18 December 2013

My, How They've Grown

If you have been reading my blog for the past few years, you might remember that 9th grade class from hell that I taught 2 years back. I wrote a lot of "woe is me" blogs regarding my experience with that class. Well, I had them again in 10th grade last year. And now I have them AGAIN in 11th grade. These things happen in small schools...

Over time, I've gotten to know the students in this class. I now know their families. I know their stories. I know their quirks. I could pick each of their handwriting out of a lineup of 100 - which is good, since they usually forget to put their name on their homework. I have come to value and appreciate and even generally LIKE them as human beings.

But lock me in a classroom with ALL of them for 90 minutes a day, and it feels like a 90 minute train wreck.

While I can see some growth and change in them over the past few years, I still often feel like I'd rather be beating my head against the wall than attempting to teach them math. Or herding cats. That sounds easier.

They took their semester final this morning. As I was monitoring them, I was thinking of the past few years. And it was with no small amount of regret that I wished I could have a better relationship with these kids. I feel like I've spent SO much time over the past few years trying to get them to do those basic fundamental things that come so easily to other classes that I haven't had time to really build a relationship with them. Things like thinking for yourself, bringing paper and a pencil to class, not throwing garbage on the floor, remembering to put your name on assignments, not speaking rudely to others, not copying homework, listening when the teacher is teaching, and not getting angry when you ask her to repeat something for the SIXTH time and she refuses to do so - these are things these high school juniors just CAN'T seem to be able to do. STILL. And I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle sometimes.

So I am more strict with this class than I am with my other classes. This class has more rules than any other class I teach. I end up being the bad guy a lot. I get more frustrated with this class than I ever have with any other class. I have almost cried in this class more than any other class. And I feel like that has hurt my chances of having as good of a relationship with them as I might have had.

But I don't know what to do about it.

I contemplated this for quite awhile as they took their final this morning.

When the final ended, all the students rushed off to their next exam. One came back though, and he handed me a candy bar and an envelope and told me to have a merry Christmas.

After he left, I opened the envelope. Inside was a letter.

"Dear Miss. I can't believe that I survived the first semester of pre-cal. Now I look forward to the remaining second semester. I just want to tell you that you are one of the greatest and most influential teachers in our school. Yes, I don't really like math and do bad in it, but it's not your fault at all. It's just that I'm better in other stuff than math. And one of the biggest reasons I was able to survive my high school math was cause of your effective teaching. You always explain everything very specifically, always teach us whether you are sick or healthy, and most of the time answer my never-ending questions. There are numerous times in class when I think to myself, 'When I become a teacher, I wanna be like Ms. P'. I'm sorry for asking you so many questions. I will try to listen more attentively in class and diligently take notes. Seriously, if someone else was my math teacher, I would have almost failed it, but I'm glad that I have such an awesome teacher like you. Have a nice Christmas break!"

Speaking of almost crying in class...

He has no idea how perfectly timed that letter was, and he'll never know what it means to me.

It means there is hope. Hope that even though I'm the bad guy, they know how much I care about them. Hope that they see that I'm trying. Hope that they know change needs to happen. Hope that I'm doing something right.

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