All Children Can Learn

*Disclaimer: The writing of the following post was accompanied by two (large) glasses of wine...if I ramble, it's not my fault.

When you decide to become a teacher, one of the core beliefs you are required to believe is that "All Children Can Learn."

I think somewhere deep down, I still believe it, but that belief is tested each and every day. I stopped being an idealistic new teacher who thought that I could reach all my kids years ago (for that matter, I'm not sure if I ever really was that crazy).

What they forget to tell you about are two groups.

Group A: Kids who won't learn.

Group B: Kids who are so far behind they can't learn what I'm there to teach them.

As we come to the end of the school year, these are the two groups that keep me awake at night. Actually, that's a lie. They've kept me awake since the beginning of the year.

I had a couple of really frustrating conversations/encounters today that I just can't seem to shake.

This year we have a trio of n'er-do-wells that I've tried my best to help. For the sake of anonymity, we'll call them Jacob, Washington, and Warren. They've been friends since 9th grade, and a pain in the side of each and every teacher, administrator and staff member that has had contact with them since.

Jacob and Warren are actually really bright. In terms of pure intellect, I'd put them up there with some of the top kids in our current senior class. Washington has more problems, but isn't a dumb kid by any means. Unfortunately, they've all decided that the rules just don't apply to them.

They're all failing classes. They're all on Academic Probation. But they won't show up, and when they do show up they're all so vulgar and rude that I end up kicking them out. I know they have crappy home lives. I know they have tons of baggage that they bring with them to school. I know that they CAN learn. Jacob and Warren are two of the less than 20 kids I have that read at grade level. They just do everything in their power to avoid any actual learning. They're late to class. Jacob has managed to turn in EVERY paper all year late. You let them go to the bathroom, they end up playing basketball in the gym. They come to school high. These are kids who SHOULD pass. They COULD pass. The only thing getting in their way is themselves.

The flip side is Walker. Walker is one of the hardest working kids you could ever imagine. As one of my co-workers brilliantly said, he's Forrest Gump. He does everything asked of him. He follows instructions exactly as they were given (which, more often than not, makes you realize that you need to be more precise in giving instructions). But he reads and writes at a 4th grade level, if I'm being generous. He's going to graduate high school reading at a 4th grade level. He came to talk to me today because he'd read a book and then failed the online test for it. It was a 5th grade level book. He could only answer 4 out of the 10 questions correctly.

At the beginning of the year, Walker told me that he wants to be a doctor. He's since changed his plans to wanting to be a nurse. If this kid ever walks into my hospital room as anything more than an orderly, I'm checking myself out AMA. Can he learn? Yes. Can he improve his reading and writing 8 grade levels in one year? No.

Do I believe that all children can learn? Yes. But they have limits. They don't all learn at the same speed. They don't all have the same aptitude. No, they all can't be doctors. But where do we draw the line? If we decide not to leave anyone behind, we all have to go as slow as the slowest. If we're racing for the top, someone's at the bottom.

I'm really starting to question the school choice movement. I'm starting to question charter schools. In theory, they're great. Smaller schools where we can really tailor our instruction and school plan to our students' needs. The problem is that not all schools are right for all kids. There's no such thing as a one-size-fits-all school. Unfortunately, because charter schools are public schools we have to play by the public school rules with a totally different mission. We're supposed to make all our kids college ready, but we have to accept special needs students no matter how severe their issues. We aren't allowed to have a competitive admissions process, but we're supposed to get all our kids prepared for a competitive admissions process. It would be one thing if the parents understood enough to understand that the "math and science school" isn't the right place for their talented artist, but most of the parents just hear "it's a good school" and decide that means it will be a good school for their kid. It just doesn't work out that way. We're really good with some kids. We're really not good with a bunch of other kids. And unless we're good with everyone we get, we risk our existence. But what are we supposed to do when we have kids who just flat out refuse to learn. Kids who refuse to take advantage of the opportunities they're given. Kids who won't be "college-ready" no matter how hard they (and we) try.

I found out this week that our after school online credit recovery program costs $1000 per student. We have to offer it free to the students, so the organization that runs our after school program has shelled out $20k for our most needy students to have a chance to graduate. And they won't show up. We aren't allowed to tell them that the program costs anything (let alone $20k), we aren't allowed to make them pay the school back for the wasted money, we have to just sit back and watch them fail at $1000 a pop.

How many extra chances can we possibly give?

Playing The Hand You're Dealt (or, why I could never be a classroom teacher forever)

It's no secret to anyone who's talked to me in the past few months that this has been one of the most challenging school years of my career.

A friend recently told me that his girlfriend had told him that it's a waste of time to try to figure out what made the kids the way they are and that instead you just need to do your best with the hand you were dealt.

I can't do that. I wish I could, but I can't.

I understand the wisdom of it, but it just goes against everything in my nature. I've decided that people can be broken into two camps: those who do the best with what they have, and those who aren't willing to accept what they have and think it could be better. Said another way, there are those who do their best within the system, and those who want to fix the system. I'm solidly in the second camp.

I keep being reminded of one of my favorite quotes from Game of Thrones: “The common people pray for rain, healthy children and a summer that never ends. It is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they are left in peace.” I think it's really true. Most people make do and do their best with what they have. They keep their heads down and for the most part do what they have to do. 

I work with a bunch of great (probably better than me in a lot of cases) teachers who do just that. They do their best with the kids they've been dealt each and every year. They don't look around their classroom and see the problems they're dealing with as the end result of a broken system that has fucked everyone in it over.

I do.

Yes, some of the problems were created by me. Others are the end result of school-wide policies that sounded good on paper and are turning out disastrous in practice. Others are the end result of NCLB or IDEA or any other of the myriad edicts from on high. 

This is why I'm fascinated by politics. Far too many people ignore the political scene because they have too much else to deal with. They have a job to do, kids to raise, dinner to get on the table, and see little connection between the squabbles between politicians and the realities of their lives. They're focused on doing the best they can within the small sphere they live in.

Politicians are a different breed. Underneath all the gridlock, all the animosity, all the inaction are a group of people who looked at their world and said "I can do better." Whether they actually manage to is a different story, but I firmly believe that no one has ever run for office because they looked around and thought "Yep, the world is exactly how I like it, nothing should change."

I like the big picture. What's going on in the little picture can usually be directly connected to the big picture. It's all well and good to pray for rain and healthy children, but the games the high lords play affect us all.

At some point, I know I'm going to leave the little picture of my classroom. I don't know where I'll go from there, but I know I'm going. Maybe I'll stay home for a little bit, but someday I want to play the big game. Administration? Maybe. Policy PhD? Maybe.

I can do better.

Consumerism

I'm not a crazy granola-crunchy, attachment-parenting, worried about everything hyper-liberal mom (no, Time Magazine, I'm not "Mom enough," but thanks for asking). I'm not some psycho mama-grizzly from "real America." I'm just a mom somewhere in the middle trying to do what's right.

I try to be a conscientious consumer, but day after day I'm finding it harder and harder. Maybe part of it is that I'm trying to balance too many things all at once. Maybe part of it is that I have too much time to stand in the grocery store paralyzed between the various choices.

I want to help my budget at home = buy cheap

I want to help the national economy = buy American

I want to shield my daughter from unnecessary chemicals = buy organic

I want to shield the planet from unnecessary fossil fuels = buy local

And that's just a start.

I have trouble getting Lily to eat protein that isn't soy based. One of the few forms of meat she'll eat is spaghetti and meatballs. So, last week I headed out to go buy ingredients for spaghetti and meatballs.

Because my husband is diabetic, I have to buy the Dreamfields pasta that I can only reliably find at our local Vons.

I've been trying to avoid canned tomatoes when possible (I'm not afraid of all plastic bottles, but having read up on the whole BPA in canned tomatoes issue, and given the amount of tomato sauce we rely on, it seems like something to avoid when possible), so I wanted to buy the kind in a box. Those are only available at the Italian deli down the street.

I also prefer to buy grass-fed beef, since it's usually leaner, has more nutritional value, and, when it comes right down to it, tastes better. There are two stores nearby that sell it, but at one the beef is imported from Uruguay, and at the other the beef is imported from Australia. Hmm...what do I care more about? Nutrients or carbon footprints?

In the end, I gave in and headed for Vons since the diabetes is the most pressing of the various issues. I ended up buying Bison from Colorado instead of the beef (not sure if it's actually a better choice nutritionally, but at least it's not coming from halfway around the world). I bought prepared marinara sauce in a glass jar instead of buying the canned tomatoes so that I could make my own. In the end I didn't feel overly guilty about any of the various purchases, and Lily ate her spaghetti and meatballs happily.

Even so, the amount of thinking and planning and compromising that went into just that one meal seemed crazy. Not to mention that buying the special pasta and the ($8/lb!!) bison and the prepared marinara sauce means that our basic spaghetti and meatballs dinner was really fairly expensive. Fortunately, our family is financially in a place where we can afford to make those choices, but for far too many people it's just not possible.

I have friends on all sides of the shopping ideology spectrum, from those on limited budgets whose only real concern is finding food cheap, to those who don't really cook and rely on frozen pizza and prepared meals, to those who are fanatical about certain issues (the gluten-free, vegan, all organic, farmer's market only, crowd). I try to split the difference and make the best decisions I can without driving all over town, spending a fortune, or going insane.

Part of me honestly doesn't understand why it's so hard. I have to imagine that I'm not the only one trying to be economically, environmentally, and nutritionally sound while also being practical and living my life. I just want to be able to make good choices for my family, my community, and my planet all at the same time.