Week Nine

The Good:
This week was incredibly stressful. I feel like I was pulled thinner than usual -- except this week, I didn't seem to have the energy to enjoy the "stretch" as much... But, I made it through. After spending some time reflecting on the week, I realized it was pretty good. I learned a lot about my kids, my capacity, and my school.

Highlight #1 =
One of my students, Ariel, came to my room to share something very special with me. Before I tell the story, I would like to provide a little context about our relationship. I first met her last year when I was a student teacher in Ms. Barrett's 9th grade English class. Our first "real" interaction was quite negative. I was grading some tests, and I noticed that Ariel's answers were exactly the same as the young woman's who sat next to her. Their answers were too similar to be a coincidence, so Ms. Barrett and I approached both girls about cheating. We decided to give both of them zeros on the test and to call their parents. Our discussion ended up causing quite a commotion because Ariel's friend had a very emotional response. We ended up having to discuss the matter with the two girls AND the principal. For the next month, Ariel and her friend barely made eye contact with me. But, eventually, Ariel came around, and we ended up cultivating a friendly relationship.

Over the summer (particularly in August), I ended up talking to Ariel quite a bit because she was an active member of RAW, the young women's empowerment group that I was going to be taking over. Our conversations led to her volunteering to be one of my two youth coaches for that program. Working closely with her these last two month has been a pleasure because she brings so much energy and passion to our discussions about the group.

Now for the story -- After school on Thursday, Ariel came into my class to say hello. Out of nowhere she said, "Ms. Oliver, I just wanted to let you know that I wrote about you in my FACES application, just in case anyone tells you." (FACES is a 2.5 year internship that many 10th graders are currently applying for.) Then, unprompted, she proceeded to take out her application in order to read exactly what she wrote. In response to a question about support systems, Ariel responded, "Ms. Oliver is my mentor, and I really look up to her. I know she would help me if I needed it." I instantly started crying, of course, and gave her a huge hug. I told her, "I'm so glad we have RAW together." She smiled and left. Everything bad that had happened that week instantly melted away, and I remembered the JOY of being a teacher.

Highlight #2 =
One of my oldest friends, Amber*, came to speak to my students about photojournalism on Monday. Amber is one of the talented and passionate women I know. She always inspired me in high school. And, even more importantly, Amber and I have always had the unique ability to see into each other's hearts. In high school, I was always amazed by how she just got me. In fact, she wrote a poem for me during the darkest period in my life and somehow managed to capture the essence of me -- a pretty amazing feat for a 17 year old!

Besides all of this mushy-gushy stuff, Amber is an incredible talented photographer. I have marveled at her photos for more than six years. So, when I had the opportunity to bring her into my Digital Journalism class as a "photojournalism expert," I did.

She was fabulous, and my students LOVED her. Amber crafted a thoughtful lesson, gave my students informative handouts, crawled up on our table in order to teach an important concept about being BOLD, showed her work, and highlighted the work of other photojournalists from the 20th and 21st centuries. Most importantly, Amber INSPIRED my students. I can say this confidently because the Thursday after her talk, I took my students on a "photo walk" around Oakland. My students climbed up on fences and laid on the ground in order to get "cool angles." I heard them discussing "the rule of thirds," a concept that Amber taught. They were fearless in their pursuit of "the right shot." And, they danced when they got it. It was beautiful. I am so grateful for Amber's presence in my class because she gave my students a glimpse at what they could be!

For more information about Amber's visit in my class, please visit her blog:
http://amberthegirlone.blogspot.com/2011/10/kinda-big-deal.html

*While I use pseudonyms to protect the anonymity of my students and colleagues, I chose to use Amber Slankard's real name to honor her work. 

The Bad:
Apathy. Apathy. Apathy.

On Tuesday, I had to call my students out about their apathy. They were off task and distracted on one of the most authentic assignments they will ever do -- writing a personal statement.

While I was explaining the personal statement prompts, there was a lot of chatter. Too much. I was annoyed because the instructions that I was giving were very relevant to the students -- In fact, the information about personal statements was directly correlated to their future success!

I was moved to say, "The apathy that I'm witnessing right now worries me." When I heard a couple of people chuckling, I clarified the definition of apathy and then said, "Being called apathetic is not a compliment and it is certainly not funny. You should strongly dislike when people, especially adults, call you apathetic. You should want to prove them wrong."

The class quieted down dramatically after that. But, I still had 1/3 of the senior class come to class unprepared on Thursday and Friday, meaning they did not have a complete rough draft of their personal statement. Therefore, a 1/3 of the senior class could not participate in the writing group activities I had planned for those days.... FRUSTRATING!


The Ugly:
Hearing the following conversation was probably the lowest point of my entire year thus far. For the young women's protection, I am not going to reveal her grade or even use a pseudonym.

I heard a young woman jokingly say, "My mom told me that she wished I had died, instead of my brother." She started laughing afterward. Her friend said, "[Her name], that's really not funny." The young women replied, "I know. It made me cry when I was 13. But what can I do now?"

I was filled with the deepest sadness after hearing that conversation. I chose not to interject myself into their conversation because I felt that it wasn't my place.... I still don't know if that was the right choice. However, my heart overflowed with empathy for this young woman.

Many teachers, especially female teachers (including myself), have struggled with this girl. No wonder... The one women whom this young woman should be able to trust without condition violated that trust and probably broke her heart with that disgusting comment. She made her daughter feel worthless while she was grieving the death of her brother. Could it get any worse?

After hearing that conversation, the defiant aspects of the girl's personality made so much more sense to me. Why would she take a risk in trusting another female role model? Why risk feeling the way that she did when her mother violated her trust with another female adult? Why open your heart to someone who might hurt you? I get it. I really get it.

My perceptions about this girl have changed. I am more forgiving; I am gentler; I have even higher expectations for her because I want her to have a shot at something better.

People (including myself) often forget that we are all humans -- we all have stories -- we all have experienced pain and joy -- we all hate and love different parts of ourselves -- we have all been hurt. I have the opportunity to witness my students' pain in the most real way as a writing teacher. My students pour their pain out onto their papers, and that pain is a lot for me to carry. But, I think it makes me even more human. I think it makes me fall in love more often. I think it makes me stay more attached to reality. Most of all, I think it makes me more empathetic.

Teachers don't stop working when the school day is over. We carry our students in our hearts every minute of every day. While we get to experience the deepest joy when our students succeed, we also have the greatest burden of all -- their pain and sadness and disillusionment. I don't think any of us consciously signed up to carry that weight, but we do. And, there is not money enough in the world to compensate us for that task. We do our job diligently, selflessly, and thanklessly.

But, you know what, I wouldn't trade it for any job in the entire world.