The Sub

When I got the text on my phone this morning, my heart sank. My mentor teacher would be subbing for the Assistant Principal today, and her classroom would have a sub.

I realized just how traumatized I had been by my last placement. The fight in my classroom had broken out with a sub in the room. I almost wanted to call in sick.

But these kids are a lot better behaved than the ones in the last school - and, as I found out over the weekend, from better financial circumstances. Their families are mostly working-class or lower middle-class, not poverty-stricken and crime-ridden. So I decided to give it a try.

My mentor teacher had picked out a short story called "Crash Room" from a collection titled Working Days. I later looked up the book on Amazon and found that School Library Journal and Booklist both called it "uneven"; I found "Crash Room" pretty boring, but I didn't have a say in the matter so I decided to give it a whirl doing a read-aloud. I'm planning to start a unit on Walter Dean Myers's 145th Street next week, so I wanted to get the students used to a different style of teaching.

The sub was extremely impressed. She couldn't compliment me enough, which of course felt great. I wasn't too happy with the questions I was asking the students - basically, all pretty obvious things like: "So what do we know about the narrator at this point?" Almost none of the questions could spark debate, but that was also in part due to the amateurish quality of the writing. For instance, the fact that the protagonist came from a Latino background was not made clear until halfway through the story, and had almost no bearing on it although it was about hospital workers in Texas. Maybe I should have asked the students if they were enjoying the story or not, and if not why not, but I didn't think it was my place to cast aspersions on my mentor teacher's choice of material in her absence. In any case, it's my own fault for not being able to make lemonade.

But I was gratified that, even if there were a couple of sleepers and a few texters over the three periods, there were no behavior issues that were noticeably worse than what I see when Ms. F is around.

First lesson

Well, it wasn't really a lesson, in the sense that I hadn't planned it. I went over a vocabulary worksheet that Mrs. F had assigned to the students last Friday after having graded them and entered the grades into her computer. The worksheet was obviously at least a decade old and possibly older; one of the sample sentences was about how "word processors" had made typewriters "almost obsolete." I took a poll of all three classes, and no one had ever heard of a word processor (although pretty much all of them knew what "obsolete" meant - that was the vocab word). It also talked about Elizabeth Taylor's violet eyes "elicit[ing] admiration and wonder"; the only students who recognized her name associated it with Michael Jackson, not with any particular eye color.

During the first class, which came right before lunch, Mrs. F had to interrupt me a couple of times because I wasn't reacting to conversations happening on the side. I guess I'm still nervous enough in front of a class to just habitually focus on the task at hand as opposed to what I should be doing, which is paying more attention to the nuances of student response - and nipping any potential distraction in the bud.

There's one 19 year-old senior who has a reputation with all the teachers as a troublemaker. He apparently gets away with all kinds of misbehavior, even severe misbehavior like starting a food fight in the cafeteria, because he's on the basketball team. Mrs. F had an interaction with him that ended in referral this afternoon. I met him last Friday and it was clear within moments that he was an attention-getter and limits-tester, but today his anger was so severe when all she did was walk in his general direction to see whose music was on during class time, it wasn't clear to me whether he was fully in control of himself or just launching a preemptive strike because it really was his music. I'm sure there will be more to report on him as the semester goes on.

Being a Guest

My mentor teacher was out today, so by prior arrangement I visited three different classrooms: A Social Studies class in Government and two English classes. Once again I was impressed by the much more respectful behavior of the students compared with my old placement. Is it just the administration that makes such a difference?

The most instructive was the last class I visited, which was probably for juniors since the teacher is beginning to prepare them for their state standardized graduation test. It was the most word-rich environment I've yet encountered in any of the classrooms, with the walls full of posters, definitions, student work and so on, and the 50-minute period was divided up into various activities: A journal entry, sharing, going over the homework assignment, and then reading aloud from the play THE MIRACLE WORKER and discussion.

When the students shared their journals, the teacher was very specific in her praise ("That was very detailed; I hadn't known anything about that comic book hero and now I feel as if I'm familiar with him") and completely left out criticism, I think deliberately. Unlike my old mentor, she did not give points for sharing and told them exactly how much time they would have to answer her journal question ("If you could be any super hero, who would it be and why?").

And in THE MIRACLE WORKER, she took a behavior modification tack in her interpretation that was extremely effective. The kids really picked up on it. Describing the "fight scene" over dinner when Annie Sullivan first tries to get Helen Keller to eat with a spoon, one girl said: "I think Helen knew exactly what she was doing - she was just testing things out to control Annie. But her plan went wrong."

Now, I wonder how many of the students applied that lesson to themselves . . . ?

Sad student story

I was in the other English teacher's classroom at the "9th Grade Academy" last week, because my mentor teacher took a personal day. This teacher, Ms. C, is a former principal whose school was closed down - she never told me why - and who is now trying to make it through her last two years in the classroom before she can retire. "Are you REALLY SURE you want to spend THE REST OF YOUR LIFE doing this?" she asked me several times, when the class simply would not settle down and be quiet no matter how many times she raised her voice.

Unlike my mentor teacher, Ms. C has four working computers and a Smart Board - which basically a white computer touchscreen as big as a blackboard. You can type onto a connected computer and what you are typing shows up on the Smart Board; you can access the Web on it; you can run videos or presentations on it; you can switch to the document camera, place your printed-out grammar worksheet under the camera and everyone will be able to see exactly how you fill out the right answers on it. It is a terrific tool, and much more desperately needed in urban schools where the socioeconomic and cultural backgrounds of most of the students cry out for an engaging curriculum than in the suburban and private schools where such boards are already pretty ubiquitous.

Unfortunately, Ms. C doesn't make any more use of the Smart Board than my mentor, Mrs. D, makes of her room's traditional blackboard. All that was on the high-tech screen was the day's assignments, typed out instead of written in chalk. Mrs. D couldn't tell me why all of the technology was in Ms. C's room and not in hers.

Ms. C told me a terrible story, though. A few weeks ago one of her best students - she pulled out the girl's notebook to show me pages filled with writing, with that wide penmanship that looks like the outline of a daisy chain - went out to the bathroom during "lockout," when police patrol the hallways and classroom doors must be locked. Ms. C had been busy with something else and had forgotten to write her out a pass; the girl's bathroom was just across the hall and down a few feet anyway.

Her student was busted by an officer and taken to the principal's office, where she was summarily suspended for three days. When she came back in tears, the teacher ran down to the principal's office as soon as she could to plead the girl's case. The principal turned Ms. C down, saying "lockout is lockout" and he couldn't make any exceptions. The girl was suspended for three days.

I was shocked. It verges on criminal negligence to punish a motivated young woman so unjustly, perhaps destroying her desire to work hard at her education in the future. Not only that, but at a school like this one, in a rough neighborhood - a school that was labeled "failing" under the No Child Left Behind law and is only in its second year post-reorganization - students like that girl are practically worth their weight in gold, in terms of how few and far between they come. How could anyone be so shortsighted as not to realize that, and still have made it into the administration of a public school in a major city?

My professors assure me that the parents can complain and go over this principal's head, but the whole incident occurred several weeks ago. I don't know if Ms. C ever advised the parents of their options, but as she was a principal herself, she must have known that options exist.

The whole thing is utterly depressing. I'm not scared anymore to teach in an urban school because I am afraid of gang members or drug dealers in my classes. I'm scared to teach in an urban school because I'm afraid that the administrators won't have my back.