I am happy to say that the school year is officially over and I survived the semester! And, all but 9 of my students (of about 50) tested OUT of remedial reading and into regular or advanced reading and language arts classes for next year. I’m so proud of them!! Below are some of my most memorable moments from the semester—shocking, sad, hopeful, funny…Moments that, whether they encouraged me or discouraged me, made me cry or made me laugh, shaped my first teaching experience.
TCAP review question: “What are the three states of matter?”
Student response: “Texas.”
A student-created test question over Wolf Rider by Avi, a book my classes read: “What would you have done if you were in Andy’s shoes? (Andy’s the main character.)
Student response: “I would try to get in his sock (and) get out of his shoe when he take his shoe and his sock off.”
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By far my favorite story of the year is the day Quintin, who was one of those students that made you laugh and want to smack him at the same time, went up to another 7th grade teacher during passing time and said, “Ms. Neal, can I come in your class today, rip my shirt off, and just go crazy?” You can imagine what her response was. As it happened, Quintin had my class next. So as soon as the bell rang, he proceeded to rip his shirt off, swing it around over his head, and walk the catwalk down the center of the room, amid much laughter and applause from his classmates. I told him he wasn’t in a strip club, so he should put his shirt back on and sit down. I’m not exactly sure how I kept a straight face…
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One morning before school, I was standing with two of my fellow 7th grade teachers monitoring students as they went to their lockers, watching for tension that might lead to fighting. My colleagues were discussing a fight that had happened the previous afternoon. “I didn’t see that fight,” one teacher said. “I was in my own little private piece of hell.” We laughed almost uncontrollably at her apt characterization of her classroom—of each of our classrooms. It was one of those statements that so perfectly expresses the dismal reality of a situation that you have to laugh or you might just go crazy.
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One afternoon, as the result of an incident in the lunch room, two girls in my 6th period class, previously the best of friends, were not speaking to each other anymore. Of course, there was a fair amount of 7th grade girl drama involved in the situation, but the bottom line was that the girl who had been slighted needed to save face and had chosen the cold shoulder as her method. Thankfully, she was also one of the most sensible and grounded of all our 7th graders, and both girls trusted me by that point in the year. So the following morning before school started, I asked each of them if they’d be willing to talk about what happened, locked everyone else out of the classroom (much to the other students’ dismay), and facilitated a discussion. Within five or ten minutes, both girls had had the opportunity to express their feelings and give their perspectives on the situation, talk through the conflict, and decide to be friends again. I was glad to give each of them a chance to be heard (which they don’t often get), and to have the opportunity to model with these students an alternative way of resolving conflict.
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Shermesha, after the students had a substitute: “Why weren’t you here? We didn’t learn anything because you weren’t here!”
Result of Lockdown one day: $5000.00 worth of crack confiscated from a 6th grader.
Charmika, to another student who was being disrespectful during class: “Shut the &%#$ up! We don’t treat her like that anymore!” (You know you’ve conquered Jere Baxter when a student takes up for you!)
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Student responses to a writing prompt asking them to describe a day that stands out in their memories:
“One of my most exciting days I can remember is when I began the 7th grade. I was excited but time went slow the first 9 weeks. Then time sped up the second nine weeks of school. It felt like time paused the 3rd nine weeks. The Ms. Crisafulli came and that made time (feel) even slower until she gave us jobs. Now we are in the 4th and last nine weeks. And now the teachers deside to give us homework and I’m glad I am not going to this school next year. And hopefully time will go faster next year. This is my essay.” (Apparently I am the teacher who makes time stand still. Excellent.)
“They day I loved is when my mama let me get my belly button peiresed it hurt like a mother.” (That was the entire essay.)
“My bad day was when my daddy went to Jail, when I was 5 years old. That was a bad day for me because now I have to be try to be good, because my mommy real can’t raise a man. If he was out I would not get the way I do…That hurts me every day not to see him…” (From a very difficult student who is off-task and in trouble a lot. Gives a little insight into his world…)
Student describing camp: “We stay at EKU for one week. Then we take a Grey hound back. first we pack up all our stuff then we stay one more night. We got vans to ride around in Kentucky if we want to. We got tickets for parking close to the buildings, but we didn’t pay for them.”
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A note from Quintin, written in orange highlighter: “I’m sorry 4 the way I act.”
On one of the Monday mornings when the teachers had an inservice day (meaning students were off school), we noticed a 7th grade boy at his locker.
Student, looking around: “Where are all the other students?”
Teacher: “There’s no school for students today.”
Student, trudging back down the hallway: “Man, this happened to me last year too!”
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As we neared the end of school, some of my students began threatening me (“I can’t wait till the end of school—you’re life’s gonna be hell,” “I’m gonna beat your ass,” etc. They were threatening to egg our cars, throw water balloons in class, and whatever else they could think of.) On the second to last day, as the students—a group that particularly hated me—were preparing to leave class, they started talking about all the reasons they hated me so much. Laquan, though, said, “You’re a little extreme on the marks (meaning I’m strict), but you’re not so bad.”
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This is a true story. It was Sunday night in the last two weeks of school. My students and I had just suffered through reading Dickens’ A Christmas Carol (because they didn’t have a teacher at Christmastime and it was required). Have you ever seen the vocabulary in that book? It was nearly impossible for my students to understand. After watching the classic version of the movie, I planned to have them watch a contemporary interpretation called A Diva’s Christmas Carol, which I had picked up from the library. Then we would compare and contrast the book with the two versions of the movie. Good times at the end of the year, when everyone’s stir crazy. Unfortunately, I accidentally left my car window half-way down, with the video tape sitting in the passenger’s seat, one day and it poured. So here I am at 9:00 Sunday night, testing the video to see if it still worked properly. It didn’t. I searched the city for another copy but found none. I was tired and frustrated, out of time and with no other ideas. So, I took the video tape out of the VCR, laid hands on it and started praying in tongues (I’m serious). I commanded the thing to be fixed in Jesus Name, put it in my bag, and went to bed. The next day, it worked perfectly, and my kids loved it. Thank you, Lord!! He heals everything—even inanimate objects, apparently!
