Reflection on a Problem Student

A post at The Desert Glows Green brought to surface a dilemma I'm having about one of my students at night school. What does one do with a student who talks, talks, talks?

Last night I had a conversation with the counselor about a student whom I have in both proficiency English and creative writing. He's been a pain in my butt most of the year, so it's been an on-going conversation between us, and it has has gone between the counselor and the student, too. One night I had enough and sent her an e-mail along the lines of, "Talk to this kid, or tomorrow there will be a homicide." It's a small school, so she grabbed him out of class that very night. The line of the conversation between them leaned heavily on the fact that he's a leader, and he's leading the wrong way--this was a slant I wanted to focus on. According to the counselor, the student wants to do well, he wants to graduate, but I just don't see that most of the time. Apparently he's so much better than he used to be. I guess I'm thankful I am working with the new and improved version.

Although he needs the help to pass his proficiencies, we are thinking about taking him out of that class because he leads too many people astray with his attitude and misbehavior. Part of me does not want to give up on him, but then he is directly affecting the development of two other students. In a class of 10, that's a pretty big deal. He goofs off, talking Spanish all the time with three other boys (one will pass his proficiency), and then when I'm on their asses to get on task, it ruins the class atmosphere, and it becomes me and against them.

Now, the rest of the class, they are able to function pretty well despite these disruptive boys. Sometimes they'll join in and laugh at a joke or something, but with such a small class, I think that's normal. The difference is, the rest of them can get back on task. The rest of them produce writing. The rest of them understand that the more they write, the more feedback I can give them, the faster they will become proficient. The rest of them are acting maturely, even to the point they tell the boys to be quiet and get on task. Two of the students in the class are also ELL students who do not speak Spanish, and they get irritated with all the Spanish speaking, too, and will often tell them to stop speaking in Spanish. These other students I adore.

While I am writing this, the obvious choice, since I have one, is to dump him from the proficiency class. Although the counselor and I would like for him to pass his proficiencies and graduate, at this point we are leaning toward the stance that if the student does not want to help himself he can go down the hallway to art, which is also an elective credit, and leave the class to those who are desperate to help themselves. He doesn't want to be in the class anyway, and if he knew we were considering it, he'd be camped out in the counselor's office until she changed his schedule.

Last night, the class was smaller than it usually is, sans the students with a bad attitude and one of his friends, with the gradebook closed out for the quarter and a five-day weekend ahead, we sat at a table ready to play word game, but instead the students asked me about how much money I made. They always want to know that, and the technical answer is that we all make different amounts because we have different levels of experience and education. It's uncomfortable, but I told them how much I make, which blew them away. However, that segued nicely into a long conversation about education and careers and how hard and long the average person has to work to make good money. Not one of the students believed that they would be able to get rich quick. They are all preparing to work hard in the next few years so they can play hard later in life. That's a refreshing perspective I don't often see in young people.

They shared with me their plans, hopes, dreams, and fears. It's moments like this I love working at the alternative high school. It's these in-between moments when I'm a different kind of teacher, and even more like a friend or wise auntie, that I really feel like I make a difference in their lives. I can push and prod them to get more education, be it a certification program or a college degree and try a career, instead of a job. They are on the brink of the rest of their lives, and they understand how important their choices are right now. Yes, they are nervous but mostly excited. Some simply need to pass their proficiency test to they can move on, while others finally see that their abilities to communicate will make a huge difference in the opportunities they have.

On my drive home, I reflected back to the conversations and questions they had, and I realized that had the problem student been there, it would not have been such a candid discussion. He would have turned everything into a joke, focusing the attention on himself. It's what he does in every situation. He needs to go. He's not at the same place the rest of the students in his class are in. They are growing up. He's not there yet.

Coincidence Comes Crashing to Weirdness

As a matter of coincidence, two of my high school students ran into each other at a local hospital this weekend.

Do you realize how many hospitals we have and how big they are?

The reason they were both there?

Both of the young men are became proud papas.

No joke.

When I found out, I made them show me pictures of their new babies. I think it's important to be supported of these young parents.

One baby looked cute. One baby looked angry.

Then the boys started talking about the birthing process their baby mamas went through with another, female, student who has given birth.

Sometimes life in my classroom is so weird.

Ama

I have been an English teacher for long enough that I can see why students make certain mistakes. Most of them are quite predictable, so I typically try to address the common problems before I see it too much. Usually the students are quite shocked to find that they are even making errors. Often my bilingual students are the worst because they do not understand that what we say is not what we write.

The evolution of cause (worse: cuz) is easy to explain to students.

Incorrect usage: My sister boyfriend is a tool cause he dropped out of school.
Of course, that sentence does not make sense because, technically, cause is the wrong word. It makes no sense in the context.

So, I show students: because --> 'cause --> cause --> cuz.

I don't need to give you the details; you know how this disaster happens. It has to do with how we speak. No big deal, right? Just use the real word in your writing. Are you imagining me in front of the classroom explaining this devolution? I always like those days because I see light bulbs going off all over the classroom along with a chorus of "Oh! I didn't know!" From juniors and seniors! Hilarious!

In the last few years, I have seen of joins the verb ranks, nearly putting poor have out of a job. This one is frustrating and harder to explain to students who simply want to use the language well enough to pass their proficiency writing exams and get a job. Even more, it's absolutely entertaining seeing students who know the difference interact with students who don't.

A conversation between two students in my creative writing class:

"'My brother should of given me some money.' This is suppose to be have not of."
"Huh?"
"It's should HAVE, not should OF."
"Are you sure?"
"YES! SHOULD HAVE. HAVE. HAVE!"
"Uhm. Okay. I guess--Hey, Ms. HappyChyck, is it should have or should of?"

And then a series of eye rolls follow (between me and the students who know the answer to this easy question) as I calmly answer, "Yep, it's have."

It's during time like those that all the suffering I endure being a blasted English teacher is worth it.

As in tune as I am to these common writing issues in my classroom, so much that I hardly blink an eye over them, this week one of my students who just joined my class this quarter introduced me to a new crazy devolution of language.

AMA

As in, "Ama miss you next year." This is what the student wrote in a letter to a teacher she was thanking for helping her in her education. A letter, I need to add, that would be given to her teacher--not just a random writing assignment. A real letter on nice paper! Time to make a good impression!

I called her over to so I could help her revise, and I said, "What the heck is this?"
"Ama."
"You mean, 'I am going to,' right?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"You should change it. Nobody is going to know what you're saying. Use some real words, even if they are contractions."
"Oh no, Miss, she'll get it!"
"I doubt it."
"No, she will!" And then the girl went bouncing back to her seat like she had no worries in the world.

Does anyone have a gun? A needle? Please, shoot me now!

I just sat like the speechless, powerless fool I am.

Sometimes I hate being an English teacher.

A Two-Eraser Day for My Seniors

Last night was I so blasted irritated with my seniors because they were just off-the-hook crazy and loud. Some of them needed to revise some essays they had started and never finished, and before they left, I wanted to give them a pep talk for the Writing Proficiency Exam there were to take today.

High stakes writing exam. Most of them had already taken it once (and failed), and most of them really wanted to pass so they can graduate in January. Super high stakes for them! So, you'd think they'd calm down and let me get a few words of wisdom in, wouldn't ya?

Today, was a different story, though. Half the class was still taking the test (3 hours later!) and those who finished were confident and joyful that they had passed, yet utterly brain dead from the experience.

Because they expressed pride in themselves, and gratitude to me, I gave them the night off from thinking.

And they were so exhausted from testing, they were super quiet. A couple played hangman on the board. A few talked quietly between themselves, and several just zoned out with headphones.

I love it when they think so much they wear themselves out!

In any case, I'm very proud of them, and I will be broken-hearted if they don't pass.

P.S. Apparently one of the topics was about the importance of staying in high school instead of dropping out and going to work. Or something. Hellllloooo! This topic was meant for my students! These are the kids who have dropped out or been kicked out of regular high school. At one time or another, they have reflected on how important getting that education is and have some to our school. They should have profound thoughts on the topic!

From the Tattle Tale Files

Mister Teacher posted an anecdote about the Princess Tattler he has this year. Who doesn't loathe tattlers?

Since I teach at the secondary level, I don't have too much tattling, and when I do, it's usually kids just goofing around. "Miss! He hit me, poked me, looked at me, took my pencil, or did something I obviously cannot deal with on my own."

I used to answer, "Well, what did YOU do to provoke him?" Doesn't it usually seem that the tattler is often the instigator?

Lately I've been amusing myself with responses such as, "Well, them I'm going to have to hang him upside down and throw darts at him." Or, "I'm going to have to banish him to another realm."

When dealing with my own children I say, "Well, I'm just going to beat the shit out of him. Does that sound like a good solution?" (Their eyes get wide and they run off and deal with their petty issues without my help. In case you aren't a regular reader, of course I wouldn't follow through on that threat. Even if it does sound like a good idea.)

Mister Teacher's post brought to mind an incident with my high schoolers last week. If you think it's irritating to have 2nd graders tattle, try 12th graders. It's hard for me to not completely go off about their immaturity when they tattle, so I generally ignore them. However, I did put one of my senior boys in his place (he was left speechless) last week:

"Miss! She's bugging to me! I'm trying to concentrate." As far as I had observed, he had not been concentrating most of the night. And who was he tattling on? His own girlfriend.

"Listen," I said, "You're going to be a dad soon. Leave her alone. She's eight months pregnant, and you need to treat her with a little more respect. Stop tattling already! Daddies don't do that. You need to GROW UP!"

That poor pregnant girl has TWO kids to raise.