Clarity in the classroom.

So. Why they bought in after that day in a way that felt distinctly different. Why they surrounded me and hugged me repeatedly on the last day of school. Why one sweet girl brought me a cake. Why Slick spent his whole first day of summer vacation helping me move my classroom.

I’m going to talk about me with this because I believe that I’m the determining factor in my classroom; I’m the leader and the responsibility for creating this kind of community rests with me. Could I have done it without my students’ full involvement? Absolutely not. But it would never have happened without mine, and they buy in (or don’t) because of me.

I think…it was a lot of things. I was honest. I told them that it hurts to see a kid deteriorate and that I wish I could change things. I was protective of them, explaining that makes me angry when adults speak badly about students. I was vulnerable, sharing with them that it’s hard to not feel like I should give even more when I watch these types of movies. I listened to their ideas, going against my usual seminar rules to answer their questions at the end. I related to them, because I love the movie and so did they. I made it a safe space in which they could talk about their fears and hopes and experiences (like Smiley did another day after school). I honored their ideas by letting them talk about whatever they wanted that connected to the movie without me stepping in.

Every single one of those is an attitude I can, and I try to, express every day. But it doesn’t always happen, and that day it did. It all clicked, shifted into clarity all of a sudden like on a trip to the eye doctor as he fiddles with that strange sight machine (better on one…or two? Three…or four?), and our newfound vision lasted for the rest of the year.

I hope we can do it again next year.

(Photo credit to cheetah100)

Freedom Writers Socratic Seminar

When I said on Thursday I’d finish my post about how my class and I came together tomorrow, I obviously meant Monday. Right? Right.

This actually ties back to a previous post about the movie Freedom Writers. I’d mentioned that I’d shown my kids the movie and they’d been loving it, and that I was planning to finish with a Socratic seminar about the movie. Which I did. I gave them a little seminar pre-planner, nothing extensive, just to get them to think about it a bit and so they’d hopefully have something to say during the seminar – favorite part, least favorite part, anything they didn’t understand, and lessons they could take from the movie to apply to writing, school and life.

For the seminar itself, we started with everyone going around the circle and saying one word that connected to the movie in some way for them (which was so effective as an opening, by the way – I got the idea from a colleague and it rocked!), and then they started talking. We’ve done Socratic seminars before, though not too often, and they enjoy the process, but they’re still figuring it out, so I do get nervous about the whole thing. It’s that whole student-centered classroom in which I have to give up all control – it’s terrifying! But as per usual, they were rock stars and blew me away with their level of conversation and critical thinking about the movie and its issues.

The thing with seminars is they always want my opinion too. I like to flatter myself that it’s because they’re actually interested in what I think, but the odds are good that really they just want to listen to me ramble on rather than have to talk themselves – it’s easier.

And I don’t participate in seminars, as they know, but they were really insistent this time.

And I was nervous about how they would interpret Gruwell’s seventeen jobs to pay for everything in the world for her students.

And I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to screw over their future teachers by leaving my kids with an expectation that a teacher can only be good by giving up everything personal to be a super teacher.

And so I broke my seminar rule about not talking, and I told them that at the end, I would give them five minutes and they could ask me anything they wanted about the movie and I would answer their questions.

And I did. My favorite part? The part where Gruwell is talking to one of her students who had stopped showing up to class when his brother was convicted for a crime he didn’t commit, and then when he does come back, he says all he deserves is an F. A lot of my kids like it too because she says his attitude is a big fuck you to her and his classmates, and she also uses the word balls, and sixth graders love to hear cursing (so taboo!), so they giggled when I said that, but I explained why I like it. As a teacher, I said, it’s so hard when you see a kid falling apart and you are helpless to stop it. You try you talk to them, but you don’t always get through. I like this part, I said, because you can tell he hears her – you can tell she gets through.

(Is that moment Hollywoodized? Absolutely, and I didn’t address this with my kids – it wasn’t the time for it. But I still believe that if you have a relationship with a kid, even if his life is totally destroyed by forces outside your control, you can remind them that not everything is terrible and he can still overcome. And I have to believe that people can overcome disasters, because otherwise, many of my kids will not make it. They experience so much trauma in their lives that I have to believe in minor miracles because otherwise I’d just sit at home and cry all day every day.)

They nodded thoughtfully. Least favorite part, they asked? Easy. The way some of the other teachers talk about the kids – calling them thugs and criminals (I know some people think that part was overblown and heavy handed, and maybe it was for a movie, but I’ve heard some colleagues use those terms about my kids). I went on. When Ms. G. says to another teacher that he can’t teach them because he doesn’t even like them, and he responds by asking what that has to do with teaching…oh, that part breaks my heart, I said. Liking your students has everything to do with teaching. And then I took the opportunity to be vulnerable to them.

“I think you know I love you,” I said to them, and some nodded while some just listened. “I want what’s best for you. I want you to have every opportunity to be whatever you want to be, just like Ms. G. wanted for her kids. But teaching like she did…it’s not realistic. She taught for four years and she quit. I don’t want to quit after four years – I want to teach forever. So I can’t have three jobs. I wouldn’t be a good teacher if I was personally miserable, which I would be if I lived like her. She got divorced over it.”

I paused and looked at them. Socratic seminars offer a different perspective – sitting in the group, at their level, rather than standing at the front, and it felt so appropriate for this conversation. I continued, “Every teacher I know spends their own money on the classroom. You know that. But we can’t do it like she does, because we don’t want to only be there for one group of kids and then leave. We’re in it for the long haul. So I love this movie, but I don’t like that part of it either.”

After that day, five weeks or so before the end of the year, they were with me. Pretty much every moment of every class, they were with me with whatever we did, on my side, in our lessons, in it together.

I’ll talk about why I think that was tomorrow (real tomorrow! Not fake four-days-from-now tomorrow).

(Photo credit to 9 TM)

Showing them they matter.

I gave my kids their cards today, and composition notebooks a la Freedom Writers. They all thanked me profusely. Many taped or stapled their notes into their new journals, while others said they were going to put theirs up in their rooms. Some hugged me. A few cried.

I love my job.

Can I do that?

We finished watching Freedom Writers on Monday, but because we got a surprise snowstorm, attendance was low, so I’ve been playing the end of the movie at lunch for the kids who were gone.

The movie ends at the close of sophomore year, when the students find out that they’re going to stay together for junior and senior year too, and will have Ms. Gruwell as a teacher again. It’s a triumphant moment for them, and very sweet to watch because they’re all so excited. You feel how much they love her, and how much they love each other. It's really nice.

After the movie ended and I turned the lights back on, a student turned to me. “Can YOU do that?”

“Can I do what?”

“Go with us to seventh grade.”

I explained that my school doesn’t work that way, that though I’d love to, it’s just not how we do things. There would have to be an opening, and right now there isn’t one. He nodded, and another student asked me something else, and the moment passed. But.

Not everyone would feel that way, I know that. I’m sure plenty of my students will be delighted to move on to a new teacher and not have to deal with my temper and standards. But for the rest of the day, I felt a little crystal of joy in everything I did.

Freedom writing.

I read a post on Life at the Morton School that made me think, especially because of the timing. It’s about the book The Freedom Writers Diary and the movie Freedom Writers, and Miss Eyre is passionate in her reasons for disliking both (the movie much more). Her biggest issue, and one that I totally agree with, is that Gruwell’s process isn’t sustainable. She managed it for four years, and then she left, because how could you possibly keep up that kind of pace? Working three jobs so that you can fund your classroom as fully as you want – I could sure find things to do with that kind of money, but I sure would be unpleasant to be around if I was working that many hours.

I, however, unlike Miss Eyre and unlike several other teachers I’ve seen post about teacher movies, looooooove the genre. I love watching the passion those teachers show, I love watching the kids engage, I love the inspiration I take from the movies. I don’t take them as a message that if I don’t give up my entire life to my students, I’m not good enough. I take them as a sugary Hollywoodized version of education, and you have to find a way to view them through…..whatever the opposite of rose-colored glasses is. What’s across from pink on a color wheel? Green, maybe? Perhaps this is an indication of my youth and inexperience as a teacher, and frankly I’ve always been quite the idealist, but it’s how I feel, at least at this point in my career. I watch teacher movies to be inspired, rather than to see a teacher call his students skanks to their faces, because I see enough crappy stuff every day and I’d rather focus on the positive for my entertainment needs.

Freedom Writers is a movie that I saw in the theatres and I loved it. I bought the book because I was interested in getting a more complete sense of the stories, and I loved it too. Like Miss Eyre commented, the stories ARE extraordinarily engaging and moving, and my kids love them too.

I use excerpts from the book in class as models for personal narratives and responses to literature, because the kids find them fascinating and they’re very nicely done. This year, I also used it when I had an incident with a student being hit repeatedly and no one reporting it – we used two essays to discuss why snitching and being a rat (as my kids refer to it) could actually be important and even save a life someday. I can’t say that they all connected to that lesson, but I had a student later report something that she’d witnessed, and when she did so, she said she’d decided to come to me because of what we’d read that day. So yay! Got through to at least one!

Anyway. For the first time this year, I’m also showing the movie – we’re actually finishing it tomorrow. I’m doing it for a few reasons. First, we just finished writing personal narratives. My kids worked their little butts off and did a simply phenomenal job, and I am so, so pleased with their effort, so it’s a reward. They’re loving it, too, though they are much more interested in the parts with the students than with the adults (which is true for me too). Every time I have to stop it, because, y’know, the bell is about to ring or something crazy like that, they gasp and beg for more. It’s cute.

It also allows class time for the students who aren’t done to complete their writing – many of my kids, particularly the ones who get behind in class and don’t get their work done, just won’t come in before or after school to finish assignments. Am I teaching them a bad habit, that they don’t have to take responsibility for their work because the teacher will make it easy for them to get it done anyway? Maybe – and that’s a post for another day. But this way, they do get it done, and as teaching Language Arts is my primary goal, that’s where I focus.

Watching the movie during class gives me the opportunity to grade some of their narratives. We’re spending two and a half days watching – each full day I can get about one class worth graded. Since each long essay we write takes me anywhere from 16 to 24 hours to grade thoroughly, this means I can get their work graded in a more timely fashion and without spending quite as many evenings and weekends rockin’ out to sixth grade handwriting. Finally, I believe the movie does have lessons to offer about life, school, and writing, and we’ll discuss those lessons at the end. Socratic seminar, I’m thinking.

But I’m a little nervous about one part of that discussion – the part about how totally hardcore and insanely dedicated Erin Gruwell is. I’m a little worried that my students will…I don’t know, judge me for only having the one job, and spending my evenings not selling bras to buy them dinner at a fancy restaurant. I’m pretty sure they know I’m dedicated – they know I love them and work ridiculously hard for them, and hopefully they will understand that the movie, though based on reality, still isn’t actually realistic, because Gruwell’s career wasn’t realistic. We’ll have to see how that goes.

Why would you call your students skanks?

A few days ago I went to see the French movie The Class (Entre Les Murs).  Spring break!  What better time to watch a movie about an urban school - with subtitles, no less?  I went solely for the teacher-y aspect of it - though I enjoy independent films, I don't see a ton of foreign films, mostly because I simply don't have time.  But spring break, free time, a non-teacher friend who wanted to see it too....seemed a perfect combination.  Not so much.  

The movie clearly isn't intended to be inspirational; rather, I THINK it's intended to be a realistic portrayal of the Western public educational system.  I say think, because frankly I hope it's not.  I hope it's intended to show the inadequacies of some teachers in the system, but that those teachers are the exception rather than the rule.  But, um, based on the movie?  Yeah, nothing in it actually supports my ideal interpretation.  

The movie follows a fourth-year teacher, M. Marin, and his French class (but French like English classes here are about literature and writing as well as the English language, not just the language.  Since, y'know, it's in Paris.  And the students all speak French already.  Anyway) in a Parisian high school.  The kids are around 8th grade and very diverse - much like an urban American school, but with different nationalities.  M. Marin clearly cares about his students and their education, but is decidely....imperfect.  

I spent the whole movie cringing - the way teachers complained about their students, the way students were allowed to speak to each other with complete disrespect and few consequences, the insistences the teachers made that they were above the rules the students had to follow, the incredibly inappropriate interactions between teachers and students (including the one from the title of my post), the utter lack of consequences for the teachers....it killed me. Caring about your kids only goes so far when everything else has fallen apart.  

About a third of the way through, I leaned over to my friend and asked him if he found M. Marin sympathetic.  He said yeah right away, then stopped to think about it, and amended his response to he didn't know.  When we talked about the movie after, he said he thought the movie was trying to show what education is actually like.  And that makes me want to throw up.  

I don't want this to be real.  This can't be real.  This can't be an accurate vision of what most teachers and most schools are like, because if it is....if it is, we're failing our students worse than I realized, and that breaks my heart.