I Don't Do Tuesdays..

Yesterday, I almost cracked. I've been one of the strong ones up to this point; hadn't shed a tear, threatened to quit, slapped a kid around, nothing but constant smiles and placid compliance. But yesterday damn near undid all of that character building...because yesterday, standing in class, I actually blacked out momentarily and saw a clear visual of me launching a desk across the room, followed by the student sitting in it. My class is usually pretty rowdy, but I prefer to view them as spirited...spirited little smart asses who are wittier than most adults I know. I love them, I know them, I understand them, they trust me and the environment I've lost a lot of sleep building. But classroom culture is a fragile thing, and we live in a glass house. The eb and flow of an inner city classroom is frustrating, yet out of my control. Kids come and go constantly, and it's hard to keep my student's world consistent. They hate change, they know it all too well. So yesterday, when 5 new students barrelled into my room mid-lesson, everything went haywire--you could feel the mood switch. These 5 boys have been in "resource" math (special education) for the first 3 weeks of summer session. Since the charter school I am working at has an inclusion policy that applies to all special needs students, it is required that learning or behaviorally disordered students be included (at some point) in general education classrooms...even if that inclusion happens one week before the end of the term.

Daiquan, Ahmad, Richard (pronounced ri-shard), Douglas, and Kevin were all showing an aptitude for math in their resource class, so their teacher decided they should try out the general edu. math class: MY math class. There are decidedly lower math students in my everyday remedial class; my 5 new special edu. students however, bring a new challenge to the table: undefined behavioral disorders; I have no idea what they are, although I can now make some pretty accurate educated guesses, and I have yet to receive concrete information from anyone telling me what I am supposed to do with these kids 3 weeks into the 4 week term But there they sit (or, as it so happened, roll aound on the floor), attitudes and all, and I have no choice but to make it all work somehow. My personal challenge goes by the name of Daiquan, the shiniest gem of them all. Daiquan, from minute 1, was dishin' out the sass. "This is stupid," "I'm not doing that," "What are you looking at?" Blatant disrespect, directed at me, for all of the other students to see... Like I said, the repore I've built among my students and them among each other is extremely fragile; one variable changes and the whole thing goes to shit. After the first 5 or 6 outbursts from Daiquan, the class erupted. Yelling at each other, yelling at me, yelling at Daiquan, and completely checking out of whatever math objective I attempted to teach yesterday. It was a mess and as I was visibly shaken, it became harder and harder to reign in my riled up students. Executive decision time. I stopped trying to force-feed them math and started teaching them very explicitly about appropriate social behavior.

I raised my voice at them for the first time... and probably for no other reason than genuine shock and curiosity, they listened. I sent the root problem, little Daiquan, into the hall to await his reckoning as I addressed the others. I explained that more important than learning Algebra this summer, they were going to learn how to be young adults, how to respect each other, how to respect authority, how to invest themselves, how to become a catalyst for change, how to have integrity, and pride, and humility, and self-worth, and how to do that, be that not only inside my classroom but in every part of their lives. Because it is the harsh reality that you are failing, I told them, and not because you are not capable, but because you are self-destructive. Don't tell me you can't help it, because I don't buy what you're selling. Silence. I reiterated very clearly what I expected of them behaviorally and academically, told them tomorrow was a new day, a fresh start, do with it what you will, and sent them the hell out of my ravaged classroom. Daiquan was a wily one, but a private viewing of my well-rehearsed teacher face in the hall shaped him up real quick. I wasn't sure how I left things, if the kids would hate me, if they had heard what I said at all, but I simply gathered my things and left the room in shambles. At lunch that same day, I was eating outside with some other 7th grade students, not my own (we were giving each other the silent treatment), when one of my sharpest, sneakiest kids came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. "Ms. Miller," he said, "I'm sorry we were so disrespectful today...it's just, I don't really do Tuesdays...so maybe Tuesdays are just a bad day for everyone else in the class too." I was confused..thanks for the apology, but what kind of excuse is that? I don't do Tuesdays? That's a first..
As it turns out, Tuesdays are the days this particular student does not stay at home...and I'll just leave it at that. Many days, my kids overwhelm me; but when it comes down to it, they're just tiny people; tiny people with real problems and real stress and more baggage than most of us 2, 3, 4 times their age could only dream of... So they're allowed a rowdy Tuesday every now and again, because I don't, nor will I ever understand their battles.

To conclude Tuesday's saga, my kids were nothing short of amazing today. All but 2 scored 100% on their quiz (the other 2 were 80%) and they were once again the sweet little angels I know and love. I survived my first terrible Tuesday and comeback Wednesday; who knows what Thursday will bring.

Love you all. Seek first to understand.
Talk to you soon...