Martin Luther King, Revisited

My attempts last week to create passion and meaning from the Martin Luther King holiday had fallen flat. I was flummoxed from dealing with teenage attitude in an 8-year-old. I was devastated by my student’s shockingly low test scores. The successes of the parent-teacher conference quickly receded to the background in light of new failures and challenges. Needless to say, I wasn’t thrilled to head into the new week.

But I took the time over the long weekend to complete some projects both for myself and for my classroom, and the lapsed time, as usual, did a great job to heal the hurts of the previous week. I have always told my students, “Tomorrow is a new day,” not really comprehending the meaning, but using a well-worn phrase as a motivation to improve. Now, I use it because I truly believe it—without it, I fear I would have been hindered by all the setbacks and perhaps relished the successes too much (odd, I know). Leaving the day before crossed off the calendar gives me the survival boost I need, and hopefully inspires my students to keep on trying. And this week, they tried.

I have finally figured out the secret to conducting after-school tutoring in a way that saves my sanity and proves a valuable use of an hour for the students. As soon as 2:45 hits, all pandemonium overwhelms George H. Oliver Elementary, and the students become impossible. Having to deal with these little monsters after that final bell has been one of the greatest trials, especially when my after-school kids tend to be my behavior challenges. But this week, I started using centers as a way to diversify what we cover and to hit more student needs while taking some of the pressure off me. We have started a new computer program called Kid’s College, which has turned out to be revolutionary in motivating even my lowest performers. I make sure to give each student some time on the computer while also giving them practice in math, fluency, and language arts. As the students jump eagerly from station to station, I sit back, keep the timer, and work individually as needed. All of a sudden, the worst part of my week has become my favorite. I love brainstorming new activities and lessons that I cannot feasibly pursue in a group of 27, but is perfect for working with 10, and I love the pressure-free environment to cover what interests us, not just what is tested at the end of the year. Several students had gotten into the habit of preferring another after-school teacher, but this week created such a buzz that I have to turn students away. And even better, the behavior expectations for getting to stay in my room are now extremely high. I had been planning on dropping the after-school tutoring next year, but now I think I will keep it!

The tutoring has also helped to pinpoint the discomforts I have with my teaching in general. I have never been quite satisfied or happy in the profession, but I had not managed to effectively articulate the causes. Now, I understand that I enjoy working with students less formally and in smaller groups. I want to have time to interact with the whole person, since the brain is not the only thing that desperately needs nurtured in these kids. I want their heads and their hearts in return for my own. In after-school, we get to do activities that are fun and engaging, which means I get to more directly trick my students into learning without them realizing it. I can do more when there are fewer students, and without the usual behavior conflicts, I get to relax and be myself a little bit more. Whenever I let my guard down during school, it usually backfires.

On Friday, my non-homeroom class was behind, and so I was using my Social Studies time to teach text features, a topic the other class had already covered. However, one of the first reading selections in our workbook was about Amelia Earhart, which was a perfect opportunity for me to mention phonetic spelling when trying to decipher the correct pronunciation of Earhart. Then a student had a question about the difficulty of pronouncing names, which led to a truly incredible tangent on a wide variety of topics (you know me, I LOVE tangents!). My students were thrilled that I indulged their curiosity about my own ancestry, illegal immigration, and even the rights of criminals. I got to talk about 9/11, Martin Luther King, the types of governments in other countries, why immigrants come to the United States, and the fundamental principles for which America stands. I became so passionate and so caught up in my explanations that one of my students stopped me in order to comment, “Ms. Cook, they should make you the next Martin Luther King.” The other students enthusiastically agreed. I was being unusually articulate, so I appreciated the compliment, but what energized me the most was getting to talk about all of the topics that are important to me, AND getting to say it to a truly enthralled audience of third graders. I rejoiced at their rapt expressions, and thanked the teaching gods for giving me one of those prized teaching moments that had eluded me the previous Friday. It turns out we cannot always ask for inspiration on our own schedule, but must celebrate them when they come, and then hold on to them for dear life during hard times.

The lesson paused when the front office announced, “Teachers, the principal needs your grade distributions immediately. Please stop teaching and send yours right now.” I had already submitted mine, so I excitedly sent a student to the office to convey that fact while I continued my best tangent ever. My parting comment to her was, “And tell them to leave me alone, because I am TEACHING!!” My students were in an uproar over my enthusiasm. Not two minutes later, they announced again, “We know you already sent it. You need to send it again!” I asked my students to wait patiently as I quickly completed this entirely stupid task, but the moment of true beauty had passed; my students had caught too much of my happiness and were out of control. Such moments, apparently, must always have their price. But I honestly would not trade it for anything, even if that means we are still behind heading into the new week.