Skip to main content

More Regrets

I talked briefly about some of the regrets I have here but I've thought of more.  Fortunately, there are many, many things I do not regret (like the feelings paper), but there are a few things I would like to do differently.

Most of my regrets have to do with adult bullying.  I think many people wouldn't classify it as such but I would.  For example:

I regret that, when I was volunteering in a class after I stopped teaching, that I did not stand up to a bullying teacher.  She was a fantastic teacher - for any student who was willing to sit still, behave the way she wanted, and learn by direct instruction.  However, when children had learning difficulties, behavior problems, or emotional trauma causing them to act out, she shamed them.  Sh called them names, she told them that they would never do well, and she almost mocked them.  I don't remember if she ever used the word "worthless" but that was certainly what she was calling several children, whether she said it directly or not. 

There was one child in her class who clearly had severe emotional problems, although I didn't know any specifics.  He had such a hard time, just in daily life.  One day, he was sitting very very still, with his hands folded in that way children do when they're trying to "be good."  He was still wiggling a little but was clearly using all his willpower to stay as still as he could.  The teacher walked over toward him and snapped, "It's not that hard to sit still."  The child's face fell. 

I should have said something.  Not necessarily in front of the kids, but I should have said something afterward.  Something like, "Actually, it's very hard to sit still, and I'm 36, not 7."  Or "Take a look at this child.  He is trying so hard to please you and you just broke his heart."  That sounds a little dramatic but it was also true.  But I didn't.  I justified it by telling myself that this teacher wasn't going to change because I said something (probably true) and that I was just a volunteer and it wasn't my place to tell her how to run her classroom.  But I should have said something. 

I said something to the child, so I guess that was better than nothing.  I whispered to him that I thought it was really hard to sit still and that I can't sit still for very long.  Then I said that I thought he was doing a really good job.  But he should have heard that from his teacher and I should have stood up for him.

Another time, when I was teaching, some people from the curriculum department came in the classroom to check for compliance with the reading program.  These weren't our reading coaches who were generally really helpful - these were people from the district who I didn't know, who were - or at least this is how I read it - looking for teachers who were messing up and didn't have the proper components up on the wall.

I had the class - as scheduled - on the carpet, discussing the story we were reading.  The curriculum folks came in, continuing their conversation (which was not about curriculum) at a normal to loud level of volume.  They didn't try to be any quieter when they came into my classroom, and they didn't say "excuse me."  They just kept talking loudly, making it impossible for the children to continue their conversation, which was part of the curriculum.

I wish I had called them on it.  I wish I had just said, "Excuse me; we're having a lesson here - do you think you could talk a little more quietly?"  Or "Since you're so concerned with the curriculum, you might notice that we're trying to follow it and that it's very hard to do so when four adults are talking loud enough that the children can't hear each other."  I wish I had found out their names and emailed them later - cc'ing the superintendent - to let them know that their behavior was unprofessional and that if they were going to walk into my classroom to check on how professional I was being, that they could at least shut their mouths long enough to avoid taking away valuable learning time from my students. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Stuffed Animals

There are several much more serious stories I was going to share, but I'm not in the mood to be made sad tonight, so I'll tell you all about the stuffed animals.  This is a post that needs images so someday when I have or borrow a working scanner, I will add the photos. A few years into teaching, I joined Freecyle.  For those of you who don't know Freecycle, it's a group of people in any given community who are on an email list to get rid of their old stuff and get stuff from other people.  It's a fabulous form of recycling. Somebody posted that they had a huge bag of stuffed animals in good condition to give away and I decided to grab it for my class. I thought that some of the kids would like the stuffed animals, but I certainly didn't think they'd all be into them.  Kids grow up really fast in that neighborhood, and when you have six-year olds talking about how they walk to school alone because their parents say they're "grown," and how

A Loss

  (I have been putting off finishing this blog post for months. You'll see why)  Today, I was cleaning a bookshelf and I found the journal from one of my third-grade students, who I call Fred in my book , in 2001. I still had it because he didn't come to the last day of school to get his stuff this year and I guess it got put in a pile and somehow I've kept it with me.  He didn't come to the last day of school, probably because his family was a mess: dad in prison, mom in an abusive relationship, all the kids (understandably) acting out violently. Fred was expelled from our school in second grade for hitting a teacher. Then he was expelled from the other school, I don't know why, at the end of second grade. He came back on the condition from the administration that he be in my class because I had him as a student in first grade and he listened to me and worked well with me.  We had a really good relationship, although Fred was definitely not easy to have in class.

A New Prison, Part Two

  Second very long part of the prison visit report.   After we got all the paperwork filled out and went through the metal detector, we got visitation slips with the name of the inmate, and made our way over to the other building for visitation. This is not maximum security so thankfully you can just sit next to the inmates, and not be separated by glass or have to use a telephone to talk.    First, you get a gate unlocked and go into a holding pen that is of course in direct sunlight (or rain if it's that season) and surrounded by fences topped with razor wire. You wait there until the gate at the other end is unlocked. This holding pen was a little bigger and less claustrophobic than the other prison (I do not have any claustrophobia and I came very close to a panic attack once at the other place) and they opened the other gate more quickly. Then you walk, again in blazing sunlight (or rain) to the visitation building. This one was less of a walk than the other prison but I still