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.