Graduate

In all the pain, fear, and frustration I've been consumed with this past week, to stop the crying, I forced myself to focus on some light in the darkness. There is more to be said, of Trevon and students like him, but took my big bro’s advice of giving myself 30min to write and publish.
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“Ms. Sara you didn’t hate us, you just hated how much you loved us” - Trevon Stanford, HS graduate!
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You’d enter class like a tornado

You’d sit in class like…correction,

You’d roam class like a nomad

You’d participate in class like an entertainer

And you’d exit class begging for one more chance, knowing very well I’d cave.

You’d leave me frustrated – not with you but with me. 

You’d leave me exhausted

You’d leave me ready to quit

But ultimately, you’d leave me inspired…

Because sometimes you’d slip

Sometimes those sparks of genius would flicker

Sometimes the personas of leadership would grab hold

Sometimes your walls of protection would crack

And then sometimes, your vulnerability to feel successful would seep out

But they didn’t see you how we saw you

They saw you as a square peg not fitting into their round hole

They saw you as a problem not to be fixed but forgotten

They saw you as a list of steps to show yourself out.

Then you chose to leave, despite our plea

You said, I need to go where no one knows me

You said, don’t worry I got this

You said, I promise, just wait and see

A year went by and you pushed on

Another two years went by and you kept on pushing

Today your sparks of genius cannot be extinguished

Today your personas of leadership are your truth

Today you know success, steadfast on the future 

Today you graduated

And today, like you did back then, you leave me – and all of us who know you – INSPIRED.

Your energy is my energy. My energy is your energy.

It’s 12:40pm, the high pitch whistles of security reverberate through the halls as the student body clears out of the courtyard from lunch, up the stairwells, and into their 8^th period classes. Unlike most days this past year, I was not ready for the 30+ students about to enter our classroom.  I was not standing at the door with a smile eagerly awaiting to greet them. Instead, I had placed a stool in the doorway to keep the door open (eventually asking a student to hold the door open) while I stood at my desk, frantically finishing whatever I was in the middle of.  As per usual though, a slide with the class’ opening activity (or “bell ringer” as my school refers to it), was projected onto my not-so-smart-anymore smart board. However, despite the normalcy of the classroom’s learning expectations and routines, the majority of the students dawdled around the room either engrossed in the latest social media post, thoroughly engaged in their hallway conversation/gossip, or a combination of both.  A handful of students bombarded me at my desk, as I barked orders for the class to settle down, open their notebooks, and begin their bell ringer.  In the midst of the chaos, I noticed the sassiness of a student and felt her aggravated energy.  At the uttering of an under the breath comment followed by laying her head down on the table – a clear sign of rebellion and thus disengagement – still from my desk, I called her name and requested a conversation.  When she arrived at my desk, now cleared of all students except her, I innocently and sincerely asked “What’s going on? I can tell something seems to be up.” Boldface she responded “It’s you. It’s your energy! Normally you are at the door greeting us with a smile and excitement to learn, but today you’re here, at your desk, yelling at us to settle down.”

She stopped me in my tracks.  Her response was the last thing I had anticipated her to say, knowing she had recently experienced some issues with other students trying to bait her into unwanted drama.  But her response was exactly what I needed to hear. It gave me pause. I took a deep breath in and out, not out of infuriation with her, but to focus on and calm the frantic energy within; she was right.  I then responded to her, “you’re right. But look around the room and notice what’s going on, here’s how you can help me…” I proceeded to ask for her assistance in encouraging her classmates to settle into the classroom routines and expectations, readying themselves to engage in learning.  And so, she did. With one more deep breath in and out, I followed behind greeting each grouping of students with a smile and a new sense of energy.

None of us is as strong as all of us!

As I have mentioned in previous posts, a year ago I moved back home to Miami to pursue a masters degree in Urban Education. Through my program, I have had the opportunity and honor to learn from and with Civil Rights Legend, Dr. Bob Moses.

In connection to my graduate work, I recently accepted a position as The Algebra Project (AP) teacher for a cohort of incoming 9th grade students at Miami Northwestern Senior High School. AP is a nonprofit organization and curriculum, founded by Dr. Moses, aimed to improve the math skills of our country's most disenfranchised students with under-performing math scores. The goal of AP is to prepare these students for college level math for college credit at the time of graduation, and provide them the foundation for future careers in science and technology. The program also incorporates civics education, as a way to help students take charge of their lives and improve their community.

This summer I had the privilege to begin to work with 25 of my students who will be apart of The Algebra Project in the fall. Although we started out as strangers, in 3 short weeks, we came together as a cohort (or "squad" as my students now call themselves) embarking on a journey exploring the language of mathematics through shared experiences and the every day language we speak. The summer was a success; not just for my students but for me me as well, experiencing and gaining the awareness of what it means that "it takes a village." The accomplishments of this summer could not and were not achieved alone; rather rested of the collaboration, help and support of a village: Dr. Moses and another AP coach, FIU grad students, professors & The Education Effect, a group of educators from Ireland, members of a group called The Dream Defenders, and parent & community organizer and her amazing ability to help mobilize and involve the parents and community members of my students.

I would like to invite you to join the village. Please consider supporting our efforts through a donation to our DonorsChoose Project. 

http://www.donorschoose.org/project/help-us-create-our-dream-algebra-project/1261540?utm_source=dc&utm_medium=project&utm_campaign=copyURL&rf=copyURL-siteshare-2014-08-project-teacher_365796

Join the other 39+ donors and help us fulfill our project goal before the school year starts on August 18th. There is no donation too small!

Please also check out these links to learn more about The Algebra Project and see pictures from our summer institute:

• FIU news: http://news.fiu.edu/2014/08/fiu-algebra-project-train-next-generation-of-stem-grads-teachers/79940

• NPR: https://stateimpact.npr.org/florida/2014/07/29/how-the-algebra-project-helps-math-make-sense/

• Pictures: https://www.flickr.com/photos/fiu/sets/72157645721590562

Thank you in advance for any and all your support.  

"None of us is as strong as all of us!"

Decisions In Life

As I begin to close out my year "sabbatical" from the classroom, one thing has become evident: my students are the constant and driving force behind my love, desire, and inspiration to continue teaching and be a life long learner. 

In addition to this blog being a place for me to share my learning and growth, I hoped it to be a platform in which my students (past, present, and future) could also share their thoughts, their insight, and their light.  

I am thus honored to share with you the first contribution by a student, the inspirational voice of Marcos Tellez (UAGC c/o 2015).  Thank you, Marcos. 

PUSH-ing Our Practices

Long before PUSH by Sapphire became the award winning film, Precious, it made my list of favorite and most influential reads as an educator. (So much so, that to this day, I have yet to see the movie).  At the start of each school year, and even sometimes during, I find myself pulling the book back off the shelf to reread, either in its entirety or just in excerpts. With each year of growth, I am drawn and connect to different aspects of the story.  Despite its fiction, PUSH drew upon Sapphire's own experience as a remedial reading teacher in Harlem, and the students she met, whom she described as being "locked-out."  I believe, that the relationship in which Sapphire depicts between Ms. Rain and Precious (and her students in general) can act as a springboard to further a teacher's insight and reflection of his or her own teaching practices and relationships with students.  

Recently I reread an excerpt which Precious depicts her first day in Ms. Rain’s class:

Mz. Rain look pretty bent out of shape then melt, say, "We got more new people than old people today, so let's just go back to day one and git to know each other and figure out what we gonna do here together." I look at her weird. Am' she spozed to know what we gonna do. How we gonna figure anything out. Weze ignerent. We here to learn, leas' I am. God I hope this don't be another ... another ... I don't know—another like before, yeah another like the years before. 

"Let's try a circle," teacher say. Damn I just did sit myself down in front row and now we getting in a circle.

"We don't need all those chairs," teacher say waving at Jo Ann who dragging chairs from second row. "Just pull out five or six, however many of us it is, and put 'em in a little circle and then we'll put 'em back in rows after we finish introducing ourselves." She sit herself in one of he chairs and we all do the same (I mean she the teacher 'n all).

"OK," she say, "let's get to know each other a little bit uummm, let's see, how about your name, where you were born, your favorite color, and something you do good and why you're here." (pp. 41-42)

Throughout the book, Sapphire’s portrayal of Ms. Rain is hopeful, optimistic, encouraged, but also grounded.  From the excerpt above we can learn, essential to the strength and success of Ms. Rain’s class and education, is the importance of building a community with established communal goals.  Ms. Rain’s decision to start from "day one" suggests the significance of recognizing the individuality and uniqueness each class poses. Despite the commonalities, each group of students possesses its own strengths, challenges, needs and desires. Each new individual adds a new dimension to a group, altering the current dynamic, and thus must be valued and considered.  As educators, we cannot assume the education of all students who come from certain socio economic class or cultural backgrounds is the same. Furthermore, as presented in this excerpt it is important for not just the educator alone to be aware of the commonalities and differences that exist, but for all members of the community to be mindful of them. 

In my experience, many teachers understand the importance of "getting to know" their students.  It is commonly in the form of a short personal questionnaire or essay assigned during the beginning weeks of a school year or course.  Usually though, the teacher is the only member of the community who then is exposed to the results. Although, the teacher may now have a better understanding of his or her students, the result of the assignment does not help in building a greater sense of community in the class. Sapphire, through Ms. Rain, teaches us to PUSH our "getting to know you" activities further as a tool to build stronger more cohesive and supportive communities. 

The above excerpt also provides us as educators, another, subtle but invaluable and transformative lesson, through the simplicity of Ms. Rain's physical setup and placement within the classroom.  Her request for the students to arrange the chairs in a circle, in which Ms. Rain also sits within, establishes a communal classroom tone; one where students maintain an equal voice and importance, in the development and collaboration of their individual and collective learning process.  Educators (myself included) talk a good game, but sometimes fault on walking the walk.  Often times, unintentionally, our actions do not always match up with what we preach. And at the risk of being cliche, our actions speak louder than our words. Everything we do as educators sends a particular message to our students, whether it is intended or not. Thus, we must PUSH ourselves to be vigilant in constantly reflecting on our teacher moves, evaluating whether our actions and words are projecting the same message.  Our students will forget our words, but will always remember our actions.  

Cast down your bucket

I have officially finished my first semester of grad school and I couldn't be happier with my decision to temporarily leave the classroom. For me, attending grad school was not an exit strategy to leave the classroom; rather an excuse to recharge, find a sustainable work-life balance, and, possibly most importantly, redefine and discover myself outside of my students in order to be a better educator in return.  This year, has not been without its own challenges, but has thus far lived up to the expectations: a rejuvenating, affirming, proliferating, and humbling experience.  More than ever, returning and remaining a classroom teacher is the ultimate professional goal. (Apologies to all those who have bet on me moving "up" into an administer role.)  

This semester, has forced me to check my ego at the door, exposing the gaps in my understanding of my students and reenforcing that as an educator, especially as a white female within a community outside my own, my learning and growth will never be over.  One of the main lessons I have gained has been the importance for educators to honestly be aware of who their students are.  It sounds simplistic and obvious; a teacher’s job description is to help facilitate learning of their students, so clearly they should know whom it is they are helping.  However, from my own experience, we tend to group our students together and make decisions based on the generalizations (often clouded by our own egos and perceptions) verses truly gaining a better awareness of who are students are and their needs both as students and individuals. 

As an example, when I moved from Chicago, a predominantly African American community, to NYC, a predominantly Latino community, I naively thought I would have little trouble adjusting.  I remember thinking I could use the same lessons, classroom structures and management styles which I employed in Chicago in NYC solely on basis that both schools were servicing, students who were from lower socio-economic minority communities.  How very wrong I was.  Despite the commonalities, my students in NYC had their own unique identities, strengths, and challenges defined by their individual experiences and histories.

Many of the readings and conversations I engaged within this semester highlighted the importance of continuing to broaden my understanding and perception of my students as members of a learning community as well a larger society.  I was encouraged to reflect on relationships with students of years past deconstructing our interactions based on who they were vs. who they appeared and I perceived them to be. In doing so, I have also begun to discover and uncover more about my own identity and insecurities as they relate to the realities of my students, despite the discomfort. 

In the book Radical Equations, Bob Moses, draws inspirations from Ella Baker, who in facilitating the organization of SNCC, taught organizers to “cast down your bucket where you are." Ella Baker urged organizers to become part of the community, learn from it, and become aware of its strengths, resources, concerns, and ways of doing business.  Bob Moses further explains, that the organizer does not have the complete answer in advance. Instead, the organizer wants to construct solutions with the community, understanding that the communities everyday concerns can be transformed into broader questions of general importance.  Most importantly the form of these questions and the actions that follow are not always known in advance.  The organizer helps the community members air their opinions, question one another, and then build consensus.  He goes on to note that this process is a long journey, one with ups and downs and push and pulls - equating the process to a young child who is learning how to walk.  This understanding of an organizer, encompasses my current journey as an educator.  

Since schools never exist outside of the communities in which they service, nor the teachers they employ, it seems natural to view the development of educators, schools and pedagogies similar to that of small or large community movements.  No matter the community, an educator that separates themselves from the rest of the community, blinded by their own ideal visions and research, risks neglecting to honestly cast down their bucket to see where they are in order to thus move forward.  Sometimes I wish there was a do-over button; go back, especially to those first years in Chicago. Instead, as I move forward, I will strive to cast down my bucket, see my students, in hopes to move forward together, as allies.