Learning to Embrace My Title (Online Reflection #3)

We did it! The year is nearing the end, final papers and narratives are being written, projects and poster boards are covering the room, floor, and hallway, and the only thing anyone can talk about is the 8th grade formal this Friday. 

I know a lot of my fellow interns (myself included) still feel like frauds, interlopers in the profession, but the time to not feel like "real teachers" is drawing to a close. As we shadow in our new buildings and apply for our licenses, we must be willing to take up the mantel and really own who we are as professionals who have worked hard to learn even the small amount we feel we know. 

My students are currently writing narratives imitating the style and creativity of Sandra Cisneros's "My Name," in "The House on Mango Street." They deconstructed it, read an echo, and then began thinking on how to write their own. In an attempt to follow what many of our texts said to do in our "Theory and Practice in Composition" class, I have imitated it for my own life, both for the name "Claire" and the name "Mrs. Watkins." Today I will share my take on really owning both my name and the responsibility that comes with that title.

"My Name"

In society my name means “taken,” but in practice it means “teacher.” I claim the Mrs. when I said I do, but I was always just Miss Claire until there were struggling learners calling and reinforcing it. It means the hope of clarity, of answers, of questions evaporating as the name whines out across the humid room. It is the sound of adulthood; checks being written and companies to call, appointments to be made and people to be responsible for. 

It means tired. When embraced, it is papers spilling out of heavy bags and stickers finding themselves being washed onto sweaters. It comes from a long line of teachers before me, especially my father-in-law. Mr. Watkins, or simply Coach. It means a legacy of caring for young people while pushing them harder than I always understood to a greatness that they didn’t often believe they had. I did not inherit any of his athletic ability, but I aspire to glean his impact on teens.

At times it gets butchered, sometimes out of neglect, sometimes out of love. Miss. Mrs. W. Watts. Teacher. Teeeeeacher. Please learn my name Aaron. I don’t learn any of my teachers’ names. Okay fine. “This is my favorite teacher, Mrs. Watkins.” That one hit me hard. To be given that title is to be given the honor of a memory of a successful adult, looking back on their 8^th grade year with (hopefully) fondness of “that year we had a student teacher who had no clue how to handle the class with 4 girls and 13 boys immediately after lunch.”

I fell in love with this name as a romanticized version of who I was now that I was part of a Watkins team, but the name became more and more mine as I grew in confidence and pride as an educator, someone who deserved respect, someone still growing, but a mere Miss Claire no more.

Learning to Juggle the Responsibilities of Being in Charge (Online Reflection #2)

As Spring Break draws near, I often just feel worn. I feel like I give too many chances, yet have to apologize sometimes for my classroom management missteps. I have really enjoyed taking over the class this last unit, but it was very eye-opening to see the myriad of responsibilities that a teacher takes on beyond teaching the class. I always said I knew that in my head, but to be handed it all in the span of a month was a bit overwhelming.

I spent a week not putting in any grades and had my teacher nervous the students were all failing, I forgot to send work down to the In-School Suspension room and made a student fall behind, I had to call parents for behaviors then forgot to input them in the spreadsheet, I lost first hours graded paper piles not once—but three times—before I entered them into Synergy, I didn’t make dinner for two weeks straight and woke up on a Friday genuinely believing it was Saturday.

What it really came down to was that the plan hours and after work moments didn’t and don’t feel like enough time to “purposefully plan,” go to IEP meetings, eat lunch with kids, and fill out all of the various forms and documentation required to be teaching. I began wondering how I was going to remember to do it all and stop dropping the different balls I’ve been trying to juggle. My desk is covered in sticky notes and my phone is full of reminders, but things still seem to slip through the cracks.

As I started searching for some input for this issue, I found some disheartening statistics as well as some encouraging tips from administrators and teachers alike. As it turns out, teachers were surveyed at working 53 hours a week, 27 of which were spent doing non-teaching activities from grading to planning to parent contacts. This could discourage me, but I needed to find ideas to help me learn to overcome this, because I know that it’s not a condition that goes away after student teaching. With the blessing of a secure job next year, the realities of the next school year weigh heavily as the stress of finding a job has eased.

The biggest tips I have learned from a Prezi presentation I found were both for my time at school and time at home. At school, it was encouraged to get there early and get a jump on things while there is less distraction. As much as I hate mornings, I definitely admit that it would be a good thing for me to do. My social butterfly tendencies and deep FOMO (fear of missing out) has me out in conversations with other teachers in hallways and classrooms just getting to know them better during my plan period, and I don’t often take advantage of my time as well as I should. One of the home tips was to prioritize and schedule your time better, which I admit I also struggle with. When I get home from a long day, I tend to “reward” myself with not wanting to do anything at home, which you should take time for in moments, but can’t do all the time. If I use my time more wisely at home and reward myself for actual accomplishments, I would feel less stressed out in the long run.

What I’ve realized this week is that I can’t let the things that slip through the cracks discourage me; I need to pick myself up make positive changes and then celebrate them! In addition to my little organizational wins, the more little moments that I revel in like connecting with students or reading a great response need to keep me going. I have also been learning to lean more heavily on the Lord’s strength rather than my own. Having a more positive and joyful attitude that isn’t dependent on my own strength or circumstances has helped me to make it through the stressful weeks leading up to Spring Break. I’m grateful for the gospel and a Savior that accepts me even when I mess up my lessons and forget my grading, and I’m also grateful for a week of sleeping in and coffee dates! Happy Spring Break and happy KPTPing!

Learning From Parents' Stores of Knowledge (Online Reflection #1)

Goodness, how glad I am to be full time student teaching at my school this semester! I’ve met so many more crazy, intelligent, and creative kids, and I feel more a part of the community of educators than ever. Of course, student teaching comes with tired feet and an even more tired brain, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the change of schedule. I’ve even made it to the gym a few times already!

My accomplishments in juggling many areas of life pale in comparison to some of my students and their parents, however. In an urban, largely working class area, parents often must go to work early or come home late with their students walking a mile or two each morning in all kinds of weather. Once they arrive, we fill their heads with information they’ve never heard before and their hands with papers they may not keep track of all the way home and send them on their way. So often, I and other teachers have a tendency to judge parents who don’t communicate often, don’t make it to conferences or other activities, or seem to not be as “interested” in education as our middle class, mostly white families “were.” Between reading some of Samway and McKeon’s thoughts and getting to know several of my English Language Learner’s stories and families, I realize just how wrong I was.

One concept that really struck me was the idea that we naturally assume we, teachers, are the sole distributors of knowledge and forget that parents have a unique opportunity to educate and influence their kids. So often, parents of my students have life experience in areas I have no idea about and will never be able to learn in the same meaningful way. Though they may not be able to write a paper on Chaucer, they provide equally valid points of view I should not take for granted, whether they are an ELL or not.

At my first experience of parent teacher conferences, I really got down to the heart of the matter. I met moms, dads, brothers, and sisters who all had different perspectives and yet were all there to see their student’s educational and social goals met. We spoke with a dad worried about his daughter and some girl drama through an interpreter, we met with a mom and grandmother who were in tears advocating for their struggling student, and a dad who was profoundly proud of his son’s progress, despite his mother’s battle with cancer. Each of these students had felt like underprepared, struggling isolated incidents until I took the time to learn and value where they were coming from and what their parents had to offer. This is one benefit to the idea of home visits, especially for parents who may be intimidated by a school setting.

As the Samway and McKeon reading encouraged home visits, so did an article by TESOL about tapping into funds of knowledge. Here they give some really helpful ideas on how to encourage students’ past experiences to our advantage, with various activities for students to showcase their cultures to their peers. Another good resource from AdLit.org backed up many of the strategies with research that students are most successful in English and their native language when they have strong skills in that native language. This can help in the ever-raging debate about acculturation versus preservation of a student’s language and culture.   AdLit advocated for encouraging students to keep up their native language at home and to be open to allowing other languages to be casually spoken in class. That is a tricky area, because it can make teachers very uncomfortable to have students speaking right in front of them and yet not know what they are saying, and the article really only told us to have some professional development on it, so I don’t really know the answers to that yet. I do think there is real value in figuring out the best strategies for handling it though, because I want to be culturally inclusive of ELLs and their reality while still maintaining order in the classroom.

This year, and this reading, has once again humbled me and taught me a great deal about not only my students, but myself and my inner biases. I look forward to researching more about ESOL programs and activities, as well as engaging parents who may be struggling to connect with schools on a more regular basis. What do you think about families’ stores of knowledge? What are some strategies or pros and cons to allowing students to speak in their native languages in your classroom?

Learning to Discuss Hot Button Topics—or Not (online reflection #3)

As a “preservice” (read: inexperienced) teacher, I often am unaware of the pitfalls of certain lesson plans, sometimes even as they are happening. Last week was one of those times when I had to debrief with my MT to fully realize how tricky a situation had become. The unit we are working in is all about “Conflict,” and as such we were doing a Civil Rights history-based week led by our first-year co-teacher. The students were analyzing pictures they had passed around on posters and writing what they thought was happening, if it was more conflict or resolution, and similar other breakdowns. The pictures ranged from Rosa Parks and the Freedom Riders all the way to the L.A. Riots of the early 2000s and Ferguson Missouri. At the end, each group was supposed to come up and present what their poster was actually about, and then the kids could discuss or ask questions about them.

In my head I thought it was a pretty good idea, giving them a chance to discuss in a safe classroom environment creates healthy kids who are awakened to ignorance they previously were unaware of. However, what happened was a stark division of the class, escalating to raised voices and extremes on both sides of violent protests being shared, and a bell ringing on a class scattered and confused, with very little teacher intervention to guide them through topics that often get adults confused or heated. Luckily for the most upset student, my MT walked him to his next class and got a chance to debrief and discuss his thoughts and questions with her, but I was still processing. Why did my MT seem so upset at the outcome of the class when it was only a heated discussion? College classes got fired up and people disagreed all the time, and that seems to be okay. After a good talk with my MT, however, I began to realize some of the pitfalls of our period and started thinking of ways it could have gone differently.

What I hadn’t understood at the time was that for these kids, a heated discussion isn’t coming from a well-thought out idea with a sturdy conviction fueling the passion behind it. It is coming from a scared early teenager who is just beginning to see the possibility of an opinion outside of their parents, and a lot of pride and hot air backing that paper-thin ideology up. When they had free reign to counter and shut down each other’s opinions, their defensiveness started flaring up and it went from a productive academic discussion to something that could’ve potentially been damaging to both their ideas and their friendships. So what would’ve worked better, or how did my teachers adjust from first to third hour?

Well the first thing would have been to realize going in that this could become a hot button conversation, so we could have been more prepared. An article put out by Vanderbilt University gives some excellent guidelines for having difficult classroom dialogues that accomplish good goals and keep the class from spiraling out of control. One of the things they mentioned is to have thought through whatever the topic is and what the problems may be ahead of time. In this case it was race and violent protests versus police brutality, but it could just as easily have been something along religious lines, immigration or other political policies, elections, civil liberties, or something you aren’t always expecting that a student has a sensitivity toward. Although you will never be able to predict every difficult topic that will come up in your class, you can be proactive about broaching these topics when you feel you and your class are at a place where you can handle them.

Another of the articles good ideas is for you and your students to establish clear ground rules before starting a discussion, so they know what kind of behavior and discourse is tolerated or expected. Again this takes some foresight, but allowing students to be in the process of coming up with rules such as no shouting over each other, or no attacking the speaker’s character directly can cut down on you having to moderate as much, because they have all agreed to uphold their own rules.

In addition, the article gives different strategies and specific practices you can employ if you would like a more structured discussion. All in all, I think you have to know your kids first and foremost. As we were discussing our talk in the next hour, we came to the conclusion that this age of students were not mature enough to be able to cope with the topic presented without extensive coaching, and many of their situations and demographics made it hard for them to be mature enough to handle it regardless of how skilled the teacher was. In some instances, it is okay to know your limits and not attempt anything you think would do more harm than good to your students, and I think that is hard for me to learn. I want to be able to tackle every kind of lesson, the most cutting edge and important on the social justice scale, filled with meaningful audiences and real-world applications, each and every time. But sometimes, knowing when to reach and when to pull back a bit is a sign of wisdom, and can teach your kids more than a lesson ever could. 

Learning the Importance of My Classroom Library, and My Heart Behind it

At the 2016 KATE Conference, I learned many things. I learned exciting new ways to incorporate both classic and graphic novels into my curriculum, how to boldly ask questions and maneuver my way through my first year teaching, and ways to tackle and become comfortable with ambiguity in the class. However, all of these nuts and bolts paled in comparison to the overarching themes I’ve learned over not only the two days of the conference, but in the last year getting to know some of my classmates and colleagues better.

What I learned from both gripping anecdotes and calculated data is that books save lives. Books can transform. But their power is increased exponentially when the characters in them are better representative of the students who are searching in them for hope and for meaning. In their own unique ways and from their various perspectives, the two keynote speakers and the panel Friday afternoon all were saying that representation matters, and having diverse and relatable books on my shelf can impact the health, safety, and happiness of my students. For a long time, I believed that because of my deep Christian faith, I would be hindered from speaking about tough subjects with the students because I would rather avoid telling them that I disagree or risk offending someone. What I have come to realize in many ways through the conference is that my comfort level is not the point of life, or the point of teaching. I need to accept and embrace being uncomfortable if it means a better environment for my students, and more compassionate and informed students for the world. Bill Konigsberg, author of many young adult books like Openly Straight, discussed the fact that regardless of your personal or religious views on LGBTQ issues you are able to stock books with those characters shown in a positive light. He doesn’t necessarily agree with wars, but he would still hold those books in his classroom because they can connect with and touch different people. Showing and validating that those identities are real and exist and can still lead healthy lives can really help when students are struggling through the throes of adolescence. It really impressed upon me the importance of having those kinds of titles in my classroom.

Similarly, I had always heard of the lack of diversity when it came to children’s and young adult books, but never really heard just how much it was or the damage it can do to children. When I heard from Stacy Whitman, publisher and editor at Tu Books, that there were more children’s books with main characters who were animals than children’s books with main characters of color I was astonished. Hearing from the panelists really connected the problems that exist with this—a lack of representation creates a lack of connection with literature and can make it harder to engage in the reading. I was so grateful to her to give us resources and titles to help us create a diverse and engaging classroom library for whoever our students are. I liked her analogy of windows and mirrors, we need to give books to our students that reflect who they are as people as well as showing them perspectives they’ve never seen in order to grow their empathy and knowledge.

All in all, I have learned the importance of my classroom library, and cannot wait to begin stockpiling books in the next year. In addition to all I learned, I had so much fun engaging with other English teachers from around the state and the future English teachers I have as classmates. The bonds I’ve made with these people have taught me so much that I know they are going to go out and be amazing teachers for not only Literature and Language, but life and love. 

Learning to Express Experiences in Creative Ways (genre reflection #1)

This is my Genre Reflection for my methods class at Wichita State. It takes an experience I've learned from my placement and tells it in a creative and interesting way. This reflection is in monologue form, or a short scene performed on stage by a single person.

Scene in a Class

Two boys sit across the room from each other. Mentor Teacher is speaking with a “Charlie Brown’s teacher” voice. The boys glance back and forth, clearly disengaged from the discussion, and making vague hand gestures to each other. Periodically, the boys glance to the larger student beside one of them and laugh, making gestures that may signify bullying of some kind and mouthing jokes to one another.

Lights on the class cut to black, single spot on Mrs. Watkins. She breaks the fourth wall and looks frustratingly into the audience.

WATKINS: And in that moment, I felt helpless. The class moved along without me, my mentor teacher explicating on the complexities of assimilating to American culture, and yet I couldn’t get past these two smug teenagers. You see, they sit right across from each other in the u-shaped formation that I saw a diagram of in Core 1. Discipline for the Secondary Classroom calls it “excellent for classroom discussion but an inefficient use of space,” which I was beginning to take issue with. My mentor teacher, highly experienced and innately confident, chose not to dignify them with a response, but I was worried they were starting to attract attention. Do I step in and say something? Let it be? My intervention came to me as an epiphany and at the time felt brilliant. I meandered my way into the center of the U, nodding along with the analysis and encouraging discussion, and just planted myself in the boys’ line of sight. I had magically dissipated the problem, and was thus a paragon educator. Or was I? Because now, the boys were shifting left and right, giggling at this new challenge to their little game. Students beside them were watching my fleeting attempt to assert control and were completely checked out of the lesson. As the bell rang, the class scurried away and my confidence felt like the big swinging boat ride at the amusement park: moving from extreme high to utter failure in a few sweeping seconds. But hey, that’s learning to teach, I guess. You try, you experiment, and you realize what works and what doesn’t. You show back up the next day and you try something new. These boys won’t become my nemesis, nor will they be my defeat. They’ll be back with more games, but I’ll be back too. And one day I’ll figure them out. 

Learning to Combat Learned Helplessness (online reflection #2)

Each of my students have their own little personalities and quirks: some love to read graphic novels and give large hugs, some run in yelling about Zootopia and extra terms for President Obama, and others are more reserved and quietly brilliant. However, there are always a couple of students who are more of a struggle to connect with and get excited to see every morning. One of my boys in particular, doesn’t do his work when asked, shows off for the class with his charm and smile, and then spends time asking what he’s supposed to do after not listening to instructions. It is so frustrating to try to help him when he doesn’t put forth much effort to help himself. He seems to be a candidate for the growing epidemic of learned helplessness, or the state of not knowing how to do work without a teacher constantly beside you. This is showing up with kids all over, and I believe a lot of it stems from teachers and parents being unwilling to give up control of their children enough to let them learn to express their own thoughts. If every time a student is struggling we swoop in to save the day, they slowly grow accustomed to just waiting until we swoop. So how can these habits manifest themselves, and what can we do to stop it?

In my research, a lot of learned helplessness didn’t match up with what I was seeing in my classroom. For my student, it seemed almost an act of defiance, a battle of wills to remain looking cool. In an article about the origins of learned helplessness, Jordan Catapano describes it as the students losing confidence in who they are as students, internalizing their failures and feeling like they are bad at all things school because they had a bad grade attributed to them. That, in turn, leads to a cycle where they stop trying. It said we as teachers needed to change the way we relate to students and their grades, setting individual goals and giving positive feedback for effort rather than just the letter grades.

Another article took a less touchy-feely approach, saying that the reasons for the students’ struggles are that teachers are just over-helping and not allowing the students to fall and make their own mistakes. This article recommends to let other resources besides you teach the class, from outside adults to community organizations. In addition, they emphasize the importance of asking questions that dig into why and how they think about their answers rather than just inquiring for the answer specifically. Over all, the freedom to make mistakes can teach students that they have the strength and capability to explore their own original thought away from the structures and aids from the teacher.

So what does this mean for my student? Does he have a deeper emotional issue and fear of failure? Has he just been taught that his work would get done for him by a teacher if he waited and smiled long enough? Or does he truly just not care about doing his work and is content to pass with a C-? I have not figured all of that out yet, but my mentor teacher and I are working to turn every stone and cover every base in order to find out, from trying various strategies in the classroom to conferencing with his mother. I will continue learning what I can about students who freeze up at the thought of independent work, and will refuse to let a student slip through the cracks, regardless of how frustrated they may make me. As my mentor teacher told me today, our job is to give each student the tools and techniques they need to succeed, no matter what it takes.