Aardvark is the pseudonym for a second-year high school English teacher in the Bronx.
Michael stares blankly at the sky blue wall. His eyes glazed, his head cocked to one side, a spittle of drool works its way down the corner of his mouth. Catcher with a Glass Arm by Matt Christopher rests unopened, lifeless on his desk.
Michael and I used to have a good rapport. Then his classes were changed. He was still in my class, just with a different group, at a different time of day.
A 9th grader by credits, though the majority of Michael’s cohorts have moved on to 10th. Michael has an IEP, and he is a low level reader in both English and Spanish. I run a ramp-up style program modified for English Language Learners (ELL). Therefore I teach the seven habits of good readers, and we spend the first 20 minutes of each class reading silently. This is especially important because the students in each class span a wide range of reading levels. Additionally when the students take the English and History Regents, they will need to read quietly for long periods of time. This custom of reading at the beginning of class helps build their stamina.
I know not every student enjoys these moments of silence. However it is a mandatory part of the learning experience. The students get to select their own reading materials. Out of all three of my classes, Michael is the only student who refuses to read. It wasn’t always like this.
He used to show up early to class, open The Daily News and appear to be content. Sometimes I would sit next to him and we would read small parts of an article. Granted his comprehension was low, but at least he was trying and even better it seemed he was progressing. This was last year. Then his classes were switched. I noticed an immediate change. He didn’t want to do his work anymore. He became somehow convinced that I was responsible for the change and insisted on staring blankly at the wall for entire reading periods.
Since this change last year, we have had moments of light reading, but the following day he is back to the blank wall stare. Last Friday only a handful of students showed to my last period class. I had previously decided to go to the library, though I hadn’t told the students. Michael was one of the many who had decided to start the weekend early. To my surprise, when we arrived at the library, I found Michael and his friends hanging out there. How ironic I chuckled and decided to play it cool. “Hey Michael, I’m so happy you decided to meet us here.”
He looked confused, then played along, “Yea mista I decided to meet you here.”
“Great, that’s perfect.” I was hoping to ride this out a bit. “Come let’s find you something interesting to read during silent reading next week.”
I wondered if Michael would be more excited about reading in Spanish, his first language. I really wanted to break down the stigma of reading. If he could start to enjoy reading in one language, he might open up to reading in general.
We picked out a couple of books, one entitled Troy, which had pictures of Greeks ferociously grappling for dangerously enchanting Hera. Another book Michael selected, entitled Tormentas, was about natural disasters. It featured a dramatic crack of lighting on its dark cover. I was excited by this selection because it related to our mini-unit on global warming and general weather patterns and terminology.
That Sunday night I slept easy. Monday flew by, and when the last period block rolled around I was excited. Finally I was going to reach this kid. Michael was going to start reading. But to my dismay it was another day of blank stares as the book lay spine splayed on the sticky desk, Michael’s eyes distant and glazed burned holes in the faraway blinds.
