Self-Assessments

I have so much to learn that any small accomplishes seem like the footsteps of a mouse in what is only a generally appropriate direction. Although my second day before a classroom as an official teacher smoothly passed, any amount of success was surpassed by a large amount of learning experiences. During my lessons, I felt in control and confident. I stated and upheld my expectations of respect for me, for each other, and for learning and I checked a few middle-school attitudes at the door. They raised their hands and answered my prompts correctly and I for moments I thought I was born for this.

Then I graded my assessments. What seemed smooth sailing was actually information that sailed smoothly over my students' heads. The grades on the daily assessments ranged from 100% to 45%. My class average was 75%, not nearly good enough to reach our overall goal of demonstrating a class average of 80% or above on the assessments for each standard. I had to ask myself, "What am I doing wrong? How can I make this better?" I am not reaching every student that needs to be reached. Every student can learn, so the gap can only rest in my teaching. Yet the beauty of falling short of your goals is the opportunity to pause and ask yourself what went wrong, because tomorrow is always there as a foundation for improvement. Thus my only goal for tomorrow is to view today as a lesson learned.

I learned something else about myself today. I learned that growing up in a school where every student came on the first day with school supplies still in the package was such a part of my school schema that the thought that my students wouldn't have paper never occurred to me. Each year, my mother took me to a store with rows of colored pens and decorated folders and allowed me to choose whichever sparkled pens and sharpened pencils I wished even though our house had millions of uncapped Bics. I certainly took this for granted. Abused it is more accurate. Today, as I lined students up outside of my door and informed them of the procedure for entering the classroom and removing their math materials from their backpacks, I wrongly assumed that they would have them. I should have taken notice when I instructed the students to open their notebooks and begin copying examples that nobody moved. Slowly a hand, and then two hands, and then three hands went into the air. "I need paper," one student said. I looked around and saw that the majority of students had empty tables in front of them.

"How many students need paper?" I asked. Most hands went into the air. "How many of you have something to write with?" Most hands went down.

This is something else I learned today, but tomorrow I will be prepared. Part of the mission of Teach for America is doing whatever it takes. The fact that the student population of my school does not have school supplies should not keep them from learning, and if doing whatever it takes includes passing out sheets of paper...I say that is a small price to pay.

flying high

My first day was more perfect than I could have even imagined. I carried a clipboard, I wore a lanyard, and not a student spoke when I was speaking. If they had though, I was ready with Reflection Corner. I realize that it is just the very beginning of my adventure and my growth as a teacher, but making it through the first day is a small feat which I am proud to have conquered. The knot in my stomach has finally gone and hopefully does not plan on making a fast return.

And today I learned about my students. Reading and math assessments revealed how much they cherish books. They couldn't wait to tell me how much they loved to read, how long they read each night, and what books were their favorite. Growing up in a house full of books, I am not sure I appreciated them on the same level. Some students tested well above the 7th grade level as 6th graders, and some students didn't come close. Some students got nearly every answer correct on the math pre-assessment, and some answered none. This is where the hard part comes in.

Yet now, with actual daily interactions with the scholars in my classroom, I can to you the small joys I will experience each day. And by small joys I mean hilarious things that students say. Today, we ended class with a name game in which the students were required to say their name and an adjective that describes them that starts with the same letter as their name. My teaching partner, Mr. Andrew Hasty, went first, stating, "My name is Mr. Hasty, and I'm Hasty." He passed on the torch to the first student, who responded, "My name is Dominic, and I'm Dominic." Needless to say, I am looking forward to tomorrow.

Here is a peek into my classroom:

My Think-Aloud hat:

Mr. Hasty and Ms. Hahn:

A glimpse of Bushwick:

Hopefully more successes to follow.

mindsets

They say when it rains it pours. I wonder if the decision to challenge yourself is some kind of signal to the universe to throw every available hardship at you, flying through space and at your head like some kind of meteor at the speed of light. Institute has brought out not only the stress of self-doubt a thousand times over, long hours, sleepless nights, hard efforts, and many tears, but life has thrown its own obstacles into the mix. Corps members are leaving the program around every corner, family members are sick or dying, people are lonely, and relationships are ending. It is the eve of my first day as a teacher, and I am alone but for my hopes for tomorrow. I will meet my students, and the focus on their achievement seems all I have left. As a corps, we are tired, we are nervous, we are hoping that no student is big enough to kick our ass. We have little, but we have determination. Here are the mindsets that will share my bed with me tonight and wake with me tomorrow:

Education transforms lives.

Vision precedes action.

Effective teachers are made, not born.

All students can behave.

The achievement gap is a literacy gap.

I am in the driver's seat of my own development.

The expectations I set for my students will determine the extent of their academic achievement.

If you don't have a plan for your students, they will have a plan for you.

Don't give up. Ever.

dreams

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

by Langston Hughes

No excuses

Monday morning at 8 am I become a teacher. I have spent a sleepless week preparing, a week of training for 14 hours a day, but I am still alive (for those of you who were wondering). In my head I envision the most perfect classroom, flawless classroom management, with an unparalleled bond between teacher and students. I know it will not be this way, but I will hang onto this vision with the highest of expectations for myself, for who am I to preach high self-standards without practice? In accordance with the Teach for America mantra, I would like to consider my goal both ambitious and feasible, yet though it is aligned with the first quality, I realize it is not feasible. I will not be perfect, but I will expect the best of myself in order to attain the best that I can do. As Teach for America has nailed into my skull, great teachers are made and not born. I have become the voice of TFA, using phrases like 'relentless pursuit' in conversation when discussing my mission to set up my single roommates with the available male corps members. I am envisioning my first day, wearing heels that click for intimidation factor, because I teach for America now. And as they say in TFA, my focus is now solely on two things: student achievement and students achievement. And this is why:

"So strong is the link between literacy and being a useful member of society that some states use grade-level reading statistics as a factor in projecting future prison construction."

-Bob Chase, President, National Education Association

The neighborhood in which I will be teaching this summer and in the fall is called Bushwick in Brooklyn, New York, the 7th most impoverished neighborhood in NYC. Residents spend over 50% of their income on rent, a per capita income that already falls well below the poverty line, hovering around 11,000 dollars per year. The area is largely populated with immigrants from Latin America and local industry involves illegal but continued sweat shop conditions. There are high rates of childhood obesity and lead poisoning. 2/3 of the students at the school are performing below grade level proficiency on state exams. The challenges these students face are immense, and the teacher's locus of control is very small outside of the classroom. Inside of the classroom, however, the teacher's focus upon achievement and high expectations is the key to success. Sadly, most teachers do not choose to focus upon student achievement and student achievement and these children are held to such low expectations that they never are able to achieve or break the boundaries that bind them. Teach for America aims to redefine what is possible for these students.

This is the reason I am here, a statement which I remind myself now at least once a minute. In this moment, however, I am so tired that I don't even have the energy to do just that.

A goal is a goal is a goal

At least in New York City it is light out at 5:30 am. There was the sun, hanging in the sky, ready to mock me. My days for the next five weeks are long but hard for certain. We arise at dawn, depart for our school sites at 6:30 am, and spend from 7 am to 4:15 pm in an air-condition-less classroom, battling the heat and humidity, and trying to stay awake so as not to miss one important fact that may shape our strengths as a teacher. I did sweat, but also I did learn. I learned that the Achievement Gap is real. I learned that "the need is great and time is short." But not only did I hear it, I felt it. Today, I lived it. I sat in a classroom in a tired school building in the middle of a low-income urban community and tried to focus on my task despite the overwhelming heat with no solution. Because of the absence of air-conditioning, we left all windows wide open, inviting the sounds of the city to pour into our classroom. In addition to the blaring sounds of sirens and honking and yelling, the constant slamming, groaning, cracking, and noises of a bulldozer tearing up the abandoned building across the street persisted throughout the day. At times it was so loud that our instructor would stop speaking and wait till the bulldozer took leave. Would I have learned as I did if I had faced these challenges and these distractions every single day as an eight year old? I highly doubt it. It was hot, it was loud, it was disrupting, and those unique urban challenges are merely the tip of the iceberg in regards to the numerous struggles that my students will face every single day.

I spent the majority of my schooling days in a peacefully cool classroom. It was quiet and it was clean.

I find myself at times becoming more competitive than I have felt in the past. My fellow corps members are intimidating, some having already received graduate degrees, completed their undergraduate degree at Harvard or Yale, worked in the House of Representatives, or built a bridge in Costa Rica. When I hear these impressive resume statistics, I immediately feel myself wanting to show them that I, too, can be great in the classroom. Perhaps even better than them! Harvard or not! But I realized today that the fact that they may be great does not mean that I will be inherently be less great, as our mindset must entirely be focused on student achievement. Thus, in order to have the greatest positive impact on students across the city, we all must be great and continually challenge each other to improve our effectiveness. We must work as a city-wide team, and in the lovely words of Teach for America, "redefine was is possible" for our students and their future. I do not want to be better than any other corps member because I want us all to be the best teachers possible for the sake of our students. Our teaching performance is not graded on a bell curve.

Before you leave me tonight, make time for a little inspiration. Whenever I question my purpose here, Dalton Sherman is here to bring me back:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAMLOnSNwzA

And now, I must plan. The last lesson I took home with me today was that in teaching, though perhaps not always in life, you can never plan too much. A fail to plan is undoubtedly a plan to fail. Though I hope to live my life a little bit more malleably.

It's beginning to look a lot like institute!

Institute has officially arrived. There are now over 500 TFA corps members living at St. John's University from the Tulsa, Newark, Connecticut, and New York regions soon to embark on their last full night's sleep before institute begins. The countless stories I have heard tell of the terror, the sleepless nights, the crying, and the breaking of each TFA corps member's hopeful souls. Sadly I have heard none told of significant gains made or wonderful times had, but I know that is not because they did not occur. I prefer to assume that the only people telling stories are the pessimists, and I have thus decided to ignore every story I have heard thus far and experience the next five weeks with only my own set of expectations. I expect to find out what I am made of in the classroom, and what it takes to be great. I expect to be tired but purposeful. I expect to be drained but for good reason. I expect to be scared but rewarded. I expect to have a gallon sized glass of red wine on my last night.

The evening began with olympic -like Opening Ceremonies honoring the start of Institute. Though I truly hoped for ribbon dancers, I was forced to settle for a speech from Wendy Kopp, the founder of Teach for America, who first illustrated her vision in her undergraduate thesis and was only my age when she made it a reality. And I thought I was cool. She reminded us that we are not alone, there are 4100 first year corps members in 35 regions across the country. In New York alone, there are now 850 corps members, and when joined with an alumni group of over 7,000, New York City Teach for America corps members have affected the lives of over 50,000 students. Today I joined a powerful movement to close the achievement gap, and like Teach for America trains us to practice in our classrooms, there will be no excuses.

I learned today that beginning next monday, I will be teaching 6th grade math for four weeks to students in need of remediation. If I fail at this task before me, many of these students will not move on to the 7th grade. And nobody wants that on their shoulders. Whereas in my college courses, I may have read my assigned readings either because it was required of me to pass a test or write a paper, there are no tests or papers in Teach for America. There is only being a great teacher. A book well over a thousand pages was slapped into my hands today, and I intend to read every word, not because it is required to pass but because it is required for me to stand up to this role that I have chosen. It is required to be a leader in the classroom and to make significant gains in 6th grade math. And it is, admittedly, a little bit required to pass. Though I signed a contract, I seem to remember a clause that said something like "We can still fire you."

A comforting thing about the Teach for America application process is that I am surrounded by people very similar to me (fabulous people, which goes without saying.) But people that are similar, as it follows, have similar anxieties, and in the case of Teach for America Institute, similar freak outs. Each time I voice a concern, that I am questioning my abilities, that I want to succeed, or that I am lonely, there is someone here who shares my finally spoken fears. I spent the entire evening with goosebumps of inspiration and team spirit. Tonight, an alumni stated before a nervous crowd something that she felt helped her survive. It is a statement which I remind myself of a hundred times a day, each time that I question my future, but mostly when I miss my darling boyfriend:

"Remember why you came here in the first place. Keep your eyes on the prize."

I figure if this young alumni, now a founding principal of a charter school in Brooklyn, could have once shared my anxieties, my nerves, my goals, and my powerful desire for success in the classroom, and still survived with the help of that simple reminder, then I will tattoo it on my forehead.

And now, on the eve of what feels like going off to war, I will go to Sleep for America. But I will end with the last statement I scribbled on my program tonight:

"Each day I strive to be the memory of a lifetime. They are why I Teach for America."