J's poem

 I thank you, my teacher, my friend, that helps me improve my skills.

As I write with this pencil in my hand, the time you give to me is important.

So I am very happy to learn to brighten my future. 

I know it is good for me and never foolish to reach my goals.

Success turns gold.

So my ears hear as you speak to learn.

If I don't understand what you are trying to teach me, I will raise my arm.

Ms. Mary, I am very happy to learn.

Thank you for the time that I earn.

This is J's poem.  His career goal is to be a writer.  The original draft was written as one long sentence in one solid paragraph with many misspellings.  He, too, was someone I was able to give individual time last week with lowered attendance.  He cannot do math at all and his writing is pretty undisciplined.  But he wants to do well so badly.  How can I give up on him?  

Recognizing someone's humanity

Last week I had a lesson in recognizing the humanity in all of us.  We have a new student who looks like a homeless person.  He is disheveled, scarred from burns, and very gruff.   When I have asked him to join in group work, he put me off in a very cross way, saying that he can't switch from one thing to another like that.  I decided to let him do his own thing--in a sense, giving up on him.  His skills are very low and he had been coming in late and leaving early.

Thursday we had just four students.  I spent a lot more time with each one and he responded to that attention.  Before he left he told me he had been thinking about his telling me he wouldn't do the work I suggested for the group and he apologized in his own way.  He began to tell me more about his life than I really wanted to know--his common law wife who was infertile, his wanting children, his best friend in jail, etc.  I felt ashamed of my own unwillingness to recognize the vulnerability in him.  After all the experience I have had in this job, I should know better.

Today he called the secretary of the adult ed department to leave a message for me that he needed to be excused for his absence.  Our own phones are not working properly and he knew I was not home to receive his call.  I appreciated his taking that responsibility.

You'll be here four more hours!

My supervisor came in for an hour on Tuesday morning as part of the Teaching and Learning Initiative he and I are participating in for our school corporation.  The idea is that we do a narrative on what we observe and then look for strengths and ideas for improvement.

He took three pages of notes in less than an hour.  I was amused by his noticing the traffic and the noisy pencil sharpener (like a machine gun, he said!) which I never notice at all.  The morning was particularly chaotic because there were 16 students, an all time high for the year.  Two young ladies had not been there for three weeks and then just showed up.  Three young men came in late and took their time to settle in.  Three students were very new to the class and not used to our routine.

My supervisor said it was a very good experience for him to see what it is like in a classroom again.  As he left, he thought to himself Mary has four more hours of this today and then two more days this week!  He was very positive in his comments and I was happy to have him see us at our craziest.

However, that kind of day is not ideal and I made some changes.  The three young men were told to show up on time or not come.  Two of the young men came on time, in fact early, to the afternoon class which was fine.  One did not show up.   I'll send him a note regretting his dropping out of class.  One of the young ladies will be told to take a "leave of absence" due to her erratic attendance.  She didn't come anyway the rest of the week. The rest of the week was much calmer and more productive.

But I am very tired at the end of each day and desperately need some down time at home before I recover.

Real life math

I belong to a numeracy list serv that has had a discussion of "word problems" and how often what teachers think are real life problems are condescending or irrelevant to students' lives.

This week N sent me an email in the evening with a sketch asking if he could call me.  I had supper first and then wrote Sure.  He didn't call, but we discussed the problem the next morning.  His supervisor had asked him to produce four of a certain object according to the sketch by the next morning. He said he panicked but was able to do so using CAD.

We were both pleasantly surprised when we used the Pythagorean theorem to solve the problem the next morning.  He said that our solution was exactly right and that was how he had made the object.

Excused absences?

"I am sorry I missed the week... st paddys day yeah.. umm went to jail for a week.. this week is spring break right."

This is the email I received from B on Tuesday in response to the one I sent asking if he was OK.  No, he wasn't OK, but when he did return to class on Wednesday, he seemed very nonchalant about a week in jail.  He said it wasn't the first time.  At least he did not smell like booze and he came back.

His inappropriate language is no longer a problem.  He said it was a habit when he first came in and he couldn't help it.  But he has demonstrated enough self-control to stop it.  I will need to let him know that I admire him for that.

The Joy of Texting

Yesterday I thought I should try to reach two young men who had not been in class all week.  I was tempted to let them go because I have not been impressed with their motivation and dedication to attendance.  But in the interest of giving them another chance and giving me another chance to measure gains, I texted them both.  Within minutes or less, I had responses that clarified their absences with assurances that they would be in class on Tuesday.

Texting is the way to communicate with many students these days.  I wonder if I would have gotten an answer by calling.  Email does not get much use although I have worked on getting everyone an email account for job search purposes if nothing else.

Next year?

I had been thinking of asking my supervisor to give me just one class next year, not two.  I am really tired at the end of two classes.  I have to think about and plan for so many students.  It takes me a long time to do so at my usual Friday morning kitchen table routine and to keep daily attendance records.   Earlier this year I was despairing about my ability to teach the younger students who gravitate to the afternoon class because noon is even too early to wake up.

But several of those students are no longer in the class, three of them because I "wrote them up."  The students who were really bonded to the previous teacher are also gone.  In many ways, things are better.  There are a few more grown-ups in the afternoon class and that helps.  Some are nearing their goal of a GED and that also helps.

I know I am doing what I do well.  Is it pride or a willingness to serve to say that I think it is my calling to keep doing what I am doing, at least for one more year?