There are twenty school days left in the year. Four short weeks until Summer--the opportunity to relax, recharge, and reset. For teachers, "the end of the year" is typically defined as the weeks following standardized testing, where the looming specter of accountability fades and the blissful anticipation of Summer vacation becomes apparent. Things are supposed to become more relaxed. Students, teachers, and administrators are no longer feeling the pressure of high-stakes testing, and everyone starts to shift focus to the next stage of life. For my 8th grade students, high school is right around the corner. For me, year two is within reach. These last few weeks should be a fun time--and opportunity to enjoy time with my students and close out the year with engaging lessons that don't necessarily have to be tied to arbitrary state standards. As one of my various teaching mentors told me a few weeks ago, the end of the first year is when many excellent teachers developed their best teaching strategies. They took risks and experimented in their classrooms. She encouraged me to do the same. Even as I sit here now, I want to have that experience. I want to walk into my classroom each day for the next four weeks and be innovative. I want my students to feel like science matters--like its something that actually relates to their lives, and not just a collection of content that will appear on an assessment. I want lessons to be engaging. I want to leverage students' strengths and interests. I want to harness the tremendous powers of technology. I want more of my students to look forward to walking into my classroom on a daily basis. Unfortunately, this is practically the opposite of what is actually happening in my classroom in these last few weeks.
Before I say anymore, I will readily accept responsibility for most of what happens in my classroom. I am doing what I can, but the bottom line is that I have made some mistakes this year that have led to the headaches I am experiencing now. These are things that I hope to correct or improve next year, though I am already trying to make changes in these last few weeks. However, the source of much of my current stress is largely out of my locus of control (or perhaps that's just a self-rationalization). I don't want this post to become a rant, and I don't want to direct too much negativity towards certain parties (students, parents, overworked teachers, overworked administrators). Nevertheless, I need to write for my own sanity--to project onto this page some of the anger, frustration, and fatigue that is washing over me. Writing is cathartic, and I hope that this post will both provide me some relief and also serve as a memory to look back on at a future time. We shouldn't forget times of adversity--they are often transformative periods and contain important lessons that we can harness to become better people.
My most pressing problem is that I feel I am being asked to deliver too much in too short an amount of time. Additionally, I don't always see a clear connection between the expectations of my classroom and actual student learning. 8th grade students recently finished taking their district and state standardized tests. High-stakes testing is worth another post on its own, and I won't say more here besides: these tests have contributed to the corruption of our school system and have taught our students to believe that their worth is defined as a single number. 4th and 8th graders are required to test in science, and while these scores aren't particularly important to students or administrators, they matter to my effectiveness rating as a teacher, and I felt responsible for preparing students to do their best on this test. At my school, 8th graders also take a placement exam that will hopefully land them in an honors science class as freshmen in high school. This test is very important to my school, and I think it matters to my students. As of today, less than 10% of them are slotted to be in an honors track next year. This placement exam is an opportunity to dramatically increase that number. In an ideal situation, the last few weeks would have been solely devoted to preparing them for that test. There is some content that differs from the 8th grade standards, which would need to be taught; but there is also content that needs to be reviewed from earlier in the year. This is not an ideal situation. In addition to this test, which is next Thursday, the school science fair is also next week. Our school has mandated that every single student needs to participate, meaning that I am responsible for guiding my students--most of whom never had a science class before this year--through this project in under two weeks. This has been the most epic disaster of my year. As of right now, I am expecting less than 10% of groups to have a completed project ready for the science fair. It wasn't as if I didn't see this coming--I went to administration early on and explained why this was an unreasonable burden for me and my students. I was told to devote a week of class time to the science fair, and that the rest should be completed by the students at home. Rule number one: in high poverty schools, don't expect much academic work to get completed outside of your classroom walls. It is wishful thinking to expect students to complete their science fair projects at home, especially with only limited class time available to provide the necessary modeling and support. Nevertheless, I have tried to make this happen. I set the expectation that the project needed to be completed mostly at home, and I've tried to help students as much as possible. I have neglected some of the time I would have used to teach new content to give them class time to work on their projects. As of about a week ago, I thought it would be workable. Sitting here on Thursday night, I now realize that disaster is imminent.
I haven't had a true instructional day in my classroom this week. Late last week, we were notified that our 8th graders had been "selected" to field test the new state standardized assessment, which is our shift to the common core. Basically, the district gets some money from the state and our 8th graders spend even more time testing. Instead of being in class, instead of learning, instead of working on their science fair projects, instead of doing SOMETHING beneficial, half of our 8th graders are sitting in the library TAKING ANOTHER TEST. Forget that they just had four days straight of testing; forget that this test isn't actually assessing them; forget that they have ZERO vested interest in it; forget that they already have all of these other expectations; lets WASTE THREE MORE DAYS testing, because we haven't wasted enough already. Then there was picture day. I had students ask me, "Do we even need to bring our stuff on picture day? Are we going to do any work today?" Honestly, as much as those questions irritated the hell out of me, I can't really blame them, because this is what they are accustomed to. Pictures took three entire periods to complete. Every single student was dressed up--there was zero concern for learning. I had a student attempt to straighten her hair in my classroom during homeroom. Students constantly came in and out from other classrooms. Everyone and their mother needed to go to the bathroom. Any attempts at structure were undermined by a lack of organization and foresight by administration and the photography company. It was a wasted day. Today, the day after picture day, was a field trip. By the grace of God we weren't leaving until 10am, so we would at least have time for one period of real instruction. Yet even that time was interrupted by continuous announcements and changes. It took me over 20 minutes to get through bellwork (normally would be 5-10) because of constant use of the intercom and a surprise announcement that every 8th grader needed to go to the cafeteria to punch in their lunch number. After first period, students went back to homeroom to wait before leaving for the field trip. We were supposed to leave at 10am. First period ends at 9:15am. Apparently they thought it would take 45 minutes to round up students to leave. 30 more minutes of instruction? Nah, let's just bag it and have them sit in the cafeteria. Then comes the announcement--"whoops, I guess we're actually leaving at 10:45". So we sit around for an hour and a half. Nobody seems particularly bothered by this.
This brings me to the question that I've heard from many different people. "Why can't you just let it go?" Honestly, it's a question that I've thought about a lot lately. Why do I focus on the negative? Why am I so worked up over lost instruction time? Why does the disorganization at my school bother me so much? Why do I focus on the handful of students making poor choices instead of the vast majority that aren't? These are all various forms of the same question, but that question is different from, "Why do you teach?" That question was answered long ago, and hasn't changed. "Why can't you just let it go?"-- this is a question about the margins. Why does that extra day matter? What's the harm in one hour of lost instruction? From a student's perspective, "Why can't I pack up my stuff five minutes early? Why should I keep working hard these last few weeks? Why should I put in the extra effort to do my very best?" I am not sure why these things bother me more than they seem to bother some of my colleagues. I am not sure how to get my students to care about the little stuff. On days like today, I am not sure whether I'm better off just going with the flow to save myself from the stress or trying to continue pushing the boulder up the hill. I have continually tried to keep pushing, but it's downright disheartening. It makes me hate my job on certain days. It makes me want to go home and sleep instead of plan. It makes me believe that my attempts to push the boulder up the hill simply aren't good enough--that as soon as I let go, that boulder rolls back down to the bottom. There are twenty school days left in the year. I just want them to be used effectively. Is that so much to ask?
