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.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Saturday, July 07, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, May 25, 2007
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!
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!
Saturday, December 23, 2006
69 days
My first teaching experience out of college lasted a mere 69 days. That's right 69 days!!! I thought I was going to be teaching students. Turns out, it was more like babysitting. I began teaching 6th and 7th grade students in my hometown. I made many mistakes along the way, which I have learned from and will never do again. I hope to list my troubles here, so that perhaps in the future, my misfortune will help another unsuspecting first year teacher.
Rule #1) Always start the school year at the BEGINNING of the school year. Due to the fact that I was on contract with a previous employer, I could not start until two weeks after school began. BIG MISTAKE!!! HUGE!!!! It was all down hill from there. If you can't start on the very first day, you must rule with an iron fist at least until Winter Break, otherwise they will eat you alive.
Rule #2) You are their teacher, not their friend. I always wanted to be the cool teacher. The one that every kid liked. However, I realized during this time, that the students liked me, but they in NO way respected me. This was where I lost them.
Rule #3) If you are a 22 year old female, right out of college, and you are teaching 6th and 7th grade boys, whose hormones are going crazy, it is DEFINATELY NOT a good idea to wear pantyhose. Once, I leaned on a desk and crossed my legs. A male student had to be "excused" because he heard my pantyhose crinkle and it "turned him on". AAAAHHHH the joy of puberty!
Rule #4) Dealing with Parents - Most students don't care about their education, because their parents don't care about their education. I remember a call that I made to a parent about troubles that I was having with a student in my class. The parent's response to me was, "Well, from 8 to 3, he's your problem. YOU deal with him!" CLICK! ....... Nice huh? And thank you for your support.
There are many more rules, ideas and brainstorms that I would love to share. Please stay tuned for another installment. However, before I go, let me just say that my last day at this school ended with a student throwing a chair at me, and I passed out in class.
But that's another story for another day.....
Rule #1) Always start the school year at the BEGINNING of the school year. Due to the fact that I was on contract with a previous employer, I could not start until two weeks after school began. BIG MISTAKE!!! HUGE!!!! It was all down hill from there. If you can't start on the very first day, you must rule with an iron fist at least until Winter Break, otherwise they will eat you alive.
Rule #2) You are their teacher, not their friend. I always wanted to be the cool teacher. The one that every kid liked. However, I realized during this time, that the students liked me, but they in NO way respected me. This was where I lost them.
Rule #3) If you are a 22 year old female, right out of college, and you are teaching 6th and 7th grade boys, whose hormones are going crazy, it is DEFINATELY NOT a good idea to wear pantyhose. Once, I leaned on a desk and crossed my legs. A male student had to be "excused" because he heard my pantyhose crinkle and it "turned him on". AAAAHHHH the joy of puberty!
Rule #4) Dealing with Parents - Most students don't care about their education, because their parents don't care about their education. I remember a call that I made to a parent about troubles that I was having with a student in my class. The parent's response to me was, "Well, from 8 to 3, he's your problem. YOU deal with him!" CLICK! ....... Nice huh? And thank you for your support.
There are many more rules, ideas and brainstorms that I would love to share. Please stay tuned for another installment. However, before I go, let me just say that my last day at this school ended with a student throwing a chair at me, and I passed out in class.
But that's another story for another day.....
Friday, December 22, 2006
What they don't teach in student teaching....
So when you go to college and you obtain a degree from an accreditted institution of education, you believe that you have been equipt with the necessary tools and an arsnal of theories to help you to manage and handle your "First Year of Teaching". You are an EDUCATOR!!! You are ready to hit the ground running, molding young minds, changing the world of tomorrow for the better, right?...... WRONG!!! Inevidably, you hit the ground running and you hit a brick wall!
Things are not like they were in the "ideal" classroom of your student teaching experience. There, you had another teacher. Someone who could help. Someone you could lean on. Someone who could be there for you when the S*&^ hit the fan. In "real life" teaching, there is no one! It is only you. You, among a class of children waiting for your next move. It's sort of like a chess game of life. Except you ALWAYS have to be thinking four and five moves ahead. Or you will never survive. I don't care how many Harry Wong books you've read, things are about to get stressful.....
We all go through it, every teacher, every year. The newbies and the veterans. Believe me, you are not alone. Here you will find stories that will help you get through your roughest times.
Hope you enjoy!
Things are not like they were in the "ideal" classroom of your student teaching experience. There, you had another teacher. Someone who could help. Someone you could lean on. Someone who could be there for you when the S*&^ hit the fan. In "real life" teaching, there is no one! It is only you. You, among a class of children waiting for your next move. It's sort of like a chess game of life. Except you ALWAYS have to be thinking four and five moves ahead. Or you will never survive. I don't care how many Harry Wong books you've read, things are about to get stressful.....
We all go through it, every teacher, every year. The newbies and the veterans. Believe me, you are not alone. Here you will find stories that will help you get through your roughest times.
Hope you enjoy!
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