Chapter 8: Thanksgiving and the Aftermath

Preparing for the week, a naggling thought in our hero's head niggles into the forefront: something must be written. THE BLOG! With a clatter of dropped pans, he dashes to his room, a mess behind him for future events. Time is of the essence: begin blogging...now!

Well, it's been two weeks since my last post. The first week was Thanksgiving break. Two quick stories from there:
1) The day before Thanksgiving is, essentially, not the day for the get it or fail lesson. So, I taught my kids how to sing a Spanish song: En la feria de San Juan. Imagine, if you will, a set of 31 seventh graders--one quarter going gara gara on their air guitar, another going pidi-pidi-piyo pidi-pidi-piyo on their pipes, another going bom-bom-bom-bom on their drums, and one more going chacka-chacka-chacka-chacka on their maracas. And I got 95% buy in on the song. It was unreal, and I wish that I'd thought to film it.

2) I gave blood for the first time. For those who don't know, needles are a) my worst fear, and b) the fear that I have the least control over. So, yeah, I was a nervous wreck--nearly fainted when I walked into the room--but I went through with it anyway. Do I feel proud of myself? Yes. Will I do it again? Maybe? I don't know, it all depends on where my life takes me.

Now, this past week was stunningly productive. I finished my practice edTPA (huzzah! I'm free, I'm free, I'm free...[suddenly realizing that I have my February learning segment due on Saturday morning] DANG IT!), and completely invented a new system to manage my classroom.

Let me explain!

...

No, that would take too long. Let me sum up:

I am in charge of two seventh grade classes. One--being particularly utilitarian--works perfectly with the curriculum. The other...well, they tend to get excited when someone else has a good idea, and then they like the next idea even more, and the next idea even more...it's like a perpectual motion machine of excitement that just keeps going up until they I've all but lost control.

Read: It doesn't work for them.

So what happened? Well, they essentially went into lock down mode to reset the class. They were given a vocab list to study for a quiz on Friday, a dialogue to memorize as well, and grammar based lessons, which they hated. (It also terrified the other class. I came in the day after we started with the grammar in the other class and they were paying the best attention I have ever seen. It was like a group of Stepford Wives looking out for a hoard of weeping angels. Thankfully, I was able to snap them out of it, but the first 10 minutes were pretty unnerving). And they did it. They hated it, and I hated it, but they did it, and it gave me time to develop something new. I did it because...well, the current system was setting them up for failure.

Oooh, a nonsensical graph! That makes complete sense.

Sarcastic captions aside, this graph is their behavior in October. 0 is basically asleep; 1 is focused, on task, and with good energy; and 2 is out of control. After the first 2, they got a seating chart, and we made a set of classroom agreements (theirs were stellar), and we agreed that if they could maintain them for 5 days (in other words, get a 1 for five days in a row) that they'd get class seating back.

They did not do that.

And, looking at the graph, they were never going to. Basically, every one and a half to two days, they'd have a meltdown and lose it. Once they figured out that they'd lost their streak, they would get worse.

In other words, the system was setting them up completely for failure, and as a teacher, I can't abide by that idea.

So, I invented something new...or, probably more accurately, I stole the basic idea from somewhere that I can't really remember, and changed it in a way that will help them kids succeed. Here's how it works:
As a group, they have a certain number of class points. ten and above, and they have free seating. Anything below that, and they start losing privileges. Anything negative, and we go to grammar classes.
So, how do they gain/ lose points?
Every day, they start with 2 daily points. This is the level that I expect them to be able to be at in order to basically succeed in class. If they exceed my expectations, then they can get 3 points (if they get 3s on consecutive days, then I start adding multipliers, up to a x3). If they start to slip, then their points can go down. Although the daily points are only added to the class points at the end of class, I can change my projection at any time. This means that, at any time, I can change the number to let them know that they are either doing an exceedingly good job, or that they need to step it up (minus points are only going to happen if anyone is out of control. Hopefully no one ever gets that bad again).
What do they get out of it?
Three things: First, they get their privileges back. Second, for every multiple of 25 they hit (and it's only once per number), they get a game day. Number three, on those same multiples, they get to pick out two props for me to wear ALL DAY. A chance to humiliate the teacher? I think I've got 'em.
Why is this system better than the old one?
Well, for one it's not an all-or-nothing system. As I said, with the previous system once they figured they weren't going to add to their streak (again, it was every few days) they would blow up a little bit. With this system, having a bad day doesn't completely sink their chances. In fact, it is specifically built with bad days in mind. Number two, there wasn't a whole lot of feedback that I could give to the class with the previous system, except, "I think you're getting a little out of control." With this system, they get constant feedback, and it's going to be easy for everyone to see just what the feedback is. Lastly, it is a system designed around setting them up for success.

And, at the end of the day, isn't that what teaching is about?

I mean, I get that imparting the information and being able to do the skills is important, but I feel that it's also important to remember just where the kids are going. 10 years down the line, I want my students to be able to still speak Spanish, but I also want them to be able to be successful adults. Amazingly enough--and hard to believe while in the daily trenches--but there is life outside of the classroom. It is both awesome and terrifying--like a deity who forgot to put on pants--but one day my students will be entering jobs, deciding on their next elected representative, and populating the globe. And I want them to be incredible at every single aspect of their lives--to make other people stare in amazement that such superb examples of human beings actually exist--and that includes spending some time to focus on the things in life that don't have to do with Spanish. And if that means spending the rest of my free time for student teaching finding a way to make each and every one of them successful, then so be it, at least I can say that in the brief six-month time I was part of their lives, I worked to make a difference. And that, dear reader, is the absolute least that I ever want to say about any of my teaching experiences!

This has been another adventure in the Austentatious--brought to you by a man who is too cheap to turn on the heat, and too cold to have proper dexterity. If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don't care either way, then tell everyone.

Peace out!