Excerpted from a GT English 9 student's journal that prompted her to write about where she wants to be in ten years:
I see my self as a graduate from the Naule accadome as a nurse, or a graduate from Harverd as a Lawyer.
5.30.2008
5.29.2008
Queen for the Day
Students received their yearbooks today. I expected to sign a few seniors' yearbooks at the senior picnic this afternoon—I signed perhaps three or four last year—but I was unprepared for the number of students who demanded my autograph. Four sought me out in my classroom en route to the courtyard where the picnic was being held; once I arrived at the picnic, I was literally surrounded by students who wanted me to sign their yearbooks. For an hour and a half, I chatted with students (past and present) and wrote endearing passages in winding patterns in their yearbooks.
Excited by my popularity, I told my husband about it when I returned home. He said, "you probably wrote something different for every one of them." He was right: I did. The notes I wrote to students contained inside jokes, an assessment of the student's strengths, and a specific wish about their future endeavors—all written in an informal tone. I have known these students at least since August (many longer than that), and thus I wrote with an air of familiarity.
I'm embarrassed to admit how much I loved being popular in a group of eighteen year-olds. I always say that if I wanted to be popular, I wouldn't have become a high school English teacher.
Really, it's not the concept of popularity that is important to me, but that I made an impression in these students' lives. This is the time of year when my toil seems to have come to fruition: yes, I have been hard on them all year, but nonetheless they love me for it. The trick is remembering this sentiment come August.
Excited by my popularity, I told my husband about it when I returned home. He said, "you probably wrote something different for every one of them." He was right: I did. The notes I wrote to students contained inside jokes, an assessment of the student's strengths, and a specific wish about their future endeavors—all written in an informal tone. I have known these students at least since August (many longer than that), and thus I wrote with an air of familiarity.
I'm embarrassed to admit how much I loved being popular in a group of eighteen year-olds. I always say that if I wanted to be popular, I wouldn't have become a high school English teacher.
Really, it's not the concept of popularity that is important to me, but that I made an impression in these students' lives. This is the time of year when my toil seems to have come to fruition: yes, I have been hard on them all year, but nonetheless they love me for it. The trick is remembering this sentiment come August.
An Unexpected Allusion
On my commute home this afternoon, the song "How Could You Want Him (When You Know You Could Have Me)?" came on my iPod. I have heard this song many, many times, but somehow until today have failed to notice the following lines:
I'm quite contented to take my chances
Against the Guildensterns and Rosenkrantzes
It's a matter of Cain and Abel
And I can feel your knee beneath the table
I was impressed that an alternative rock group would make an allusion to Hamlet...and that I had never noticed it before. (Indeed, the fact that I had just read Hamlet probably has something to do with it.) In addition to the blatant reference to two characters from the play (Guildenstern and Rosencrantz), Hamlet himself makes reference to the Biblical tale of Cain and Abel (just as Claudius, Hamlet's uncle, slew Hamlet's father to take possession of the throne and queen). I also like that "I can feel your knee beneath the table" has a whisper of the sexual repression simmering between Hamlet and Ophelia. Kudos, Spin Doctors. Kudos.
I'm quite contented to take my chances
Against the Guildensterns and Rosenkrantzes
It's a matter of Cain and Abel
And I can feel your knee beneath the table
I was impressed that an alternative rock group would make an allusion to Hamlet...and that I had never noticed it before. (Indeed, the fact that I had just read Hamlet probably has something to do with it.) In addition to the blatant reference to two characters from the play (Guildenstern and Rosencrantz), Hamlet himself makes reference to the Biblical tale of Cain and Abel (just as Claudius, Hamlet's uncle, slew Hamlet's father to take possession of the throne and queen). I also like that "I can feel your knee beneath the table" has a whisper of the sexual repression simmering between Hamlet and Ophelia. Kudos, Spin Doctors. Kudos.
Dénouement: The Final Chapter to 'The Gatekeeper'
Late Tuesday night I realized that Brandi had not brought me her make-up work. I emailed Miss Sit-On-It-And-Twist asking (literally) what was up. I heard nothing.
On Wednesday the principal came to my room—a rare occurrence—to find out what had become of her. I said I had heard nothing. Upon checking my school mailbox, however, I found a stack of work from her. I was incredulous: after all this, the girl didn't even have the gall to bring it to me face-to-face? (I had been in my room NOT teaching all morning.) I relayed this information to the principal and asked him to send her to me if he saw her before I did.
Sure enough, Brandi paraded into my room this morning. There were other seniors already in my classroom who had come to ask me to sign their yearbooks; Brandi jovially chatted with her friend while I finished my autographs. Once the others had moved on, her friend took the same cue and left.
Brandi immediately apologized for not having brought her work in on Tuesday. I expressed my concern not that the work was late—er, later—but that she had dropped it in my box when I could be easily found. Again the jocular demeanor faded and she said, "I put it in your box because I didn't want to tell you why I didn't bring it on Tuesday."
I replied, "but you'll tell me now?"
Brandi said she had to walk from the Community College—where she takes afternoon classes to get a jump on credits—back to our high school because she was stranded without a ride. The two schools are in different zip codes.
I of course told her that she could have called the school and someone (even myself) would have picked her up. Or called a cab. Or something.
I suppose you're wondering how Brandi fared? With the work she submitted, her average came to 59.5%, which, rounded to 60%, is the lowest possible passing grade.
Brandi thanked me—sincerely, I hope—and said she'd see me at graduation. That I will.
On Wednesday the principal came to my room—a rare occurrence—to find out what had become of her. I said I had heard nothing. Upon checking my school mailbox, however, I found a stack of work from her. I was incredulous: after all this, the girl didn't even have the gall to bring it to me face-to-face? (I had been in my room NOT teaching all morning.) I relayed this information to the principal and asked him to send her to me if he saw her before I did.
Sure enough, Brandi paraded into my room this morning. There were other seniors already in my classroom who had come to ask me to sign their yearbooks; Brandi jovially chatted with her friend while I finished my autographs. Once the others had moved on, her friend took the same cue and left.
Brandi immediately apologized for not having brought her work in on Tuesday. I expressed my concern not that the work was late—er, later—but that she had dropped it in my box when I could be easily found. Again the jocular demeanor faded and she said, "I put it in your box because I didn't want to tell you why I didn't bring it on Tuesday."
I replied, "but you'll tell me now?"
Brandi said she had to walk from the Community College—where she takes afternoon classes to get a jump on credits—back to our high school because she was stranded without a ride. The two schools are in different zip codes.
I of course told her that she could have called the school and someone (even myself) would have picked her up. Or called a cab. Or something.
I suppose you're wondering how Brandi fared? With the work she submitted, her average came to 59.5%, which, rounded to 60%, is the lowest possible passing grade.
Brandi thanked me—sincerely, I hope—and said she'd see me at graduation. That I will.
5.25.2008
Small Victory No. 4
As one of their journal entries, I ask my GT English 9 students to consider why some people believe To Kill a Mockingbird to be objectionable, why the NAACP declares it is "unfit" for students, and whether they think ninth grade students should read it. This is one African-American student's response.
I believe that some people may find TKAM objectionable because of the views expressed by the characters in the novel. They consider black people as inferior and there is a constant use of the word "nigger" throughout the novel. The NAACP would most likely find it unfit for students for that reason, and because it is a way of demeaning blacks and may teach children that it is okay to use the word whenever they feel like it. I believe that TKAM is fit for people of all ages, and especially for ninth graders because it expresses a way of viewing how unfair discriminations against blacks in the past were. So by ninth graders understanding this it leads them not to want to be as blind from racism that their ancestors were. TKAM is a novel that expresses the views on quite a few different types of discrimination. By reading it, hopefully ninth graders can benefit by understanding that these discriminations were fueled by all of the jokes and fear and anger that people expressed towards a group of people, or a type of people. If a student can understand this and realize that it is wrong, then maybe there is hope that in the future there will be much fewer discriminations and racisms in the world. Since the children are the future of the world, and if they are educated on the harmful effects and unfair outcomes of unnecessary discriminations, then they will educate their offspring and so on, causing the amount of racism and segregation in the world to decrease drastically through time. Of course, this is only a hope for the future, but if it were even to affect one person in their views on racism, then that is still a step in the right direction.
I believe that some people may find TKAM objectionable because of the views expressed by the characters in the novel. They consider black people as inferior and there is a constant use of the word "nigger" throughout the novel. The NAACP would most likely find it unfit for students for that reason, and because it is a way of demeaning blacks and may teach children that it is okay to use the word whenever they feel like it. I believe that TKAM is fit for people of all ages, and especially for ninth graders because it expresses a way of viewing how unfair discriminations against blacks in the past were. So by ninth graders understanding this it leads them not to want to be as blind from racism that their ancestors were. TKAM is a novel that expresses the views on quite a few different types of discrimination. By reading it, hopefully ninth graders can benefit by understanding that these discriminations were fueled by all of the jokes and fear and anger that people expressed towards a group of people, or a type of people. If a student can understand this and realize that it is wrong, then maybe there is hope that in the future there will be much fewer discriminations and racisms in the world. Since the children are the future of the world, and if they are educated on the harmful effects and unfair outcomes of unnecessary discriminations, then they will educate their offspring and so on, causing the amount of racism and segregation in the world to decrease drastically through time. Of course, this is only a hope for the future, but if it were even to affect one person in their views on racism, then that is still a step in the right direction.
School Appropriate/Work Appropriate
Just in case we needed to contact one another between Friday and Tuesday, Brandi and I exchanged emails. As she jotted hers down on a Post-It, she said, "it's not really school-appropriate."
I looked down at the Post-It: sitonitandtwist@____.com.
I advised her that before she applied to any jobs, she may want to register an email account that resembled her name.
I looked down at the Post-It: sitonitandtwist@____.com.
I advised her that before she applied to any jobs, she may want to register an email account that resembled her name.
5.23.2008
Only Human: An Addendum to 'The Gatekeeper'
This morning I found a note in my mailbox from Brandi asking me to call her on her cell phone.
I waited until noon—how late do high school students sleep?—and dialed her up. She said she was heading over to school and that she would stop by my room to talk to me.
About fifteen minutes later, Brandi walked through the door. She's an attractive young lady: about 5'8", slender, always dressed in the latest fashions—sure jailbait for some unsuspecting guy in a bar. Once she sat down next to me, however, I saw the facade starting to crack. Her arms were mottled green and purple and she was trying her utmost not to cry in front of me.
When asked why she hadn't come talk to me sooner—this whole mess could have been avoided with some communication—she said through runny mascara that she was embarrassed, that she had to be a certain person for her peers, and she didn't want to let anyone know what was going on.
I soon realized that yesterday's judgment was premature as I had greatly underestimated the problems Brandi had at home. She said she had all of the work done, but her mother has had it in her possession; "Now," she said, "Mom's home and clean, so I can get to my backpack and give you my work."
I found myself telling Brandi that she could bring me the work on Tuesday, and I could grade it while she was still here so she would know her new grade right away.
Through tears she thanked me profusely, told me she loved me, and scurried out of the room.
My first reflection on this is one of self-loathing: I folded faster than superman on laundry day. Over a few tears. I'm the Gatekeeper, and I caved...just like that.
After speaking about this with a beloved colleague, my father, and finally my husband, I know now that if Brandi fails, it will actually be a detriment to the rest of her life. With a high school diploma, she will be able to register for classes at the Community College in the fall; from there she can finish the coursework to become an RN. Without a high school diploma, she will be unable to break free of the abusive lifestyle with which she has had to live for sometime now.
On Tuesday Brandi will bring me her missing work, and she will pass and graduate.
See Dénouement
I waited until noon—how late do high school students sleep?—and dialed her up. She said she was heading over to school and that she would stop by my room to talk to me.
About fifteen minutes later, Brandi walked through the door. She's an attractive young lady: about 5'8", slender, always dressed in the latest fashions—sure jailbait for some unsuspecting guy in a bar. Once she sat down next to me, however, I saw the facade starting to crack. Her arms were mottled green and purple and she was trying her utmost not to cry in front of me.
When asked why she hadn't come talk to me sooner—this whole mess could have been avoided with some communication—she said through runny mascara that she was embarrassed, that she had to be a certain person for her peers, and she didn't want to let anyone know what was going on.
I soon realized that yesterday's judgment was premature as I had greatly underestimated the problems Brandi had at home. She said she had all of the work done, but her mother has had it in her possession; "Now," she said, "Mom's home and clean, so I can get to my backpack and give you my work."
I found myself telling Brandi that she could bring me the work on Tuesday, and I could grade it while she was still here so she would know her new grade right away.
Through tears she thanked me profusely, told me she loved me, and scurried out of the room.
My first reflection on this is one of self-loathing: I folded faster than superman on laundry day. Over a few tears. I'm the Gatekeeper, and I caved...just like that.
After speaking about this with a beloved colleague, my father, and finally my husband, I know now that if Brandi fails, it will actually be a detriment to the rest of her life. With a high school diploma, she will be able to register for classes at the Community College in the fall; from there she can finish the coursework to become an RN. Without a high school diploma, she will be unable to break free of the abusive lifestyle with which she has had to live for sometime now.
On Tuesday Brandi will bring me her missing work, and she will pass and graduate.
See Dénouement
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