the mississippi atlas

2008-04-16T23:51:00.001-05:00

My Mississippi Teacher Corps Experience

At this point, though admittedly close to the events in question, I’d have to consider my Mississippi Teacher Corps experience to be largely a failure. I have come to this conclusion after about two years of thought, even though writing it now I feel as if I am voicing a rash, rush judgment.

I entered MTC with the highest of hopes. I was innocently idealistic and envisioned myself – as much as I tried not to – fulfilling the role of the Hollywood-scripted teacher, inspiring the apathetic masses and shaping generations. I suppose we all believed in this myth to a degree, otherwise we would not have signed up to teach.

The day I found out I had been admitted to MTC, I was nearly as excited as the day I got into college. I told my friends, “I am set for life,” meaning that I thought by going through MTC I would be trained in a profession I could always fall back on, whether I ended up absolutely loving teaching or seeing it as something to do post-midlife crisis. By signing up for MTC I was not only fulfilling what I really wanted to do – make a difference, help kids, help my country, etc. – but also planning for my future by receiving training in a profession. A masters in education would grant my liberal arts undergraduate degree some structure, would make it seem a little more solid.

Upon arriving in Mississippi I was first struck by my peers who were entering the program. Though I had been told that MTC was the “most competitive” alternate-route teaching program in the country, I was shocked to find that my comrades did not live up to my high expectations of them. Part of the reason I joined Teacher Corps was because I wanted to be part of an active community that strived to ask big questions, make big changes, and work together. I commonly stumbled upon petty bickering, undeserved arrogance, and shortsightedness. In our academic classes people seemed more bent on critiquing systems rather than finding workable solutions, one of my pet-peeves about volunteer, charity, and nonprofit organizations with which I have been involved (not to mention the educational field in general). This should not take away from the numerous amazing individuals I met through MTC; it was that handful of folks that made the program worthwhile for me. Perhaps not surprisingly, the majority of the individuals I found unappealing or troublesome dropped out of the program, either quickly (within a few weeks) or by the end of the first year. I did not expect every member of MTC to be incredibly interesting, intelligent, or inspiring, but the way the program was advertised made it seem that its members were far better than mediocre, which is what I commonly encountered in many members of my MTC class and the one preceding it: stunning mediocrity.

The “academic” portions of the MTC program also left much to be desired. I came in thinking that the graduate coursework at Ole Miss would be challenging and a welcome intellectual respite from the weekly grind of teaching. I was sadly mistaken. Almost all of my classes were incredibly dull and produced about as much intellectual stimulation as the prime-time lineup on the Fox television network. My experiences in the classrooms of Guyton Hall left a bitter taste in my mouth about the University of Mississippi School of Education specifically and education graduate programs in general.

That said, the heart of MTC is not ones classmates, nor is it ones academic work, it is the classroom. And I have had some amazing times in the classroom over the past two years, many of which I hope have been chronicled in this blog and other MTC assignments. I have truly enjoyed hanging out with my students and being a part of their lives, even if I have not enjoyed being a teacher. I am sure I will keep in touch with many of my students for years and decades to come.

The training I received from MTC which prepared me to enter the classroom was solid. I learned how to present academic topics, check for student understanding, manage the behavior of individual students (if not the class as a whole), complete the paperwork associated with teaching, and deal with my administration and peers. The one main problem was that I was never prepared for the most major problem teachers in under-performing schools face. It was never addressed in my summer classes or mentioned as one of the major problems in teaching in either MTC or Teach for America’s recruiting materials. Even some older members of Teacher Corps (including second years, MTC instructors, and MTC administrators who had been members of the program previously) did not adequately warn me about it. Maybe it was assumed that I would be versed in this most horrible of problems, this steepest of hills, this tallest of hurdles, but I was not. I had no idea about the plague of student apathy.

The way MTC and TFA present their programs in recruiting materials, I believed my work teaching in a poor, underperforming school would be akin to driving into Mogadishu in 1993 atop an United Nations truck filled with rice. Sinewy, dust-covered black arms would reach up to me as I stood atop the truck, handing out what I could as quickly as I could. “Education! Education!” they would call. I’d be there to give it to them, and they’d greedily claim it, immersing themselves in it as Robinson Crusoe would dig into a steak dinner.

Alas, I was mistaken.

And there’s the rub: one cannot help those who do not want to be helped. It is a simple fact of life which is also a simple fact of teaching. Because of student apathy (not to mention the apathy of their parents and the greater community), I was unable to accomplish my goals in the classroom.

But this failure – and my greater dissatisfaction with my Teacher Corps experience – is the fault of only one person: me. More than anything, I failed to fully embrace Mississippi as my home and community. I was constantly being tugged at by concerns elsewhere. My family, which was one thousand, four hundred-and-fifty miles away. My friends, who were in some cases ten thousand miles away. Other intellectual interests, particularly what I could be spending my time exploring. Other professional interests. and the thoughts of what I could be doing instead of teaching.

So, Ben, that's all I have for now. I'm sure there's more, but I am tired and I'm going to bed. Sorry, buddy.

2008-03-12T21:20:00.003-05:00

"Mississippi Goddam" - Nina Simone (1963)

The name of this tune is Mississippi Goddam
And I mean every word of it

Alabama's gotten me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam

Alabama's gotten me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam

Can't you see it
Can't you feel it
It's all in the air
I can't stand the pressure much longer
Somebody say a prayer

Alabama's gotten me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam

This is a show tune
But the show hasn't been written for it, yet

Hound dogs on my trail
School children sitting in jail
Black cat cross my path
I think every day's gonna be my last

Lord have mercy on this land of mine
We all gonna get it in due time
I don't belong here
I don't belong there
I've even stopped believing in prayer

Don't tell me
I tell you
Me and my people just about due
I've been there so I know
They keep on saying "Go slow!"

But that's just the trouble
"do it slow"
Washing the windows
"do it slow"
Picking the cotton
"do it slow"
You're just plain rotten
"do it slow"
You're too damn lazy
"do it slow"
The thinking's crazy
"do it slow"
Where am I going
What am I doing
I don't know
I don't know

Just try to do your very best
Stand up be counted with all the rest
For everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam

I made you thought I was kiddin' didn't we

Picket lines
School boycotts
They try to say it's a communist plot
All I want is equality
for my sister my brother my people and me

Yes you lied to me all these years
You told me to wash and clean my ears
And talk real fine just like a lady
And you'd stop calling me Sister Sadie

Oh but this whole country is full of lies
You're all gonna die and die like flies
I don't trust you any more
You keep on saying "Go slow!"
"Go slow!"

But that's just the trouble
"do it slow"
Desegregation
"do it slow"
Mass participation
"do it slow"
Reunification
"do it slow"
Do things gradually
"do it slow"
But bring more tragedy
"do it slow"
Why don't you see it
Why don't you feel it
I don't know
I don't know

You don't have to live next to me
Just give me my equality
Everybody knows about Mississippi
Everybody knows about Alabama
Everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam

2008-03-10T12:07:00.002-05:00

RHS' spring break is next week. Thank God. If I stayed a teacher for much longer, I think it might just kill me. I'd have a heart attack at age 24, keel over, and die. I am only exaggerating slightly.

For the first half of spring break I will be hanging around my place, I hope reading a bunch (I'm only about 160 pages through Lonesome Dove and it'd be great to finish it over break). I've actually done a poor job reading these past two years, I should have surrounded myself more with Southern literature rather than merely reading whatever struck my fancy. I have read a bunch of Southern lit while in Mississippi, but if I really buried myself under a pile of Faulkner, etc. my experience here would have been much more complete.

(As an aside: something I am noticing as I write this is that my writing has worsened over the past two years because I am out of practice. I've not had to write a real academic paper since I graduated from college and I am now having trouble thinking of simple synonyms to use. I'm really looking forward to getting back to a position where I can use my brain more fully.)

I was hoping to go north to check out a school for next year, but the Professor has yet to email me back, so that probably won't work out. Maybe I'll take a day trip or two, there are a couple of Civil War battlefields in the immediate vicinity that I'd really like to see before I leave Mississippi.

The latter half of the week my mother is coming to visit, so I'll show her around some of my favorite spots in Mississippi. This will definitely be a time for me to rest and recharge, though I hope not much energy will be needed for the last two months of school given that we'll just be preparing for the state test, taking the test, and then hanging out (read: watching movies) until the end of the school year. From here on out, I am hoping that it's all like running downhill...

2008-02-11T21:57:00.001-06:00

I have been wondering recently whether Teacher Corps, Teach for America, the NYC Teaching Fellows, and other similar programs actually fail at one of their main goals - that is, placing more "quality" teachers in the classroom - because they scare away those who would otherwise consider teaching as a lifelong profession by placing them in exceedingly difficult situations.

As has been much discussed in this forum, my Teacher Corps class has lost about a third of the original 32 members of our class. I believe that the majority of these have not only left the Corps, but have also left Mississippi and teaching altogether. From talking to many of my classmates that remain, it seems that most will be leaving the teaching profession after this year. Given this exceptionally high turnover, I wonder if Teacher Corps is doing the educational world a long-term disservice by driving (Corps-proclaimed) "high quality" teachers out of the classroom before their careers have truly begun. To be clear: I am not saying that this fact - and I do believe it is a fact - outweighs the positive accomplishments of Teacher Corps, its leaders, and its members. What I am saying is that perhaps it is time for us to reconsider the way Teacher Corps goes about achieving its organizational goals. How can we reshape the program to better serve the students of Mississippi and the Corps members who arrive in this state fully dedicated to helping them?

The best proposal I have heard tossed around - never fully annunciated or explored, mind you - is the idea of opening a Teacher Corps Charter/Magnet School. I think the first place I heard this mentioned was by Ben Guest, and I probably immediately dismissed it as a pipe dream at the time. Too many logistical and monetary issues. Legislature wouldn't like it. It wouldn't fulfill Teacher Corps' goals. Etc.

But given the way the program is going right now, I don't see any reason not to try opening a Teacher Corps Preparatory School.

The advantages would be numerous. To begin with, the school could control the raw product, that is, the students who are admitted. I am not suggesting that it should only admit the best students, but rather those with the most promise of improvement. Taking a student who was going to attend Vanderbilt and getting them into the University of Chicago is not that great of an achievement for a teacher; the talent probably carried the student. Taking a student who was headed to a GED and no college and convincing them to attend a four-year school is an exceptional achievement for a teacher and a school, a theoretical Teacher Corps Prep should keep that premise in mind.

Another huge plus would be the near-guaranteed administrative consistency and competence. I have witnessed many of my peers - both those in MTC and teachers in general - have been sent running for the hills after a year or semester spent with a horrendous administration. Even if I'd not already made alternate plans for my next year, even if I wanted to remain teaching in Mississippi, there would be no way I'd continue at my current high school if the administration remained the same next year. A solid administration could inspire both teachers and students and would significantly contribute to a drastically improved retention rate amongst teachers.

Innovative administrative thought could also be utilized in designing a new school, both physically and ideologically. Given the opportunity, Dr. Mullins, Dr. Bounds, and the leaders of the Barksdale institute would have a field day designing an improved secondary school environment. Curriculum could be redesigned to align more with national rather than state or regional standards. The school could be a community center rather than a building only used from 7:00 am until 4:00 pm. With Teacher Corps members manning the controls, there's no limit to the number of innovative projects that would thrive at the school. Additionally, the intellectually-based extra-curricular interests of Teacher Corps members would be more likely fulfilled by their job; I imagine a community garden, forums for artistic exploration, outdoor education. I imagine a place where parental involvement would be all-but mandated through a variety of innovative tactics. I imagine partnerships with the other wonderful organizations trying to transform Mississippi: The Sunflower County Freedom Project, the William Winter Institute, Teach for America, the Barksdale Institute. I imagine a center for a community that will be invigorated by higher demands and a school faculty that will be inspired and challenged by the community they serve.

The school would still be semi-public so that it could qualify for state funds. It would still serve a "critical needs" community to qualify for federal funds and fulfill the most important facet of Teacher Corps' mission. Perhaps most importantly for the growth of the program in general, the school wouldn't scare promising teachers away, but would foster their growth into life-long educators and eventually make students and teachers alike into leaders in education, community, and society.

2008-01-15T20:46:00.000-06:00

Ten Goals for Spring Semester, 2008.

Continue to foster relationships with my students that will put them on a better life course than when they first met me.
Put RK (a student) on the path to getting into one of this country’s top colleges.
Avoid my principal as much as possible, for the sake of my health and his.
Place The Autobiography of Malcolm X in the hands of at least one student.
Get my all of my college-bound students to lay out a plan for college admissions.
See more of Mississippi before I leave.
Get lost driving around the Delta.
Drive down the Natchez Trace at least once more.
Embarrass as many RHS baseball players as possible while announcing home games.
Be more patient in the classroom with my students and with myself.

2008-01-15T20:34:00.000-06:00

I have recently developed the habit of skimming the front page of cnn.com a couple of times every day. I do this not to get my news (I rely on other sources for numerous reasons), but rather to see what the good folks over in Ted Turner-land deem to be newsworthy. As those of you who know me can probably tell: I read it for the unintentional comedy. What percentage of front-page stories of America’s most watched news network will be about a celebrity’s new hairstyle (or a celebrity’s baby’s new hairstyle)? What vaguely attractive white woman is missing this week? What story has the Bush Administration’s press wing spoon fed Wolf Blitzer? What new negative adjectives can President Bush come up with to describe Iran?

I’ve also noticed that a good 97% of the stories dealing with education on cnn.com have one focus: teacher-student sexual relationships. Given the sensationalist leanings of the network, this is not surprising, but I fear that CNN is telling Billie Sue in Peoria that this trend of teachers preying on young men and women is the major problem with the American education system, as opposed to anything truly substantial like quality of instruction, student apathy, administrative idiocy, or parental involvement.

From speaking with peers in MTC, it seems that most teacher-student sexual relationships in Mississippi are found in the Delta. I have heard numerous stories and there’s always that hallmark tale (semi-legend?) about one high school basketball coach near Greenwood or Greenville, I forget which. It’s easy to see how these stories spread, regardless of their validity, not only because they are sensational but also because they are plausible. The stories of teachers hitting on students when I was attending high school would spread rapidly and die just as quickly, as most were seen as rumors so ridiculous that they merited no discussion or consideration (even by a bunch of teenagers). However, rumors down here seem to have more validity because the history of such things happening (see Michael Johnson’s In the Deep Heart’s Core). I have witnessed numerous interactions that could lead me to believe such stories.

A handful of young girls at my school call our assistant principal their “daddy.” When I threaten them with a visit to his office, they ask me to send them because they know he’ll make them do nothing and they can hang out in his office nearly all day while avoiding class. He basically has a harem of five or ten girls. I’ve never heard any rumors or seen anything inappropriate with my own eyes, but would not be surprised if I heard or saw something. I believe that the assistant principal is trying to be a caring father-figure to many of these girls, but it is easy to see him crossing over into another kinship cliché: the dirty uncle.

The young, attractive deputy sheriff assigned to RHS also shamelessly flirts with girls at the school. Numerous male students at the school have lamented this fact, usually suggesting the deputy is attracting attention they wish was directed toward them. Again, I’ve never heard rumors of anything specific, but I’d not be that surprised if I did. The deputy’s friendship with the assistant principal (the deputy is basically the assistant principal’s minion) adds to these speculations around the school.

At the same time, I can empathize with the deputy and the assistant principal if their hearts are truly in the right place. I have given my telephone number to many of my students and have had phone conversations with a number of them. The original intent of this was so that students had me to turn to if there was a crisis situation and so that they could ask pressing academic questions. Students call rarely; I’ve not really gotten any crisis calls and I have fielded numerous academic questions, but the most common call is “Hey Mr. E, how are you?” One of my favorite students always calls on holidays and if I miss a day of school to check up on me. I’ve been told by some older teachers that having such conversations may be a bad idea, it may open the door to allow people to think certain things, etc. I am probably ignorant, but this is something I almost totally ignore. If I cannot carry on a mentoring relationship with students as well as an academic relationship, (what I feel is) the most important part of my job dies. I didn’t become a teacher to douse my students with information about seemingly-arcane academic topics, I became a teacher to help change my students lives for the better, whatever route I must take.

2007-11-13T15:20:00.001-06:00

The best courses I have taken in Teacher Corps are those taught by Professor Mullins. The main reason is because they are the only intellectually stimulating courses I’ve encountered at the School of Education. Professor Mullins loads his lectures with allusions to history and politics, two of the topics that attracted me to Mississippi in the first place. When I am sitting in Professor Mullins’ class I feel like I am challenging my brain, which to me should be the primary goal of all education. I even feel open to asking vaguely odd questions, even if they make me seem like an idiot/bigot in his eyes, which I am sure I did with a certain question I posed in our most recent class.

Beyond providing intellectual stimulation, Professor Mullins’ class also allows me to center myself in that it forces me to pull away from the issues I am currently experiencing at school and re-focus on the original reasons I joined the Teacher Corps. Along with everything else, Professor Mullins is continually inspiring.

However, the most interesting single class I’ve attended as a Teacher Corps member was actually part of my second-least favorite Teacher Corps class, Strategies for Teaching English. Our teacher actually brought in her sister, a specialist in teaching reading, to address the class. Again, I think this helped me a little in the classroom, but I was more fascinated by the intellectual side of it and saw it as a possibility of what a master’s program in education could be: an academic study of how people learn best and what we as teachers can do to address those varied learning styles. It was one of the most interesting hours I’ve spent since coming to Mississippi, and given all the experiences I’ve had, that’s saying a lot.

2007-10-11T09:58:00.000-05:00

I don't know exactly how we got on the topic (which probably says something about how I run my class), but about a week ago one of my classes began discussing their families' specific financial situations. Actually, now that I think about it, it probably stemmed from the discussion we were having on how difficult it was for some immigrants to make a living with employments in urban factories.

Either way, I was shocked when the kids started rattling off how much their parents pay for certain monthly costs such as utilities, insurance, and rent. "Well my momma gotta pay all this. She got a car note, insurance, telephone, tv, cell phone, internet, rent, then she gotta feed me and my brothers and sisters... That's why she got three jobs." A few moments later, they started tallying: "well that car note gotta be about 200 a month, then you got rent at about 600, and insurance on top o' that..."

Since moving down here I've become aware of what parents have to do financially to keep their families afloat. I know about the loan sharks and credit officers and bill collectors. I realize that the majority of my kids have parents who are working long, hard hours, many times at more than one job. I realize how hard it is for many of these families.

What I did not realize is the degree to which my students are aware of their families' own financial situations. Perhaps it was because of my class (upper middle) or my ignorance (extensive), but I never knew what my parents were paying each month, and I never really had an idea how much money my father brought home each month. In fact, the thought never really crossed my mind; I knew we were about as wealthy as all my friends' families, perhaps a little wealthier when I got to high school. We weren't vacationing in Tahiti, but we were certainly living very comfortably.

Alternatively, most of my students, particularly the poorer ones, seem to know everything about their families' finances are concerned. What I began to wonder about this is how that knowledge transfers into an understanding of basic necessities and a measure of the value of money and hard work. Though they recognize where the money comes from, they don't seem to 'value' money that much (admittedly, does any teenager?) in the sense that they have no problem making frivolous purchases or dismissing a possible cost by claiming, "oh, my momma's gonna pay for that." I don't really know what this means, but I am fascinated by the disconnect, which I think I would see more in the rich kids I grew up with rather than my students.

2007-10-07T19:50:00.000-05:00

October.

Ben Guest, MTC program director, has always claimed that October is the toughest month for first-year teachers. I seemed to have a pretty good October last year and came to find that January and February were my most difficult months. I hope all the first years can make it through October without incident this year, and enjoy a much better winter than I did.

There are certainly major differences in the way a teacher is treated around their school if they already have a year under their belt. My fellow teachers have not altered the way they treat me, thought I would not really know because I have stayed happily ignorant of the RHS gossip-mill. I have been traditionally regarded with inactive disinterest from my peers; they seem to have realized, perhaps even before I did, that I was not going to be in teaching or in Mississippi for the long run. At the same time they also recognize that I do my job, stay out of the gossip, and do my best to help my fellow teachers.

My administration, particularly my assistant principal, have seemed to become increasingly wary of my 'shenanigans' this year and my lackadaisical attitude toward fulfilling requirements I deem unnecessary to being a good teacher. My attitude has always been and will remain that if an administrator at any level wants to check up on how I am teaching, they are welcome to walk in my room at any time. Heck, I'll set-up a la-z-boy for them so they can camp out and watch me teach all day, week, month, year. Just don't assume you know what's going on my classroom because I have failed to put a "Depth of Knowledge" level on my lesson plan.

My assistant principal has a special relationship with many of the students at our school because he seems to like to play "good cop" with them a bit and - I suspect - probably empathizing with students whom I send to him a bit more than I'd like. This is causing some discipline problems for me because I have had a number of students - mostly young ladies - say to me, "I don't care what you say, I'm going to Mr. X______ and he'll let me do what I want." Beautiful.

The new principal at RHS seems to be an amalgamation of all the awful things I hear about Jackson Public Schools and principals in the Delta. Two months into school, he didn't know my name, continually interrupts my class with inane announcements, and seems to come from the "Nell" school of English grammar. He adds an "s" - both in speech and in print - to the name of the school's lone assistant principal. He seems to have no problem using the same tone of voice with me that he uses with the students. Worst of all, he seems obsessed with fulfilling the acronym-laced requirements of district central office without any concern for how the will or will not help students. Just the other day, he pulled me away from an extra help session I was running for students to watch a sales presentation on SmartBoards, a purchasing decision that had already been made and was/would have been made without my input (I don't care that it was done without my input, it's not my realm or responsibility. What I was annoyed at was that I had to sit through a meeting that didn't concern me when I could have been with my kids). I then vaguely butted heads with him during the meeting because I could not hide my indignation at being pulled away from helping my students for no good reason.

I am getting to an increasingly comfortable position, though, in which I really have stopped worrying about what my administration tells me and have begun focusing on the kids. Knowing that I will not be at my school next year and will probably never return to public education at the secondary level allows me to enjoy a level of freedom and a blissful disregard for the desires of my superiors. All I worry about is doing the best for my kids, and trying to understand them as well as I can. This is probably not what the folks at central office, or Teacher Corps, or the DoE want to hear, but at this point I couldn't care less. The vast majority of my students trust me, know I am there to help them in any way I can, and seem to be learning something about life, if not about history and English. As long as I keep focused on that, I can keep my head above water and respect the job I've done with these students, with these kids.

2007-09-19T23:01:00.000-05:00

"Words is power."

- the principal of the high school at which I teach, during a discussion of the need to improve the writing scores of our students.

...and I will now light myself on fire.

2007-09-10T11:15:00.000-05:00

Two things that need to be said:

1. APA is the single worst citation format in the history of mankind.

2. EDRS 605 - Educational Research Methods is the single worst, most horribly demeaning class in the history of Teacher Corps. And that's saying alot.

2007-09-04T14:34:00.000-05:00

Sitting in my classroom, the Tuesday after Labor Day. I can't believe it's only September. I can't believe I am actually teaching. I really like my life down here. My friends are amazing, my roommate is great, there's always something interesting to do.

But I think I have discovered I really don't like teaching secondary school, or at least teaching in a shoddy secondary school in the South. Teaching is really starting to bore me, after only one year. It is a completely inane exercise, giving the same lecture five times each day. As I have previously mentioned, my new administration is a disappointment, a huge fall-off from last year. They are totally disorganized, never let the teaching staff know about anything until the last minute, and fail to adequately assess a new plan before putting it into affect. The majority of my kids are cool and fascinating, but there are others I simply cannot stand and don't want to take the time or energy to 'correct' their behavior or attitudes. SINCE WHEN IS BEING A LAZY, CHEATING SLACKER SOMETHING ABOUT WHICH TO BE PROUD?!?!

As for those I love, a population that includes the majority of my students, I want to hang out and talk to them about stuff they might enjoy, not try to force-feed curriculum down their throats. I want to take all the kids I think have potential and show them a bunch of things they'd never be exposed to otherwise. I sometimes think I should have joined AmeriCorps or some similar domestic service program. Teacher Corps is a great program in some respects; it has allowed me to meet a really diverse group of people, test myself in a series of ways, and experience a completely different part of the United States. In other respects, it has been a real disappointment, but the most disappointing thing about it is the fact that I've grown to dislike teaching, something over which the Program really has no control. Alas. How many months until school ends?

At that, I'll devote a few lines to something I am actually excited about right now...

NFL Predictions, 2007

AFC EAST: New England Patriots
AFC NORTH: Cincinnati Bengals
AFC SOUTH: Indianapolis Colts
AFC WEST: San Diego Chargers
AFC WILD: Baltimore Ravens, Jacksonville Jaguars
AFC CHAMPION: New England Patriots

NFC EAST: Dallas Cowboys
NFC NORTH: Chicago Bears
NFC SOUTH: New Orleans Saints
NFC WEST: St. Louis Rams
NFC WILD: Carolina Panthers, Green Bay Packers
NFC CHAMPION: Chicago Bears

SUPER BOWL: Patriots over Bears

To confirm my feelings: Tom Brady can father my illegitimate children anytime he wants. That is all for now.

2007-08-26T12:53:00.000-05:00

School has started back up - about three weeks ago - and I now find myself in room 122, teaching American History. As I've previously mentioned, the change allows me to teach the subject I truly love as well as stay with the same students I have had since last year. All around, it's a good deal.

Thusfar, my second year compares favorably to my first for a number of reasons. Primarily, my comfort level is much greater, not so much in the classroom but as in the school as a whole. I've always been very comfortable in front of a classroom, but now I feel supremely confident walking down the halls of RHS. My peers and the new administration seem to regard me as somewhat of a leader; I have been made chair of the history department and named to a couple of academic committees. These are, yes, mostly nominal positions that rely on bi-monthly bullshit sessions after school, but it is nice to be chosen regardless.

Students - both those I have in class and those I don't - recognize me as somebody who is largely fair and commonly understanding. It's great to return to school and have a kid you've never seen before approach you and say, "Mr. Ewing, I'm mad at you for switching grades. I thought I was gonna get to have you as a teacher this year." And this is even when I had one of the highest rates of failure of any teacher last year.

But having students like and respect me does not mean I am a great teacher. On the contrary, everyday I see things that I need to work on, even if the students' don't notice. I am disorganized and easily procrastinate work with a professional panache. My content knowledge is solid, but I constantly think that I can rework lesson plans to better serve the learning needs of my students. I completely ignore all suggestions of differentiated learning and have no idea what "depth of knowledge" refers to - even though I am on the school's Depth of Knowledge Committee (we've yet to have a meeting) and am supposed to teach Depth of Knowledge skills to other teachers in the district sometime in the near future. Actually, I think I have a good idea of what it means, but cannot bring myself to actively engage in Education Department-mandated terminology. It, as a good friend might say, hurts my soul.

To get back on topic: the second year has started well and has re-energized both me and my desire to teach. History (specifically American history) is the greatest subject in the world because it is so easily related to the students' lives. Already in three weeks this year we have had more meaningful, energetic debates in class than we did as an English class all last year. Was this a result of my failing as a teacher last year? Certainly, but I cannot force energy to germinate wherever I choose. On these topics, my students seem to have something to say.

2007-07-09T14:03:00.000-05:00

Currently sitting at Millsaps College, attending the "Advanced Placement Institute," a seminar designed to instruct teachers on how to teach Advanced Placement courses. Because I will be teaching AP United States History, I am sitting in the AP US class with about 30 other teachers from the greater Mississippi area. The teacher is a guy from Florida who has been teaching AP US History at a private school for about 30 years and has been teaching this seminar for 22 years. To wit: there's a lot of experience flying around this room.

And I am completely bored, bored out of my freaking mind. I was actually looking forward to this seminar, as much as I can look forward to attending a professional development session for a week during the summer. I'd love it i we were actually learning something, and I am really enjoying all that I am learning. The problem is that for eight hours we've already spent in class, about 45 minutes has been actual learning/teaching time. The rest of it has been spent playing this special game that all teachers seem to love. It's called the "complain game." For those of you unfamiliar, this is how you play:

1. Become a teacher. Public, private, parochial - it doesn't matter which; this seems to be a game that involves all educators.
2. Teach for any amount of time. It seems to work better the longer you teach, but only about a week of experience teaching is necessary to play.
3. Run into problems associated with any part of education. The best problems are those that include student motivation.
4. Complain. Blame everything on factors out of your control. Tell inane anecdotes in which nobody but your own ears is interested. Repeat for the entirety of your career in education.

It's very easy, anyone can play, all you have to do is become a teacher. You can find this game being played at any meeting of educators in America: professional development, break room during planning periods, Mississippi Teacher Corps meetings and classes, hallways after school. Please, feel free to join in, because as we all know, it's easier to bitch about a problem than to actually formulate a plan to deal with that issue. It's a really fun activity.

To eschew sarcasm for honesty: perhaps this game is a window into why education in general moves as slowly as the government bureaucracy of which it technically is a wing. As I have said since becoming a teacher, if those that work in education worked in the private sector as part of a for-profit company, a good 50% of them would be fired by the end of the week (including myself, but more as a result of the dress code policies than anything else).

2007-06-27T22:43:00.001-05:00

Successful and Non-Successful Teaching Strategies.

Traditionally, my most successful lessons of the year were those in which I was totally prepared and had anticipated any issues that might arise during the course of the lesson. I would say that my most successful lesson this year was the one I taught preparing students to read Their Eyes Were Watching God. The two main reasons the lesson (and, subsequently, the unit) went so well were 1) I was able to get the students excited through my own excitement and content knowledge, and the students payed careful attention as a result; and 2) the content was truly interesting.

My least successful lessons came when I ignored the tips I had learned from my best lessons. They came when I was unprepared, tired, or simply lazy. It takes a vast amount of energy to keep up with these kids while delivering content for seven hours every day, and I commonly became exhausted at the end of the day. Largely, this was my fault; I had expended an unwise amount of energy during the early part of the day and now my last two periods were suffering as a consequence. As a result, I cannot really pick one specific lesson that was my worst of the year, but I am sure it was one that was 1) full of boring content (read: grammar) and 2) was taught near the end of the day.

I did an awful job this year of differentiating instruction. When designing lesson plans, I only designed one main lesson for the students, which largely consisted of lectures and discussion sessions. As an English teacher, I had a difficult time believing that drawing or creating a house of cards could lead to an increased understanding of the English language. I guess I am a traditionalist, and though I thought my teaching style was relatively effective, we won't truly know how to measure it until the state test scores are released towards the middle of next month. All this said, as a history teacher next year I know I will have numerous opportunities to differentiate instruction for my students.

2007-06-26T14:24:00.000-05:00

I write in direct response to Miss Marshwater’s blog entry of June 25, about which numerous first-years have expressed frustration.

I suppose that what first must be understood is that, although we are all part of the same program, we all can have very different experiences, even during the summer portion of the program when we are all together. Though Miss Marchwater herself expressed some wariness of sweeping generalizations, I will make one here and now: almost none of the second years agree with Miss Marshwater’s characterization of the relationship between the first years and the second years.

I have taken the time to get to know a good handful of first years, even though “we don’t ride the bus together” and the first years seem to have “material advantages.” I don’t think this has been really hard; I’ve just shown up at planned and unplanned social events (basketball, frisbee, parties) and done my best to have conversations with the new members of Teacher Corps. And the vast majority of those new arrivals are kind, interesting, and relaxed people. The bus riding issue, and the general proximity of first years and second years to one another has been a minor issue in developing friendships and working relationships.

Even less of an issue is what Miss Marshwater terms the first years’ “material advantages,” a reference to the first years’ slightly nicer housing arrangements and the technology package they received upon entering Teacher Corps (MacBook laptop, printer, USB mass-storage device). Such “advantages” came through neither fault nor achievement of the first years, they just were in the right spot at an opportune time. It is stupid, jealous, and childish to judge any of the first years for receiving any of those “advantages.” On the contrary, the only person to blame is Ben Guest, who made promises he could not fulfill and then made the (in my opinion) poor decision to provide the technology package to the first years as opposed to members of the class of 2006 who have demonstrated their dedication to the program by already finishing a year of teaching in Mississippi.

I have seen nothing but kindness and respect from the vast majority of the first years. For a second year to let anything but personal interactions with the first years color their opinion of them is a loss to that second year and a loss to the greater health of the Teacher Corps program. Petty differences should not enter into the equation and define what has for me proven to be a series of enjoyable, new friendships.

2007-06-24T10:56:00.000-05:00

It is much more difficult to write this “success story” than it was to write my more recent “failure story.” I don’t think I’ve really had the chance to be a success yet; all of my possible successes are works in progress. As I was telling a curious first-year earlier this week, what makes teaching so difficult (along with other social service-oriented occupations) is that immediate gratification is almost nowhere to be found. Particularly as a first year teacher, my possible successes will not come to fruition for a number of years, perhaps even decades.

The only success I can claim from this past school year is the success of opening myself to other successes, that is, not quitting teaching or the Teacher Corps program. I was very close to quitting two separate times during the year, once in the time right before November break and another time during January and into early February. I voiced numerous complaints to parents and friends, began looking at other jobs, and even had an interview. For awhile there, I wanted out of Mississippi and out of teaching as soon as possible.

But I felt I owed it to myself, my students, and the Teacher Corps program to take at least one more shot at enjoying teaching. I redoubled my efforts in the classroom. I began to listen more to my students and not take their affronts so personally. I spent less time in front of the television and the internet and more time with books in my hands. I focused more on what I could do to improve my students’ lives through their education and began to ignore the requirements of my school and the Teacher Corps program. I focused on what was important to me and fulfilled obligations that I knew were pointless with the least amount of effort necessary to earn a ‘passing grade.’

To get to this point, I had numerous discussions with my family and friends, trying to work out exactly where my problems lay. However, the only way I could truly alter my existence down here was by communing with myself. I had to reach deep inside and consider what I valued and how far I was willing to go to fulfill my original goals. And I am actually quite proud of myself for being able to do that level of soul-searching.

My classroom didn’t really turn around, if anything it may have gotten worse as far as management is concerned. The change was in my attitude and how I approached my daily duties. I also started to see my students outside of the classroom more often and spend more time with the people in Mississippi that I love. And, slowly but surely, I began to enjoy myself once again. I will not be a high school teacher for the rest of my life, but at least I now know that I can look a difficult issue in the face, stare it down, and come out on top.

And so, in the boundaries of this program, it was a success to remain in Mississippi as a teacher. I am still unsure if it was the right decision. To me, it stands as a success because it is an example of perseverance. I could have very easily bagged this program, teaching, and Mississippi and gone back to what I see as a much more logical existence in New England, but I stuck to my commitment. That idea of committing to something and then following through on it has become very important to me. As a close friend remarked to me once, my generation seems to have a major problem with consistency, commitment, and professionalism, and I wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps this is because we are part of the “clicker” generation. We have always been told we can do anything whenever we want, whether that be watch a different television show right this moment or pursue any career we choose, regardless of how absurd it may be (I fear that the next generation, those that have never not known the internet and have everything “on demand,” will be even worse that my generation is currently).

2007-06-22T15:21:00.000-05:00

When considering how and where I have failed over the past year of teaching, one story does not stick out. Cynically, I think that this feeling results from believing that I failed in so many respects that it is difficult to focus on just one instance of failure. I realize this sounds derisive towards my own abilities, but it has long been within my makeup to deflect praise and instead emphasize where improvements can be made. And as I have written/blogged about before, there need to be numerous improvements in my teaching future.

If one general failure does stick out in my mind, it was my inability to motivate the students I will define as my “3” kids. I feel like I have four basic types of students. My “1” students are those that are the most academically talented and always get their work in on time. Most of these students were in my Accelerated English II class, and I rarely worried about their academic progress. My “2” students were my favorite students, those that displayed an immense amount of academic and personal potential but were hindered by either their home life, the company they kept, or another factor. It is with those “2” students I feel I can make the most progress and have the greatest effect as a teacher and a mentor; they are the students I came to Mississippi to teach. Alternatively, my “4” students are mostly helpless. They could earn this title in a number of ways, either as a result of extremely poor behavior, a lack of desire to learn, or both (they commonly travel together). Additionally, I saw little potential in these students.

The real issue for me was with the “3” students. These were the students that seemed to have a slight amount of potential but I dismissed because of their poor behavior, their lack of interest in the class, or simply because I didn’t like them personally. This did not mean that I gave them short shrift in their education, but I was a little more wary about going the extra mile for these kids because I knew they would be unappreciative of my efforts and/or take advantage of my kindness. A couple of instances; case studies if you will…

- MJ was the school’s star basketball player, whose approach to the game mirrored his approach to academics and life in general. He knew he was the most talented player on the court, but he used his skills to show-off his individual talents; he had no idea of how to run a team and improve the game of those around him. In class he showed potential but did just enough to get by and pass my class. He could have easily gotten a 85 or 90; instead he ended up with a 71, a point north of the grade needed to pass the course. This attitude caused him to be a major discipline problem in class as well as a general headache for me.

- MC was MJ’s best friend and compatriot in my third period. Each day, the two worked in tandem to bug the ever-loving Christ out of me. Like his partner in crime, MC has a solid amount of potential but more interest in refining his image to hew himself into the smoothest kid in 10^th grade rather than actually improving himself through education and personal trial. Though he turned out to be more respectful and not as much of a discipline issue as his compatriot, MC caused me numerous moments of frustration in his own right.

- SD, a student that could best be described as a redneck with solid background knowledge who commonly skipped my 7^th period class. All things considered, he was probably the laziest student I had this past year, a sloth of a child that prided himself on being vaguely ignorant.

And my failure is that I let them all slide by. Each of those three students (who are representative of the attitudes of numerous others) passed my class because they did just enough to get by (all were in the 70-75 range). I am not saying that I should have failed them; on the contrary, I should have pushed them to achieve the high grades they were capable of earning. Instead, I let them slide by because I did not want to spend the extra energy needed to push them. In short, I was lazy.

This, quite obviously, was a huge mistake. When deciding to join Teacher Corps, I promised myself – in my infinite idealism – that I would never give up on a student. However, giving up is exactly what I did with these three gentlemen and a handful of others. This was a direct result of my lack of preparation, my own laziness, and a general feeling of being overwhelmed as a first year teacher. Next year, this cannot be an excuse. The best thing about moving up a grade (to teach U.S. History) for the next school year is that I get another chance with MJ, MC, SD, and all the others, and I can now resolve to correct the mistakes I made as a first year teacher.

2007-06-04T23:23:00.000-05:00

EDCI 602: Blog on Learning Goals & Instructional Decisions in Lesson Planning

When preparing lessons, my primary goal is always to get students excited about what I will be teaching. I realize that this is an obvious goal that should be adhered to by every teacher, but when I am really preparing my best lessons I like to think I am paying closer attention to that aspect than the majority of my peers in this profession. I suppose this ultimate goal is based on my (arrogant?) belief that if I can get a student excited about the topic at hand, I can teach him anything.

The more specific goals - i.e. the lesson's objectives - tend to be very specific at the beginning of the year when we are hitting on basic skills that will be necessary to facilitate learning for the rest of the year. As that school year progresses my objectives become increasingly vague ("The student will read and discuss major literary elements of Ernest Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants") because I think the best learning occurs during classroom discussions. I, admittedly and regrettably, did not have enough of those this past year. It is my hope that the history classes I teach next year will become essentially discussion course for all involved, myself included.

I would like to think that nearly all of my higher-level instruction is at least somewhat inductive in that I ask the students to figure things out for themselves. This always happens when we read a piece of literature in class. I first ask for immediate reactions, then I ask students to describe the basic plot for me. After that, I open the floor to an interpretative discussion. While I may nudge this discussion when I deem it necessary, the majority of thoughts are the students' own. I feel that when students are discovering things for themselves is when they are learning the most, which is why I always emphasize to my students the importance of questioning everything they come across in life; in short, they should take nothing for granted, even what comes out of my mouth.

2007-05-14T18:19:00.000-05:00

I am currently in the process of moving from Jackson to a smaller town to the west that is part of my district. I did not decided to move as a result of my experiences in Jackson; I really liked living with my old roommates and being in the middle of the capital city. Rather, I wanted to move because of where I’d be going.

The attractiveness of the house in which I currently reside is what originally peaked my interest; it is beautiful, it is old, and it smells like a large fireplace since there is one in each main room. There are two dogs out here, both black labs. Jack is fat and lazy and he drools on everyone he meets. Truman is athletic and excitable. When you leave the house to go for a walk, Truman will leap over the front fence and follow you, bounding into the woods only to return minutes later. It’s great to drive up to the house and have both of the boys waiting on the front porch, wagging their tales. My parents’ dog did the same, but it was always related to food; these two dogs only want attention and a rub on the head.

The house is framed by old oaks that are covered in Spanish moss. Their branches seem to open up when you travel up the dirt driveway, revealing the front porch where Jack and Truman spend their days. The interior of the house is covered in art from everywhere, no theme unites the décor of any of the rooms. Nearly all the furniture is made of wood, and the plank flooring is only rarely covered by rugs.

The lack of light pollution at night allows for a starry sky to shine between the branches of the trees and a darkness to block the rest of the house. I’ve heard that some visitors find the house creepy at night and suggest the presence of ghosts, but I’ve yet to be visited by any spirits.

Yet, the best part of living out here is the people. I live with the guy who owns the house. He is a number of years my elder, nearly my father’s age, but is certainly one of the coolest baby-boomers I’ve ever met. His view on life is similar to the friend that introduced us in the sense that both men look at the world in a way I have never experienced or considered. The greatest reason for moving was to increase my access to these two guys, both of whom make me want to change around my life.

Whenever people come over the house, we just sit with beers in hand, the radio softly playing country or bluegrass in the background. Sometimes we go for walks with the dogs, but mostly we just sit and talk. Maybe it is because the two guys I always hang out with out here are so interesting, or maybe it is because the house brings something out in you, but we never turn on the tv, we never play games, we never have to come up with any form of entertainment other than talking. And it is perfect and wonderful, the perfect escape from teaching and all the rest. As I said in the last post, a cold beer and a good book can solve most problems. A beautiful house and interesting company can probably do the same.

2007-05-12T11:28:00.000-05:00

I don’t really know how to characterize last summer – that is the summer of training before teaching began. It was exciting in that it was full of meeting new people, discovering new places, and learning entirely new things (most of which were only related to teaching on the surface). My experience was greatly colored by the fact that I arrived in Mississippi less than 24 hours after receiving my diploma. Given that timetable, everything that I did last summer (and perhaps everything that has followed) has been somewhat influenced by that sudden change in lifestyle. Though I am still feel I am mostly walking around Mississippi blindly myself, this is the advice I would impart about that first summer in Oxford…

- Get outside of your dorm room this summer. Take every opportunity to experience Oxford, Lafayette County, and the area in general. If somebody – whether they are a fellow first-year, a second-year, a faculty member, or somebody you randomly met in Oxford – asks you to join them in doing something that seems different and maybe even a little crazy, you should certainly join them.
- Don’t shy away from new experiences. One of the lessons I learned in Teacher Corps classes that I’ve applied to my own life is that the best learning can only take place when you are placed outside your comfort zone.
- Don’t judge too quickly. This rule extends to almost every facet of Mississippi, the Teacher Corps, and teaching in general. You will meet fellow first-years that you do not like at first, but give them time and most of them will end up having personalities from which you can learn, even if they are personalities you may not enjoy. Remember that it’s similar to the first days of college in that everyone is awkward and nervous, and may act against their personality because of the pressures surrounding them. You will meet people at your school when you first visit in the summer whom you may dislike at first, but are also necessary for you to have a successful first year, so don’t immediately dismiss them.
- Take the time to listen to everyone. This means Dr. Mullins, Dr. McConnell, Ben, the second-years, your fellow first-years, other staff at Holly Springs, the bus drivers, bartenders, crazy drunk people in Oxford, etc. Everyone has some kind of wisdom to impart, and you never know when it will end up being helpful.
- Try to get in touch with somebody who teaches at your school (perhaps in your department) and ask them about any quirks the school, district, or administration may display.
- Mentally prepare yourself for teaching by coming to terms with Murphy’s Law: if something bad can happen, it probably will. Even more succinctly: be ready for everything, surprised by nothing.
- Everyone will tell you to make sure you have a life outside of teaching. Similarly, make a concerted effort to have a life outside of Teacher Corps. Call your family and college friends often and talk to them about things that are totally unrelated to teaching and Mississippi. It’s easy to get bogged down in Teacher Corps gossip and politics if Teacher Corps is the only thing you focus on.
- Read. Square Books is over-rated, but the Ole Miss Library isn’t bad and they can always order something for you on Inter-Library Loan.
- Eat a long dinner at Taylor Grocery with other first-years and take that time to get to know the people to your left and right.
- Go to an Ole Miss baseball game.
- Have a cookout and go swimming at Lake Sardis.
- When all else fails, a good book and cold beer can solve a great many problems.

2007-05-06T10:12:00.000-05:00

I had a good yesterday, spent up in the Delta with a few other Teacher Corps members, attending the Leland Crawfish Festival. First time I've ever had crawfish and it was pretty good, though I (thankfully) didn't suck the heads. There was also a great lineup of local bands playing blues, country, and bluegrass. There were about 200 people there, mostly white (which is surprising given the demographics of the Delta). More interestingly (but perhaps not unexpected) was the de-facto segregation that invaded the open seating; whites sat on one side of the stage, blacks on the other.

After spending a few hours at the festival most of us went to see Spiderman 3. The movie itself was actually pretty disappointing and I think I have come to the decision that Spiderman is a bad superhero. He's too emotional and whiny, and he never makes a solid decision himself. A few friends who were at the movie with me termed Peter Parker the "Emo-superhero." Also, every villain in the film (seemingly like every villain during the entire series) had a "good guy gone bad" backstory, which was really annoying. Why can't we have bad guys that are purely evil?

But I don't mention my movie-going experience in the hope of becoming the new Roger Ebert, but rather because the social factors on display in the theater while we were watching the film. We went to see the movie at a theater in Greenville, in the heart of the Delta. For the 4:00 Saturday afternoon showing, the audience was 90% black and a good 40% of the audience was under the age of 12. We got there about ten minutes before the previews began and found a set of seats in the middle of the theater. We were mostly surrounded by parents who had brought sets of children, most of whom were already restless in their seats.

Instead of being annoying, the kids' comments during the movie added to the fun. "Ohhh he hit a girl!" yelled one at a most opportune time, and I remember being happy that a young kid from the Delta was surprised at the display of semi-domestic violence. Why do I say this? Well, about ten minutes after he said that, I heard a loud "smack" come from my immediate right. A little girl, sitting two seats down from me in between her mother and her mother's female friend, had been hit by the mother (for, I assume, being annoying, or loud, or something, though I don't recall any kind of disturbance). I immediately turned and gave the mother's friend a look that said, "what the hell is the matter with you people?" She caught the fact that I was staring at her and turned to meet my glare. We had this half moment (actually, probably a few seconds) of silent conversation with our eyes, during which she seemed tired or annoyed for me judging her friend.

Later during the movie, the kids in the row in front of me became restless and began moving around. The mother, or whoever she was, fired a look at one of the kids once they had been snooping around in their seats for awhile. "Sit your ass down before I knock your teeth out!" About a half hour later, she stremlined her request: "SHUTUP!"

I think almost everyone has had similar experiences. You're in the supermarket and the woman next to you in the checkout line attempts to quiet their child with a brisk slap on the arm or cheek. I've seen it happen everywhere, but it seems to be more common in the areas in which Teacher Corps sends their recruits, especially the Delta. It also seems to happen more commonly in black families, perhaps it is more common in Southern families in general. White, black, or brown; north, south, east, or west, these moments seem to happen more often amongst lower-class individuals. I have no concrete evidence to backup these suppositions, just what I have witnessed.

It is not really the hitting that specifically bothers me, but rather the attitude in general. My roommates and I commonly joke about parents "smacking around" their kids, but whenever we discuss it there is always a degree of disgust added to the conversation. We don't laugh about the stories of our students getting smacked in Wal-Mart because such tales are actually funny, we laugh at them because it is such a foreign, absurd image.

It seems that the children in the Spiderman 3 movie theater were seen by their parents as burdens, not as joys. As studies have shown, children who are exposed to "phrases of negativity" (such as "shut up," "go away," etc.) are more likely to have social, academic, and economic difficulties as they get older. If that is true, these kids are in big trouble.

The thing that I wonder, sitting here while I type this, is whether this is a social problem or an economic problem. Of course, those two issues are intricately related, but the question is still worth discussing. If my hunch is true and children in the Delta are disciplined using physical punishment more often than their average American counterparts, what is the reason? If my hunch is true and children in the Delta hear more "phrases of negativity" than their average American counterparts, what is the reason? Is it because most are poor? Is it because most are black? Is it because all are Southern, or at least now live in the south?

2007-04-01T22:50:00.000-05:00

So that I can look back in eight months and see how wrong I was, here are my 2007 MLB picks...

AL East: Boston Red Sox
AL Central: Detroit Tigers
AL West: Oakland Athletics
AL Wild Card: New York Yankees

NL East: New York Mets
NL Central: St. Louis Cardinals
NL West: Los Angeles Dodgers
NL Wild Card: Philadelphia Phillies

ALDS: Tigers over Yankees, Red Sox over Athletics
ALCS: Tigers over Red Sox

NLDS: Mets over Cardinals, Dodgers over Phillies
NLCS: Mets over Dodgers

World Series: Mets over Tigers in 6 games

MVP - AL: Alex Rodriguez / NL: Jose Reyes
Cy Young - AL: Johan Santana / NL: Brandon Webb
Rookie of the Year - AL: Daisuke Matsuzaka / NL: Chris Young

2007-03-31T15:18:00.000-05:00

Ben suggested that we write a blog on the topic of what we wish we knew before joining Teacher Corps. I suppose that the easy answer is, "everything I know now," but I'll try to give a more complete response here.

I guess I should begin with what I knew before coming down here, or what I expected. I've blogged about this in the pas, and all of my assumptions at that point were very uneducated, but I guess they went a little something like this:

1. It will be difficult.
2. The graduate school classes will ensure you become an excellent teacher.
3. You will have a huge effect on the students.

After almost a year in the program, I am not sure how able I am to judge the validity of these claims, but I can use them to come up with a list of things I wish I had known.

1. It will be difficult, but not in the way you expect. The difficulties I have faced in my life have always been based on not understanding an academic concept (such as calculus and chemistry) or not understanding the behavior of other people (friends, acquaintances, family, lovers). I am arrogant enough to have had very little self doubt in my life. Until I became a teacher. I have doubted myself almost every day since stepping into the classroom, in regards to both the big things and the little things. I doubt whether I am teaching a concept correctly. I doubt whether my students are understanding me. I doubt whether I truly understand what I am teaching. Most importantly, I doubt if I am a good teacher. I doubt if I am the best person for these kids to have in the classroom.

2. Teacher Corps is not an academic program. I have learned very little from my graduate school classes, but for some tricks of the trade (I previously posted about my feelings on the Ole Miss Graduate School of Education). If you expect to use the weekends in Oxford to academically investigate some great mystery about American educational inequality, you are looking in the wrong place.

3. Secondary teaching (at least in critical needs schools) is not an academic pursuit. The problems I work out each day in my classroom are varied, but they are hardly ever intellectual. To truly grow intellectually I need somebody to challenge me and make me uncomfortable. Though my students may commonly make me uncomfortable, very rarely is it an academic discomfort.

4. Take Ben Guest with a grain of salt. It is really easy to bash him, his policies, and the way he presents things (as most every member of my Teacher Corps class did in the early days of our time here), but in the end you have to understand that all the decisions he makes are for the best of the program (even if they don't serve your individual interest). By joining Teacher Corps you have become part of a greater family, and Ben is the mother. Dr. Mullins is the father. Ms. Monroe is the cool aunt.

And that's all I have to say about that for right now.

2007-03-31T14:25:00.000-05:00

I am currently covering another teacher’s class while my students take the English II State Writing Test (for obvious reasons, it is illegal for me to be in the room while my students are taking any state test in my subject). The classroom in which I currently sit is less of a classroom and more of a computer lab. The teacher sits at a computer at the head of the class while students work on individualized programs meant to improve their English language skills (the program is called “Orchard,” for those of you familiar). From what I can see, the students are mostly searching for the main idea, answering some reading comprehension questions, and completing grammar various grammar activities.

But for the occasional pen-tapping, cough, or sneeze, the room is silent. As you, dear reader, have probably already realized, the setup of the classroom gives me (or any teacher) the ability to dutifully ignore the students as they complete their assignments. Or don’t complete them – I just went around the classroom and awakened three different students for the third time, one of whom retorted with, “But Miss O. lets me sleep in this class!”

I truly cannot judge how much learning is taking place in this room, as I type these words. My honest guess is that about 40% of the class is getting something out of their exercises, 20% is completing the exercises and not learning much, and the last 40% is daydreaming or attempting to sleep.

Which brings me to my point: technology in the classroom is a farce. Despite this, it continues to be a buzzword in education, one of those perennial topics that will certainly appear on the docket during conferences and seminars, one that will always be a part of the curriculum of graduate schools of education. It remains so potent because it is a panacea that satisfies the needs of three major groups:

Teachers. Teachers in technology-based classrooms commonly used the machines to replace themselves, something that sounds disheartening but in actuality is nice for the teacher who does not want to do any actual teaching. As most of us realize, this is, sadly, a very populous group.
Administrators. Principals and assistant principals feel they are accomplishing something by getting an expensive piece of technology into the classroom. It is an addition that can be pointed to as a concrete example of “improvement”: “Look! We now have an expensive thingamajig!”
Politicians: Much like principals and other administrators, many politicians seem to think they can satisfy numerous educational problems by bankrolling a sexy piece of technology.

My main issue with all of this is not that we have technology in the classroom; on the contrary, I think it is wonderful to have access to a variety of tech-based tools. However, I commonly fear that technology in itself is becoming a coverall that allows individual teachers to cut corners and not fully donate themselves to ensuring their students fully learn each topic at hand. Technology should never replace the old-fashioned model of teaching: lectures, note-taking, reading, studying, and assessing.

2007-03-19T20:09:00.000-05:00

(Today in class, during a pop quiz...)

me: "C, keep your eyes on your own paper. In fact, please go sit in the last seat in that row."
C: "Aw, Mr. E, my people 'been fighting so they didn't have to sit in the back of the bus. Now I ain't sitting in the back of the classroom!"
me (softly laughing): "Please just move."
(she moves)
(a minute later)
C (singing softly): "We shall overcome, we shall overcome..."
me (laughing uncontrollably): "Oh Lord..."

2007-03-18T12:13:00.000-05:00

From my third nine weeks exam...

Bonus: In which city is the Eiffel Tower located?

TJ's answer: "Paris, where the homosexual people live."

2007-02-05T18:18:00.000-06:00

January is the cruelest month, teaching...

The program director of the Teacher Corps program has always told us that October is the hardest month of teaching. I don't know if he was trying to make us first-years feel better (in giving us a major goal to achieve relatively early in the year), but I totally disagree with him. By a wide margin, the hardest month of teaching is January.

January was the month in which I flirted with leaving the Teacher Corps after this year. It was actually more than a serious flirtation. I'd say that we ate at a nice restaurant, took a stroll on the beach, and I got her back to my place. We may have even undressed. However, I just couldn't do it. Barring catastrophe or another twist of fate, I'll be teaching in Mississippi next year. I don't know what, exactly, made me change my mind. Maybe I'll write about that some other time. Here, I'll publish something I began writing about three weeks ago, when I was at (what I hope will prove to be) the low-point of this year.

---

From a Newsweek article about Oprah Winfrey and her recently-opened South African school:

"Oprah also knows that some people will complain that charity should begin at home, even though she has provided millions of dollars to educate poor children in the United States, especially via her Oprah Winfrey Scholars Program. But she sees the two situations as entirely different. 'Say what you will about the American educational system—it does work,' she says. 'If you are a child in the United States, you can get an education.' And she doesn't think that American students—who, unlike Africans, go to school free of charge—appreciate what they have. 'I became so frustrated with visiting inner-city schools that I just stopped going. The sense that you need to learn just isn't there,' she says. 'If you ask the kids what they want or need, they will say an iPod or some sneakers. In South Africa, they don't ask for money or toys. They ask for uniforms so they can go to school.'"

That last quotation - the one concerning American students asking for sneakers and iPods - caused a minor furor among American news commentators, though most of the editorials I saw were from second-tier newspapers such as the St. Petersberg (FL) Times and the Sacramento Bee. Like nearly anything, some commentators took issue with the sentiment and others agreed with her, though I cannot say that most of the response was either positive or negative.

Personally, I thought her comments were spot-on. My experience with American education (limited as it may be) has taught me that every student can get an education if they want to. Many individuals and organizations involved in the debate surrounding American educational inequality would have us believe that the system is fatally flawed and almost actively seeks to hinder the progress of racial minorities and the economically disadvantaged. Teach for America's website, citing the National Assessment for Educational Progress, tells us that

"Nine-year-olds growing up in low-income communities are already three grade levels behind their peers in high-income communities. Half of them won't graduate from high school. Those who do graduate will, on average, read and do math at the level of eighth graders in high-income communities."

While all of these facts and figures may be true, they fail to tell us the reason for the problem of educational inequality, a problem which I would submit has much less to do with the schools than Teach for America (and the Mississippi Teacher Corps) would like us to believe. To echo the adage espoused by teachers everywhere since Horace Mann: it's the parents. There is only so much teachers can do.

Many of my students don't care. They don't listen to me. They don't complete their work. They interrupt me with inane questions. They lie directly to my face. They put more effort into constructing excuses than anything else. They are immature. They are arrogant, even as they are proven to be totally ignorant. They show me little or no respect. They drive me insane. If I come up with an amazing, informative, and exciting lesson plan, they don't care. If I come up with a boring, difficult, and awkward lesson plan, they don't care.

Many of their parents aren't much better, but that's another story for another day.

To quote a cliche: I can only lead a camel to water. I cannot make it drink.

---

Sometime, around when I wrote that, when I was at my lowest point, I suddenly realized something. It's not me. They aren't disrespecting me, they are disrespecting an authority figure. They don't dislike my class, they dislike school in general. All things considered, they sometimes do listen to me. I don't know how I turned my attitude around, and I am still working on improving my outlook on teaching (many days I come home with a massive headache, but for right now things are going much better. I think the key was this: I began a unit the students really seem to enjoy (reading Their Eyes Were Watching God) and I am focusing on enjoyable parts of my job and trying to forget all the negative aspects of it.

2007-01-07T14:58:00.000-06:00

We returned to school on Tuesday of this week, though it seemed that teachers were not ready to teach and the students were certainly not ready to learn. I ended up giving a brief lecture on the presidency of Gerald Ford and taking some time to introduce the construction of the English II State Exam.

For all you fashionistas out there, there have been a couple of new styles amongst the boys of RHS that I thought you might want to be made aware. First off, yesterday I walked into class to find one young man wearing a t-shirt that displayed a number of mugshots. At first I thought they were all mugshots of famous rappers, but upon closer examination I saw that a few other famous African Americans were pictured, including Jesse Jackson. I didn't really know how to feel about this; I suppose I would have respected the shirt if it featured leaders who had been arrested as a result of protest or civil disobedience, but the shirt seemed to instead be celebrating men who had been arrested on rape and gun possession charges. Wonderful.

Another interesting piece of recently recurring fashion at RHS is a sweatshirt with drawings of food stamps and WIC coupons on it. At least two of my students own it. Again: wonderful.

In a similar vein: about two months ago, a couple of students in my seventh period class figured out that I had been rotating through two pairs of khakis for the entire year. They also noticed two weeks later when I had to wear the same pants for four days straight (mixup at the cleaners). This past Thursday, when I wore a new pair of gray khakis that my parents got me for Christmas, one of my students asked, "Ohhh, Mr. E, new pants??" When I answered in the affirmative, the entire class gave me a standing ovation. At least my students get excited about something...

2006-12-08T09:48:00.000-06:00

With winter break fast-approaching (and not a moment too soon), we were asked to write a reflection on our first semester of teaching.

I am currently laying in my bed, having taken my first sick day off from school. I was trying to make it the entire year without missing a day, but this cold just knocked me on my ass. I came home early from school yesterday and then, just about a half hour ago, decided to stay home today. I probably should have taken yesterday off, too. I was reading with the kids in first period and started mispronouncing the words like a drunken sailor and losing my train of thought as I was teaching. In this sense, my performance in class yesterday morning was not unlike a certain American president. At around 11:30, my school’s angelic, motherly secretary said, “go home, Mr. Ewing.” And that’s what I did, regretting the decision the entire way home (with a stop at Walgreen’s, where the girl at the counter had no idea what ginger ale is. Other things I did yesterday: read a solid chunk of the last third of All the King’s Men; watched an overrated documentary called My Architect, which deals with the relationship between Louis Kahn and his illegitimate son; completed a take-home test for a grad school class; slept about three hours on my favorite couch at home; swore at Theo for signing Julio Lugo to a four year deal; defended same boy-wonder GM for signing the wrong outfielder named JD to an overblown deal (he’ll be a great 5^th bat in the lineup); explained to my roommates what a fluffernutter is; missed my parents).

I sometimes feel like less of a Teacher Corps member because my situation is so much better than my peers’, especially those who are teaching in the Delta. My school is clean. My administration is supportive and kind. These two factors, though seemingly small, make my job measurably more enjoyable. Basically, they make sure that I can teach with little getting in my way.

At the same time, I know I face issues that my peers do not. Many of my students are on the bus nearly an hour before they get to school in the morning. This means two things. First, they seem to be more tired in the classroom, and on some days I cannot blame them. I hated riding on the bus to school in the morning, and my ride was never more than twenty minutes. Second, this means that students cannot easily get home after school if they miss the afternoon busses (which depart RHS about seven minutes after the final bell has rung). As a result, almost none of my students stay for extra help, although I offer it every single day after school. The handful who do come in for extra help are there because they are waiting to get on a bus to go to an away basketball game, or waiting for band practice to begin. I had always imagined that when I became a teacher, I would stay in my classroom after school and offer help to students, because I truly believe the best learning can happen in an 1-on-1 environment. I am quite frustrated when, afternoon upon afternoon, I am greeted by an empty classroom.

I am afraid that I am not a very good teacher. When a student does not understand a concept, I try to patiently explain it to him, using as many cultural and interdisciplinary reference points as possible, but in my head I am thinking, “kid, this is so easy. How the hell do you not understand this?” Though I try all I can to not let that frustration show, I sometimes fear that my students can recognize it in my eyes.

When my students peer-review essays in class, I make them fill out a sheet that asks two basic questions, among others: “What did you do well?” and “Where could you improve?” I suppose that I should apply the same concept to my own teaching, so here goes…

What I have done well.

I can connect with my students. For the most part, they seem to like and trust me. My roommates and I commonly discuss how great our lives would be if all we had to do all day was hang out with the kids, rather than teaching them. Unfortunately, the job description requires a little more than friendly conversation and mentoring.
I have presented myself in a way that allows my coworkers and superiors to like me. I know that my principal and his staff truly do like me and know that I am putting forth my best effort each and every day. Additionally, a few people at the district office have noticed and commended my teaching.
I do a solid job connecting classroom topics to experiences my students have had outside of school.

Where I need to improve.

Use my position to better motivate my students. In all honesty, I still have no idea how to do this, though I am sure it closely related to #8 below.
Become more organized and more reliable in returning work to students in a timely manner. Additionally, I need to take more time with student work and let the kids know exactly how they can improve.
Give my students more individualized attention.
Make my students write more formal essays.
Have more patience with my students.
Be a better, more consistent, and more fair disciplinarian. Basically, I let too many things slide, to the point where certain students are disrupting the learning of their peers through their misbehavior.
Have better contact with the parents of my students. Although I feel I am relatively good at this, I do not look forward to parent-teacher conferences because I fear those parents will note a gaping hole in my strategy or abilities. Perhaps this fear is well-founded in the sense that my subconscious recognizes numerous fatal flaws in my teaching and personality.
Better define goals for each unit and lesson. The students need a peak towards which they can climb, and I sometimes feel I am not giving them this opportunity. Just pushing them to succeed because they “need to do well on the state test” is not nearly enough, and is probably irresponsible.
Become more of an adult in all facets of my life: how I teach, how I spend my free time, how I approach my relationships with other people, how I define my overall goals.

The above list is by no means exhaustive. There are a hundred – a thousand – things that I need to improve. However, I suppose that I need to start with just a handful and focus on those. To narrow my list even more, I want to focus on numbers 6, 8, and 9. They are all important, but those three goals offer the greatest opportunity for improvement and will have the greatest effect on my classroom.

In short, right now I feel like I am passing. As the sign that I hung in my room says, “Passing is not Good Enough.” I should certainly hold myself to the same standards I use to measure my students.

2006-11-25T13:00:00.000-06:00

I really thought my posting of two weeks ago (re: discipline) fulfilled a requirement for class, but I have just today discovered that it (probably) did not. To be honest: I am completely and utterly confused as to the blog assignment details to this point. I really have no idea what I am supposed to write here, so I guess I'll tell a classroom management experience I had, and perhaps that will illuminate a bit of what I've been experiencing over the past few weeks.

I suppose that everyone must envision himself in a possible job before he decides to pursue that career. As such, my mind's eye has always focused on what it would be like to be a teacher. Lying in bed at night, I would dream up the lesson plans, teaching materials, and overall goals I would try to use as a teacher. More than considering them, I would see them run in my head like a movie. They were dreams, not unlike how I would act out sinking the final, curling putt to win the Masters when I was in middle school (and, I must be honest, long after that). Much of what I saw on that imagined film was truly the result of an innocent fantasy; I had no idea. However, a small number have come to fruition.

One of those imaginings that has come to pass is my policy regarding cheating. Due to a number of experiences in high school (the president of our National Honor Society was also the school's most notorious plagiarist), I always promised myself that I would become a fascist when dealing with students I caught cheating. I give out zeros on the assignment, and then send them up to the office, where they are traditionally given at least two days of detention. I like to think that I've done pretty well so far, and I am happy to say that I think there is (comparatively) little cheating in my class.

This policy, however, was tested last week when I sat down to grade the students' "poetry projects." To me, the project was easy, although it did contain a number of steps. I gave the students nearly two weeks to accomplish it, including two full class days during which they could work on the project and pick my brain for assistance. Not surprisingly, the students complained about having such a large assignment and convinced me to count it as 1.5 test grades (as opposed to the one test grade I had originally intended). The goal of the project was to get the students to do independent research on a poem (they had 4 from which to choose) and poet. It was my hope that they would get the opportunity to interpret a poem for themselves (an activity we had done countless times in class) so that they could feel that singular joy that comes from understanding a piece of literature.

Though I was disappointed in the number of pathetically unfinished projects I received, I was delighted to see the number of excellent projects that were turned in to me. I gave out a large number of grades above 90, and a very large number of grades above 85.

(As an aside, any student who thinks their teachers are out to give him a bad grade is out of his mind. Grading my student's essays and tests is like a participator sport for me. I cringe when a student forgets a simple grammatical rule and my blood starts pumping when a student earns a high score on an exam, particularly a student who has traditionally not done well in my class. When grading anything, good or bad, I talk to the paper as if it was a talisman representing the student: "Tameka! You know better than that!"; "Hell yea, Jeremy"; etc. Just a note.)

So, I grade one project by a certain student who probably has a 67 in my class. Not good, not bad. I give her a 75. I get up, slurp a drink of water from the bubbler down the hall, and return to my desk. Pick up another paper. Oh, I just graded this one, didn't I? No- wait. This is a different name. BUT IT'S THE EXACT SAME FREAKING PAPER. THE BLOODY FONT AND PARAGRAPH BREAKS ARE IDENTICAL. I throw it across the room, cursing. Give both students zeros, and resolve to talk to them the next morning.

I arrive home and think it might be a good idea to call the two girls' parents, to let them know their little angels have been coping from each other. The mother of Girl A, a student who has always been kind to me despite her poor grades in my class, is shocked (as was I, when first realizing that it was this student who cheated). To make a long story short, Girl A ends up calling me at home and crying to me on the phone: "Mr. E, I am so sorry... I didn't cheat!" I want to believe her, but can't.

Girl B is more interesting. To be frank: she drives me nuts. She's lazy, conniving, and generally unkind to both her classmates and me. She's also extremely funny (though I am usually laughing at, and not with, her) and always participates in my class. About a month before the cheating incident, she had had a bad week, which resulted in a suspension (though from another teacher, not me). She received a detention from me the same week, as well as a pair of calls home. Since then, she'd been great. Her grade had leaped from a 67 to an 82, she had been much better behaved in class, and she actually seemed to (!) enjoy my class, of not me. I was very proud of her turnaround, and had actually begun to look forward to having her in class.

Then this, the cheating incident. Needless to say, her mother was not surprised. When I talked to Girl B in class the next day, she immediately returned to her old tricks. "OnGawd, Mr. E! You're always after me!" Every excuse and denial in the book was given; I won't extended an already long post by listing them here. The resolution? Both girls were sent to the vice principal and (I believe) given three day's detention. Because the project was so large, I told them I'd give them an opportunity to re-do it. Both girls received entirely new poems (and, of course, different poems) and are to pass it into me this coming Monday.

This all happened on the Thursday and Friday before Thanksgiving. Will Girl B return to her old ways of terrorizing me in class? Will Girl A clam-up and return to the shell she had begun to slowly vacate over the course of the last month? Only time will tell. However, as far as a disciplinary moment, I think all went well because I was prepared to confront the girls and they received the punishment they both deserved and expected. I just hope that such an incident does not change the way they approach my class.

---
Some random notes while I am here:
1. Mom's pumpkin pie never tasted better than it did on Thursday.
2. There is no greater feeling than that of being on a college campus in New England during autumn. Intellectualism, beauty, crispness, vigor. Makes me want to sport a tweed jacket, light a pipe, and quote Byron.
3. Oasis is a terribly underrated band.
4. John McCain will defeat Mitt Romney for the 2008 Republican Presidential Nomination by a slim margin. I have no idea who the Democratic nominee will be, but I strongly urge everyone reading this to vote for Joe Biden.

2006-11-21T22:21:00.000-06:00

I sit here, in my parents' basement, relaxing during Thanksgiving break. Well, I guess that's a lie. I'm not really relaxing, I'm kinda just marinating, waiting for school to start back up. It's weird to see your home (including the house, and the town, and the state, and the region) as a temporary destination instead of someplace I belong. I did not even feel this way when I was in college and came home for short vacations and major holidays.

Returned to the high school I attended (CCHS) today, namely to visit a few teachers but also out of sheer curiosity as to how the students compared to my current little angels. Of course, the most apparent difference is in discipline; for the brief time I was at CCHS I saw no major issues. Or minor issues. Damnit, the kids didn't even speak out of turn during the class I attended. Now, of course I didn't expect anything to happen, especially since I attended a Catholic school, but I was really hoping for something to occur. I was sitting at the back of the classroom, and for a few moments I indulged my fantasies by silently plotting how I could get the kids to revolt and force my old history teacher to deal with an insurrection. Alas, such thoughts remained fantasies.

Perhaps it was their strict adherence to the school's uniform policy, but the students at CCHS seemed older, more mature, and better prepared for class. In short, I was jealous, not so much for myself but for my own students. If they had caring parents, if they had stable families, if they had a reason to believe a good education could lead to a more successful life. If my students posessed these and a hundered other advantages enjoyed by the students I saw today, perhaps my students would walk with the same confidence and swagger that I see amongst the kids who currently attend my high school alma-mater.

Also went down to Harvard to do some research. While sitting in the Law Library, I realized my students would never have the opportunity to see the inside of this building or, I guess more accurately, be involved with such a respected, powerful institution (education or otherwise). These were, quite literally, halls of power through which my students will never stride. I had no feelings about this realization, it was just something that came to my mind.

I do not expect my students to attend Harvard, or Stanford, or Oxford, or any other similar institution. Heck, even if one of my students was able to get into an Ivy, I am not sure I would want him or her to attend that school. It's a completely different world; they're not ready for it and the world would eat them up a la last night's leftovers. My hope for my best students is that they graduate and are able to attend a regional school: Ole Miss, Mississippi State, Tulane, Memphis, LSU, Alabama, Auburn, etc. I think it would be great for them to get outside of the state of Mississippi and the South in general, but I am not sure if college would be the optimum time. I love my students too much; for the most part they are good, sweet kids who are - for lack of a better word - very simple. Though the circumstances of their lives may become extremely complex, particularly at home, my students have a very simple understanding of the world beyond Hinds County, Mississippi. The vast, vast majority (maybe all) of them would not be able to handle attending an internationally-renowned university in their current intellectual, social, and cultural state. They'd be devoured. The community must first take baby steps. A grandfather goes to Ole Miss and becomes a small-scale entrepreneur. The son attends Vanderbilt and becomes a lawyer. Assuming a solid intellectual and cultural nurturing from his father and grandfather, the grandson would then be ready to tackle the cream of the crop.

Yes, I realize I sound like a modern-day version of Booker T. Washington. I realize that my opinions rest on a graduated solution to an injustice. I could be wrong; in fact, I am sure many will tell me that I am. But, sitting in the reading room at Harvard was a shocking wakeup call that reminded me of just how much my community (and perhaps the majority of Mississippi) has to grow before it can send its most prepared sons into the halls of power.

--
An aside: I finally laid eyes on my diploma upon arriving home for Thanksgiving. It's a small piece of paper, which is a bit disappointing. However: it is also written completely in Latin, a fact which got me unnecessarily excited.

2006-11-11T09:23:00.001-06:00

I was getting into "mean Mr. E" mode to begin discussing my classroom management, but I then read this and became so excited at the possibilities that I turned into "crazy, giddy Mr. E" instead. To wit: Schilling claims he is retiring after this year and the Sox need another stud to back up Beckett. Daisuke Matsuzaka could be that man. (As an aside: Beckett will be in the running for the AL Cy Young at the end of the 2007 season. You heard it here first)

Anyway, back to the business at hand. I believe that my classroom management has gotten worse over the past couple of weeks. It is almost as if the students have decided that they should give me another test, just to see if I would actually stick with my discipline plan. Really? Do we have to do this again?

What is especially disturbing is the fact that I have experienced the most discipline problems in classes that were previously calm and completely organized. A student who was poorly behaved during the first two weeks of school, and then who turned around, decided to once again challenge me this week and received to detentions.

Two weeks ago, the school put a new discipline policy into action, one that changed not really was to be punished, but rather howthe school would punish those indiscretions. This made it difficult to enforce every rule in one class for two weeks, but I like to think that I did the best I could. I resolved to always enforce my consequences in my fifth and sixth periods. Doing such in 5th period was relatively easy; I think they are my favorite class. 5th period always completes require assignments, hardly ever actus out, and when a student in that class does get in trouble, it is always for something that is somewhat funny, not something that was done with the intent of hurting either me or a classmate. 6th period was a little more difficult; they remain, despite improvements, my most difficult class (where both discipline and academics are concerned). There are a few success stories in this class; specificallyl, one girl who never paid attention has come around in the past three weeks and seems to actually like me now (she even started shaking my hand when she enters my room, somthing she had always refused to do before this turnaround). However, the other students - 5 or 6 of them in particular - are not doing so well. They fail to listen to me, fail to complete thier homework, and show me very little respect. It was my hope that the new school discipline policy would help me deal with these students. Unfortunately, I am not sure it has fulfilled this hope.

When they originally heard about the new discipline policy (on a Friday), my students openly debated revolt. The terms "alternative school," "fascism," and "prison system" were thrown around liberally by the students of RHS. "I'm totally transferring," said at least one young girl. On Monday, however, such brash comments had subsided. I believe that my classroom management has been somewhat underminded, rather than helped, by the new, mandatory discipline plan. Students see the new plan, and immediately think, "how can I test this? What are the limits?" I hope, though I am not sure, that I have responded to these challenges with consistency and fairness.

2006-10-16T22:46:00.000-05:00

For me, the worst feeling in the world is frustration. This feeling can overtake me anywhere. Sometimes it creeps up during understandable situations, such as when I cannot get my class to understand some concept I consider ridiculously simple. However, I can also get frustrated during the simplest situations, such as when I can’t thread a needle or pull the backing off a label or bumper sticker. After I have spent a few minutes being unable to divide the sticker from its backing, I’ll get a certain feeling in my chest. This feeling causes me to throw the sticker on the ground, probably cuss, and even physically attack other inanimate objects, such as nearby chairs and tables. The feeling combines the helplessness of an unexpected breakup with the irritation of an itch that cannot be satisfied, regardless of how much scratching.

I bring up this feeling because it is exactly how I feel when I sit in my graduate school classes at Ole Miss. I have not been this frustrated in a classroom since I was in 6^th grade, when my Social Studies teacher would spend the entire class having students take turns reading from the textbook. It takes my professors five hours to give information that I could grasp and understand in thirty minutes. With one notable exception, every academic leader I have had at Ole Miss has been a major disappointment. They provide no challenges, intellectual or otherwise. I have gotten into the habit of either “phoning-in” or simply ignoring homework assignments because I view them as a heinous waste of my precious time. The issue about homework is not the fact that I would rather be doing something that I find entertaining – hanging out with friends, reading a novel, or watching a movie – it is the fact that I could be doing something productive. I could be planning lessons. Or grading essays. Or calling parents. Or redecorating my room. Or creating tests. Or figuring out how to help my students who are in danger of failing or dropping out of school.

It is not that I have a problem spending time doing work for graduate school; I have never, and will never, shy away from any academic challenge. That said, I want my work to be worthwhile. There is no point in spending time on homework which is, basically, busy work. I wish that my professors would take the advice they so eagerly give to their students: make sure the class is involved, make sure you aren’t just “talking at” your class,

When I made the decision to join the Teacher Corps, I thought the graduate school courses would be a highlight of the program, a welcome respite from the daily grind of teaching. The opposite has become true. I fear the weekends we have to travel to Ole Miss to take classes. I can’t stand every moment we spend in the Education Building. My head aches, my thoughts wander, and my chest is filled with that awful feeling of frustration.

I do not know if this lack of academic rigor is more a reflection of the University of Mississippi, the Mississippi Teacher Corps, or education graduate schools in general. Regardless of which institution is at fault, I recently told my father that I regard the entire process as a farce. I truly hope that this is a symptom of the first semester, and not a disease that ravages the entire program.

Next semester we will be taking a class with a gentleman who, in my limited contact with him, has appeared to be intelligent, intellectual, thoughtful, caring, and dedicated. This cocktail of attributes makes him an extremely rare ace in the School of Education’s deck; I only hope the rest of the professors I encounter at this school are not jokers.

2006-10-14T08:24:00.000-05:00

To fulfill a requirement for EDSE 600, I gave one of my classes a learning styles inventory. Although I see the concept of "learning styles" somewhat limited and a little touchy-feely, it was my hope that I could learn something about my students from such a survey. In this vein, I decided to give the inventory to my "worst" class, the one that seems to have not only the most discipline problems, but also the lowest achievement levels.

Most of my students seemed to be visual learners, which does not surprise me. More recent generations - mine certainly incuded - watch so many hours of television, and spend so many hours on the computer, and play so many hours of video games that I am not surprised they would associate the distribution of information with visual media.

Auditory being the second-most commonly occuring learning style amongst this group of students. I don't really know how to interpret this data, but perhaps it speaks to the passivity of current teenage life. Listening, like watching, is an activity that does not require any kind of physical movement. Given the lack of physical activity amongst this generation of students, I am not surprised that auditory and visual are the preferred learning styles.

What was most fascinating to me was that the absolute worst students, in this my worst class (so, the bottom of the barrel in 10th grade) were tactile learners. I was really interested in seeing the responses of two students in particular because they are doing so poorly in my class, in regards to both discipline and academics. Both of these students were tactile learners. The fact that both these students feel the need to always attempt to leave their seats or make comments without raising their hand should have foreshadowed their preference for tactile learning; their bodies and mouths always have to keep moving.

To be honest, I don't really know how to react to this information. If I was a science teacher, or a math teacher, or even a history teacher, perhaps I could design lesson plans to fit these students' preference for tactile learning. However, English is English. There are certain things these students have to learn, and there are certain ways they must learn them. This is particularly true in regards to reading comprehension, with which the students need the most help. Though I try to vary my lessons as much as possible, learning is hard work. If the students don't want to work in the first place, it doesn't really matter if they are tactile, auditory, or visual learners.

2006-09-19T22:02:00.000-05:00

I get on a flight to Providence tomorrow evening. I cannot wait to see old friends and family, but I can already predict that my students will never leave my mind.

I have all my students keep a journal in which they respond to prompts I have given them. One prompt asks the students to recall their hardest decision. One of my favorite students, a boy I'll call Mansor, had a particularly striking response: "choosing between living with my mom or living with my dad." Though I realize this is a decision that must be made by many children who have divorced parents, the story of how Mansor had to make the decision has stayed on my mind since I read his journal.

Immediately following a domestic dispute in Mansor's house (during which his parents fought physically as Mansor, his brother, and his sister tried to pull them apart), Mansor's mother scooped him up and placed him in the back seat of the family's car. Bags packed, she told the children she was leaving their father for good. Screaming for his father, Mansor opened the car door as his mother was backing out of the driveway and jumped out of the car, running back to the house and his father. A few weeks later, Mansor, his parents, and his siblings appeared in family court. Upon being asked with whom he wanted to live, Mansor picked his father while his siblings chose their mother. He was nine years old.

Though many (myself included) may, at first, doubt some of the details in this story, I have no reason to believe this boy would lie to me, particularly in his journal. All I am left thinking is how I would have deal with that situation, or a similar one, at that age, and how such a decision would effect the rest of my life. I am sure that I would not be able to be as happy and outgoing as this young man seems to be. Many of my students drive me crazy on a daily basis. But there certainly are moments when I stand in awe of them. Those are the moments that make this journey so bearable, even on the bad days.

2006-09-16T10:10:00.000-05:00

For one of the Teacher Corps graduate school classes we were asked to read A Framework for Understanding Poverty by Ruby K. Payne, Ph.D. I usually keep a personal policy of avoiding books by an author who insists on adding the "Ph.D." to the end of their name, as I am commonly bothered by individuals who find it necessary to continually remind those around them that they have their doctorate. Payne, Ph.D.'s photograph on the back of the book was equally disconcerting: her red blazer and feathered colored hair were both disturbingly premeditated and the entire composition was meticulously airbrushed. Alas, this reading was required. So, Ruby K. Payne, Ph.D., here I come...

Like many other sociological examinations, Payne, Ph.D.'s book tries to get the reader to imagine what it would be like to live in poverty. So, the book is basically all about perspective or, more specifically, how an individual's perspective alters how they relate to the world. To emphasize this point, Payne, Ph.D. develops lists of "the Hidden Rules for each Socioeconomic Class." For example, one of the lower class rules is, "do you know which rummage sales have the best values?"; a middle class rule asked, "do you know how to get your children onto the best soccer and basketball teams?"; and a upper class rule asked, "do you know how to hire the proper designer to plan your home's holiday decorations?" While these lists are not an exact science (I am not so sure if poor people value their family any less than their wealthy counterparts), they certainly got me thinking about how each class has their own secret world. This secret world allows them to conceptualize not only those who share their economic status, but also those who are above and below them in status and wealth. In this sense, the class system in the United States is much more defined than I ever thought it was; in more ways than I can envision off the top of my head, one can relate it to India's caste system.

Another thing that surprised me was the degree to which debt is a self-fulfilling prophecy. "Spiraling debt" sounds like a catchphrase Suze Orman would use to sell her new financial self-help book, but Payne, Ph.D. actually makes it a feasible framework. Basically, Payne, Ph.D. outlines the ways in which debt accumulates - both slowly and quickly - until those who are in debt cannot climb out of their hole. It made me think of that old math question - would you rather a $25,000 cheque on the first of the month, or to get a 1 cent cheque on the first day of the month and then have your cheque double each day until the 30th of the month. It's amazing how fast the money (or the lack of it) compiles.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the book, however, was the lower class' complete lack of support systems. About a month ago, I posted an entry on this site that examined how much my friends and family had helped me over the past few months, especially since I am so far away from home. I would go insane - or worse - without them. Payne, Ph.D. clearly shows that poor individuals are often at a complete lack for familial support. More than any other aspect of poverty, this is what would kill me.

2006-09-13T20:14:00.000-05:00

Difficult day in school today. I thought my 6th period was coming along, but as soon as I tried something different with them - I put them in pairs to peer edit - there were problems. Kids were off topic left and right, they were talking about everything but for their essays, and it seemed as if nobody was following my very explicit directions. It has been a pretty difficult week for me and I almost lost my temper once or twice, but I guess this job teaches patience if nothing else. What perhaps added to my frustration was the fact that my 5th period had fielded the same exact set of directions smoothly not fifteen minutes prior. Although I do think the quality of student is exponentially better in my 5th period, I still fault myself for not being able to handle that 6th period.

My mood fluctuates a hundred times each day, but the past week has seemed to include more than its fair share of valleys. Just when I thought I was headed in the right direction, numerous circumstances have combined to turn my ship into harsh waters. I am battling a nasty fit of homesickness, and I seem to blame every problem I encounter on my surroundings (the state I have come to call *#&$!@% Mississippi) instead of myself.

True to this recent development of constant pouting, this entry itself has become obnoxiously whiney. I sometimes become angry with myself for such moods and Teacher Corps for encouraging me to complain. It seems like many people in the program like to hear themselves complain, and I hate to think I am becoming one of them. We are made to think that teaching is such a difficult pursuit that it is acceptable to continually hark on those tribulations. And as I sit here and whine, I am becoming increasingly angry with myself for even entertaining and verbalizing those complaints. The only thing that bothers me more about other people's bitching and moaning is when I lend my voice to that unproductive chorus. I don't know what to do to rebound from this slump, but I know if I am going to remain in this program and in this profession I must do all I can to find the energy that brought me to Mississippi.

2006-09-06T16:47:00.000-05:00

Before seeing the school at which I am teaching, I expected to encounter a dirty, hardly inhabitable building that had not been cleaned or refurbished in a generation. I expected my peer teachers to be borderline illiterate, my principal to be incompetent and overbearing, and my students to be unwilling to learn. All of these expectations were a result of what the Teacher Corps told me: expect the worst. My situation is not ideal, particularly in regards to many of my students, but it is not nearly as bad as it could be. My principal is supportive and kind. My peer teachers are largely competent and interesting, and I find it easy to avoid those who I do not like. To my great surprise and delight, I have encountered a number of teachers who are interesting, intelligent, and young. In short, they are excellent resources to have in the same building. Those teachers are made up of a core of Teacher Corps alums, and it is great to see the Corps and those they train are making a difference.

The one major disappointment is my students. Although most are not nearly as disrespectful as I expected, some are more disrespectful than I ever could have imagined. Almost all of them are less intelligent than I had hoped. More disturbing is the fact that so many have no idea how to achieve their largely ambiguous or unrealistic goals (NBA star, famous singer). Additionally, the have no idea how to reach those goals (for example, the kid who wants to play in the NFL isn’t even on the football team). Most realize that college is loosely important, but cannot define the root or meaning of that importance. At their worst, my students are ignorant, intolerant, and not open to learning anything new.

But, like anything, I must search to find the best in any situation. I only hope that I can find the best in my kids before they wear me into the ground.

2006-08-19T23:06:00.000-05:00

I'd have to say my first day of school was relatively smooth, despite my dread that I would fumble my words, drop my lunch in my lap, or fail some other random test administered by my peers, the administration, or my students. All in all, I was deathly afraid of belying my age, inexperience, and fright. It felt like a first date.

Though I was supposed to review the student handbook, I spent all my class time going over my own classroom rules. The kids were quiet, but I think their silence was less of a result of respectfulness and more a consequence of first day jitters. I enjoyed seeing the shock on my students' faces when I explained my second consequence: copying an entire page from the dictionary. Upon hearing this, one of my students raised her hand and asked, "even the pictures on the page?" I thought in my head, "wow, that would be a ton of work," and immediately told the class, "yes, even the pictures on the page," as if I'd planned it that way all along.

It was funny how easily I could predict future problem areas in regards to both students and classes. From the first moments of the class, I saw that 6th period was going to provide a disciplinary challenge. In addition, I was able to recognize which students would be at the heart of that problem. I am sorry to say, three weeks into the school year, how correct I was about 6th period and certain students.

I can't really remember much about the rest of my first day, but I do remember being exhausted at the end, though not feeling tired during the day itself (as a result of nervous energy). My first day notwithstanding, I do have a complete lack of energy at the end of the day (including my last two periods of the day). In addition to being on my feet all day, I have usually arrived at school a half hour before whichever time is required, and I almost always stay at least two hours after the final bell has rung. Not that this schedule is uncommon for a teacher; on the contrary, I would say that the vast majority of my peers (especially the younger members of my school's staff) log far longer hours than what is required by the district. Rather, I record this schedule as an explanation for my exhaustion. My two roommates (also teachers) are also sapped of energy when they arrive home at the end of the schoolday. We sit in our living room, watching SportsCenter and trading war stories over our quickly-prepared dinners (usually Abner's for Tex, value-brand HotPockets for 'Bama, and hot dogs and beans for myself). What is most disappointing about this routine is that I have found no time to read for pleasure. My lack of energy in the evening is such that I can never lift myself from the couch and stop watching crap on TV or surfing the internet; what little energy I do have left is devoted to lesson planning for the next day.

For some reason this lifestyle - or way of eating, more specifically - makes me think of my grandmother's kitchen: small, cramped, a bit dingy, the floor covered in linoleum made to resemble bright yellow cobblestones. It was in that kitchen that I first tasted many traditional "American" foods, or, at least, it is where I first remember tasting them. Steak and cheese subs from this place called Nick's, circus peanuts, white chocolate, hamburger helper, tuna fish subs with pickles and tomatos, chocolate eclairs, and bacon and eggs (where the eggs were cooked in the bacon fat). Most of the food seemed to come from a can or a box; most meals were simple, fast, easy to make. Totally unlike the home I grew up in, which always had delishious 10-step dishes, fresh fruits and vegetables, and exotic concauctions. With what I am eating these days, I feel as if I am living in my grandmother's kitchen.

2006-08-06T16:15:00.000-05:00

It is now Saturday afternoon, and I have been teaching for two weeks. I hope that "my first two weeks as a teacher" is enough to excuse my lack of posting over the past month. Over the next few days, I hope to make up for my electronic absence by posting a number of installments that describe my first days and weeks as a high school English teacher.

On the Thursday before the Monday classes began, we had "Meet the Teachers" afternoon at my high school. From 1 in the afternoon to 6:00 in the evening, I remained in my classroom while parent after parent streamed in, wanting to meet the new teacher from Boston (a few parents tried their hand at what they perceived as a "Boston accent" - I didn't have the heart to tell them they sounded more like retarded seagulls and less like Murph from Revere). About 2/3rds of the parents brought their children - my students - with them, so I had the opportunity to meet about 30 of my kids. On a couple of occasions, students entered my classroom sans parents. Nearly all the parents seemed cordial and supportive, and the questions they asked were pointed and pertinent.

For the large part, the students seemed very respectful and attentive. Though much of this respect and attention may have been largely a result of the fact that their parents were standing not five feet from them, my students still seemed genuinely excited for the upcoming school year. Of those I met on Thursday, the students I liked the best were those who exhibited a bit of personality and were willing to playfully "challenge" either me or their parents. It's wonderful to see their brains working hard to develop a witty retort or intelligent comment.

I met a number of parents and students who would be new to my school, as they had made the decision to transfer from one of the local private (read: white) academies to their public high school. The parents - and, surprisingly, some of my students - were very forthcoming about the academic deficiencies of their previous schools. One student readily admitted that she had not covered any grammar or vocabulary in her freshman English class at some local academy.

The willingness of those parents to remove their children from the private (white) academies and place them in the local public school is heartening; it points to two positive developments. First, the public schools in my district - in particular, my high school - are improving enough to make them a viable option for parents who were previously skittish about entrusting their children to our care. Second, it perhaps hints at a revolution in the thinking of this new generation of Mississippi parents; does the willingness of those parents to send their white sons and daughters to school with black children mean that they are finally either a) valuing issues of education over issues of race, or b) race is dying as an issue altogether? I don't know the answer, but it is nice that the evidence allows for the formation of such a hypothesis.

One of the parents who visited my classroom is deaf. To see daughter (who will be in my Accelerated English II class) lovingly translate for mother was a heartening experience, particularly when those of us in the Corps are continually reminded of this area's broken familial bonds.

I realize that my visitors on that Thursday probably represented the best of my community, as they are the parents who are taking an active interest in the education of their children. However, that caveat did not damper my excitement for the first day of classes and the entire school year.

2006-07-27T16:07:00.000-05:00

Back to blogging after an extended layoff caused first by lack of time, then by lack of electric power, and then lack of internet. But, now I'm back in the saddle. It's amazing how disconnected I felt even though I only didn't have internet for 5 days.

School district orientation was this week; I only had two days of orientation, as compared to the entire week for some of my peers in the Corps, and I am thankful for that. Despite the fact that it was well-organized, the orientation was still boring and repeated information I already knew. I was surprised (as well as disappointed, perhaps?) to hear the quality of the questions my peer teachers were asking. It seems like 70% of them did not need to be asked; they could have been answered just by listening and thinking more carefully. I hope this lack of thought does not bode ill for my students.

Since I have missed the news for the past few days, here is my commentary on what I have just read. Although I am a Red Sox fan(atic), I still feel bad for A-Rod. Sure, he plays the game like a pansy and Babe Ruth would eat him if they were teammates. Sure, he tried to slap the ball outta Arroyo's hand during the 2004 ALCS. Sure, he's not clutch, and is totally over-rated and over-paid, but the guy has hit 451 career home runs! And he's 30! Nobody else had 375 homers at age 30! And yet he gets booed at the Stadium. Just shows how little Yankees fans know about baseball- they really gotta stop booing the guy. Also, I believe he leads the league in 2-out RBIs. So, although he does choke in the big games, his status as a major run producer and scorer cannot be doubted. That said, I'd take the TRUE 2005 AL MVP (Big Papi) over A-Rod any day.

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There's a blog entry that has been swimming in my head for awhile. It's a long, rambling river of thoughts about family - how it is made, how it is retained, what it does, what it means. I don't have the time or energy to write that blog right now, maybe I won't have the energy to write it for awhile or even ever. But the key is this: everyone needs a support system, and we are most likely to call that support system "family."

My biological family has always been my primary support system. All issues, hopes, dreams, goals, fears, challenges, and celebrations run through them. The greatest effect my parents have had on me - what I would call their greatest achievement as parents - was getting me to believe in the importance of education and family. Over the years, my family has changed and grown. I have picked up many "uncles," "aunts," and "brothers" along the way, and I am happy for it. Since moving so far away from that family - biological and otherwise - it seems I have grown closer to them (as evidenced by last month's phone bill). I lean on them for support and advice in all kinds of situations, but more importantly I depend on them to provide smiles and laughter. The responsibility to keep me smiling rests the most heavily, and is fulfilled most consistently, by my "brothers," one I’ve known for 20 years, five others I have only known for two years (but it seems fifty times that long). I shudder to think where I'd be without them.

I also shudder to think of the "family" situations of my students. Not only biological families, but also the emotional support system "families." Do my students have what I have? Do my students have what I need to survive?

2006-07-16T12:32:00.000-05:00

Last week, during the 'TEAM' teaching practice lessons, we had another opportunity to film ourselves teaching. For class, our assignment was to evaluate ourselves, using the same sheet and criteria utilized by the TEAM teachers (who were evaluating us).

The lesson I recorded was the continuation of a lesson I had taught the day before, one that asked the students to critically analyze Martin Luther King, Jr.'s last speech, "I've Been to the Mountaintop." The goal was to introduce students to persuasive language by having them encounter what is perhaps the best speech by a man who was the 20th century's best persuasive speaker. The speech is surrounded by an additional shroud of drama and nostalgia considering that King was assassinated the day after giving it. Those of you who know the last paragraph realize how poignantly eerie the speech is, particularly when viewing a video recording of King delivering it.

It's too bad my lesson could not live up to the reading material I had chosen. Though the teacher who witnessed and graded my lesson that day seemed to enjoy it, I had major issues with it after watching the video recording. My delivery is still weak, my lecture time still punctuated with various "um"s, "ah"s, and pregnant pauses. Overall, my oral presentation is so awful because you can see from miles off how under-prepared, nervous, and unconfident I am.

Though all the required parts of the lesson were present - bellwork, set, formal and informal assessments, and closure - I feel as if the lesson did not truly deliver any information. My assessments did not assess what the lesson was supposedly teaching, and though disparate portions of the lesson were related in my own mind, I am sure my students would have had difficulty making connections on their own. The students were not nearly as involved as I had hoped they'd be when lesson planning, and I fear that I have fallen into the trap of designing lesson plans that are, as Ben Guest says, "teacher-centered" instead of "student-centered." The problem is, with English, I don't know how to escape from this trap. Having students work on their own is all fine and good, but I fear that their skill are so weak that they will not be learning anything unless I am beating it into their heads. And there's the rub.

In short: I felt like the students weren’t learning anything, which is a consistent problem with how I view my lessons. Regardless of how much time I spend lesson planning, regardless of how interested my students are or seem, I still fear that they are not learning enough, or anything. Maybe - at least, I hope - this is just my lack of understanding of my students. Maybe I expect to see something, some spark of understanding, that only happens in movies and dreams. There is a huge difference between having students interested and having students learning. Though I can accomplish the former, I fear that I will never achieve the latter.

2006-07-13T23:17:00.000-05:00

Somebody from my class quit Teacher Corps earlier this week. It would be very easy to sit here and bash that person, but it would also be a waste of time. Not really much that can be done now but hope that the district can fill her position before school begins in two (!) weeks.

Perhaps it took a bevy of courage to leave the program, perhaps it would have taken more courage to stay. I don't know. I can't tell you what this girl was thinking. I do know that the people I most respect stick things out when they hit a rough patch. Best advice I ever received: "The true mark of a man is how he reacts when everything around him is falling apart." Then again, I know from experience that those helping others must always be mindful of their own feelings and desires; if they don't fully believe in the task at hand they will not perform as well as they should or could. This fact certainly holds in regards to those people working with children; a kid can see through your bullsh*t quicker than anyone.

As for the person who left, I can't say I knew her well, or really at all. She did not seem to make a concerted effort to integrate herself into the Teacher Corps Class of 2006. There was a certain social awkwardness displayed by this young woman from day one. I think you could make an argument that this occurrence is good evidence pointing toward the need for interviews in the selection process, but perhaps such a connection would be an example of me seizing on a singular situation that proves my point. Regardless, I hope all works out well for her, but mostly I hope the kids whom she was scheduled to teach this year are assigned a teacher that will excite them, inspire them, challenge them, and do a better job than this young woman would have.

2006-07-02T20:01:00.000-05:00

Over the course of summer school we were supposed to videotape ourselves teaching and then react to what we saw. I thought it was a pretty solid idea, given that perception and reality are two completely different things when it comes to public speaking.

I decided to videotape my first of three 50-minute lessons on Wednesday. I had conceptualized my day as "the essay as a museum," and used an extended metaphor about the planning and building of an art museum to get across the main points of "building" an essay: outlining as the blueprint, museum patrons as your audience, etc. The first period - the one I videotaped - was all about the planning/blueprint of an essay, and we spent all 50 minutes designing an outline to answer the following question:

"A group of local parents has become concerned over the content of your class after they learned Mr. E. had assigned “The Tell-Tale Heart” for reading. The school board will meet tomorrow night to decide whether or not “The Tell-Tale Heart” should be banned from local schools. You have been asked to make a presentation at that meeting so that the members of the school board can hear a student opinion. What do you tell them?

"Please outline and write a well-developed essay that makes a strong, clear, and well-supported persuasive argument either for or against banning the short story from school. The essay should be in the traditional five-paragraph format: An introductory paragraph with a good topic sentence, three body paragraphs giving evidence and support for your argument, and a closing paragraph that provides a good review of your argument."

Given that we had read "The Tell-Tale Heart" a week earlier, I thought the lesson topic tied prior knowledge together with a somewhat new approach (most of these kids had never encountered the 5-paragraph essay before this summer school).

To be honest, I thought my lesson plan for that day was the best I had developed the entire summer, and looked forward to viewing the film of myself teaching it. I immediately noticed that I continue to stumble over numerous words, use horrible grammar at points, and commonly make some words run into each other. This, more than anything, is what I must work on. Every time I pause to say "umm...", to think of a good example, or to plan my next move, my students have the opportunity to do thinking of their own, which is commonly along the lines of, "what should I do Friday night?" instead of, "is the 'Tell-Tale Heart' really that violent?"

Moreover, I am not as exciting as I thought I would be. I constantly try to alter my voice, sing, dance, and yell to keep my students involved. Perhaps that lesson did not lend itself to such theatrics, but I found that I bored myself. After a month of teaching high school I realize this: if I had to go back to high school and be a student again, I'd go insane. Paul Simon had it right: "When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, it's a wonder I can think at all..." (Kodachrome is a great song, but I think I'd take the Boxer over it any day. My Dad used "I Am A Rock" to teach metaphor when he was teaching high school English. I think I might have to try that, though my students would probably think I was alive when the song was penned.). Speaking of high school: even my extremely limited experience teaching high school has shown me bunches about my own high school teachers. Ms. Moynihan (sophomore and senior year English) was excellent. A little quiet and not as demanding as I would have liked, but really a great teacher. I remember a ton from her two classes, and I actually read the books we were assigned. On the flip side, I was right about Mr. Welch, my junior year English teacher. He really was awful, just a terrible, terrible teacher who thought he was great. At least Mr. Cowie knew he was a poor excuse for a teacher and had no qualms about the fact that he had been phoning it in since 1973.

Anyway, why don't we get back to the original point? What I enjoyed about my teaching style was the fact that I tried to involve every student, made it a point to walk around the classroom and talk to all my students while they were completing their outlines. If you can get to a kid, look him or her in the eyes, and show them that you're willing to work through whatever problems they are having, they'll put their faith in you and actually learn something. In this sense, I will try to envision my class as a series of 1-on-1 interactions, not a 1-on-30 interaction. I thought I also did a pretty good job with classroom management; there was very little chatter and nobody fell asleep.

As far as my persona in the classroom and my ability to speak more clearly, I am not sure how to go about improving. However, I hope that an awareness of the problem will lead to an implicit improvement.

2006-07-02T12:45:00.000-05:00

A few thoughts on a lazy Sunday morning, some of which are from a letter I just wrote to a pair of my professors from Brown...

Summer school ended on Friday. Though I am happy I will have a month's respite from getting up at 5:45 AM, I was sad to see the classes end. I felt as if I had only really began to understand my students over the last week of school; they were now comfortable joking around and being honest with me. They seemed to look forward to my lessons and trust that I would not put them to sleep. Though I thought it would be inappropriate for summer school and eventually decided against it, I did want to give my email address to a number of my students - TG, TM, TJ, HS, and CW especially - to keep up with them during the school year. Some of them are basketball players, so perhaps I can read the papers and keep up with them that way. On the last day of school I commented to TM that, although I enjoyed having him in class, I wanted to see him perform well enough so that he would not be in my summer school class next year. "Oh don't worry, Mr. E," he told me, "I'm gonna be in the League next year." I told him I'd send the Mavericks and Celtics scouts advance warning of a hot young prospect coming out of Holly Springs, Mississippi.

Aspects of Mississippi are growing on me, other aspects are beginning to really attack my nerves. The people of this state are very kind, very open, and very welcoming. My summer school students, in particular, were always smiling. Tomorrow evening there will be a 4^th of July square dance in the center of town, with a traditional jug/string band. The area seems to have a certain down-home goodness that brings to mind the music of (Bruce Springsteen's recently released folk album) The Seeger Sessions.

That said, traditionalism has its price. Racial issues remain huge here, perhaps exacerbated by the fact that nobody seems willing to discuss them. A bright pink elephant that stands in every room in the South. Last night I was at a bar, and at closing time (11:45 PM on Saturday night, so that there is absolutely no serving of alcohol on Sunday, God forbid), the bar flashed the lights, rang a bell, and began to play “Dixie,” the nostalgic, slower version that plays during the end of Gone With the Wind. The crowd – 90% white – began to sing along, sway their arms, and perhaps dream of a better time when the other 10% of the bar’s patrons were picking cotton. More fascinating was the fact that “Dixie” immediately turned into “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” a song commonly recognized as the North’s counterpoint to “Dixie” during the Civil War. Is there hope yet? Could reconciliation be in sight?!?!

Also maddening, on the topic of the Civil War, is the monument to the Confederate dead that stands in downtown Oxford. “To the Confederate dead,” it reads, “they died for a just and holy cause.” Hmmm, what was that cause again?

Across the entire South, many cars display small bumper stickers that sport a large white “W” atop a black field. Underneath that single letter are printed the words, “THE PRESIDENT.” I am not exactly sure what these bumper stickers are supposed to mean, but to me they seem to say, “George W. Bush is the President and, right or wrong, his decisions are law, so keep your opposition to yourself and respect his authority.” Maybe I am reading too much into this, but the bumper sticker seems to represent a certain mindless subservience and lack of critical reasoning that would allow an individual to support the current administration.

Sorry to inject politics into this discussion, but it is all part of the journey.

2006-06-29T13:16:00.000-05:00

Excepting schools in the city of Jackson, corporal punishment is legal in the Mississippi public school system. Please take the time to re-read that last sentence. I was not made aware of this fact until about a week after arriving in Oxford, and upon hearing it I was (ignorantly?) shocked.

Perhaps more shocking to me is the implicit (albeit sometimes begrudging) acceptance corporal punishment enjoys from the leaders, alumni, and second-year members of the Mississippi Teacher Corps. Some second-years see it as an embarrassing joke, many seem to accept it because they must, others pragmatically support it because they think it works, and some of my peers seem to even take a smattering of joy in assigning “licks” to their students (from what I understand, punishment is most commonly administered by each school’s principal or assistant principal). I have asked my teachers and program leaders to engage in a classroom-wide discussion on this topic, and though they have always been welcoming to the idea, such a discussion has yet to happen. Whenever it comes up in class, the teachers’ eyes seem to roll and the usual answer is, “We’ll have that discussion sometime later.” The discussion/debate seems to carry a stigma because it has been both extended and heated in the past; I can imagine idealistic, virgin members of the Corps being pitted against the program’s hardened veterans and Mississippi natives.

As you, dear reader, can no doubt tell from my tone, I am completely against allowing corporal punishment to exist in public schools. Why such a pacifistic stance (and a blissfully ignorant one, my detractors will tell you)? The simple answer is that I am not sure; I just feel that the policy is repugnant. I cannot recall being spanked as a child beyond one occasion, when I tried to kill my younger sister by throwing her off a rock wall. I was probably 8 or 9 at the time, she 6 or 7, and for the fruitless attempt at sister-cide I was spanked handily by my father. Other than on that occasion, my punishments were always based on making me feel isolated and ashamed of my actions: go sit on the steps for a half hour, go to your room, etc. Though I am clearly an impartial observer of my childhood self, I’d say the punishments worked and I turned out to be a relatively well-behaved child, all things considered. I have friends (some in Teacher Corps) who were consistently spanked as punishment as children, and they seem fine.

So why my opposition to this form of public corporal punishment? First of all, despite any legal ramifications of in loco parentis or any other Latin/Greek phrase, teachers are not the parents of their students. To me, this is a very clear, very simple concept. Teachers have no right to abuse, physically challenge, or physically confront their students in any way (but for the purpose of putting a stop to a greater physical confrontation that is brewing, such as a fight). Nor do I think parents have this right, but for the purposes of this discussion I am primarily concerned with legality.

Given, you say, but won’t parents beat or physically punish their children regardless of what happens at school? Yes; one of my close friends in the program who is a teaching partner for summer school and a Mississippi resident, told me last night that probably 95% of our students are beaten at home. Unfortunately, I have no control over such parental decisions; I an only concern myself with what I can change: my own school and my own classroom.

In a greater sense, and within the framework of this program, teachers should be better than their students’ parents. Many of the students that will be in my classroom have been party to domestic violence their entire lives. There is no need for them to be party to a similar system when they come to school. For children who have been pushed around their entire young lives, school should serve as a safe haven from the concerns of home life. And, by extension, teachers must serve as role models for their students, examples of what gentlemen and ladies truly are, as well as examples of what authority figures should be. Violence should never be associated with authority, particularly in a time and place where my students are becoming figures of authority themselves (parents, guardians of younger siblings and cousins, etc).

I know my idealism may sometimes seem ignorant, particularly when confronted with the opinions of veteran Teacher Corps members on this issue. However, I am totally unapologetic about my opinions in this particular instnace: they will not change, they will not falter, and I will do all I can to see that my students never have to face corporal punishment. And, if given the opportunity, I will work with state officials to end that practice in this state; somebody has to. To steal the motto of the 2004 Red Sox and apply it to the 2006 Teacher Corps: why not us?

2006-06-25T09:03:00.000-05:00

For EDSE 500 this week we were supposed to try new a new teaching strategy. Given my wariness about doing arts and crafts in my room, I decided against doing the "folding activities" and tried to get the students to work in groups. Maybe not the best of ideas. The class size had dwindled from 22 to 16 that day - most were playing hookie, one girl had to stay home because her 5 month-old son was sick - so we had four groups of four who were supposed to read "the Sniper" and then answer a number of questions related to the short story. Usually the kids don't like to read aloud in front of the entire class, so I figured that they might be more open to reading in small groups. I even found a story I thought they might find interesting, one that included some gore and some gunplay... and it went over like a lead zeppelin. The students would work when I was standing right over their group, but as soon as I moved to another part of the room the discussion would quickly change. The sound of their unsure reading voices would suddenly turn into a faster, slang-laced dialect that had no interest in communicating ideas about plot, theme, or conflict. Although I passed out an assignment to be completed as a group that was going to be graded, the students seemed to care less about their grades than they were about the latest gossip flying around the halls of Holly Springs High.

As my professor for EDSE 500, Ms. Monroe, and I discussed, perhaps I was not clear enough in explaining the rules for group work. Knowing my inability to give clear enough directions has been a constant problem for me, I tried to pace my words and give simple, forceful instructions about reading to one another, completing the worksheet, and staying on task. I suppose my efforts were not good enough. As I discussed with my friend Landon last night, my difficulties are probably the result of being unable to relate to students who cannot make the same common sense connections as those people with whom I usually interact. Meaning that, because of a lack of experiences and/or worldly knowledge, or perhaps as a result of the fact that their brains have not been sufficiently challenged over the past few years (perhaps their entire lifetimes), they cannot draw the same connections which are second nature to my friends from high school, college, Ole Miss, and even the high school students I taught in Providence. Though the "lesson" I took from this group-teaching experience was that I need to plan better and provide clearer directions when attempting group activities, I doubt that I will use extensive groupwork during the teaching year. In the future I will be much more likely to use pairs if I want the students to work together.

2006-06-18T19:00:00.000-05:00

As an assignment for one of our graduate school courses here, EDSE 500, we were told to implement one of three new teaching strategies we had learned in class. I chose to try one called "the Muddiest Part of the Lesson," in which each student would record, on an index card, which part of that day's lesson they considered the most confusing. Friday's lesson just happened to be on subject-verb agreement.

The new strategy totally flopped. When it came time to collect the cards at the end of class, not one student had written a question. While I would like to say that the amount of white I saw could be attributed to the clarity of my lesson, I know this is not true. What I think happened was that the students either 1) were too involved in the game we played for the second half of class (subject-verb agreement baseball, courtesy of Mr. Joel Hebert. None of my students have exceptional "subject-verb agreement fantasy baseball" values, but I'd watch out for Troy and Hannah in the later rounds of your draft); 2) weren't involved enough in the lesson to provide a detailed, critical analysis of what they were retaining and what they were not; 3) didn't want to do anything I had assigned, regardless of how simple; or 4) simply forgot about their index cards (even though I explained their purpose twice at the beginning of class and then referred to them again about halfway through). I am inclined to pick #4, particularly given the fact that I told the students they could keep their questions anonymous if they so chose and didn't get the requisite "Mr. Elias, are you gay?" or "Mr. Elias, where do babies come from?" responses.

What can I take away from this? Although one of my lead teachers mentioned that the students were as engaged during the "baseball game" as they had been during any lesson all summer, I still think I am lacking in student engagement. If they were truly learning (and learning actively, that is, as I want them to), they would have been able to critique my teaching and their involvement in some way, however minor. All of this is to say, I really need to do a better job of engaging my students.

2006-06-07T22:21:00.000-05:00

My first lesson is tomorrow. I will be teaching a brief section on "comparing and contrasting." Until I met the kids, it seemed like an overly simplistic topic for a 50-minute lesson (the topic was assigned to me), but after seeing our students in action I feel that such a lesson will be useful, even if it does prove to be review.

I'm nervous, and excited, and cautiously confident. It is sometimes difficult, even after only ten days in the program, to remember why I chose to take this position. To wit, becoming a member of the Teacher Corps was not only something I chose, but also something I dreamed about and actively pursued. Standing in my dormroom this morning, looking at the dirty floor, beat-up desks, and generally unfavorable conditions, it was easy to wonder where else I could be. This is not to say that the summer has been difficult thusfar; I know I "ain't seen nothin' yet." It is the knowledge of how difficult this job will be that makes me think twice.

I still have difficulty getting out of bed so early. On the bus ride to school each morning, I sit quietly, with few thoughts in my head, asleep but for the fact that my eyes are open. I watch the scenery pass as we head to Holly Springs: churches, shacks, fields, farms. Small homes. Untethered dogs. Men gathering the morning paper. I don't really see a poverty-stricken area, I just see lower-middle class America. I sigh, tired and wary of the teenaged mayhem that waits at the end of the bus ride. I imagine the other places I could be and the places I have been.

But then we get to school. And I step off the bus. And I leave everything that is bothering me behind, as I should. I walk into Holly Springs High School, looking at the kids who will sit in my class and other classes that day. They look at me and my attitude changes. I wonder how I could have ever doubted this decision, even if that doubt was less than lackluster, less than fleeting. I walk up the stairs to the English II classroom. I get excited for the day to come, for the lessons I will teach, for the questions I will answer, for the students that will challenge me. I breathe in. I wait for the students. I wait to teach. And teach I will.

2006-06-04T22:06:00.000-05:00

As an assignment for class we have to read a paper authored by a second-year member of the Corps and write a reaction to it. The paper I have selected is by my summer teaching mentor, Joel Hebert and is entitled “Rural Schools: Definite Problems and Possible Solutions.” I selected Joel’s paper because I believe him to be an excellent mentor; I have learned something about teaching from every interaction I have had with him. True to its title, Joel’s paper systematically examines the issues currently facing rural schools and the various opportunities to remedy those poor situations. He lists a number of obstacles that need to be overcome in order to improve rural schools, including general poverty, lack of parental education, smaller tax bases, declining populations, low teacher salaries, and transportation difficulties.

While Joel is extremely perceptive in determining the current issues, his diagnosis fails to consider numerous underlying issues that are central to the failure of rural schools. As a result, Joel’s plan for improving rural schools seems to fall short, particularly in its usage of and reliance on technology. Specifically troublesome is Joel’s misguided endorsement of distance-based learning (“A student in rural Mississippi can receive instruction from a teacher in Boston, Massachusetts”), a development that would only highlight the disconnect between student and teacher. During these students’ developmental years, true learning can only occur when students can witness excellent teaching firsthand. Additionally, good teachers will also serve as positive role models for their students (I remember first realizing this aspect of teacher-as-role-model when I watched Sidney Poitier in “To Sir With Love”).

That said, technology does have a place in the rural classroom and should be used to bring the resources of major institutions of research – such as internationally-renowned museums and research facilities – to the rural student. To facilitate this connection, public schools should be partnered with local public universities (Delta schools with Ole Miss, Gulf Coast schools with Southern Miss, etc.) to facilitate the sharing of academic materials. Where distance learning does have value is in its ability to educate rural teachers, who do not commonly have the monetary or geographic access to top-notch graduate programs, conferences, and seminars. A similar pairing of public schools and public universities could serve to improve the quality of rural teachers, a development which would exponentially better student academic life.

I will be teaching in a rural area next year, a position I hoped for when I applied to the Teacher Corps. I think that rural poverty in the United States is a largely ignored plight, as both the government and private citizens seem to focus largely on urban poverty. This disparity in attention is particularly highlighted in regards to education; the vast majority of Teach for America teachers are placed in urban areas and the other major alternate-route teaching programs are based in large cities (such as New York and Washington). What is additionally troubling to me is the fact that children in rural areas are so intellectually and socially isolated. They do not have the myriad influences and daily interactions that their urban peers enjoy; this isolationism quite often allows prejudice and general ignorance to thrive. Earlier in this post, I critiqued Joel’s paper for not coming up with a solid plan to end rural educational inequality. The truth is, nobody knows what to do about this problem. In a country as wealthy as ours, if a solution could have been found it would have been implemented. All I can do is offer my time, experience, and sweat. I don’t know how my students will turn out in the end, but I do know that I will do all I can to expose them to a world that is beyond their own. That is the best strategy that any teacher/parent/mentor can have.

2006-06-03T15:42:00.000-05:00

I guess I was a little negative in the last post, so maybe I should write about what I like about Mississippi. First off, everyone’s nice. Everyone will engage you in conversation: the checkout person at Wal-Mart, people around campus and on the street, bartenders and waitresses, fast-food restaurant staff. During all those conversations, I am always called “hon” or “sweetheart” by the women and “sir” by the men. Despite this general kindness, the car salesmen are still snakes. The heat is not (yet) as bad as I’d expected. The women are ridiculously beautiful (as one friend put it, “They put on their makeup to go brush their teeth in the morning”). The accents are not nearly as annoying as I thought they’d be, and have actually turned out to be quite calming. The architecture is beautiful, particularly that of Ole Miss. The town square in Oxford is reassuringly traditional. Almost every meal feels as if it has been home-cooked.

The greatest place to eat around here is called Taylor Grocery. Jon, a fellow member of the program who has been living in north Mississippi for two years, introduced it to me two days ago. The restaurant is one of five buildings in downtown Taylor (pop. 200) and serves the best $5 meal I have ever encountered. For a 5-spot you can get one meat (chicken-fried steak, fried chicken, meatloaf, pork butts), three vegetables (fried okra, mashed potatoes, cabbage, creamed corn, navy beans, etc.), and a dry hunk of cornbread. Water and sweet tea are free. The building itself is appropriately ramshackle: the porch slopes off to one side, the stairs the other; three or four rocking chairs sit on the porch, always inhabited by men complaining about the heat; the door is held shut by a pulley mechanism that is anchored by an empty bottle of Jim Beam; I don’t think the place has been painted since Nixon was in office.

Inside there is writing all over the wall, most of which has to do with fraternities, sororities, and Ole Miss in general. Carved in the wall at numerous spots (as well as in a large font on the floor of the porch) are the letters “CSA.” Along the wall are various paintings of the Grocery, various Ole Miss memorabilia, a great sign that reads “Eat Here Or We Both Starve,” and a photo of Steven Segal when he ate at the Grocery (exactly the kind of C-list celeb that one would expect to find down here). There’s also a painting that consists of the Confederate battle flag, a “CSA” cap, and a magnolia flower. It’s exactly the place Sidney Poitier would have been tossed out of if he had tried to enter during “In the Heat of the Night.”

My peers in the Teacher Corps are quite amazing. I feel as if my resume cannot come close to measuring up to my peers, many of whom have taught before, been in the Peace Corps, and worked in other service-based organizations (one worked with 7-12 year old sex offenders in Memphis). Another one of my classmates went to Harvard Law, hated practicing law, and then decided to become a teacher. I have immediately gained respect for my peers because I have admiration for anyone who would take their overstuffed resume and sign up for this gig. The second year members of the program all seem very accomplished, and regardless of what I think of them outside of the classroom, I am in awe of them when they step in front of a class and begin to speak about lesson planning, their students, or education in general. The two lead teachers of the summer school class I'll be helping to teach (English II) are particularly accomplished. All this said, I am a bit worried (if not surprised) about the general cynicism that has reared its head amongst the 2nd years. However, the cynicism is always about theprocess (i.e. the administration and districts) rather than the students themselves, a nuance that is comforting.

The leaders of the program seem extremely competent and extremely demanding. While I am in awe of the dedication and passion of everyone involved in the Corps, I am particularly mystified by the dedication and passion of those who have been working in Mississippi’s educational system for decades (here I am specifically thinking of the co-director of the Corps, Dr. Andy Mullins). The program manager, Ben Guest, seems demanding, brash, intelligent, dedicated, and (I hope) fair. The professor of my introductory class, Ann Monroe, is excitable and kind. Sometimes I think she is a bit too bubbly, but then I realize that her enthusiasm is the only thing keeping me awake in afternoon class. Thinking of her class makes me realize that I should go and do some lesson planning. More later.

2006-06-01T09:55:00.000-05:00

It’s funny how one can discover so much about a place just by observing the simplest things. I have only been here for three days, but I can say this for certain: the state of Mississippi has the worst bathrooms of any place I have ever been. The folks up at CBGB in New York City would be proud (though, if I recall correctly, I think that the famous punk-rock club was closed last year). The dormitory bathrooms at Ole Miss are awful, but I suppose that I expected that. I am not sure if they are unclean and poorly designed because this is the state of Mississippi or if it is because they are part of a public university, but I would expect the answer relies on a bit of both factors. What has surprised me is that every restaurant bathroom I enter, regardless of the quality of that restaurant, is completely disgusting. I suppose that I should spare my readers the details, though I am sure even the most vivid imagination would be surprised by what I have found, but let me say this: because of the heat down here, each day I find myself covered with a thin layer of sweat when I sit down to dinner. As a result, I have reverted to the laws of my youth and now thoroughly wash my hands and face before every meal. Despite careful precautions taken during this minor bathing process, I can assure all of you that I feel dirtier when I leave the bathroom then when I arrive. This lack of cleanliness and proper facilities stays consistent, regardless of the quality of restaurant I frequent.
Also fascinating about the public bathrooms is the sign that hangs next to the sink in each in every one. Although I cannot recall exactly what it says, the sign reads something like this:

The Department of Health of the State of Mississippi asks that you…
PLEASE WASH YOUR HANDS
after you have:
1. Used the restroom
2. Been outside
3. Been in contact with any public facilities
4. Handled raw meat or poultry

The sign goes on to briefly espouse the benefits of washing one’s hands and cleanliness in general, but I really cannot remember what the State Board of Health lists as the specific advantages of general cleanliness. Though I laugh every time I see it, I am also saddened that such a sign has to exist. What does the hanging of such a sign say about the public health knowledge of the general population? Do they know about general health issues such as proper nutrition, basic first aid, and other cleanliness concerns (like the washing of clothes and the home)? Perhaps most importantly, will my students be familiar with birth control and STD prevention?
The graffiti on the walls of Ole Miss’ bathrooms is also troubling. The first thing I saw upon entering the bathroom down the hall from my room was the following joke:

Q: What time does a Chinaman go to the dentist?

A: Tooth-Hurty

Yes, before you ask, I did chuckle. But then I thought about what would happen if such graffiti appeared on a bathroom wall at Brown. There were some pretty disgusting things written in the stalls of the Rockefeller Library, but nothing that could have ever been termed as racist or ethno-centric. Would Brown students organize a protest against the joke’s nameless author and the culture of racist machismo that would allow such a joke to be written publicly? Would there be seminars and speeches about the problems of growing up Chinese in America? What I can say for certain is that the graffiti would have been erased or painted over immediately; not by Brown University janitors but rather by Brown University students. That the black ink in which the above joke was written was faded makes me wonder about the degree to which the citizens of this state continue to accept racial and ethnic stereotypes as well as the (in)ability of that citizenry to actively oppose such backward mindsets. Though I would like to say that I will be a part of helping to alter that way of thinking, I both know and fear that the issues I will have to confront in my classroom will be much more immediate, much more pressing, and much more important to the survival of my students.

2006-05-31T13:08:00.000-05:00

The title of this blog is an adaptation of the title of my favorite book, David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas. While the novel did not inspire me to undertake my current journey, its final words succinctly encapsulate the worldview which has led me to this place. As one chapter of my life has recently ended, and another is just beginning, I feel it appropriate to begin this journal with Mitchell's ending...

Upon my return to San Francisco, I shall pledge myself to the Abolitionist cause, because I owe my life to a self-freed slave, and because I must begin somewhere.

I hear my father-in-law's response. "Oho, fine, Whiggish sentiments, Adam. But don't tell me about justice! Ride to Tennessee on an ass and convince the red-necks that they are merely white-washed negroes & their negroes are black-washed Whites! Sail to the Old World, tell 'em their imperial slaves' rights are as inalienable as the Queen of Belgium's! Oh, you'll grow hoarse, poor and grey in caucuses! You'll be spat on, shot at, lynched, pacified with medals, spurned by backwoodsmen! Crucified! Naive, dreaming Adam. He who would do battle with the many-headed hydra of human nature must pay a world of pain and his family must pay it along with him! And only as you gasp your dying breath shall you understand, your life amounted to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean!"

Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops?