Work Hard! Get Smart!

I had my first Unit Test the past two days. I set up the desks like a lecture hall. They were all facing my teacher desk so that I could sit in my chair and just watch them all. No desk was hidden behind another desk, I could see every single kid.

My first period class, the angels, silently took their test. They followed directions about turing in their test. They all finished their test within the allotted time. Awesome. One kid even said "Miss, I love these seats, it reminds me of college!"

Basically my whole A day (Tuesdays, my fav) went well. A stands for awesome, and A stands for angels. Awesome Angels.

Today, B day, was bad. B stands for bad, and B stands for behavior. Bad Behavior.

Wow, the cheating. I've seen cheating in my many years of being a student, but seeing it as a teacher is just annoying. I'm sitting at the front of the room, I see a kid wondering his eyes around, I stare at him until he notices, he notices that I noticed, and does a little neck roll. AS IF I REALLY BELIEVE YOU HAVE TO ROLL YOUR NECK EVERY 5 MINUTES. KEEP YOUR EYES ON YOUR OWN PAPER. ugh. Stop cheating, seriously. Little do they know that grades really don't mean anything in middle school. What means something are these silly TAKs tests (standardized test of Texas), and if they cheat on my test, they will get higher scores and then later on fail the TAKs. If they don't cheat, and get low scores, I will tutor them in the areas that they need in order to pass TAKs later. You are cheating yourself.

By my last period I just gave them that speech. Nobody cheated. Ohhh the things I learn as the day goes on.

As I was looking through some of the tests I noticed a strange thing. At the top of the test, the heading.

Name________________

Period________________

Date__________________

Work Hard!______________

Our motto is Work Hard! Get Smart!

So after Work Hard! they were supposed to write Get Smart! A simple task, especially because it's written really big on two different walls. HUGE actually.

These are some of the things I saw in their heading...

Work Hard! OK.

Work Hard! Yes

Work Hard! No

I am sitting at my desk trying to grade papers and I am distracted by the fact that a kid said Work Hard, No. He must be trying to be funny. But, who is he trying to be funny for? This is on a test, no one else should be seeing this except for the kid and me. I don't understand. Funny? Maybe. I laughed, well gawked I guess. So today, I tracked him down, and said "we need to talk." I said "what's our motto?" he said "Work Hard. Get Smart." I asked, "So why did you write Work Hard. No." At this point there is absolutely no eye contact being made. He is staring at the ground, and he knows he's in trouble. He shrugged. So, I asked, "Did you think it was funny?" He smirked. I stared. He finally looked at me, then looked away quickly again. I asked, "Was it worth being a smart aleck? He shook his head. I asked, "What are you going to write next time you see Work Hard. _______?" He said, "Get Smart." I said, "Okay."

Well, that went well. I'm pretty sure you are not supposed to confront kids like that, but it made me so mad that he actually put No. No, I do not want to work hard. The thing is, he doesn't work hard. While everyone is reading their reading packet, he's staring at his pencil. Why? I don't get it. Everyone is reading, why aren't you reading? Frustration. Pure, frustration. The thought comes to me that maybe he can't read.

I have to figure out how to get this kid to really believe that if he works hard, he will get smart. Tis the goal. If this means I have to somehow teach him how to read first, I will. I don't know how, but I will. After all, this would not be the hardest task on my lists of things to do, I also have to teach two kids who just moved to the U.S. how to speak English. Maybe on my list of things to do, this should come after me learning how to speak Spanish, maybe.

Later-

Miss Miss.

(Never in my life did I think I would actually respond to someone saying Miss, Miss)

wednesday night lights, minus the lights.

"Coach- i'm not frustrated, i'm pissed off."


This followed the statement... "Ian, don't get frustrated, you're doing great out there."
You think college football refs are flawed... try middle school.

We lost 20-0. Tough game. Lots of missed calls, refs not knowing the rules, not knowing what down it was, and injuries. One of our o-line guys got taken to the hospital in an ambulance because of a face mask and then shot to the back of the head...things were really getting out of hand. Blocks in the back, left and right, catches called no good. We were getting beaten up physically and mentally.

It was frustrating. It was a very emotional game, and these kids gave it there all. We definitely have potential and I'm really excited to see these kids grow.


Night.
-Coach

here are some more pics...Our Welcoming

Walking to the locker room

My Team

Crazy bunch of kids!

"Everybody ready? You know it. Everybody ready? You know it. Exercise."

Center and QB workin together.


Whose Father? Our Father.
Coach Garcia layin down the law.

Raw emotion.
Wednesday night, middle school football. Go big or go home.

My first open house.

No, we have not had an open house at our apartment yet. We are still working on moving in 3 months later....

Open House refers to the night where parents come to the school mostly to find out if their son/daughter is passing. Our open house was from 6-8pm on Thursday night. What a long day. I got to school at 7:15am, had school until 3:55pm, football from 4-6, and then changed and rushed to the Auditorium. We then moved the 6th parents into the cafeteria to give them our little shpeel and introduce the teachers. We were expecting a few rows of parents, but they ended up filling the whole place. This was exciting. Our expectation as teachers in this area was that only a few parents would come to this open house, whether it was because they had other children at different schools, they were at work, or, sadly, because they didn't care. The presentation was a little shaky, and I was facing some mad anxiety due to the fact that most people were talking over the speaker. Our attempts to shush the hundreds of people were cruelly shut down, mostly because the speaker was speaking English, and the majority of the parents only spoke Spanish. Let's face it, if someone was talking at a big group of people in German and you had no idea what they were saying, you'd get bored and start talking to your family and friends too.

So, after the presentation, the parents were told they could go around to the classrooms of their students and talk to the teachers. I ran up to my room at waited for eager parents who just wanted to know "how is she doing." For many of the starry eyed little girls who accompanied their mothers, I opened with "well this one is a trouble maker, nahhh I'm just kidding." They all seemed to enjoy the joke, and pretty much knew that their daughters were angels. For others I told the parents that their kids were talkers, and they all seemed to confirm this fact. The only word I can think of to describe these encounters would be awkward. They were hanging on my every word, I was waiting for them to laugh or smile, and I pretty much just wanted it to be over so I could go home and go to bed. It was, however, nice to see the faces of the people who claimed my munchkins. Many parents spoke English, and encouraged me to call them whenever necessary. Some spoke no English and had a translator in tow (usually their son or daughter). I was getting a little tired of telling parents the same positive things over and over again, and then I realized that the parents of my trouble-makers were no where to be seen. I had about 3 seconds to think about that, and then in walked Jessica and her parents...

No more than 5 hours before, Jessica had received her first detention ever. My A4 class had been giving me a lot of trouble, so I halted instruction and said, "Okay, we are going to have 5 minutes of complete silence in order for you all to collect your thoughts and think about how the rest of class is going to change. The only stipulation is that if you speak, you will automatically receive a detention." I then checked for understanding where the student said, "If you talk, you get a detention." Very good, exactly, plain and simple. Go. 3 minutes and 12 seconds passed before Jessica raised her hand, I looked at her with wide angry eyes, and shook my head no. She then blurted out "Can I...?" I interrupted her immediately and said, "We are not talking." I then visibly pulled out a detention slip and started furiously scribbling in her information. She was devastated. Everyone looked around in disbelief. Did she really just talk? All she had to do was wait 2 more minutes. But no. Now I was writing a detention for a girl who had always been praised by every single teacher. Unfortunately, I could not take back my threat, and went along with it. Policy is to give a copy of the detention slip to the Assistant Principal who happens to have an office right across the hall. He was walking by, so I popped my head out and gave him the slip. He asked me what happened and I told him everything. He came into my classroom and proceed to give a speech to my kids about respecting me, and how they were hear to learn, don't waste time, and all of that. A known school trouble maker was sitting at the desk right under his nose. The AP put his hand on his desk and said how is Leo doing? I replied, "He's doing great." Leo looked up. The AP asked, "He's not giving you trouble?" I replied, "No, he's been awesome today." Now, not only was Leo looking up, but his eyes opened wide as if he had never heard these words uttered in his life. In a harsh moment, this look made my heart melt. The AP then said he needed to speak with the holder of the detention. He looked at the slip and said, "Jessica?" She raised her hand slightly and nodded at him. He quickly questioned the fact that this was the person who was receiving the detention, "You?" She nodded again, and he motioned for her to come with him. I continued instruction until Jessica came back in, tears streaming down her face. She walked right up to me and said, "I'm sorry Ms. Schwartz, it will never happen again." I said "thank you," and continued with the lesson. I tried to act as if I was not phased, but this had definitely affected me.

When she and her parents walked into my room that night, I was ready for the conversation. I proceeded to tell them that she is a very bright girl who is plagued by chatting. All she does is talk. I played the card that she was very social, and they got the gist of what I was saying. The parents seemed very pleased with what I was saying and the mother even told me to keep an eye on her and that if anything else happened that I should not hesitate to call. Phew. Crisis averted.

Not soon afterward, Tiffany entered my room with her very young mother. Tiffany is my favorite student. She's cool, she's calm, she's collected. She works hard and plays hard, and at the end of the day she comes to me to tell me all about it. She asks questions. She helps others. She is the perfect student. Except, she is also very social. She likes when people laugh at her jokes, she loves the camera. She loves sports and dancing, and is really involved in after school activities. Her scores are average, but I know she can succeed. She wants to succeed, and I want to help her. She is, however, constantly late to my class. She talks out of turn to get the laughs, and she eggs the trouble makers on to get more laughs. Again, I want to help her. Her mother was also a talker, she talked my ear off about what Tiff needs to do differently in my class. I really appreciated her concern, and this just made me love Tiffany even more.

The rest of the open house dragged on after that. I was relieved to hear the announcement from our principal that it was time to leave. I did a little grading, and then packed up my things. I went door to door to see if anyone was leaving so I could walk out with them. Unfortunately, everyone had left. I had never left the building after dark, and this was the first time I was actually frightened of the area. Every noise startled me. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, and did a little shuffle to my car. I quickly locked the doors and sighed heavily. I then though about the fact that I felt unsafe. It saddened me, but it was a reality.


Time for bed.

Care

Kids say the darndest things...

"Miss, Miss... you're my second favorite teacher."

Beauty

I drive to work every morning between 6:30-7:30, depending on how much work I need to do at school. Each morning, the clouds are different patterns, the sun is a different color, the sky is a different blue, there are more/less cars on the road. A lot of this has to do with science, well all of it if you consider traffic a science.


These 15-28 minutes I spend in the car each morning are the calm before the storm. I never know exactly what awaits me, but I'm pretty sure that it is stormier than my peaceful drive. Everyday I wonder. Everyday I hope. Some days I pray. Is today going to be good? Please let it be good.


Then I go through the day, and sometimes it's a joy, and other times it's painful. But either way, I got through that day, and there's always tomorrow. I can't dwell on my failures if that is exactly what I am telling my kids not to do.



I have to tell them about that light at the end of the tunnel. Or the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And, believe it or not, I am reminded to do this everyday on my drive to work by the sky. These are all pictures I took on my way to school. I have actually scene the sky in these states. It is absolutely beautiful and not only does it make me smile, but it makes me think that there is a great possibility that I could have a good day. I believe that I would not be witnessing the sun at this very moment where the clouds are fluttering over, at this very specific moment if it was not meant to affect me. If I had left for work at any other time I would not have seen these beautiful horizons. But I did leave at that specific time on that specific day and for that I was blessed by seeing those images, that will forever be ingrained in my head, on the days where I saw beauty on my drive to school, and then had a very successful day teaching. This theory has been tested in other ways as well. Because many may be aware of how often it rains in Houston. Not just rains, pours. Dark skies, sometimes green, and although beautiful, ominous, loud, and overall depressing- sometimes that's exactly how my day feels.


So to relate it to my science lesson today about the Scientific Method...

My hypothesis is: If the sky is pretty on her drive to work, then she will have a good day.

We can test this hypothesis by collecting data about days with pretty skies and days with depressing skies and seeing how my mood is for those days.

That last part just drained me. I'm going to have to call it a night. Hope that wasn't too much rambling.

Caro

football ANTecdote

So, I'm at football practice, and I'm still a little uneasy about this whole manly man, football thing. Ha. I never thought I would say that. But being at a football practice is much different than being a fan. Any man or boy would probably tell you that, but now I know. It is different. It's a behind the scenes look that, as much as I'm loving it, is still uncomfortable at times. I am a girl. Yes. True statement. Girls can't play football. False. I know I have to prove it to them but I am doing it little by little. We were doing dline drills where they were supposed to push us (the coaches) back. They were going easy on me, and I knew it. One kid finally went hard and another kid actually yelled out, "Go easy on her, she's a girl!" I quickly ran back and yelled "if you go easy on me in these drills, how are you going to be able to go hard in games? Do it right. Give me 10." They seemed affected and the next kid actually tried, maybe because he didn't want to do push up, but I knocked him on his butt. He was basically a sacrifice. I didn't want to knock any of them over but I had to show them that they couldn't, shouldn't, go easy on me. Hopefully it worked. The fact that they now know I can give push-ups out is really helping my cause, I almost wish I could do that in class ;)

Anyway, my story... so we were doing a drill trying to teach them to go on 1, 2, or 3 and I was snapping the ball. All of a sudden I got really itchy. I looked down and there were ants all over my foot and ankle, crawling up my leg. In the most non-girly way possible I yelled, "why are there ants all over me?!?" In which I received the non-chalant response, "Coach, you're snapping on top of an ant hill." Of course, that makes perfect sense, and I was. I was standing on an ant hill, continuously snapping the ball and launching ants onto myself. Perfect. At least they didn't make fun of me.

I crave respect. So I will get it.... eventually.

Schwartz

Awesomeness and Tuesdays are synonomous

I love Tuesdays.

In the race for the most awesomeness day of the week, there are clear front runners and clear losers. I've always liked Thursday because you're so close to Friday, but obviously Friday is awesome because it's basically the weekend. Saturday is pretty cool, but you're getting a little too close to Monday, and Sunday is bittersweet because, yeah still the weekend, but all you can think about is how the next day is Monday. You could make an argument for Wednesday being a positive day, because it's Hump Day, and then, of course, Monday is not even in the running. Then there's Tuesday. Sometimes lost in the crowd of days of the week, Tuesday just kind of hangs out, right after Monday and right before Wednesday, still considered the beginning of the week. The slower of the days if you will. But I love Tuesday. It's never going to beat Friday or Saturday, but it's for sure winning the bronze medal. At least this week.

Tuesdays are my A block days. The good kids, if you will. These kids are not talking when I'm talking. They are independently working when they are supposed to be independently working, discussing when they are supposed to be discussing, overall, they are readily participating and excited to learn. Although these may sound like simple tasks, not all of my students have been up to par. But, on Tuesdays, I expect to see this, and I am usually satisfied with the results. The days when the students are excited to learn are the days when I am excited to teach. Again, sounds simple, right? Right. It really is, it is that simple. I smile more on Tuesdays, I laugh more, I joke around more, I teach more. Truth is, they also learn more. It would be easy to say that these are all my GT (gifted/talented) kids, but they're not. They are kids who know that it is disrespectful to talk when someone else is talking, especially when it's a teacher. So, I have come to the simple conclusion that this is exactly what I have to teach my B block kids. It's possible, I know it is, and I truly believe that they will learn more if this is done.

Following the rules/directions is directly correlated to learning more. How do I get this across to them though. It's really become a guessing game. I'm trying certain things with one period, and other things with the next. Across classes, my consistency is non- existent, I have none. We'll just call that differentiated teaching for now though. I have to look at it as if these are skills they need to be successful in life. After all, they are. The frustration that comes over me when I am giving directions and a child interrupts me to ask what he is supposed to do, while I am literally telling him what he needs to do, actually pains me. All I want to say is "If you did not interrupt me you would know by now" but I have to go about it much differently. "There is no talking when I am talking." Place a yellow warning card on desk. Start instructions over. I can't wait until someone videotapes me so I can count just how many times I have to give each direction. Sometimes, I would put money on the fact that I repeated the same direction at least 14 times. Today, I gave a direction to 1. Close your notebook 2. Put it under your desk. Some kids got it on the first try, some got it on the second, a few on the third, the rest on the forth. Except one boy. He was just not paying attention. Spaced out. Own world. I don't know. So, I said it a fifth time, a sixth time, louder, a seventh time. By now all of the kids were looking at him. Finally, the kid sitting next to him nudged him and said "dude, come on" His response, "whaaaat?" At this point, I repeated the directions for an 8th time. Still nothing. A ninth time, now he's looking around. He then looks at me. I look him dead in the eyes and repeat the directions for the 9th time. Then he looks at his notebook. Then at me again, almost for approval. "Yes, close it close it, oh my dear lord please close your notebook" is the look that I gave him. He closes it, and looks at me for approval again. I make a gesture that somehow described the action of putting it under his desk, and then it was done. The general feeling in the room was relief. Except for this one kid, who really did not understand that we just waited for him. So, I went into my speech about following directions the first time. Opening my eyes when I looked at him, and he mouthed "sorry" to me. It's something, I'll take it and run with it. But the fact is, this does not happen on Tuesdays. The frustration is not there. The tension in the room is undetectable. It is a different atmosphere that needs to be in all of my classes, not only for all of the kids' learning, but for my sanity. I'm on this roller coaster ride, where one day I'm high on teaching, and the next day I wonder if I'm cut out for this. Then the next day comes and I remember why I'm doing this, and the day after that I can't wait for them to leave. I'm high, I'm low, up and down, it's stressful to say the least. Add to that the lack of sleep and all my other responsibilities as a TFAer, and I am beat. Just absolutely downright beat. I thought finals week in college was hard, I welcome myself to my new life.

But, at least I can look forward to Tuesdays.

6 more days...

Caro