This past spring semester seventeen year old “Calvin” was placed in my tenth grade English class. I learned of this placement by his name on my class roster, but not by his presence in class. His attendance was incredibly spotty, which meant I rarely saw him. When he did come to class, it was usually to socialize, but never did he participate in any class discussion or work. However, how could he be expected to participate when he was never on track with what was going on in class? Several weeks into the new semester I received Calvin’s IEP’s. Calvin’s IEP states that his instructional reading level is third grade, and that he currently reads on a second grade level. What is a new tenth grade English teacher supposed to do with a student who reads on a second grade level? Learning this bit of information made Calvin’s constant agreeable smile suddenly make all the since in the world. Calvin’s constant smile and nod became reminiscent of that smile followed by an affirmative nod that I have often given a person who speaks in a language that is foreign to me.
In thinking about a student like Calvin’s attendance is so spotty, I wonder if Calvin is even expected to succeed. I later learned from Calvin’s resource teacher, that Calvin’s attendance is spotty in all of his classes. He has definitely slipped through the cracks. Since Calvin has a resource teacher, and it is known that Calvin is such a deficient reader, I was able to ask why a student like Calvin was placed in my class. I wonder if a student like Calvin would perform better in a self-contained classroom with fewer students and more one-on-one time with a teacher. I also wonder if Calvin’s attendance reflects a frustration about his a lack of help from a teacher like me, one lacking this skills to assist a student like Calvin.
Calvin’s identified disability is a learning disability. According to Osher, Morrison, and Bailey (2003), the “U.S. Department of Education’s Twenty Third Annual Report to Congress (2001)” states that the “student (age 14 and older) with learning disabilities…had a dropout rate of 27.1%” (p. 80). What does this statistic actually say about a student like Calvin? I am aware that as a first year teacher I was not prepared to help Calvin in any way; instead, I served only as a person responsible for recording a failing mark on his report card: a mark that would only serve to possibly confirm for Calvin and his family that he is a failure.
Calvin was not the only student missing on a regular basis from my class. On average, approximately 60% of my students showed up on a regular basis. Those students whose attendance was as spotty as Calvin’s often reported to class with demeanors reflecting failure as evident by blank communicating the student was mentally absent. I would often speak with them in order to figure out what I could do to help. One student, “Giselle,” who worked with me one marking period in order to improve her grades told me that working hard in one class or with one teacher was not worth the effort when she continued to fail her other classes. When I had an opportunity to speak with one of her other teachers, the response was that Giselle was lazy. It was not uncommon for me to speak with a colleague about a student’s performance only to receive a response on how a student was lazy, or how a student simply needed to be put on some sort of disciplinary watch, which often translated into the student learning his or her place on the ladder of classroom hierarchy. I could not help but to reflect on how much negativity is reinforced about a student. At a school with at risk students, negativity is an expectation. However, should I, as a new teacher, accept negativity? Am I displaying my naiveté when I say that I care more about finding a way to help a student succeed; that is any student succeed, even the one with the learning disability? What will it take to help students who are already expecting to fail, who have already given up, or who are already on the verge of quitting?
Neal Karlinsky (2008), writes about how Clover Park High School in Lakewood, Washington, graduation rates are “up from 39 percent just a few years ago to more than 70 percent today.” Of course, the obvious question to ask is how did Clover Park High School get its graduation rates up so dramatically? I can only hope that the mantra, by any means necessary, does not apply if by any means it is meant to fudge the statistics. Karlinsky (2008) reports that the school in Lakewood was able to increase its graduation rates by, “dividing students into small groups and pairing them with the same teachers for all four years, essentially turning teachers into surrogate family members.” I cannot help but to wonder what that would look like in a New York City public school. However as I reflect back on my first year as a teacher, I realize I walk away with a sadness as I reflect on a student like “Julie.” Like Calvin and Giselle, Julie began my class with very low attendance, ultimately failing the first marking period of the second semester. However, unlike Calvin and Giselle, Julie later became one of my better performing students. Julie and I spoke often about her potential, about my vision for her future, about her vision for her future, and about the “poisonous” negativity she encounters from adults, teachers, friends, and family members, and about strategies for overcoming that negativity. Every time I saw Julie, I let her know how glad I was to see her and how valuable a person she was. Even though I was not going for purposely creating a surrogate family of a sort as Karlinsky (2008) writes about, Julie did begin to feel like family, a family member I very much wanted to see succed.
If it takes a family like atmosphere to save a child, perhaps that is an effort that should be made. Perhaps keeping in mind that in essence we are all family since we all share this country together will help us to reduce that giving up option that so many of our “family members” seem to accept so quickly. I am now curious to find out if what works for one student, such as a surrogate-like family plan, has the potential to work for all students. I have often heard it said that what works for one will not necessarily work for all, and of course the graduation rates of the school in Lakewood, Washington, and other schools that have applied similar strategies are not a 100% (Karlinsky, 2008), but I cannot help but to wonder if schools do have a responsibility to become more like a home away from home for students. I wish I could participate in an experiment similar to the one in Lakewood. I suspect that in such an experiment I could grow to learn even more about my students and thus I could possibly become a much more effective teacher possibly even one capable of helping a student like Calvin.
References
In thinking about a student like Calvin’s attendance is so spotty, I wonder if Calvin is even expected to succeed. I later learned from Calvin’s resource teacher, that Calvin’s attendance is spotty in all of his classes. He has definitely slipped through the cracks. Since Calvin has a resource teacher, and it is known that Calvin is such a deficient reader, I was able to ask why a student like Calvin was placed in my class. I wonder if a student like Calvin would perform better in a self-contained classroom with fewer students and more one-on-one time with a teacher. I also wonder if Calvin’s attendance reflects a frustration about his a lack of help from a teacher like me, one lacking this skills to assist a student like Calvin.
Calvin’s identified disability is a learning disability. According to Osher, Morrison, and Bailey (2003), the “U.S. Department of Education’s Twenty Third Annual Report to Congress (2001)” states that the “student (age 14 and older) with learning disabilities…had a dropout rate of 27.1%” (p. 80). What does this statistic actually say about a student like Calvin? I am aware that as a first year teacher I was not prepared to help Calvin in any way; instead, I served only as a person responsible for recording a failing mark on his report card: a mark that would only serve to possibly confirm for Calvin and his family that he is a failure.
Calvin was not the only student missing on a regular basis from my class. On average, approximately 60% of my students showed up on a regular basis. Those students whose attendance was as spotty as Calvin’s often reported to class with demeanors reflecting failure as evident by blank communicating the student was mentally absent. I would often speak with them in order to figure out what I could do to help. One student, “Giselle,” who worked with me one marking period in order to improve her grades told me that working hard in one class or with one teacher was not worth the effort when she continued to fail her other classes. When I had an opportunity to speak with one of her other teachers, the response was that Giselle was lazy. It was not uncommon for me to speak with a colleague about a student’s performance only to receive a response on how a student was lazy, or how a student simply needed to be put on some sort of disciplinary watch, which often translated into the student learning his or her place on the ladder of classroom hierarchy. I could not help but to reflect on how much negativity is reinforced about a student. At a school with at risk students, negativity is an expectation. However, should I, as a new teacher, accept negativity? Am I displaying my naiveté when I say that I care more about finding a way to help a student succeed; that is any student succeed, even the one with the learning disability? What will it take to help students who are already expecting to fail, who have already given up, or who are already on the verge of quitting?
Neal Karlinsky (2008), writes about how Clover Park High School in Lakewood, Washington, graduation rates are “up from 39 percent just a few years ago to more than 70 percent today.” Of course, the obvious question to ask is how did Clover Park High School get its graduation rates up so dramatically? I can only hope that the mantra, by any means necessary, does not apply if by any means it is meant to fudge the statistics. Karlinsky (2008) reports that the school in Lakewood was able to increase its graduation rates by, “dividing students into small groups and pairing them with the same teachers for all four years, essentially turning teachers into surrogate family members.” I cannot help but to wonder what that would look like in a New York City public school. However as I reflect back on my first year as a teacher, I realize I walk away with a sadness as I reflect on a student like “Julie.” Like Calvin and Giselle, Julie began my class with very low attendance, ultimately failing the first marking period of the second semester. However, unlike Calvin and Giselle, Julie later became one of my better performing students. Julie and I spoke often about her potential, about my vision for her future, about her vision for her future, and about the “poisonous” negativity she encounters from adults, teachers, friends, and family members, and about strategies for overcoming that negativity. Every time I saw Julie, I let her know how glad I was to see her and how valuable a person she was. Even though I was not going for purposely creating a surrogate family of a sort as Karlinsky (2008) writes about, Julie did begin to feel like family, a family member I very much wanted to see succed.
If it takes a family like atmosphere to save a child, perhaps that is an effort that should be made. Perhaps keeping in mind that in essence we are all family since we all share this country together will help us to reduce that giving up option that so many of our “family members” seem to accept so quickly. I am now curious to find out if what works for one student, such as a surrogate-like family plan, has the potential to work for all students. I have often heard it said that what works for one will not necessarily work for all, and of course the graduation rates of the school in Lakewood, Washington, and other schools that have applied similar strategies are not a 100% (Karlinsky, 2008), but I cannot help but to wonder if schools do have a responsibility to become more like a home away from home for students. I wish I could participate in an experiment similar to the one in Lakewood. I suspect that in such an experiment I could grow to learn even more about my students and thus I could possibly become a much more effective teacher possibly even one capable of helping a student like Calvin.
References
Karlinsky, N. (2008). Inside the high school makes teachers become family: School found
success by turning teachers into surrogate family members. Retrieved July 17, 2008,
from ABC News website http://abcnews.go.com/WN/story?id=4569251&page=1.
Osher, D., Morrison, G., & Bailey, W. (2003), Exploring the Relationship between Student
Osher, D., Morrison, G., & Bailey, W. (2003), Exploring the Relationship between Student
Mobility and Dropout among Students with Emotional and Behavioral Disorders. The
Journal of Negro Education, Vol. 72, No. 1, Student Mobility: How Some Children Get Left
Behind. 79-96. Retrieved July 16, 2008, http://www.jstor.org/stable/3211292
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