Jorgensen was a K-8 school, and the 7th- and 8th-grade classrooms were designated along one row at one end of the school. We each had a homeroom, but then classes switched all day as we taught our particular subjects. I was the math teacher. There were five classrooms, and mine was one room away from the end. The room on the end was another 7th-grade class helmed by Carrie Bridges (another TFA corps member). Carrie was a charming and rather attractive black woman who taught science. On the other side of my room was one of two 8th-grade classrooms helmed by Mr. Dolata who taught social studies. Next to him was the other 8th-grade class taught by Ms. Cuzzocreo. I struggle to remember what she taught. Maybe history or health? Finally, on the other side of her was the third 7th-grade class taught by Ms. Arieno who taught language arts. Ms. Arieno, Miss Bridges, and I were new to the school. Ms. Cuzzocreo and Mr. D. (isn't there always a Mr. D?) had been at the school for many years. There was roughly an equal number of students between 7th and 8th grade, which meant the 8th-grade classes were larger than the 7th-grade glasses. At full capacity, the 8th-grade classes had up to 35 students, while the 7th-grade classes may have had 23-25.
I didn't sleep well Sunday night before my first day of class on Monday. I was as prepared as I could have been, but it was still intimidating having a classroom all my own. Sure, I had fellow teachers to lean on, but once that door was closed, it was just me and 25-30 students.
One of the first tricks is learning all their names. You're not going to earn much respect barking out "hey you" all the time. As I stood in front of the class, I sketched out the tables and took notes as I had each student introduce himself/herself. I had to learn names quickly because students tend to roam around unless you assign seats (which I eventually did to eliminate problems).
I proceeded to hand out a packet titled "Mr. Wilson's Classroom Rules." I'm sure I still have a copy of it somewhere. The idea was to set the expectations right upfront. Here is how my class works. Here are the ground rules and the consequences if you don't follow them. This was one of the crucial tools we learned at the Institute. I had a teacher's aide translate the rules into Spanish because many of my students only knew English as a second language, and many of their parents only spoke Spanish. I had taken three years of high school Spanish and one year in college, but I was not fluent. I taught class in English, but when possible I had worksheets, quizzes, and tests translated into Spanish.
At the beginning of the day, my homeroom 7th graders were only in my class for attendance, the Pledge of Allegiance, and announcements. After that, I faced the 8th-grade classes, one after the other. This is when I first observed the difference between 7th- and 8th-grade students. For the most part, 7th-graders are immature and silly. In other words, they fit my sense of humor exactly. 8th-graders, on the other hand, were more reserved and defiant. You tell most 7th-graders to do something and they do it. You tell 8th-graders the same thing, and some will and some will resist or flat-out refuse. Something happens during that summer between 7th and 8th grade that makes the 8th-graders too cool for school. It didn't help that 8th-graders were top of the food chain at the school.
In the first few months, I observed an interesting exchange. One of my 7th-graders had taken the football that Mr. D kept on his desk and was throwing it around during recess. Mr. D. was none too pleased, and he came outside and told the kid to give him the football. Instead of complying, he threw the football to his friend. Mr. D. walked right up to him and put his face within an inch of the kid's face and literally began screaming at him. "When I tell you to do something, you do it! You hear me, boy!? Now bring me the goddamn football!" All the kids in the area immediately froze. I was standing there shocked as well. Mr. D. received his football in short order.
At the Institute, we were taught all the "professional" and "acceptable" ways to deal with kids and discipline them when they misbehave. We were never told to do what Mr. D. did. In fact, that would have been very much frowned upon. The problem with the area and these kids is that many of them do not have discipline at home. It's not that they are good or bad kids, but without structure, they will run hog wild.
There's a phrase in teaching: "Don't smile 'til Christmas." I had heard the phrase but never understood it until I learned it the hard way. When I started teaching, I was respectful and polite with kids. Please do this. Would you mind not doing that? Unfortunately, many kids take this as a sign of weakness. Once they figure it out, you can't go backward. You can't just show up one day and pretend to be a hardass because they already know how you operate. Once you make this tragic realization, you discover that you're stuck dealing with issues every day for the remainder of the year. "Don't smile 'til Christmas" means you have to start the year as a hardass. Don't try to be the cool teacher. Rule with an iron fist until you get to a point where you can relax. You can lighten up and then tighten up if you need to. If you start any other way, you're going to have a miserable year.
Another key event that happened within the first few months is that Principal Flores was replaced by Dr. Warren. I don't think we were ever given an explanation. One day, Dr. Warren showed up and signaled that there was a new sheriff in town. Little did I know that his appointment would eventually lead to me finishing out the year at a different school.
I didn't sleep well Sunday night before my first day of class on Monday. I was as prepared as I could have been, but it was still intimidating having a classroom all my own. Sure, I had fellow teachers to lean on, but once that door was closed, it was just me and 25-30 students.
One of the first tricks is learning all their names. You're not going to earn much respect barking out "hey you" all the time. As I stood in front of the class, I sketched out the tables and took notes as I had each student introduce himself/herself. I had to learn names quickly because students tend to roam around unless you assign seats (which I eventually did to eliminate problems).
I proceeded to hand out a packet titled "Mr. Wilson's Classroom Rules." I'm sure I still have a copy of it somewhere. The idea was to set the expectations right upfront. Here is how my class works. Here are the ground rules and the consequences if you don't follow them. This was one of the crucial tools we learned at the Institute. I had a teacher's aide translate the rules into Spanish because many of my students only knew English as a second language, and many of their parents only spoke Spanish. I had taken three years of high school Spanish and one year in college, but I was not fluent. I taught class in English, but when possible I had worksheets, quizzes, and tests translated into Spanish.
At the beginning of the day, my homeroom 7th graders were only in my class for attendance, the Pledge of Allegiance, and announcements. After that, I faced the 8th-grade classes, one after the other. This is when I first observed the difference between 7th- and 8th-grade students. For the most part, 7th-graders are immature and silly. In other words, they fit my sense of humor exactly. 8th-graders, on the other hand, were more reserved and defiant. You tell most 7th-graders to do something and they do it. You tell 8th-graders the same thing, and some will and some will resist or flat-out refuse. Something happens during that summer between 7th and 8th grade that makes the 8th-graders too cool for school. It didn't help that 8th-graders were top of the food chain at the school.
In the first few months, I observed an interesting exchange. One of my 7th-graders had taken the football that Mr. D kept on his desk and was throwing it around during recess. Mr. D. was none too pleased, and he came outside and told the kid to give him the football. Instead of complying, he threw the football to his friend. Mr. D. walked right up to him and put his face within an inch of the kid's face and literally began screaming at him. "When I tell you to do something, you do it! You hear me, boy!? Now bring me the goddamn football!" All the kids in the area immediately froze. I was standing there shocked as well. Mr. D. received his football in short order.
At the Institute, we were taught all the "professional" and "acceptable" ways to deal with kids and discipline them when they misbehave. We were never told to do what Mr. D. did. In fact, that would have been very much frowned upon. The problem with the area and these kids is that many of them do not have discipline at home. It's not that they are good or bad kids, but without structure, they will run hog wild.
There's a phrase in teaching: "Don't smile 'til Christmas." I had heard the phrase but never understood it until I learned it the hard way. When I started teaching, I was respectful and polite with kids. Please do this. Would you mind not doing that? Unfortunately, many kids take this as a sign of weakness. Once they figure it out, you can't go backward. You can't just show up one day and pretend to be a hardass because they already know how you operate. Once you make this tragic realization, you discover that you're stuck dealing with issues every day for the remainder of the year. "Don't smile 'til Christmas" means you have to start the year as a hardass. Don't try to be the cool teacher. Rule with an iron fist until you get to a point where you can relax. You can lighten up and then tighten up if you need to. If you start any other way, you're going to have a miserable year.
Another key event that happened within the first few months is that Principal Flores was replaced by Dr. Warren. I don't think we were ever given an explanation. One day, Dr. Warren showed up and signaled that there was a new sheriff in town. Little did I know that his appointment would eventually lead to me finishing out the year at a different school.