I've gone back and forth about whether or not to write this post. I don't know who's in the blogosphere these days - professors or administrators or peers or teachers - anyone and everyone has access to this blog. For that reason, the names and places in this post have been changed.
That being said, I just finished my first week of clinicals in a CPS high-school. High-five to myself! I know most of you don't know or care about the specifics of my program, but I feel like it's important for you to know why I'm teaching in an inner-city high-school this semester. As a Special Education major at Loyola, I get certified to teach kindergarden through twelfth grade. As a result, I get to have 'clinical' experience in an elementary school (enjoyed this experience), a middle school (hated this experience), and a high-school (so far, so good). Clinical experience basically means I'm somewhere between being an observer and a student teacher. I'm not sitting in the back of the room watching, but I'm not in charge of leading all instruction either. I circulate the room, complete different projects for class, sometimes teach lessons, and help out where needed. Basically, my job is to learn as much as possible about what's actually happening in the schools and what that means as I enter the field.
The first week in my high-school has been a mix of things. Before I tell you too much about what I've experienced, I'll tell you a little about the school. We'll call the high-school Littleton. Littleton is in a neighborhood of Chicago that has the highest rate of foreclosures in the midwest. The crime rate is three times higher than the national average. Through all of the ups-and-downs of the economy, this neighborhood has been hit hard. Many people are without jobs and, as a result, living in poverty. The parents who do have jobs work extremely odd hours. This is just one factor that contributes to a lack of parent support at Littleton. My cooperating teacher had one parent show up to back-to-school night. 1 parent out of 150 students that she teaches. There's a decent amount of students who don't have accurate addresses or phone numbers on file. 95% of the student-body qualifies for the free lunch program. I have to walk through a metal-detector to get into the building. This afternoon when I walked outside, there were five police cars parked on the street in front of the building - normal precaution. In the past few years, students have been required to purchase uniforms, because gang colors and violence were becoming too much of an issue. Littleton is 400-500 students over-capacity. Not only does my cooperating teacher not have her own classroom, but her office is in the back of the gym-locker room. The average ACT score is 14.9, six points lower than the CPS average. At Littleton, the students who are considered high-achievers would be considered low-achievers at most suburban schools. Daily, I see students in general education who cannot read or identify the main ideas and supporting details of a written passage. I could keep going, but I'm sure you're starting to get the picture.
Needless to say, Littleton is a hard-core inner city school. On my first day, I felt like I was walking into a movie. To calm my nerves and muster up some courage on Tuesday, I channeled some Hilary Swank. Littleton really isn't too far off from that clip. Being there for the past few days has been a mix of sad, eye-opening, discouraging, and frustrating. On the other hand it's also been affirming, encouraging, full of hope, and brimming with promise. I have been paired with a special education teacher, and I follow her around to two inclusion classrooms, three self-contained classrooms, and countless meetings per day.
There's a whole lot of dysfunction and chaos happening at Littleton; I've seen more non-examples this week than I though possible. I've witnessed the worst lesson planning, team collaboration, and classroom management ever. I watched a teacher bribe a student. I watched a teacher tell students that he knew they weren't going to understand the material, he knew it was too difficult for them, but they should try it anyway. "That's how you'll learn," he said. In my brain I'm thinking, where does student success come in? I watched teachers in a team meeting exclaim that a new initiative is just too much work, time and effort, and the school should just hold off another year. I heard teachers openly proclaim that they want to do as little work possible. I listened to a lead teacher tell others in a meeting that he is switching the type of assessment from free response format to multiple choice, because it just takes too long to grade. Call me crazy, but shouldn't we design assessment based on what we're measuring, not our own convenience? I saw inclusion happening the way it's not supposed to. I saw the special education professional get talked down to like an assistant. I got informed by the general education teacher that, "Those kids in the back? They're my LD and BD, and they really can't do anything on their own unless Ms. Frizzle is by them." My inner-dialogue at this point, 'Are you an idiot? Why are you a teacher?' I've channeled this movie numerous times this week as well, especially when dealing with people who just shouldn't be allowed to be in the classroom. I listened to teachers make fun of my cooperating teacher, saying that she doesn't do anything, isn't a real teacher, and "Why did they give you this girl who wants to be a teacher?" Uh, the school placed me with her because she knows a lot. And she's really freaking good at her job. I listened to kids use derogatory comments toward women and students of other races. I heard students who were surprised that I'm in college, want to be a teacher, and want to be at Littleton.
I don't want you to think I'm sitting here complaining about my placement. I loved it. I would rather spend all of my time at Littleton than being in classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. Tuesdays and Thursdays are, by far, going to be the best days this semester. Here's why: They have one foot in the door with change. Systems change takes between 3-5 years, and they are working hard to set up a new framework. They are well on their way of implementing both the academic and behavioral sides of the triangle. They have prevention set up and interventions in place. In the past few years of putting RTI in place, they have seen a drastic change in their students. It's been good. Hard work, but it's paying off. Where they are this year is a complete 180 from where they were two years ago. They are making improvements. They have a team of teachers at the forefront of change, my cooperating professional included. Yes, they are running into setbacks. Yes, there are teachers, including the few I mentioned above, who are completely resistant to it. They don't have an ideal school, clearly. It's not perfect, but what's happening there is absolutely inspiring. It's encouraging for me to know that next year, if I choose to work in CPs, my skills and knowledge about RTI, PBIS, and the systems change that's happening will be put to good use. I have a skill set that can bring change to schools like Littleton. That's encouraging for me. That's hopeful. That's full of promise. Maybe it's too optimistic, but so be it. Being in an environment where I can see change happening and I can see it benefitting students is life-giving, and it's the best reminder of why I'm doing what I'm doing. To channel Ben Battaglia, I'm geared up about it!
I have nine more weeks at Littleton. That means nine more weeks of 5:30am wake-ups. Nine more weeks of long days. Nine more weeks of packing my lunch (utterly annoying). Nine more weeks of teachers who don't get it. Nine more weeks of teachers who do. Nine more weeks of soaking in as much information as possible. Nine more weeks of getting to know my students. Nine more weeks of teaching. Nine more weeks of helping. Nine more weeks of encouraging Nine more weeks of watching their brains in motion. Nine more weeks of witnessing change. Nine more weeks full of reminders of why I'm going into education.
I know it's not going to be easy. If there's one thing you should know, it's the teaching is not easy. It's actually really hard. I know I'll be tired and frustrated on more than one occasion, but I also know that it's going to be good. I'm going to learn a lot. I love teaching - the good and the bad that comes with it. And I feel like I'm in the right place, doing the right thing, at the right time. If anything, this week has confirmed that CPS is where I want to be once I graduate. It's dysfunction, that's for sure. But I'm ready for the chaos.
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