I am a lover of stories. Preferably of whimsical tales of yore, or one with turns and twists. I love heroes; I especially love when the underdog wins. I crave a believable, succinct plot.
My need for a story with a plot with no holes in it is why I hate Tyler Perry movies, simply because his plots leave a lot to be desired! Black cinema leaves a lot to be desired period. I don't want a story of black, everyday life drama: the down and out mom, struggling to find love while raising her kids; the gangster tales; the cheating husband; the comedian in drag parading as an old grandma or ghetto chick. Of course, as is the case of "black trailblazers" we pay homage to these movies because they were the firsts of their kinds, and in the case of School Daze, Malcolm X and Boyz in the Hood, masterpieces, but more often than not pandering to what makes money. And while we have had our Tyler Perry and Spike Lee and John Singleton, none has produced that one whimsical, fantasy, tale of a black hero. There has been no tale of adventure, love, struggle and history all wrapped together in one movie sitting told from the black experience. And I have waited, loving instead the stories of Sherlock Holmes and all the others Hollywood has given me instead.
I have finally been given my black hero tale. I have been given all my heart has desired in a movie!
I will be honest. When I first heard of the movie Django, I felt it was going to be a Catcher Freeman-esq film with some slave with super powers and he goes around self-righteously killing white slave owners as far as the eye could see. You Boondocks fans know who Catcher Freeman is, and can identify with my angst. Clearly, a slave hero would be all we need him to be: cunning, strong, manly, compassionate, loving, and fighting for his freedom.
Django is my new hero. He was everything I envisioned a hero slave man to be. He was wise beyond measure; the same wisdom Jim had in Huckleberry: a slave but wise nonetheless. His character was realistic, and outlined the paradox of his existence. And when he chose his royal blue outfit! I believe I could see that being a truthful occurrence! He did everything he could to save his lady love, and had her at the tales end. The plot was so dead on, Django managed to have a foil in Stephen, Sam L. Jackson's version of a head house slave who loves his master. Nothing in the plot was left to chance, and the well placed suspense kept you wondering what was next! A brutal killing, or a laugh. The sarcasm and satire was abundant, even poking fun at the early KKK. The writing was fantastic; the music was well-placed and perfectly selected. There wasn't much this movie lacked.
Jamie Foxx as Django was superb. At first, it was hard for me to accept that he could portray a character of this magnitude, as I keenly remember his stand-up and In Living Color days. Even the Academy Award didn't make me a believer, and he beat out some heavy hitters such as Johnny Depp, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Clint Eastwood. Fox is just absolutely gifted as an actor, and I believe this movie solidified his standing. Foxx's D'Jango ousts Downey's Sherlock Holmes, which prior to today, ranked as one of the best performances by an actor to me. I love Heath Leger's Joker, Joaquin Phoenix's Mr. Watson, Kelsey Grammar's Robert Langdon, among other heroes or villains. And boy do I love a good villain! Disney's Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty is by far the most menacing villain in the repertoire. Yes. I have a sick, twisted affinity for villains. Leonardo DiCaprio's Calvin Candie was brilliant. You wanted to hate evvvvvverything about him, but the Southernly Gentleman in him made you slightly forgive him. He was what a young slave owner probably looked like: renegade, above the law, charming, psychotic. The quintessential slaver. Who was Mandingo fighting.... Absolutely brilliant acting. DiCaprio was said to have struggled with the harsh language and some of the scenes, but you would have never known because he was Calvin Candie.
While I could not watch many graphic parts of this film, and the use of the word "nigger" made me flinch several times, it was necessary. Slavery was gruesome and horrible and heartbreaking. Clearly understating this would have been to the detriment of the film.
It is a wonderful slave tale. If you are looking for homage, or a documentary, or something to be entered to the discussion on slave matters, this movie is not it. While people feel this movie is insensitive or disrespects our ancestors, I beg to differ. Every culture has its hero in cinema. None of them has looked like me. Slave culture unfortunately is our culture; how have we gone this long with no slave hero? We have no Don Quixote. No Three Musketeers. No Robin Hood. We now have our Romanticised slave story.
As is expected of Quintin Tarantino, he delivered a Tarantino film. He gave us a romantic fantasy, equipped with the dark humor that is a Tarantino creation. It had its parts where you did not want to laugh (such as the character of Samuel L. Jackson and his ridiculous cursing) but couldn't help it, and parts where you could not laugh. Every emotion imaginable could have been experienced. It was 2 hours and 45 minutes of master cinema.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
The Reemergence Of Dialect
While the quote, "In order to know where you are going, you have to know where you've been" is totally cliche, when it comes to this new generation's language these days, it totally is fitting. In all honesty, some of these children sound like what I envision a slave sounded like. Yes. A slave. And in some cases, they are killing the language so bad that the slaves themselves are probably turning in their graves. How in the world did our language backslide to dialect?
On any given day, I can hear a student say some of these things:
"Is you gone stop playin gurl?"
"Boy who is you talkin too?"
"What happenin foo?"
"Why is you actin green fo?"
Earlier this week, I confiscated a note from a student. I needed another student to translate it for me. I suppose it was written in English, but it was so hard to read:
"Ma gurl got ha fone cut off. Ha moma b on sum bs. Ah ain't gonna call her no mo."
I wish they knew how closely they sounded like slaves.
Zora Neale Hurston, queen of writing dialect, made it her business to capture the language of African Americans in the 20s and 30s. Here are a few passags from her short story, "The Guilded 6 Bits":
"Humph! Ah'm way behind time t'day! Joe gointer be heah 'fore Ah git mah clothes on if Ah don't make haste."
"Ah ain't, Joe, not lessen you gwine gimme whateve' it is good you got in yo' pocket. Turn it go, Joe, do Ah'll tear yo' clothes."
"Lemme git dat paper sak out yo' pocket. Ah bet it's candy kisses."
"Tain't. Move yo' hand. Woman ain't got no business in a man's clothes nohow. Go way."
Yeah. So my students sound just like this. I really do not know what else to say.
On any given day, I can hear a student say some of these things:
"Is you gone stop playin gurl?"
"Boy who is you talkin too?"
"What happenin foo?"
"Why is you actin green fo?"
Earlier this week, I confiscated a note from a student. I needed another student to translate it for me. I suppose it was written in English, but it was so hard to read:
"Ma gurl got ha fone cut off. Ha moma b on sum bs. Ah ain't gonna call her no mo."
I wish they knew how closely they sounded like slaves.
Zora Neale Hurston, queen of writing dialect, made it her business to capture the language of African Americans in the 20s and 30s. Here are a few passags from her short story, "The Guilded 6 Bits":
"Ah ain't, Joe, not lessen you gwine gimme whateve' it is good you got in yo' pocket. Turn it go, Joe, do Ah'll tear yo' clothes."
"Lemme git dat paper sak out yo' pocket. Ah bet it's candy kisses."
"Tain't. Move yo' hand. Woman ain't got no business in a man's clothes nohow. Go way."
Yeah. So my students sound just like this. I really do not know what else to say.
Monday, November 5, 2012
The Truth May Hurt for a Little While But a Lie Hurts Forever.
A few days ago, I virtually emasculated my AP students. While I have noticed (for several weeks) that they had not been reading, the silence between questions went from "gears turning in their minds"......to eery......to downright telling. These students should have seriously read the piece we were discussing at least twice. So at first I was slightly perplexed as to why it was taking them that long when it should have just been a REREAD. Until I realized many were reading it for the first time. I've been in this teaching game 10 years now, and I have taught 5th grade up through college, so I know what silence means. Generally, I would tell them I knew they were faking and hadn't read, but this got under my skin this time.
It cut me deep.
It felt like a splinter that was stuck in a finger for hours because there were no tweezers to dig it out. It stung like a wasp's sting. A persistent sting that no matter how hard you wish for it to go away, it just remains. So, in retailiation of my sting, I told my students the truth that no one likes to tell them.
I told them how they know nothing, and they tend to be very content with that. I say content because they CHOOSE not to better themselves. I say content because I don't see the willingness to push themselves, so they are complacent. They seem content to be the best at "our school". That bothers me. Because no student from the inner city can ever be content with anything because as we are fighting to have good ACT scores, or FIGHTING to have higher AP scores, there is a world on the other side of Poplar where Memphis' brightest and best dwell. They read the newspaper. They read the classics. They read and watch the news. They know allusions. They are knowledgeable of current events. They thirst for knowledge. They talk about college at their dinner tables. They read for fun. College is NOT an option with the kids at Central and White Station. They are going, and if students at Sheffield are not careful, they will be working FOR them. I wish they knew the curriculum at a private school or boarding school where all students take AP courses. I wish they knew how easily a 25 or a 27 or a 29 on the ACT is to these students.
In light of all this, I would be remiss as my student's teacher to allow complacence. There is too much at stake. So I told them the truth. I told them that at those other schools, they would be in honors courses. I told them that in reality, they are average right now. To be fair, it isn't their fault entirely. They have had some not so great, uncaring teachers who have limited their intelligence. But, if you choose to never better yourself by READING, then that is YOUR fault. 90% of what I have learned in my life has been by my own efforts: by reading in my spare time. I also adamatly stated that I am not in the business of teaching at their pace. I am not in the business of teaching an average student who wishes to remain that way. I am in the business of working with the serious scholar and pushing them to make a statement to this community. I want my students to show the community here in Sheffield and across this city that Sheffield is capable of turning out the brightest and the best! And I am determined to prove it.
Do not take my class if you are looking for an A. You must earn the A after all of the hoops and mazes I will put you through to get the A. And you will be proud of that A if you do in fact earn it.
Do not take my class if you read for enjoyment. I need students who read for knowledge, and thus your feelings will be hurt. We read nothing but material that will make you think.
Do not take my class if you are not going to do my work. I spend many hours away from my boys to put lessons together that you will enjoy. Don't disrespect or waste my hours I spend on you by not doing my work.
Do not take my class if you don't make yourself understand what you read. You must read for information.
Do not take my class if you are not serious. We are in the middle of a war. A war against the stereotype that Sheffield is the dumping ground in East Memphis. I am the general and I promise you, you will not get shot if you just follow my directions. In fact, following my directions will give you life.
Better yet, I am the coach of this team and I am looking for my squad who I can take to the championship. I am not looking for a playoff team. I deal with winners.
I hope that students know that I am not the average teacher. Therefore, I don't deal with "average" students. There are plenty of other teachers to take that do tolerate this subpar behavior. May even be happy with that because it is so much better than their average students. I told them to feel free to take one of those teachers. I deal with movers and shakers. I deal with dreamers. I deal with doers. To take me is a badge of honor and I intend to keep it that way. And my ship will continue to sail whether you are on the vessel or not. I will love you still, but lose respect for you because it is a shame to see a student give up on him/herself. And sometimes the easy route is the route lazy people must take.
The truth hurts for a little while. But I refuse to lie to them and make them think their actions to not progress is acceptable. They will thank me when they get into the colleges they wish to attend. And they will thank me when all the skills they learned now helps them to compete in three years with their college peers.
I'm good. Hopefully they will be too.
It cut me deep.
It felt like a splinter that was stuck in a finger for hours because there were no tweezers to dig it out. It stung like a wasp's sting. A persistent sting that no matter how hard you wish for it to go away, it just remains. So, in retailiation of my sting, I told my students the truth that no one likes to tell them.
I told them how they know nothing, and they tend to be very content with that. I say content because they CHOOSE not to better themselves. I say content because I don't see the willingness to push themselves, so they are complacent. They seem content to be the best at "our school". That bothers me. Because no student from the inner city can ever be content with anything because as we are fighting to have good ACT scores, or FIGHTING to have higher AP scores, there is a world on the other side of Poplar where Memphis' brightest and best dwell. They read the newspaper. They read the classics. They read and watch the news. They know allusions. They are knowledgeable of current events. They thirst for knowledge. They talk about college at their dinner tables. They read for fun. College is NOT an option with the kids at Central and White Station. They are going, and if students at Sheffield are not careful, they will be working FOR them. I wish they knew the curriculum at a private school or boarding school where all students take AP courses. I wish they knew how easily a 25 or a 27 or a 29 on the ACT is to these students.
In light of all this, I would be remiss as my student's teacher to allow complacence. There is too much at stake. So I told them the truth. I told them that at those other schools, they would be in honors courses. I told them that in reality, they are average right now. To be fair, it isn't their fault entirely. They have had some not so great, uncaring teachers who have limited their intelligence. But, if you choose to never better yourself by READING, then that is YOUR fault. 90% of what I have learned in my life has been by my own efforts: by reading in my spare time. I also adamatly stated that I am not in the business of teaching at their pace. I am not in the business of teaching an average student who wishes to remain that way. I am in the business of working with the serious scholar and pushing them to make a statement to this community. I want my students to show the community here in Sheffield and across this city that Sheffield is capable of turning out the brightest and the best! And I am determined to prove it.
Do not take my class if you are looking for an A. You must earn the A after all of the hoops and mazes I will put you through to get the A. And you will be proud of that A if you do in fact earn it.
Do not take my class if you read for enjoyment. I need students who read for knowledge, and thus your feelings will be hurt. We read nothing but material that will make you think.
Do not take my class if you are not going to do my work. I spend many hours away from my boys to put lessons together that you will enjoy. Don't disrespect or waste my hours I spend on you by not doing my work.
Do not take my class if you don't make yourself understand what you read. You must read for information.
Do not take my class if you are not serious. We are in the middle of a war. A war against the stereotype that Sheffield is the dumping ground in East Memphis. I am the general and I promise you, you will not get shot if you just follow my directions. In fact, following my directions will give you life.
Better yet, I am the coach of this team and I am looking for my squad who I can take to the championship. I am not looking for a playoff team. I deal with winners.
I hope that students know that I am not the average teacher. Therefore, I don't deal with "average" students. There are plenty of other teachers to take that do tolerate this subpar behavior. May even be happy with that because it is so much better than their average students. I told them to feel free to take one of those teachers. I deal with movers and shakers. I deal with dreamers. I deal with doers. To take me is a badge of honor and I intend to keep it that way. And my ship will continue to sail whether you are on the vessel or not. I will love you still, but lose respect for you because it is a shame to see a student give up on him/herself. And sometimes the easy route is the route lazy people must take.
The truth hurts for a little while. But I refuse to lie to them and make them think their actions to not progress is acceptable. They will thank me when they get into the colleges they wish to attend. And they will thank me when all the skills they learned now helps them to compete in three years with their college peers.
I'm good. Hopefully they will be too.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Through to My Soul: Teacher Writing in the Classroom
Today, I shared a very important and deeply personal essay with my students. Now, sharing essays with my students is certainly not a new thing. Because I believe in modeling expectations, I have shared all kinds of essays with them. But this essay was special. It talked about my concurrent absence of my birth father and my obsession with Barbie dolls. I have been married to my childhood sweetheart now for 11 years, and he has gone through the drama with my father and me, and I have never talked to him about it. When I read the essay to my husband prior to sharing it with the students, he remarked, "That essay explains...everything." YES. I was that deep in that essay.
I was slightly reluctant to share it; again, I was opening a world up to them that hadn't been exposed to them since I started teaching them 2 years ago. Nervously, emotionally, I began to read the piece to my students. As I read, holding back tears, I could not help but notice how captivated they were with my story. The room was so silent, with just my voice bouncing off the walls. Not even a sniffle.
When I finished reading, the room stayed silent. A few shook their heads, and others just stared at me with jaws dropped. They were practicing peer editing with my paper, but they mostly praised my paper and specific diction and syntax I used. A few couldn't help but comment on the tone of sadness in my essay.
As with any lesson plan, the objective is to make sure the students take away something from that day. Generally, my expectation was for the students to get a model for their essay. I think I got much more out of that though. They eventually shoved off the essay and started asking me about my life! We chatted the rest of the period about me. The students said I should write a book. I just might.
Any teacher who does not share some kind of writing with their students is truly missing out on building a classroom climate of respect in that classroom. When teachers share their personal writing with students, they allow to students to see that teacher as a person. A human being with feelings, emotions and pasts that would blow their socks off. Today I was human to them. I was a person who had suffered. I was a person they could relate to. I was a person they felt they could respect because of my struggle. I was something else other than a teacher to them today.
Just as I learn who has lived through abuse, who has no home, who joined a gang, and who stole from a store, they get to know me as a human in return through my writing. Not only do they have better writing because they have an example, it helps me to also build a relationship with them. It is definitely a classroom game changer.
I was slightly reluctant to share it; again, I was opening a world up to them that hadn't been exposed to them since I started teaching them 2 years ago. Nervously, emotionally, I began to read the piece to my students. As I read, holding back tears, I could not help but notice how captivated they were with my story. The room was so silent, with just my voice bouncing off the walls. Not even a sniffle.
When I finished reading, the room stayed silent. A few shook their heads, and others just stared at me with jaws dropped. They were practicing peer editing with my paper, but they mostly praised my paper and specific diction and syntax I used. A few couldn't help but comment on the tone of sadness in my essay.
As with any lesson plan, the objective is to make sure the students take away something from that day. Generally, my expectation was for the students to get a model for their essay. I think I got much more out of that though. They eventually shoved off the essay and started asking me about my life! We chatted the rest of the period about me. The students said I should write a book. I just might.
Any teacher who does not share some kind of writing with their students is truly missing out on building a classroom climate of respect in that classroom. When teachers share their personal writing with students, they allow to students to see that teacher as a person. A human being with feelings, emotions and pasts that would blow their socks off. Today I was human to them. I was a person who had suffered. I was a person they could relate to. I was a person they felt they could respect because of my struggle. I was something else other than a teacher to them today.
Just as I learn who has lived through abuse, who has no home, who joined a gang, and who stole from a store, they get to know me as a human in return through my writing. Not only do they have better writing because they have an example, it helps me to also build a relationship with them. It is definitely a classroom game changer.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Making the Case for Gender Education
It takes a man to teach a man. It takes a lady to teach a lady.
My grandmothers taught me to be a lady. One grandmother of mine taught me that you always allow a man to open a door for you if he offers. She taught me that a man should always have a jewel on his arm and that she must look her best at all times. She taught me that you don't even go shopping without putting some lipstick on your lips. My other grandmother taught me that a woman always wears pearls and keeps her nails manicured. They collectively taught me how to take care of children and how to maintain a healthy marriage. I am forever grateful that I had these women in my life.
And while older, seasoned grandmothers are remnants of the past those simple life lessons should still ring true and be passed from generation from generation. However, in this growing age of social media, we are seeing more and more how these snippets of wisdom are fading away into this horrible mess we see in pictures everyday. These days, women are being objectified more than ever, with women paying for enhancements by the plastic load! Women haven't been any closer to being plastic barbie dolls than in this day age! Women have several new stations in life these days: the baby moma, and the object of male desires. Girls are having babies younger because no one is teaching them about their innocence, or daddy isn't around to teach her how not to act from a male perspective.
I can tell when a girl has a daddy in her life most of the time. As a woman who didn't have a daddy in her life, I can relate to the struggle of falling for male affection blindly.
The same can be said for our male population. Who is teaching boys to be chivalrous men? It hurts me to hear how these young boys objectify girls at such a young age: "Oh see's so thick" or calling a girl out of her name if she doesn't give him what he wants.
So, if these students are not learning these things at home, schools should make it an option to allow gender-based character courses. It is imperative that this kind of education is offered so that these students at least have an idea of what is expected of them.
I am excited about the lady and male groups that are being formed at our school. On the female side, we plan to expose these young girls to the expectations of being a young lady in the 21st century. We plan to not only teach them how to care for their appearances, but to teach them compassion by exposing them to community service which deals with children, battered women and women who have lost their way. We plan to not only teach them elegance in stature and diction, but in the way that they carry and present themselves. We also hope to continue the dialogue by inviting their mothers and women who love them to events and culminate with a women's tea. I cannot wait to begin!
A new age of lady will be taking over at our school soon!
My grandmothers taught me to be a lady. One grandmother of mine taught me that you always allow a man to open a door for you if he offers. She taught me that a man should always have a jewel on his arm and that she must look her best at all times. She taught me that you don't even go shopping without putting some lipstick on your lips. My other grandmother taught me that a woman always wears pearls and keeps her nails manicured. They collectively taught me how to take care of children and how to maintain a healthy marriage. I am forever grateful that I had these women in my life.
And while older, seasoned grandmothers are remnants of the past those simple life lessons should still ring true and be passed from generation from generation. However, in this growing age of social media, we are seeing more and more how these snippets of wisdom are fading away into this horrible mess we see in pictures everyday. These days, women are being objectified more than ever, with women paying for enhancements by the plastic load! Women haven't been any closer to being plastic barbie dolls than in this day age! Women have several new stations in life these days: the baby moma, and the object of male desires. Girls are having babies younger because no one is teaching them about their innocence, or daddy isn't around to teach her how not to act from a male perspective.
I can tell when a girl has a daddy in her life most of the time. As a woman who didn't have a daddy in her life, I can relate to the struggle of falling for male affection blindly.
The same can be said for our male population. Who is teaching boys to be chivalrous men? It hurts me to hear how these young boys objectify girls at such a young age: "Oh see's so thick" or calling a girl out of her name if she doesn't give him what he wants.
So, if these students are not learning these things at home, schools should make it an option to allow gender-based character courses. It is imperative that this kind of education is offered so that these students at least have an idea of what is expected of them.
I am excited about the lady and male groups that are being formed at our school. On the female side, we plan to expose these young girls to the expectations of being a young lady in the 21st century. We plan to not only teach them how to care for their appearances, but to teach them compassion by exposing them to community service which deals with children, battered women and women who have lost their way. We plan to not only teach them elegance in stature and diction, but in the way that they carry and present themselves. We also hope to continue the dialogue by inviting their mothers and women who love them to events and culminate with a women's tea. I cannot wait to begin!
A new age of lady will be taking over at our school soon!
Saturday, August 18, 2012
My New Generation of Students
I have now had my new students for 2 weeks. It has been a lot of change and an even bigger adjustment for me, but we are trudging along. I must say I have been pleasantly surprised by these new students of mine. I am particularly excited about my freshman honors class. We were discussing what we were going to read for our literature circles. Usually, when I would introduce the idea of reading, my students have TRADITIONALLY met this statement with disgust! Not my freshmen honors students! Immediately, they began to ransack my shelves! They checked out like thirty books! No kids had ever checked out my books! Ever! This was refreshing! Just imagine what I can do with kids who love to read! I will definitely be rethinking my syllabus with those students!!! I am so excited to teach them.
The other intriguing element to my 2nd week is my AP students. Now that all 21 of them have arrived, I think this will be the class to propel us to the top. These students definitely are trying very hard to learn. I sometimes am taken aback by what they don't know about history or current events, or that they haven't written much, but despite this, these students do attempt to work very hard to find out what they don't know. That is exciting. In addition, I am not missing one single assignment from these students! That is extremely encouraging. I am so excited to get into this curriculum with these juniors- and they seem excited to go there with me.
The one disheartening aspect of my week, however, is that with my standard English students, they have never been made to think. They are so used to people giving them busy work or telling them answers, that they are unaware how they should think. That deeply troubles me. Simple inferences were slightly difficult for them. High stakes testing has taken over, and teaching and learning has lost significant ground to teaching for the test. These students haven't been made to use their minds at all. Using context clues was a struggle for these students. Inferring about a political cartoon was difficult for them. I have my work cut out with them. The upside to this is that, these students are at least willing to try for me and enjoy my class. As long as I build on that enthusiasm, we will get where we need to go. Sometimes in the world of teaching, enthusiasm is everything. If I can just get them to read and truly ponder what they have read and make a judgement about that reading, just imagine what my scores will look like! The process of getting this to happen is where my apprehension lies.
I have my work cut out for me in three different ways, but I totally accept these challenges.
The other intriguing element to my 2nd week is my AP students. Now that all 21 of them have arrived, I think this will be the class to propel us to the top. These students definitely are trying very hard to learn. I sometimes am taken aback by what they don't know about history or current events, or that they haven't written much, but despite this, these students do attempt to work very hard to find out what they don't know. That is exciting. In addition, I am not missing one single assignment from these students! That is extremely encouraging. I am so excited to get into this curriculum with these juniors- and they seem excited to go there with me.
The one disheartening aspect of my week, however, is that with my standard English students, they have never been made to think. They are so used to people giving them busy work or telling them answers, that they are unaware how they should think. That deeply troubles me. Simple inferences were slightly difficult for them. High stakes testing has taken over, and teaching and learning has lost significant ground to teaching for the test. These students haven't been made to use their minds at all. Using context clues was a struggle for these students. Inferring about a political cartoon was difficult for them. I have my work cut out with them. The upside to this is that, these students are at least willing to try for me and enjoy my class. As long as I build on that enthusiasm, we will get where we need to go. Sometimes in the world of teaching, enthusiasm is everything. If I can just get them to read and truly ponder what they have read and make a judgement about that reading, just imagine what my scores will look like! The process of getting this to happen is where my apprehension lies.
I have my work cut out for me in three different ways, but I totally accept these challenges.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Changes
So this will not take long, and will not be profound. This week, I got new kids. In my career, I have taught two groups of kids. The first group, I had for three years. I taught those kids from 6th grade through 8th. When they went to 9th grade, I left and took my career to a whole new level. The second group I taught for 2 years. They all just became seniors. I grew a lot with those kids. And even though they flattered me this week with the "I miss you" or "Why didn't you go with us", I can't help but have my eyes pinned to the future. I was a pretty decent teacher for those kids. And although it never ceases to amaze me how attached kids can become to you even at your worst, I am a far better teacher now than I had been for both of those groups. Mostly because of them. Naturally, you reflect on mistakes and attempt to right wrongs the second time around, so now that I know better, I have done better. I plan to continue to get better at my craft.
However, change is difficult. And as I see a lot of my old ways fading in the wind, I am allured by this idea of the unknown. The unknown of how well these new students will do for me. The unknown of where my career goes from here. The unknown of....well everything. Even tomorrow. But that unknown is what keeps me going. It is what keeps this fire underneath me to turn from complacency. I have never been more excited than I have been on the cusp of this new year.
So far so good.
However, change is difficult. And as I see a lot of my old ways fading in the wind, I am allured by this idea of the unknown. The unknown of how well these new students will do for me. The unknown of where my career goes from here. The unknown of....well everything. Even tomorrow. But that unknown is what keeps me going. It is what keeps this fire underneath me to turn from complacency. I have never been more excited than I have been on the cusp of this new year.
So far so good.
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