Cop knocks and hard knocks

My classroom is separated from the classroom next to me by a temporary wall. This wall could be rolled back if bookcases, desks, and other classroom accouterments weren't in the way. In any case, it won't be anytime soon. The class next to me is LOUD. Not productive, engaging loud, but off-task do-what-you-want LOUD. I let the other teacher "control" her class, but on this particular day my students were engaged in the subject matter of the story we read and the task at hand. We were doing a whole group lesson, and I was modeling different fix-up strategies using students' suggestions. The class next door was again "popping off." Two of my male students- Dion* (a dead-on Kevin Hart look-alike) and Wally* (a student from a bullet-riddled neighborhood in Detroit) were distracted by the noise and the teacher-led chorus of "Gin and Juice." I wish I was kidding. Wally tapped Dion on the chest, and motioned his head toward the door. The pair half-marched, half-sauntered out of my classroom and walked to the classroom next door. They knocked loudly on the door 3 times. Once the teacher opened the door, Dion loudly proclaimed "Keep it down! N*ggas tryin' to learn!"

This was my proudest teaching moment to date.

*Names changed

You used to be my favorite teacher but...

Ms. S--- I'm threw with you

(excerpt from my whiteboard)

English is hard (difficult?)

Question from class today about a story that takes place in a rural setting: True/False - this story takes place in the country. All of the ELL students selected true. Other students' answers fluctuated.

According to the ELL students' definition, this question was a no-brainer. Of course the story took place in a country.

But, trying to describe country as the opposite of a dense, urban area was a little more difficult. In Thailand, if you don't live in a city, you live in a village.

After explaining country's other definition, including unpaved roads and hillsides, a student said, "Oh, so is that where they got country music from?"

"Yes," I said. "Very good. You made a great comparison! That is why in country song singers always sing about pick-up trucks. They need them to navigate the roads." 

Tomorrow maybe we'll learn about why certain drivers of pick-up trucks feel it ok to sing about marrying inanimate objects, but two same-sex humans can't have the same right.

Planning is more exciting than doing

Two winters ago, I went on a cruise with my parents, aunt, and uncle. I was (paid) volunteering with AmeriCorps*VISTA and easily had a week to spare. My aunt planned the entire trip, and we had a fabulous time on the Mexican island of Cozumel, a less fabulous time on the off-shore banking island of Grand Cayman, and a wonderful view of Jamaica from the ship (because of ~35 knot winds).

While we were saying our farewells in Houston after disembarkation and a short commute, I expressed sadness that our vacation was ending. My aunt, however, felt a loss as soon as we embarked. For her, the joy was in planning the trip.

At the time I didn't understand, but now as I try to figure out my next step in my career and life, I do a little. Thanks to that AmeriCorps experience and two years of actual, real, grown-up employment my student loans are almost paid in full, giving me a great sense of freedom.

I have two years of teaching experience in the trenches. My classroom right now consists of students from [in descending order of interesting-ness]: Nigeria, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Myanmar (formerly Burma), Thailand, and Haiti.

I have a student who is deaf, but by no means frail. He could steamroll (or “fold,” as the students say) almost anybody at the center.

About half of my students did not graduate high school. Most who did would not have done so if they didn't have accommodations for their learning and behavioral difficulties (as federally mandated under the IDEA Act). This statement is not meant to undermine their determination; it was probably harder for them to graduate than other high school students.

All are between 16 and 25 years of age. All read below an eighth grade level.

Besides their age and reading level, these demographics are subject to change every week.

So one could say I've gained some experience. I could – and intend to – speak at length about my classroom dynamics (and not just the demographics). But now, in a rare moment, I want to focus on me and my trip.

And what a weird, strange, trip it has been. As I approach a decade of living in Milwaukee, I realize I never planned on this.

Sure, I planned on coming to school here, but I was 18 years old then. I knew I wanted to write in a city, not a college town. It's why I chose one MU over another: University of Missouri at Columbia.

Mizzou was and is the best journalism school in the country. Would they still have me?

And why now, almost 10 years later, am I still at this same planning stage? Why has the feeling of needing to move on - from where I grew up, from where I ended up, and from (eventually) the town that found me - not escaped?

Do I want to pursue writing or teaching? Writing about teaching? Teaching about writing?

I still don't fully understand my aunt's sentiment, but I do know that doing is never done. So I want to keep planning, keep doing, and still never get off the ship.