A few lines composed above a pee-wee football field:
I drove to Sardis to watch my students play football. Originally, I thought the game was in Oxford, so I promised my students I would attend without realizing I would have to commute on a Saturday (yuck). Thankfully, my students play for a coach who stays in contact with teachers regarding schoolwork and behavior, so he called me early in the morning to remind me of the time and location of the game. So I was stuck. Even though I wanted to begin my glorious fall break away from school, I had to go.
ALL of my problem students play football. Actually, that's a bit of an exaggeration because a select few (including the infamous Cars backpack referral student) does not play. The rest of the troublesome students were present. The game was mostly uneventful, and the North Panola boys lost to Oxford by two points. The loss was only slightly more heartbreaking than what I saw around the field.
The blatant difference between school districts left me feeling hopeless. The Oxford team had about 30 players overall. Six obsessive, loud, and focused fathers made up their coaching staff. Every student had his name on the back of his jersey, and they all looked well-sized for their age. The parents, were dressed almost entirely in jeans, boots, hiking puffer coats, wearing designer sunglasses. The parking lot was full of european cars, luxury SUVs, and even the trucks were models made within the last five years or so. The men and women were clean, middle-aged, and some were dressed as though they were heading to the Grove to tailgate immediately following the game.
The other side of the bleachers showed an opposite group. Many children in ill-fitting football pants, some without jerseys altogether, were roughhousing and shouting while their white counterparts watched, wide-eyed at their play fighting and disparaging exchanges. Some small fights broke out. If parents were present, they were on the other set of bleachers, far from their unruly children. One lone mother was forced to wrangle the wild little football players, referring to the Oxford parents as "our visitors" and begging the boys to sit quietly.
I felt sorry for my students. Football is the only extracurricular activity they can participate in. They love football. They are excellent players. Yet, students from Oxford who get to enjoy a well-funded school district with more opportunities at their fingertips won the game.
After the game was over, I spoke to my students who seemed discouraged at the loss. One of my students would not even look at me or talk to me as I greeted him. In that moment, I felt like I had intruded. Later, the boys' coach texted me. He explained that the boys were excited that we had come. He said it made the boys feel important. He expressed "thanks and gratitude" for coming to watch.
Upon reflection, it seems like I saw more than the defeat of a team versus another football team. It seems like I saw the defeat of an underfunded, neglected school district. Its wealthy counterpart, though not free from struggle, drove home to a supportive community. My students had to catch a ride with family members to a place that may not even feel like home. It makes me feel too sad to keep writing now. I will work hard on Monday and Tuesday to help give my students the chance to rise up from defeat.
My students' biggest needs are far beyond my scope of influence. Most of my students have one or two pairs of shoes and I am silently thankful for the few students who come to school prepared to share their school supplies with peers. As far as my students' biggest needs in the classroom, I suppose I will start with the items which come to mind first. Ms. G and I have talked at length about literacy in the sixth grade. Ms. G has been a warrior for books: stocking her own bookshelves with beautiful copies of books for all reading levels. Together, we have made a serious effort in obtaining class sets of novels. We have flown under the radar, taking breaks from the state test insanity to read full novels with our classes. I have read The BFG, Holes, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and will begin a historical fiction story on the death of Emmett Till, that Ms. G is loaning to my home room.
As far as what I've done for my students instructionally, I think pedagogy is best expressed on that page. Otherwise I'm going to discuss some of what I have truly been able to share with my students as their teacher for two years.
For one, Ms. G and I have (so far) been the ones who stuck around. By that, I refer to my school's absolutely abhorrent teacher retention. We lost 43% of our staff last year. Next year, the number is sure to be worse because 7 teachers have quit this school year alone. I firmly believe the only way teaching at North Panola will become easier is if teachers stay put, and stick out the hard times. However, some people don't believe in the students or can't deal with the stress. In some ways, I understand. Dysfunction is impossible for some people to deal with. But, I certainly don't understand how dysfunction can be ironed into organization if people quit on the struggle.
I guess the greatest thing I've done for my students, besides remaining at North Panola, is meeting them halfway. I know Ms. G and I never try to quench their desire to be children or express themselves. We cherish their personalities. We understand that they sometimes don't get to express themselves creatively at home. I think we treat our students like budding adults, we take their ideas seriously but help foster ideas of empathy and morality within them.
That being said, my work isn't done. If I thought I had done enough for NPJH, I'd look for a job elsewhere. But, I'm not the best educator I can be. I still have more to do at North Panola and I cannot wait to continue expressing my love for these students by teaching them every day next year.
ALL of my problem students play football. Actually, that's a bit of an exaggeration because a select few (including the infamous Cars backpack referral student) does not play. The rest of the troublesome students were present. The game was mostly uneventful, and the North Panola boys lost to Oxford by two points. The loss was only slightly more heartbreaking than what I saw around the field.
The blatant difference between school districts left me feeling hopeless. The Oxford team had about 30 players overall. Six obsessive, loud, and focused fathers made up their coaching staff. Every student had his name on the back of his jersey, and they all looked well-sized for their age. The parents, were dressed almost entirely in jeans, boots, hiking puffer coats, wearing designer sunglasses. The parking lot was full of european cars, luxury SUVs, and even the trucks were models made within the last five years or so. The men and women were clean, middle-aged, and some were dressed as though they were heading to the Grove to tailgate immediately following the game.
The other side of the bleachers showed an opposite group. Many children in ill-fitting football pants, some without jerseys altogether, were roughhousing and shouting while their white counterparts watched, wide-eyed at their play fighting and disparaging exchanges. Some small fights broke out. If parents were present, they were on the other set of bleachers, far from their unruly children. One lone mother was forced to wrangle the wild little football players, referring to the Oxford parents as "our visitors" and begging the boys to sit quietly.
I felt sorry for my students. Football is the only extracurricular activity they can participate in. They love football. They are excellent players. Yet, students from Oxford who get to enjoy a well-funded school district with more opportunities at their fingertips won the game.
After the game was over, I spoke to my students who seemed discouraged at the loss. One of my students would not even look at me or talk to me as I greeted him. In that moment, I felt like I had intruded. Later, the boys' coach texted me. He explained that the boys were excited that we had come. He said it made the boys feel important. He expressed "thanks and gratitude" for coming to watch.
Upon reflection, it seems like I saw more than the defeat of a team versus another football team. It seems like I saw the defeat of an underfunded, neglected school district. Its wealthy counterpart, though not free from struggle, drove home to a supportive community. My students had to catch a ride with family members to a place that may not even feel like home. It makes me feel too sad to keep writing now. I will work hard on Monday and Tuesday to help give my students the chance to rise up from defeat.
My students' biggest needs are far beyond my scope of influence. Most of my students have one or two pairs of shoes and I am silently thankful for the few students who come to school prepared to share their school supplies with peers. As far as my students' biggest needs in the classroom, I suppose I will start with the items which come to mind first. Ms. G and I have talked at length about literacy in the sixth grade. Ms. G has been a warrior for books: stocking her own bookshelves with beautiful copies of books for all reading levels. Together, we have made a serious effort in obtaining class sets of novels. We have flown under the radar, taking breaks from the state test insanity to read full novels with our classes. I have read The BFG, Holes, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and will begin a historical fiction story on the death of Emmett Till, that Ms. G is loaning to my home room.
As far as what I've done for my students instructionally, I think pedagogy is best expressed on that page. Otherwise I'm going to discuss some of what I have truly been able to share with my students as their teacher for two years.
For one, Ms. G and I have (so far) been the ones who stuck around. By that, I refer to my school's absolutely abhorrent teacher retention. We lost 43% of our staff last year. Next year, the number is sure to be worse because 7 teachers have quit this school year alone. I firmly believe the only way teaching at North Panola will become easier is if teachers stay put, and stick out the hard times. However, some people don't believe in the students or can't deal with the stress. In some ways, I understand. Dysfunction is impossible for some people to deal with. But, I certainly don't understand how dysfunction can be ironed into organization if people quit on the struggle.
I guess the greatest thing I've done for my students, besides remaining at North Panola, is meeting them halfway. I know Ms. G and I never try to quench their desire to be children or express themselves. We cherish their personalities. We understand that they sometimes don't get to express themselves creatively at home. I think we treat our students like budding adults, we take their ideas seriously but help foster ideas of empathy and morality within them.
That being said, my work isn't done. If I thought I had done enough for NPJH, I'd look for a job elsewhere. But, I'm not the best educator I can be. I still have more to do at North Panola and I cannot wait to continue expressing my love for these students by teaching them every day next year.