From the Other Side of the Desk

I'm sitting here giving a test and as I look out at my class I'm concerned. All the desks are in rows, except seven. These seven are facing the wall. This not being my classroom (I teach the rest of the day at the high school) I ask why? Why are seven desks facing the wall? I am told 73% of this year's eight graders are in danger of not promoting to high school due to failing grades. These desks are for the 73%, who need to catch up. They have been given packets of make-up work for all their missing work (even from the fall); a last chance to catch-up. For the next few weeks they do not participate with classmates in learning new instruction. They face the wall in isolation to do their packets. These seven desks pain me. Are we just enabling the students by giving them chance after chance to catch-up? Is there no accountability, no consequence for choices? I've been told this happens every year, so why? Why is it that they do this if almost all students get promoted anyways? There is a flaw with this system, this mode of operation. Maybe for once students should face their consequences? Maybe students, maybe parents would realize promotion doesn't happen due to age. Maybe there should be higher expectations and accountability. Why is it people of this community just accept it because of the reputation? I don't know the answers, but these questions can't be suppressed.

From the Other Side of the Desk -- full of questions with no answers

Something I have noticed throughout the year is that on those days when I am tired, my speech . . . well it gets a little bit sloppy. My mind is thinking faster than my lips and my lips just can't keep up and get all confused. For example, last week I was thinking "If you have any garbage from your breakfast please throw it away," but my lips said "If you have any breakfast from your garbage . . ." oops! Sometimes words get switched around and then sometimes they just get combined. Like yesterday, I was trying to say "Make sure your planners are filled out," but I said, "Make sure your flanners . . ." and the room erupted in laughter. Sometimes I mess up when I'm trying to write, think, and talk all at the same time up at the board. We were doing a story problem one day about a pet shop and how many types of different pets were in the shop. Well, I was explaining, thinking, and writing. I was supposed to be writing the number of hamsters, but instead wrote hamstrings . . . wow. That was before Christmas, but one of my students just won't let me forget. Haha. Those tired days just leave me tongue tied.

From the Other Side of the Desk--a wee bit tired

Last Friday marked the end of Trimester 2 at school and I have to admit I was thankful to say goodbye to it! The last week was very hectic with students turning in missing assignments all the way back from January. In a way it almost reminded me of finals week in college. I felt stressed, not for myself passing, but for my students passing! Unfortunately, many of them did not, especially 5th period. I never thought I would see a day when more of my students failed than passed, but it happened. About 5 out of 20 passed.

Monday begins Trimester 3 with 13 weeks and 64 days left of school. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. As my contract comes up for renewal mid-April I find myself at a loss for what to do. They say the first three years are the hardest, but I don't know if I can make it more than three trimesters. I find myself possibly becoming a statistic. I feel like a failure or quitter. Perhaps I should persevere, after all, I did go to school for 4 years and pay thousands of dollars to become licensed. I feel guilty for giving up on such a high calling. I mean, what could possibly be more purposeful than investing in young people's lives? Yet, I'm worn out with the apathy, the disrespect, the mean tricks played to get my reaction, the guilt that is placed on me. I can't help the relief that floods my being and the hope that rises in my soul as I see the light coming at the end of this long tunnel.

From the Other Side of the Desk--a statistic in waiting . . . 64 days

Here is some of what I hear everyday:

So far in my 20 weeks of teaching I have encountered many surprises and situations which college classes didn't necessarily prepare me to handle. For example, bodily functions in the classroom. I expected I would have the occasional bodily function disruptions, but I did not expect it to interrupt my class multiple times in a week! This week and even into last week I have been dealing with serious disruptions caused by flatulence (a.k.a passing gas or fluffing or farting).

Now, I know you are probably laughing, but I'm telling you its BAD! 4th period I have this one boy who flatulates multiple times throughout class and it is thick! It is so terrible that half the students are coughing, some are opening the door, the other the windows, and one is even spraying my air deodorizer. All the students know it is this boy and so they are making comments to him like, "Come'on man!" or "I'm gonna put the air freshener up your butt so when you fart it sprays nice smelling stuff," or "Go out into the hallway!" His response, "I had some really good beans last night." Apparently, he isn't that embarrassed.

Obviously, somehow I have to address the situation. I can't really say, "Hey _______ stop farting." I can't really send him to the office. Instead I just told the student he could go into the hall whenever he needed . . . like that wasn't awkward! What else was I supposed to do though? Today, it was even worse, if you can imagine. I had 2 students flatulating! How am I supposed to teach my kids when every five minutes they are gagging from the most foul smelling farts ever!?! It's all I can do to not puke in my trash can or have a sour face, seriously. I never really thought I would have to deal with this situation, it is just so awkward. If you have any suggestions feel free to make a comment and share. All I have to say is freshman boys stink.

From The Other Side Of The Desk -- Gagging

Last week was a hard week of teaching for me. I worked very long hours and had some horrible parent teacher conferences. One of my students was staying after school on Friday and commented that she had heard I had some difficulties with parents at conferences. Shocked, I asked her how she knew. She said, everybody knew. Curious, I asked her how. She said she heard it from the student whose parents didn't like me. All I could manage to say was, "oh," but really I was thinking "great, so now students are bragging about their parents ripping on me."

Lost in reflection over this, I barely heard what my students said next, but I am so glad I did. She told me that even though people were saying I was a bad teacher she wanted me to know that she thought I was doing a good job for my first year. She said that I was the first math teacher she had ever understood. In her previous math class the teacher never really taught them and she was entirely lost. She thanked me for explaining the math step by step because she got it that way. She said her mom also agreed I was a good teacher based on her new understanding of math.

She just wanted me "to know." She was thoughtful, sincere. She'll never know what that meant to me.


From the other side of the desk--thankful I'm not the "worst" teacher in everyone's eyes

They told me the first year was "the worst," that there would be hard days. I knew that, what I didn't know is that there would be more hard days than good days. They told me that I would work long hours and stay after school a lot. What I didn't know is that I would be living, eating, and breathing my very job.  They told me that I might have difficult parents to work with. What I didn't know is how horrible I would feel when they accused me of their child's failure in my class. I had no idea they would pick apart my grading scales, classroom procedures, and assignments. They told me I should differentiate my instruction to meet the needs of my students. What they didn't tell me is that I would have brilliant eighth graders who can teach themselves out of the book and juniors who can't do basic arithmetic in the same class. They told me I would make mistakes and that was okay. What I didn't know is that those mistakes would happen every single day, every single class  period. They told me I was supposed to teach to the state standards. What I didn't know is that students would come into my class without the prerequisite skills they needed making it impossible to teach all the standards for the course. They told me not every student would pass, that some students would be unmotivated. What I didn't know is that I would receive blank tests, that I would have a hard time separating my feelings of success from student performance. They told me a lot, but I didn't know even more.

From the other side of the desk--a little down