Stooping to their level.

I had the following conversation with a student today after I handed her back her rough draft with my comments:

Student: What's H?
Me: It's not an H.
Student: Then what is it?
Me: The paragraph symbol.
Student: Paragraph...paragraph...paragraph...whatchu tryin' to say?
Me: I'm tryin' to say that your whole paper is one long paragraph.
Entire class: Oooooooh...
Student: That's just because I didn't break it up into paragraphs.
Me: And I was just showin' you WHERE to break it up into paragraphs.

Another student came to me with the "Research Paper MLA Cheat Sheet" I had handed out. He put the sheet on the desk and pointed to the top, which showed them how to put in in-text citations step by step. This is literally what I put on their sheet:

First: put quotation marks around the words you're using that are from somewhere else.
Second: at the end of the sentence, put a parenthesis --> (
Third: put the last name of the textbook/article's author inside the parenthesis
Fourth: put the page number of the book/article you got that quote from
Fifth: put the other parenthesis --> )
Sixth: put a period.

It seems this student was offended that I had felt the need to break it down quite so simply. This was our conversation:

Student: Miss Melchione, we're not in second grade.
Me: I just wanted to make sure you got it.
Student: I think I know where to put my quotation marks. I can't believe you think we're that stupid.

And then I reached over and just circled the "put a period" on his paper. We had a good chuckle.

I initiated something today called "silent day." What the kids don't know yet is that it's going to evolve into "silent week." I walked into school this week - this wonderful week before spring break when the kids are going on field trips and attending assemblies at the end of the week and they're on Week 6 of a research paper they hate - and decided I can't do it. I can't handle them running around and screaming and tearing my stuff up for another week. So when silent reading time ended I passed out their folders and told them in whispers that they can choose to either keep reading or work on their papers, but they may not talk. And by golly, it worked. So I did it with my other classes too. Didn't work quite as well for 5th block, but it worked better than letting them run wild. Silence, my friends, is glorious. It's my new favorite thing. Hence: the birth of "silent week."

Last Minute Productivity

Just one tiny story. Today the research papers' rough drafts were due, and they've had a week to write them. Many of my students didn't even think about starting until the end of class yesterday. Two of my classes didn't even really make an attempt today either, but my 4th block busted their butts to reach the deadline. And all but two were successful. One girl, sitting in the front row, who honestly sleeps through about half of her time in my room, asked me repeatedly to come up and help her through a rough spot in her draft. About three minutes before deadline when I went around to grade the drafts, she suddenly yells at the top of her lungs "I'M DONE!" and I yelled back from my desk "YAY!"

I really do love it when they get their butts in gear.

Grace and love.

Once again, time has passed since my last blog update. I don’t think I really have much of a reason this time, except to just say that life has been busy. No busier than normal or than anyone else’s life, just the normal kind of busy where suddenly you think “Huh. It’s been two weeks since
I’ve blogged.” I actually have no idea how long it’s been, but you get the point.

I haven’t tried to hide in the last couple of weeks that things have been rough here in Room 43. Kids have been crazy, I’ve been frustrated, and questions of whether I’m going to stay or not have resurfaced. To make that long and needless story short, the answer came in the form of a still small voice that whispered to me last weekend that I’m fine, I’m where I’m supposed to be, and I’m staying. Just having that knowledge that I am in fact where God wants me – for now, anyway – has given me such a peace about the situation at school. The kids haven’t really calmed down much, they haven’t really started caring more, and the over-all atmosphere of the 7th grade hasn’t changed, but my attitude has. Have there still been bad days when I struggle with holding on to things too much or let myself get bothered by them? Yup. But I’ve also been laughing and teasing with them again, and I’ve seen some of them actually learning and working hard. It’s been easier to keep it all in perspective, which I’ve been so thankful for. And then we watched a video at church Sunday night that rocked me to the core.

http://www.worshiphousemedia.com/mini-movies/12872/Deidox--Lindsayhttp://www.worshiphousemedia.com/mini-movies/12872/Deidox--Lindsay

I do not work in the Bronx. I understand that. I do however work in a school that is 77% free and reduced lunch, 50% ESOL, and 100% NOT the suburban middle school all my textbooks told me about. I teach reading and writing, like this woman. I teach middle school, like this woman. My kids physically look like this woman’s kids (although mine look much older), and my kids wear the exact same uniform as this woman’s kids. And as I watched this video and heard her talk about her kids and talk to her kids, and see her obvious love for them, I felt something that I really can’t describe. The phrase that wouldn’t stop running through my head over and over again was “I haven’t loved them like that…” And honestly…I don’t know if I have. There’s a very real possibility that I’ve only loved them conditionally, when they’ve done what I’ve asked and they’ve worked hard and they’ve stayed in their seats and they haven’t tried to hurt each other or me or my stuff. But after all the tears were wiped away and the hugs and encouraging words from the incredible man in my life had been processed, it occurred to me that even if I haven’t loved them like that up until now, I can start. I can walk into school with a different expectation and a different mindset. I can love them for who they are and for who God sees them as, instead of what they do for me or how well they behave or how hard they work. Please believe me when I say that that is much easier to do with some of my kids than others. But that’s the point, right? Grace isn’t grace if it only applies to who we want it to apply. Love isn’t love if it’s only given to the people we think have earned it. I will be the first to tell you that I don’t want my grace to apply to all of my kids, and I don’t think that all of my kids have earned my love. But…that’s the point.

...Still finding that happy place.

Well...it's been a week and I'm still looking for a change in behavior/work ethic/attitude from the children. At this point it probably goes without saying that I haven't seen it. I'll spare you the drama and details of my last week, or specifically of the day I had today which gave me a headache because of all the anger I held inside all day long, and I'll just tell you one story from homeroom. One of my girls brought an entire, unopened quart of butter pecan ice cream into my classroom to eat for breakfast. The truly surprising part of the story, I think, is that she was genuinely confused about why I asked her to take it to the head of the cafeteria to store for the day.

I also found out today that one of the kids I absolutely love from my 5th block is moving. Tomorrow is his last day. And just because all of us teachers spent the morning talking about how great he is and how upset we are that he's leaving, he acted like a jerk all afternoon in class. Because he's leaving and he doesn't care anymore. Because it would have been way too much to ask for him to just stay a great kid for two more days, I guess.

Happy Place

Usually, I shy away from sharing much when things aren’t going smoothly in Room 43. This week, though, I feel like I need to be a little bit more honest. Not vent, and not whine, but share honestly. I am struggling. The insane thought hit me Sunday night that I could just call in sick yesterday and not go in. I have sub plans for this very reason, after all. I thought about it for about three minutes too long, and then got convicted and realized I couldn’t do that. I’m an adult, and I have a job, and I’ve got to show up for it. I think that yesterday was especially hard because that conversation had taken place in my head the night before. First block was bad. What’s funny is that they weren’t that much worse than they have been, and nothing too crazy happened that should have pushed me over the line. But pushed over the line I was; I finally just snapped. “Middle of February, haven’t had a snow day all winter, my kids are incredibly rude” snapped. After being interrupted and ignored for half of class, I stopped talking, wrote an assignment on the board, and sat down at my desk. I was so done. So done with putting my heart and soul and so much of my personal time and money into this and being treated like dirt in return. So done with explaining something or teaching something and hearing other people’s voices. So done with trying to implement one of the millions of research based strategies and methods that I spent 5 years learning at one of the best educational universities available, and having them literally balled up and used as weapons, never to be completed or read. So done with looking around my classroom and seeing trash and pages torn from the books that I used my own money to buy and graffiti on my desks/walls/boards. I was so, so done.

It was a long, painfully reflective evening – with one of the best listeners and encouragers that I could ask for fighting beside me – and I walked into school this morning with a different attitude, and a little bit different of a perspective. I do too much for them. I work too hard and invest too much and I hold their hands through every task (even though I say all the time that I’m not going to hold their hand through every task). It’s time to cut some ties and give them the opportunity to either sink or swim, and to either start owning this thing or not…but they’re going to make that decision themselves. I gave them the vocab words this morning, but not the definitions. They get to look them up themselves. I gave them a poem to analyze and study and the questions I want them to answer, but we didn’t go over it together and I didn’t give them the answers. Class was silent this morning in 1st and 4th blocks, and they did their work in silence. At the end of class, some kids turned in their work and some didn’t, but they made that choice for themselves.

Six kids in my 5th block did their work but the rest of them didn't even seem phased by the fact that I literally didn't speak to them at all. Tried to start class, got ignored, put the assignment up on the screen and walked away. Six kids came and asked me questions and did the work and turned it in, and everyone else ran around the room and talked and threw things and thought they had free time. But those six kids who chose to do their work and who chose to learn rather than ignore responsibility will be an example for the rest of them. It nearly killed me to sit at my desk and ignore them while they destroyed my room and ignored the assignment on the board today, but I'm making a point. I'm going to get mad and I'm not going to hide that from them, and I'm going to take three steps back and let them decide (like the adults they act like they are) what kind of student they're going to be.

I’m going home this weekend to see my family and celebrate my birthday. I have a three day weekend, a four day work week next week, and two days worth of a 7th grade field trip next week that cuts my class size to half both days and allows me to do the same thing two days in a row. All of these things are the light at the end of the tunnel, and a spirit week where kids are out of uniform and misbehaving is what’s keeping me from it. But in the meantime, I’m staying in my happy place: Mumford and Sons and my new cowboy boots and hugs from that really great listener/encourager. It's the little things.

Just Kind of Depends.

Yesterday in 5th block, a student tried to kick down my door because she was late and I had started class and I wasn't going to interrupt myself and the beginning of class to let her in. She did, after all, have eight minutes to get to my class on time with the new bell schedule. In my homeroom, we did the moment of silence four times; they wouldn't shut up and I was tired of it so I started the timer over every time someone talked, sat down, or made an obnoxious noise. But I also had a kid get his pinky finger stuck in the handle of a window in my room during notetaking. I guess he realized it fit in the tiny hole and I'm sure he thought it was really cool until he tried to take it out, and it was completely stuck. He tried so hard to be discreet about it, but he was sitting near me and when I saw I couldn't help but laugh just a little bit at him. I did, though, get up and get my lotion out of my teacher bag and hand it to him without saying anything and without stopping teaching. When his good friend from across the room realized what was happening, though, it was all I could do to get the crazy little hyena to stop laughing.

So...you know...you take some and you lose some.

"Such a Hater"

First of all, I need to say that I have never gotten so behind on my television shows. I’ve watched one episode of Parenthood since Christmas. I’m finishing one episode of Parks and Rec as we speak. Oh, I guess I did watch one of New Girl. The point is, though, that having a boyfriend means that shocking priorities change. I’ll catch up eventually, but for now I kind of think it’s funny. I think my mother loves it. Time for some random stories and anecdotes from the week.

My kids will not shut up about the stupid Super Bowl. Actually, it’s probably more fair to say that the world won’t shut up about the stupid Super Bowl. Apparently it’s a big deal or something. But when the two teams in the Super Bowl are the Patriots (gag) and the team that beat your favorite stupid team out of the Super Bowl, you get a little grumpy about all the hype. Yesterday in fifth block, someone brought up the stupid Super Bowl….again. One of my students, whose favorite team is the Giants and who is also the student I told to get out of my face the day after they beat my team, was laying on his stomach on my back counter with his head laying on a pillow (just painting the Friday afternoon picture for you). When someone asked me what I thought about the Super Bowl – knowing full well how I felt about it – I said immediately and casually “I hate the Super Bowl. I hate both teams. I hope they both lose and they all spontaneously break their legs.” Giants fan on the back counter just shook his head and said “You’re such a hater, Miss Melchione.”

With a new nine weeks, I started some new policies. I started Tuesday off saying that since we’ve now spent a whole semester together, I am very aware of all the things that they do that make me angry and I’m now going to do something about it. So I turned their attention to the bulletin board behind my desk, that had two pieces of paper on it. One said “I was late,” and one said “I didn’t read,” and I explained that it’s a three-strikes policy where their name gets written on the list the first time and checks next to their name the second and third time, and then I’m writing a report for the Assistant Principal. Throughout the day, I added three more sheets of paper as I saw more things that make me angry: “I didn’t put my journal and/or book away,” “I didn’t come to class prepared,” and a bathroom list where they only get three trips for the marking period. LOTS of whining commenced. And continued. If you saw my face right now you would see how little I care. One of my girls – family and frequent readers: yes, THAT girl – got really mad Thursday when I wrote her name on the “I didn’t read list.” She had asked me if she could lay with a pillow on the back counter “just for silent reading time,” and I said yes, just as long as her butt was back in her seat as soon as I start class. She read for two minutes and then slept for 18 minutes, which to me means that she didn’t read. She disagreed. So she spent all afternoon Thursday and all morning Friday whining to me and the other teachers about how I had the nerve to write her name on the “I didn’t read list.” I figured she would bounce back by reading the whole twenty minutes yesterday to prove to me that she does her work and it was my mistake to try to fault her for her nap. But how did she respond? Oh, she slept for the ENTIRE class. Walked in, fell asleep, and woke up when the announcements came on and everyone was stacking chairs and putting things away. She missed silent reading time, a test, a music video, a classwork assignment, and me reading aloud for ten minutes. She did all of this in the middle of me yelling the whole class period, not because I was mad and they were being bad, but because their volume is much louder on Fridays and so is mine. She woke up about 17 times – I watched her – and rolled over to go back to sleep. Yeah, that’ll show me. I put a check next to her name on the “I didn’t read list.” (And in case you were wondering: no, it’s not my job to wake up my sleeping students. They’re big kids. Sleep through my test or notes or a classwork grade? Take the zero. That’s life, kid.)

Two conversations that happened yesterday:

Student: Miss Melchione, can you take me to Chipotle?
Me: No.
Student: But there’s a Chick-Fil-A right there. You can get yourself something too.
Me: …no.
Student: There’s an Arby’s…a Starbucks…come on Miss Melchione.

(after I said something about Facebook)
Student 1: You have Facebook?
Student 2: Oh yeah! She’s got Facebook.
(all other students in the class nod and agree)
Student 3: Yeah, I found you.
Student 4: My brother was searching for you and we found you. Did you know there’s a man in your picture?
Student 5: The bald one.
Student 6: Wearing a yellow shirt.
Me: This is why all you can see is my profile picture. And why I will decline every single friend request.