I am a first-year teacher and I cannot begin to describe the challenges and obstacles I have faced. I have grown more as a person in the past four months than I can remember growing during the past 23 years of life. I have changed and become more like the woman and person I want to be in the future. I owe much of this change to a group of very special 7th graders. They are a daily struggle for me and their battles weigh heavily on my mind at all times. I carry them with me to my grad classes, to church and home to the people I love every night. These kids have become as much a part of me as myself. Their struggles are my struggles and I want nothing but the best for them. I pray each night that they can find some comfort and peace in the craziness of their existences.
To say that I experienced a culture-shock my first semester of teaching is an understatement. I was transformed by the culture-shock I dove into. Not only did I experience and new culture and world of challenges, I learned what it is like to be a parent. All of a sudden, I became a mother to 65 13-year-old kids. This shock had such a profound effect on me that I spent most of my first semester of teaching crying and being stressed about what I was trying to accomplish. I wanted my students to be successful and most days simply felt like a brief battle in a war in which I was not the victor. I felt like I had no chance of succeeding and that I would be another disappointment and failure to the students I had so quickly grown to love. As the semester progressed, however, I realized how quickly I fell in love with each of my students and knew that if I put enough time and effort into my teaching, we could all win this war. I never knew so many unique individuals could capture my thoughts and and preoccupy my spare time. I didn't mind that I was working non-stop and constantly thinking about them and how I could help them be successful. Come to think of it, those things have not changed and if anything, have become more potent in this second semester.
During the fall, I had one student in particular who challenged me. This dear sweet boy, who we shall call John, was special. Not only did he come with a hoard of home-life issues, he was obviously ADD/ADHD with no medication, could not see very well without glasses which he could not afford and desired to consume all of my time and energy. He was a major discipline problem. His discipline management was so severe that I had to escort him to the principal's office numerous time, write countless referrals on his behalf and break up several fights between he and other students. I was certain this child had to hate me. I had never and have yet to yell at or discipline a student as much as I had to yell at and discipline him. Finally, around Thanksgiving, this darling child was removed from my class after continued problems, failing my class two 6-weeks in a row and damaging many items in my classroom. Now, I don't want it to seem like I didn't try several approaches. I bribed this kid with behavior charts, reinforcement and rewards and many after-school hours of tutoring. He just would not allow himself to be successful in my class. He scored very well on his benchmark tests, and I had come up with the theory that he would do better in a shorter, more challenging class (pre-ap). After speaking (and crying) with the principal about this, the switch was made.
I thought I wouldn't see this student again except for the occasional pass in the hallway. I have seen this child almost every day since. He comes to me after school repeatedly for help with assignments (that he would not do in my class) and come to talk to me between passing periods on a daily basis. The Monday after the big switch was made, John came to me. He said, "Ms. Hodges, I think I'm going to like pre-ap. I like to be challenged." I looked at him and said, "Ok, then...let's make a challenge." I asked him if he would like a reward from me if he would pass his ELA class next 6-weeks (remember, he failed the previous two). He said he was up for the challenge and we decided on an acceptable prize. It had to be something wonderful and worth his effort...after all, he would have to work extremely hard for the next 5 weeks to pass English.
A few days ago, John comes to me during the class day. "Ms. Hodges, it's time to pay up," he says as he stands with his hands in the pockets of his red hooded-sweatshirt. "Pay up?" I ask, "For what?" (I had forgotten about the deal we had made in the chaos of Christmas break.) "Our deal, Ms. Hodges. You said if I passed ELA, you would give me a prize." He announced, his chest puffed out with pride. "Of course, John. Well, you know the rules...you have to show me your report card." I answered. The next moment will stay with me for a very long time as it is one of the proudest moments of my short teaching career thus far. He looked me dead in the eyes and said "Ms. Hodges, I got an 80 in pre-ap." I could hear the pride in his voice and felt so ecstatic for the one child I felt I had failed most the first semester. I hadn't failed him at all...he just needed a different class style. He was bored and needed help in ways that a shorter, more challenging class could offer.
And, don't think I've forgotten...I'm certain you are curious as to what prize could be so magnificent that it would inspire a young man to go from failing to above average in a significantly more challenging class within a 5-week period...a Little Debbie Starcrunch. :)
Reason #1 that I love my job: Student success.
-Tracey
