curryed away Curryed Away: Carrying Curry Education Away and Into the Classroom

Posts Tagged ‘classroom management’

I’ve been having a problem with social media lately. Like most individuals in my age group, I have a facebook account. And like all good Curry grads, my settings are up so high that you can’t see anything about me unless you’re my friend. My students haven’t looked for me (to my knowledge) or tried to friend me, and I intend to keep it that way. My primary use for facebook is to post interesting articles that I’ve read, and to communicate with friends and family back in the States (for which it has been invaluable). However, I always find myself pausing whenever I want to post about work on facebook (and on this blog, for that matter).

Social media is an outlet for people to celebrate, publicize, and seek help for issues in their lives. My life is teaching, so naturally I want to post about my teaching, including both the ups and downs. But with recent incidences like an Ohio math teacher getting suspended for posting a picture of her kids with duct tape on their mouths and other stories I’ve heard of teachers getting fired over facebook posts, I’m loath to even post a comment seeking advice for how to get my kids to keep quiet and focus on a lesson! And unfortunately, this has got me feeling a bit confused as to what to do, but also very alone in my profession. Because unless I tell someone about my problem face-to-face (which implies that I can find a good confidant even though I’m an ocean away from all my Curry professors and friends), then I’d better keep my public, online mouth shut (so to speak).

And so this has all got me thinking: Where is the line between “productive sharing” and sharing too much? 

What do I mean by productive sharing? In my Curry class on Contemporary Issues in Education, we read a book called Teaching 2030 that suggested that teachers could use technology to build their professional learning networks or guilds in an effort to become “teacherpreneurs”. What I imagined, then, was being able to ask my network everything from how to effectively teach conjunctions to how to get a group of energetic sixth graders to buckle down and pay attention for 50 minutes.

However, I don’t foresee that happening when any relatively negative comment I have (like the Ohio teacher’s ”Finally found a way to get them to be quiet!!!”) could be used against me on any public, online platforms. I could keep my comments all positive, like “how great it is that Johnny finally learned the difference between an adverb and an adjective” or that “I shared a heart-warming moment with my homeroom over cookies”. Unfortunately, all of that just seems so false.

The truth of the matter is that teaching is hard, and if you’re lucky, you’ll have a few heartwarming moments in your day to balance out or (if you’re lucky) erase the frustrating, mind-boggling, and tear-your-hair-out moments. It also feels so incredibly false to only talk about the good stuff, as if I would be perpetuating every Hollywood myth that teaching is like Dead Poets Society and Stand and Deliver. Parents (and administrators) should know that teaching their children isn’t always a treat. I believe that suggestion cheapens both my job and shortchanges the child.

I suppose in this sense, it’s a bit like parenting these days. People always tell you to have children because the good moments outweigh the bad. They never talk about what happens when your child ends up less than perfect. I’m thinking here of We Need to Talk About Kevin — an excellent book that I actually got to read for fun (gasp!) over the winter holiday — and of the woman who got lambasted by social networking sites after she compared her son to Adam Lanza, the Newtown, CT shooter, in her blog. After all, children are innocence incarnate, according to those wonderful Romantic poets William Blake and William Wordsworth, and it seems to be an idea that we’ve held on to since then. To imply otherwise makes one cynical (as I might be) or a monster (as the post-CT blogger was called). Perhaps I’m taking this a bit too far, but it would be interesting to compare the number of positive media portrayals of children against the negatives, and see how this affects the attitude of the generation of parents-to-be.

What, then, is the real problem? Is the problem that some people (and teachers in particular) don’t know where to draw the line when it comes to sharing about their workplace? Or is the problem something deeper: that we don’t want to deal with the negative aspects of children, especially in school?

What do you think?

How do we deal with the “kids who can’t learn”? This is a question that I’ve been asking myself a lot lately.

In the States, I spent my student teaching in a “collaborative classroom”. This was where the school (or society?) put the kids with learning and behavioral disabilities who needed extra attention and remedial reading and writing instruction. At the time, I hated this form of “tracking”. However, now that I’ve started my first year of teaching, I can appreciate how hard it would be to try to deal with these students and with my “at-level” or even “gifted” kids all in the same room. Hard? Yes. Impossible? Certainly not (with support or changes to the way schools function).

At my current school we do things a little differently. Because of my experiences student teaching, I was handing one “SAP” class this year. SAP stands for Student Assistance Program (although my students fondly call it “Super Awesome People”). Because the school is so small, I only have a handful of students with minor problems (I say this in comparison to my kids last year) ranging from ADHD to mild Autism. We meet between two and four times a week, and I try to provide them with extra support on assignments and other “good student” skills.

However, something has been irking me about the way the class is set up. Usually I spend so much time trying to get them to sit still and work on assignments that were due three weeks ago, that I never get time to review the essay writing skills needed for the upcoming assignment or the organization and planning skills that they all so desperately lack. I also spend a good deal of my time supporting subjects like science and math, which, let’s face it, is not ideal coming from an English teacher. I really love my kids and I love helping them, but isn’t there a better way?

Here are a few of the questions that I’ve been struggling with:

  • Why does the education system feel the need to stick all the “struggling” kids in the same room, and tell one teacher to help them?
  • Why not give them extra tutoring time with their subject area teachers or even with their gifted peers?
  • What message do we send to these kids when we take them out of other subject classes and stick them all in a room together? And what affect does this have on their self-esteem and motivation after 1, 3, 5, even 10 years?
  • Are we really being responsible educators by pushing them to learn information exactly when and how we tell them to, always pushing them on to the next grade and through the assembly line, instead of making accommodations?

 
What have your experiences been? Or do you have any answers to these questions?

One of the first things Curry teaches us is to “know your students”. It’s a great philosophy, and one that I teach by. I know that it pertains to students as individuals, but I also found it true for students as a whole. And when I made the switch from my student teaching in Cville to my first year at an international school in Germany, I really had to readjust my expectations.

In Cville I had two sets of kids: the “honors” students who came from upper-middle class (mostly white) backgrounds, and the lower SES kids who were mostly mixed race. These kids were my biggest challenges, as they were coming from homes where there wasn’t a place for them to study, a healthy meal to keep them going, and sometimes even a stable parent to support them. For them, school was often just the thing they did during the day to see their friends, and they didn’t think it would take them anywhere.

At the international school, most of my students have a loving family and a large bank account, and they value the education that they’re receiving. Clearly I had to readjust my way of thinking. Oddly, some of their behaviors are the same. I still don’t always get their homework, but instead of the reason being that they just didn’t care to do it or never have a materials, it’s because they had soccer and after-school music lessons and couldn’t fit it in. Or perhaps they already had 3 hours of homework in science and math and had to prioritize.

I think the biggest difference is that while my students all have physical homes, they don’t really have one place that they can call “home”. Many of them have lived in multiple countries over the years, and don’t identify strongly with one over another. Or they may have one parents from one country and another parent from a different country, but may never have lived in either. The best example I can give you is this: A student* at our school is ethnically Japanese. However, she was adopted by one parent who is German and another who is American, and spent the majority of her young life in India. She speaks Hindi, German, Italian, English, and Japanese. So what culture does she identify with the most? She’s trying very hard to make friends with the Indian girls at school, as she identified with that culture the most. Unfortunately, those girls don’t seem to like having her around or really see her as “Indian”.

Like this young girl, my students are privileged in a way that most of us will never know, and yet they can be so lonely. And like most middle schoolers, they are wacky, but also so shy when they have to make the switch to a new school for the umpteenth time. And most of my older kids can be slightly clueless about the problems of poverty, classism, and intolerance that exist outside of their bubble. Still, they can be entirely too serious about their academic life. They are all these things at once, and I continue to find out more as I scratch further and further beneath the surface.

I’ll leave you with this final example and question that I had the other day.

In my quest to “know my students”, I discovered that the reason why one of my students* didn’t turn his essay in on time (it was 5 days late) was because his weekends and after-school time are taken up by drama. Not only that, but his family returned to their home country and he remains here because the drama school that he was admitted to is very prestigious. Nevertheless, I was annoyed that he didn’t send me an email asking for an extension (which I would have gladly granted regardless of his situation). Someone even told me, “Don’t be too upset with him; his life is very hard”. I ended up accepting his paper, though I couldn’t help but feeling that I’d somehow “cheapened” what it means to have a deadline.

I imagine it is very hard indeed to be an ocean away from your parents and to be either studying or practicing non-stop. Still, something irked me about the situation. After all, some of my kids in the States didn’t have parents or even homes to go home to, or they were too busy worrying over younger siblings or after-school jobs to turn assignments in on time. Their lives were just as hard. Should deadlines not have applied to them either?

And so yes, we all have to know our students and make exceptions when they’re needed. But where do we draw the line? Does my talented, lonely international student deserve a break anymore than my underprivileged, worried students from the States? Somehow I suspect that “knowing your students” has as much to do with knowing yourself and knowing society as it does your students.

What do you think?

(*Note that some details have been changed to protect my students’ identities.)

Somewhere in my first semester of teaching, a colleague remarked that there’s a big difference between first semester freshmen and second semester freshmen. I tried not to think too much about her comment as there wasn’t anything I could do about it — I just tried to enjoy the ninth graders I had as they figured out their place in high school.

Very early in the new semester, however, I learned just how right she was. Students were chatty and fought me every step of the way of trying to work toward a more respectful, thoughtful classroom. Our school behaviorist came and observed the class a few times and suggested a few modifications that helped (weekly community meetings and a reward system among others). When we returned from spring break, however, a few students became completely divested from our big goal of showing respect. After one particularly trying community meeting where they made it clear that my expectations of no talking over top of others and kindness were just too much to expect, I wrote the following letter to share during the next free write: Read More

If you haven’t heard of the Ron Clark Academy yet, then you have to check this place out! It’s a private, non-profit middle school in Atlanta, Georgia that’s got a pretty fun take on education. A coworker of mine recently shared this video with me, and it shows some pretty enthusiastic teaching (and learning) going on!

Read More