Parents

Every year, along with the mountains of paperwork, administration and curriculum that we have to face, another "problem" that all teachers have to overcome is... parents. Please let me explain, that for the most part, I have wonderful parents in my class, who really care about their children and their education. But it seems like every year, in every class, I have a handful of parents who could care less about what is happening to their children in my classroom.

Let me say this: I AM NOT A BABYSITTER!!!!! I AM A TEACHER! I AM AN EDUCATOR!
I have a job to do. My job is to teach YOUR child, to become successful IN SCHOOL. It is not my responsibility or duty to teach YOUR child how to behave when they are away from your clutches. School is NOT a daycare to send your child from the hours of 8 to 4, so that you can have free time. My job is in a classroom, where everyone should have the opportunity to learn without distractions from YOUR child. I am so sick of students who come to school and do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! Only for me to get a call from you to ask, "What are you going to do to help my child?" I'll do my job, when you do yours.

Secondly, when I do call you for assistance with your child, DO NOT say, "I know. He treats me the same way at home." THAT'S YOUR PROBLEM! You need to gain control of your child and have a "come to Jesus meeting" with him or her. If I EVER treated MY teachers the way that some of my students disrespectfully treat me, my daddy would have my butt! And though, many children these days come from single parent homes, it is not an excuse for ANY child to treat an adult disrespectfully. If you are a single mother, God Bless You! But I have several mothers who are parenting their child by themselves. But did you catch the verb there? It's PARENTING. Try it sometime. It's hard, I know. But it's your job, duty and responsiblity to ensure that children are treating their teachers, and other adults, with the same respect that they have for you. If they give you no respect, DON'T EXPECT ME TO ATTEMPT TO GAIN RESULTS IN MY CLASSROOM, THAT YOU DO NOT DEMAND IN YOUR HOME!

Lastly, when I contact you with a problem, or give you some suggestions on how to make your child more successful, I AM NOT LYING!!! Children play adults against each other. Whether it be mom against dad or teacher against parents, all children try to "get out" of trouble by making excuses why they could not or would not complete a task. I am not "out to get" your child, I am here to help. I am not trying to "fail him/her", because my job depends on their achievements. If you feel I "just don't like him/her", then get your child out of my class! My whole career is based on the fact that I LOVE CHILDREN, ALL CHILDREN! The only person that I "don't like" in our relationship, IS YOU!!!

SO GET OFF MY BACK! I AM DOING THE BEST THAT I CAN WITH THE WHATEVER YOU SEND TO ME, AND I AM NOT A MIRACLE WORKER!

Thank you for listening. I will now get off of my soapbox because I have test papers to grade. Yes, just like you, my job never ends either.

31 kids and a blind girl

This school year, with all of the trials and tribulations that are faced in every classroom, I am unfortunately put into the an unsatisying situation of having 32 students crammed into a little class. We are like sardines in their little tin container. One student being a child with special needs. She is legally blind. How am I suppose to teach in this environment? Are they trying to make me quit? In any case, I better be at least nominated and considered for Teacher of the Year.
What makes matters most, is that my area superintendent paid us a visit and came up with a list of things that we have to be in compliance with by tomorrow. This "ticky - tack crap" as I have labled it, has nothing to do with student achievement or making my job easier. If anything, these things that I have to do, will actually make my job harder and more time consuming. But it will make her $100,000+a year job easier to check up on us with a checklist that is quite absurd. Also, there is no end in sight to my sardine can obstacle. I hate it! But I guess, we all have bosses who are stupid and we can't stand.
There are, however, good sides to my year. As with last year, my students make me smile daily. For example, last week we spent Tuesday discussing 9/11 and Patriot's Day. I tried to get my students to understand why we remember that day, those who have risked their lives, and those who continue to risk their lives in the war. My students came alive with questions and comments about why we are fighting in Iraq and when were we going to get Bin Ladin. They were fascinated. My teachable moment prevailed. I had succeeded.
Later that week, we were finding articles in the newspaper about Risks and Consequences for our Concept/Question board. They were again enthralled with displaying the topic. Many found pictures and articles about football players who took risks of injury every week. Some found articles on the Consequences on 9/11, pictures of the towers and Ground Zero. There was also a picture of Osama in the paper, showing the new picture that may or may not be of him from the video that may or may not be from him. And in that teachable moment, one of my students came to me with the picture cut out for me to see. "Look, Ms. Guidry!" said the proud student beaming, "This is the man that is trying to kill us with the toilet paper hair!" After laughing hysterically, I began to beam, knowing that even with 32 students in my class, I was still able to get through to them. Even if we were learning in a sardine can.

Kenny Boo

When I was a first year teacher, I taught sixth and seventh graders for 69 days. (See previous blog) In one of my seventh grade classes, the class clown was a 14 year old boy named Kenny. Kenny was a below average student that I continually tried to change. I struggled very hard to make him interested in my science class, but Kenny was more interested in being social. He was constantly talking during my lessons and could care less about the Life Science that I was teaching. It was very obvious that Kenny was way more interested in making his classmates laugh, than learning about cell division. But, I must admit, Kenny was indeed funny. Even though he was a constant distraction to my teaching, he was also very entertaining. He made me laugh on several occasions and I really liked having Kenny in my class.
Kenny was liked by everyone. Students were constantly calling his name in class to ask him a question or to tell him to do something to entertaining. One day, I noticed that his classmates always referred to him as "Kenny Boo". I thought this friendly nickname was cute, but was curious to find the origin of the "boo" part. So during class one day I asked, "Kenny, why does everybody call you, Kenny Boo?" And with his arms opened wide, and a shrug of his shoulders, Kenny smiled from ear to ear and explained, "'Cause I'm every body's "Boo", Ms. Guidry!!!" Of course he was! What a silly question for me to ask! Like I didn't already know the answer?
I never forgot about Kenny. Out of every student I taught for that brief period, I remember instances and situations, and stories from the different classes, with different students. But, to be honest, I can't remember one name of one student from my sixth and seventh grade class. I remember faces, but every name eludes me. Every name that is, expect for Kenny. Because he was "every body's Boo", he was obviously, very memorable.
Over the next few years, I thought about Kenny every now and again. I wondered what happened to my very first class clown. I wondered if another teacher had succeeded in getting through to Kenny, where I had failed. I wondered if he eventually took his studies as serious as he took his socializing. Then one day I received the answer to all my questions about Kenny Boo.
I was driving around my home town, listening to the local radio station. The hour news report came on and there was a story about a shooting in town, in which a young baby was shot through the hand. The story immediately caught my attention because I thought how sad it was that an innocent 9 month old baby girl was caught in the middle of a gun battle and was hurt by it. When I got home, I told my parents the story about the baby. I was still very saddened about the news, but at the time, it was a story that happened to someone else. At the time, I had no connection to the shooting. It was just another sad news story that I had heard about, and one that could not be prevented.
The next day, I was listening to the radio again when a follow up story on the shooting came on the news. The full story about the baby girl was that she was caught in the middle of a gang shooting. At the time, she was being held by her father, whose was the shooter's intended target. Again, I was saddened by the news for this baby. When I finally got home, I felt compelled to look through the newspaper, (something that was very rare for me as I usually received my daily news from other sources). For some reason on this day, I wanted to find more on this little baby. With the newspaper in hand, something immediately told me to turn to the obituaries. What was I looking for? An article about the baby? Why? The news said nothing about the baby being deceased? When I turned toward the latest deaths, there it was, a picture of the baby's father, with his name in bold print: Kenneth "Kenny Boo" Williams.
At the age of 18, Kenny had been killed, as the radio reported, in a gang related shooting. At the time, he was holding his 9 month old baby girl, (his second child). Kenny was shot four times, with one bullet penetrating the hand of his daughter through and through. Kenny died immediately, and although his daughter would have reconstructed surgery on her hand, she was predicted to make a full recovery.
I read Kenny's obituary several times. At first, I could not fathom that this was the same student that had once been my class clown. I went back and counted the years that it had been, and did the math. I realized that the young student in my class and this shooting victim was one in the same. Besides, how many other young men were known as "Kenny Boo" to his friends and family?
I felt very guilty about Kenny's death. Teachers are suppose to change the lives of their students. To me, I had let Kenny down, again. I didn't change his life. I didn't try hard enough to help him with his academics. I didn't care enough. I didn't stick it out, and because of this, Kenny's life went down the wrong path. His humor was enjoyed by many, but his daughter would never be able to experience it. Now, I realized why I was so saddened when I heard the story. From that day forward, I vowed to always be there for my students. I vowed to be the best teacher that I could be, and always change the lives of my students. I knew there would be no guarantees about the my students' future, but it would not be because I didn't try. And from that day forward, every day of my teaching career, every accomplishment and every achievement would be dedicated to Kenny Boo. Because he was one student who taught me a lot more, than I ever taught him.

Halloween Candy

Since Halloween fell on a school day this year, I was curious (and a little afraid, I must admit) as to what awaited me the day AFTER Halloween. I was hoping that maybe some of my students would perhaps forget about the holiday all together (which unfortunately, was not the case). On the day in question, I eagerly awaited my first students. I wanted to get the 411 on the Halloween festivities and wanted to know the plans that the students had for the night.
As my first student came into my class, I called her over to my desk. She was so happy and could not wait to tell me all about going trick-or-treating for the night. Unhappy that my wish was not coming true, I lied and told her that I thought it was great that she was going trick-or-treating around her neighborhood. Suddenly this student started laughing. It seemed that though I was the teacher, she had to teach me the "rules" of Halloween in "the hood".
First, I must preface this story by describing my students to you. You see, I have 24 African-American students and some are of a lower socioeconomic background. So when I asked my student if she was going to get candy around her neighborhood, she looked at me like I was crazy. "No, Ms. Guidry", she explained, "We don't get candy in MY neighborhood. " My education on Halloween candy continued as she explained to me "the way things go" in her "hood". She told me that people in her neighborhood did not give out the "good" candy. People in her neighborhood gave out "the little Snicker bars from the Dollar store". So when my student and her friends went trick-or-treating, they traveled down the street to "the rich, white folk neighborhood". Evidently, "rich, white folks" know the right candy to purchase. My student preceded to tell me that when they traveled into the "rich, white folks" neighborhood, they received "the BIG Snicker bars". "Rich, white folks know how to give out candy," she said with a snap. These prizes were way better than the skimpy ones given out around where she lives.
I couldn't stop laughing. Who knew that children understood where to find the "goods" like their adult counterparts could find the best bargain pricing? I felt compelled to explain to my student that not all "white folks" would be giving out good candy. I told her that I was apart of the "poor, white folk" category and I would NOT be giving out "skimpy" candy bars because I wasn't giving out any candy this year.
"Now you know that ain't right Ms. Guidry," she responded. She was right, it wasn't right. But then again, I am far from being a "rich, white folk". It was definitely an educational experience for all.

From 8 to 3

In my first year of teaching, I had no idea what I was doing. I truly believed that I was going to "change the world" in a single year. I knew that I was the one who would "make the difference", secured with the promise of a utopia from the teaching profession: eager students holding on to my every word, ready to learn. We all know, of course, that this was not the case. Not in the least!

What I did find, were students who could have cared less about school or what I had to teach them. To make matters worse, I had absolutely NO management skills whatsoever, and to my detriment I had achieved the one thing that my methods professor told me never to do....... I smiled before Christmas! I was a goner from the very first day.

I still struggled, however, to break through to the other side. I desperately attempted to make a connection between me and my students. I tried everything that I could think of to make them want to do well and behave in my class. In a last stitch effort, I elicited the help of the only person I knew who could really impact the life of my most troublesome student. The only one who could make him behave and respect me as his teacher.

I choose this student because I knew that if I could just get him to participate in class and give me the respect that I deserved, surely the others would conveniently fall in line. So one afternoon, I stayed late after school and went into the teachers' lounge to make my "saving" phone call. ( It should be noted here, that this advice came from a veteran teacher, who told me never to call a parent from my home or cell phone because then the parent could ID my number and would have a way to contact me outside of school. She obviously did not know the caliber of parents to which I was dealing.) I dialed the number listed in the my student's information file. My stomach was in knots waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. One ring......two rings...... three rings...... yes! I thought to myself, "Perhaps I will be saved and will just be able to leave a message" avoiding the confrontation that would surely ensue from actually speaking to this parent. I wanted the problems with the student to cease, of course, but actually pleading my case to this mother, scared the life out of me.

Four rings......then "Hello?" came from the other end. OH NO!!!! I would have to explain my plight. I quickly got up the nerve and began describing to this parent the distracting behaviors her child was demonstrating in my class. I described how this behavior was not only hindering the learning process for her child, but of course, hurting other students in my class as well. I implored the parent for help to correct the interruptions from her son.

I knew that I had pleaded my case well, and surely she could hear the desperation in my voice. I just knew that she would sympathize with my dilemma saying how sorry she was and she would scold her son as soon as he got home from school. I knew that she would assure me that I would have absolutely no other problems with her son in my class.

There was a brief pause in the conversation, as I waited for her to respond to everything that I had just told her. I felt her absorbing all the information, eagerly awaiting for directions as to what she would like for me to do next.

Finally, she responded, "Well, from 8 to 3, he's your problem!" and hung up the phone.

Is it June 8th yet?

June 8th, the last day of school. The final frontier. I am so ready for school to be finished. The students are ready for school to be finished. The parents are ready for school to be finished. This year seems like such a long year.

This week was End Of Grade testing, thanks to President Bush and "No Child Left Behind". However, it seems the only people who are being "left behind" are me and my colleagues. I am exhausted. It seems like I have worked all year to prepare students for three days of testing, just to discover that this test does not seem to be much of a concern to them. Of course their parents are concerned because it determines what they have or have not learned this year. I am concerned because it shows how well I taught or didn't teach the material. Administration is concerned because it shows how well our school is achieving our goals. The only people who are not concerned, are those taking the tests, the students. They could care less!!!! It's not their job on the line. It's not their bonus schedule in jeopardy. Sure, they may get held back a year, and may not go into the next grade, but these days, that is not a very big deal to students, especially my students.

You see, my grade, fourth grade, is not a "gateway" year. This means that they do not "have to pass" the test, in order to pass the grade. I have several students who have not passed Reading or Math, can not complete ANY of the standards required of a fourth grade student. When I brought these students up for retention, I was told to "wait and let's catch them next year". Meaning that fifth grade IS a gateway year. Next year, if my students don't pass their End of Grade tests, they can not be promoted into the sixth grade.

So, what is the result? I have three students who can not read on a fourth grade level, who can not add or subtract properly, much less multiply or divide. Students who can barely write a clearly defined sentence much less a whole paragraph. These students will be going on into the fifth grade, and will be "caught" next year. Aren't we setting these students up for failure? What about those students who did work their hardest to succeed? Don't we owe them something for doing their job? Aren't we teaching students that it's ok to screw up during the year because we have to pass them anyway because it's not a "gateway" year? What will become of these students? It's days and weeks like this that I hate being an educator!