A miracle worker, I am not, although my students often act blind, deaf, and dumb while I’m teaching. In the newly released film, “Freedom Writer’,” Hilary Swank’s character sees herself as “The Great White Hope” that inspires and instructs and impacts her students. Hollywood has made many movies under this formula of the idealistic hero-teacher saves the inner-city students and head-butts the system. Fortunately, I never bought into this propaganda. Starting out as a teacher, I was well aware of a system fraught with problems so deep that one person could not change it. I did not see myself as the person who comes into a classroom and stands and delivers. I knew about “social promotion” and kids getting funneled through the system and into the next grade without the skills and knowledge necessary. I had seen students that should have failed their grade move onto the next grade by just attending summer school. I could see how this all came to a head in ninth grade when the kids with only 6th grade skills who were greased through the system had to pass the Regents Exam. I was not going to become a ninth grade teacher. I was not going to be the teacher responsible for the errors and failings of other teachers who had passed the buck. No teacher or principal wanted to fail a student for political reasons and quite frankly, because they didn’t want to have such bad kids back for another year. But was that the intention of “No Child Left Behind?” Shouldn’t we have left these children behind to get a real education?
I have a child, who at the beginning of the school year had a C average in math. He didn’t try, he was indifferent and didn’t care about math or school. He was one of the class troublemakers. He would sass back to me and flirt and talk with all the girls when he came into the classroom and during the lesson. He missed homeworks and gave lame excuses for not doing it. I would see him in his afternoon science class when he had been absent in my morning class. I’d catch him cutting my class. One day, “Joey” was absent from my class on a Friday, which had been established as quiz day, so he missed the quiz. After this class, I had a prep, so I left the building to get a cup of coffee. As I was leaving the building, at the school’s entrance was a cop car and two police officers, one flanked on each of Joey’s arms. I asked the officers, “That’s my student, what did he do?” “We found him in the park. He’s truant.” I said, “Yes, I know, he just cut my class and he missed the quiz.” The cops escorted Joey into the school. Later, when I returned with my coffee, the cops and Joey were in the principal’s office. The principal called the parents and Joey got a slap on the wrist – no detention, no real consequences. So Joey had some behavioral problems and it didn’t help that the administration was not following through with a discipline code.
Lately, Joey has been actively participating in class. He raises his hand, asks tough questions, contributes explanations and volunteers to do the Do Now on the board. Somehow, somewhere, along the way, my wayward rebel student had become my star pupil. He scored the second highest test on an official standards-based New York State Math Practice test in his class. He can solve algebraic equations in one variable and figure out all the angle measures formed by two parallel lines cut by a transversal. I don’t know how this happened, his success slowly emerged before my eyes, he was blossoming as a mathematician. Once he could solve an algebraic problem, he took of like a rocket. He had gained confidence that yes, algebra, was within his reach, it was not something to be feared. And he was more than happy to demonstrate his new-found skills.
The other day, I gave a homework worksheet on the Pythagorean Theorem at the end of class. Joey was solving all the missing sides of a puzzle of right triangles that formed a rectangle. As a bonus, once all the sides of the right triangles were solved, the area of the rectangle could be solved. I announced that class was over and it was time to pack up and go. I heard a voice, “Wait, I’m almost finished!” It was Joey. “Okay, one more minute,” I said, “I don’t want you to be late for your next class.” He quickly found the area and finished his homework and handed it to me, “I think I got it right, is it right?” I smiled. I had won! I had won one recalcitrant student on my side! I had converted him into a mathematician! He was learning and enthusiastic about it! I had succeeded as a teacher and he was proof that I am a good teacher – I can make a difference. Just like Joey, I was gaining confidence – I can do this. Teaching is within my reach. And all the crap that had happened to me my first year as a teacher didn’t matter to me anymore. I had won, one child at a time.
