Non-Negotiables

I was talking with an incoming first year teacher this evening, who is in the midst of finishing her summer training. She was petrified of working at a high school in DC since she loved elementary. A mutual friend told her to talk to me since I was in the same boat 2 years ago. She has spent the past month or so teaching elementary and didn't know if that would translate to high school. She asked me how she should tackle behavior management and what should she expect with co-teaching. I reassured her that you can't control everything. The best way to walk into a teaching situation that isn't entirely defined (any teaching job pre-day1) is to walk in knowing what you believe in. I decided to tell her about something I learned in grad school.

There were many things about my grad school experience that I despised. It felt like a waste of time. We weren't treated like college students, but like middle school students. The work was tedious. The list goes on. It was exciting, for the first time, I was able to pull on my grad school experience to guide a new teacher.

There were a few golden nuggets of wisdom that came out of the silt. One of these nuggets was the concept of non-negotiables. For one of the classes we had to create a list of 10 non-negotiables we have in education. I came up with the following 10...

1. The student must be included in decisions about their education, regardless of their age.

2. The parent(s) and the teacher(s) must be invested in the student if they hold the student to any expectations.

3. It is the duty of the school staff (administration, teachers, support staff) to provide a safe and welcoming environment if they expect students to attend school.

4. I will never lower my expectations for students, although I may adjust them when appropriate.

5. Students must take responsibility for their education, and teachers must show the students how to do this.

6. I will never deny a child their dream, but I will make sure they are grounded in reality.

7. The administration should put the students first, but never at the cost of jeopardizing a person's safety, both mental and physical.

8. A student's right to a proper education plan is always more important than a deadline.

9. It is the responsibility of the adults to provide a support network for students.

10. One should understand and accept a person's limitations, but never make excuses for them outside of their true limitations.

These were written part way through my first year of teaching. I was at the peak of my rage against the establishment of DCPS. I had experienced events I never thought would happen in a school building. I watched adults perform acts that were directly harmful to children's education. I heard excuses and lies that crippled my belief that I could make a difference. I felt a bit stupid writing some of them, such as number 3. Who negotiates safety? I didn't think adults in a school building did, but my first semester at my school brought to light that was not a universal truth. 

These non-negotiables brought a new sense of enlightenment into my teaching life. I spent countless hours being worried sick about planning, lessons, content, and all of these now NEGOTIABLE topics. Once I defined what I wasn't going to budge on, it was much easier to negotiate the rest and let go a little. As long as children were learning, the method was negotiable. As long as everyone was invested in the children and holding them to expectations, it was alright how they went about investing their time/effort. 

It isn't fair to yourself to walk into a dysfunctional school (or system) and assume that you will be able to execute your perfect plan. There are bound to be curve balls, road bumps (or blocks), brick walls, and other metaphorical issues that stand in the way of you and your perfect behavior plan or long term plan. By creating non-negotiables, you don't have your perfect plan, but you do have your integrity. That was the most important thing to have. I found that was the only thing that didn't change over the past two years. I've had 18 different behavior management plans. I've created over 30 long-term plans. I've changed contents 5 times. But I have never completely changed my non-negotiables. They have molded with my experience - adjusting to my ever-changing surroundings. 

It was nice to hear the incoming first year think this was helpful. I felt it was a bit enigmatic. I know she wanted a concrete behavior plan and the key to planning with a co-teacher, but I think she felt good knowing I was being honest. I suggested a type of planning, I guess. Planning on how to keep your integrity and dignity during your teaching experience in an inner-city school.

Dulled Senses

I was chatting with some friends on the couch this evening about my job. One of the other ladies, CRM, teaches at a private school in Rwanda. While it boasts to be the "best school in the country", she definitely has some interesting challenges. What was surprising was that CRM was sure it was much harder to teach at my school than hers. Her friend also teaches in Washington, DC and when they compared, DC was definitely harder. I wasn't convinced.

CRM explained that she did not have to handle such things as parents being incarcerated or shootings in the neighborhood she teaches in. Not only that, she found it even more astonishing that her friend had become accustomed to such events and barely reacted when it happened. "She called me and was telling me that another one of her kids' parent was put in jail for something or other..." While CRM was upset that such things were happening to the children, she found it more astonishing that her friend didn't seem to think twice about it. She imagined that it must be extremely hard to teach in a place where this is something that becomes normal - it must take a toll on you.

I began to think about my own reactions to events in my students' lives. As I thought more about it, I became a bit more upset with myself. I am not surprised, or even necessarily moved, when a kid tells me they don't have food in the house. It used to upset me immensely. While it does upset me, instead of getting mad about it I feel moved to just do something about it. I'll take kids out to eat or bring them food if they haven't eaten. When I hear a kid has a parent who is strung out on drugs, I shrug and think "bummer." I don't spend significant time dwelling on it or thinking about what they have to go home to. Why not? Why don't I think about what many of my students face when they go home? Does that make me heartless?

No. At least, I don't think so. If I spent all my time being upset about my kids not eating, being beaten, taking care of a drunk/high parent, being responsible for their siblings, etc. I wouldn't be able to do my job. I'd be a total train wreck, being upset about all these things I either can't control, or I can only do a little bit to help. It's not as if I ignore all of these events. I definitely acknowledge that they are occurring and I do whatever I can to help make it less painful for the child. But if I got extremely emotional every single time I wouldn't be able to help any of the kids. So does that make me jaded? I don't think so, but I do think my senses have been dulled a bit by over exposure to certain things. It's similar to a chef's hands - they can handle much hotter objects than I can because of repeated exposure to hot pots, pans, etc. I can handle tough news relatively well compared to those outside of my profession because of repeated exposure to such incidences.

Every so often I get wildly upset. I'll cry and freak out about certain outrageous situations. Usually when it's the first time something happens. The first time rape came up, I had a breakdown. The first time a student's parent was put in jail, I struggled to find the right words. The first time a student's parent died, I was a complete mess. The first time a student got pregnant, I was outrageously angry. By the second time, I was upset, but relatively in control. By the third time I was mildly upset but mostly kept on going how I had been. While it's disturbing to admit that my reaction lessens, I remember how I react the first time and I am slightly comforted. I make sure to never forget my initial reactions to certain events.

After I have a particularly trying day, I write about how I felt or reacted to things I may have experienced or learned. When I have dulled reactions to major events in my students' lives, I re-read pieces I've written in the heat of my anger to remind myself that I am human - that I do get wildly upset about injustices in life - that I am not sense-less. It is important to remind myself that these are not the norm - that these things should never be considered the norm - and that it is not fair that my children have accepted such events as death, jail, and pregnancy during middle/high school as normal. While I may have dulled senses when it comes to hearing devastating news, I have the same passion about fighting these inequities that I did when I first heard or learned about them. After all, they are the reason that I do what I do.


Here's an example of a piece I wrote earlier this year:


A Heart Glued Together, With Love
Today, my heart broke for the children. Broke for the children who have survived the pain and devastation their parents have put them through. Broke for the children who feel a pain I hope to never know. Broke for the children who feel a hunger that I have never felt. Broke for the children who long for love that is never satisfied. Broke for the children who were born into a world that was harsh, cruel, and unfair to them.

My heart cracked as I heard “one bedroom apartment” and “4 pregnant girls” in the same sentence. A piece broke free and smashed onto the wood floor when the word “rape” didn’t make a single person flinch. Another shrapnel fell to the floor, bouncing along the ground to “no food in the house”. “He hates his father for leaving him” made the dangling piece break free and roll down my belly, resting on my lap. I picked up the piece of my heart and held it out to him, as a tear streamed down his face. “He could come back…” wasn’t the glue I needed to weave my heartstring back on; it wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t true enough.

My soul began to shake, missing the heart to feed it. An earthquake was rumbling, getting ready to break and shatter the rest of my heart to bits. “WHY WEREN’T YOU THERE? I NEEDED YOU!” Was the explosion that made my heart leave my body, bleeding all over the linoleum tiles. My soul fell to its knees, while my eyes looked empty into his. He was the survivor. He had the heart to carry on.

She walked in and looked at me. “Ms. Walker, can you take me to the bathroom?” I walked her down the hallway, leaving pieces of my heart behind to find our way back. My brain was gasping for air, “How is she going to care for a child? Who will be with her when she goes into labor? Who’s going to explain what’s happening?” With each question, a piece fell and clinked on the floor. My soul followed behind, trying to pick up the pieces, but wasn’t strong enough to carry my heavy heart.

My soul crashed to the ground. I couldn’t speak. “Thanks for dinner, Ms. Walker. I was really hungry.” I wanted to say, “You’re welcome.” But unlike him, I didn’t have the strength. I couldn’t speak without my eyes turning into rivers of emotions that I didn’t know how to express. So, I nodded and smiled.

As my soul was lying there on the floor, crying out for the children, I realized that I couldn’t help them if my heart was broken. I couldn’t be a guardian to them, like I had promised, if my heart was shattered on the floor. I had promises to keep, mouths to feed, brains to educate.

So the children picked up my pieces. They came, one by one, and handed my soul the parts to my broken heart, reassuring me it was going to be ok. “Ms. Walker, I’ll be safe, don’t you worry about me.” “Ms. Walker, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I love you, Momma.” “Thanks for sewing on my button, Step-mom.” “It’ll all be better when you adopt me, Ms. Walker.” “Just one more hug before I get on the bus?!”

They showed me how to be strong. They taught me how to survive. They proved that it was ok if my heart shattered every single day, because they would make sure to pick up the pieces, and glue them together with their love, making it stronger than it was before.

The Danger of Making Friends

There are several students who are openly known as my adopted children. I have several sons, and a daughter or two. One of my adopted sons, CH, is particularly attached to me. It wasn't until this summer that I realized how attached he was to the teachers in his life. He calls me daily, and also calls other teachers or texts them every couple of days if I am unavailable to chat.

I often ask him if he has hung out with any of his friends and he always tells me how he saw his manz "Charles". I have never met Charles, and I don't know which school he goes to, but CH sure does spend a lot of time with this boy. It's great to have a best friend, but if Charles wasn't available, CH just "sits in the house." I began to realize that Charles is CH's only real friend.

I was baffled. CH is a nice, sociable kid. He's inquisitive, polite, and is a decent conversationalist. Why wasn't he hanging out with more kids? The best way to find out is to ask, so as we sat in Barnes & Noble the other day I asked why he only hangs out with Charles. With a sigh, he explained his isolationist strategy to me...

You see, CH moved to a new neighborhood this past year. He didn't know many people and managed to escape being jumped by some kids that live between his new and old neighborhoods. Feeling unsafe, he stayed in the house (read: his 2 bedroom for 8 people apartment) all day and watched TV or wrote in his journal. He doesn't get along with his family so he keeps to himself when at home, trying not to bother anyone since it tends to escalate quickly. It was easy to just keep to himself, worry about doing well in school, and not bother anyone.

I told him that I understood that part, but if he made friends he would be able to leave the house and hang out with his friends. "No, you just don't get it Ms. Walker..." "Well, CH, can you explain it to me so I understand?"....

It's dangerous making friends. "You don't know people like that." While he may know people from school, it's hard to tell if they're going to turn on you. "You can't trust anyone out there. They're not like you."

They're not like me? Well, I knew that. Every time I pick him up or drive him home the stares and glares from the street and windows remind me that I'm not like "them". Despite the lack of description for why he doesn't trust anyone, I gained a real understanding for CH's anxiety around making friends. It turns out that it is actually dangerous to make new friends. You just can't be sure if they're going to set you up in a bad situation. You can't always tell what crew (read: gang) they are in or if they're going to walk a route that is dangerous for you but not them. School provided a No Man's Land for kids to make friends and determine if it was safe to see them outside of school. Without the "safety" of the school building to foster a friendship, kids have a hard time "knowing people like that."

Naturally, I decided to try and push CH outside of his comfort zone. I mean, he is significantly more paranoid than most of the other students (not without good reason) and needs to learn how to cope and make friends. He had been talking about how he needed headphones for his iPod touch he got for making Honor Roll (thank you Ms. B for giving that to me/CH!), so I told him I'd make a deal. He knows a lot of people in his summer college prep program - a perfect breeding ground for new friendships. If he hung out with one new person outside of his summer program, I would buy him some decent headphones.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. I'm bribing the child to make friends. While everyone may not have the same parenting techniques that I do, I must admit it is usually effective.

When I checked in with him today on his friend progress, he gave me many reasons why he hadn't asked anyone to hang out. He asked if I had extra headphones and I reminded him of my deal. "Ohhhh I don't know... it's really hot outside Ms. Walker... it's not like we can do anything...." "CH.... a deal is a deal!" "Alright... I will go buy them myself."

Bribery failed. I guess making friends is really as dangerous as he says...

Summer School

Kids with moderate and severe disabilities qualify for a service called Extended School Year (ESY). Many of my students fall within this category, but only a few choose to take advantage of this great service. For those who decided to go this summer, they are fortunate enough to have one of our instructional aides working with them. I was meeting up with her and some other teachers/aides for lunch and decided I would drop by to check on my kiddos.

When I walked into the cafeteria today, it was as if it were any other day with my kids. They saw me and immediately hid, peeking around corners and from under tables with grins the size of watermelon slices. As I rushed towards them with arms wide open, 2 of the 3 gave me huge hugs and told me how much they missed me. The one booger ran and hid behind one of his new "manz" - he later gave me a big hug. I got a little emotional, but immediately reverted to joking that the heat must be getting to them. It was wonderful to sit and chat with them, meet their other ESY friends, hear about how their summers are going and what they are (or aren't...) learning in summer school. I got all the gossip on our cluster kids and how everyone is doing. It was reassuring to hear mostly positive things and that most kids were safe and happy.

It made my heart hurt a little when I asked "What did you guys learn today?" and the response was "Nothing...". I pushed further and they insisted they didn't do anything because of the heat (mind you the school is air-conditioned). While this is disappointing, academics are not the most important part of ESY for many of my students. It's a hot meal every day for lunch - something many of them wouldn't get if they stayed at home. It also gets them out of their house - something they cannot do on their own, unfortunately. While the learning is important, it's more important for them to be able to get out of their own houses and keep themselves busy. However, I was disappointed in the teachers I knew there for not pushing the kids, but you can't win them all. I mean, it was really hot outside...

In addition to seeing my ESY babies I visited my boy LB in the hospital. He got hit by a car while riding his bike 2 weeks ago and has been cooped up in the hospital on bed rest. He broke his leg and has a plate in it, which has made walking extremely difficult and painful. It's unclear how long his recovery is going to take, but the good news is he is expecting a full recovery. He informed me "Oh I'll be all better Ms. Walker because I really want it. You always tell me, if I want it bad enough I can get it. Well I want this reeaaallll baaaaaad." I told him he was right, as long as he wants it he can do anything. What was even better was he asked me to bring him some books because he was tired of watching TV. He is now all set up with two of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, a Calvin and Hobbs cartoon book, a word-search book, and a sudoku book. That should keep him busy until I come back in 1.5 weeks.

The most reassuring part of seeing all my kids today was that every single one told me they couldn't wait for school to start. They were excited about all the changes I was telling them about. LB was telling me how pumped he was about being able to participate in my after school program. SM couldn't stop smiling about me teaching English. TS couldn't wait to learn all day. Even AN couldn't wait to come back.

It made me realize that my kids need school. They don't have their summers filled with summer camp and vacations like I did when I was younger. I barely had a moment to breathe when I was a kid, and that's how I liked it. If you give kids too much idle time they don't know how to handle it.  They love the structure that our program provides, that they are held to high expectations, and they are constantly provided activities to pass the time. When you're reading level is 5-8 years below your age level, it's tough to pick up a book and just read or to watch TV shows that require higher level comprehension. (Not to mention TV gets boring after 2 days - LB told me so). Kids act like they hate school, but that's just not true. While they may be shy to admit it, they would prefer school over vacation any day.

I reassured my kids it was ok that they were excited about the new school year, because I was really excited too.

Welcome to Ms. Walker's Classroom

There are many moments during my day that I wish I could share with people. There are those "EUREKA!" moments, the "Did that seriously just happen?" moments, the "People should know these things really do occur" moments, and everything in between. Instead of continuing this inner dialogue, I decided it was time to share those moments with... whoever wants to listen.

To give you a little context of my stories, I'll tell you about my past two years (read:first two years) in the classroom. I was hired at my school in August 2009 and had minimal teaching experience. I was a part of an alternate certification program that placed me at my school. When I talked to the principal at the time, he told me I would be teaching within the MR cluster. "Cluster? Do you mean Classroom?" "No, I mean cluster. There are other teachers who are in your cluster. You'll be working with them. They are with you all day." This still did not clarify what I was doing, but he didn't seem to be interested in me understanding my job. "Alright, so what content will I be teaching in the cluster?" "Basic things. Like math, reading, and writing." Hmmmm... still didn't quite understand my job... "So are these students performing at a high school level? Or will I be teaching elementary content?" "Oh these kids can't read. You'll probably need to teach them how to count. You'll figure it out. Just make sure no one gets hurt."

So I started my school year with the charge of "make sure no one gets hurt." I was also strongly encouraged to teach high school content through my alternate certification program. With this in mind, I was prepared to keep kids safe while teaching 9-12th grade English, Algebra, Geometry, Algebra II, and basic remediation skills on August 24, 2009.

Within 2 weeks, I realized my kids didn't need to learn high school level standards because it was more important to teach them how to read. In addition, I determined that teaching them high school level math wasn't the best use of time when they struggled with basic addition. To top it off, it was brought to my attention that my students don't receive high school diplomas because of the program they were in. (I also learned that a cluster was a group of classes that all had students with the same classification of disabilities. It was me and 2 other classes, only 1 of which had a teacher at the time.) After learning all of these things, I adjusted our curriculum a bit. I focused primarily on elementary level academics in order to meet them where they were at.

Later that year, my class was combined with the class that didn't have a teacher. With new students came a new teacher. We co-taught through the rest of the year, constantly remodeling our program. We had a variety of staff move through our classroom, but the number of kids remained the same: 24.

With the start of a new school year in August 2010, we made a few changes to the ID (legally changed from MR) cluster program. We added in another teacher who taught transition, and split up the academic subjects amongst the other 3 teachers. I took on mathematics, another teacher took on English, and the last taught Science and Social Studies. Our students rotated classes, just like other high school students. This was not well received at first, but they ultimately liked being treated like "regular" high schoolers. Halfway through the year we switched things up and adjusted the schedule to shorten their morning periods, condense academics to the morning, and then teach Life Skills in the afternoon. They were also able to add in an elective period. This model seems to have worked out the best as we are keeping it for more than 1 semester.

Going into the new school year we are seeing some changes though. Our transition teacher will only be working with our kids during the life skills period, and will be with other students in the mornings. We're also looking to implement a behavior system that is consistent across all classrooms - something that is crucial for a functional school program. Special Olympics is starting back up this year, as well. This will be a great release for our kids. Lots of exciting things are happening to our group of students who are some of the most neglected kids in the district.

Over the past two years I have been working with my team to change the expectation from "no one gets hurt" to "everyone is engaged in their learning." We have had some students make 4+ years of reading growth and an average of 4+ years of math growth. While this has happened with other classes in the building, these students learn at half the rate (at least) as other students in the school. Now when an administrator walks in my classroom, they expect to see me leading an engaging lesson and EVERY student learning. They push me to work harder and be a better educator. While their expectations for me are still different than their expectations for other teachers, at least they don't see me as merely a babysitter. I mean, they still expect me to "make sure no one gets hurt."