This school year started on a more optimistic note despite the layoffs and merger. I'd have only 11th graders, I'd be teaching American Lit--which I've taught before--and I'd have AP Lit. On top of that, there'd be no pigeons in my room pooping down the wall, and I'd have my own classroom where I could actually decorate. Even more, some of the kids I'd stayed for would be my students again. In some ways, I started the school year from a position of power because I decided to stay, and I essentially created my own reason: my AP kids and my AP class.
In spite of all of this, I'm back at square one again. My American Lit classes, while no longer 37 students each, present the same problem as last term. The students are beyond lacking in skills and totally unmotivated. Ironically, this problem is invading my AP class. What started as a group of 32 has whittled down to 11. In theory, these 11 are the most motivated, talented and capable students, but on a given day, only three or four show they are ready to accept the challenge of this course. With the AP exam less than two months away, that just doesn't work.
While unmotivated students are just part of the high school teacher's landscape, this problem is more complex. The apathy is so pervasive. It's not just the three knuckleheads in the corner--it's 75-80% of my students. Let me put it this way. My American Lit kids are working on an essay about Death of a Salesman. I chunk every part of the essay for them, and each day comes with a mini-lesson, a handout, a teacher exemplar and a conference. I wish a teacher in high school had done all I do for them when it comes to writing. We started this process a week ago this past Friday; their essay is due this Monday. That means they had over a week to work on this, and an entire week of class to work on their essay. This past Friday, most of them were still working on their intro. Really?
Each day I find myself questioning my own actions. Do I really want to stay up until 11pm working on this lesson when I already know what results it will yield? Is this really worth cutting into my time at home with my family? Should I really take 15 minutes to grade this essay and provide meaningful feedback when I know this kid spent thirty minutes writing this?
These thoughts are on the surface, but bubbling underneath are the larger issues that remain with me--the layoffs, the merger, my car and a more recent situation. I've debated whether or not I should write about this, but I've come to the conclusion other teachers have faced this, and I want them to know they are not alone.
A few weeks ago, a student and I were at a standstill over her cell phone. This should not be as I have very clear guidelines about the use of electronics in my class, and I had this student last year. She and I had a fine rapport. In fact, we had a great rapport. Something changed this year, and there was constant attitude and defiance over this phone for a period of about two weeks, so I conferenced with the parent. My expectations and consequences were very clear, but the following day in class her behavior was the same. On this day, I told her she was not leaving class without handing over the phone. She replied with several rude comments, and when I could not reach my admin, I released all students but her. As this was the last class of the day, I planned on keeping her a few minutes until one of my admin could come and take the phone. However, that's not what happened.
What started as an attempt to confiscate a phone turned into something very ugly. This student tried to move past me and go for the door, and I was just so sick of all of it. I was so tired of doing battle with her attitude and defiance. I was so over the phone. This student was not above the rules, and I wasn't going to let her move past me, walk out the door with her phone and assume she was above the rules. I grabbed for her phone which was in her shirt pocket, and she immediately jumped back and screamed, accusing me of touching her. She then proceed to get out her phone and call her mother, telling her mother I touched her. I was stunned and asked her if she was out of her mind. I can't remember the last time I was this angry. I was shaking, my face and ears were hot, and I could feel tears rising to the surface. I called for my admin again, and thankfully one of them responded. He came to my room immediately and took over for me. He confiscated her phone, escorted her out of my room, and I fell into my chair at my desk.
This is every teacher's worst nightmare, and I somehow thought this could never happen to me. How naive. I ran through the sequence of events again, and of course I realized at that moment what I did wrong. I should have never grabbed for her phone, and I should have never left myself alone with a student. While those were my errors, why on earth would she accuse me of something so heinous? Cuss me out, tell me you hate me--but this? My mind went to the worse case scenario, which is not difficult to imagine with all the recent scandals in the media. I sat at my desk shocked, and that shock moved quickly to devastation. I started sobbing. Then, my principal called me. I hadn't left a voicemail and she wanted to know if everything was okay. I told her no, then sobbed through the whole story. Luckily my admin supported me. The student was suspended and permanently removed from my class. She apparently has a track record for lying, and I guess the jig is up because she has yet to return to school.
Driving home that evening I was so quiet. Normally my mind is racing, thinking about this or that, but that evening I was still. No radio. No phone. Just me and my feelings, and boy did I feel. Did this student know all the ramifications that come with an accusation like that? No, but did she know enough? Yes. This felt like that day with my car. Both were so personal, but the difference with this situation is that the damage was on the inside, and I certainly wasn't going to wait around for eight months for this to be made right.
That day something snapped inside me. While I was--and still am--devastated that a student I've worked with for two school years would turn on my like this, I'm just so done. I'm tired of being a pawn in someone else's game. I refuse to be manipulated anymore by budgets, by admin, by students, by parents. Though all work environments have their politics, the emotional demands of this profession and my current work environment have shaded the way I see the world, and not for the better. I'm guarded, I'm quiet, I'm bitter, I'm untrusting, I'm pessimistic, I'm emotionally numb. This is not who I am at the core, and to save myself, I need to get out, but the question is, where do I go from here? If I'm not in the classroom, where am I?
