I'm Coming Up, so You'd Better Get This Party Started

I have arrived.

Today, while flipping burgers and slicing tri-tip at the football game, one of the juniors asked me to help out with a super-secret Homecoming event. It goes without saying that only the cool, fun teachers get asked to do Homecoming stuff. I guess this means I am now officially cool and fun. It doesn't hurt that I've been far more visible this year: I've already chaperoned one dance and cooked food at both home football games. And of course, I know more students this year than I did last. That just comes with time.

And it is official, I'll be the advisor for Mock Trial.

It's not like any of this stuff guarantees that I'll make tenure, but it can't hurt. I am a team player and I am giving back to the school in many ways. I am visible and friendly. And, it also helps classroom management (my Achilles' heel) because students see you outside of the classroom as well as in; you become a whole person, not just a teaching machine.

I Object!

I might be a total idiot, swamped as I am with everything else, but I just volunteered to be the supervisor for my school's Mock Trial team. I admit that I waited a few hours before responding, just in case anyone else was really interested. The thing is, I'm really interested in doing it. I was in Mock Trial in high school for two years. It was awesome. Of course, I was with my good friends and that didn't hurt, but I had a great time playing lawyer. I almost responsed to the email immediately, but the stack of crap I haven't taken care of is haunting me.

I'll let you know if I'm polishing off my blue blazer for court.

Riddle Me This

How do I tell my student that his "California" t-shirt is against the dress code because it's been taken over by gangs and isn't safe when he's already sitting in a wheelchair because he was shot while walking home from his friend's house a couple of summers ago? He wasn't in a gang. He wasn't wear gang colors; he was just walking home. Somehow, my whole "keeping you safe" argument just felt hollow.

Of course, the other reason why you can't wear gang clothes on campus is so students don't bully others. Gang affilitation is a silent, but strong, signal that kids send to those around them: Mess with me and you'll have the whole weight of my peeps on you.

So, I guess I just answered my question. I just need to rethink my explanation of why gang-wear is not allowed. Not only does it keep some kids safe, it keeps others from bullying the rest.

A Life Preserver, Please

I am drowning, mostly in paperwork. In many ways, this year is better than last year. I have a much better relationship with many more of my students than I did last year. Some of my Hellstudents from last year are really coming around, which is refreshing. Some of them are still struggling with completing work, but I don't feel like killing them and they are far more willing to talk to me.

But, I have an ever-increasing stack of papers to grade. I have administrative referral crap to deal with--tardies and such. Phone calls to make. An evaluation guide to write. IEP forms to Wade through. Lessons to plan--really trying to focus on our focus standards. I'm swamped. I have a wedding to plan, a wife to murder, and Guilder to blame for it.

Hence, my recent Internet silence.

A few nice things I've been meaning to mention. I've discovered that there are some seats that get more attention than others because gheh are easier to get to. It's also why I change my students seats. Anyway, one of my boys in a Hot Seat confided in me, out of the blue, that he was having problems in another class. I was able to help him trouble shoot and come up with a solution. Another student shared her life troubles (after shutting down for most if the class). I got to practice my active listening. Another one (who's told me that he really hates school) is asking me questions and laughing with me about things on life. Another one told me about his girlfriend troubles. Others are just willing to talk to me like a person, and not just a teacher.

This is why I teach. Now, if I could only get out of the sea of paper. At least I'll finally have clean clothes for tomorrow.

By the Power of Greyskull

I meant to tell you about this when it happened.

I went to a Southern Culture on the Skids show two weekends ago. Shells flew out just to go to the show (and surf and visit). She found them because she fell in love with the opener, Los Straightjackets. They were pretty fun: they're a surf band in Mexican wrestler masks. Yeah.

Anyway, the largely aging-hippie crowd was channeling its inner redneck for the SCOTS show. We saw one fight almost break out 10 feet ahead in the crowd, but they got calmed down. Everyone settled down to some more ironic Southern music.

And then another fight started to break out -- 2 feet in front of me. I don't know what Guy 1 did to Guy 2, but Guy 2 was not about to take it. There was some chest-baring and some posturing, but Girlfriend 1 (there was no Girlfriend 2) calmed down Guy 1, and they turned back around to watch the show. So Guy 2 shoved Guy 1; he was itching for a fight. Guy 1 turned back around, more posturing, more talking-down-from-the-ledge by Girlfriend, and Couple 1 exits stage right. Crisis averted.

And then I notice something squirrelly from Guy 2. I see that he has a beer bottle in his right hand, and he shifts his grip on it ever so slightly. (He's holding it at his side -- not like he's going to drink from it.) He then shifts his weight forward and is looking intently at Guy 1. He is about ready to bash Guy 1 over the head with the beer bottle.

I don't think about it. It just happened to me. I said in my very best teacher voice, "Hey! Hey!" Guy 2 looked at me. I looked back at him with my very best teacher look that says, "No, you are not being an jackass in my classroom". And you know what? It worked.

I stopped staring at him once he backed down. He looked at me a couple more times. I didn't get in a staring contest -- I didn't want him to come at me with a beer bottle, but my body language remained tall and stable. I didn't back away or turn away; I stood my ground. After a couple of minutes, he wandered off to the bar. No fight. I stopped a bar brawl with my voice and my glare.

By the power of Greyskull... I HAVE THE POWER!

Quakers' Meeting Has Begun

My students were moved by literature (specifically imagery), today. As in, when they were moved to share, they shared; otherwise, they were quiet. It was pretty special, even if they didn't see the religious implications of the activity.

We had a Silent Converation. I tried it first last year with a squirrely bunch, and I was happily surprised with its success, so I'm moving it up in the year this year. Instead of me calling on students and writing their comments on the board, I set up some sort of organizer on the board, and then invite them to walk to the front and write their thoughts silently. This isn't my special lesson, people have been doing this for years.

I think I was first exposed to it during a Critical Friends Group-esque session with my cohort back in my grad school days. (Or at least, it was the first time I paid any attention to it.) Critical Friends is a collection of protocols that are designed to get adults collaborating. I tried to find out more information on it back then with an interest in getting training, but it's a bit proprietary and info was (is) scarce. I do think that it is based on a lot of Quaker teachings. Perhaps it came out of one of the Portland Universities, or maybe I'm making that up. I make up a lot of stuff on this blog; read at your own risk. I did see some Web pages that hinted that a number of Portland-area public schools had established Critical Friends Groups as a way to implement change and boost teacher morale.

So, it isn't all that surprising that while using this protocol, I felt like I was in a Quaker meeting. I introduced the activity, and then I stepped aside. (I generally kick it at the back of the room.) One or two students get up and write, then sit. They look at each other, they look at their papers (I've prefaced this with a freewrite and a pair/share -- I'm not throwing them to the wolves here). They giggle or smirk. They look aside. And then someone gets up to write. Then someone else. A pause. Someone writes. Pause. Pause. Write. The light didn't shine in the window, illuminating their coming-to-the-god-of-imagery moment, but some of them were moved to share their thoughts without my explicit prodding. It's rewarding to stand in the back and quietly watch students get up the nerve to walk to the front and share.

Now, I haven't ever been to a Quaker meeting, but I have seen them on TV (thank you Six Feet Under. I also played the Quaker Meeting game as a child ("No more laughing, no more fun / Quakers' meeting has begun / If you show your teeth or tongue / You will have to pay the forfeit), although I never understood what the "game" was or why it was "funny" or even "fun". I suspect my older siblings might have wanted to keep me quiet during evenings babysitting me, but that's just a suspicion. However, if this is as close as I get to a Quaker meeting, I'll consider myself fulfilled.

I'm not sure how an administrator would see it, because it can seem like a lot of dead space, but I think it's meaningful and powerful. It's kinesthetic. It's quiet. It priviledges the written over the spoken word. It builds community (they take some chances standing up in front of each other ans sharing like that). It's different. And yes, it is religious and I think they need more reverence in their lives: reverence for life, for others, for education, for writing. I'll keep on using the Silent Conversation, and I hope more and more students will will be inspired to share.