Mrvaudrey

Tag: Teaching

  • Nancy’s Christmas Gift

    (Names and details have been changed for confidentiality.)

    bb&and was recently examined for ADHD.b

    I lean back at my desk withB relief and close the e-mail. I wonder if she got prescribed anything. Maybe that will calm her down.

    Thatbs the problem with students like Nancybthey really challenge your teaching philosophy.

    On the one side, I want all of my students to succeed and learn Algebra in my class. On the other hand, I would secretly love for a test to render Nancy a bSpecial-Edb label, so she could have an aide to supervise her, or (even easier) get her out of my class. About 92% of me wants her to succeed in my class with no help.

    But that 8% of meb& oh, I hope for a release from her yelling, leaving her desk, poking other students, standing next to me during a lesson with her hand up, and other impulsive middle-schooler behaviors. But that 8% is present in every one of my sighs, every exasperated response, and every time I rub my temples as she asks, bMr. Vaudrey, am I annoying?b

    Yes, Nancy. Yes.

    You annoy me and every other student in the class when you call out to them across the room during a test, when you ask questions to people who arenbt even looking at you, and especially when you monitor whobs next for the bathroom pass. Youbre annoying when you proclaim that youbll buy students expensive birthday gifts, but never follow through.

    Itbs annoying, even though Ibm pretty sure your mom is unemployed, and your promise to buy Brandon an iPad is all pomp to mask the shame.

    Nancybs mom is baffled at how to control her. There are rumors that she has Nancy stand in the corner for hours at a time just so she can have some peace. The staff at school isnbt sure where Dad is, but we know that the family doesnbt have much money. Nancy waited weeks to get glasses and didnbt bring any of the four items she promised for the class party.

    So itbs Thursday before Winter Break. Nancy comes to my class before school starts.

    bGood morning, Nancy. Youbre about 5 hours early to class.b

    She smiles, shuffles her feet and avoids eye contact. bUmb& Mr. Vaudrey? Likeb& my mom works at Nordstrombs andb& umb& I didnbt know what to get youb& sob& umb& like, web& uh. We got you this.b She holds out a small, unassuming gift bag with a bent tag and a card. To: Mr. Vaudrey. From: Nancy.

    bThank you, Nancy! This is the first gift Ibve gotten this year. Thank you very much.b I shake her hand and hold the gift still, hoping to signal to her that itbs polite to leave after you give a gift. She gets the hint and clumps off to first period in her too-big shoes.

    Back behind my desk, I open the card first, like the good boy my mother raised. The card, written in Nancybs pointed scrawl says, bMr. Vaudrey thank you very much for help me in my work and helping me be a good person inclass.b

    I peel back the tissue paper. Inside the bag are cologne samples from Nordstrombs.

    From a low-income family who wanted to give a gift to their daughterbs teacher.

  • First Day of School

    B 7:25 a.m. August 10th, 2011

    Ibm dazed. Feel like Ibm dehydrated, but I know Ibm not. My mouth is dry and my tongue has the bitter taste that one gets before throwing up. I had to pull over in Etiwanda to have an emergency bathroom break and my stomach continues to curdle.

    All this after four years of teaching, the first day of year fivebyear fivebin the classroom, and 25 thirteen-year-olds still make me nervous on the first day of school.

    And this morning felt like I was force-feeding myself. Every bite of granola I had to wash down with apple juice.

    Since I was a kid, Ibve gotten anxious before big events. I can recall having to pull over on the way to the city-wide 12K when I was in middle school. Recently, when I climbed Mt. San Gorgonio, I had to squat in the snow on the side of highway 38 and wipe with snow.

    It was tingly.

    I wonder if taking something would make these days easier. Ibd still be anxious, but at least I wouldnbt need to pull over at a Shell station to take care of some business.

    And now Ibm about to arrive to work 20 minutes later than I wanted to get there. Itbs not badbI only have a few things left to do that will probably take about five minutes before students arrive. But still, itbs a bit nerve-wracking.

    7:42 a.m.

    The new job didnbt become real until I arrived on campus and heard the first pre-teen girl hugging her friend and creaming bOmigaaaaaawd! How was your summerrrrrrrr?b

    Up until then, I thought Hey, I got offered a new job, I might take it.

    Or This job sounds real good, itbs got high pay. Maybe I should check it out.

    Itbs now my new job; I work at Mountain View Middle School.

    I am Mr. Vaudrey. The math teacher.

    4:47 p.m.

    This morning, I saw a pack of boys as I walked by, and they gave me bthe eyeb.

    I used to see bthe eyeb when I was a student in middle school, and packs sought to pick on me. It means that the pack is sizing you up for weaknesses, seeing if they can pick on you to make themselves feel better. Even though Ibm now older and smarter and bigger and stronger than they are, I still get the eye because theybre in a pack and Ibm by myself.

    Just after I pass them, I hear one of the pack yell, bHey, you a teacher?b

    And I know the game. I know theybre looking for a way to bend me around their will, and thus, take some of the power from me, the teacher. So without stopping, I turn slightly and say bYep.b

    bWell, whatbs your name?b Now the whole pack is watching.

    I quickly turn around and beckon the vocal student to walk with me. bWhat?b I beckon again and keep walking.

    I know that, if I stop walking, then he is the cause of my stop. It sounds trivial. It sounds like nothingbbut then he just made a teacher do something. He was in control, he bent the grown-up to his will.

    I can hear him scampering behind me and as I round a corner of a building, he tries again, bWait! Whatbs your name?b

    I wave again and say, bWalk with me.b

    He looks back at his friends, looks at me, and says, bNaw, Ibm okay.b And returns to the pack.

    I continue to my class and permit myself a smug grin. I won.

  • Portraits

    I have never received a student drawing that I didn’t like. Here are a few.

    20110928-160347.jpg
    This was today, one of my honor students skipped to my desk to show me. The delicate sketches of honor students bear littleB resemblanceB to the drug-induced sketches of Kidz in the Hood.

    20110928-161847.jpg
    Case in point. This beauty fell out of a student binder, probably from last year.

    20110929-114306.jpg
    This was a recent gift. I think this student drew the entireB thing, then decided to make it about me.

    20110929-114444.jpg
    Another drawing brought to you by marijuana. As you can see, I taught at schools where the students viewed Christianity … differently.

    Then again, I’d rather be a sheep than wearing a leash with a cross in my ass.

  • Trial and Error

    bMr. Vaudrey, Ibm stuck on this problem.b Nathan waved me over during after-school tutoring one day in April 2011.

    bOkay, let me have a look.b I said, leaning over his table.

    bAh,b I straightened and strode to the whiteboard, pulling a marker from my back pocket. bI recommend plugging each point into the function and seeing if they work. Three of them wonbt work. The one left over is the correct answer.b

    Nathan scrunched his nose and furrowed his brow. bThat seems like going around the b& the idea. Isnbt there, like, a formula or something?b

    bWell, in this case, the line is the solution to that function, so youbre seeing which of these points fit inside the solution.b

    Nathan leaned back. bYeah, I get it. It just doesnbt feel like good math.b

    I laughed, bYeah, well sometimes in real life, you gotta try stuff until something works.b

    [

    B bMister Vaudreeeeee!b Natalie screeched, sprinting across the classroom with Jenny in tow. bSomebody took my pink pen.b

    Itbs January of 2008, my first year teaching. I am drowning in the flow of my responsibilities without the skills to paddle my way out. We just got back into class from a fire drill and Natalie is distraught.

    bIt was her Christmas present, Mr. Vaudrey.b Jenny states with a somber face. bIt was a Gel Sparkle.b

    bOkay.b I rub my eyes, deciding if this is worth my trouble. Deep in my psyche is a youth pastor, feeling the need to be liked by my students and wanting to play a little joke on the other students. I lean in close and say, bWatch this.b

    bAlright, listen up!b I stride purposefully from my desk to the front of the class. bWhoever took Nataliebs gel pen, give it back or the whole class gets detention. I am not kidding!b

    The irony being that I totally was kidding. I had no intention of giving anybody detention, especially if Natalie got her pen back.

    This was an interesting time in my teaching career. I recognized the importance of honesty and the reward that had to be inherent.

    • B If Chris stole Natalie’s pen and gave it back, he took a risk and was honest. If I give him detention, he learns that itbs better to be sneaky and avoid consequence.
    • If I give Chris thanks for stepping up and congratulate his boldness to take responsibility, I show him that redemption is more gratifying than sneakiness

    Yet in this situation, Ibm prepared to make an idle threat to the whole class in hopes that Natalie could possibly have her stupid pen returned.

    Nobody produced the pen, and nobody got detention.

    The students left knowing that I sometimes make threats where I donbt follow through. If I were a student, I would store that information for later. Perhaps when I get in trouble, I can point out Mr. Vaudreybs inconsistency with bBut you didnbt take away Adrianbs phone when he was texting!b

    Later that year, two students had their pencils stolen during fire drills. I ignored it.

    [

    Ehhn! Ehhn! Ehhn!

    The students looked up from their books as the fire alarm grabbed their attention.

    bAlright, folks. Grab your pencils and head outside!b I shout over the siren and point towards the door.

    bPencils? Why are webb

    bNo time to ask questions! Itbs a fire drill! Get outside if you donbt wanna burn, child!b With eyes wide, I gestured dramatically toward the door.

    The students smile, pocket their pencils and head out the door in a bunch. Once in the evacuation zone, I line them up and take attendance.

    Back in the classroom 20 minutes later, a student asks, bMr. Vaudrey, why did we take our pencils?b

    I think back to Natalie and her stolen Sparkle pen and say. bFirewood. We donbt want to give the fire anything more to burn. Now, let’s talk more about Vectors.b

  • Dear President Obama

    Dear President Obama,

    I gave you my vote in 2008 and I am still 100% glad that I did. Ibve never doubted you in your 14 months so far and I think youbre fabulous. This is a letter commending your triumphs because you are an easy man to criticize; people love to throw stones at the TV screen knowing the President wonbt yell back.

    As an American, Ibm fan of Healthcare reform. So committed, in fact, that I find myself in the minority for the first time in my life. Ibm a White, Protestant, Middle-class male with a Masterbs degree. Ibm from an upper-middle class family and so is my wife.

    Ibm in the minority for this reason: Ibm prepared to pay more taxes for the same health coverage so that medical coverage could be provided to those less fortunate than I am. Ibm sure if everybody thought this way, webd have a bill already, but Ibm prepared to wait until we find a bill that people quit complaining about.

    (And Ibll tell any Republicans I know to put some of their energy into building bills instead of tearing them down.)

    Unrelated to health care, I support several unpopular ideas and I figured that youbd like a voice in the trenches. So here it is from an educator:

    Merit Pay is a great idea if properly and concretely implemented. I wonbt suggest what that system will be, but I can say from my own experience that teachers who stink are kept in the payroll way too long. Exciting and motivated teachers have little incentive to do a good job when tenured teachers get paid more to sit behind their desk and hand out worksheets. Itbs depressing.

    NCLB is hated universally among teachers that I know. We all agree that the students in our classes need better skills and that a great way to measure that is test scores, but to claim that all schools reach an API score of 800 by the year 2014 is ridiculous. If you donbt know much about API, then you can trust me on this; itbs ridiculous.

    We understand that the White House has bigger fish to fry than No Child Left Behind reform. For now, we teachers are fine to just b& not talk about it.

    Itbs also pretty apparent that youbre not a big fan of people applauding you; I respect that and empathize. I giggled when Michelle motioned for the house to bsit downb during the standing ovation for her obesity plan.

    All that to say that I think youbre great and I will support you until you do something crazy, like invade Canada

    b& and probably even after that. They’ve been asking for it, eh.

    ~V

  • I thought I’d heard it all

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    At first, Jane was just another bproblem studentb who had trouble focusing. She claimed that she was just hyper, or just had a bunch of candy; the usual excuses. I thought that I had made a breakthrough when she told me she was dyslexic. My eyes lit up as I moved her to the front of the class and provided the notes in advance with blanks for her to fill in. I was excited to be able to meet her needs as a teacher.

    Then she started missing school. Shebd come in late with a limp and ask to be left alone for the day.B bWhatbs the matter? Hungover again?bB Ibd smirk.

    bSomething like that,b she said with a weak smile. Later that day, shebd murmur something about a spinal tap.

    bOh, man!bB I said,B bmy sister had one of those and she got awful headaches.b

    bYeah,b she said. bI have headaches; I couldnbt do the homework last night.b A pretty weak excuse as excuses go. Ibve heard a lot of them. Ibve heard a lot of excuses.

    Then shebd miss a whole day. She came back to class with no energy and didnbt have the pluck to talk to her classmates during the lesson or distract her neighbor. bI was with family. Therebs drama at my house. I couldnbt finish the project.b Ibve heard that one a lot, but I give grace for unstable home lives. I thought Ibd heard it all.

    Soon she was out a whole week at a time. The office would call and say that Jane was in the hospital and her mom was coming to pick up her assignments. Hospital is a good excuse. One of the best Ibve heard. I thought Ibd heard it all.

    When she got back, Ibd be patient and show her what she missed. Jane was pretty bright and could have gotten an A if she were in class more often. I would tell her that when filling her in on the Perimeter and Area of Trapezoids.

    Eventually, she leveled with me.

    bMr. V, I have cancer.b

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    bLike bad cancer?bB I asked.

    bWell, itbs a b& osteoblastomab& I think.b

    I know enough to know that having bblastb in the name isnbt a good sign, but I keep a straight face.B So whatbs the plan?

    bNothing,b she shrugged.

    bWhat do you mean, nothing? I mean whatbs the plan for treatment? Chemo? Radiation?b

    bNope. I donbt want none of that. My auntie had cancer in her face, and even after they took it out, she still has it, like under her eye. The radiation just made her hair fall out. Ibm already losing my hair and I ainbt gonna be one of them bald girls.b

    I tilted my head sideways. bSob& thatbs it? Just giving up? How long do you have?b

    bWell, the doctor says if I eat right and take the pills then I could have years left, but I donbt even eat at all now and those pills make me tired. So maybeb&six months?b

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    bWhy not fight it?b

    bOh, uh-uh. I saw what it did to my auntie. Three weeks in a hospital and it didnbt even cure nothing. I hate hospitals to begin with. I ainbt doin that. My momma wants me to do the treatment, but she knows itbs my life. Itbs my decision.b

    bHmmb&Ibm curious why not; it seems like you haveB yearsB to gain by risking weeks.b

    bMr. V, it sounds like you trying to convince me.b She grins a winning smile, white teeth against her dark skin.

    bNo; youbre going to do what you want to do. I just want to understand you and make sure you know what youbre doing. Do you journal?b

    bNo.b

    bYou should start.b

    bWhy?b

    bBecause,bB I say, touching my head. bThe right side of your brain is where emotions lie and the left side is where speech, writing, and logic lie. By writing or talking about your feelings, you move the ideas to the logic side and can see things more clearly. Think about it.b

    bOkay, Mr. V.b She grins and goes to lunch.

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    Turns out, she was full of shit. She knew all along it was a cyst.

    ~V

  • Why work hard if you can’t keep your job?

    It is not a good time to be a beginning teacher.

    Historically, the first people to get laid off are the part-time, substitute, and intern teachers. The term “intern” essentially means “contracted while we feel like it”. At any point the intern teacher can be served with a March 15 letter with the phrase “services no longer needed” buried into a lot of legal fluff.

    The term “March 15 letter” refers to the deadline given by California Education Code; it’s the last possible date to let a teacher now that they must begin looking for a job. Every year, around April, dozens of recently polished resumes and recommendations flood recruiting websites like edjoin.org in an effort for new teachers to find the next “intern” position. Eventually, the intern earns enough clout to earn “tenure” which guarantees them a spot for the next year.

    At least… that’s how it usually is.

    A school that doesn’t have a union is a rarity in Southern California. Here, the powerhouse Union negotiators have lawyers and press agents on speed dial, ready to pounce on administrators the moment they start to show shady behavior.

    Many charter schools are union-free, largely because of the odd curriculum and regular teacher turnover. It is not uncommon for some charter schools to see 30% turnover every year. The teachers at one such union-free school, unfortunately, have no advocate.

    So when several teachers are laid off in late July, they are, as the French say, le screwed.

    The reason the March 15 deadline exists is to allow veteran teachers a fighting chance to get the most desirable positions. Several veteran teachers (in a school without tenure) were recently canned largely, it is believed, due to the high cost of their salary.

    Why keep a $70,000 English teacher when you can get a fresh one for $45,000?

    With a never-ending supply of fresh, inexperienced teachers, this pattern can be continued indefinitely, constantly removing teachers from the posts when they begin to be excellent and raise student test scores.

    The school is saved from the budget crunch.

    Hurrah.

  • “I just gotta be real”

    I teach math at a charter school. This school is certainly different; there is an arts emphasis as well as business and college prep emphasis. I teach Geometry, Algebra I and a CaHSEE prep class so students can practice the math that appears on the California High School Exit Exam (CaHSEE). I want to share something that happened today.

    I met my CaHSEE class for the first time and there were only 5 of them. Given that these students are giving up an elective to take math, I figured that their attitudes would be less than stoked to meet me. After blowing through the syllabus, I decided that getting to know these students would be more beneficial than having them build a tower using a pencil, two pieces of paper and a piece of tape, like the other periods did. This is how the conversation went around the circle:

    Mr. V: Okay, I’d like to go around and say your name, the best part of your summer, and your favorite thing to do when you’re not studying for the CaHSEE.

    Triscia: I’m Triscia, the best part of my summer was going to Disneyland, and when I’m not studying for the CaHSEE, I like to…. I donno, go to the mall or watch TV.

    Chuck: I’m Chuck, the best part of my summer was… I donno, kicking it with friends, and when I’m not studying for the CaHSEE, I like to listen to music.

    Seth: I’m Seth and… my summer wasn’t really that good; I just got out of the juvenile detention center and… um… I met a girl, I proposed to her last night and she said yes. When I’m not studying for the CaHSEE, I love to play Basketball, it’s my favorite sport.

    Mr. V: Congratulations on your engagement!

    I managed to catch Seth after class. “Hey, Seth. That took a lot of guts, man; revealing to a group of people you don’t know that you just got out of jail. I’m impressed; that took a lot of balls.” His response gave me hope for teenagers across America.

    “Well, you know, I don’t wanna lie to everybody, I just… I just gotta be real, you know?”

    Great, Seth. Keep being real.