"It Don't Mean a Thing..."

Today, I flipped out for the first time. Like really flipped out.

That happened towards the end of the day, though. Let’s start from the beginning.

The day started off rather well. As I entered the school, I walked through the hallway singing Duke Ellington’s “It Don’t Mean a Thing” as I celebrated the onset of another Friday. Casual Friday. I strolled down the hall with my brown loafers, pink polo shirt, khakis, gray blazer, and a scarf casually wrapped around my shoulders. Moreover, I was sporting a new haircut. I looked good (opinion), I felt good (fact), and I was ready to teach (fact/opinion).

I began my instructional day working with a student in my Math 1 class. Most of the students were out of the class due to a JROTC ceremony in which they were participating; therefore, I was able to work mostly one-on-one with one of my students. My coteacher played the album, “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill” in the background, and the student and I were really making progress. The more we looked at the problems, the more confidence she had in herself and her ability to answer them correctly. “You’re smart, and you can do this,” I told her. “Math is just a series of steps, and you just have to break them down. Do that, and everything will be manageable.” As she nodded and kept working, I thought about my own high school math teacher who told me that I was actually good at math—I just lacked patience. It’s funny how words from so long ago can continue to inspire us and enable us to inspire others.

Next, I had physics. One of the kids saw my new haircut when I came into the classroom and said, “Mr. Seegars got a fresh cut!” I smiled. Then somebody else added, “You can’t say anything to somebody once they have a fresh cut…I’m getting me one after school!” I laughed as my co-teacher began the lesson.

So, physics. Today was one of those days in which I was in an amazing groove. Although, I have been in the class as a co-teacher since earlier in the semester, I felt a sense of comfort and command over what I taught today that I had not felt previously. I had students surrounding me as I explained how to manipulate equations for different variables. I quizzed the students as I urged them to apply their knowledge of kinetic and potential energy at higher levels of thought and analysis. It was so much fun.

Next was the planning period in which I enjoyed a meatloaf and mashed potatoes and gravy microwave dinner. It was absolutely fantastic. I did some paperwork during this time for some of the students on my caseload (special education stuff). Then it was time for the last period of the day:

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story of that period of the day skilled in all ways of contending. Sing to me of those students, who after lunch have become filled with sugar and salt and proceed to wander through the hallways and ravage the nerves of teachers with brutal savagery.

Today, I flipped out for the first time. Like really flipped out.

So, I was walking through the hallway with a student 15 minutes into the last period. I noticed a group of about 30 students making a lot of noise on the other side of the hallway. I had a lot of stuff to get through, so I just kind of glanced that way in order to see if it was a fight, but it did not seem like it; therefore I continued to walk back to my classroom.

Suddenly, I looked back at the crowd and I saw a student stretched out on top of a cart on his stomach as if it were a surfboard. Another student was pushing him while running at full speed—both were laughing and being followed along by the cheering and laughing crowd of students.

Immediately, I ran toward them screaming, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The person with the cart pushed it away from him (toward me), and began to run around and past me, just like the rest of the students. The student on the cart ran, too. I ran after all the kids, and zoned in on the kid who had been on the cart.

They ran through double doors, and I ended up grabbing the kid who had been on the cart. He then squirmed away, and took off in the other direction. I ran full speed behind him (still in loafers), while kids cheered, “RUN, RUN, RUN!” I was too upset to let him get away.

Finally, two other teachers stepped in the way and blocked him by the lockers, and when I caught up, I was furious. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, “ I screamed. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND??!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW DANGEROUS THAT WAS??!!” I was so upset that I hit the locker.

A battalion of teachers had finally reached the scene, and the hallways cleared up. The student was taken downstairs, but I was in a lousy mood for the rest of the day.

As I was about to leave school, ready for the weekend, one of my physic students saw me. “Have a good weekend Mr. Fresh Cut,” he said. I smiled, and told him to have a good one as well.

I whistled “It Don’t Mean a Thing” as I walked to my car, smiling between phrases.

In Defense of Extracurriculars

Oh, hey.

Teacher: “Does anyone know what macro means?”
Student: “Macaroni?”

There are many moments when students say things – funny things – and I hold my smile or laughter so as not to embarrass a kid or condone something that is inappropriate. This was not one of those moments. I laughed. The student smiled, and then laughed. Other kids laughed. And I laughed again. Then we moved on.

Today was exam day. Now, on the surface it does not seem that bad. I mean, most of the work takes place before the exam. In a perfect world, you backwards plan. That is, you write your unit plan and exam for that period before you actually teach it. In a not-so-perfect world, you plan your unit and have an exam in mind; however, the exam gets written a little closer to the actual exam date. Never mind that now…

Still, in both cases, the majority of the work seems to be done before students actually take the exam. Today proved to be different. My first period class had a study guide that was exactly like their exam. Exactly. I mean the same number of questions and same type of questions that were even in the same numerical spot. Needless to say, there was a drastic difference between the students that did the study guide and those that did not. They were not happy. I was not happy. We told each other. It was not fun.

In a different class, I also scolded students for not reading directions before their test. Maybe I would not have been upset had I not read the directions out loud twice. They were also written in bold font at the top of the test. So I was not in the mood to hear, “What am I supposed to do on the test?”—especially when it was in the same format of the assignments that we had been doing for the past few class periods.

By the end of the day, I was so tired that I was hoping nobody would show up to the mock trial team meeting. I rushed to go print out materials for the meeting and then went to the room. Starting with the last meeting, I now begin our gatherings with a teamwork and concentration exercise. The students have to close their eyes and count to twenty out loud as a group. Somebody must say “one,” then another, “two,” and another, “three,” and so on—all the way to twenty. The catch is that no two students can say a number at the same time. They have to be patient, calm, and attempt to vibe with their teammates. It is an exciting and relaxing exercise that I absolutely love.

Well, after about six tries, the students finally got it, and they were so excited! I was thrilled, too. We started going through the case, and we had great dialogue back and forth. I found myself smiling and laughing: leading the kids as their faculty advisor, but also enjoying myself as their co-conspirator in fun and learning. I was teacher, fellow teammate, mentor, and colleague all at the same time. I had a blast.

I love the kids that I teach during the day, but it is also great to work with students in a different way in extracurricular activities. When I was in high school, there were days when I may have had three different one and a half hour tests in one day. It is neither fun for the students nor the teachers. On those days, I looked forward to those activities about which I was most passionate: musical rehearsal, barbershop quartet practice, going over some scenes for the Black History production. Those lifted my entire day.

Today reminded me of how being in a productive environment – as I would categorize most useful extracurricular activities – outside of the normal classroom can keep us both sane and stable.

Note Fail

I wrote this note as a pass for a student to enter class late. Apparently, my handwriting is so bad that the teacher accused her of forging it, and I had to walk her to class...haha.

Apparently, I was also supposed to mark a date and time...

Hope Renewed is Strength Uncovered

“I’m too tired to work Mr. Seegars.”
“What?”
“I’m too tired. I’m not doing any work.”
“Umm, that’s not really an option. You are here to work, and I know you can do it.”
“You cannot tell me what my body can do.”
“Do you need to go to the nurse?”
“No. I just don’t want to work.”
“That is not going to work. You have 20 seconds to start writing before I start dialing.”

In my math study skills class, I had a student decide that he was having a bad day (at 9am, mind you), and that he did not feel like doing any work. That did not go over quite so well with me. After a number of measures that ended with him being removed from class for a few minutes and then brought in at the end of class so that he could hear me call his mother, he still refused to control his temper while I discussed with his mom possible days for him to stay after school for detention.

In the same class, I danced toward a student as her cell phone went off. The dance peaked at a smooth outstretching of my hand in order to collect the phone. At the same time, I was teaching students how to identify polynomials, and while trying to relate the term “poly” to polygons in order to help them understand the definition of polynomial, I heard a voice in my head saying, “What in the world are you talking about?” Yeah. I definitely could have planned that better. Luckily, I realized the students were not getting what I was saying, and I explained it in a different, more understandable manner. However, crucial time had already been lost.

As I went to go talk to a student on my caseload in order to gain some information, I walked into a classroom. When I stepped into the classroom, another student remarked with disgust, “I hate that man. He sent me to the office.” This was the guy who told me to shut up weeks earlier when I was standing in for another teacher. The teacher in the current classroom told him it was inappropriate for him to say that, and I just smiled and said, “Have a great day!”

Now, in my last period class, social skills, things got interesting. For the warm up, I asked students to explain their favorite extracurricular activity and why they liked it. After prodding some students to participate, one girl finally said she liked football the most. “Why? I asked. She smiled and stated, “Cuz the sexy boys are hitting each other.” Needless to say, I was slightly taken aback. “Ummm, we don’t need to say it like that, do we?” Her response: “I also like seeing those ugly boys get knocked around.”

“Okay, thank you very much. We are going to move on to the next person now.”

Then, the students were working on another exercise in which they had to list one social skill that they thought that they could improve upon as well as one positive thing about a partner. I asked them to share these with each other. Then, I asked them to say out-loud their positive statement about their partner. The funniest moment was when a girl said that her partner was handsome. At the time, he was combing his hair, so I told him that his looks, apparently, were not what he needed to work on. “Therefore, you can put the comb away, please. Thank you!”

He and I had a few moments that period. He decided he wanted to argue with people, so I had to move him into the “my partner” space. Basically, he had to sit right next to me. He had some words to express how he felt about that, and I just asked him to write them down so that I could read them later; whatever it was, I did not want him disrupting the class. He declined to write his comments down, citing that I might use them in court against him.

I still like the kid a lot. He has so much potential, and can really be involved sometimes. We are just going to have to figure out how to control that anger and the outbursts. It’s definitely doable.

After work, I had an observation review with my program director since she observed me today. It was very helpful, and, as always, I left feeling rejuvenated. I have a much better understanding of what I need to work on in order to lead my students to success.

Hope renewed is strength uncovered. I will get better.

Full Week Reflection

It has been a while since my last post. This past week was exhausting. It was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausting. So, not only did I feel like I did not have the time to write, but I also had difficulty being able to sit down and articulate my frustration.

It is good I waited until the end of the week to post.

The special education audit taking place took its toll on me this week. At multiple times, I was completely overwhelmed. It was not because the paperwork was too difficult; rather, I felt like it was more than I had bargained for. I heard that the paperwork for special education was a lot, but I could not have imagined how much it would be—especially because I have to go back and correct other people’s errors. On top of that, I still am not even completely sure how to fill out all the forms, and I still do not have my own account to complete things online; therefore, I have to use coworkers’ accounts. The catch: an account can only be logged onto one computer at a time. So when I want to use somebody else’s account, they cannot be using it at that time.

Furthermore, the exorbitant amount of paperwork takes me away from my students. The decreased time with my students has affected me the most. I know that they are not doing as well as they can without me in the classroom. Moreover, I know that I am not getting better as a teacher, since I spend so much time out of the classroom. I see other first year TFAers growing and improving at lesson planning, but I do not see the same growth in myself. So, yes, I am emotionally exhausted.

It is good I waited until the end of the week to post.

By the middle of the week, it was clear that the pressure of the audit was building, and there were tons of things out of my control taking place. I could not control how paperwork was handled before me. I could not control what the district wanted from me. I could not control when parents signed documents or returned phone calls. I could not control the fact that I could not get certain work done online because I still have not been completely trained in the program.

Stop, Lumumba. Just stop. Locus of control. What can I do? What is in my locus of control?

It is good I waited until the end of the week to post.

See, whenever I have difficulties, I usually stop to think of the TFA guiding principles: relentless pursuit of results, sense of possibility, disciplined thought, respect and humility, and integrity. I think about all of these each day, and every once in a while, one of them moves to the center of my thinking. This week disciplined thought did. With disciplined thought, I thought of my locus of control and began to crowd out all of my other negative thoughts.

All of that other stuff was true. It was frustrating. I was angry. I was annoyed. I mean, I am human. But I thought about what was in my locus of control. I thought about the fact that the audit is here, and it is taking place for a reason. I am here to serve these students, and they deserve to have special education teachers doing their paperwork properly. Okay, people have not been completely doing their jobs in the past. Well, it is my problem now. It is my job now. Fair? No, not at all. Is the achievement gap fair? No, not at all. Are some of the situations my students deal with at home fair? No, not at all.

It is good I waited until the end of the week to post.

The paperwork is not about me, it is about the students. I can do it now. I can get over this hump now. Soon, I will be back fully in the classroom. Then, I will keep struggling probably. But I will get better. I went to parts of my self contained classes this week, and I can already see some changes.

One student with whom I have had some trouble led the affirmation in my social skills class this Friday. He read it passionately. Afterward, he said excitedly, “Look at me read!” Yes, he can read. Not as well as he should. But he is going to get better. I am going to help him get better.

It is good I waited until the end of the week to post.

Reflection is essential. There is no way I could maintain a sense of possibility or positivity if I did not reflect on not only my actions, but also my mindset. My attitude is vital to my job performance. I cannot go through the day-to-day adventure of teaching and emerge happy without meditating on both what went wrong and what went right.

In my certification class this week, we talked about how we usually focus on negative things. This was the same class in which I spilled hot coffee all over myself, but will not dwell on that. In this class, we talked about the importance of looking at the positive things.

Even writing this post has been therapeutic. I feel better now. I am riding in the car on the way back from Nashville with Matt (my roommate). When I began the post, Matt asked me what was going to be the take home point of this post. I told him that I would vent my frustration with the audit process but then say that seeing the kids makes it all worth it. Matt, knowing very well how exhausted I was this past week, then asked me, “Was it really worth it?” “No,” I said, “But it made it bearable.” Matt answered, “Good, do not hyperbolize.”

Well, I am at the end of this post, and I can say that it is more than bearable, it is more than worth it. It is necessary. I am extraordinarily lucky to be able to work with these students. And even if I am not as much in the classroom as I hope to be right now – even if I am not as good of a teacher that I could be at this moment – these children are my motivation for getting out of bed each morning. If I have to complete a ton of paperwork right now so that they get the services they need, then I will concentrate on my locus of control and get it done.

Last week is over, and a new week begins.

Compassionate Anger?

I have been crazy tired this week, so I have not had time to talk about everything that happened; however, there are a few events I will highlight before I discuss my reflections on today’s events and the week as a whole.

• On Wednesday, the power in my school went out for about 45 minutes. The power outage began while the students were in the hallway going from their 3rd period to their 4th period classes. Needless to say, it was quite the mess. I felt like a real adult as I sifted through the hallway barking orders at students, telling them to slow down, stop running, and get to class.
• I have implemented a new strategy in my classroom consequences. Between being isolated and having a phone call home, students now have to write a one-page essay for me. I give them the topic. I explained to them that it is not punishment. Instead, their inappropriate behavior would be turned into a learning experience. So far, three people have essays. Their topics are Nat Turner, Sojourner Truth, and Benjamin Banneker. They do not know this yet, but I plan on discussing their essays with them afterward. Hopefully, learning about their history will help them to see beyond their own circumstances and have a different outlook on their own behavior.
• We had our first mock trial meeting! It seemed like the students were interested, and I am really excited about moving forward.

So, let’s talk about today. First, I was giving a test to some students. In the middle of a test, a student blurted out, “f*ck this.” Wow. So, I said, “excuse me, you need to come here.” Then other students—the ones around him who had laughed after it happened—said that he was asleep and that it was somebody else. Now, I was about 90% sure that he had done it; however, the students around him were trying to cover for him. So I asked, “well, who said that?” Then one student, trying to be brave, I guess, said that he had done it.

Let’s pause for a second. This class was one of my inclusion classes, and the general education teacher was not there today; therefore, there was another teacher—a sub—in the room at the same time.

Back to the story. So, I asked him again, knowing that I had an adult witness, if he had done it. He said yes. I took him outside, and asked him yet again. “Yes.” “Okay, let’s go,” I told him. So, we went down to the “infraction room,” and immediately he got nervous. Why? Because within two minutes of us being there, another kid was getting handcuffed in front of him. Yep.

Now, I knew he was not going to get handcuffed, but I was pretty sure that he was going to get suspended. When it was his turn to talk to the administrator, I described what happened. Then, he decided he wanted to say that he did not do it. I reminded him that he told me he did it, and I had an adult witness to back me up. “You told me you did it, so you are going to take the blame for it,” I coldly asserted. “Tell me who did it, and you can go back upstairs.” After the administrator actually started completing the form, he finally stated, “It was who you originally said it was.” I went back to the classroom, got the other student, brought him down, explained the situation, and he got suspended.

The student who originally was going to take the blame told him, “I can’t do this man; I’m already on probation.”

I appeared resolute at the moment, but in my mind and my gut I was terribly torn. I felt bad for him. I could tell he did not want to get into more trouble. The kids called him a snitch when he came back in the room. On the other hand, though, small behaviors like that (blurting out and cursing in class) with no consequence, lead to the type of behavior that got that other kid in handcuffs. I had to be firm.

I go back and forward—sometimes feeling angry at the actions of the students, and other times feeling sympathy for many of the trials they must endure. But I guess I can be hard on them and still care. Tough love, right? I am not always so sure. Sometimes, I get really angry. I just cannot believe some of the things students say to teachers, let alone each other.

When it comes down to it, I cannot choose between anger and compassion—both have a place. These students, like many other poor kids of color in urban communities, live in a reality plagued with ills both internal and external. They are afflicted by ills stemming from unforgivable elements of our own culture (the Black community) as well as entrenched disparities caused by persisting structural inequalities from the broader society.

I guess I get so angry because it is personal. I could have easily been in their shoes.

Good question

I woke up this morning at 2:30am with the lights on, realizing that I fell asleep with my computer and papers next to me. Confused and half asleep, I reset my alarm so that I could wake up earlier and get some more work done. Then, I put my things away, shuffled out of my clothes, turned out the lights, and fell into bed. Two and a half hours later, I pressed the snooze button—and then continued to do so for an hour. My body told me it was not accepting anything earlier than 6am.

Luckily, I bought a new coffeemaker this weekend! So, I stumbled out of bed, got my stuff together, and made a French vanilla roast. I decided to wear a suit so that I would feel good about the day—superficial, I know, but so helpful! If anybody watches “How I met your mother”, you know that “suiting up” can be a powerful mental tool!

A kid asked this question today: “Why do I have to listen to you if you are only 5 years older than me?” Good question.

We talked about position authority versus earned authority today in my social skills class. Position authority is when a person has “certain powers as defined by the source of the title” or the position he or she holds. Earned authority is “power granted by other members of the group” (“From School to Work” Littrell, Lorenz, and Smith, 2000, pg 183-84—I know this citation is bootleg, but, hey, I’ve been out of college for a while ☺).

Ironically, this lesson was planned before this student said the aforementioned comment earlier in the day. Fortunately, for the both of us, he had calmed down by that point and actually wanted to participate in class. We had a very productive, candid discussion about dealing with authority.

Originally, I was not happy that students found out how old I am. As evidenced by the student’s remark, I thought it would undercut my authority. However, as I taught the class about different types of leadership and authority, I learned a valuable lesson myself: I had to earn my authority.

See, I already have position authority: I am the teacher. I am in charge. I give out the grades. Yet, the process of gaining earned authority is much more demanding. I have to earn the respect and develop relationships with the students. They have to know that I am there to help them—not just control them. They have to know that I am consistent. That I am firm, that I care. That I am compassionate, that I am not a pushover.

This earned authority, my textbook tells me, is much more powerful than position authority. It is the basis for a partnership—the impetus toward collaboration, for trust and understanding. Because of my age, I believe I will have to work harder to move from position authority to earned authority. Then, and only then, will I truly be able to truly inspire my students and start to motivate them to reach their highest potential.