What Are You Going To Do?

"Yo, Miss, I don't like reading, so save that crappy book for someone else." This was both an exact quotation and the general consensus on day one in my ELA 8 class. To be precise, this is not “my” class per se; I am a middle school ELL (English Language Learners) teacher in an underperforming school in Massachusetts, and my role in this particular class is to provide ELL support to students with intermediate English skills. I recall looking at the book in my hand that I was attempting to pawn off on the class. In a way, this kid who declared this a “crappy” book had me over a barrel. This text looked pathetic. Were I still in 8^th grade, I would turn up my nose at it the same way he did. In fact, every single book in the classroom stack of Walter Dean Myers' 145th Street: Short Stories was in seriously sad shape. Pages were missing. Most of the covers were ripped. I remember glancing up at my co-teacher, who returned my look with a “oh-well-what’re-you-gonna-do” shrug.

This is typical of the experience in an underperforming school. My school does not have automatic funds to replace worn materials at the drop of a hat. We usually make do with what we’ve got – and what we’ve got seems to diminish in number and quality by the day. What’s more, students here don’t come to school with freshly scrubbed faces and newly sharpened pencils, ready to just eat up every single lesson plan that their teachers have put countless hours into crafting. They tend to have issues and problems that make learning difficult. In the setting where I teach, my students are tough, hardscrabble kids, most of whom are refugees from harder lives in Puerto Rico. They are English Language Learners. They come from broken families. They live in poverty. They are hungry. Many are homeless. Yet my students are fiercely proud - and they should be. They are as deserving of healthy lives and better opportunities as any other person on the planet

I teach in what is called a Gateway City in Massachusetts. My school has been deemed "underperforming" by the state Department of Elementary and Secondary Education. We are in a school turnaround plan, a three-year endeavor that has required an all-hands-on-deck approach to reform. We are faced with what feels like an insurmountable task--but our resolve to succeed is unshakable. Giving these kids a chance at an education is the most valuable gift I can offer. The gangs and the streets wait outside the doors of our school every day. In spite of all economic and social obstacles, my job—my mission—is to convince the students I work with that learning and literacy are the ticket to a better path.

Oh well. What are you going to do?

My co-teacher and I forged ahead. We modeled fluent reading and guided students through comprehension exercises as we read 145th Street: Short Stories as a class. Class discussions began to get more lively. Kids asked questions about the characters in each story, making meaningful connections and writing insightful journal entries. By the time we finished 145^th Street, every copy had fallen apart completely. Ceremoniously, we took the pages and made annotated murals as a final group project. The kids were visibly proud. It was beautiful.

Knowing that it would be tough to replicate this experience for future classes, I thought about ways to raise funds to purchase a new set of books. A colleague in my ELL teaching community on Twitter had suggested writing a proposal on Donors Choose some time ago. I sat down at my computer one recent weekend and wrote. And wrote. I submitted a proposal on a Saturday evening, and by Monday morning I got word of its approval. I sent the link to my project at the Donors Choose website to everyone I know. Within 6 hours, my project was completely funded. I was overjoyed!

Since the completion of this project, I have successfully submitted and funded another one, and I am now working on a proposal for materials to use in my role as an after school tutor. Tutoring is as vital as classroom instruction in the setting in which I work, possibly in all teaching and learning communities. There are ways to succeed even when circumstances are challenging, I have learned. Opportunities are everywhere, if we simply allow ourselves to see them.  

Click here to see my ongoing projects: www.donorschoose.org/kate.blair

Donors Choose (hopefully me)

I've posted before about the works of wonder that Walter Dean Myers writes, and how his voice so clearly and resonantly speaks to the population I work with. Today's post is an indelible underscore of my belief in the power of his writing and how it can transform the lives of young learners. I am reaching out to folks in every possible way I know in an effort to help gather support for my ESL classroom. We are looking to acquire a new set of Myers' book 145th Street: Short Stories. It's a collection of stories written about young people in an urban setting with tough lives, and it's serving to turn some of my more reluctant readers into motivated, capable students. The copies we had up until this year have fallen apart completely, and unfortunately the school does not have the funds to replace them. Right now, Donors Choose is pledging to match any donation dollar for dollar up until November 19th. I thank you in advance for considering, and please feel free to share this project with others who might be looking to support local underserved students.

Click this link to see my page:http://www.donorschoose.org/kate.blair 

Vocabulary and ELL's

When it comes to learning a new language, the importance of vocabulary cannot be undervalued. Words are points of synthesis, like little power packs or building blocks to new knowledge, better understanding, and greater ease of movement in a new language and culture. Words are food. They help a brain to grow.

The process of teaching words to students who are learning a new language is, well, a process. They need these aforementioned power packs, not just in my ELD (English Language Development) class, but also in their other core academic classes, in gym, in music, in life. But when you look at my particular students in my particular setting, it's pretty clear to see that the teaching of new vocabulary requires a special touch.

I realize I haven't posted in Tales From The Clink in quite some time. I guess it's because I spend most of my time trying to perfect that "special touch," which is really just what all caring teachers do as part of their jobs: the constant pursuit of better methods to optimize student learning. I have a constant time crunch, and that means I'm on the go as soon as my foot passes the threshold of door 3 at M School every morning. "Spare time" in my world is an oxymoron. Let me paint a picture. 

My classroom consists of sectioned off quarter of a regular classroom, and I share it with two other teachers who are also equally compromised for space, time and resources. My students are ten in number, are seventh and eighth graders, and are growing both physically and as numbers on a roster week by week. We are big people in a small space. We are transient. We are victims of significant trauma. We are homeless. We are refugees. We are on government assistance. We are hungry.

My teaching, and my planning for my teaching, has to take all this into account. I know I have to expect obstacles to learning, and so I plan my lessons in 20 minute chunks of time (studies show that both ELL's and kids who have been exposed to trauma need tasks broken down into roughly 20 minute periods of time). One of these chunks is devoted to word study. I have come to rely on a fantastic website called Vocabulary and Spelling City www.spellingcity.com. I discovered VSC a few years ago when I started teaching reading in the juvenile justice system. Someone had mentioned this site at a conference I had attended, and I found the site and started experimenting with it with my students at the time. The group of students I had been teaching then were pretty diverse in their reading levels, and using this website allowed me to customize word lists to each student’s ability. It was an instant hit. I could create assignments that connected to what each student was reading but also wove in customized writing and listening tasks. I could give them feedback right on the site, which they loved. 

My year started with a pull-out group of 5 students, and now, in early November, this group has doubled, and it promises to continue this trend. The coming and going of students on a regular basis requires a high degree of differentiation in my instruction.  Having the use of Vocab & Spelling City.com allows me to create custom word lists for my brand new beginners, my emerging students, and those who are approaching fluency. Even those students who have access to the internet outside of school can log on and work on word study assignments outside of the classroom. My students have all improved their scores on a variety of literacy assessments, and I feel that our word study routine using VSC has a lot to do with this success.

I don’t know what I would do without VSC., and I want others to know about its great features and benefits. I feel as though I have a partnership with the people who have created this web resource. I hope other teachers and learners will discover it too. If you do, let me know what you think! 

Yes, We Can

Wow. It's nearing the end of the school year, and what a long, strange trip it's been. At M School, we've taken an all-hands-on-deck approach to turning things around, and by "things," I mean a collection of indicators of performance as seen through the lenses of higher-ups at the state level. Those things would include, but are not limited to: test scores, attendance, and behavior (internal and external suspension rates). We have increased the length of our school day, and we have added two hours of professional development to our working time each week. We have made a concerted effort to improve student writing skills by delivering monthly open response questions and focusing more on writing instruction techniques. As of this past Thursday, we were still awaiting our MCAS test scores, which many in the M School community are awaiting with the most bated of breath. 

But the sparkling cider corks are already popping for me.

MEPA (Massachusetts English Proficiency Assessment) scores arrived this past Thursday. Our district goal was 62% improvement. M School beat that goal, and moreover, the ELL kids at the middle school level surpassed it by an even larger margin. As a teacher of beginning English Language Learners in grades 6-8, I've got myself a tall order. My students arrive directly from Puerto Rico with little to no English proficiency, and believe it or not, they don't always arrive in my classroom doorway with freshly sharpened pencils, clean, smiling faces, and positive attitudes. Frankly, they're pissed that they had to leave P.R., their culture, their families, their homeland. They take one look at me, Gringa Maestra, and suck their teeth and cross their arms, waiting to see what I do with their defiance. Fortunately, I've gotten my Spanish on this year, so I've gained some competence in bridging this gap. I don't look like I can speak their language, but when I throw a few key Spanish phrases around, they pay attention and sit up. In addition, I've had a full year's worth of trying different teaching approaches, diversifying my techniques. I've worked hard to earn their trust and build relationships, and really, that matters more to me than test scores.

But I can't help but feel a sense of pride and affirmation in seeing those MEPA scores shoot right up, especially after such a grueling year. Half of my students improved enough to be mainstreamed into regular English Language Arts classes. I expect there to be a steady stream of newcomers next year, however, and they will likely arrive at random intervals during the school year. My brain definitely needs the summer off - for a very necessary vacation. In September I'll be ready to do it all again, knowing that when there's a will, there's a way. Si se puede!

Au revoir, Le Clink

As I ring in the new year, my thoughts turn both to reflection and a bold look at the road ahead. I hereby bid adieu to 2010, as well as to my tenure as a reading teacher in the juvenile justice system. Yep, I've busted out of jail - but not really by choice. You see, I got laid off a month ago. Even though my brief leisurely schedule was kind of fun, it was not a sustainable situation. A smart person once told me something about necessity being the mother of invention, and in my little world, it is definitely necessary for me to work full-time. Knowing I sure couldn't stay laid off, I hit the pavement and found a brand new gig as a middle school ELL teacher. For those not up on their education acronyms, I'll be teaching English Language Learners, or kids whose primary language is something other than English.

I start Monday. So goodbye, my youthful offenders, whose faces and voices and stories I will treasure and keep with me always. Hello to a new community, new challenges, and the next chapter in my professional life. Maybe I'll have the time and creative energy to refresh my blog and give it a new look. I'll try to make that happen. But I know that my students get first dibs when it comes to their new teacher's time and energy. Kids deserve that, don't they?

Who, What, When, Where, Why, and How

I haven’t posted any Tales in a while.

But that doesn’t mean I have ceased thinking about my students and the meaning of my teaching, and looking for ways to make more and stronger connections with these boys. Even though I am very short on time lately, I wanted to put something down about what’s going on here at G House. But what?

If I spin my teacher’s roulette wheel of memorable moments over the past few months, here’s where the little ball lands: Cesar. He’s the kid who threatened a teacher (not me) in a way that made her both laugh out loud—and wince visibly. What he said to her was, “Miss, I’m gonna stick a pencil up your ass.” I know that this is crude. But this is par for the course in the clink. This isn’t Sunnybrook Farm, you know. Cesar, with shaved eyebrows, eyes the color of wet, dark chocolate, and long, dark, curly hair (always pulled back in a ponytail), was excused from the program. Today. Cesar was brought back to secure treatment in Westfield. Today. It wasn’t only because of this comment; it was because he had threatened plenty of other staff and residents, with words in various languages and dialects, as well as behaviors that translated rather clearly across every culture.

Why? I ask. Why is Cesar so angry? Is it anger? Is it a mental health issue? I only had a sum total of seven short days, truncated by extended bathroom breaks, to try to teach him to read, most of them in a hot, cramped classroom. With one very small, very anemic air conditioner, and with books and materials I had such lofty hopes for, but that never got used. By me. And Cesar. How will he fare? I do not know. I’d like to remain optimistic. Some of these kids can - and really will make it. But sadly, my mind keeps coming back to the word recidivism. I cannot help it. I don’t think Cesar is going to live much of his life beyond prison.

Tase Me, Bro

Today in my Title I reading workshop we're taking a look at an issue that has made recent headlines: the fan at a Phillies game who ran onto the field and was subdued via taser by police. I've just completed 90 or so hours of state-mandated Category 1-4 English Language Learner (ELL) teacher training. Much of this training has focused on methods of modifying instruction for students whose primary language is something other than English. This population of students, which is very culturally diverse, makes up a majority of students within the juvenile justice system. In my ELL training, there's a lot of emphasis on building background, in explicitly linking concepts to students' own personal experiences.

In preparing for this lesson, I think a lot about how I can build background for my students. I'm guessing they've heard about this issue, because the TV is on in the living room downstairs somewhere between frequently and always, and it's tuned to ESPN about 90% of the time. It's a sports issue, I reason, so they'll have to have at least heard of this, right? I pre-teach some of the vocabulary in the NY Times Bats blog post by Justin Sablich ("tased," "appropriate," "force," and "stunt" are a few); we watch a 45 second You Tube clip of the kid running on the field and being taken down; we do a shared reading of the NY Times sports article, "To Tase Or Not To Tase?"; and we listen to a podcast excerpt of the Tony Kornheiser Show in which several sportswriters/commentators discuss the ins and outs of this issue.

True confessions: before teaching the lesson, I pretty much make up my mind that the kids are going to love the fan who ran out on to the field and hate the trigger happy stun gun cop. How could they not? Kids in juvie hate cops, don't they? Plus, every teenage kid probably wants to get his 15 minutes of fame somehow, some way. They'll think the fan is cool and the cop's a jerk. I'm totally convinced of it.

As we finish reading the blog post, Carlos blurts out: "Miss, I've been tased before. It feels like a big shock, and your arms drop and you go down. Oh, and it leaves a big red mark." Raul adds, "Yo Miss, I haven't been tased before, but my brother has. The cop had to hold the trigger down like, mad long, because my brother's really fat, and he had to like, aim it at his ankle and his back and stuff. My brother had like a heart problem and had to go to the hospital when that happened." By the end of the day, I find that all but one of my students have direct experience with being tased. They know how it feels. I don't.

So much for the freshly-trained teacher building all that background. I half laugh to myself as I realize something: they've built the background for me.

We compile a pros and cons wall around the issue, and each kid contributes something to it. Some play devil's advocate, some not. We discuss the rights and wrongs, the who-did-whats and what-would-you-have-dones. At the end of the class, each kid writes a reflection statement in response to the appropriateness of the use of tasers on fans who trespass at a major league ball game. "People need to act right when they're in public," Pablo writes in his response statement. "We couldn't know what the kid was going to do. No one can know. He could have had a weapon. And if the cops had taken him down in a tackle, he could have gotten way more hurt. The taser was an appropriate use of force in this case."

By the end of the day, every kid agreed that it was the fan who was at fault for making a poor decision to run out on to the field. Every kid sided with the cop for using the taser to subdue the fan and control the situation.

I begin to realize that this happens all the time. By 'this,' I mean the prejudging of my students. Lots of people take these kids of color, these kids in lock up, put them in boxes and attach labels: 'Trouble.' 'Lazy.' 'Stupid.' And although I definitely don't see my kids as any of these things, I had sized them up in a certain way because of their status as juvenile offenders. I 'knew' their opinions before hearing what they really thought and reading what they wrote. I made them guilty of something, in my own mind, before hearing their testimony.

Now, some may say that mine isn't such a horrible gaffe. But thoughts, even the tiny, invisible ones, can lead to meaningful behaviors and actions that are detectable by others. I really want my students to be sure, as often as possible, that I believe in them, that I give them the benefit of the doubt. I think all teenagers need guidance by adults who have this attitude. As I reflect on today's lesson, I feel a bit disappointed in myself. I'll try not to make this mistake again. And I suppose what I feel the most is gratitude to these boys for reminding me that teachers, not just students, can learn important lessons in their own classrooms.

It's true I've never been tased. But today I felt a little stun. And it felt good.

The 'Hoodest White Girl You Know

Overheard a moment ago at the end of my 5th period class:

Tariq: "Miss, I'm gonna start calling you Shaniqua. No, Shanaynay."

Me: "Oh yeah? Why is that?"

Tariq: "'Cause you is the 'hoodest white girl I know."

Me: "Wow, thanks Tariq. No one has ever said that to me before."

I try to connect with my students, to work and interact with them in such a way that they don't see me as some uppity white woman who's trying to teach them a brand of literacy that they can't relate to. I want to create a teacher-student connection that makes it easy for them to become better readers.

But I didn't see myself as being 'hood. Oh well. Maybe it's a good thing, after all.

one simple thought

I'm not going to wax too poetic on this blog entry. But I feel an urge to put down this one simple thought: that all of the materials I use to teach comprehension, fluency, vocabulary, phonics, and all the ins and outs of turning out better readers - would never lead to my desired outcomes if I left out one key ingredient: love. There is a certain kind of love that exists in my classroom. It cannot be defined, but it can be detected. My students come from places where they cannot let their guards down, where they lie, steal and cheat to survive. Somehow--I honestly don't know how--I figured out that my success depends on my being able to offer these boys a place where they feel respected, valued and safe on a consistent basis. Mine is a small classroom, but it offers deep dividends in potential for learning. And it's because of love. Without it, I'd be a failure. And I could never live with that.

10 Things On My Winter Vacation To-Do List That Will Help Make Me A Better Teacher

Well, it's Day One of Winter Vacation. Most of the kids at G House didn't even realize that they had this week off when I told them last Friday. From the looks on their faces, you'd have thought I told them they were getting out of the clink early. "You know, you get a week off of school every February," I pointed out. They remained incredulous. I think that so many of these kids have been either incarcerated or truant for so long that they have lost that certain intrinsic rhythm that goes with the public school year.

I have to say that I am every bit as psyched as my students are. I felt this thrill this morning when my eyelids fluttered at 7am, a full two hours later than my normal Monday morning waking time. "Ahhhhh....yesssssss!!!!!" I thought to myself. Vacation week. I closed my eyes, smelled the coffee that the hubs started brewing (normally my task), and made a mental list of all the battery-charging things I will do this week that will, I tell you, WILL make me a better teacher once this week is over and I return to my third floor classroom to fight the good fight and teach my students how to become better readers.

And here's that list:

1. Olympics, Olympics, Olympics. It's all about the Olympics, baby!!! I am an Olympics addict, and this condition started when I was three years old and I watched the 1972 Munich games on a little black and white TV in the house I grew up in in New Jersey. I loved everything about it then, and I have watched every Olympic Games broadcast since. My first job after college was with CBS Sports, where I worked as a runner at the '92 games in Albertville. I didn't "run" as a competitor; rather, "runner" is/was a term that CBS used for temporary hires who worked for the duration of the games. I worked in the videotape archives. CBS housed us in a little ski resort called Valmorel. When we runners weren't working, we skied. There was a little pub at the bottom of the slope, and another one at the top. By the end of the games, Valmorel had been dubbed "Val-immoral." In '98, when I was pregnant with my first son and went into preterm labor at the end of January, I was thrilled out of my mind, because it meant that I would be able to watch each and every second of the Nagano games! The baby ended up being born past his due date. Uh, anyway, I'll be watching as much of the Vancouver 2010 games as I can. Thank goodness for DVR's.

2. Snowshoeing. If there's snow on the ground, I want to put on the 'shoes and go! I am lucky enough to live adjacent to conservation land and a state forest in western Massachusetts. When I want or need to be invisible, commune with nature, and get an excellent workout, opportunity is at my back door. Snow is forecasted for tonight and tomorrow. In the spirit of Napoleon Dynamite, I say yessssssssssssss.

3. Yoga. Why? It's simple, inexpensive, and centering. Plus, I can supervise my kids while practicing my asanas. Om.....

4. Spend time with my kids. I want to do lots of stuff with my sweet little red headed sons: read to them, play games with them, make popcorn, play outside in the snow, make indoor blanket forts, watch movies. I love having more time to do this kind of stuff, because the work/school week is always so darned structured that we tend not to get time to do the fun stuff.

5. Go see the new Percy Jackson movie. My older son is an avid reader, and he devoured the Percy Jackson/Lightning Thief series as soon as each book was published. Some of my students who were formerly reluctant readers have been really turned on by this series. So I'll take the kids to see Percy, and I'll consider it professional development (I'll need to preview this film in order to use clips in my classroom...some day).

6. Watch Season Two, Disc 1 of the HBO series "In Treatment" with Gabriel Byrne and Dianne Wiest. If you haven't seen it, it's a must for your Netflix queue. I could listen to Byrne's Irish brogue all day long.

7. Continue my nightly PTI "date" with the hubs. PTI stands for Pardon The Interruption, which is a show on ESPN that airs at 5:30pm Monday thru Friday evenings. Tony Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon review the day's athetic events in a mock-debate format, offering their colorful commentary and critical insight. The Mr. and I are both lifelong jocks and, I guess you'd say, scholars of the connections between sport and culture. Eww, that sounds so erudite. Mr. Tony would probably tell me to SHUT UP if he read that.

8. Get myself to a museum. I've been wanting to hit Mass MOCA for a while now. I'll take the kids and load us all up with a bit of cultcha.

9. Do a few pedis. As some of you may know, I am indeed a licensed nail technician. Long story. But it's something I do on the side, and I have a few steady clients. And they pay me well. So I'll continue this little moonlighting gig, saving up for that sick mountain bike I've got my eye on...

10. Make my birthday cake. I turn 41 at the end of this week. I want a cheesecake for my birthday cake, dammit. So, over the next few days, I will peruse a few cookbooks and foodie blogs in search of the penultimate cheesecake. And then I will make one. And it will kick booty. And mine will get larger as a result.

There's nothing standing in the way of my accomplishing every task on my Vacation Bucket List. I know that completing each one will make me a better teacher, the way that students become better readers when they have more life experiences to draw from in building that necessary background for richer comprehension. I wish the next week would take a month. Even though it won't, I plan on making the most of every moment during my vacation week. I hope you do, too.

recidivism bites

Last Friday we had a graduation for Jonah, a sixteen year old kid who is the father of two children and has another on the way. At the ceremony, we all bestowed our best wishes upon Jonah, saying positive words of encouragement and reminders about responsibility, hard work, and healthy goals. Jonah thanked everyone, including teachers, staff and other residents, and said he would keep his head up and stay out of trouble. To be honest, I had strong doubts about Jonah's future and his ability to make it out there (and by 'make it' I mean finishing school and getting a legitimate job, as opposed to earning a living as a purveyor of illicit drugs).

This morning I learned that Jonah was arrested for possession of marijuana, which means a few things:

1. he's going back to secure lock-up after only 6 days on the out
2. his community re-entry and education plans are totally derailed
3. I now know why I had such doubts about Jonah

In reading workshop, when I would ask Jonah to describe something in either oral or written format, he used to say to me, "Miss, I know what I am trying to say, but I can't find the words. I don't know...it's just...it's so hard for me." Jonah had also confided (in a very open way) that he had been smoking pot regularly since he was ten years old, and that he didn't know how he was going to make any money in life other than by dealing drugs. I asked him if he thought that plan would work for him in the long term. "What are my other choices?" he replied. "Well, education would be a good start, don't you think?" I offered. "Which would lead to a career path of your choice. It can be done, you know," I told him.

But I always saw a dismissive expression on his face when we had conversations like this one. I never got the impression that Jonah wanted to complete his education and get a job. Maybe he was addicted, to a number of things for a variety of reasons. But I still feel mournful at this latest twist in the tale of Jonah. I'd rather be writing about all the success stories of kids in DYS who actually use their time in custody to turn their lives around. These stories exist and are worthy of wide public broadcast. For now, though, I reflect dolefully on Jonah. Perhaps his latest learning experience will be the catalyst for some sort of positive change.

Man On Wire

I just finished a mini unit on courage and perseverance using the Academy Award-winning documentary film Man On Wire as my focus story. Before watching the film, I indulged in a read-aloud of Mordicai Gerstein's The Man Who Walked Between The Towers. I'm sort of sadly amazed at how much background I need to provide to my students on things I used to think everybody automatically knows, such as What Was The World Trade Center and Where Is New York City and Why Is The World Trade Center Not Standing Anymore. That last one, having to do with a lack of awareness of 9/11, is rare among my students, I must admit. But it is a fact that the kids who come into custody of the Department of Youth Services tend to be 1)lacking in formal schooling, 2)from families that either cannot or do not support learning, and 3)are ELL's. Hence, I need to pre-teach a lot of stuff. On the other hand, that's why I'm here, right? I love teaching, reading and learning side by side with my students. So I guess I'm in my dream job.

"Can you 'see' yourself in this story?" I ask them, reminding them that we comprehend stories in many ways, two important ones being feeling and visualizing. "Miss, I would never do what he did. To walk on a wire up in the air, that far up? No way. Maybe I'd try it if there were, like, a trampoline or something underneath me."

I give an empathetic chuckle. "I hear you on that one. I can't see myself as a wire walker, either. But what do you think Philippe Petit's story has to tell us about things like following a dream and never giving up? Is there a message there for us?"

One of my students, Miguel, raises his hand. "Miss, it's like he's telling us that we are powerful beyond our wildest dreams. All we have to do is think it, dream it, and we can do it. I hear his message. I get it."

I look at Miguel, my eyes wide and glassy. "Yes, you get the message. You are all so capable and powerful," I tell them.

May my students set their goals in high and healthy places. And may they embody the true meaning of perseverance. I'll help in any way I can.

she's got a gripe

It's rant time.

For one thing, I still don't have internet access in my classroom. All the cool web-based lessons I used last year - poof! Gone. I keep hearing that a wi-fi hookup is coming, but I've given up hoping and waiting. It'll never happen. Sure, there are plenty of other paths to literacy, methods of instruction that don't require electricity, much less a computer. But what about the "new literacies?" Those podcasts, wikis, blogs, video technologies, gaming software, technologies that establish communities on the web, and search engines are a huge part of the changing landscape of reading and reading instruction. If we are expected to prepare our students as readers, writers and thinkers, we need to include in our instruction the kind of information that they will be accessing at home and in the workplace. No internet = no brainer = no wonder there's such a growing gap between the what students do in school and what they do at home. This has to be addressed. YES, EVEN IN THE CLINK.

The other half of my bitch session has to do with other unenlightened colleagues who think that if you only see one or two students at a time, you've really got it easy. There's one co-worker in particular that comes to mind here. She has a tendency to imply this sort of thing when in conversation with me. It's getting to be pretty irksome. Title I reading is a pull-out, intensive, individualized method of reading instruction that offers, as a perk, a shitload of paperwork for progress monitoring and tracking. It isn't the regular classroom; it's not supposed to be.

Okay, enough for now. I won't get into the cleanliness issues I face in my new classroom (remember, it's a third shift hangout for staff who "need" to watch TV to stay awake). I won't mention how I come in each morning to find food containers, greasy handprints and God knows how many strains of viruses on my desk. Oh, and the adjacent bathroom? Oh golly, I won't go into how it has paper towels littered all over the floor...ramen noodles clogging the sink...pee splattered all over the toilet seat. Nah. I'll keep those juicy tidbits to myself.

Wait...what's that sound? It's Gloria Gaynor's voice, loud and clear. I hear ya, Glo!And I'll do more than survive.

OMG!

If I were writing the supermarket tabloid version of my experiences in the clink--the kind where only the Most Shocking And Outrageous Headlines made it to print--here's what you'd see:

"Cell Phone And Charger Found In Resident Rec Room! No One's Admitting Anything!" (editor's note: remember, in jail they don't let you have cell phones...or chargers)

"Three Residents Infected With MRSA! Really Poor Hygiene Or Illicit Sexual Contact To Blame? Or Both?!?"

"Resident On Anti-Psychotic Medication Regularly Cheeks His Meds - And Gives It To Other Residents So They Can Get High!"

"Generous Parent Donates TV To Juvenile Detention Center - With Hidden Gun Inside?!?"

"Resident Steals Scissors From Classroom, Eludes Guards And Holds Case Worker Hostage!"

(related to previous scandalous headline) "Although Guards Were To Blame For Not Noticing Scissors In Resident's Sock, Guards Get Mild Reprimand While Teacher Whose Classroom They Were Taken From Gets Shit-Canned!!"

"Guard Engages In Sexual Activity With Resident On Third Shift While Others Either Sleep Or Look Away!"

It's a crazy, crazy approach to teaching in this place. It's a far cry from Waldorf education. Being a teacher in the clink requires a certain constant watchfulness that I never had to muster when I was teaching in public schools. There is much possibility for chaos, and even more chance for danger.

So why do I do it?

I teach reading to these kids because they've gotten the short end of the stick in life, and they need someone to give them a chance to succeed, in spite of everything. And that "everything" means their criminal records, their angry dispositions, and their convictions that they're still going to keep hustling when they're discharged. That's the hard part: when I overhear my students making plans to get back on the street to keep dealing, stealing and gangbanging. Makes me disappointed, dejected, depressed.

But I won't give up.