Christmas break starts today!

I thought my arch nemesis was Isaac. I was wrong. Christmas break has left a certain other student named Lakin furious at the world (for some reason), and he’s taking it out on me and his fellow classmates. I’m keeping a cumulative discipline form on him (holla, Sybil Mason!), and he has interrupted my class fourteen times in the last 100 minutes of class time. Fourteen times.

The most recent incident involves him and a hispanic student named Enoc (you see, Lakin is Caucasian, and this is the source of much fighting between him and the other students). It started when they both complained that they couldn’t see the warm-up problems on the projector, and they asked to move to the front row. Currently occupying the front row are: my ADD student, my student who is blind in one eye, my student who is in a gang and needs constant supervision, and another student who I keep close to my desk to keep me from going insane.

Needless to say, there was little room for either of them in the front row. I printed another (my 7th, 6 other copies were already taken by the usually “blind” suspects) copy, and asked them to share it–little did I know what this would cause. First, Lakin throws the paper because he says Enoc won’t share. I instruct them to push their desks together and let the paper sit on the crack–half on each desk, so they can share the whole time (man was I wrong). Here’s the dialogue that ensued:

Lakin: “SHUT UP”

Enoc: “I didn’t do anything!”

Lakin: “I’m already as smart as you’ll ever be!”

Enoc: “You’re already as white as I’ll ever be.”

Lakin: “Shut UP, you Mexican!”

Documenting all of this prevented me from teaching much of anything during the first 20 minutes of class. God, it’s going to be a torturous week.

Please. encourage me to go on.

During the brief walk, Lakin had run out of line and pushed Ashlee. She screamed and ran in front of him and tried to trip him. Manuel moaned “ooh, playa!” at his friends in the classrooms we passed. Justin V. skipped–completely out of the single file “line.” It was sheer chaos.

We stood in the hallway until they could form a straight line silently. It took 7 minutes. They whined about wanting to sit down. I ignored them, asking each student individually why they chose to ignore my instructions.

Once in the classroom, I gave an assignment based on our lesson. They had 30 minutes to convert 8 fractions to decimals. That’s 3.5 minutes per problem, for the non-math buffs out there. These problems were simple division. 1/4 = 0.25. 1/2 = 0.5. The harder fractions included 3/8 and 8/25 (admittedly, challenging). Still, it was fairly simple.

Only 3 students finished. The rest chose to talk, talk, talk and not work. After grading the assignments, several students received 0s. I gave one 13, and several 38s. The students aren’t invested in their success like my first two classes, and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m doing everything I can, but they honestly seem like a different breed of student.

I really want to drive to the airport with Sylvanus on Friday and get on his flight to Atlanta. I could even see Kings of Leon with Lacey…

After work, I went straight to night class. I got home at 9 PM. Now I have to go to sleep and wake up at 5:30. A teacher’s work is never done.

I really want to get on a plane and go anywhere but here. Houston is making me depressed. I now see why people don’t come back. I’m handling the work really well, but this city is just so oppressive. It’s not pretty, it’s not glamorous, and on top of that, I’m not making any money after they deduct from my paycheck.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to teach my students how to convert fractions into decimals when Ashlee is crying (she knocked some books over, everyone laughed, and now she’s hysterical), Isaac is giving himself arm tattoos, and Manuel is screaming that he’s going to die because his ear is bleeding. How do you calm this situation?

They’re at lunch right now, and I know that’s only going to make them more hyper. When Lakin raised his hand, politely and surprisingly, I called on him, asking, “is this a math question?” He responded, “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious–IF YOU SAY IT FAST ENOUGH–” at this point I tried cutting him off and he just mouthed the words at me while still being “silent.”

Thank Zeus our class tonight is on classroom management. 3rd period is pushing my buttons. They’re not invested in the games we play, they’re not into “competing” with my other 2 classes, and they don’t seem to care that they’re all failing. It’s such a bad day.

Isaac, one of my brightest students, is one of my least well-behaved students.  He was suspended last week for fighting another student, and he requires a lot of attention in the classroom. This isn’t to say the he’s trouble, but I think that he makes bad decisions sometimes.

Today during the test he kept raising his hand to ask me to time him and see if he could finish in 5 minutes. During the multiplication quiz, he kept asking if he finished in under 25 seconds. He always has a question, and he is always talking. If it’s not to me, then he’s talking to someone else.

Just now, at the end of class, I yelled several times about the level of noise in the room. As I dismissed my groups one by one, I asked 3 students to stay behind so I could discuss their grades. I noticed Isaac hanging around. I asked him, “What’s up Isaac?” He muttered nothing and sort of walked off.

I start to show Jhanee her grades and explain to her, and then Isaac comes back in and drops something on my desk.

“For later,” he says.

After my 3 students left, I opened the note that said “mr. reid” in all lowercase letters. It was folded intricately, and I opened it, not sure what to find.

Inside was a written address and the words, “Isaac’s Birthday Party!”

It was a hand-written invitation. He had invited me to go bowling with him and his family this Saturday. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more touched. I’m still teary-eyed.

It’s weird how the worst days can suddenly turn into the best days.

[I had another entry that I'd written and wanted to post, so check back for that later.]

Finally, they will admit that you must be cool if you’re wearing skinny jeans, because, they’ve “never seen no adults that could wear skinny jeans–especially teachers cause they’re usually pretty big.”

I love my job.

I made three students cry yesterday. I gave the entire class 4 verbal warnings about the noise, talking, giggling, etc. They continued to talk, and I was already in a foul mood (read: scaling a 12-foot fence at 5 AM to search for my car). My bad mood combined with their disrespect led to my assigning 3 detentions and having three subsequent breakdowns. Two of my criers were good-two-shoes boys who probably have never had detention before.

That’ll show them.

I had my first round of observations today. My Program Director brought another TFAer in and they observed my class. The walked into my special education-inclusion class. That means I have 9 special education students that I teach alongside 9 regular ed students. It’s a daunting task, but it’s probably my favorite class. They’re mostly well-behaved, and I feel like they have the most potential out of all my classes. One student is SO brilliant, but he has no idea because he’s “special education.” If only he knew that it’s only his behavioral outbursts that got him there… I think I can get through to him. I really like working with him, so I’m hopeful that I’ll see some changes in his demeanor.

I’ve never been so busy in my life. I woke at 5 AM yesterday, worked until 4:00. Took the long commute to the north side of town for my pretend “school” courses (gag me), and then after sitting through boring lectures for 2-2.5 hours, I got home at 8:30 and worked until I passed out around 11. That has to officially be the longest work day ever.

… and we’re getting paid so little. Sigh.

Earlier in the week, this same student wrote on his survey that if he could live in any city in the US, he would live in Hollywood. Since most of my responses were answers like Houston, Dallas, or Mexico (which is apparently a city within America now), I asked him to share out his reasoning. His response, “I want to live in Hollywood so I can call it HOLLA-wood.” Again, I chuckled to myself and tried to keep it together.

Today, I’m grading their diagnostic assessments after having lunch with my roommates. The results don’t look promising so far, but I’m trying to keep thinking positively.

The students are precious darlings.

I can’t say enough how much I’ve enjoyed my first three days. There are times when they push my patience, but then you hear an eleven year old say things like, “I think I need to work in tandem until I pick up the ins and outs of this exercise” or “I want to live in HOLLA-wood when I grow up.” Then you realize that it’s all entertaining.

With entertainment comes challenges, but I think we’re ready to become mathletes. I think my 82 students can and will change for the better after this year. Whether I’m raising my special ed students from the 1st and 2nd grade math/reading levels or enriching my students who are coming in with high school math skills, I want to know that I am responsible for a positive influence on each and every one of the 82 lives that I’m about to encounter.

For me, teaching is like prayer; it’s all I’ve got.