"Your class looks very kindergarden-ish"

Thank you so much for all of the encouraging words about my first blog post! As I sit here enjoying the second snow in a row, I've been trying to think about the best way to start sharing my student's stories. There's already so much that has happened since August and unfortunately, so many details already forgotten. So before I delve into writing about stories at they occur, I'll update you all on some of the "highlights" so to speak from the Fall.


Perhaps one of the hardest things I've had to come to term with as a teacher is this notion: My students aren't going to love coming to class and learning science every day?! Even more so, my students aren't going to automatically like ME? Crap! And there is no student that has taught me this more than a female who we will refer to as "K." Let me paint a picture of our first interaction: First day of school, August 25th. In hindsight, getting through that day is somewhat of a blur. Somehow I survived my introduction to classroom rules and consequences for my 2nd and 3rd block classes. Despite all the warnings I had gotten from coworkers and other TFA members that some student was bound to call me a "b*tch" or stand up and proclaim "we ain't gonna listen to this white chick!" ...it hadn't happened yet. No student had challenged me. No student had really done anything. It was too good to be true. 


And then my 4th block class walked in. Last class of the day. I began distributing cards telling them where their assigned seat was. "K" walked in after about a minute or so with a somewhat perplexed look on her face. In that instant I remember meeting her and her mother at the Open House event two nights earlier and remembered her being much more talkative than the other students I had met. My stomach began to turn a bit. 


Me: "Welcome! Come on in; your card tells you which seat you'll be sitting in this year." 


K: "Umm...alright."


She proceeded to strut right in and strike up a loud conversation with two other females in the class. Realization #1: she wasn't thrilled to be here. Realization #2: she definitely talks a lot. 


K: "Ms. Merrill... your class looks very, kindergarden-ish," she said in a snide way as she looked around the classroom. I had spent over 20 hours working on every detail of that classroom thank you very much. The wall tracker for each of my classes, the rules and rewards posters, the inspirational quotes, steps of the scientific method, exceptional student work board, the MLK lion code. 


Me: "Why thank you!"


Why thank you? What kind of response what that to an 8th grade student who dared sass me like that on the first day. But I remember what my program director and veteran teachers told me: never let them see you sweat. If they say anything bothersome or disrespectful, don't show that it affects you. It was then I knew that K would be the student I needed to make an example of as I talked about the consequences for not following the rules in my room. I tried to keep my nerves calm as I prepared to begin. 


After everyone sat down, I began the speech I had already gone through with my two previous classes. I introduced myself and talked about the agenda we would be going over. K, whose seat was conveniently located in the first row kept snickering at me, making faces to other students, and obnoxious comments as I was trying to continue. In my head I kept telling myself to not lose my cool. Once I finally got to introducing consequences, I made sure to sound firm. 


"Now that you all know what the five rules of this classroom are, here is what will happen if my students choose NOT to follow these rules. First, you will receive a warning. Nothing happens during a warning except for your name going on the board."


K clearly did not like the sound of this. She started laughing as if I would never have the power to enforce these consequences; but then as a I continued, she started angrily doodling on a piece of paper. Finally she blurted out, "ohh my gooddd... seriously?!?"


I responded. "Thank you so much K for demonstrating how to NOT follow the rule of respect. That is your warning" I wrote her name on the board. 


K: "I didn't do ANYTHING. Oh my god I hate this class already."


I could feel my face turn red and my body start to tingle. But I was following exactly the procedure I had been taught for delivering consequences! Shouldn't K just see that she is being disruptive and disrespectful? Why can't she just be quiet like all of the other students? It only got worse from there. As I continued to talk about what happens after a student gets a warning, I continued to move her name along with them. She mimicked how I talked. 


Me: "K, silent lunch." I wrote her name down on my behavior chart so that she knew I wouldn't forget.


K: "Oh yeah? We'll see about that." She turned around and made eye contact with one of her home girls. 


At the end of class I realized she was a car rider, thank God. I didn't have to walk her to the bus. As she got up to leave angrily, I pulled her aside by the door.


Me: "Listen, K. I have you down on my clipboard for silent lunch tomorrow because you were disrespectful and disruptive as I was talking to the class. Next time you are here, I want you to think about these behaviors and what you can do to change them."...That didn't go over so well.


K: "It's not my problem YOU think I'm disrespectful. I say what I wanna say and however people react to it is their problem."


I wasn't getting through. So I tried a different method: Get in her face and show her I wasn't scared of her.


Me: "So you think if I came at you and started going, 'this is ridiculous, I'm not listening to these stupid rules' - that you wouldn't be at all upset?" 


K: "FINE." She took out her behavior tracker and scribbled down the words "disrespectful: silent lunch" next to the date August 25th and stormed out of the classroom. 


And that is how my first day of teaching ended. Even though my first two blocks went smoothly and nobody else in the 4th block class gave me trouble, my mind only found one thing to perseverate on: K. Her voice, "Your room looks very...kindergarten-ish" kept ringing in my head all night. I had only conquered one day of school and I already had a student that disliked me. Great. 


That interaction was almost five months ago and I can still vividly recall that first 4th block class. What I can tell you now is that my relationship with K has changed significantly since that first day. But it did not happen over night. And the couple more stories to follow this one will paint how she and I are slowly (let me emphasize again the word slowly) starting to understand one another. 

Here are two pictures of my classroom at the beginning of the year:

The Wall Tracker. Each of my six classes has all of their assessments tracked as a class average. I gave each class the name of a famous scientist to represent them. Our big goal is to collectively score at 80% mastery or above.

The main white board in my classroom. I use this as a hub of information: student birthdays, science content we've covered in the news, a countdown until they take the EOG's, class homework averages, etc. This is a main investment tool I use to show the students I care about them and that science surrounds us in our daily lives.

Thank you all for reading!

Katherine

The First Snow Day as a Teacher

I can't articulate what has motivated me to finally begin a blog on the evening of CMS' first snow day of 2011. Perhaps it's the shock of actually having some spare time. Or maybe it's the desire to do something productive. Either way, as I reflect upon making it to the halfway mark of my first year teaching (which at many times I doubted possible), I have realized today that the precious and painful stories of the past four months as a first-year teacher cannot be left in my own mind to forever perseverate on. I want them out there for friends, families, and acquaintances to read about. I want them here to draw upon for wherever else life may take me.


This will sound like the ultimate cliche, but very recently I've become excited about life. Let me put it this way: when many people go through high school and college, they follow a path or "pattern" so to speak. In high school, you start to take Honors and AP classes to impress college admissions departments. You continue to thrive in your hobbies such as sports, student council, or dance. By junior year, you start touring colleges and take the SAT's (and if you're like me, you take them twice because you're a horrible standardized test taker). Then before you know it, you're off to college, living in a dorm, and agonizing over what to major in. You somehow meet even better friends than you had in high school, join a sorority or fraternity, study abroad, and rise into new hobbies and leadership positions on campus. You move off campus with best friends to live in apartments and houses. You thrive in your major classes, struggle through senior seminar, apply to graduate schools, jobs, and before you know it, graduation has slapped you across the face.


And here I am, living alone in Charlotte, North Carolina 8 months post college graduation. I am paying rent, bills, and car insurance. I still have wonderful friends, a boyfriend, and family that supports me on a daily basis no matter where they are. I have a job. And oh wait... that job title is: 8th grade science teacher. Nowhere in that "pattern" I spoke of before did it end in me teaching students basic chemistry at a Title I middle school in Charlotte. But yet here I am learning, struggling, and fighting for my 70 students' achievement every day. My mom told me during this winter break that, "Teach for America sure knew what they were doing when they selected you." You always have to smile when your parent's compliment you like that. They're your parents, they're supposed to say that, right? But this past week I've really begun to think. Even if Teach for America and the field of Education wasn't in that original "path" I was paving for myself... it's in my path now. The 5:30am alarm, 20 minute "lunch breaks" with hundreds of 8th graders in the cafeteria, 15-hour work days, and endless lesson planning are all leading me somewhere down the path. And though I am not sure where that path goes, I'm excited for it. 


Since I haven't stated it yet, let me do so now: I LOVE my 70 students. I do. It's taken me a while to get to this place (trust me, I probably wouldn't have said that in October). But this past week back after winter break has solidified this realization. My kids drive me nuts. They make me laugh, cry, grow, agonize and everything in between. But these children will be the reason I am a stronger person. And this blog is a place where I plan to share them and the many entertaining and meaningful stories they've given me. I do not plan to share their actual names for the purpose of their privacy, but I hope that if you choose to read this blog, that my stories as a first-year teacher entertain, comfort, and inform you in some way. Here's to the next 5 months and all the more learning that is ahead of me. 


Katherine