Monday, September 30, 2013
Friday, September 27, 2013
My New School
When they told us our school was shutting down, I sortof pretended like it wasn't happening. I didn't actively search for a job, I just let everything happen.
A woman who used to work with me was at a different school across the town. She is now the middle school administrator and she told her principal about me.
The principal came over last April, talked to me for 5 minutes and offered me a job at this new place.
It's a "good" school. I say that because it's almost October and I haven't heard a single curse word from a child. I teach a class of 37 students and it's not the worst thing that has ever happened to me. For the most part, they are polite and well-mannered. They understand they should be working, even when they aren't doing anything.
I put it in quotes because...it's not a actually a good school. It's a mess. It's so unorganized it makes me sad. There still aren't any consequences for inappropriate behavior. It seems like the people who work here spent many years in this district, came over here, realized the kids weren't insane, and decided that meant they didn't have to work as hard.
No one knows anything about anything, ever.
A woman who used to work with me was at a different school across the town. She is now the middle school administrator and she told her principal about me.
The principal came over last April, talked to me for 5 minutes and offered me a job at this new place.
It's a "good" school. I say that because it's almost October and I haven't heard a single curse word from a child. I teach a class of 37 students and it's not the worst thing that has ever happened to me. For the most part, they are polite and well-mannered. They understand they should be working, even when they aren't doing anything.
I put it in quotes because...it's not a actually a good school. It's a mess. It's so unorganized it makes me sad. There still aren't any consequences for inappropriate behavior. It seems like the people who work here spent many years in this district, came over here, realized the kids weren't insane, and decided that meant they didn't have to work as hard.
No one knows anything about anything, ever.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
How I Became Cool At My New School
"MISS V, You know somebody name Neek Neek? He say he know you."
"Yeah, I taught him when he was in 7th and 8th grade."
"MISS V! He got like 14,000 followers on instagram!"
That child runs down the hallway shouting that I know Neek Neek. FOUR other kids came up to me, "You know Neek Neek? You know he got like 14,000 followers on instagram?"
I mean he's practically famous. AND I KNOW HIM.
"Yeah, I taught him when he was in 7th and 8th grade."
"MISS V! He got like 14,000 followers on instagram!"
That child runs down the hallway shouting that I know Neek Neek. FOUR other kids came up to me, "You know Neek Neek? You know he got like 14,000 followers on instagram?"
I mean he's practically famous. AND I KNOW HIM.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
The Reason I Quit Blogging
I never wanted to have to write about a kid dying. I knew I would have it happen eventually. I knew I had kids who made dangerous choices and lived dangerous lives. I never, ever, ever, thought I would write about a kid like Monae Turnage dying.
You can google her name and look up all the awful details. I taught her for 3 years. She never missed a day of school, she sang in the church choir. I taught her brother, Malik, when he was in middle school. He is one of the nicest, most composed young men I have ever met. Monae was part of the debate team. She came to Saturday School. She loved being the boss of things and she wanted her teachers to love her more than she wanted anything in the world.
She went to a neighbors house. He was a 6th grader. He was playing with a gun. It went off. Monae was shot. They dragged her still-breathing body outside and hid her underneath some trash bags. On Sunday afternoon, as the neighborhood was doing a full-on search for her, the 6th grade boy led Malik to her body. She bled out underneath some trash bags in the alley less than a block from her house.
Monae Turnage was a good kid in a bad place and she is dead and sometimes that is very hard to deal with.
Rest In Peace, Monae. Even though I doubt you are resting at all. I bet you've already re-organized heaven and explained to everyone the proper way of doing things. :)
You can google her name and look up all the awful details. I taught her for 3 years. She never missed a day of school, she sang in the church choir. I taught her brother, Malik, when he was in middle school. He is one of the nicest, most composed young men I have ever met. Monae was part of the debate team. She came to Saturday School. She loved being the boss of things and she wanted her teachers to love her more than she wanted anything in the world.
She went to a neighbors house. He was a 6th grader. He was playing with a gun. It went off. Monae was shot. They dragged her still-breathing body outside and hid her underneath some trash bags. On Sunday afternoon, as the neighborhood was doing a full-on search for her, the 6th grade boy led Malik to her body. She bled out underneath some trash bags in the alley less than a block from her house.
Monae Turnage was a good kid in a bad place and she is dead and sometimes that is very hard to deal with.
Rest In Peace, Monae. Even though I doubt you are resting at all. I bet you've already re-organized heaven and explained to everyone the proper way of doing things. :)
May 7, 2013
On May 7, 2013, I stayed after school for over an hour talking with a student about God. He told me he didn't believe that God existed. Through our conversation, it seemed more like he was angry with God for all the deaths he had seen in his young life, and he didn't understand how so many dishonest people called themselves Christians. I told him that, for me, God exists in the love that people feel. I told him that I alone couldn't come into that school building every day without some feeling that there was something bigger than me to get me through. I am too flawed to do this on my own. It was an incredibly powerful conversation, and an amazing insight into what a 14 year old who grew up surrounded by violence feels. I cried in the car on the way home.
On May 7, 2013, I went to Chipotle because they were giving teachers free burritos. I saw a former student there. He was one of my original babies who caused everyone so much grief, but I loved him with my whole heart. He was there with his teacher. She said he had been voted Most Likely to Succeed. He was going to college. He was amazing and she couldn't believe all the stories of his middle school antics. Gang life? No way! Not this guy. He stays late for study help, he leads his classmates to do the right thing. I cried in Chipotle.
On May 7, 2013, one of my babies was murdered. He had been middle school best friends with the student I saw in Chipotle. He got involved in gangs and he never got out. I saw what was happening to him but I didnt know how to save him. It's like watching somebody drown but no matter what you do you can't get out there to throw the rescue line.
He was funny and he was smart and he sang to me on my birthday and they didnt even put his name in the paper. He was just a 19 year old shot on Greenmount.
He's the one that, if you didn't know him, you'd say he's a thug and he chose that life and good riddance, or some other nonsense. He's the gangster that sells drugs and robs people and does all of those awful things. But before that, he was a sweet little boy in my 3rd period class who brought me candy and cried in my room when his father died.
Sometimes the sadness is so overwhelming that I can't cry.
On May 7, 2013, I went to Chipotle because they were giving teachers free burritos. I saw a former student there. He was one of my original babies who caused everyone so much grief, but I loved him with my whole heart. He was there with his teacher. She said he had been voted Most Likely to Succeed. He was going to college. He was amazing and she couldn't believe all the stories of his middle school antics. Gang life? No way! Not this guy. He stays late for study help, he leads his classmates to do the right thing. I cried in Chipotle.
On May 7, 2013, one of my babies was murdered. He had been middle school best friends with the student I saw in Chipotle. He got involved in gangs and he never got out. I saw what was happening to him but I didnt know how to save him. It's like watching somebody drown but no matter what you do you can't get out there to throw the rescue line.
He was funny and he was smart and he sang to me on my birthday and they didnt even put his name in the paper. He was just a 19 year old shot on Greenmount.
He's the one that, if you didn't know him, you'd say he's a thug and he chose that life and good riddance, or some other nonsense. He's the gangster that sells drugs and robs people and does all of those awful things. But before that, he was a sweet little boy in my 3rd period class who brought me candy and cried in my room when his father died.
Sometimes the sadness is so overwhelming that I can't cry.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Blog 2: Return of the Blog
I know its July and this is a teaching blog. I also know I haven't written here in over a year. I think I'm gonna start it back though. I'm going to a new school. I'm going to be a part-time teacher and part-time counselor. We'll see.
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