The Way It Is and the Way It Will Be

My feet crunched over gravel in the parking lot. It was quite a walk from my car to the entrance of the building; I was a roving white beacon amidst dingy brick and gray sky. I tried to calm my nerves and push fear completely from mind. Stereotypes were creeping up like undesired bile in the esophagus – I was angry at myself for even letting them surface. But the fact of the matter was that I was a young white female stepping into the complete unknown – an alternative high school in the heart of Lansing. When I found out I was going to be placed at Hill a few weeks prior I was excited – absolutely anxious to get my foot in the door. Unfortunately those around me weren’t as enthusiastic. Dreary thoughts and weighty concerns started to drag me down; my aspirations for becoming an urban educator trampled underfoot before getting a chance to grow. I swallowed hard, wiped my hands on my khaki pants, and opened the door.

I made my way from the main office through the labyrinth of hallways until I found my mentor teacher’s room. Over the next few weeks I worked intimately with a small reading class, mainly catching the students up on their work, as most of them had fallen behind due to absences. My duties granted me access to personal pieces the students were writing; these experiences were the most poignant in shaping my time there. Reading the students’ stories permitted me a glance into lives I would never fully know; a glimpse at consequences that couldn’t be undone.

The particular day I recall now, and often times since, was surreal. My teacher informed me that he wanted me to read over three pieces by girls in the classroom, he didn’t have to say anything more, the look on his face foretold what I would encounter. I read the pieces, slowly, silently, while the authors stared off at nothingness or pretended to be engrossed with scribbling black spirals on paper. None of the narratives (written as vignettes) was over two pages in length, but the harrowing details in nonchalant ink silently screamed from the page. When I was finished reading each piece all I could mutter was “this is a beautifully written piece. Very descriptive. Very personal.” I didn’t earn a response. Looking back, I can’t even remember how I proceeded to work with them on revision. Emotions consumed my mind, eating, regurgitating, and cluttering the space with a sickening residue.

The car drove itself home that afternoon as I heard the stories of these girls being narrated in my mind. “I had to climb out the window to get away.” “My mother turned me in to the police.” “I ran after the patrol car that took my father away from us.” Different narratives. Different girls. Different lives. But all three affected by tragedies resultant of living in the concrete jungle – girls to be brushed off as urban casualties. I felt a burning sensation in my chest – I wanted to save them. I wanted to save students I didn’t know. I wanted to save students I had never met. I was sure I felt my heart being tugged toward becoming an educator in an urban environment, a place where I could help foster opportunities. A space where I could help students move beyond the ways in which they had been wronged. I wanted to teach, and I wanted to heal; I wanted to reveal a life beyond the overpass.

I don’t know why those girls were placed in an alternative school. I’m not sure why any student must fall through the cracks and sewer grates in our society. But what I do know is that my passion for becoming a teacher that day was intensified. I carry my time at Hill in my heart. I have woven it into my reasons for teaching. With this I expose myself to being labeled as another affluent white teacher trying to save the poor black children. This isn’t the case, I assure you. I wrote this to expose myself as an agent for greater change, social change, a change that goes beyond race and class. I knew that I would never be satisfied with the way things were and are, so I will fight (here on out and ever after) for the way things should be.

Poetry Lesson Week 6

Wrapping up poetry (with a bow):
E and F's lessons were a lovely way to wrap up the unit/semester. I think the circumstances they had to deal with were realistic, and something we will all encounter before break when we teach. I thought that they both handled our giddy and at times out of control behavior, as well as conducted lessons in which they weren't they center of attention nicely. Their mannerisms really got me thinking about how I would react in a situation in which my students' minds were elsewhere, and possibly under the influence of excitement and/or sugar. I thought that they handled the situation well - i.e. didn't start screaming or give up or design a lesson centered around simple busy work. I think they only thing a teacher can do before the break is embrace it - even it's negative connotations. Pre-break is not a time to cram students' heads full of new material, but it's not really blow-off time either. I think that wrapping up a unit at this time doesn't have to be meaningless or monotonous - I think it can be crafted for engagement. Kids will be giddy, talkative, so let's embrace that. I think F and E did just that. We wanted to talk, so they let us talk - but they channeled it in the direction they wanted to go. We did activities that were interactive, but weren't simply holiday crossword puzzles (an activity I loathed near the holidays). I think we really need to start thinking bigger than Christmas anyway in this heterogeneous and multicultural world. This lead me to another question dealing with my placement at Eastern, I saw banners and bulletin boards dressed in multicultural holiday garb - I wonder if they will celebrate them in the classes? Or, will candy canes and Rudolph still be the norm?

Poetry Lesson Week 5

Student Lead Classes:

Both M and J's lessons today were focused on pieces of poem's to illustrate their theme of the day. Interestingly enough, neither lead a discussion on a single poem, but instead resorted to student created pieces. I enjoyed M's lesson in particular because I felt like it set the tone for future classes to come. It's a wonderful idea to work on community like that before you expect your class to open up to one another, share their ideas and opinions, and work with each other - especially when it comes to their own writing. I can remember my own experience in high school when I was forced to share a poem I created with my peers, it was like putting my innards on display, a truly horrifying experience. I think these type of lessons also let students see what they're really capable of creating. I think students are too often intimidated when it comes to creating something of their own, particularly poetry. Society has placed poetry on this pedestal, and creating it almost seems unattainable and absolutely discouraging. I liked the use of these activities, that didn't reveal students too much, to illustrate the creativity and mastery of language and image within each of us. I would love to see this taking place in a high school class - I bet teachers would be amazed of what's within their students!

Poetry Lesson Week 4

Riddle Me This
M and J's poetry discussions brought up interesting approaches to the same old song and dance. I loved J's use of riddles for his lesson, it's something I've never even considered. I think that the skills he was going for were met in a fun way, and it also illustrated a great way to get the students warmed up to poetry and close reading. M's approach to leading discussion was a refreshing idea, though a little odd to me at first. I've never really had such an experience before, but I think it turned out well. I wonder what high school students would feel like if we were to sit amongst them for discussion - what message would it send across? I can see myself doing such a thing, but wonder what it says about the authority I hold. It just got me thinking about how different we'll all structure classes, as we all have our own personalities and styles - it's nice to see them coming through in our teaching. J's lesson brought up my inner turmoil over close reading and analysis. These are skills that I think are important to teach, but I always question how far to take them. Sometimes I think it's just as important to appreciate a piece of writing, rather than tear it apart for some elusive meaning. Is there a line? Can it be crossed and then doubled back over again? Does analysis, literary criticism and interpretation take precedence over personal responses to a great piece of writing?

Poetry Lesson Week 2

S, R, and C's lessons brought up some interesting points through their strikingly different choices in poems. R and C chose to look at silly poems, aimed at middle schoolers. While I think that this was age appropriate, I wonder if these same poems can be used in high school as warm-ups to get the students into the poetry frame of mind, instead of just jumping right into a Whitman poem at 7:30 am. I thought R handled the unexpected well - something I don't feel like we're getting enough practice with while teaching our peers. S did a great job leading discussion on her Hughes poems, though I do question how much students in high school will have to say about poems from the get-go. I think she had a reserve of questions to spark discussion, but I think a little history might have to be ventured into as well to fully appreciate such poems. These lessons, S's and C's in particular, made me question the use of poet/author biographies while teaching. This was brought up to me in my own lesson, is the poet's life/background crucial to the poem? What would it mean if we didn't consider the author's perspective or probable explanation of the poem and solely went off of the words? What are the +/- to having such knowledge before looking at the poem? Does their meaning take precedent over out own? What if the two don't align? It's an issue I'm still torn between.

Poetry Lesson Week 1

The Old West vs. the Westside
L's and E's lessons went well, I enjoyed both avenues they ventured down. I particularly enjoyed L's lesson because of her humility (admitting of her past experiences with poetry, as well as her unfamiliarity with the genre), it served as a humble reminder. Sometimes I think the knowledge we think we should walk out of school with can be overwhelming - we're expected to know every little component of the subject of English. Her use of pre-constructed dittos, something we've been avoiding like the plague, helped me to realize that we can utilize resources. It seems like an obvious idea, but one that I think we've sometimes forget in our quest for creative lessons and assignments. E's exploration into a Native poem was an interesting choice of narrative, that she covered well, one I've never been exposed to in school. I think that it's important to study other cultures in our classes, but I think it's something that can't be done half-hazardly. Too often I think multicultural literature gets thrown in for "flavor" in overwhelmingly white curriculum (as has been my experience)- how do we approach such literature? To clarify, how do we select which cultures to incorporate into the curriculum? How do we deal with the possibility of our multicultural students being viewed as the token representative of their culture? These may be easy to answers questions, but are still areas of gray to me.

Bukowski on Poetry

I think this lesson went fairly well,though not necessarily according to plan...
What I think I could have improved on:

• My directions for the Tea Party activity - I could have modeled how I wanted students to utilize the notecards (I think there was miscommunication, as you guys started to order yourself with your cards)
• I think I should have played Bukowski reading the poem instead of having a student read it - what would this imply? Did it really matter since I didn't follow up with the discussion questions I thought I would?
• I always have rough beginnings easing into the role of teacher in front of you guys, I think I would behave different in front of high school students because I wouldn't feel as awkward
• I don't think I ought to "censor" myself, but I think that some things I say need more explanation for a high school audience - "taboo male fantasy", "misogynist", "poet laureate of skid row", etc.
• I wish I would have done something with the classroom physically to fit with the discussion that was taking place between students verbally; although our class has no problem debating with one another, it may be more difficult for high school students to respond to faces/voices they can't see

What I thought went well:

• the discussion! I had no idea the class was going to get so into the poem. I'm glad I didn't drop it in favor of an actual beat poem
• I was surprised at how well I actually followed the discussion taking place, I didn't know I had it in me to take in so many points of view at once
• I discovered just how comfortable I am with conflicting and heated view points
  
• Getting the students up and active with poetry, instead of sitting in their desks for traditional discussion

I think this lesson would translate well into a classroom, but I think it would take much more guidance and action on my part to get it going. I'm not sure how students would react to the content of the poem, or if such a passionate discussion would take place at all. It's hard to say. I think that a discussion would have to be prompted via images or comments by myself to either push people's buttons or serve as a devil's advocate to elicit a response. I feel like the lesson didn't actually teach anything about Beat poetry, but I also planned for it to serve as only an introduction, so all is not loss. I think much more would be made of my aims through the homework, the DVD, and the ensuing discussion. I noticed just how sarcastic I was after this lesson - I question whether or not this can have negative repercussions in my classroom...