Week 3: The vicissitudes of the classroom

The Lows

I’ve noticed that when I’m in front of my class, two things are at the forefront of my attention: the need to cover specific content, and the need to keep my students engaged. I engage in friendly banter with my kids, make jokes and references to popular media, current events, and anything I think will keep students hooked into what we’re doing. I know very little about the personal lives of the 120 or so students who pass in and out of my room, but as long as they’re either smiling and participating, or at least following along in a passive sort of way, I assume we’re all on the same page and things are good.

My happy teacher bubble was burst early this week when I learned that one of our students suffered a personal tragedy in the very recent past. I often wondered why this particular student, in addition to one other, was so quiet among a class of intelligent, personable honors students, and was almost to the point of calling them both by name to get them to participate. (We track participation in class every day, and these two students don’t have a single check mark by their names). Then out of the blue, my cooperating teacher made the connection because of the student’s last name: an immediate family member had recently died. Suddenly I found myself revisiting everything I’d said in class so far — my off-the-cuff remarks about everyday occurrences such as squabbling with siblings and clashing with parents, the way I pressed the class to go deeper into Anne Bradstreet’s feeling of grief and loss in her poem “Some Verses on the Burning of our House,” and even more inconsequential interactions. I didn’t have a clue that someone in the room had suffered such a recent and deep loss. I can’t fathom what it’s like to lose someone so close, and yet to have to go on with life, to have to manage all that high school entails, from homework to extracurriculars to social life to college applications and SATs. And yet we keep teaching every day, expecting each person to stay in lockstep and do the work. I haven’t completely altered the way I view this student, but I think my willingness to understand should any bad days come has greatly increased. And I’m a bit haunted by the fact that there are probably dozens of other serious situations among my students that I’ve not aware of. The wounds are too big and too many for any one person to fix, but at the least I hope that I am one approachable, friendly face that appears in the blur of each day’s activities.

… and thank heaven for the Highs

We finished reading The Crucible this week, and it simply rocked. Even in the quiet class, the students seemed to experience the frustration and helplessness in the face of blatant injustice that Miller managed to infuse in every scene of the play. It hurt so good. One day this week I was particularly happy with how well 4th hour seemed to respond to me. I think we’ve developed good rapport. I’m still working on 6th hour, but I’m learning how to put on a boisterous, confident front for them, and they do seem to become a bit more lively when I’m chatty and extra-humorous. I feel like a bit of a fraud when I do that, but perhaps teaching sometimes calls for a bit of acting at times. Plus, a silent classroom of staring, almost-drooling faces is to be avoided at all costs … it’s simply a nightmare!

"I want to be a real boy!"

One last note: This week we had Back-to-School night, and it was fun to meet so many parents. The best moment was when a father came up to me (yes, me!) and said, “My daughter talks about you.” I have no idea what she says about me, but with those five words I felt myself turning from a see-through, dotted cut-out version of a teacher into the real deal: someone knows I exist at the front of the classroom! And, more students have been calling me by name, yet more acknowledgments of my existence. And, two of my students who are on student council asked me to chaperone the homecoming dance!  I’m real! Things are looking good.

Next week: Two days of teaching Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” to the freshmen, an official observation by my supervisor, three days of watching the film version of The Crucible, working on thesis statements, and maybe a flu shot.