Dear world,

In response to our never-ending difficulties w/ the edublogs site, we’ve decided to move. Posts will continue here:

supteach.blogspot.com

This works well since blogspot is our natural blogging habitat. Many contributors have pledged to update more frequently now that the switch is complete. We’ve appreciated your feedback, comments, subscriptions, and support; and we hope all those who fell in love w/ this site once before may do so again at our new home.

See you there!

Sincerely,

The ST? Crew.

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This year, when compared to the previous three, has been trying for the simple fact that I have never had a group this difficult, and I’m not even talking about academics or behavior (Well, these have been issues too but are less magnified). I mean their lack of basic study habits and their importance in terms of how much these things reflect the amount of concern they have for their grades, and more importantly, the repercussions toward their respective futures.

During lunchtime last Wednesday, a veteran teacher and I observed my students as they lined up in the cafeteria. He has subbed for me in the past, and it was his guess that my three toughest kids to deal with (who were easy to point out as they were being told multiple times by our staff to stop talking and fooling around in line) had less than ideal conditions at home, and that my most exemplary child (who was just as easy to point out) had both parents at home, and involved ones at that. Much too often this is the case, so I agreed.

He was right about the former opinion, but the latter one was answered the next day during after school tutoring. And it showed me that life can mess with your head sometimes.

For three days a week we hold after school tutoring so the kids can do their homework under my supervision and their peers’ guidance to ensure it’s not only complete, but correct. For the aforementioned challenge kids, tutoring presents an opportunity for them to get help in the classroom if they cannot get that support at home. In addition, they eat snacks that I bring, get the chance to use the computer or play educational board games, and hang out with their friends. The class environment after school is a lot louder and way more relaxed, but if this is what it will take to get kids to do their homework and start feeling more confident in their work, then so be it.

Last Thursday, tutoring time was extended because my most outstanding student was working on her first PowerPoint presentation, and much to my surprise, one of my usually challenging kids wanted to finish his essay before he went home. Couldn’t say no to that.

The first child has everything a teacher could ever ask from a student. Listens to every word you say. Unselfish with the help she gives her peers and humble about her achievements. Completes everything with nothing less than her best effort and is attentive to detail. And compared with the other 29 kids in my class, entered my room in September on grade level in everything. So it came to my shock when I asked her if she wanted to take home a copy of the PowerPoint software to work on with her mom and dad, and she said, “My parents are separated.”

Really? I thought to myself. No way. Not her! As I came to grips with the truth, I then began to wonder that despite the maturity and poise she has shown to all of us, how deeply has her father’s absence hurt her inside, and how deeply will it affect her in the future? It was definitely not what I expected to hear as I called it a day and the three of us exited the classroom.

At this point, time had flown so fast that I didn’t notice the sun had already come down. While the first child’s mother had arrived to pick her up, no one came for my other student. As anyone could imagine, a nine-year-old boy walking three city blocks alone in the dark in South Los Angeles is probably not the safest thing to do, so I walked him home. During this time, I learned more about him in those five to ten minutes than I did reading his cumulative file and talking to his previous teachers.

One thing I always knew is that he was an honest kid, and outside of the classroom setting that night, he began to open up. He admitted that he doesn’t have anyone to tell him what he should be doing at home since his mom works, his brothers are always out, and his dad isn’t there. He also told me that he wants to improve his English because he sees that people who speak both English and Spanish get good jobs. He also informed me that the street we were traveling on was very dangerous. When I asked him why, he told me that last year, a policeman told him to run inside before people started shooting in the streets and a man was shot dead in the head. When I asked him where this happened, he pointed to the ground and said, “Right where you’re standing. We should keep walking.” Very introspective child, but the most sobering part of it all was how commonplace it sounded coming out of his mouth.

I can only imagine what these kids go through on a daily basis, and when they grow up, how much they are willing to fight for their futures. Broken homes, organized crime, and street violence are as prevalent as the grass is green. These epidemics have evolved into something normal down here. Moreover, the range of emotions exhibited by the people of the community toward these problems vacillate between hope, despair, anger, normalcy, and indifference. And it makes me think of the kids who are currently in or have gone through my classroom. Which one of these five states of mind will fuel their approach to adolescent life in Watts? I’m finding out every day.

Let’s give a warm welcome to Mistermaestro and CMalixi!

Mistermaestro teaches at a middle school in Oakland, while CMalixi is working and student teaching towards a single subject social studies credential. Both would like to share their experiences with you.

If you’re new to SupTeach and would like to read up on backgrounds and other tidbits of all our writers, check out the contributors tab up top!

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Today my fourth graders and I went to a Dodger game at the MUCH HATED (by me) Dodger Stadium. One thing that warmed my soul, aside from the Dodgers losing 3-0 of course, was seeing my kids actually applying what they learned in my class. (a.k.a., Our lessons actually serve a purpose after all!)

Enrique corrected Sage on her grammar immediately after she told Jonathan, “I don’t have no more nachos.” Enrique looked at her and said, “ANY more nachos.” (He also threw in a finger point for authoritative purposes.) Later on, Sevastian calculated that with about 40 sections, and 1,200 fans in each section, that there were about 48,000 fans in the stadium. What a sav. Two seconds later, the scoreboard displaying the attendance for the day vindicated his reasoning. I don’t think anyone else noticed it, but an ear-to-ear smile stretched across his face–not smug, mind you, but confident–a confidence you wouldn’t expect from a kid who once repeated second grade.

If you’ve never taught before, you probably wish you had those twenty seconds of your life back after reading the aforementioned paragraph. But if you have taught or cuurently teach, you could probably feel me on that. And believe me, it felt better than good.

After the game, I took the kids to Watts Towers because they had never seen them “in person.” It was while I observed them marvel about the architecture that I was sadly coming to the realization that once I dropped them off at home, that this would be the last time they would really be “my” kids. I mean, they’ll still stop by and visit or I’ll see them run through the hall, but when that first bell rings in September, they’ll be someone else’s “kids” now. And that’s the dilemma. Now that they’re someone else’s kids, from now until the end of their academic lives, no matter what obstacles they’ll face in or out of the classroom, did I do my job to push them toward a state of success? Because to steal, uh, borrow from John Wooden, I define success as “peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.” Only time will tell if they’ll be able to internalize that feeling before it’s too late.

I remember once when a friend asked me why I didn’t quit after a rough week with my kids, I replied, “They may be little punks sometimes, but they’re still MY little punks.” I don’t know why I said that back then, but I understand what it means now.