Gladly Would I Teach

I was excited about class on Friday because we were going to discuss Wallace Stegner’s “Town Dump,” a beautiful essay about his Canadian childhood. Students generally like the essay because of Stegner’s vivid descriptions of the items he finds at the local dump. Since the essay is told through the eyes of a seven year old, it is easy for the reader to understand how fascinated the young boy is with a catfish who may be the devil, or the leeches that cling to his skin, or the mounted goat’s head that he takes home until his mother makes him return it since it is full of moths.

One of my favorite sections of the essay is when seven-year-old Stegner writes a letter to a company and receives a form letter as a reply. The “windowed envelope” from people who are “his truly” becomes a treasure that the boy carries around for days.

At the end of the essay, Stegner asserts, “The dump was our history and our poetry.” Usually, students enjoy discussing how a dump is our history because it holds everything we have ever used and how the dump is like poetry in that it holds items that are memorable but not useful. We then continue the discussion by telling about items that we own that other people would consider unimportant or useless but we keep them because they are important to us.

Usually!

Yesterday, when I asked students what they thought of the essay they had read for homework, most of them had not enjoyed it.

“Why?” I asked in disbelief. Although most of them could supply explanations such as it did not tell a story, or they couldn’t relate, or they didn’t enjoy his philosophical views, some students answered unemotionally , “It was boring.”

“It was boring!”

Nothing kills a teacher’s enthusiasm faster on a Friday afternoon than to hear a student reduce a marvelous work of literature as “boring.”

Some days teaching would be easier if I turned off the lights and showed a movie, even a boring movie!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Anyone who teaches high school knows all about teenagers who exert minimum effort on assignments and wait until the last minute to complete their work.  This behavior is not new, and this post is not about how teenagers today are so lazy in comparison to previous generations.

In fact, I don’t think kids today are lazier.

My concern is not so much with student laziness as it is with the attitude that so many students display towards work.

Yesterday on the first day of the semester, I asked students to complete a student information sheet. One of the questions asked, “Approximately how many hours do you study or work on homework each night?” Although most students answered that they worked 1-3 hours on homework, here are some of the other answers.

• 9 minutes
• eh?
• Homework? What’s that?
• as little as I can get away with
• 0-10 minutes
• none – maybe 1 hour
• none

Ten percent of the students who completed information sheets yesterday illustrated disdain for homework (and probably work in general). These are answers from Advanced Placement English seniors, supposedly the smartest kids in the school. I wonder what the responses would have been for younger students and students who are not as advanced academically.

Again, my concern is not so much in the students’ lack of effort; that’s a different problem. My concern is with the attitude. Why do so many students brag about working very little? Why do they consider it a badge of honor to turn in a major paper that they did not start until midnight the previous night?

We have always had students who procrastinated or who failed to work to their potential. Ten years ago, however, these students also displayed remorse and embarrassment. Years ago slackers actually felt and displayed SHAME, a concept that we rarely discuss anymore.

What has changed in our society that students now take pride in completing mediocre work?

At the same time, what has changed in our society to prompt hard-working students to hide how much they work because they know others will make fun of them?

What does this celebration of this slacker attitude say about America and our future?

Most of all, what can teachers do to change this attitude?  As teachers, we often discuss ways to increase achievement. I wish we would also take the time to discuss ways to increase students’ desire to learn and to achieve.  Any ideas?

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

How bright is your classroom?

I have been fortunate because all but one of my classrooms during my long career have had windows. I spent only two years in an interior classroom that had no windows, and those were the most depressing years of my career – for other reasons. The lack of windows had nothing to do with how I felt.

At least I don’t think they did.

On most days in the classroom I have occupied now for eight years, two large windows fill my classroom with glorious sunlight. For a couple of hours during the day, the sunshine streaming in is so bright and so hot that we love it, except for the students who sit in front of the windows and have to shield their eyes from the sun and endure the heat. Much to my chagrin, these students usually lower the blinds. It’s a rational and perfectly understandable decision, just not one I like. I can’t really blame them.

When I open the new semester on Tuesday, however, I’m going to reserve the seats right in front of the window for the sun lovers and hope they will leave the blinds open so we can all enjoy the sunlight.

I’m always perplexed by teachers who lower their window blinds and turn off part of the classroom lights. Some even turn off all of the florescent lights and plug in a lamp to create a peaceful ambiance. I used to visit an elementary school where most of the kindergarten and first grade teachers  turned down the lights, apparently thinking the lower lights might calm students. Some of these classrooms were so dark, however, that I would have trouble reading and writing in the classroom.

I like the light!

I want the sunshine to brighten my room and make me momentarily wonder if it’s June instead of January.

Last semester one of my students wrote a research paper about the effect that sunshine has on individuals.  Within the paper, she highlighted several studies that showed that students in classrooms where there is greater natural light from windows and skylights actually achieve more than students in classrooms without windows. I can’t remember the student’s sources, but here is a link to one study I found online.

Daylight and Productivity

I don’t think one study proves that sunshine actually increases learning. I do know, however, that on days when the sun shines brightly into my classroom, students are happier and more engaged in classroom activities. On cloudy and rainy days, we all want to take naps.

So, I’m telling the sun lovers to keep the blinds open and let the sunshine in!

If we all become a little smarter because of the sunshine, that’s an added bonus!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Our semester ended before Christmas, and I had to say good-bye to all of my students. Because my school operates on a block schedule with four 90-minute daily class periods, I am only allowed to  keep students one semester. (I hate block schedules, but that’s a different blog topic for the future.) Next week I will meet 75-85 new students.

Because my seniors have finished their English requirements, they will complete little reading and writing next semester. To encourage them to keep reading, however, I have started a voluntary reading group for AP English students. We will read one book each month and then meet before school to discuss it – no quizzes, no tests, no papers – just reading and discussion.

I invited all of my 84 first-semester students to participate, and so far 26 of them have joined the group, not bad for seniors in their final semester of high school!

I want the group and reading to be fun and profitable for students; therefore, I need to select books of high interest that will “speak” to 17 and 18 year olds a few months away from college.

In January, we are reading John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany, a book that most teenagers enjoy and have fun discussing. For February, I’m considering Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country, a poignant book about racism in South Africa.

I’m looking for suggestions for other books that I can introduce to these students. They are all excellent readers and good students. Because they have volunteered to participate in a book group, they also obviously enjoy reading.  I may suggest one book each month for the entire group or offer 3 suggestions and let them choose the book they want to read.

When you think back to your high school and college years, what books resonated powerfully with you?  Can you remember a book that you could not put down or a book that you considered powerful because it opened your eyes to a new world or situation that you had not considered previously?

I would appreciate any advice or suggestions.  Since I know senioritis will start nipping at these students in the next few weeks, I want to make our reading group as meaningful and engaging as possible.

Thanks!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Yesterday I walked around the classroom and collected research papers. When I reached a student who has a low grade in the class, he looked up at me and told me he didn’t write the paper because he didn’t think he could pass anyway.

He just gave up!

He didn’t even attempt the paper.

Although I had discussed his grade with him a little over a week ago and emphasized that it was still possible for him to pass if he did well on the remaining assignments, he didn’t even try.

Of all of the students who exasperate me, I think students who exhibit defeatist attitudes are the most perplexing. Normally, I would analyze the student and try to ascertain why he gave up so easily when most students in the class are still fighting to make the highest grade they can acquire. I didn’t today.

I think I understand part of this student’s problem because a few weeks ago I called the father to discuss his son’s grades. Regardless of what I said, the father responded, “It’s up to him. He has to make the decision to work and pass the class.” I wanted to shake the father and tell him how important it is for him to encourage his son.

I guess when children reach 17 or 18, parents have to back off and make kids stand on their own.

The student will indeed fail since he did not submit a research paper, and next semester he will take a different English course since he has to pass one more English class in order to graduate.

The student just gave up, and I think I am sadder about it than he is.

A few years ago, Stephanie Barber, an innovative Special Education teacher at my school, created a unique program to help her students. She opened a coffee shop that is run by special-needs students. Each morning before school the students prepare drinks and food and then sell them to students and faculty members.  During first period the students also make deliveries to the classrooms of teachers who submit orders.

As a treat, each Friday I allow my students to order coffee and drinks from the Mountain-Top Cafe, and our order arrives about thirty minutes later. Because the cafe has been open for years, students throughout the school know about the cafe and the students who run it. Each Friday when our order arrives, we are usually greeted by two extremely vivacious students who distribute the drinks and collect the money.

The special-needs students are always happy and often greet my students by name. One of the sweet aspects of our Friday deliveries is the naivete of the students making the deliveries. Regardless of what we are doing in class, the students announce their arrival as if what they are doing is the most important thing we all will do all day. I often wonder if they might just be right.

It is impossible to keep from smiling as these students enter the room and talk to my students. They might walk in right when we are taking a quiz when the room is silent, but that doesn’t prohibit them from greeting everyone.  Last Friday when the students arrived, one little girl walked up to one of my AP students and stated loudly, “Hi, Lauren! How are you?” Lauren, who two minutes before had been totally engrossed in a vocabulary quiz, stopped what she was doing to talk to the student.

One student who frequently stops by to deliver coffee always has to talk to my students about the posters on my wall, thinking that the students in the class may not notice the posters.

As the students leave my classroom, many students call out to tell them good-bye or to thank them, and we then return to our work.

I often wonder who profits the most from the Mountain-Top Cafe. Does the program provide the most help to the special-needs students who learn to interact with the public, to make deliveries, and to count change?

Or, are the advanced students, students who at times are so stressed-out about academics, school work, college admission requirements, helped most be coming into contact with naive children who are always happy and so appreciative of the simple gestures of friendship that so many of us take for granted?

What a wonderful program!

Despite our best plans and best efforts, we periodically face those unexpected dilemmas where no easy answers exist. I’m facing one of those difficult times right now.

A few weeks ago while I was on morning cafeteria duty, a student I do not know approached me and asked for help in finding his missing notebook computer. He had been told it was behind the student government desk inside the cafeteria. We searched but found nothing. When I left the cafeteria, however, I informed several faculty members and students about the missing computer.

Two weeks later, when I had almost forgotten the computer, another student found the computer and brought it to me. He had found it in an administrator’s office and had been told that I was looking for it. I was so happy and immediately gave the computer to my student aide and told him to take it to the student who had lost it.

Lost computer found!  Happy Ending!

Or so I thought.

Yesterday when I returned to school after Thanksgiving break, an administrator asked me about the computer because the student’s mother was upset that we couldn’t find it.  Perplexed, I assured the administrator that the mother was wrong because we had returned the computer to the student before Thanksgiving. A few hours later, I checked with my student aide who then informed me that he had not given the computer to the student.

Two weeks before, he had placed the computer on a table in another teacher’s classroom while he completed several other duties. However, he simply forgot it and went on to his next class without securing the computer.

He never told me.

Now, weeks after the student lost his computer, it apparently has been stolen.

Here’s the dilemma: Who is responsible for the lost / stolen computer?

Is the student responsible for losing his own computer?

Are the students in the student government responsible since they housed the missing computer in a desk for two weeks instead of placing it in the lost-and-found section in the office?

Is my student aide responsible since he failed to complete the task I assigned, forgot to secure the computer properly, and failed to report the problem to me once he realized his error?

Is it my responsibility for giving the computer to a student aide (a high school senior) instead of contacting the student myself?

And, once we determine who is responsible, should that person or group have to replace the computer?

If you have ideas, I would love your input and suggestions.

Just when we least expect it, something comes along to wake us up!  Between first and second period yesterday, one of my students walked in and said, “There’s a fight in the hall,” as if this were a common occurrence.

I maneuvered my way through the students in the large commons area until I found three male teachers trying to break up two angry, very angry girls, who were fighting. Since I came up from behind, I grabbed the smaller girl who had her back to me and moved her away.

She didn’t top five feet and probably only weighed 90 pounds on a good day, but that child was angry and STRONG, very strong!  While I tried desperately to hold on to her, she drug my very large body all over the hall and finally got away and picked up a chair to throw.

I grabbed her again and pushed her inside an empty classroom where she did her best to try to escape as I closed the door and blocked her passage. She kept trying to get out to go after the other girl – even when administrators and the campus police officer arrived.

Out of Control!  The girl was out of control!

In all of my 50+ years, I have never been as out of control as this young girl was. How does someone so young, probably 13 or 14 years old, become so angry?  Why does someone so young become so angry?

I don’t know what happened to the young lady. In fact, I don’t even know her name. I suppose she has been suspended for a few days, probably a few more days than the other girl since she had to be restrained and refused to stop fighting.

After the fight, I walked back inside my classroom and then it hit me that the fight was the first fight I had helped to break up in almost a decade.  Momentarily, I remembered all of those days at a different school when I had to break up fights every week. Once after a particularly violent girl fight, I had promised myself that I would never try to break up two girls again.

I forgot that promise yesterday, but I survived.

As long as I stick to breaking up fights between girls half my size, maybe I’ll be just fine.

Have you ever noticed that the kids who exasperate us because they can't think critically inside our classrooms do just fine on their own outside of our classrooms? Maybe they only think critically when they must solve problems that they find interesting or pertinent to their own lives.

Years ago at the end of a faculty meeting, a teacher stood up (That was a long time ago!) and asked the principal to restrict how often "the office" called into classrooms and requested teachers to send kids out of class. The principal reminded the teacher that sometimes situations happen that require  administrators to see students or parents show up in the front office to check-out students during class. He promised, however, to only interrupt class when it was absolutely necessary.

The same teacher stood up and complained a little more forcefully once again at the next faculty meeting, and the principal reiterated his commitment to only interrupt classes when necessary.

By the time the teacher stood up on the third faculty meeting, several people groaned that low, wearisome moan that teachers emit at the end of afternoon faculty meetings when one teacher's comments or questions extend faculty meetings even longer. The teacher was incensed about all of the interruptions, but other teachers apparently handled the interruptions with more patience.

A few weeks later, however, a teacher walking amid the portable classrooms (trailers) in the parking lot uncovered the source of the teacher's frustration when he spotted several young men fooling around with the cables outside the teacher's classroom.

Can kids think critically?

After an extensive investigation, the principal discovered that the boys had patched a line from outside the trailer into the classroom intercom system. Without any authority, for close to two months, one student aid had "called in" to the teacher's classroom repeatedly and requested that the teacher send one of the student's friends to the office. The student would then leave the classroom and meet his buddies in the "Smoke Hole," that lovely area of the campus where we used to allow students to smoke between classes.

The principal later interviewed many students and discovered that two students had called scores of students out of the teacher's classroom, day after day, just for the heck of it. No wonder the teacher had been so furious about classroom interruptions!

By the way, these creative students were on the "General" track, that route to graduation that required the least work, the least thought, and the least challenge.

Who says kids can't think critically?

Last week one of my best students served time in In-School Suspension (ISS) for failure to follow proper check-out procedures. From what I can gather from the student and other teachers, one day during the previous week, the student had brought a note to check-out of school. The attendance clerk called home to verify the note and then gave the student a pass to return to the office to check-out later in the day.

The student attended her morning classes and then reported to my class where she delivered a 25-minute group presentation, the culmination of a long group project that the students had been working on for several weeks. Needless to say, group members were nervous and then delighted when they finished the presentation. At the end of the presentation, the jovial student left my room to check out.

Unfortunately, the student forgot to return to the attendance office to sign-out. Instead, she went immediately to her car and drove off campus.

Because she failed to sign-out officially, administrators assigned her 3 days in ISS.

The student was crestfallen. She had never been sent to an administrator for misbehavior before. In fact, she is a stellar student who volunteers her time to help teachers, administrators, and fellow students. Because she is so responsible and enthusiastic, she is well known and respected. Upon hearing of the discipline infraction, her teachers contacted administrators to explain that this is not a student who would ever knowingly break rules and asked that the administration rescind the ISS punishment. The administrators talked to the student once again and promised her that they would reduce her punishment from 3 days of ISS to 2 days if she behaved properly while she was in ISS.

Behaved properly?  This is a student who always behaves properly, a student who unfortunately made a mistake on one day by not properly signing out.

In the end the student was given two days to serve, and teachers were frustrated because administrators appeared to care more about being consistent in enforcing rules instead of looking at the individual situation of a conscientious student. What is the intent of having students sign-out officially? The rule was established years ago to cover students who were skipping class and then trying to convince faculty members that they were really just checking out. Was this student skipping class? Absolutely not – everyone agrees that she just forgot to go by the office a second time.

Does she deserve punishment? Probably so – we have to have a record of who is on campus and who leaves. However, giving one, two, or three days of ISS for her first rule infraction in four years is heavy handed and certainly not in the best interest of the child.

On the first day the student served time in ISS, I sent her a note and told her how much I appreciated her positive attitude, enthusiasm, and interest in other people. I also emphasized that in life we all have bad things happen to us or things that appear unfair. As the student sat in ISS with so many other students who had skipped school, misbehaved, and interrupted classes, I wanted her to know just how much her teachers respect her. The following day she came by before school to thank me and to tell me how much my note meant to her.

We are all confronted with hundreds of situations during the day, situations where students make mistakes, misbehave, or act erratically. Sometimes it's difficult to determine what to do. When I'm trying to decide how to handle a situation, even when I am upset, angry, or frustrated, I always have to remind myself to

Err on the side of the student.

As a result, students may get away with a few transgressions, but I'm okay with that. I couldn't sleep at night if I thought that I had punished a student unfairly.