year two

It's year two.. I've just finished grading the second unit exam I've given to my 8th graders. (Millions of fingers are pointing at me, voices are chanting "meaning! there is meaning to your life!!"- why? I gave up on math in 8th grade; hated it in fact).

Anyway, my students understand everything there is to know about integers. Yet the fact remains- there are errors aplenty when it comes to their basic arithmetic. Why is it so hard to right this wrong? arrrrrgh.

What do you tell the parent who comes to your class to see his child- the child he no longer has custody over and isn't allowed to see?

What do you tell the teachers that let the outside into their classroom and excuse lack of learning for outside factors?

What do you tell the girl that doesn't want to go home to be with her parents?

How should I respond to "you're not a real teacher Mr. Appel"?

How can I convey the contortions that my heart went through after hearing "thank you for teaching me that"?

Everyday one of my students chooses not to work, forgets to turn in homework, talks back, or doesn't show up, I fear for their future. Everyday. I'm scared for them that if they fail this grade the odds of them coming out on top with a high school degree- much less a college degree- are pretty slim. I can tell them that testing two years behind grade level is a very bad thing, but I haven't been able to truly get them to see why.

"Students, I want you to have the opportunities I've had, so please, let's get to work" replaces "Please get away from this place, before it steals the dreams you have yet to realize."

In the past few weeks I have:

Traveled to Washington D.C., met David Gregory from Meet the Press, been to numerous sessions from the Who's Who of education reform, taken over for a 6th grade teacher who quit, taught my SPED/intervention classes during the prep periods of my new 6th grade schedule, created the student schedule for said 6th grade students, traveled to Phoenix, met with a very very wealthy (and amazing) person who offered me a position in Africa after my TFA stint is over, won our final middle school basketball game (49-4), shoveled water out of my house from a pipe that burst when it was frozen, and taught like my pants were on fire.

Such is life.

Paul