Tuesday, June 26, 2007
A Breath of Fresh Air
Underwood High School's graduation was last week. I decided to attend, partly to keep my girlfriend company as she watched her senior statistics students graduate and partly because these were many students in the crowd whom I taught, either when they were freshmen, when they were juniors, or in few cases, both. They held the graduation in the same place they do every year, in a local college basketball arena, and families filled the upper deck bleachers getting ready to watch the happy seniors receive their diplomas.
The ceremony filled me with that strange mixture of pride and frustration that characterized much of my teaching career. This is fitting, since these were the first class I ever had the opportunity to teach at Underwood. We entered that building together and during the course of three years we learned from each other to varying degrees. Granted, my lessons tended more towards the academic, but I'd like to think that a few students learned more from me than how to calculate molarity or distinguish between physical and chemical changes. And I learned from them. I learned how to design engaging lessons, how to react to the unexpected, and how to maintain a veneer of calm as the world descends into madness...even if that world is only the size of a classroom.
As I sat there watching the valedictorian and the salutatorian, both of whom were A students in my chemistry class last year, deliver their speeches, there was a small part of me that wondered whether I had made the correct decision to leave the teaching profession. After all, I had taught a few really great kids! 18 of the top 25 students in the class had been in my science class at some point during their academic career, and now they were heading off to great schools like Temple, Lafayette, and the University of Pennsylvania. Here was the proof, dressed in cap and gown, that a teacher's efforts are not entirely in vain.
At the same time, however, there were reminders that not all was as it should be. A disclaimer at the bottom of the program noted that the Class of 2007 listed in the program "[did] not necessarily indicate completion of graduation requirements." And for every good student I saw taking the stage to receive their diploma, there were two or three kids who had made my life miserable on a surprisingly regular basis and who had definitely failed my class at least once. Despite the continuous reminders provided by my girlfriend (whose stories definitely merit posts of their own either on my blog or hers), my departure from Underwood had somehow led me to forget these rowdy, disruptive students who had not only refused my help, but insulted me in the process.
The point of this rambling is that even after a full year out of the classroom, teaching possesses an ambiguous emotional resonance for me, one that any discussion of teaching in the inner city is capable of evoking. Such was the case for me this afternoon when I turned on the radio to Terry Gross' unique take on the subject on today's episode of Fresh Air. Gross decided to interview two public school teachers who had both been physically assaulted in their classrooms to describe the state of education in the inner city. Both teachers were white males, veteran teachers with plenty of experience under their belts, and eminently qualified educators. And yet this wasn't enough to protect them from receiving serious injuries.
Listening to their stories, I recognized a pattern in the chaos they described outside their classrooms and could draw direct parallels to the challenges they faced getting kids to stop eating in class, turn off their iPods or CD players, and just accept the reality of the teacher's authority over them. Thankfully, none of my more outlandish tactics to accomplish these objectives landed me in the hospital with a brain injury, shattered vertebrae, or a broken jaw. But that doesn't mean that I, or any of my fellow teachers, remain unscarred. As one of the interviewed teachers observes, most new teachers leave the job within the first five years. It is a physically and emotionally draining profession in even the best of circumstances, when one is able to avoid being sprayed with a fire extinguisher or harassed by students who aren't supposed to be in a given class.
In a way, the stories that these teachers present are therefore atypical. After all, these men were only invited to share their stories with a national radio audience due to the extremity of their injuries. Does this render the interview irrelevant? Certainly not. The issues considered are ones of serious import to anyone interested in educational reform. The role of race in the classroom, the lack of parental and administrative support structures, the inadequacy of disciplinary systems---these are all issues about which educational reformers (even less serious ones like yours truly) have written at length. Perhaps the most fascinating section of the interview, at least to me, is when the teachers are asked to reflect on their emotional state following the incidents that led them to the hospital. The two men have very different takes on their respective situations. One is self-effacing, almost blaming himself for his inability to reach out to the kids who hurt him. He claims the initial anger he felt towards them has defused. The other teacher, whose assault case against the student in question wound up getting thrown out of juvenile court, is less sanguine. He warns us that while sensitivity and understanding are excellent ideals towards which to strive, sensitivity would not have stopped this student from punching him. That stemmed from a deeper disconnect between how teacher and student viewed their respective roles in the school power hierarchy. And this, he suggests, is a result of other broader issues, some of which is beyond the school's ability to firmly control, like teenage pregnancy, and others that it potentially could, for example the antagonism that exists between teacher and principal as well as principal and superintendent.
But throughout the interview, even as they describe the violence, the frustration, and the other burdens of teaching, there remains a hint in both men's voices of the ambiguity I felt at Underwood's graduation. The mixture of highs and lows, love and hate, that characterized my career as a science educator and those of my colleagues can be found in the stories of these teachers, who literally shed blood while trying to help their students. I think that anyone who is interested in going into teaching as a profession or simply wishes to have a deeper appreciation of the complexities involved would be well served by listening to their stories.
An archived copy of this interview can be found HERE.
Comments are open and the posting of reactions is encouraged. Can inner city schools be fixed? How can security incidents like the ones described here be effectively prevented? Are the opinions of either of the men being interviewed on point? (For that matter, are my opinions on point?!?) And what can be done to more effectively retain new teachers and prevent them from leaving, as I did, rather than staying on to fight the good fight?
Underwood High School's graduation was last week. I decided to attend, partly to keep my girlfriend company as she watched her senior statistics students graduate and partly because these were many students in the crowd whom I taught, either when they were freshmen, when they were juniors, or in few cases, both. They held the graduation in the same place they do every year, in a local college basketball arena, and families filled the upper deck bleachers getting ready to watch the happy seniors receive their diplomas.
The ceremony filled me with that strange mixture of pride and frustration that characterized much of my teaching career. This is fitting, since these were the first class I ever had the opportunity to teach at Underwood. We entered that building together and during the course of three years we learned from each other to varying degrees. Granted, my lessons tended more towards the academic, but I'd like to think that a few students learned more from me than how to calculate molarity or distinguish between physical and chemical changes. And I learned from them. I learned how to design engaging lessons, how to react to the unexpected, and how to maintain a veneer of calm as the world descends into madness...even if that world is only the size of a classroom.
As I sat there watching the valedictorian and the salutatorian, both of whom were A students in my chemistry class last year, deliver their speeches, there was a small part of me that wondered whether I had made the correct decision to leave the teaching profession. After all, I had taught a few really great kids! 18 of the top 25 students in the class had been in my science class at some point during their academic career, and now they were heading off to great schools like Temple, Lafayette, and the University of Pennsylvania. Here was the proof, dressed in cap and gown, that a teacher's efforts are not entirely in vain.
At the same time, however, there were reminders that not all was as it should be. A disclaimer at the bottom of the program noted that the Class of 2007 listed in the program "[did] not necessarily indicate completion of graduation requirements." And for every good student I saw taking the stage to receive their diploma, there were two or three kids who had made my life miserable on a surprisingly regular basis and who had definitely failed my class at least once. Despite the continuous reminders provided by my girlfriend (whose stories definitely merit posts of their own either on my blog or hers), my departure from Underwood had somehow led me to forget these rowdy, disruptive students who had not only refused my help, but insulted me in the process.
The point of this rambling is that even after a full year out of the classroom, teaching possesses an ambiguous emotional resonance for me, one that any discussion of teaching in the inner city is capable of evoking. Such was the case for me this afternoon when I turned on the radio to Terry Gross' unique take on the subject on today's episode of Fresh Air. Gross decided to interview two public school teachers who had both been physically assaulted in their classrooms to describe the state of education in the inner city. Both teachers were white males, veteran teachers with plenty of experience under their belts, and eminently qualified educators. And yet this wasn't enough to protect them from receiving serious injuries.
Listening to their stories, I recognized a pattern in the chaos they described outside their classrooms and could draw direct parallels to the challenges they faced getting kids to stop eating in class, turn off their iPods or CD players, and just accept the reality of the teacher's authority over them. Thankfully, none of my more outlandish tactics to accomplish these objectives landed me in the hospital with a brain injury, shattered vertebrae, or a broken jaw. But that doesn't mean that I, or any of my fellow teachers, remain unscarred. As one of the interviewed teachers observes, most new teachers leave the job within the first five years. It is a physically and emotionally draining profession in even the best of circumstances, when one is able to avoid being sprayed with a fire extinguisher or harassed by students who aren't supposed to be in a given class.
In a way, the stories that these teachers present are therefore atypical. After all, these men were only invited to share their stories with a national radio audience due to the extremity of their injuries. Does this render the interview irrelevant? Certainly not. The issues considered are ones of serious import to anyone interested in educational reform. The role of race in the classroom, the lack of parental and administrative support structures, the inadequacy of disciplinary systems---these are all issues about which educational reformers (even less serious ones like yours truly) have written at length. Perhaps the most fascinating section of the interview, at least to me, is when the teachers are asked to reflect on their emotional state following the incidents that led them to the hospital. The two men have very different takes on their respective situations. One is self-effacing, almost blaming himself for his inability to reach out to the kids who hurt him. He claims the initial anger he felt towards them has defused. The other teacher, whose assault case against the student in question wound up getting thrown out of juvenile court, is less sanguine. He warns us that while sensitivity and understanding are excellent ideals towards which to strive, sensitivity would not have stopped this student from punching him. That stemmed from a deeper disconnect between how teacher and student viewed their respective roles in the school power hierarchy. And this, he suggests, is a result of other broader issues, some of which is beyond the school's ability to firmly control, like teenage pregnancy, and others that it potentially could, for example the antagonism that exists between teacher and principal as well as principal and superintendent.
But throughout the interview, even as they describe the violence, the frustration, and the other burdens of teaching, there remains a hint in both men's voices of the ambiguity I felt at Underwood's graduation. The mixture of highs and lows, love and hate, that characterized my career as a science educator and those of my colleagues can be found in the stories of these teachers, who literally shed blood while trying to help their students. I think that anyone who is interested in going into teaching as a profession or simply wishes to have a deeper appreciation of the complexities involved would be well served by listening to their stories.
An archived copy of this interview can be found HERE.
Comments are open and the posting of reactions is encouraged. Can inner city schools be fixed? How can security incidents like the ones described here be effectively prevented? Are the opinions of either of the men being interviewed on point? (For that matter, are my opinions on point?!?) And what can be done to more effectively retain new teachers and prevent them from leaving, as I did, rather than staying on to fight the good fight?
Comments:
This isn't relevant to your post. Have you noticed that "free" has picked up Rennes.blogspot.com (former location of The French Connection) and has posted twice about the city of Rennes?
Yes. In fact, I commented on it here. I should probably update the Invisible Blogroll one of these days...
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