#CaEdChat is going on right now. I’m no doubt missing dozens of witty, hastily-typed tweets to type this, but I think it’s important.
Tonight, #CaEdChat is discussing questions, and I heard this one kicked around a lot, and I want to share my response to it.
This isn’t about the question that gets teachers the most excited.B It’s also not the boringest question we get all year.
It’s not the easiest question to answer, nor is it the hardest (though many teachers seem to think it is).
It’s the question that new teachers fear, but veteran teachers still wince when we hear it.
This question is one that drove us to become teachers in the first place, and it’s still being asked now, decades after we asked it toB our teachers, and our children and grandchildren will ask their teachers:
Why do we need to know this?
I usually get this question about 3 weeks into the year. If not, I pull it out with the first really abstract Math topic that we get. This year it was Classifying Real Numbers.
I got through the meat of the lesson and said,
Okay, put down your pencils, fold your hands and look at me. You’re probably wondering by now when you will use this in real life, yes? I’m going to tell you.
You won’t.
Odds are that most of you will go to jobs where you don’t need to do this [point to the board] in your career. However, it’s still important. Here’s why:
When I was in college, I used the same workout room as the football players. One day, I was lifting weights across from thisB huge guy. He picked up these massive weights and did this:
I was surprised, so I asked him, “Bro. Why are you doing that? Shouldn’t you practice sprints or throwing a football or something you’ll actually use?”
He responded, “Dude-ski, I may not use this motion in the game, but I use this muscle in the game, fo shizzle*.”
“I’m so glad I did those calf raises!”
Students, the math you learn in this class will work out your brain in ways that you will use. You will likelyB neverB need to classify real numbers in your profession, but because you worked out your brain, you’ll be smarter. You’ll be a better boyfriend, girlfriend, boss, employee, and friend.
Is that a fair answer?
So far, that answer has satisfied every class in my teaching career.
~Matt “Honest Abe” Vaudrey
*If the slang terms wasn’t clue enough on the decade when I was in college, here’s a picture of me and my roommates.
My wife has been watching the Bachelor, and occasionally, they will do a flashback to a part of the contestant’s past that is embarrassing.
This post is about my ugly ex-boyfriend, Standards.
In college, I majored in Youth Ministry and Adolescent Studies. I came into my first classroomb seventh grade at Edgewood Middle Schoolb as a youth pastor; ready to make friends with my students and receive their respect in return.
You can probably guess how that panned out.
That year was the hardest year of my life. I wept during planning period, sometimes at lunch, and even after school. In an attempt to fight back, I yelled, spewing venomous things at my teenagers, who sneered at my inconsistent discipline and became even more defiant and rude. Several times I called my wife or family and was talked off the ledge from quitting.
When I look back, there is one thing in particular thing that makes me wince.
Ohhhh!
Writing Standards
As a young teacher, I was terrified of calling parents for negative reasons. On the surface, I was uncomfortable calling someone older than me and speaking to them as an authority figure. Deep down dwelled a fear that they would turn the blame back on me, and I’d have no good response. Occasionally, that happened.
First-Year Vaudrey: Hello… uh… this is Mr. Vaudrey, I’m calling to discuss… um… David’s inappropriate jokes in class.
Parent: Well, David is standing right here, and he says that you laughed when he made that inappropriate joke, so why are you calling me?
Uh… yeah… but…
To avoid parent phone calls, I relied heavily on Standards.
In the opening scene of the Simpsons, Bart is “writing standards”. It’s an old practice, but a great way to keep kids busy.
Here are four reasons why it’s a terrible idea:
Number 1: Creates distaste of a Good Thing
It uses writingb something that should be enjoyableb and turns it into punishment. Some teachers (many years ago… hopefully) had students copy the dictionary when they were in trouble.
One wonders how those students feel about reading, writing, and big words after that experience.
Number 2: It’s Not Not the Worst emphasis on Negative
Standardsb by designb feature lots of “I will not…” The copious use of negatives is just ineffective. If I want a student to stop getting out of their seat, the prompt isn’t “Don’t get out of your seat!”, it’s “Stay in your seat.” Many of the standards I assigned began with “I will not…” which populated my class rules with a list ofB “nots”.
My psychologist sister recommended that my wife and I use “the positive opposite” when talking to our then-2-year-old daughter. The prompt “use gentle touches” is much more effective than “don’t hit.”
Number 3. It’s a Waste of Time
Writing standards doesn’t matter. It’s a hamster wheel. It’s a thing to keep student is diligently doing something besides bothering the teacher. Invariably, the students that acted out the most were the ones that needed my attention the most. Standards was a cop-out, a way to say “I don’t give a shitB what you do, as long as it doesn’t bother me.”
It’s a treadmill, in a class where they should be lifting weights.
This student was Special Ed, but not yet diagnosed. “Mike” spent about 90 minutes over three lunch periods writing this. Those 90 minutes could have been better spent in tutoring, perhaps learning his multiplication tables.B I took time that could have been used on academics and made his hand cramp.
Number 4:B The Bravado with Which I Assigned Them
Oh, how proud I was with my Standards! With increasing regularity, I sent students out of class to do them, pulled them in at lunch, even sent them home as a homework assignment. I bragged to colleagues that “corporal punishment is not dead!” I had a file folder bulging with them by Christmas, when I used them as gift-wrap for my family’s presents. I was so proud of that stack of student discomfortB because it appeared that I was managing my class.
I was not.
Instead, I was telling dozens of students, “This is a better use of your time than math.”
Now, several years later, IB never assign standards. When a student needs some time out, I give them a tangle tableB or an assignment that they haven’t finished yet.
Now, I’m telling them, “You need a break from the class. Use the time productively.”
Which is what IB want to communicate to them.
~Mr. Vaudrey
For dinner, my wife and I will sometimes get frozen pizza from the grocery store, and put a ton of vegetables on it. So we can tell ourselves it’s healthy and that we’re allowed to drink beer on a Tuesday night.
Don’t judge me.
Tonight, I diced vegetables while my wife bathed our baby.
Above: Much cuter than sun-dried tomatoes.
Our conversation went like this:
Vaudrey: How hot is the oven for this pizza?
Wife (from the bathroom): What?
Vaudrey: How hot does the oven have to be?
Wife: It says on the box.
Vaudrey: I already recycled the box, and I don’t want to dig it up, I just want you to tell mb
I froze mid-sentence.
Oh, God. I thought.B I have become my students.
Just like Zac Efron, but less gorgeous.
How am I any different from them when they ask me the myriad of silly questions, to which, they could find the answer?
“What page does this go on?”
“How do I factor a difference of two squares?”
“What’s five times eight?”
“What page does this go on? I forgot already.”
In recent years, websites like Khan AcademyB and MathTV have sprung up, hosting hundreds of videos to explain Math to students in their own home. The sites are met with resistance and gnashing of teeth from teachers, who don’t want our jobs outsourced to the internet. I’ve never been worried.
My discussion with my wife is why online courses will never replace the classroom for adolescents. The most efficient content-delivery system in the world cannot reproduce relationships. Students come to my class for the math, but they stay because conversation is how they build a framework to understand the world.
After our Start-of-the-Period Routine, my first period sat quietly as we made a foldable together. They asked pertinent questions about the Discriminant as we colored, cut, and took notes on colored paper.
I then gave them options for two different activities, one of which involves walking around the class and submitting answers on digital responders. The instant I put on Pandora[1], the entire class…
…went to work. Every one of them started one of the activities, grabbed whiteboards to show their work, and murmured quiet calculations in pairs or trios.
“Class, please return to your sea-! Oh… never mind.”
I looked around the class for something to do and I noticed…
…they don’t need me.
And that is how I define a successful class.
The class average for the responders was 90%. All that’s missing to make my class complete heaven is Han Solo giving me a high-five.
[1]The Pandora stations that I use for quiet studying are Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Ludovico Einaudi, and City and Colour (make sure explicit content is turned off).
Today, my iPad class all got trained in DropBox, the online file-sharing service.
One student got a tough lesson.
Embarrassing, like the time I asked Mitt if his full name was Mittens.
All students downloaded the app and signed in with the same email and password. If you’re interested, click here to see how and why.
During the installation process, I specifically said, “Click LOGIN, then wait and do nothing.”
One student clicked ALLOW AUTO UPLOAD and a few dozen of her picturesB uploaded to the class folder. A nicer teacher would have quickly deleted them.
Guess who didn’t?
The whole class could see my iPad mirrored on the screen as I scrolled through OneDirection, Justin Bieber and a few of her self-portraits with duckface.
The student was, of course, mortified as I showed how easy it is to save a picture of Bruno Mars and use it as my background.
I’m an educator. Today, I taught about online privacy.
(Credit to my brother for the Romney joke. It made the debates adorable.)
As any math teacher will tell you, there are very few “normal” days, so I’ll just pick a day. I rolled a die and came up with a five, so Ib ll write about last Friday.
6:08 AM Alarm goes off. It beeps exactly once before my wife elbows me and hisses, b get it!b . Our eight-week-old baby just finished feeding at 5:30, and my dear little wife is not about to sacrifice a sleeping baby so a husband can snooze.
One of these things is cute, and one needs to get the hell out of bed.
6:45 AM Ib m fed, dressed, and packed. My wife packed my lunch the night before (and she has packed 98% of my lunches to date. Sorry, fellas; I got the best wife.), so I grab it from the fridge, kiss my two girls on their sleeping heads, and Ib m off.
7:12 AM My drive to work is 36 minutes door-to-door, so I have time to listen to NPR, Sigur RE
s, or stand-up comedy (which I usually save for the drive home).
7:30 AM Itb s the Friday before Thanksgiving. I graded all of yesterdayb s tests, and the only two items on our class agenda are Notebook Check and Test Corrections. I take the rubrics off my printer and head down to P-13 to borrow the paper-trimmer from Hodge.
NON-TEACHER NOTE: Students wonb t see my class for nine days. If I assign homework, it wonb t get done. So I have to pick something that can be started in class, completed over the break if the students are really motivated, and optional. Enter the Test Corrections.
If my life were a movie, it would be called “Enter the Test Corrections”.
7:52 AM With 20 minutes before students arrive, I organize my desk. If my desk is unorganized, I feel like my life is unorganized. I stack papers, file them, and start a Break To-Do List. It quickly grows to 12 items.
8:01 AM I have a small guitar amp and an iPod connector. On test days, the day before break, or other exciting days, I play tunes outside my portable. Because the math teachers are all in a row, I play Eye of the Tiger or The Final Countdown on days that we test. It helps take the edge off and, frankly, itb s frigginb fun to dance and rap wearing my test day shirt.
8:10 AM The bell rings and I step outside to shake the hands of students as Flobotsb b Handlebarsb bumps through 15 watts as bleary-eyed students amble toward the gray doors of our classrooms. My phone rings and four 8th graders yell anxiously, b Can I get it?b I nod to the closest one and keep shaking hands and rapping.
Look at me, look at me;
just called to say that itb s good to be
alive in such a small world.
All curled up with a book to read.
I ask the phone student to have Mr. Garrett call back later. Maybe he wants to borrow the video camera again.
I can show you how to do-si-do,
I can show you how to scratch a record.
I can take apart a remote control,
and I can almost put it back together.
8:20 AM The announcements are over and I turn my b Fill out your planner and start the warm-upb music back on. Consistent procedures breed good behavior, and the first 20 minutes of my class are the same every day.
I announce as they work, b Get moving, we have the 7th graders coming today.b The class moans.
I stand up straight with a huge smile. b Letb s try that again, but with a positive attitude: The seventh graders are coming today!b About twelve students cheer and the rest grumble quietly. My class culture is happy, you unenthusiastic turds. Get used to it.
8:23 AM The timer beeps and students begin presenting the warm-up to the class. My computer is still updating.
8:26 AM Time for b Good Thingsb , where students share b good thingsb that are going on in their lives. Any good thing will do, but eventually, everyone must share something. In the interest of time (hat tip to Tim Bedley) , I have them share good things with each other first, then pick three names to share with the class.
8:27 AM We finish Good Things just as Jennab s class walks up my ramp. Her 7th grade GATE class has been working with my 8th grade iPad Algebra class to team up on the Stock Market Game.
b Wow, Netflix stock seems to be doing well. What else is a business that is on the rise right now?b
b Ouch, McDonaldb s is down a whole dollar from last week. Do you want to trade for something else?b
b Who else wants a hint? (a few hands wave) Okay, what big products are being released this week? How might those companiesb stocks reflect that?b
A few students blurt out, b Twilight!b or b Black Ops II!b before their group shushes them. It is a nationwide contest, after all. One of my groups is ranked 18 out of 50,000.
“You invested in Blockbuster? Their market share has been in decline for six consecutive quarters!”
9:07 AM After the 7th graders leave, and we move on to Notebook Check. Itb s the usual b swap with a partnerb and b make sure you grade fairlyb , except I gave them a rubric so they canb t mess it up. The rest of the period is spent on test corrections.
9:43 AM Bell rings and I bid them a 9-day farewell. Then I pump up the jams and get ready for period 2.
10:30 AM The next period goes way smoother. It turns out that 90 minutes is plenty of time to run through our usual classroom routine and still do two other things.
10:40 AM In the downtime between passing in the notebook checks and passing out tests, one student stands up behind me. Troy is usually running his mouth, and most often about nothing. Here are a few gems:
Mr. Vaudrey, being a Siamese twin would be great. You could punch somebody coming at you from the side.
Mr. Vaudrey, I had a game this weekend. The coach said that I could play for the high school if I get my grades up.
Mr. Vaudrey, rainbow monkeys are like bootleg CareBears.
This time, however, heb s sticking out his chest and walking towards Lars, who is sitting. Troy is clearly upset, spouting aggressive (but not foul) nonsense:
b You think you so bad, talking crap about me? You think I canb t hear you? I know what you said! You got a problem with me? Do something, then!b
I know that Troy wonb t actually fight Lars, so I calmly direct Troy outside. I have a volunteer collect the rubrics while I ask Lars what happened. He admits that he asked Troy to quit talking so much and Troy got upset.
One of the things I love about my job is helping adolescents see how their actions define them and helping them see their actions through the eyes of other students. When it works, itb s awesome.
Vaudrey: Well, then why isnb t Lars outside, too, if he was saying those things?
Troy: Ohhb & cuz he didnb t stand up and get aggressive.
Truth Bomb.
11:23 AM The class ends and I have lunch. I pass the time planning my week off and add more items to my To-Do list. It grows to 20 items.
12:03 PM Algebra Concepts. Ib ve written about this class before: about the behavior issues, the challenges, and the draining effect it has on me. I have 90 minutes of semi-structured class time, so if this is to go well, I need to be all business and crack down early. So I do.
12:20 PM This is going pretty well! Ericab the RSP teacherb points out that: next time, we should just have them grade their own notebooks instead of swapping with someone across the class.
I donb t care that much. If they cheat, BFD. They stole one percentage point on their grade.
1:09 PM They finished the notebook check and going over the answers to the test. Here are some highlights from the period so far:
Andrew continues to have impulse control and is on the verge of pissing off Ryan so much that heb ll throw a punch. I have Andrew pull a desk outside.
James (much like Lars) knows that he can say quiet things to antagonize Sandra until she gets loud. I have the exact same conversation with Sandra outside that I had with Troy earlier that day, with one difference:
Vaudrey: Why are you outside, but James isnb t?
Sandra: Cuz he be saying stuff about me and Ib m not just gonna sit there and take it.
Vaudrey: I believe you, but why are you outside and heb s not? Am I picking on you?
Sandra: No.
Vaudrey: Am I racist?
Sandra: No.
Vaudrey: Then what is it?
Mia and Sandra want to work on their project together, so I let Sandra change seats to be closer to Mia. Val, a boy sitting nearby, isnb t happy about it.
Sandra: Can I work with Mia? Web re partners on this project.
Vaudrey: Yes, go ahead.
Val: Aw, man. Do I have to stay here? Now, I have to listen to BOTH of b em.
Vaudrey: Turn around so you donb t have to see them.
Sandra: I know he not talkinb to me like that.
Mia: If he say somethinb to me, Ib m finna slap him. Thatb s just how it is.
Vaudrey: Thatb s not okay, but itb s your choice.
1:20 PM Andrew has been working outside for about ten minutes when he pops his head in and cries, b Mr. Vaudrey! Thereb s some graffiti out here! It wasn’t me!b
I stroll outside, re-direct Andrew to sit, and follow his finger, b Look!b . On nameplate for my class it says, P-08 Wheelchair Accessible. Below that, in pencil, somebody wrote, fuck you mr vaudrey along with an arrow pointing to my name that says bitch!.
b It wasnb t me, I swear!b Andrew looks terrified, so I assure him that I recognize his innocence. I return inside to ponder and I mention to Erica what I just noticed.
b Really?!b Her eyes get wide, partly because she didnb t think I would quote it while standing near students. I have no qualms about repeating their foul words in class, partly because I like how silly they sound when I repeat exactly what they say. b Do you know who it was?b she asks.
b Meh. I have a theory (Sandra is the only one whob s been outside for discipline this period), but it doesnb t matter. Itb s more that Ib m sad for them; that they have such anger in their heart.b
I say this loud enough for several students nearby to hear. One of them is Ryan. Remember him? The one who screamed, b I hate you!b a month ago? He was sitting nearby for my exchange with Erica.
Ryan stood up and walked directly outside. Andrew was very quick to volunteer his authority on the issue. b See, Ryan? Itb s right there. I didnb t write it, though. I just found it.b
Ryan, without a word, begins furiously erasing.
b Ryan,b I say gently. b You donb t have to do that.b He continues erasing until the words are gone, then until the smudges are gone, then until my nameplate is good as new.
b Thank you, Ryan.b I say softly. Without a word, he returns to his seat with Erica just as the clean-up song plays over my sound system. The class runs through the 11-times-table and the bell rings.
1:54 PM I call a studentsb mom to see when she will come retrieve his iPad (which was confiscated as he played games in class). Turns out, sheb s coming for a conference.
2:40 PM Conferences for middle-school boys are pretty similar. They go in this order:
Explain in detail each assignment the boy hasnb t done.
Explain in detail an example of his bad behavior.
Pause for the parent to explain how important it is for the boy to do well in school
Make a plan of action with some consequence.
3:10 PM I excuse myself to go unlock the iPad cart for students after PE. As I leave, the team begins to discuss the idea of this studentb s removal from the iPad class if he canb t pull his grades up.
3:18 PM All the iPads are gone and students are fleeing the campus for the Thanksgiving break.
4:10 PM I arrive home to a squirming baby and a wife who is happy to hand her off for a few minutes. We forage from the fridge, and bounce the baby. After watching three episodes of Boy Meets World and talking about our respective days, we put the baby down for the night.
7:47 PM The wife and I play Tetris. Itb s been five years of marriage and 8 years of dating, and we still play Tetris together. The main difference is that now we have to whisper trash talk so we wonb t wake the baby.
I’m not sure how itB becameB my testing shirt, but I faithfully wear it on every day that my students test (including every day of CST). Students and teachers across campus know that it’s a test day when I wear this shirt.
And occasionally, they dedicate works of art to the shirt.
(Occasionally, they have forgotten and they remember when they see the shirt. “Awww, we have aB test today?”)
At Ross my first year teaching, this shirt was just too awesome to turn down. I’ve definitely gotten my $8 worth over the years.
I first met Kelli during the first month of my first year teaching.
Well, I donb t actually recall the day that I met her. My first two weeks of teaching were such a whirlwind–the details meld together into a trauma of botched activities, stuttering lessons, clunky worksheets, and the occasional discipline issue (which soon became frequent discipline issues).
I do, however, remember when I first saw Kellib s fifth period. My Assistant Principalb after watching the vehicular collision that was my fifth periodb said, b You have to watch Kelli teach.b
The next day during my planning period, I followed A.P. into the back of Kellib s class with my notebook, completely clueless for what I would write down.
I wish I had videotaped itb it was pure poetry. Like watching Olympic figure skating.
First, the students filed in with subdued murmurs and sat down quietly. I had seen these students during lunchb they were not quiet people. Kelli taught Algebra Readiness, an 8th grade class for students who didnb t pass Pre-Algebra last year. A rough-and-rowdy bunch of surly teens with odors and attitudes sour enough to curdle the milk in your grammab s teacup. It wasnb t even my class, and I got nervous.
“Miss Webb, I don’t got a pencil.”
b Please take out your packet and turn to S.P. 15.b Kelli calmly intoned over the rustle of paper. The bell had just sounded and all her students were in their seats, most with their pencils out. I looked around the room and thought I was dreaming:
Her 18 students were evenly spread throughout the room, most of them alone at a table.
All the hats were off.
Nobody touched each other.
No backpacks or purses were in laps, all rested on the floor or the chair next to them.
Most of the students had their packets out and were hunched over them, silently working.
Kelli began to weave through the rows, giving little comments.
b Thank you for getting started, Jamal.b
b Good start, Maria. Put your mirror away, please.b
And this was when I knew I was in the presence of greatness:
b Miguel, please spit out your gum.b
Miguel curled his lip, b I donb t have any gum.b
b Let me tell you what I donb t do.b Kelli bristled, straightening to her full six-foot-two and narrowing her eyes. b I donb t argue with children. Spit it out.b
I’m surprised Miguel didn’t piss himself. I got chills just writing that.
Miguel paused, considering his chances of winning a battle with a woman twice his size and thrice his age. He wisely stood and leaned over the trashcan as Kelli moved on to other tables. The thunk of his gum in the metal wastebasket was the only noise in room A5, save for the delicate scratch of pencil on paper.
After about five minutes, Kelli produced some more magic. She went through the worksheet with the class.
Now, any teacher can walk through problems, but nobody in Ms. Webbb s class got bored. She pulled names from a cup of popsicle sticks (what teachers called b random samplingb in those days) and asked students for their responses.
Ms. Webb: Ysela, number 5.
Ysela: Ummb & I didnb t get it.
Ms. Webb: Okay, what do you think we should do first?
Ysela: Ummb &. Take away seven?
Ms. Webb: (grimaces) Ooh! Is there a mathematical way to say that?
Ysela: Ummb &Subtract seven from both sides of the equation.
Ms Webb: Oh, much better. I like that. Damon, take over number 5.
It was magical. She coaxed answers from students who hate math (or so they tell their friends). These students have made a career out of coasting and doing nothing, but they have nowhere to hide from the watchful eye of Ms. Webb.
And risk.
No… not that one.
Non-teachers may not realize this, but Ysela was hoping to be ignored, skipped, and left at peace. Getting students like Ysela to take a stab at a foreign problem is hard work. By eighth grade, she’s learned that the three magic words “I don’t know” will get her skipped in most other classes, and enough skips will get her ignored entirely.
In Ms. Webbb s class, there was no ignored seat, no back of the class, no hats pulled down, and no students get to pass on a problem. If you donb t know, take a guess.
Itb s one of several things that Ib ve stolen for my own class.
CMC Attenders: For Attachments, click the link next to “HOME”
Hello, fellow teachers, administrators, and people on a Google Image search for “Barbie” (who account for about 400 hits per day).
My colleague–Gabrielle Mejia–and I are presenting at the California Mathematics Council on Student Motivation. The Mullet Ratio lesson, which feels like it happened years ago, would have been a good session as well. But since all the materials are already posted for free online, it felt like milking a gimmick.
And frankly, I hope that my class has more than one good thing happening in it.
Mullets and Apple TV and Snowboards, oh my!
I have attended CMC faithfully during my teacher career and, in addition to several pocketfuls of free pens, there are a lot of good things happening in Palm Springs.
We present on Saturday in Smoke Tree C at 3:15.B Regrettably,B this is the same time slot as Dan Meyer; a digital colleague of mine who puts on a great presentation every time.
UPDATE 3 November 2012:
That was easier than I thought it would be. I had presented before as part of a panel, and I was worried that I’d put my foot in my mouth in front of peers.
At some point during CMC every year, I feel like the freshman that got invited to the varsity party. Everybody is older and more established than me, and yet my session was attended by teachers many years my senior that appeared to value my input. Cool.
I would definitely do that again, though I’ll be sure to wear a mic next time.
I pause the Glue Song and ring the tiny bell on the cart.
“People, look over here. This pink paper is LAMIAH, that was yesterday’s homework that I forgot to pass out. Please raise your hand if you need it and Frank will pass it out. This white paper is MARSHALL. Glue MARSHALL and the Warm-up into your Math notebook, please.”
(This is the Glue Song. It’s a sound cue, telling the students that the directions on the board involve glue.)
I hand a pink stack to Frank and put the Glue Song back on. As soon as the music hits their pubescent ears, I am beset by questions.
“Mr. Vaudrey, you forgot to stamp my planner.”
“Mr. Vaudrey, do I glue them on the same page?”
“Mr. Vaudrey, can I get a drink of water? But I’m thirsty!”
“Mr. Vaudrey, can I do number one?”
“Mr. Vaudrey, my dog attacked a rabbit this morning.”
“Mr. Vaudrey, I didn’t get LAMIAH.”
“Mr. Vaudrey, did you hear that? James said he’s gonna hurt me!”
“You need Mark in the office? Thank God.”
I only have 21 students in this class, but each one has specific needs on my time, and any one of them ignored will cause a cavalcade that will corrode the rest of the period.
“Then take your planner out right away so I can see it. I don’t care how you glue them, it’s up to you. You just had lunch. Talk to Maria and Desmond to see which ones they are doing. That’s great; do the warm-up. Frank is passing it out, he’ll be here in a sec. You did the right thing by not responding to him. James, let me speak to you outside.”
It’s possible that the homeless guy in Glendora who talks to himself–seemingly sporadically–is just replaying conversations from when he used to teach middle school.
Typically, when non-teachers actually see my classroom, they exclaim, “Wow. I could never do that.” It makes me feel good; knowing that my six years of skills are beginning to take shape into a career.
But my students are just a different bunch. At least nobody masturbated at their desk today. (Some students have done that in last year’s classes).
The first part of the period is the hopeful part; the class can go either way. Either they will be motivated and hard-working…
… or he will give up, seek distractions, lament “I don’t get it!” with her head on the desk, tuck his head in his shirt and rock back and forth, tell the new girl she’s fat, tell him he can go to hell, tell her to go eat a cheeseburger, he’ll chew gum, claim it isn’t gum, and ask to go to the nurse.
All of which happened in the first 15 minutes of our lesson on Slope.
I have to remind myself (in the moment, especially) that they weren’t born this way. These students are the product of low skills, bad teachers, lazy parents, low-income community, a disinterested school culture, and Hot Cheetos con Limon. Any one of those by itself would be a challenge, and in 4th period, I have a huge cocktail.
Which, coincidentally, is what I’m craving after they leave.
Celebrate the successes and push through the challenges.
Come on, Vaudrey. These kids need learnin’ and you’re just the guy to do it.
