First Graders or Freshmen - Who is More Mature?

Today, I was late to my school site because I turned my phone on silent to watch the Obamamercial, and therefore I did not hear my alarm.  How embarrassing.

Yesterday, we gave the Juniors an open book test on Act 1 of The Crucible.  I graded them last night, and had very few A's.  Can someone explain that to me?  I am realizing constantly how jaded I am from my high school experiences in honors and AP classes, but thankful that I have managed to not hold this against my students.  It isn't their fault... well, it is some of their fault.  Like the kid that admitted to us that he wasn't paying attention, and that is why he got a 7/30 on his open book test.  I said to him, "you couldn't have even looked for the answers in the book?  I mean, really, at least learn how to fake it."  I should know, I was an expert at "faking it" and "b.s." in both high school and college.  Uh... I mean... I was an excellent student...

Now, onto my titular topic.  My freshmen class has been unbearably immature lately.  We're talking  paper throwing, giggling, poking, calling out, etc levels of immaturity.  Which has caused me to compare them to the first and second graders that I tutor, because I go through a pretty similar situation on a daily basis with them, too.  So, you ask, who wins?  I have two second graders that are definitely more mature than four or five of my freshmen.  Thankfully, the other 15 of my freshmen are reasonably more mature... but only three impress me with their maturity (interestingly enough, they are all girls).  One kid is so bad, he was suspended from school, but I am also pretty sure that he has ADHD.  

Next week, we are doing a lesson plan that I created myself.  I hope it goes well.

Entry #15 - Halloween Memories

My mom made most of my costumes as a child, so I always had really unique ones.  My favorite was Halloween was kind of a weird one for me, because my brother was really sick and couldn't go with my mom and me.

For the costumes this particular year, we did a Super Mario theme.  My mom was Luigi, my brother was going to be Mario, and I was Princess Peach.  I still remember the feel of the stuff, felt "hair" my mom made, and how it was bright yellow.  My mom looked so funny in her green Luigi outfit, but it was perfect, just like everything she made for us.  And, it was a very special Halloween, since it was just my mom and me.

Down my parents' street a little but was this old tree we called "stinky tree" because, well, it smelled awful.  Every year on Halloween, we would avoid this house, like all of the other children, because of the smell.  It only smelled bad around this time of year, too, and my mom said that it was because of the flowers that bloomed on it.  That tree is gone, now.

Halloween was always so cold by my parents' house.  Wearing that little pink dress, I am sure I was freezing, but I never would say a word to be sure that my mom didn't take me home.  My mom collected candy that year for my brother, and I have so many memories of the "plunk" of candy falling into my bucket, before we switched to pillow cases to get more candy.  

I just realized how random the "stinky tree" paragraph looks.  Whatever.  

Entry #14 - People I Can Count On

Sometimes, I am not sure who I have to count on.  Most of the people I have trusted deeply or held as my closest friends have hurt me in one way or another too severely to forgive.  Although I have a lot of friends, there are few I would ask much from.

When I think of people I can count on, my parents and my brother are the ones that really come to mind immediately.  My parents have always been the most supportive people in my life, and I know they will always be there for me when I need them.  The same goes for my brother, although it hasn't always been that way.  In April, though, when I was scared of what my future would bring, my brother was there to help m,e and made me feel like everything was going to be okay.

The other person I know I can count on for anything is my boyfriend - and yes, I do realize that sounds cheesy and gag-worthy.  The guarded, scared, and damaged little girl side of me hesitates to say that, but in my heart I know how honest he is, and he has shown me everyday that he will be there for me, and that together, we can get through anything.  Of course, that scared, guarded side of me hopes I don't eat those words in the future.

Welcome to my battle.

My decision to become a teacher first ran through my mind at the age of 13.  I was in my middle school English class, and one of the students asked our teacher, Mr. Akiyama, why he had become a teacher.  I thought that this was a very odd question to ask someone.  Does anyone really know why they become anything?  I don't remember his answer exactly, but I do know that he said it was the satisfaction that he had at the end of the day that really made it worthwhile.  And, in that moment, I thought to myself, 

"I could do that."

I have wandered down many different paths in my life, regarding what and where I wanted to be when "I grew up."  And now, I find myself out of college, in my very early 20s, and in one of the best programs in the country to become a teacher.  I have never felt more like a grownup in my life... except for the fact that I am unnervingly frightened by the whole experience, and I have never felt so uncertain of myself.

I teach 3 periods, under the supervision of two VERY different female "master teachers."  my first two are Juniors, that range from the quiet outcasts to the loud, obnoxious kid that you're afraid won't do anything with their life.  My freshmen... well, let me just say that I know I was never that annoying, despite what my older brother may tell you.

Here, I plan to chronicle the journal entries I write along with my freshmen twice a week, as well as any experiences I have that are poignant enough for me to find the time to sit down and type.  I have been at it for about 5 weeks now, and there are some things I have to get out there into the world.

I hope that through this blog, if nothing else, I can get someone to understand how hard a teacher's job really is.  Everyday is a battle, but it is one that, for the sake of the future, I will willingly dive into the trenches for.

Entry #13 - Loss of Belief

I have to point out that this is a very personal entry to me, because it gives way to explanation of a lot of my beliefs.  I don't want to change the names in any of my entries, but this is the only one I have ever considered it in.  But, I won't, for the sake of "keepin' it real."  I hope I don't offend anyone.

When I was 12, my brother's best friend (who was my ex-best friend's older brother) was in a serious car accident with one of my brother's other friends, Brian.  Ramsey was the one driving, and only had a very serious injury to his head, whereas Brian had a lot of broken bones, cuts, and bruises.

At this time in my life, I had been going to church with some of my friends.  One of the things I had always remembered was that they told us if we prayed, and it was selfless, God would listen to our prayers.

Well, I was not very fond of Ramsey - he was always so mean to be, and my brother and him would gang up on me all of time.  But, I still prayed, every night, that Ramsey would be okay.  Ten days or so after the accident, and being placed in a drug-induced comma, Ramsey was declared brain dead, and his family had to "pull the plug."  After that day, I have never set foot inside of a church for any religious reason (it had been never until my trip to Europe this summer, unless you count the chapel at a cemetery).  I have never since prayed, and I do not believe in a God or a monotheistic religion with any higher power at its center of faith.

Now that it has been almost ten years (March 10, 2009 will be ten years) since his death, I realize what "good" came from his death, and the effect that it has had on the lives of those involved in it.  However, I lost my faith in the church, and I cannot trust them or in a god that lies to people and can disappoint them so much.  That may be a strong statement to make - but I have had almost ten years to think about this, and the actions of so many people and churches as a whole have continued to solidify these feelings in me.

Entry #12 - Reflection on Holocaust Documentary

Before my freshmen begin reading Night, we watched a documentary on 5 Hungarian Holocaust survivors.  I didn't get a chance to finish this entry.

The Holocaust is one of the most difficult things for me to fathom.  I grew up in a community heavily populated with Jews, and I know many people who have grandparents that ere in the Holocaust.

This documentary is so different from many of the others that I have watched over the years, because of the direct and personal focus placed on this histories of individuals.  They are all so difficult to watch, still, and not become overwhelmed with any number of emotions.  The Holocaust makes me angry, frustrated, and sad, and I think that everyone should feel those emotions (and more) about the Holocaust.

Entry #11 – My Fears

I am extremely afraid of failure.  I am afraid that I will work so hard, as I have, and I will fail and have nothing.  From my career choice to my relationships… I am afraid of failing and ending up alone.

I fear that I won’t make it through the credential program and I will have to redo it or find a new goal in life.  Or, I fear that I will not be a good enough teacher, and that I will lose my job.

My parents have been married for 30 years – only 1 person in my family has ever divorced.  I am so afraid that I will not make someone happy and that they will not want to be with me, but stay with me not to hurt me, and out of pity.  I guess, then, I am also afraid of an unhappy relationship, or making someone I love unhappy because they do not love me.

Entry #10 – My Day “Off” From School

The alarm started its annoying song at 5:55am.  I groaned, and searched under my pillow to find my phone, to make that awful noise stop.  I jabbed the oblong “Palm” button several times to make the incessant noise stop.  I considered, for a moment, laying back down and covering up in my soft, fluffy, fuzzy blue blanket, but I knew I had to be to school earlier than usual, so I resigned myself to turning off my other two back-up alarms and throwing off my favorite blanket.

            I reluctantly jumped over Amazo, my boyfriend’s extremely fat tabby cat who had decided to sleep at our feet as opposed to the floor or chair where I usually find him so early in the morning, and stumbled into the bathroom, squinting my eyes and I turned on the fan and light.  I headed straight for the shower, and I looked forward to the welcoming hot water of the morning, but instead was greeted mockingly by a shocking spray of frigid water that gave me a jolt of adrenaline.

            After my shower (I of course waited for my precious steaming hot water), I looked back down at the blanket-covered futon and my soft, blue pillow, and crawled back under my favorite soft, fuzzy, blue blanket and though “what’s five more minutes?” as I fished my phone back out from underneath my pillow and reset my alarm for those precious few moments of rest before I had to get ready for the long day ahead.

Entry #9 – Watermark Event: Moving Out

When I turned 18, and was starting college, I moved out of my parents’ house.  I had not only lived in that house my entire life, but I had even lived in the same room.

            I was excited to move out.  I hated where I grew up, and knew I would be closer to my friends that lived where I was moving.  I was going to live with two other girls, Mandy and P.J.  I had known Mandy for about three years, but we had found P.J. through a website.  Mandy and I shared a room.  Our room had one window, and a walk-in closet.  On each side, we put up posters and photos to make it our own space.  The bathroom was across the hall, and Mandy decorated it with a duck theme.

            Things were great at first.  But, as time went on, it all went downhill.  We started arguing, fighting, and yelling.  It was awful, and Mandy was proving to be a terrible friend.  It was so bad, I had to move my mattress to the living room. 

When it came time to move out, I ended up having to clean everything in the apartment except P.J.’s room, because Mandy did nothing.  And, to top it all off, they took the deposit money and forged my signature.

Entry #8 – Watermark Event: A “Major” Change

The Freshmen have to work on this Watermark Assignment, that they will continue through the quarter.

When I was in my sophomore year of college, I was a Physics major.  I was starting my electro-magnetism class, and I had gotten the teacher everyone warned me about, including faculty.  I went to the class for the first few weeks, and it was just as awful as I had been warned.  He berated the class, calling us stupid for having questions, and would only give “A”s to people that went to all of his office hours.

            It was horrible, and I was so conflicted – I had already spent a year in college preparing for a career in physics, I had taken chemistry, other physics classes, and really difficult math, and I didn’t know what to do.

            Luckily, the previous semester, I had taken an English 101 class that I loved, and it reminded me how much I loved to write and do essays – just overall having the opportunity to be creative.  After some serious deliberation and conversation with my mom, I decided to drop my physics class, lab, and my calculus 2 class, and change my major to English.

            I have never looked back on this decision.  I actually decided to teach because I never want another student to be treated the way that I was by that physics professor.

Entry #7 – A Lesson You Have Learned

I plan on posting all of my Writer's Notebook entries.  This is the first one that I was in the Freshmen class for.

When I was 9, I wanted to go to my best friend Cassidy’s dad’s girlfriend’s house.  My parents were not home, and my brother was babysitting me.  I called my parents, and they told me that I needed to wait for them to come home.  But, Cassidy was getting ready to go and they could not wait for me.  So, despite what my parents said, I went.

            I had a great time at Jan’s house; it is the only time I have ever laughed so hard that something came out of my nose (very cold water – not something I want to relive).  However, my parents called Jan’s house, and were absolutely furious with me.  They came and picked me up, and I was grounded for a month.  I was also not allowed to go to my other friend’s, Christy, 10^th birthday party.

            What lesson did I learn?  I tried very hard to not disobey my parents again.