Did NOT see this coming.

Sweet Child o' Mine came in after school today. He wanted to use a computer to play a game; I said he could once he finished a science lab that I've been holding for him. He hemmed and hawed a bit, then sat down and got to work. We chatted a bit as he worked and I graded. At one point, he said, "Do they have teachers like you at Local High School?"

"I'm sure they do," I replied.

"Because maybe you could just go teach there."

I told him I probably couldn't (honestly, I'm lucky to have a job next year), but that I really appreciated that and that I'd keep an eye on the job postings just in case. He nodded. A few minutes later, he asked, "So.....would it be okay if I came back once I'm in LHS and you could still help me with my homework sometimes?"

"Of course it would," I said.

I don't imagine he'll ever come back for that, not actually...but how sweet that he asked.

And even more - how amazing that he's planning on doing homework in high school.

(Image credit to laffy4k)

I always feel the loss.

A student I adore sent me this email today:

Hi Ms. Teachin' -

I'm going to be leaving the school to live with my dad. I know it would be better if I just waited to the end of the school year but that probably wont happen. I just wanted to thank you for all of the support you gave me, it means a lot to me. Hopefully I'll be able to see you again but if I don't, Bye.

Apparently she ditched one day last week, and her mom decided she was done; washed her hands of her daughter. Her beautiful, intelligent, hard-working, sweet, amazing daughter, who sometimes makes mistakes since she's, you know, a KID.

Sigh.

Although I think living with her dad will be better for her (she's a lot happier when she interacts with her dad and much more nervous around her mom), I'm so sad that it's happening so close to the end of her last year in the school. It's just one more month - I'm really hoping she'll be able to find transportation back (that's the issue apparently) for such a short time frame.

I emailed her back right away to say how much I'd miss her and how much I hope it works out....she's a fabulous, fabulous, fabulous kid who really will change the world.

This is what's hardest for me about my school, bar none - the mobility. It comes with the poverty, I get that, but it's so heartbreaking to watch kids I love leave....and it happens all the time. The Charmer. DC. BB Bob. The Eyeliner Queen. The Natural Athlete. Slick. The Goofball. Kids I adore, kids I worked so hard to reach, kids who learned and grew and changed and were the better for having been in my class (at least mostly)....and they're all gone. And I'll probably never see most of them again.

I have to believe that at least some of the changes are for the best, and that they'll be okay no matter what (and they will, they will, I know that), and that they did learn something in my class, and that they end up okay. But it's hard to watch them leave and know it might be the last time.

They're good kids. They deserve the best. They deserve to be in good situations and I hope they are, I hope they're in better situations than before, I hope they find some stability and happiness.

But I miss them.

I hope she keeps in touch.

(Image credit to Eisenheim.)

Better for everyone

I used my relationship with a student the other day to try to change his behavior in someone else's class.

It's the first time I've done this explicitly. Sure, I've talked to kids before to try to get them to change things, and sometimes it's worked and sometimes it hasn't. It's a bit of a sensitive issue for some teachers, because what it means is that I have a better relationship with that student than they do, and I know a few of my colleagues feel sort of bad about that, and I try to be careful with that. I go to other teachers for help when I know a kid who performs well for them is being a pain for me, but since relationships are one of my strong points, it doesn't happen with every teacher. And so I try to step in only if it's a kid I'm actively mentoring, or if a teacher requests the help.

This one was both. My pal Sweet Child o' Mine is hugely obnoxious in one of his electives. He doesn't like the class, he doesn't like the teacher, and it's the last period of the day so he's just kinda done anyway.

The teacher is in her first year. She tries really hard and she cares about the kids and their success, but she's new and she's struggling with her classroom management and her student interactions, and it's been a tough year for her.

A while ago, she asked me for help. I'm on my building's leadership team because I facilitate our PBS stuff, and she asked to come observe one of my classes and if I'd observe hers. She observed me and I observed her other 8th grade class and offered some thoughts, but I haven't done the one with SCoM yet.

Apparently Wednesday he was terrible. Rude, refused to work, disruptive to other students (with whom he is friends, but still). Thus Thursday he was supposed to go to her for detention. He went to my room instead.

She asked me if she could go get him (I was still in the cafeteria talking to a colleague) and I said of course.

It didn't go well.

When she told him to go, apparently he said, "When I'm finished eating." She doesn't have the power to compel him to go because he doesn't respect her, and I don't think she knew what to do, and she came back to the cafeteria practically in tears because of it. And I felt so bad for her.

I tried to help. Did she want me to send him down? No, because now she needed time to plan (and I think she didn't want to deal with him after that, for which I don't blame her). Did she want me to come down during his class and the three of us could talk? No...she wasn't sure if she'd have time when the other kids were working independently enough to step outside. Did she want me to come down at the end of the day and we could talk then? No to that too. She just needed some time to think. I said of course, and that's when I offered to use the relationship. I told her he wouldn't be coming to my room for lunch until his behavior improved in her class. She said okay, but I don't think she thought it would make a difference; nothing else has.

When I got back to my room, I pulled SCoM out to the hall. "SCoM, do you treat me with respect?" He said yeah. "Do you treat every teacher with respect?" Yeah again. I persisted. "Do you treat Ms. Elective with respect?"

"....Sometimes."

"Right. But not always. Did you treat her with respect when she came up just now?"

"I just asked if I could wait till I was finished eating."

"Did you ASK her or did you TELL her?"

He thought briefly. "I think I asked....I don't know."

"Should you have asked or should you have just gone?"

"...I should've gone."

"Yup." I looked at him. "SCoM, you like eating lunch in my room, right? You like that I help you with your work? You like that I give you snacks?" He nodded to each. "As of right now, all that's done. Because right now I don't respect YOU." SCoM looked surprised, but I continued. "I don't respect someone who would be as rude to another human being as you are to her. You treat her badly, and I don't want to be friends with someone who would do that to someone else. So until your behavior in her class changes to be the type of student I know you can be, you and I are not friends. Understood?" He nodded again. "Do you know what I'm talking about? Do you know the problems with your behavior and what you need to do differently?"

"Yeah. I know."

"Then do it." I went back into the room, feeling kind of terrible. I don't like doing this kind of stuff, but no other consequences seem to matter to him (including referrals, detentions, suspensions....), and maybe this one would. He shuffled back in after me. We had maybe a minute left before lunch was over. When the bell rang, I told him to go to class and not be late (he's also tardy to his classes all the time). He nodded, smiling. I added that I didn't think it was funny to be late all the time, and he protested that he didn't either, and stopped smiling. He left, and I went about my business for the next two hours.

After school, he came back to my room. "Ms. Teachin', I was good in class today."

"Really good or just a little better?"

"Really good."

"Okay, SCoM. I'm glad to hear that. I'll check in with Ms. Elective to see if that's true." I smiled at him, and he smiled back and left.

When I checked, it was true; she said that his behavior was enough better that she'd be happy if it was that way every day.

This gives me some ideas for how to change things at my school which I'm mulling over now; I'll post about them eventually. But for now, I'm just glad that the situation's better for everyone involved.

(Image credit to Eye of Einstein)

A new level of personal.

A while ago, Rachel at Progressively Unnecessary asked how personal was too personal - as in, would you give students your cell phone number and allow them to text you. At the time, I said that I had a couple of students who had my cell phone number but just for setting up or rescheduling meetings (I mentored both).

As of today, that's going to change.

As of today, about 25 kids will have my cell phone number.

I'm taking those 25 kids on a field trip this Saturday and I want their parents to be able to get in touch with us during the day if needed, so I'm sending home my cell phone number. And while we're on the field trip on Saturday, I want those kids to be able to get in touch with me in case they get separated (we're going to a conference and people will be in a bunch of different places. Two other teachers are going too, but I'm leading the trip so I figure I'm the one whose contact info should go out).

I'm mildly nervous about this. They're all good kids and they're all (reasonably) trustworthy....but that doesn't mean they won't think it's exciting to have a teacher's number.

We'll see how it goes. I'm torn between not making a big deal out of it, you know, just being like, "So here's my number in case you need it," and between having the conversation about how I'm trusting them here and asking them not to abuse the information and keep it to themselves and use it only if needed and stuff. I'm leaning towards the former as a group, and then the latter if it becomes an issue with an individual student. Does that seem reasonable?

What a strange milestone in the life of a teacher - distributing your cell phone number. That was not something my grandmother dealt with when she taught high school English (though she did teach in her own community - plenty of her students knew exactly where she lived).

(Image credit to woodleywonderworks)

Worth the fear.

Allison commented on Wednesday's post that she'd be scared to hear what her kids would say on an evaluation of the class and of her as a teacher. And dude, I totally get that. It's terrifying, particularly the first time you do it. But I think the information you get is worth it.

I started having my kids evaluate me during my first year. They had six questions to answer, each one paired by what was going well and what could be better, for class overall, for themselves personally, and for me as a teacher. The first two sets....whatev. It was interesting to get the information because it helped me clarify if the kids and I were on the same page about the positives and negatives of class and of their own performances. Usually we were, and when we had a disconnect, I could generally figure out why, which again would help me refine how I explained things and the different types of activities I'd incorporate.

That last set though....whew. Well, honestly, the part about what I was doing well wasn't stressful. :) It's nice to hear what your kids think you're good at! But what I needed to do better on....the possible answers on that one scared the bejeezus out of me the first time. And the second. And the third. And really....every time. I always get a little nervous reading those, and if I'm having a bad day on the day that students do the evaluations, I don't read them till I'm feeling mentally and emotionally prepared for the possibility that they will write that I am a terrible teacher who is mean and unfair and cruel and ugly and stupid and fat and.....well, you know how your imagination can just explode. They've never written anything like that, though. I think they respect the fact that I'm asking, and appreciate the opportunity to express true concerns.

My first couple of years, I got a good chunk of comments about how I needed to work on yelling less, not getting so mad, some variation thereof. Every time, it bothered me. Kids get yelled at enough, at home, on the streets, in the mall...I didn't want that for them in school. At least not in my class. I started working on it.

It's been a process and some days go better than others, and I still get angry with kids on occasion - there's no way around that, at least not for me, when they do things like refer to another teacher as a douchebag and then walk out of the room instead of coming back to discuss the issue with me. (That was last Tuesday. Ohhhhhhh was I pissed.) But I really try not to yell. I try to discuss issues as calmly as possible, and when I am really angry and can't help showing my fury (hi last Tuesday!), then the kids know that I truly mean it and take it seriously.

I could have ignored the comments about the yelling, could have brushed them off, but that would have been disingenuous; I asked, I should listen to and care about the answers, and try to change. This last round, I don't think I had a single student list that as an issue.

Which sure doesn't make me perfect. Because every time, I have a couple that write something that makes me really kind of sad, either because I've screwed up royally with something or because I just don't get along super well with that particular kid. This round, I got one that said, "I feel like Ms. Teachin' does NOT care about me as a person and a student when she doesn't notice that something is wrong."

Knife. Heart. Stab. Twist. Ow.

Because I pride myself on my relationships; I pride myself on knowing my kids, reading their moods, and asking if they're okay when they seem off. They don't always want to tell me, but I think it's important that they know someone notices, and I'm usually rockin' at that. And this student....I failed her. Which hurt.

Thus yesterday I pulled her aside to ask her about that statement and apologize for not noticing, and a story gushed out of her about her mom and dad fighting over her brother being in trouble and possibly not graduating, and how scared she was because of her dad's history of violence, and what a hard time she'd had dealing with it. I listened, and nodded, and asked a few questions, and ended up sending her to see the counselor, and just felt bad that I hadn't seen that she was in this crisis.

But the thing is, if I hadn't had her do the evaluation, I never would have known she felt that way. And she never would have told me the story, because she's just not the kind of kid to seek out that conversation, and she might never have gone to see the counselor, because again, she's just not that kid. So I have to believe that me feeling bad temporarily is worth it in the long run because now I get to feel good that she DID find someone to talk to.

I'd encourage all teachers to incorporate your own student assessments/evaluations if you aren't already. It's scary. It's hard. It's sad. But it's so worth it.

(Image credit to billso)

Best note ever.

Yesterday in class, about five minutes before the end of the period, one of my boys (Drama King) very blatantly pulled out a piece of paper and started scribbling on it. He passed it to his neighbor, who dramatically scrawled back. Et cetera.

I ignored. I figured they were writing something ridiculous - something about liking pizza, or the Superbowl, or any number of other dumb things that 8th grade boys can write about. Didn't need to get involved. Until.

At the end of class, Drama King "accidentally" threw the note on the ground in front of me. "Oh no! I hope Ms. Teachin' doesn't notice our note!" he cracked.

"Seriously," Brilliant One, his partner-in-crime, agreed. "I really hope she doesn't pick it up and read it. That would be terrible."

"Yeah, way embarrassing. Boy, I hope she doesn't get it."

They were trying so hard; I had to play my part. So I picked up the note and read.

Drama King: Ms. Teachin' is a great teacher!

Brilliant One: I know! She's like one of the best teachers I've ever had!

Drama King: Me too! She's awesome!

Brilliant One: I'm so glad she's my teacher.

I kind of died. Because how cute is that?

Y'all, I know I say this, like, all the time.

But seriously?

We have the best damn jobs in the world.

(Image credit to parislemon)

I miss them too.

What do I do when I still have kids literally begging me, every single day, to come back to my class? What do I say?

I've been telling them that I didn't have the option to trade students, that if I could have, of course I would have traded for them...but it's not enough. And even though I think most of the teachers they went to are really good, solid teachers....the kids aren't connecting with them, at least not yet.

This morning, two of my boys came to ask if they could please come back to my class, PLEASE, they HATE their new teacher, they promise they'll work really hard. Because of their support needs and the school schedule, they can't come back. But they're also not making any growth in their new class because they're not doing a damn thing. One has been kicked out of class all week, in fact. (He and his parents have a meeting with the school Monday to address the issue and they asked me to attend. It'll probably be deeply uncomfortable but I said I'd do it, though I don't know what I'll say.) I saw one of them in the hall a bit later. As he trudged into his new class, he called over his shoulder to me, "Miss you..." :(

During lunch, a group of boys was walking down the hall using some rather school-inappropriate language; I called them out on it, and they apologized. Then one said, "Isn't it interesting, Ms. Teachin', how we all used to be so good and now that we don't have you anymore, we're acting so bad?" (They're in trouble in their electives.) I tossed back that they make their own choices and could still choose to be good, and that they damn well better start, but it still broke my heart a little. As I walked up the stairs, I heard them talking about how they missed the good learning environment in my room. Yes, actually in those words.

After school at a basketball game, several of my girls clustered around me. What are you doing in class, they wanted to know. I told them, and they seemed surprised. Oh, we're doing that too....but it's so boring in our class, I bet you'd make it fun. I shrugged it off, said that I'm sure plenty of kids find my class boring too, but they shook their heads and said that no, it would be more fun with me, it always used to be.

What do I say to them? What do I do?

Why I Teach.

Paul L. Martin has an absolutely gorgeous post up about why he is a teacher. You really, really, really need to go read it. Like, now. I'll wait.

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Good, right? Totally inspiring and maybe brought a few tears to your eyes? At least that's how it affected me.

Because....I totally agree with Paul.

I have hope. I do not believe in a lost cause. Yes, the world seems mired in darkness, students read less and less, and no one seems to know how to get things back on track. But I know my presence in the classroom is a blow against all that. The odds are overwhelming, and the learning I facilitate may not have any effect for a long time, but I believe in what I do...When I walk in that room, see my students, launch into the lesson, everything lifts. This is where I was born to be, pure and simple.

And that is why I know that if you do not feel that, the classroom is not for you. Sure, we can look at test scores, and successful schools, and effective administrators, but it all boils down to the teacher. Why are you a teacher? The answer to that question is everything.

And it is. It is absolutely everything. For you, for your students, for their future husbands and wives and employers and employees and children and everyone.

I thought I'd mentioned before that my school is an AVID school but I can't find a post in which I did that. Anyway, we are, and I think it's a fabulous program. If you don't know AVID, it's a program designed to support academically-middle kids from underrepresented groups (like first to attend college, kids from poverty, or kids from minority groups) in their quest to attend college. The kids have to want it for themselves; it can't be their parents, because that's not enough. You can learn more about it here.

Our AVID students are writing essays right now about their personal struggles and how AVID has helped them overcome those challenges to keep them on track to go to college and achieve their dreams. The AVID teacher had emailed the 8th grade Language Arts teachers to ask us for help with revisions if we had time, so today during my plan, I trotted on down to the AVID room to read a few essays.

Each piece was to start with a personal introduction, sort of a dedication, in which students thanked anyone whom they felt had been truly instrumental in their success. Kids thanked parents, sibling, uncles, and, of course, teachers. In two of the three essays I read, I was one of the people thanked. One was the Chatterbox, who thanked me for having always been there for her, no matter what, for more things than she could ever express. The other was a sweet girl who thanked me for teaching her to love reading and writing and for never giving up on her.

That. That is why I teach.

Oh, not for the thanks, not exactly, though of course that was wonderful (so nice to be appreciated). But for them.

For the kids who shout hellos to me every time I go to an event. For the students who say they hate reading, till they find the right book. For the poets who come in after school for extra help, just because. For the boys who eat lunch in my room every day and laugh and joke and compete for attention. For these beautiful, wonderful, talented, funny, smart, heartbroken, ridiculous, crazy, obnoxious, sad, dreamy, open, confused, angry, loving, hopeful children.

I teach for them. Each and every one of them. Nothing else could be worth it.

(Image credit to Q. Thomas Bower)

Make new friends, but keep the old....

So, I need some advice. I really want to maintain relationships with the kids I lost in the schedule shuffle, but I'm not sure how to do it with the ones who...well, who don't know how to do it themselves.

If a kid pops into my room before or after school or at lunch and plops himself down, well, then I know that he wants to stay friends and I can go from there. But some of them...I don't think they've ever had a teacher that they just hung out and chatted with.

The Antagonizer came to visit me after school today - twice. The first time, he wandered in, stayed for a few minutes, talked a little bit about his new teacher and how he thinks she's mean (which, honestly, she kinda is - I've never heard another teacher speak as rudely to students [and teachers, and administrators] as this woman), and then disappeared. Forty-five minutes later he was back, this time with a story about some guy who'd been yelling at his girlfriend outside the school, and how the Antagonizer and his friends had stood up for the girl.

Clearly he wants to keep up the relationship too, and I think it's good for him, but I'm not sure he'll continue doing this without some sort of encouragement (beyond my stopping to chat with him when he does come in, or saying hi in the halls), and I'm not sure how to do that exactly.

I'm thinking I might offer him a morning pass - a bunch of kids have permanent passes to come into my room in the mornings, and I get anywhere from five to ten every day. They like having someplace to go, especially when it's really cold outside.

I'd also like to let kids know that they can come have lunch in my room, so I thought I might post a sign with a list of days that my room is open for lunch and that they just need to tell me they want to come in so that I can come get them. Having it in the hall might help kids like my hugger from Tuesday (who stopped and hugged me again today) realize that they can come too.

Do those seem like reasonable ideas? Any other thoughts?

(Image credit to The ChainMaille Lady - get it? Silver and gold?)

Yay!

At 4:30 this morning, my eyes snapped open. I was clearly done sleeping for the night, despite not drifting off last night till after 11 and having tossed and turned with troubled dreams the previous night. I've been....nervous about this schedule change, to say the least. Today we implemented.

Y'all, I now love blocks. Love, love, LOVE blocks. 91 minutes in a row with one group of kids, time for everything that matters, everything that I value, the opportunity to get to know students so much more deeply....it's magical. Yes, it's only been one day, and yes, I can see where some challenges will come into play (hi, block 2! Boy, most of you sure do not much care for Language Arts, eh? We'll work on that), but overall, it's freakin' great.

I am still a little heartbroken about some of the kids I lost. I saw one of my favorites in the hallway during my plan and I told him he better start getting to his new class on time (he was habitually tardy for me, though he'd improved a lot as time passed) or I'd have to start harassing him again. He laughed and I told him that I was really sad I hadn't gotten him back in class. He said, "I know! I don't have you, or Mr. Social Studies, or Ms. Math....all new!" I pointed out that he still had a couple of teachers he knows, and he said, "Yeah, but I wanted you....you're like the funnest teacher in the whole school!" At that, I laughed and said that I was sure that a lot of students wouldn't agree with that, but, aw, heartwarming, right? (I decided to skip the conversation about grammatically correct superlatives - seemed rude to correct a compliment.)

And one of my girls, when she came to get her binder, stopped as she was leaving and said, "I just need a hug before I go." They're so cute. I will miss them all terribly - I hope they come to visit.

But overall, feeling much more positive. Thank you all for your support and sympathy as I've struggled through this. Onward to June!

(Image credit to dotbenjamin.)

Timing is everything.

One of my kids is in trouble.

He said something really dumb to another teacher and he was suspended for five days pending a threat assessment - funny how schools frown on students threatening violence to their instructors.

This is a kid who is generally pretty dang good for me. He does his homework, works in class, is usually polite.....we just work well together. I'm the exception - the teacher he threatened is the rule. He's a kid about whom I've been a little concerned with The Change as I'm probably the only teacher he likes.

Because of the suspension, he hadn't heard about the change until his threat assessment today. It came back low, and it's not going to go any further at this point, but his schedule will change immediately to remove him from that class. His only concern was if he could still be in my class.

For everyone else, the answer is a resounding "depends on what the computers do." For him, now, because the school's worried about him, because I'm his sole connection, because they want to make sure he doesn't deteriorate....for him, the answer is yes. He'll be hand-scheduled into it.

He chose the right time to do this; a few weeks later and he'd be in whatever class he was put in. At that point I'm not sure if they would have moved him back had he been placed elsewhere.

(Image credit to JDS303)

Change is in the air.

We told the students about the schedule change today.

We put the best possible spin on it, talking about how going to blocks is good for learning, how they'll have fewer transitions, how they'll get the same amount of learning time in each class but just grouped differently....

They are not happy. Not happy at all.

Some actually proposed striking - making signs and having a picket line. (Which is kind of awesome, and if they do it, rock on.)

A lot of them aren't particularly excited about the change to blocks - 90 minutes sounds awfully long to them (which I get - it IS a long time). But more, they're upset about the teacher change. Odds are some of them will get their exact same teachers, some will get some of the same and some new, and some will get entirely new. And they are not pleased.

I can't put a good spin on that side, not really, not if it's something you're upset about. It sucks to think that you'll lose those relationships that you've been building. And I acknowledged that. I told them that while I'm super excited about the blocks, because I do think having that chunk of time will be great, I'm unhappy about losing so many of them - that if I could, I would keep each and every one. But I can't, and I told them how sad I am about that.

The most positive thing I could say was that they'd potentially (not definitely - possibly) have the opportunity for a fresh start if they currently have a teacher that they don't really get along with. I said I was sure that some of them were really excited about the possibility of not having me anymore, and that was okay, but even if they end up with me again, they'd at least get the chance to have a fresh start in a fresh group of kids. To their credit, not one kid did any sort of fist pump and whispered "yesssssss" to that, which I thought awfully polite. :)

Actually, several of them broke my heart just a touch - they asked if I could make sure that I still had them. And while realistically I probably can (and will) for a handful, I certainly can't for all of them. It just sucks. There's no way around that.

We have two weeks left together now. Nine more class periods before the change. We'll get through our current unit and end with a celebration of our time together. In each class over the next two weeks, I'll be taking pictures. I want them each to get a class photo of their current group. It's important to remember what we've had. Important to honor it. Important to hold it in our hearts and cherish it. Yes, we'll move forward - but our past won't leave us and we'll keep it close.

(Image credit to David Reece)

PS Hi! Sorry I've been MIA - my computer broke (suddenly it didn't think it had a hard drive....) and I just got it back. Round of applause for the Apple Genius Bar!

Relationships make teaching worth it.

Today after school I was asked to speak to a group of student teachers about my experiences as one, and as a new teacher. A handful of us, maybe five total, bestowed our extensive wisdom on the young'uns.

We were given a few parameters for the discussion - what should they watch out for, what we remembered most, what we wished we'd known, what the best parts were. We all talked a lot, and I think I'll do another post with some of the specifics we included, but a lot of the conversation came down to one thing.

Relationships.

Build 'em. Keep 'em. Treasure 'em. The relationships are what make teaching worth it. They're why we bother. They're what matter. We all agreed.

As my school struggles with how to revamp our schedule to better serve our students, I hopewishpray that those in charge take some time, think back to what it's like to be a teacher, remember how much those relationships matter, and find a way to keep them.

Our teachers and our students deserve that.

(Image credit to lumaxart)

Bellwether.

Tracey at Walking the Dog posted a bit ago about how great the group dynamic is with her current students. (And they do sound delightful.) She ended her post with:

I'm curious though: how does that happen? How does one group develop characteristics different than another, even though the members of each are very similar? Where does a group dynamic come from? Not that I'm complaining, mind you.

I've thought about this a bit, and I have a theory. The group has a bellwether.

A bellwether is basically a leader - someone (or something) who is cutting edge, a trendsetter. The term comes from shepherds putting a bell around the neck of a ram leading a flock, so the flock could be heard before they could be seen.

Tracey's kids right now have a bellwether among them, and that person is a great kid. And because that great kid is a leader, all the other kids are following that student in that positive direction. It's a good situation to be in.

Last year, we had a bellwether in my core. Ours wasn't the positive influence that one might have hoped, though. He was suspected of (or had confirmed involvement in) a number of things, some of which included being a gang member who was actively recruiting; committing three different felonies (going back to fourth grade - FOURTH GRADE!); cutting school repeatedly; being sexually active; beating the crap out of a kid in the bathroom; jumping up on top of desks and running across them while screaming at a para.....the list goes on and on.

In classes, when a teacher gave instructions, kids would look at him to see what he was going to do. If he was doing the work, they would do the work. If he just sat, they just sat. If he started talking about how dumb it was....you get the picture.

For whatever reason, he decided he liked me and he liked my class. So in my room, he always did what he was supposed to and he'd actually harangue other kids into doing it too. "Whaddaya mean you don't have a pencil? That's so dumb. You gotta come to class with a pencil!" He'd shake his head as the unprepared kid would hunch down and frantically paw through a backpack. Or, "We started the warmup like an hour ago! You can't just sit there!" as the student in question would scramble to catch up. He'd even stay after school to do work that he was behind on (you miss a lot of work when you're hanging out in the park or having parties rather than coming to school). He had a pretty steady C for me, same in gym - Fs in everything else.

Around February, his schedule was changed. An issue of him getting the appropriate services. (Sounds so familiar....) He was moved out of my class. By the end of the year, he failed every single class. I was sorry to lose him, and not just because he was actually fairly successful in my class. As that bellwether, he'd had a lot of influence on the other students who were so desperate for his approval. When he left, it took us a good couple months to get back to the point where everyone did what they needed to do - at first, they were all just terribly confused.

One kid can change everything. It's nice when they start out as a good influence, but you at least gotta figure out who that one kid is and get them on your side.

Student Connections Outside of the Classroom

I ran into a friend at the neighborhood farmer's market this morning. She asked how my year was going.

I paused. "Overall, good," I said, "but....it's a little overwhelming at times."

She nodded. "I saw your Facebook post a few weeks ago about how tired you are."

A few weeks ago was the last time I updated there. I'm so busy I don't have time for Facebook anymore (which, really, isn't all that bad). I'm still reading blogs, because I love them and they rejuvenate me, but this year is just tough. New curriculum, new teaching format, new way of working with special education, new kids (though not all - it's fabulous to have a bunch of kids I already know), new school-wide schedule....ack. It's hard.

Last Wednesday, I was tired. TIIIIIIIIIRED. I wanted nothing more at the end of the day than to go home and not even think about school till the next morning. But two students had asked me to go to the football game, and so I dragged myself up to the school we were playing and cheered for our guys.

Y'all, it was so worth it.

The kids were SO excited to see me. The ones who had asked me to come were so proud that I'd shown up and the others were so delighted to have a teacher there cheering them on. They bragged about their plays, dissected the other team's weaknesses, gave credit to teammates who'd done something well....it was awesome. Plus I got to meet three sets of parents I'd never met or spoken to before, including the family of a boy I had two years ago as well as this year. It was nice to see how much they love their kids and how proud they are when the kids do well, especially if it's a kid who doesn't always do that well in my content. The next day, I had kids I barely know coming up to me and commenting on me being there.

This is not sports-exclusive. Same thing happened last year at the band concerts I attended.

I know a lot of people attend events anyway, and I know all of us are freakin' exhausted at the end of the day, but I just wanted to encourage everyone to go to a game here, a concert there. It's totally, totally worth it for the connections to the kids and the families.

(Photo credit to Jimmy MacDonald)