A Day in the Life of a Middle School Teacher

Perhaps I'm just not that good at it. It's only my fourth year. They say it takes practice.

I am standing at the door of my classroom. It is 7:24am in Los Angeles, and my homeroom students are trickling in listlessly.

"Good morning. Please get your book out." I say to each group as they wander in. "Good morning, please get your book out. Good morning, please get your book out."

I say it about 10 times. It is school policy to use the 20 minutes of homeroom for silent reading, to set the right tone for a day of schoolwork, and add to the amount of time they spend during a day reading rather than watching YouTube, listening to iPods, playing with Gameboys, etc.

They stand for the Pledge, only because I went off on them like a bomb when they failed to do so at the beginning of the year. Even then it was a three week struggle to teach them not to flop back into their seats with a contemptuous sneer even before the "and justice for all."

Now that they are seated again, they are talking to each other, ignoring my directive to please begin reading. Only 8 of 32 students actually have their book out. I go around urging each one by name, and thanking those who have done so, also by name. I have found that barking orders at the group avails nothing. They do not recognize that anything I say is directed at them unless I stare them in the eye and say their name.

I can't without written parent permission given 24 hours in advance. If the child fails to bring back the signed note, I am stymied. I try calling them. The number is disconnected, or there is no one home. I send home another notice. The child fails to bring it back, explaining that mom works and no one is home and she doesn't speak English anyway and besides, he lost the note.

Counselor sends them back with a note saying that they have been "counselled." Child smirks as he hands it to me.

There are byzantine paths I can trudge down to finally get children to pay 20 minutes of their lives to me for failing to get out their book for homeroom, but I don't have the energy for that because this is nothing compared to the resistance and apathy I'll face in actual classes. I'm saving my powder. I nag and urge them to get out their books until finally they do, and silence falls.

Now I can take attendance. The minute my eyes are off them the whispering and giggling starts. I stare them down a few times and eventually they dissolve into sullen silence. Books in their hands, they stare defiantly off into space. Never mind I let them pick out whatever book they wanted, provided by the tax-payer, at the library. Could be Harry Potter. Could be WWF. Could be Goosebumps. Only four of the students read. The others mark time, prefering to waste 20 minutes rather than read for pleasure. They'll do anything to avoid reading. They hate the written word with a passion. By the time homeroom is over, I am depressed, because they are our Nation's future.

Now comes my 8th grade English class. We are reading Bud, Not Buddy because it's one of the few books earmarked for 8th graders. It's about an orphan boy in Depression-era Michigan searching for his real father. At one point Bud meets a Union organizer. He is the good guy. The cops harass him because they are bad people who want to make sure the poor stay poor, we learn. That's what anti-union people are like, you see. I hate this book but they've already read Freak the Mighty, Jade Green, and The Outsiders, so I'm pretty much down to this.

Most of them read at the 4th grade level. For this district, that's pretty good. My ESL classes are at the 2nd grade level.

I say, "Before we begin reading today, let's review what we've read so far. Please take out your notes from yesterday." Four children take out their notes. Three children take out iPods and try to sneak them on. They thread the earphones up under their shirts, sneak in one earpod, and hide it with their hand as if resting their heads on their hands. The girls cover the pods with their hair. I wonder how they can afford iPods when they are all on subsidized lunch. Then I realize, oh, that is why they can afford iPods.

I catch them and ask them to put the iPods away. I would confiscate them, but the administration has warned us that if we do and we lose it or it's stolen, we have to pay the child's parents to replace the iPod. It's happened once already to a first year teacher, so I don't risk it.

Again, the children seem only vaguely aware that I am speaking to them when I say "Take out your notes from yesterday." So I walk around the room. "Thank you, Wendy. Thank you, Michael. Thank you, Jose." Then what I call the second-tier students come awake and take out their notes. I thank them too. Finally I am down to the last six who flatly refuse to do anything until I look them in the eye and say, "Aron, can you take out your notes from yesterday? Are you sure you lost them? Can you open up your backpack? Open it up. Unzip it. Good. Now look in there. What about that folder? Pull it out. Let's see. There they are! Good!"

Second period is Intermediate ESL. There are Asian students in this class. One Korean girl, two Thai, one Vietnamese, as well as an Indian girl, a boy from Sri Lanka, and a girl from Cambodia. There are also four Armenians. "Please open your books to page 146," I say. The Asians and Armenians open their books to page 146. The rest of the students, who are Hispanic, ignore me, turn to their friends, and begin chattering. I repeat my usual performance, "Thank you Min Sun, thank you Nafisa, thank you Narek, thank you Ruzanna..."

After much struggle, the Hispanic students finally open their books. A few of the Hispanic girls show signs of making an attempt to do their work. They are rare, and have a tendency to sit alone. Other students tease them.

We are reading about how racist whites victimized African-Americans during the Great Migration. Then we'll read more about slavery and segregation.

Now it is time to do our worksheets. The Asian and Armenian students listen attentively to the directions, ask questions, and then get to work. They are almost competitive in their desire to do well. One Armenian boy and the boy from Sri Lanka fall over themselves in their haste to beat the other and bring me their paper for inspection.

Most of the Hispanic students return to their gossip, except for the few ostracized girls who struggle to figure out how to fill in the blanks.

These scenes are repeated throughout the day. After school, we have an administrative meeting to find out how our API scores for 2007 were. I think it stands for Annual Proficiency Index. I'm half-dead from six hours of struggling with the inertia that is most of my students, but I look at the data they present.

The information is broken down by ethnicity. The White students are 50% proficient. The Filipinos are 51%. The Asians, despite the fact that most of them have only been in the country for a couple years, are at 61%. Blacks and Latinos are at 22%.

"What are we doing wrong," we are urged to ask ourselves, in looking at the scores for the Blacks and Latinos. "What should we give them, how do we help them access the material?"

All around me, teachers suggest programs, graphic organizers, smaller class sizes, etc, etc, until finally, an older woman points out quite brusquely that certain subgroups are doing fine and are being given all the same things that the non-achievers are given, and no more.

Immediately, the principal seeks to lead us away from this kernel of truth. "Research shows," she says insistently, "that effective classroom teaching overcomes cultural habits that aren't conducive--" She says it again "Research shows it."

What research, I wonder. Whose research? Research funded by whom? Conducted by whom? Greenpeace? Hampton-Brown employees ready to sell us another set of Highpoint books?

My Advanced ESL students must spend three weeks learning how Roosevelt saved America from the Great Depression using the New Deal. Then they have to write a paper about it. Are those the folks conducting this research?

Well, perhaps she's right. If I were just a better teacher, my Hispanic students would not bring the iPods the taxpayer bought them to school. And they'd be more interested in all those stories about unions, segregation, slavery, and the New Deal. It's all about how much better a teacher I could be, and should be. That is what we are here to discuss, that is the only acceptable way of looking at this data. So that is what we do until 3:20pm, when we are finally free to hear from our union organizer, and then return to our rooms and plan for tomorrow. Let's see, let me look at the materials I have been given to teach from. Maya Angelou, Gary Soto, Langston Hughes... in the hallway, one teacher opines loudly that if selfish taxpayers would give more, we'd have the materials we need to reach these students.

Ah yes, I think. That's what the students need. 40 gameboys and a cellphone. And an iPod in every backpack.

My suggestion to you...run for your life.

Won't work. America tried that in the '50s, '60s, and '70s. All that happens is that the place you run to ends up getting ruined.

Stand and fight for the cities!

Wow, I could have written this a few years ago my self. I spent 5 1/2 yrs getting a history/education certification degree and taught 2 yrs in a NJ high school. I had a horrible experience, and I was 51 at the time. I shudder to think what this country will be like when these sorts are out in the real world. I was very discouraged with teaching. Good luck with you. The only fun I had was monitoring the hallway and asking boys if they had washed their hands when they came from the bathroom. It was amazing how many felt obliged to show me their clean hands.

It's funny, the things that can still make you smile, huh? The other day I was trying to explain the word "radiant" in the context of someone whose face was radiant with happiness. I said, "Brides are often called radiant... when people are really happy, or really excited... like the first time you fall in love, you might be radiant, or the first time--"

And this really cute litle girl broke in excitedly, "The first time you go bowling!!"

And she wasn't kidding, her face lit up like she was just floating with happiness. It was pretty funny. We all looked at her like, "Um, yes, Michelle, exactly. I guess."

Obviously you don’t teach.

That is correct.

However, I was married to a schoolteacher for 25 years. Both of her parents were schoolteachers for 30+ years, and her 3 siblings were schoolteachers for 25+ years.

Believe me, I have heard it all.

[sarcasm on]

The root cause of your problems is that you are trying to be a sage on the stage instead of a guide from the side. The research shows that all your classroom problems will be solved with the following surefire methods:

1) Put them in mixed ability groups at tables. No desks. Proximity promotes shared learning.

2) Stop giving lectures. Stop speaking from the front of the room. Stay on the sidelines like a coach.

3) Allow the students to reach inside and “discover” literature. Allow them to discover grammer, style, spelling and usage as well.

4) Let the room become noisy. talking is a good thing. It means they are sharing knowledge.

5) Allow the students to assess themselves.

60 Allow ipods. It helps the creative process.

[sarcasm off]

If you can go through this every day and take the time to write about, I can certainly take the time to read it. No need to thank me. But it is surely depressing.

I live in the district and should not be surprised. Let me tell you, you are up against more than Sisyphus was, because not only are the children spoiled but the parents are too.

Perhaps it is worth it to teach the few bright, eager pupils you have in your charge, but the “subject matter” stinks to high heaven. I’m sorry, LAUSD is hopeless, they trip over each other for the PC Prize. I’m surprised the schools even still display the U.S. flag and have the Pledge.

Maya Angelou... just the mention of that name is like fingernails on a chalkboard.

You are a far better woman than I am. I wouldn’t be able to take it, and I think the faculty meetings would be the last straw.

Back when I was going to school,only the top students took higher level Science or Math classes like Physics and Intermediate Algebra.
Now,these classes,watered down greatly,are required for graduation in most urban districts.
And 75% of the kids haven’t the slightest idea of the subject matter and are failing right and left.

Let me tell you, you are up against more than Sisyphus was, because not only are the children spoiled but the parents are too.

Most parents I meet are incredibly soft on their kids. Just today I spoke with a woman who noted sadly that every night she urges her son to read, but he won't because he only wants to play PSP.

And I'm thinking of my step-dad, who would tell us once "Go clean your room," and we would drop, and I mean DROP what we were doing and scuttle up to our rooms like cockroaches. Because if we didn't, he'd have warmed our butts without hesitation. Parents today coo at their children, "Why don't you do your homework?" and if the child doesn't want to, they walk away and shrug.

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.