Spectacular Things Do Happen

Every once in a while something spectacular happens that keeps me going.  One of those things happened last Friday.  It is hard to cling to the positive things sometimes when working in an urban school like mine.  This incident answers all the questions about why I continue to teach in this type of school and community.

I see one of my 5th grade classes twice a week.  Even though they are as challenging as the other classes, they have become my favorite class.  I still have as many difficulties with behavior, but I have developed a stronger rapport with this group.  I have allowed myself to laugh with them, yell at them, hug them and even cry in front of them when I was so incredibly disappointed in their behavior.  When I do start posting some images of successful art lesson results, it will be work from this class.

Trust is the hardest thing to gain when working with at-risk kids in low SES situations.  They have seen so many teachers and principals come and go in their short lives. The school board changes things every couple years, fires entire faculties, and dismisses teachers while they can, before tenure takes effect.  My students come from broken families due to drugs and crime, often with one or both parents in jail during some part of their lives.  I have several students who have lost a family member or close friend to gun violence.  My students do not trust anyone to stay in their lives for long.  When I missed school to attend my state art ed conference I returned to every other student telling me they thought I quit. They started to ask me if I was coming back next year in February and I started telling them YES...I do not plan to go anywhere.  Many students and especially my 5th grade class have started to trust me a little bit.

On Wednesday I returned from the NAEA Convention in San Diego and again heard from many students that they thought I had quit (even though I had told them where I was going and when I would be back).  My 5th graders came to art excited that I was back.  We are working on a wonderful lesson that I developed and will blog about soon.  Each student is making a large poster of one positive character word in the style of 60's concert posters.  One student mentioned a couple times that she thought hers was ugly.  I told her it wasn't and that she needed to believe in herself.  I really couldn't give her much attention because I was busy dealing with 2 students who had verbally and physically bullied one another.  The girl became mouthy and mean as we came closer to the end of the class period.  I told her I would speak with her the next day during their art class.  Thursday during their class she started up right a way, following me around the room, whining and begging to start over.  Every time I told her that the work was good, she would argue back that it was horrible.  After everyone was working I finally was able to get to her one-on-one.  I told her with complete honesty that I would not lie to her, that her work was good so far and that if I thought it wasn't good I would say so and have her start over.  I persuaded her to finish coloring in the next letter, take a look at the progress and if she was still not happy with it then I would let her start over.  At the end of class she brought it up to me and it was awesome.  I told her so.  She was grinning ear to ear.

Friday morning that girl came to see me.  She stood strong in front of me and said, "Ms. Burton, I just wanted to come and thank you."  I had no idea for what she was thanking me.  The daily struggles take over so much, I had forgotten all about her success from the day before.  So I asked, "Thanking me for what?"  She looked me right in the eye and said, "Thank you for believing in me yesterday.  You really believed my work was good and you helped me see that it was good so I could finish it."  I had to catch my breath and keep a tear from falling.  I responded, "You can do anything you set your mind to and anything you work hard for.  You just need to believe in yourself too, and you're welcome."  She bounced away down the hall and I let the tear fall as I closed my classroom door.

What It Is Like To Teach In HELL!

ISAT testing, so my first class is not meeting.  Yay, I get my very very dirty tables cleaned for the first time in weeks and I finally get some grading done.  There is even time to eat lunch today.

10:45, 5th grade arrives.

11:00 am,  The 5th grader who pulled the fire alarm 2 weeks ago and was only suspended for 5 days, sexually assaulted a girl during art.  Girl doesn't even understand that when boy grabs her breasts like that she is being violated.  Security called to escort them out.

11:25, the 5th grade class has broken all the new crayons and thrown them at one another, I call security to get some control back.

11:50, 3rd grader fight over calling out one anothers mamas, kids sent to office with referral.

12:00, fighting kids returned to art room after being told to be nice(great, that should help, rolling eyes).

12:15, 3rd grader throws up gang signs at me for telling him to sit in his assigned seat.

12:20, school goes on lockdown due to uninvited visitors(several neighborhood gangbangers somehow got into the building and were walking around on the 3rd floor unnoticed until a teacher sees them out his classroom door).

12:40, visitors escorted out and interviewed, arrested by police, (possibly for illegal possession of fire arms and what looked like drugs from the 3rd floor window according to 7th graders).

12:45, 7th grade arrives to swarm the windows to watch the police and discuss who these guys are.  25 minutes to get class into their seats.  They actually worked on their art for about 30 minutes(woohoo, success).

1:45, half of 8th grade arrives.  I teach my lesson on tessellations.  I feel success twice in a day(that never happens).  The other half the class shows up and starts swarming me for what to do.  I try to re-teach the lesson, but they are having none of it and have now distracted those I had working to start.

2:10, girl and boy start screaming at one another, almost fight, but I kick them out to the hall and am grateful that security is in the hall.  A student starts playing music on his phone and refuses to turn it off.  I try to get the phone, but no luck.  The others in class start breaking pencils and throwing them at one another.

2:30, I put on my coat, get my bag and sit in a chair by the door, ignoring everything happening in my classroom at this point because frankly, I cannot take anymore for the day.

2:45, I get the students out the door and I leave for home.  Can't wait to return tomorrow!

Apologies Required

My third grade class is not allowed back into my art room until every one of them has given me a handwritten apology note.  I spent much of Friday, April 5th, calling student homes to request that parents discuss proper classroom behavior with their child/children.  I really shouldn't have to explain that art class is not recess time.  In my calls, I explained that proper art room behavior involves all the same rules as in their regular class and includes staying in their seats unless directed otherwise, listening actively(not talking while the teacher talks), Respecting selves, others, teacher and the art materials, being kind and doing their best work.

I am part time, so I only see this class once every 2 weeks.  It is a class of 32 + 4 when the special education students arrive.  Anyone who says that it does not matter how many are in a class, that a good teacher will be able to succeed with them no matter the size is just WRONG.  The third graders arrived Friday morning at 11am and sat where ever they wanted even after I greeted them in the hallway and told them to go to their assigned seats.  I pulled out my seating chart, started calling names and putting children in their assigned seats.  This took 15 minutes because the class was so loud that most had to be called 3 or 4 times before they heard me.  At least at this point in the year I know how to pronounce their names.  When I didn't know the difference between LatAsha and Latasha it was even more rough.  Yes, I tried to quiet them while I was getting them to go to their assigned seats. I tried everything I know how, to no avail. 

So, they were finally all sitting and I began my lesson.  I was able to get their attention and it was silent for a half second.  I jumped on that time and began speaking in an average volume level.  Within my first 4 words, several students had turned away and started talking to others.  There was no single specific child to address about the behavior.  I tried raising my voice.  They became quiet for another second.  I started again.  Stopped.  Silence.  Started.  Stopped.  Silence.  I tried to be animated to get attention...no help.  I tried to talk quietly...no help.  I tried blowing my whistle...no help.  It went on like this for a bit until I finally lowered my voice and quietly said, I am not being allowed to teach.  I referenced the time wasted already, 30 minutes of our 60 minute class was already gone.  I explained that I was going to give the directions and demonstrate for those paying attention.  Anyone not paying attention?  Well, too bad for them, because I would not go over the directions again.  Directions were written on the board, the step by step artwork process was in visual form on the bulletin board and they would have to reference those things or ask someone who was listening.  I gave my demo and directions, passed out the paper and materials and let what happened happen.  It was basically awful.  Only 5 or 6 out of 36 actually knew what to do.  I could not help those students much because I was trying hard to keep 2 students from fighting.  One girl with very low self esteem really needed my attention, but I couldn't take time for her.  At one point I turned to see a student chasing another around the tables.  I somehow managed to get them into their seats without any injuries or major spills.

They had a total of 15 minutes to work before I called for clean up.  CLEAN UP TIME...another nightmare.  They will not stop once they have materials in their hands.  Ok, I exaggerate.  One table did clean up quickly.  They heard me say, "First table cleaned up to my expectation gets a reward".  The yellow table was on top of things.  It seems they had miraculously paid attention each time I had covered the cleanup expectations in the past.  They had their table completely cleared with all things correctly organized in the center table bin within 3 minutes and they each received a pencil from The Art Institute of Chicago.  Bribery...yes!  One of the few ways to get cooperation with my kids.  The rest of the class?????  I had to literally pull brushes and pencils out of hands, grab paintings out from under them and try to not freak out as they yelled at me for doing these things.  As I lined up each table group to exit my classroom, I seriously heard kids ask me, "Where is my special pencil?".  To which I replied, "Ask the yellow table what they did to get the pencils.".

When their teacher arrived I announced to him that I would be calling the guardian of every single child and would not allow them back into my room without a written apology note from each student.  He agreed, and understood.  I was nearly brought to tears and still feel like a failure.  The parent support has been wonderful.  I've had students come apologize in person and a few have brought me their written apology notes.  There are still a handful of parents with whom I need to connect before this Friday and there is a very flat folder waiting to be filled with apology notes.  If the folder remains thin, Friday's 3rd grade class may be the best group of 6 students I have ever had in my classroom.

Yellow + Red = Orange

I wrote this lesson when I was student teaching 13 years ago.  It is still a great one that the Kindergarten students love and almost always feel successful after completing.

Teaching little ones who have no understanding of boundaries is a challenge.  Someone in my art teacher circle recently compared teaching Kindergarteners to herding cats...so true.  My kids in the city seem to have even less understanding of boundaries and have a really hard time stopping once they have a material in their hand.  I will tell them 10 times to make only one brown circle in the center of their paper and fill it in with oil pastel, then hold their up in the air and wait for the next step.  If I do not get that oil pastel out of their hand or off their table as soon as they finish I find they have drawn all over their paper(usually beautiful brown preschematic families, floating little circles with sticks coming out of them).  And I fully admit to scolding kids for grabbing the oil pastel from their peers and drawing on their neighbors paper, the table, the stool, the wall, themselves.  I have one little boy who cannot stop gluing everything.  If there is an unattended glue bottle anywhere visable in my classroom he will find it.  He will pick paper out of the trash and put glue on it.  He has glued book pages together on my bookshelf.  I opened a cabinet this morning I and grumbled his name under my breath as I realized the handle was coated in dried glue. (Yes, I have spoken with his parent). 

Back to the point...I demonstrate making a big dot at the center of the 12 x 12 paper for the flower center, then I show the students how to dip their brush into the yellow paint first, then dip just a little of the red on the tip and then pull the brush on the paper from the center dot out to the paper edge, repeating with each flower petal.  They seriously get so excited that the yellow and red make orange.  I never tire of the awe students have when they see the artistic magic happen.

I give each child a 12 x 12 white paper and a brown or black oil pastel and instruct to make the circle.  Then I collect the oil pastels as quickly as I can possibly move.  Because I have no sink in my classroom this year, I use small paper plates for each child instead of my washable and reusable styrofoam trays.   Brushes and plates with red and yellow paint splotches are distributed, then I pretty much just watch the magic and try to keep kids from painting anything but their paper.

I think I will do an entire post on the management and the clean up process when there is no sink, so for now I will just say that the kids (who are trained well enough) place their paintings on my long window sill because I have no drying rack, then we clean up.  Day 2 of this lesson involves cutting stems and leaves without the use of a pencil and gluing it all down without glue oozing everywhere.  I was really happy with the process and product of this lesson and my administration and faculty/staff loved the bright spring color in the hallway during this dreary winter/spring in Chicago.

 

Turned Around

Thursday, March 28th, just after the first bell, my principal called all faculty to the computer lab for an unscheduled meeting.  We had all been waiting for this day but thought it would be after Spring break.  The decision of what would happen to our school and to us was about to be announced.

The principal started out by saying that no matter what he was about to tell us or what we hear from anyone; the community, cps, the union, the media, he knew that we were all valuable to the education of these children and that we are a strong family.  Then he took a deep breath and said with tears in his eyes (this is a proud marine), "I don't know how to say this, so I will just read the letter from Barbara Byrd-Bennett.  Then he read the letter that states that our school is going to be turned around through the Academy for Urban School Leadership (AUSL) and that we are all being displaced/replaced at the end of the school year.

As what he had just read started to penetrate my head, my heart sank.  We had all seriously thought we would be safe.  He had led us to believe we were all safe because Barbara Byrd-Bennett had led him to believe we were safe.  Since he took over the school 2 years ago the school statistics have made the highest improvement of all elementary schools in the city.  The population of the school has doubled in 2 years and the Chicago Housing Authority is building housing 2 blocks away that will feed to our school in the next 2 years.

The others in the room started to ask questions.  Two of our teachers are new this year from the displaced teacher pool after their schools were turned around previously and I have been through the application and interview process with AUSL.  We 3 know what no one else in the room knows.  We know that we will forever have a stigma attached to our names because our school is being turned around.  We know that we will have to swallow whatever pride we might have and re-apply for our own jobs, hope we are asked to an awkward (group of 30-40 applicants) interview, hope that the 2 interviewers take notice of us as individuals and ask us to continue in the process, make it through 2 more interviews and then if hired, go through training on how to educate urban children successfully...haha.  We know that 3 of our teachers who are only a few years from retirement will probably not see a happy end to their almost 40 year teaching careers.

My principal, the community, parents, students and our faculty/staff are fighting this decision.  It is not a done deal until the final school board hearing at the end of May.  If this does happen, as a part time teacher, I will be on my own with no union support or extended assistance from the school district.  I will lose my tenure if I am not rehired in the district within one year of my hire date.

All I keep thinking is that it took me 12 years of teaching, 8 schools and 8 principals, some mediocre and a couple truly evil, to finally find one who is amazing to work with.  He is a true leader and a cheerleader for us all and I have the utmost respect for him.  The sadness that comes over me when I think of losing this principal and my school family is overwhelming.  For today, our first day back after Spring Break, I am going to teach as best I know how and give my students the best of myself, because no matter what Mayor Emmanuel and the Chicago Board of Education thinks of the kids/people of North Lawndale, they deserve the best of me and the best of every other adult who loves them.

Jealousy

I admit it!  I am a jealous person sometimes.  Right now I am especially envious of all art teachers who have sinks, white boards and/or any type of technology to use in their teaching.  I have tables and stools and a nasty old chalk board with so much dried on hot glue that it cannot be used.  Art teachers with less than 30 students in a class are on my list of those to envy also.  I really am very glad to have a job at all and although the ability of my students is very low due to lack of access to the arts and art education, I try to cling to the little advances I do see in their development.

My school is in a very poor neighborhood.  My kids are growing up in less than ideal circumstances with very little parental encouragement.  When the majority of the 5-7 year old kindergarten students say, "I can't.  I don't know how." before I even hand out materials, I have to dig in and remind myself that I may be the only person today to tell them that they can!

I spent my Sunday checking out many art teacher blogs and felt queazy after seeing the things others have to use to help in their instructional process as well as what they are able to get their students to do; white boards, smart boards, projectors, ipads, digital cameras, brushes that are not 80 years old, etc.  I am jealous, yet impressed and know that someday I will see process and product that is as amazing as what I see from so many other teachers. 

I spent much of last Friday teaching fifth graders how to hold the scissors so they can cut with some precision.  What they produced is not "good" by visual standards.  They should have been able to complete the project in the 90 minute period we had, yet many in the class hardly started for fear of messing up and doing it wrong.  Through all the negatives I initially see, I stop and realize that the process was progressive in their development.  I am content with the knowledge that the next time they may worry less about how to cut and more about what they are cutting.  Here are some images of what was to be a patterned picnic rug with a camouflaged bug: