Why I cried driving home from school:

I have been meaning to write about this for the past two weeks, but have had a difficult time putting everything I'm thinking and feeling into words...While I'm still not sure I'll be able to find the right words, I figure I better at least give it a try.  This post is a little long, but please indulge me--I have a lot to say...

There are many MANY challenging students in every grade at my school.  As Mrs. Mentor Teacher says, "it's no picnic" in any of our rooms.  This year I have a wonderful class, but since August I have been writing about one student who is particularly challenging, my student who is both prone to emotional outbursts (like calling me racist with no context whatsoever), who occasionally storms out of the room/runs away, and also cannot read (at all).  He has been my biggest challenge since August, and taken up SO much of my time, working with him 1 on 1 in the classroom, at lunch, and after school, not to mention the lengthy RTI meetings...

Slightly less challenging, but also difficult at times was another student with whom I got off to a rough start, but later decided he could trust me, after which our relationship significantly improved.  I'm talking about the student who decided immediately that he didn't like me because he happened to be the only African American student at his table, who liked to lay pouting on the floor from time to time, and, oh yeah, who brought a bb gun to school.  We have had our fair share of moments as well...

All that being said, I grew to LOVE these two students over the past few months.  When I realized how much baggage they were carrying and how challenging they had the potential to be, I made it my absolute priority to earn their trust and build a strong relationship with them right off the bat.  As the principal with whom I student taught said, above all, teachers need to get their students to like them, because if a student likes you, he'll do ANYTHING for you.  I quickly realized how true that was.  And as I could see I was beginning to capture their hearts, they were absolutely capturing mine.

Coming back from winter break was like entering a completely different classroom.  You see, both of these boys moved over break.  In my building, students move constantly.  When you think about low-performing schools, not everyone realizes how difficult it is to separate income and ability.  Low-income schools by nature tend to have transient populations--families move suddenly as jobs appear and disappear, leases run out, families are forced to move in with other familiy members...the list goes on.  This means kids are pulled out of school and plopped somewhere new.  Often they miss weeks of school in between.  What does this mean?  They fall further and further behind, not to mention the added difficulty of starting an intervention program.

I'm used to kids moving.  But when I found out that slightly-less-difficult student was moving, it was like a punch in the stomach.  What?  You're kidding, I told Mr. Principal when he passed on the news.  After all our hard work building a relationship, after all the progress we'd made, he was MOVING???

Just as I began to make my peace with that, not three days later when most-challenging-student didn't show up for school on the last day before winter break, the second bomb dropped.  After a little detective work and a few calls to Mom, we found out that the family had already moved out of their house, and moved in with family in a neighboring suburb.  They are currently not enrolled in any school, and administration is still trying to get in touch with them to figure out whcih school they should be enrolling at.

I literally cried Friday (before break) when I left school, digesting this news.  This student has brought me to tears before, and not in the "I hate him so much I could quit" way.  More in the, "Your life is so sad and your heart is so good and there is so little I can do to help you" type of way.  I came to love this student this year, and grew infinitely as a professional because of him.  He is so needy, and has been through so much.  Dad's not around, mom has a questionable job that involves working nights, and he's been at school after school after school.  He had finally begun making a little growth, and we finally had an RTI program in place with plans to evaluate for an IEP after just a few more weeks of data were collected.  We had truly bonded.

And then he moved.  What's going to happen to him? I keep wondering.  Actually, I'm almost certain I know what's going to happen to him...and that's the scary part.  No matter how hard the teachers at his new school will work, he will likely move again, and again.  He will fall even further behind, and eventually become so frustrated that he can neither read nor add that he will drop out of school.  He will likely join a gang, and then...who knows.  It is literally tearing me to pieces.  I love this child.  I did everything I could for him while he was in my room, and it was nowhere near enough, and nowhere near what he needed.  And now he's gone, and I can't do anymore.

And while my classroom was more orderly and quiet today, while no one talked back or needed my constant undivided attention, it felt...empty.  The rational part of me says that this will mean I can spend so much more time with my other low learners who got lost in the shuffle before.  And that's true.  But...somehow that just doesn't make me feel better.

Trail of Tears (or, how I actually taught some social studies and attempted to make it meaningful)

Okay, I admit it.  I don't like social studies very much.  It's just not my thing.  Our text books suck, there's not enough time, it's not a tested area, blah blah blah.  I could go on forever.  My team has been teaching Native Americans in social studies, and I just can't see how learning all kinds of little things about different tribes is going to prepare them for the real world.  Especially since some of them can barely read.

Anyways, I finally made it a point to teach SOME social studies last week and this week (because I actually need to put a grade on the report cards!!), and decided that, since the curriculum is less than satisfactory, I'm going to teach about things that I think matter.  So, I decided to teach about the Trail of Tears.  I wish we could do a whole unit on it, but with the intense guidelines I have for teaching reading, there is just not enough time in the day.  A couple class periods would have to be enough.  Today, I sat my kids down on the rug and had them think about the area in which they live.  They, we talked about how it is different today from hundreds of years ago.  We discussed what the land was like, and of course, who lived here.

Then, I "remembered" a notice that "had been in my mailbox" at lunch.  I unrolled a scroll and read the students the District Relocation Act that stated that our district had the right to remove any class from its classroom to make space for "more important" students.  The kids were outraged--to my shock, many of them believed it!  We discussed fervently all the reasons why we should resist the proclamation, and some of the reasons why we should just do what it said.  After a few minutes of discussion, the time came when it was time for us to "relocate."  The kids were angry that they weren't allowed to bring their backpacks, books, or supplies.  We walked out to the sidewalk and sat down.  "This is our new classroom,"  I said.  Angry, frustrated cries filled the air.  The students couldn't believe that our principal would allow this.  Why were WE the class to be kicked out, and not the other fifth grades?  How could other students be more important than us?  What will we do if it rains tomorrow?  What will happen to all of our stuff????

When I brought the students back to the classroom, I told them it was all a simulation.  I still am shocked that they thought it was real!  5th graders constantly surprise me.  So often, I think they'll be too old for something, but really they're still just kids.  They love sitting on the carpet, listening to me read picture books, art projects, and the firecracker cheer.  They believe me when I say we are being removed from our classroom and will be having class outside. (I guess my proclamation looked official!)  But then again, I hear them discussing things that they are WAY too young for.  So you never can tell...

In any case, they definitely got it today.  When I read aloud "Samuel's Memory," a story of a child on the Trail of Tears, they sat in awe, and I could feel how distressed they were.  (Then of course, they say something like, "He got served!" at the end, and I have to give them a talk about respect for the seriousness of this...but you can't win 'em all!)  This activity reminded me the importance of social studies, but more importantly, the importance of relevent social studies.  My students aren't going to leave the classroom thinking about the shelter the Hopi tribe built.  But I know today they left thinking about the unfairness of the Trail of Tears.

In fact, as we were discussing Andrew Jackson and the Indian Removal Act, one of my students raised his hand.  (I apologize, but this quote is just paraphrased--trust me, though, this was the general idea) "Miss Teacher, I don't mean this in a bad way, but, well, was Andrew Jackson white?  Because, I mean, sometimes people think they're better than people of other races."  (This student, by the way, is Hispanic, like many of my students.  My school is very diverse, with many different ethnicities represented).  This was one of those moments when I WISHED I knew the exact right thing to say.  Lightbulbs were going off around an imaginary sign in my brain that read "TEACHABLE MOMENT!!!!"  But...this wasn't one of the questions I'd anticipated.  The best I could do was, "Yes, he was.  And you're right.  Our country has a terrible history of discriminating against people of other races" (we had, afterall, been talking about Civil Rights that morning).  I went on to remind him that it wasn't just one group of people discriminating against the Cherokee, it was the majority of the country.  And I'm not sure if I answered his question correctly.  They don't teach that kind of thing in ed studies.  But...well, it reminded me that this kind of question and this kind of historical event are the ones that really matter to my kids.  They live that question.

So I'm glad that I made time for social studies today.  I am interested to see where we go tomorrow...

(PS- during this same lesson, I had a student tell me that Native Americans are extinct.  Then, when I corrected him, actually tried to fight me on it.  This wasn't a conversation I ever anticipated having...
"-Oh, that's why Native Americans are extinct.
-Actually, there are many still living in the United States.  You're right, many did die, but we still have...(gets cut off)
-No, they're extinct!
-No, actually...
-Are too!"
You can't make this stuff up.)