Thursday, March 17, 2005
Of high school washrooms and Title 1 students
Because I have a few moments now, I’m going to describe, in excruciating detail, my experience taking over the classroom. I’m taking over today because Ms. N, the teacher, has gone to a conference in Springfield. I walked in this morning bright and early, at 7:00. Walking into the room, I remembered to say bismillah (yay!) I put my things into the cabinet, and rearranged the desks. I had to rummage for Ms. N’s passwords (she gave them to me). Now I’m in the computer (yay!). The most interesting experience thus far (8:15) has been my trip to the washroom. I’ve needed to use it every single day I’ve been here (twelve). I’ve visited it numerous times, but never had the stomach to use it. Instead, I’ve tried sitting down for longer periods, leaving my water bottle home on purpose, and running out of here as soon as I could after school. But I thought the students would suspect something today. And I’m not sure even I could hold it until 2:45 today. The washroom door has a sign on it, prohibiting book bags, electronics, and purses any larger than the size of the sign on the door. I was surprised to see this. Ms. N carries herself so professionally, that even though I know the school is ‘failing’ under NCLB, and that the school has taken a variety of measures to try to improve test scores, I didn’t think the school had serious issues. Of course there are a lot of students absent in my classes because of family issues, suspensions, and just plain ditching. Anyway, it was a spooky moment to behold that sign. I so wish all schools could have the ethic and the excitement of Illinois Math and Science Academy, where I observed classes for a day last fall. Students in that place had respect and dignity for themselves and their schools. Teachers created an atmosphere of respect that I’ve not seen before. At most places, you can get a feel for the environment of the school through the look of the washrooms. At IMSA, washrooms were roomy, they were clean, and had plenty of toilet paper, had faucets that didn’t splash water on you, and had soap in dispensers. Here, washrooms are tiny spaces. It’s impossible to get inside a stall without touching the walls. Most stalls have little toilet tissue, and every single stall stinks as though it hasn’t been washed in ten years. There is no soap. Recently, a lot of high schools have been closing down faculty washrooms, because they’re so often left unused, that students use them as their own secret spaces for illicit activities. I hate the public washroom here. Can’t wait to go home and take a shower. But, I think it’s important for faculty to use the student washroom. It’s egalitarian. It’s also got to force the staff to call for some improvements. This is it for now. The sub, who is the official person responsible if anything goes wrong (heh), has come in, and left. Our first class is second hour, at 9:00. There’s still about thirty-five minutes left. I’m going to review the lessons. Back now, at 8:30. Yesterday, I had my first meeting with my supervisor and cooperating teacher (Ms. N). They’re both great people to work with. I think I’m blessed. All my colleagues at this school are great people (really). They both read some sappy statement I wrote to apply for student teaching. I have no idea what I wrote. It’s been a long time now. But they think I’m courageous. I find this humorous, because that’s not how I’d describe myself. At the same time, it lifts my spirits, because courage is important to me. It’s something I always notice in others. It’s something I pray for. I think I’ll really review my lessons, and then get ready to go to the lab. The students are doing a webquest today. Actually, it’s not a true research. It’s more like a guided internet reading. They’ll be practicing reading more than researching. They’ll be skimming longer articles, and then they’ll be paraphrasing. A few minutes after school. This is tiring! It’s not that I haven’t taught before. But it’s not often that I’ve planned a lesson with perfect thoroughness, with every step plotted on paper, and then botch the lesson completely! That’s exactly what happened today. It should have worked perfectly. The sub applauded my teaching. The kids didn’t learned nothing. The biggest problem is that they don’t think in sentences. They don’t think of things as happening. I know this is strange. But literate people have statements in their heads. They know that something does something for anything to happen. Not here. I don’t think I’m allowed to begin again at the sentence level. But these kids are set up for failure the way things are. Think of it as requiring someone to produce a functional website, using advanced html and JavaScript when they haven’t learned to even open a web browser. They may be able to learn if they could read books appropriate for their level, and write about subjects appropriate for their levels. But getting them to paraphrase an article about life in Tudor towns ain’t working. Okay, now I need to go home and take a shower. ¶ 3/17/2005 02:34:00 PM
Because I have a few moments now, I’m going to describe, in excruciating detail, my experience taking over the classroom. I’m taking over today because Ms. N, the teacher, has gone to a conference in Springfield. I walked in this morning bright and early, at 7:00. Walking into the room, I remembered to say bismillah (yay!) I put my things into the cabinet, and rearranged the desks. I had to rummage for Ms. N’s passwords (she gave them to me). Now I’m in the computer (yay!). The most interesting experience thus far (8:15) has been my trip to the washroom. I’ve needed to use it every single day I’ve been here (twelve). I’ve visited it numerous times, but never had the stomach to use it. Instead, I’ve tried sitting down for longer periods, leaving my water bottle home on purpose, and running out of here as soon as I could after school. But I thought the students would suspect something today. And I’m not sure even I could hold it until 2:45 today. The washroom door has a sign on it, prohibiting book bags, electronics, and purses any larger than the size of the sign on the door. I was surprised to see this. Ms. N carries herself so professionally, that even though I know the school is ‘failing’ under NCLB, and that the school has taken a variety of measures to try to improve test scores, I didn’t think the school had serious issues. Of course there are a lot of students absent in my classes because of family issues, suspensions, and just plain ditching. Anyway, it was a spooky moment to behold that sign. I so wish all schools could have the ethic and the excitement of Illinois Math and Science Academy, where I observed classes for a day last fall. Students in that place had respect and dignity for themselves and their schools. Teachers created an atmosphere of respect that I’ve not seen before. At most places, you can get a feel for the environment of the school through the look of the washrooms. At IMSA, washrooms were roomy, they were clean, and had plenty of toilet paper, had faucets that didn’t splash water on you, and had soap in dispensers. Here, washrooms are tiny spaces. It’s impossible to get inside a stall without touching the walls. Most stalls have little toilet tissue, and every single stall stinks as though it hasn’t been washed in ten years. There is no soap. Recently, a lot of high schools have been closing down faculty washrooms, because they’re so often left unused, that students use them as their own secret spaces for illicit activities. I hate the public washroom here. Can’t wait to go home and take a shower. But, I think it’s important for faculty to use the student washroom. It’s egalitarian. It’s also got to force the staff to call for some improvements. This is it for now. The sub, who is the official person responsible if anything goes wrong (heh), has come in, and left. Our first class is second hour, at 9:00. There’s still about thirty-five minutes left. I’m going to review the lessons. Back now, at 8:30. Yesterday, I had my first meeting with my supervisor and cooperating teacher (Ms. N). They’re both great people to work with. I think I’m blessed. All my colleagues at this school are great people (really). They both read some sappy statement I wrote to apply for student teaching. I have no idea what I wrote. It’s been a long time now. But they think I’m courageous. I find this humorous, because that’s not how I’d describe myself. At the same time, it lifts my spirits, because courage is important to me. It’s something I always notice in others. It’s something I pray for. I think I’ll really review my lessons, and then get ready to go to the lab. The students are doing a webquest today. Actually, it’s not a true research. It’s more like a guided internet reading. They’ll be practicing reading more than researching. They’ll be skimming longer articles, and then they’ll be paraphrasing. A few minutes after school. This is tiring! It’s not that I haven’t taught before. But it’s not often that I’ve planned a lesson with perfect thoroughness, with every step plotted on paper, and then botch the lesson completely! That’s exactly what happened today. It should have worked perfectly. The sub applauded my teaching. The kids didn’t learned nothing. The biggest problem is that they don’t think in sentences. They don’t think of things as happening. I know this is strange. But literate people have statements in their heads. They know that something does something for anything to happen. Not here. I don’t think I’m allowed to begin again at the sentence level. But these kids are set up for failure the way things are. Think of it as requiring someone to produce a functional website, using advanced html and JavaScript when they haven’t learned to even open a web browser. They may be able to learn if they could read books appropriate for their level, and write about subjects appropriate for their levels. But getting them to paraphrase an article about life in Tudor towns ain’t working. Okay, now I need to go home and take a shower. ¶ 3/17/2005 02:34:00 PM