self portrait of me as a teacher
I recently went to a surprisingly helpful teacher training where a fellow teacher said the quote above. we were discussing how in the first year of teaching, you practically write out a script for every lesson plan so that you feel like you’re somewhat prepared for the ruckus that awaits every new period of class. and in my first year, I was pretty damn “ripe and rotting” – I remember crying almost every week my first two months of teaching, being overwhelmed with planning and performing spectacular and relevant lesson plans everyday, and being disappointed at the lacking ratio of my efforts in relation to my students efforts.
in my second year of teaching, with 2 months left to spring semester, how do I feel? a little of both. I feel a little “green” – I know I’ve grown so much since last year – I can crank out lesson plans subconsciously as I’m waking up in the morning and driving to school; I don’t feel butt hurt every time I get a smart ass comment (“damn teacher, you on your period or somethin?”); I can navigate my way throughout the period where [most] students are engaged and know they’re accountable for learning.
however... I’m definitely still “ripe and rotting” with a lot of other shit. and in my second year, since I got down some strategies as a teacher, I’m starting to realize a lot of other shortcomings of my own, and especially, of my school, and the public school system as a whole. I became a teacher to meet the needs of all students, but the more I teach [or try to teach], the more confused I get as to what exactly my students’ needs are.
the state of california, and my district, seem to know what students’ needs are: getting textbook-based lessons (boring), getting standards-based instruction (boring and tedious, yet… I suppose necessary), having disciplined and structured learning environments (does that mean kicking students off campus right after the bell? getting a suspension notice for at least one of my students every other week?), doing well on standardized tests (boring, boring, tedious, boring).
and I thought I knew what students need: relevant education so that they can become curious and critical thinkers, project-oriented lessons where students apply concepts, a space where they feel valued by everyone. as an english teacher, I give students a lot of space to write about their own experiences, and sometimes these assignments give me another glimpse into what my students really need.
case in point: I recently had a short story unit on the theme of violence, in which their last project was to write their own narrative about how violence has affected them. I knew many of my students could relate to that topic, but little did I know the extent to which they would dive into that topic.
Some excerpts from their narratives:
“How my Mom died”
- “Right after we left the hospital, she died. she died so fast it blinked before my eyes. to me, my mom --- died like ten times the pain of a wound.”
- “My sister put me through therapy because I wouldn’t talk or do anything. every day after school, I had to go talk to him. when people talked about my mom, I would go off then beat their ass. it was hard without my mom even though my sister was like my mom. in my head, I was still thinking that if my dad stayed we still could have been a wealthy, good family. a lot was going on, but I got over it until the judge made me move with my father and stepmom. I didn’t want to stay with them. till this day I still think it was my father ‘s fault she died.”
Another student discussing the time she went to a homeless shelter because her mom left her and sister. She was later ordered by a court to be split from her sister and live with her father.
- “I really want to see her and my mom took that away from me and I bet you she won’t even care. it’s painful for me and my sister because it’s not right. we did everything we was suppose to do. I don’t understand why would somebody want to hurt us because it’s not cool. I really miss her and my mom doesn’t care about neither of us.”
Another student writes a narrative, entitled “Russian Roulette,” where he talks about losing his cousin.
- “what were you thinking ---? you can’t answer the question simply because your laying in your casket, resting in your grave. sometimes I walk around, by the place it all happened. I know you as a reader is wondering what am I talking about, well if you as the reader want to know all you have to do is keep reading. see this tragic event that put me in a sad, mad, ashamed, disappointed mood was when my cousin --- killed hisself. for some apparent reason my cousin ended his own life over “a game.” the game was “russian roulet…”
This student writes a story about her stepdad, who would call her “stupid” and hit her mother.
- “since all that happened, I have learned that life has a lot of obstacles and life has good things, but don’t let any person hit you. what I advise to people is not to let a guy touch you because once they do they will bring you down easily and they will hit you whenever they want. pain is not worth anything because it takes you to hell, makes you miserable, it just brings down all those good dreams down. pain is way bigger than love or living happy.”
I almost cried when I read the following student’s rough draft. She discusses family problems that include her father not wanting to be around and the struggles of remaining silent about her family problems.
- “I used to be so stupid back then because I used to hurt myself back then for every little mistake I made. I remember I tried cutting myself with scissors, pencils and a razor because I got in trouble a lot and the problems that my family had like when my mom and dad talked about getting a divorce ... my mom and dad changed a lot because it started affecting us as a family and it was kind of like we grew apart from each other. so now that my mom and dad fight, my brothers still cry but I tell my brothers it’s not going to change and it’s kind of like I got used to it. this has affected my family because my mom gets tired easily and my dad comes home tired and angry at the world. I don’t even bother to talk to him when he’s pissed. my mom got really affeced by it one time that she couldn’t breath. I got really scared and it was in the night. I dialed 9-1-1 and I thought my mom was going to die but I still had hope that my mom was going to be okay. I was trying to show no emotion because I always try to act like I’m this strong person but I have a lot in me that I want to let out but I can’t because I’ll just break down in tears. nobody really knows how I feel and how much I hold inside so I act like nothing happened. that’s when I started noticing that this is really affecting my family. I feel that me and my mom hold a lot inside that’s hurting us.”
This is just a sample of what my students wrote. It was overwhelming reading paper after paper of things that should never happen to anyone, let alone such young people. One student wrote about how she was almost raped by her 17-year old cousin at the age of eight, and witnessed that same cousin shoot her other two cousins to death. So, what do I do with all this? As I’m reading these essays, I’m both proud at their courage to write about such personal stories, but at the same time I’m thinking: besides needing to be schooled in academic literacy, these students clearly need so much more than that! And I try my best not to treat my students as “victims” – as “oh poor them for going through that.” Because they are not victims, they are such strong and honest and resilient individuals, and they need the space to discuss issues like this. but how do we find the time to really delve into these things, when we’re so busy preparing for tests, or writing essays about The Great Gatsby? I’m already a teacher, a performer, a counselor, a pseudo-parent, a coach, a facilitator, a disciplinarian in the classroom. But the more I learn about my students and where they come from and what they’ve been through, there’s so much more that I have to become in order to meet their needs. There’s so much more beyond my classroom, my school, the district, their families, their neighborhood, that these students need and deserve.
{sigh}. overwhelmed, I am.
