachers out there. I’ve even had a few in my day. However, I fail to see the merit in having teachers be disproportionately responsible for motivating students. What about the parents? What about the students goals for themselves? I think that there is this attitude that has developed in the last twenty years or so that you don’t have to work hard in America to be perceived as successful. That fallacious notion starts with the message that students are given in school, and then it continues with the availability of easy credit and the ability to live beyond one’s means without taking responsibility for poorly considered decisions. That attitude is what has gotten our country in the dire economic straights we are facing today in America. Students have no idea how to make crucial decisions because they are being force-fed a bunch of horse puckey in order to pass some arbitrary standardized test, and they have no idea how to think for themselves.
In my role as a student teacher, my mentor teacher told me that I must adopt this philosophy: teachers mustn't discourage students by giving them bad grades for poor work; we must boost their egos by giving them credit for things like putting their names on the top of their paper. I feel that giving students this false sense of so-called accomplishment just reinforces the whole idea that they don’t have to work hard in order to get by. Maybe I’m too “old school.” I can’t decide if I’m being unrealistic about what students are capable of doing or not. One thing that I do know, however, is that I don’t think teachers challenge students to extend themselves. If this lackadaisical attitude continues in our schools, it will be, in my opinion, the ultimate downfall of American society. I know that sounds melodramatic, and maybe it is, but I just can’t see how a society can remain sustainable if it doesn’t continuously strive to improve itself.
The problem is that teachers have been trained to pass students along so that they (the teachers) won’t look bad, and that is the fault of “No Child Left Behind” (NCLB), which was instituted by the egregiously misguided George W. Bush. When NCLB was introduced, the focus was no longer about whether students perform well, it became more about how well teachers can get the students to perform. If students are not achieving, then it is the teacher’s problem. If students are not passing classes, well, that means that the teacher must be doing something wrong. By the time students get to high school these days, they have been trained that they are not responsible for their education—the teachers are.I will admit that there have been (and still are) some pretty bad teachers out there. I’ve even had a few in my day. However, I fail to see the merit in having teachers be disproportionately responsible for motivating students. What about the parents? What about the students goals for themselves? I think that there is this attitude that has developed in the last twenty years or so that you don’t have to work hard in America to be perceived as successful. That fallacious notion starts with the message that students are given in school, and then it continues with the availability of easy credit and the ability to live beyond one’s means without taking responsibility for poorly considered decisions. That attitude is what has gotten our country in the dire economic straights we are facing today in America. Students have no idea how to make crucial decisions because they are being force-fed a bunch of horse puckey in order to pass some arbitrary standardized test, and they have no idea how to think for themselves.
In my role as a student teacher, my mentor teacher told me that I must adopt this philosophy: teachers mustn't discourage students by giving them bad grades for poor work; we must boost their egos by giving them credit for things like putting their names on the top of their paper. I feel that giving students this false sense of so-called accomplishment just reinforces the whole idea that they don’t have to work hard in order to get by. Maybe I’m too “old school.” I can’t decide if I’m being unrealistic about what students are capable of doing or not. One thing that I do know, however, is that I don’t think teachers challenge students to extend themselves. If this lackadaisical attitude continues in our schools, it will be, in my opinion, the ultimate downfall of American society. I know that sounds melodramatic, and maybe it is, but I just can’t see how a society can remain sustainable if it doesn’t continuously strive to improve itself.
Entering the orchard
An apple for the teacher, right? Not so fast.
I’ve decided that the apples are not given to the teacher, but are given by the teacher. We are the keepers of the orchard, and our crops are the
apples—the children of the future.
As I finish my student teaching, I realize that I have many things to reflect upon. Things didn’t go great, but they didn’t go badly either. I learned a lot, failed a lot, had great, glorious, soaring moments of success, and I cried a lot. Lots of crying. More tears than I ever imagined lurked behind my eyes. I succumbed to more crying than I’ve done in the past ten years—well, at least in the last five years.
All this weeping over this last semester during my student teaching has come as a shock to me. I’m a tough cookie. I’m a single mom of two great kids, now 12- and 9-years old. In fact, I’ve been a single mom since my younger child was born. But that’s another story. I worked 15-years for a Fortune 100 corporation as a successful, well-paid, middle-level manager. I was responsible for a $20 million dollar-plus annual revenue stream, had 35 employees reporting to me, and dealt with high-level corporate clients on a daily basis. I was a ball-buster and a hard ass. Not a crier. That all changes when you are faced with 120 high school teenagers each day who don’t give a rat’s ass about literature. To compound matters, you are also faced with some teachers who don’t give a rat’s ass either.
About two years ago, I decided that I wanted to teach literature. I wanted to change the world, inspire generations of young people to think deeply about their contributions to society, and promote lofty, inspired idealism. I already had a degree in Corporate Communications and Journalism, and with my experience in human resources and corporate training, I felt I had a proven track record in curriculum design and instruction. Had I known then what I know now, I would have realized that I should have chucked everything that I thought I knew about teaching out the window.
Therefore, with this blog, I plan to chronicle the final leg of my journey in Teacher Education and my subsequent entry into the domain of public schools—one that is vastly different from the corporate world from whence I escaped. Thus far, my time transforming myself into “The Teacher” has been enlightening, frustrating, terrifying, wonderfully satisfying, and entirely exhausting.
Throughout this career-changing process, I feel as though I have been wandering, cultivating, and reaping the fruits of my labors Hopefully, I will savor the sweetness of my success as a teacher. However, there are also some poison apples dangling among the trees. Trust me, there are quite a few. So, join me now as I step into the thick of it. You can think of me as an Orchard Keeper.
I’ve decided that the apples are not given to the teacher, but are given by the teacher. We are the keepers of the orchard, and our crops are the
apples—the children of the future.
As I finish my student teaching, I realize that I have many things to reflect upon. Things didn’t go great, but they didn’t go badly either. I learned a lot, failed a lot, had great, glorious, soaring moments of success, and I cried a lot. Lots of crying. More tears than I ever imagined lurked behind my eyes. I succumbed to more crying than I’ve done in the past ten years—well, at least in the last five years.
All this weeping over this last semester during my student teaching has come as a shock to me. I’m a tough cookie. I’m a single mom of two great kids, now 12- and 9-years old. In fact, I’ve been a single mom since my younger child was born. But that’s another story. I worked 15-years for a Fortune 100 corporation as a successful, well-paid, middle-level manager. I was responsible for a $20 million dollar-plus annual revenue stream, had 35 employees reporting to me, and dealt with high-level corporate clients on a daily basis. I was a ball-buster and a hard ass. Not a crier. That all changes when you are faced with 120 high school teenagers each day who don’t give a rat’s ass about literature. To compound matters, you are also faced with some teachers who don’t give a rat’s ass either.
About two years ago, I decided that I wanted to teach literature. I wanted to change the world, inspire generations of young people to think deeply about their contributions to society, and promote lofty, inspired idealism. I already had a degree in Corporate Communications and Journalism, and with my experience in human resources and corporate training, I felt I had a proven track record in curriculum design and instruction. Had I known then what I know now, I would have realized that I should have chucked everything that I thought I knew about teaching out the window.
Therefore, with this blog, I plan to chronicle the final leg of my journey in Teacher Education and my subsequent entry into the domain of public schools—one that is vastly different from the corporate world from whence I escaped. Thus far, my time transforming myself into “The Teacher” has been enlightening, frustrating, terrifying, wonderfully satisfying, and entirely exhausting.
Throughout this career-changing process, I feel as though I have been wandering, cultivating, and reaping the fruits of my labors Hopefully, I will savor the sweetness of my success as a teacher. However, there are also some poison apples dangling among the trees. Trust me, there are quite a few. So, join me now as I step into the thick of it. You can think of me as an Orchard Keeper.
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