can’t escape

Here’s a little story from my world here in Atlanta as I continue my training in becoming a teacher:

A week ago, the stars aligned. The gods of teaching were looking over me. The Big Boss upstairs rested her favorable hand upon me. Okay, what I’m trying to say is that I had a good day in the classroom. The lesson plan was thoroughly planned. The execution was just right. And the kids knocked the end of class assessment out of the park.

That afternoon, long after the kids were gone, my colleagues and I sat through a class to learn more about lesson planning. I was asked to deliver a portion of the lesson I had given that morning. My colleagues would act as my fifth graders. It was the classic role play situation. I reluctantly agreed.

And so I started in on my lesson on how one identifies a plot structure in a story. And I kept going. And kept going. I wondered when the specialist who was leading our session would cut me off. She wasn’t. I finally stopped and said, “I think I went beyond the portion of the lesson you wanted me to do.” She silently shook her head. She turned to my colleagues and asked for feedback. After more silence, someone finally said, “I feel like I’ve just been to church.”

Filed under: church, teaching

the tie ceremony

Investment. Teach For America has taught me that part of the strategy for getting kids to learn is to get them invested in learning. This past Friday, my first Friday with my fifth grade class, I devised a plan to invest my kids in learning: the tie ceremony.

As I pounded away on my lesson plan on Thursday night I remembered what I was like on Fridays at school: useless. As a student, I knew early on that Friday meant the weekend was upon me. I remember not wanting to do much of anything at school on Fridays. But time is short in summer school and I needed these kids to give me their very best; hence, the tie ceremony.

I started my lesson on Friday by inviting the kids to the carpeted area of the room. I told them about Ira and about how some didn’t think Ira would make it. Some gave Ira very little chance of survival. But Ira fought hard and did, in fact, overcome. I told them all of this while showing them pictures of Ira and capped it off with a video of Ira as he is now. They were captivated.

I then told them that some people don’t really give them much of a chance. These people have seen their reading and math scores and have witnessed their behavior and have decided that these 5th graders don’t have a chance. I then leaned in and whispered, “But I know different. You have a brain that no one can take away from you. And I know that you are more than capable of proving these people wrong. But I need you guys to step it up today. I need you guys to get serious. You know what helps me get serious? Putting on this tie every morning. I just happened to bring a bunch of ties with me today. I’m wondering if you guys want to get serious about learning today so that you can prove all those people wrong out there who say you don’t have a chance.”

Some immediately raised their hands to receive a tie. Some couldn’t contain themselves and jumped up off the carpet begging for a tie. All of them were beside themselves. They so want to be taken seriously. And so each one of them, one by one, received a pre-knotted tie. After we tightened up the knot, they were instructed to turn to their peers and declare, “I’m ready to learn today.”

And they did.

These kids want nothing more than to be given a chance.

Filed under: education, hope, teaching

one word: busy

So this is how it works in Atlanta training with Teach For America. I wake up at 5 a.m. I get breakfast in Georgia Tech’s cafeteria (that’s where we’re being housed) at 5:45 and at 6:30 I board the bus that will take around 50 of us to a local school where kids are in summer school. We are in the school by 7 a.m. working away in our classrooms getting ready for kids who will arrive at 8 a.m. We teach until noon, when the kids go home, we then have learning sessions that last until 5 PM. I get off the bus at Georgia Tech and eat dinner. I get back to the dorm and settle in for a night of work planning thorough, manuscripted lessons that must be turned in to people in high positions – first a rough draft and then a final draft later on. I probably average five to six hours of work a night. Average.

So let’s do the math. I’m at my school ten hours a day. I’m averaging five hours of work at night. That means I’m putting in 15 hours of work a day. Every day. I’ve been doing this the past two weeks. I’ve got three more to go.

It’s not an unusual sight to see someone curled up in a corner crying. It’s a highly intense environment. And those with weak stomachs break easily. The rumor mill is that one person quit a couple of days ago. Considering there are 546 of us from different regions here in Atlanta training to be teachers in some of America’s neediest schools, one person quitting isn’t so bad. Thankfully, the regional staff (there is a Teach For America staff that works year round just to make this Atlanta Institute happen) is incredibly supportive.

And so now you know why I’m not blogging so much these days. It’s just that I really want my kids to learn how to identify the main idea and the theme of a selected passage. I really want them to believe they have the skills to do so. Because I know they do.

And for the record, I love what I’m doing. Love it. Even the 15 hour work days aren’t enough from keeping me from loving it.

Filed under: Blogging, teaching

hello? anyone out there?

I’m not sure if any have made the switch from the ccfb wordpress blog. For those of you that have, welcome to the new blog. I’m sorry there hasn’t been much content to be found here.

To say that life’s been a little hectic would be an understatement. We arrived in St. Louis two weeks ago. I started an orientation process the Monday after we arrived. Ira went into the hospital the following Thursday. He was released on Sunday. I flew to Atlanta that day to train with Teach For America. Sophia went to a sleepover camp that day. I’ve been here a week. I’ve got four more weeks to go. The transitions just keep coming. Oh, and did I mention there is a baby on its way?

Lord, see us through.

Now, on to the lesson planning.

Peace, friends.

Filed under: Blogging, family, transition

gears shifted

We’re officially in St. Louis – or, The Lou, if you’re cool. Laura and the kids arrived on Friday afternoon. I arrived on Saturday afternoon. And for the most part, we’ve settled in. Our beds are put together – hey, can i get an ‘amen’ for putting Ira and Sophia’s cheap IKEA bunk bed back together? – we’ve signed up for access to the city pool, and Sophia went to check out her new school.

Tonight, I begin a long summer of training with Teach For America. And I’m absolutely excited about it. But it was weird this past weekend to not have church responsibilities crowding my every thought. And it will be weird to meet new people tonight and over the next few weeks and speak about church ministry by using verbs in the past tense. I trained so long and hard to enter into the field of church ministry and now I’m not in it. I’m not sure how I feel about that but I can say that this past weekend, there was a gaping hole in my life. I’m praying the hole will be filled with this new endeavor and that it will be as equally fulfilling as church ministry was.

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Change is coming to my blog. My good friend, Kenny, is working on getting a new blog started for me so that CCFB can rightly claim this blog as their own. My new blog address will be…get ready for it…because the address will blow you away…ready?…okay, here goes:

joehays.wordpress.com

Wait, wait, wait. It’s not ready yet but it will be. Kenny’s swamped with work so it won’t happen for a while but I’m hoping that by announcing this over and over again, my mom and dad will catch on at some point. I think this is what those big dogs in DC call a preemptive strike.

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To officially inaugurate the new changes in my world, I give you this to consider and debate:

The term self-fulfilling prophesy, with regard to education, means that students perform in ways in which teachers expect. Their performance is based on subtle and sometimes not so subtle messages from teachers about students’ worth, intelligence, and capability.

Agree? Disagree?

Filed under: Blogging, CCfB, church, education, family, moving