Reality Check

another late night, another early morning that will come too quickly. I try to be in bed by 9:30 on weeknights, but Thursdays are especially brutal. We have our lesson plans due for the next week on Fridays, so Thurdsay nights I’m usually planning 5 lessons for the following week as well as planning/finishing my lesson for tomorrow and creating the weekly quiz. Not to mention this week, I had to make 2 batches of muffins for the winners of our newest management technique disguised as a competition: Row Race 2010. In each of my 4 classes, the students try to earn points for their row by bringing their homework (this is a bigger battle than you would imagine), sitting quietly, taking notes, etc. This is our first full week of the competiton and so far it has worked incredibly well in my first three periods. All I have to do is give Row 3 10 points for sitting quietly, and Rows 1, 2, 4, 5, and 6 are usually quick to follow. It’s worth the 67 cents per box of muffins and the $4 Capri Suns. However, it’s not working quite as I would hope in my 8^th period.

I’m still having a rough time with that last period. I wrote 6 people up in 3 days, sent a student to another teacher’s room, and came the closest I’ve come so far to tears in school when a fight almost broke out in my classroom. The whole class has been on silent lunch, and the resource officer and the drop out prevention officer came by to observe my classroom. They had incredibly nice and encouraging things to say, and claimed the kids were very engaged in the lesson that they observed. That also happened to be the lesson right after their silent lunch (given to them by their homeroom teacher, not me) and they were for some reason really well behaved. That lasted all of one day. We’re back to normal, or normal for them: yelling, talking, getting up randomly from their seats. This class is truly going to challenge me.

Yesterday one of my roommates and I went to the Enfield football game. We had to drive out to the local high school, about 15 minutes away in the middle of nowhere. On the way, we drove through some of the neighborhoods that our kids may live in, and it was definitely a reality check. We hadn’t yet seen anything in Enfield besides a few trailers, a run down gas station, and our beautiful new school. (plus, the cotton is blooming—it is an incredible sight!). To see the conditions of the neighborhoods was devastating and depressing. And to think that some of our kids could live there makes it even worse. You don’t think of those things when your kids all walk in wearing their uniforms and their mischievous smiles. You don’t see them as living in poverty; they all look the same at school (clearly that is the point behind uniforms). But seeing those houses made it seem more real. The biggest challenge is not letting that affect the high expectations that you hold these kids to. They have much more to overcome than your average Glen Allen kid, but if we lower the bar simply because of their circumstances, we only hurt them even more.

Back to the game. I had so much fun I can’t even explain. It was so great to see our boys in their element, doing what they really love. They looked so proud to be wearing their uniforms, and it was cool to see them outside of school. My heart melted when Darrius, a teeny, narcoleptic and unmotivated boy from my homeroom, flashed me the widest grin and yelled, “Hey Miss H!” when he saw me in the stands. And to see D’Andre score a touchdown, Rayquan and Dashuntae on the sidelines together, and Diane’ give me a big wave—I was in heaven. I do love these kids, no matter how crazy they drive me. Well, most of them, at least.

Going home this weekend to recharge, be surrounded by friends, and remember what life is like outside of teaching and the rural lifestyle. I can’t wait to go to Target, have time with my friends, and eat at Panera. And I may even be a little bit excited to go see a soccer game at Randolph-Macon. I never thought I’d say that….