Dropping My Anger

"Whoever gets angry, if he is a wise man, his wisdom departs from him" 

- Jewish Gemara, Pesachim 66b

For many educators, teaching can be an extremely personal profession - if not one of the most, only after being a parent.  Our classrooms become our homes away from home (often times spending more hours at school than in our own homes) and our curriculum, classroom structures and routines are an extension of our educational beliefs, personalities, and identities. We tend to refer to our students as our kids.  In fact when my students ask me if I have any children, I usually respond, "Yes, I have 500+ children, but none right now are biological nor legally adopted."  So when we are asked, demanded, to change our practices or given constructive criticism, I can at least speak for myself and say, that I immediately get on the defensive; wanting, needing, to protect and defend what is ultimately at the core of my teaching, me.  

In the three years I taught in NYC I experienced three different schedules with three different models of teaching.  At the end of the 2011-2012 school year, I was more exhausted than ever and that fearful burned out feeling was creeping in. So it only made sense that when the school year ended and my principal informed me once again my curriculum, classroom structure, and supports were going to change for the future school year all I had the energy to do was crumble to the floor in the hallway right outside my room, tears of frustration, anger, and exhaustion streaming down my face, repeating over and over, “when will it just be easy? I just want it to be easy!”  But "easy" was not what I really wanted, it was consistency, it was autonomy and recognition that what my students and I were accomplishing in my classroom was good and not in need to drastic change!

I had spent countless hours over the course of the 2011-2012 school year collaborating with my math team, participating in weekly video debriefs of our teaching methods, and weekly coaching meetings with my Assistant Principal and mentor, Luke, (who never ceases to push my thinking and challenge me to constantly improve).  I spent half the year working on my questioning techniques and making sure my teacher moves were intentional, promoting the facilitation of the growth of independent critical thinkers, rather than empty receptacles awaiting to receive information. So the last thing I wanted to hear, was that I was going to be expected and required by administration to alter my teaching pedagogy completely, to one that was originally developed to promote literacy in an elementary setting and had really never been done in its true form in a Math high school class. I was confused, I was frustrated, and I was angry! It may have even been the first time in my life that I had even felt this sort of anger.

I spent the first few months of the 2012-2013 school year, walls up, in total defensive mode of my classroom and curriculum, fighting and arguing with my administration (or as we would call it at my school, "push back").  I was confident in my abilities as a teacher and didn't feel like I needed the rigid structure that the pedagogy requires. I felt all I had been working towards in the past 6 years was under attack and in response I refused to drink the Kool-aid. But I also refused to drop my anger, which ultimately hindered my growth and more importantly the growth and success of my students.

By the time Thanksgiving came around, I was tired of fighting, I was tired of being angry, and decided it was time to drop my anger and begin to just give in. I came to understand that my push back and hard-ass attitude was also my ego's way of asking for help. I would push and challenge in hopes someone would push and challenge me with more force, compelling me to think, to reflect, and to step outside my comfort area and grow.  So instead of pushing back (with little honest interest in hearing a response) I began to humble myself and ask for the help and support I felt I needed. What transpired over the course of the following 7 months thus became the most transformative months of my teaching career.  Ironically, once I dropped my anger I didn't have to just give in, I was able to admit that my personal philosophy behind education was similar to that of LC which then allowed me to engage with the pedagogy in more productive verse destructive ways.

Unlike other school years, I ended the 2012-2013 school year exhausted but energized. What I learned in my past year of teaching is how much more I as an educator, and my students, can gain if I am only willing to lower my wall of defenses, drop my anger, put my ego aside, humble myself within my of “expertise,” and honestly and openly engaging in a dialogue whose end goal is ultimately the same as mine: to create life long independent critical thinkers. Some might say that in the end, I drank the Kool-aid, and they would be right. I did. But not before I dropped my anger and in a clear minded intellectual professional manner was sure the Kool-aid was worth drinking and not spiked. Turns out, it was pretty tasty too!

After this experience, I can now only wonder what would happen within public education in this country if we all (teachers, administrators, politicians) dropped our anger? We each have too much wisdom to share and grow from to risk losing it to anger...

**This post is dedicated to my amazing family at UAGC. I could not, would not, have gone through this journey without them! I am endlessly grateful for my colleagues who never gave up on me and supported, challenged, and entertained my rants throughout the year. Thank you! Thank you for helping me become a more humbled and inspired educator, leader, and individual.

An Unexpected Emotion

I have been totally consumed all day by the Trayvon/Zimmerman verdict and even more so by the larger societal issues it, and all the incomprehensible deaths of former students, has highlighted. But among all the sadness, frustrations, there is also an overwhelming feeling of gratitude and honor to be an educator at this time. My students and colleagues have opened my eyes to a world of beauty and hope. They have added to my inspiration, my courage, my strength. I will miss being in the classroom with them next year dearly, but all the more so, excited and ready to engage in the difficult conversation of RACE and for the once in a life time opportunity to work with and learn from the Civil Rights Leader Bob Moses and his Algebra Project. This is not a time to dwell in what happened, but think about how we as a society, as individuals, are going to move forward, and take that step. Taking my step...

Looking Back

As I try to put my thoughts together for my next post, I thought I would share two teaching journal entries of my 1st and 2nd years of teaching.  Much has changed and has been learned since 2006 (I have changed as an educator and a person and I have learned a lot about myself and what I believe a "great" teacher and education should look like), but some things remain the same: I still cry, I still love and believe in my students, and I can not imagine doing anything else.

Even in 2013, my students from those beginning years 

remain inspirations and reminders to stay resilient no 

matter the challenge. Each and every one of them is 

worth it!

November 14, 2006

I’ve been teaching for about 11 weeks, and I thought I would give you a glimpse into a day in the life of Ms. Red.  For starters, it’s not fun.  For every good day there are 5 bad ones right behind it.  There are more tears than smiles.  I come home from work each day exhausted and drained, and I hate going to sleep at night (especially on Sundays) because I’m scared and nervous to have to go to work in the morning.  Everyone I talk to says that it gets easier – so as the weeks go on the routine and organization of being a teacher gets easier but the job seems to get harder.  The ironic part of it all, is that, I never really cared much about being a math teacher, I just wanted to inspire kids through coaching basketball, and as a first year teacher I haven’t touched a basketball in months.  I think about finding a new job about once a week, but the Chicago Bulls don’t have any positions open in their community relations department just yet, but I’ll keep trying.  In the mean time, I try to make due with where I am at. 

I am teaching in a Chicago neighborhood called North Lawndale, on the central west side of the city – near the United Center.  98% of the students that come to my school are coming from low income homes.  99% of the school is Black.  My students are faced with more than just passing my class, let alone high school.  They worry about getting Jumped after school, and even in school.  Sometimes its gang related and sometimes its just because one kid didn’t like the way another kid was looking at them. A lot of students are already involved in Gang activity and most will join a gang by the end of the year. Some go home to a household where they are in charge of 5 other brothers/sisters/cousins and household chores of cleaning and cooking because their mother or grandmother is out working her 2^nd job of the day.  I’m having difficulty just connecting and relating to my students.  And on top of that teaching math is extremely challenging because my students have no concept of respect for me or even themselves. 

The other night I attempted to make about 15 phone calls to parents (some pos. and some neg) to try and get them involved, yet half the numbers were disconnected.  I got in touch with a few but most parents/guardians are not so involved and some of the ones that are do so by trying to instill fear within their student, often by using force.  I’ve witnessed students get slapped in the face by a parent/guardian numerous times as a way of discipline – while other staff and parents also watched as though nothing wrong was going on.  For me I sat there, not knowing if I should look or not.  If I looked away, I felt I would then be denying the fact that something wrong was taking place, but if I looked, I would just become another passive bystander.  Then last week I was chewed out by a mother (who was mentally unstable) accusing me of Character Analyzing her child for calling him a class-clown on a write up as well as making up the fact that her son had also cursed me out in class.  It is these types of issues I am asked to deal with each and every day – along with trying to convince my students that math is fun!

So you might be asking yourself, why the hell am I still working here…..  I ask myself that same question almost everyday around 6^th period.  And this is what I usually come up with:

To think, how little I knew about teaching back then....

My 8th period Algebra class Y1.  These students taught 

me more than I/they could ever have imagined. I am 

forever grateful to have had the privilege to have been 

their teacher! 

I used to be very idealistic, and thought I could EASILY walk into a school and change the life of my students for the better.   I once remember telling a friend that if I even just affect one student’s life, for even just a minute, it would all be worth it. Now they disagreed – they argued what’s the point of doing something when you know the possibility of success is so low its basically nonexistent.  I think about what they said all the time these days wondering if what I am doing really is worth it.  I haven’t found an answer to that question, but I do know that when I talk about quitting teaching, my mom constantly suggests that before I quit teaching I should maybe try working at a better school.  My response to her every time is no.  If I teach, it will be at Manley (As long as I don’t get fired).  Yet I can never tell my mom why – and I’m not so sure I know why.  It’s kind of like that gut feeling that just tells you yes or no.  And mine tells me yes….well at least until I open up my own basketball after school youth center/safe heaven, preferably funded by one of the professional basketball teams (depending on where I am living at the time).  But until that day – I’m going to try and keep trucking.

...and one year later...

November 18, 2007

I feel like I have dropped off the face of the planet.  It’s amazing how fast this school year is flying by.  I have been meaning to sit down and begin the tale of year 2 for months now, but it seem time has escaped me.  As I write this now with one quarter down and three to go I can say a lot has changed since those ill feelings I was having over 3 months ago.  In August I wrote in my Journal:

“The first day of school is approaching fast and those nauseous and anxiety filled feelings are beginning to creep in.  My dreams have already been taken over by first day of school nightmares: 30 plus students running around, out of uniform, not listening to a word I say, with nothing to teach.  And to top it all off, I’m being observed by administration.  So to say the least, I’m ready for school to start – if only to get those precious hours of sleep back. However, I know I’m in for another rollercoaster of a year, and unfortunately I can’t say I feel that much more comfortable then I did last year.”

Now in November with the first day long behind me, I am happy to report I sleep soundly (when I find time to sleep) and I am far more comfortable this year then I ever was last year.  And most importantly, the tears are few and far between, and I can honestly say that I LOVE my job.  Year two is definitely easier than year one, however, it is still far from easy. 

In life we tend not to see our accomplishments when we are in the midst of them, however, it is only afterwards, when we are able to take a step back, that we are able to see all that we have achieved.  At the end of last school year, I felt accomplished; I mean, I made it through the year in one piece, and ready to try again only after a well needed summer vacation.  Yet, I wasn’t sure if I felt accomplished in terms of my students.  I wondered if they had learned, not just about math but about life.  Was I able to get through to some of my students that there is more out there then they see?  Was I able to make a difference in their lives?  You always here of these teacher that single handedly changed students lives, you watch their stories on TV and in the Movies, and I can name a few that changed mine.  I want to help change lives, I want to be that teacher to some!  And after year one, I wasn’t so sure if I had accomplished that or if I am meant to accomplish that….

But then they start to trickle in – within the first few weeks of school, my students from last year started to come back just to say hello.   Now that I am not their teacher I have become approachable – and I begin to realize, I was able to do what I had hoped to do.  It sounds so controlling – that want to have this power over my students – but on the contrary I want to do my job correctly.  To me a teacher is more than an individual who stands at the front of a classroom teaching you the laws of physics or the ways of writing, but is someone who also a role model, someone who helps ignite a passion

A student of mine came to me the other week.  She is now a sophomore.  She looked at me and told me she wanted to tell me something but didn’t want me to be disappointed in her.  I told her she couldn’t disappoint me and asked her what was going on.  She then handed me sonogram pictures, she couldn’t even tell me, all she could do was show me the pictures, she was 3 months pregnant.  I faked a smile and told her she would have to do far worse to disappoint me.  We then continued to talk about her plans for having and caring for the baby as well as staying in school.  I didn’t lie to her, I wasn’t disappointed, I was just sad.  As she left my room, I just sat unable to move or speak. 

Working late hours is what I do.  I realize more and more my job does not end at 3pm when the bell rings, in fact if I let it, it would never end.  A friend from work and I call it the curse of being a teacher who cares.

Honoring Mr. Hood: Literacy & Unison Reading's Place in a Math Classroom

Mr. Robert Hood (1958-2004)

My first recollection of enjoying a book was in my 11^th grade AP English class with Mr. Hood (z’’l), whom I would consider the best English teacher to ever address students. Mr. Hood not only believed in me as a reader and writer (I will venture to say most teachers believe in their students) but Mr. Hood made me believe that I was a reader, a writer – even though it would be a few years until I would read a novel cover to cover and over a decade before I would openly and willingly allow others to read my writing.  Mr. Hood, had the ability to make The Scarlet Letter seem relevant to our lives, The Sound and Fury comprehendible, and Their Eyes Were Watching God thought provoking.  He held me to standards and expectations other teachers had not, highlighting my strengths while refusing to allow me to make excuses about and ignore my challenges. Mr. Hood’s class weakened my resistance and aversion to reading and writing through his ability to build my literary understanding and confidence.  He provided me a new lens to view and interact with the world around me.

As a math teacher, I am constantly confronted with a classroom of students adverse and resistant to engaging with content.  It is my education goal to create a learning environment that breaks those barriers and expose the inner mathematician. In hindsight, it only seems appropriate that the tool that has begun to help me cultivate such a classroom has been by way of literacy through a teaching pedagogy known as Learning Cultures (LC) and format called Cooperative Unison Reading^® (UR).

(In future posts, I hope to share more about my turbulent but ultimately affirming journey with LC, but for the purpose of this post, I will focus on UR and literacy’s place in a math classroom.)

At both Manley Career Academy and UAGC the English departments have joked around that I was/am a honorary member of their departments; always inquiring and trying to incorporate the literacy skills and strategies into my classes. I hold the expectation that my students use what they learn in English class as a way to improve their own understanding and communication of mathematical concepts.  It is not enough for me that my students can regurgitate the information I might demonstrate on the board, but that they must, as my dad says, own the knowledge.  I believe this ownership of knowledge only exists through ones active engagement with the material.  My challenge, was in knowing how to successfully facilitate that engagement and build student literacy in math. I soon realized Unison Reading was a vehicle in which my students and I could begin.  

UR did not allow my students to be passive learners of the information they were presented with. It provided my students with purpose and challenged them to actively engage with the text or problem, causing them to breach for new and deeper understandings. 

For example, when students attempted to read what seemed to be a simple expression, 5(x+4), it only lead to a deeper discussion of order of operations. Of the 5 students in the group, there were 3 interpretations of how to read the expression:

Interpretation #1: “5 times x plus 4”

Interpretation #2: “5 parenthesis x plus 4”

Interpretation #2: “5 times the quantity of x plus 4”

Before continuing on the group needed to come to a unanimous consensus of how to read the expression with the most accuracy.  The group was forced to engage in a discussion about the different implications of each of the three phrases. They involved themselves in a discussion about why one was more accurate than the other, which eventually provided them with a greater understanding and importance of order of operations.  In my 6 previous years of teaching this type of conversation never happened, but not because I didn’t want it to, I just didn’t have a platform in which to create the space for it to occur.

Though I still have much to learn and improve upon, for the first time in my teaching career, my students were consistently active and organically engaged in the learning and understanding of math. My classroom no longer was a classroom of doing, rather a classroom of students striving to understand. I contribute this to the structures of UR and the overall increase in math literacy. This year, I was no longer the only math “teacher” in the room, as all my students became mathematicians.  There no longer can be excuses for the lack of math literacy and ability among students. It is time, in our country, that we begin to see literacy in math the same way we view English literacy. Essential. Non-negotiable.