Another Brick in the Wall

Out for a morning stroll, a man happened to pass by a large construction site. Three workers were toiling under the hot sun, laying brick together along a forty-foot-long wall.

"What are you doing?", the man inquired of the first worker.

"What does it look like, buddy? I'm laying brick. Real thrilling, huh?", replied the man with no small hint of sarcasm.

Curious, the man approached the next worker. "What are you doing?", he repeated.

"Well, I'm putting in a foundation, and then we'll move on to the first floor walls," the 2nd worker said, gesturing toward where the next level would be located.

Finally, the man approached the last worker and asked him, "What are you doing?"

The worker turned to the man with a smile beaming from his soiled and sweaty face. "I'm building a great cathedral that will honor God and reflect His glory for as long as it stands. When it's finished, I hope you'll attend our first worship service here."

Three workers attending to the same task. Three different perspectives on the task's purpose. Which worker do you think enjoyed his job? Which do you think showed up on time every day, eager to start the day's labor? Which do you think made his friends wonder if they, too, should pursue a job in construction?

Just to refresh your memory, I'm a math teacher. Specifically, I teach geometry. Some of you reading this may have thrown up in your mouth a little bit just from reading that word. I realize that many students out there would rather take "History of 19th Century Dental Procedures" than sit through a semester of math, and by now, I know better than to try to make math everyone's favorite subject.

Instead, my desire is that every student would realize what the little tasks amount to in the long run. Learning to simplify radicals and prove congruent triangles must seem like brick-laying to many students -- in fact, some of them would KILL for the chance to lay brick instead of labeling vertical angles. But I yearn for them to, like the 3rd builder, recognize the small tasks as necessary steps toward building something greater and grander, of which they'll enjoy the fruits for the rest of their lives. I wish, when they are balancing an equation, or conjugating verbs, or summarizing Brown v. Board of Education, that they could envision themselves modeling wind shear for an aircraft, writing an op-ed for the Times, or preparing an opening statement to defend their client.

An ancient proverb tells us, "When vision is lacking, the people perish." How true! I firmly believe that if every student could have a "Back to the Future" moment, and see the end results of so many small decisions, we would see many more self-motivated learners. This old French guy said it best:

"If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea."
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Ready, Set, Inspire!

Every year around this time I climb treacherous mountains, cross over frigid rivers, dig deep into the dark ocean floors and wrestle large fanged animals to discover the secrets of life to inspire my students. Consequently, quotes from Nelson Mandela, Albert Einstein, and even from the depths of my own soul - appropriately signed as anonymous - have gone up on my classroom walls in the hopes of catapulting my students into a working frenzy straight out of the gate in early  Septembers.  However, it seems that I often only manage to baffle the young minds of the South Bronx leaving them confused and lost up on the treacherous mountains, frozen in frigid rivers and ocean floors, and trapped in the death grips of large fanged animals.


For instance, I challenged my students last year with "The  greatest weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed." Thinking it would stir up passion, a positively directed anger if you will, and motivate them to work hard I mustered up all my creative energy to design and display it above the front board.  Needless to say, it was almost entirely lost on them.  And despite my efforts to revive the life of the quote throughout the year, its corners began to peel off the wall from humidity, and the once bright colors slowly faded.  Thanks Crayola Classic Markers!   


I do believe that an effective quote can have many entry points into our students' lives and have great impact in their paths to success, both academically and beyond.  Everything that goes up on my classroom walls, with the exception of last year's quote, is interactive and referenced constantly.  They have purpose.  

So today, I desperately reach out to you for inspiration that I may forward it to my students via my classroom wall.  Please submit motivational quotes and sayings (in the comments section) that you think will stimulate and motivate my 15 year old students.  Quotes should be simple, catchy, and meaningful.  You may also provide a brief explanation of the quotes superiority if you'd like.  I will display the winning quote in my classroom by the first day of school (September 8th), take a picture of it, and give you mad props on a future post.  I look forward to hearing from you!   
 
 

A Parable from the Greatest Movie Ever

“Intelligence plus character – that is the goal of true education.”
~Martin Luther King, Jr.

I could not agree more.

Just about every male in America between the ages of 22 and 35 owns a copy of the movie "Braveheart". Watching that movie amounts to some sort of masculinity ritual in many households. I’m thinking of incorporating it into a hyper-macho Bar Mitzvah when my sons turn 13.

Towards the beginning of the movie, set in medieval Scotland, young William Wallace, the protagonist, becomes an orphan when his father and older brother are killed in a battle with their British occupiers. At the funeral, William is adopted by his Uncle Argyle – who, I swear, is someone’s vision of what Ernest Hemingway would have looked like if he was born in Edinburgh in A.D. 1080.

Later, William is studying his uncle’s claymore, a gigantic Scottish broad sword. (Ladies, if you are ever stuck on what to get your husband for his birthday or Christmas, get him a sword. A real one. It’s a guaranteed hit.) Argyle indulges young William, allowing him to feel the sword's weight and power, before taking it back from him. What follows is one of the great lines in cinematic history:

ARGYLE: First, learn to use this. (Thumps William on the forehead.) Then, I’ll teach you to use... this. (SCHING! Removes the sword from its scabbard.)

The message is clear. A sword has weight, power, and strength. But that power will be useless at best, and destructive at worst, in the hands of someone who has not been taught to use it properly.

Education is much the same as the sword of Wallace’s youth. The power to use language eloquently and persuade people with words can be a blessing or a curse, depending on the man or woman who wields those words. A keen understanding of biochemistry can cure a disease, or create a weapon out of it. As educators, we must not be so open-minded that we assume that every application of knowledge is a noble one. Great evil can and has been wrought from a mind unfettered by moral concerns.

As an educator, I am committed to shaping not only the mind, but also the conscience.

Going Big

I'm always impressed by people who aren't afraid to go big - Tiger Woods has won 14 majors and 70 tour events; Michael Phelps has won enough olympic gold medals to make it his retirement plan; Bloomberg has a networth of $16 billion and has dominated most of the financial services market. It's amazing what people can do for themselves, but when it comes to solving the problem of poverty and educational inequality, there has not been an answer that withstands the test of time, or a person's political term. But I came across The Harlem Children's Zone started by Geoffery Canada, a native of the South Bronx of New York, which positively influences inner city children from within the womb all way through college. He is absolutely convinced that poverty can be beaten through quality education in the home and in school, and he is on a mission to see it through. The funny thing is that everyone has known and agrees with Canada's preaching, but can't make it work on a grand scale. Mr. Canada is somehow making it happen. I aspire to be like this man who truly affects change and brings tranformation to entire communities.

Click on the logo (left) to listen to a 30 minute segment on Mr. Canada on This American Life. Click on Colbert (right) to see a hilarious 5 minute interview with him. Frankly, I don't know what makes people decide to be a guest on Colbert's show. They'd be better off appearing on a jumbo screen being pantsed by a drunk friend at a Giants' game. G. Canada holds it together though.

Oh to be as savvy as Geoffrey Canada and as witty as Stephen Colbert.

They Hate Me at First, But Just You Wait

I know we're starting on the right foot in my class when I see students second guessing their actions and look unsure of their surroundings. I say this not because I enjoy mercilessly torturing my students. Please, don't get the wrong idea. You see, most students who enter my classroom in the beginning of their 10th grade year have never had structure and discipline in an academic setting let alone at home. So when they reach me, all the procedures and "crazy" expectations I have for them feel like fat suits on a hellish summer day. They are timed getting into the classroom. Everyone sits and starts his "do now" activity (also timed) together on my signal, and if we fail to do this in perfect silence and in good time we start all over. Everyone is expected to respond to hand signals. There is no down time in our class. If students even look like they're cheating on a quiz, they ARE cheating and will receive a zero, except they won't know until they get their papers back. Phrases like "time on task" and "accountable talk" are commands not suggestions, and there are heavy prices to pay should anyone test out the waters. You get the idea. I won't lie and say it's absolutely air tight yet, but it's close.

Believe me, it's not easy for me to wear a straight face and keep up the intensity every single day either. Students loath me in the first months of school! But what most of them don't know is that they will grow to really love and appreciate our class by the second or third. With structure in place my students begin to take ownership over their learning because that's what we do in our class, and we take it serious. As students cultivate new habits of mind and academic skills I witness students proving to themselves, many for the first time, that they can achieve. But this wouldn't happen if I didn't take the time and effort to lay down the law and set high expectations.

I'm also learning, however, that high expectations alone, like memorizing 500 vocabulary definitions for my class, is often not convincing enough for them to actually do it. Many a time I've sat with students after school or during lunch with vocabulary note cards and a timer to prove to them that they can meet high expectations.

"You can do it!" I'd exclaim, but he's skeptical. "C'mon, fifteen definitions in fifteen minutes. You ready? Go!" With every flip of an index card I'm throwing word associations, hand gestures, and funny noises to help him remember the definitions for justification, mercantilism, imperialism...By the end, we're both half standing and leaning over the table from opposite sides, and he is spitting out answers as he shoots glances at the timer and recalls the gestures and noises for each word until the alarm goes off.

"YES!" He'd throw his hands up above his head and a smile as long as the Brooklyn Bridge would stretch from one ear to the other as if he just sank the winning jumper at the buzzer. "I can't believe I just did that!" He'd exclaim and breath out with surprise and relief.

"I told you! Now, don't ever tell me you can't do it! Go memorize the rest yourself and practice the strategy we just used." I'm not exaggerating. This literally happens with many of my students every single year. I putter like a clunky old Volvo with two hundred fifty thousand miles under its hood at the end of these 15 minute sprints, but it works.

I love hearing my students get excited about themselves; not about cash rewards the state gives out to successful test takers, or free movie tickets, or any other shallow and transient gratifications. My students are not stupid and worthless as many of them have constantly been told. They are students who "can" but they have to realize that, and the most I can do for them is usher them to that discovery. Anyone can teach, but it's cooler when students learn. It takes a whole lot of patience and creativity to instill values, habits, and skills that will help them to excel in such a way, but it's so worth it!

Wait 'til next year...

"Alright, Mr. Jones, I'll be there," said Tamara.

She then walked out of my classroom after 2nd period, and
I haven't seen her since.

Just to remove any doubt, Tamara hasn't had anything tragic happen to
her -- not in a CTU-Jack-Bauer crisis kind of way. Tamara came into my
geometry class this past spring as one of the most naturally talented,
mathematically gifted students I have ever taught. Algebra came easily
to her, and she had no problem applying it to concepts like
supplementary angles and congruent line segments... even after missing
the first week of classes. To put that in perspective, I teach in a
four-period block school, so she actually missed the equivalent of ten
standard classes.

After two weeks of relatively steady attendance, Tamara started missing
about two days of class per week. Later she was missing three,
sometimes four, classes per week. About six weeks into the semester, I
pulled Tamara aside to talk to her about her slipping grades and
attendance.

"Tamara, somehow you're still holding down a B average on your tests,
but your missing homework grades are going to start affecting your
performance. I mean, you're not getting to practice to new concepts,
either in class or at home."

Tamara gave a reluctant smile. "I know, Mr. Jones... it's just that I
had a baby this past Christmas, and most days I can't get anyone to
watch her. I can only come to school when my mom can get off of work."

What do you say to that?

I tried.

"Tamara, based on your raw talent for math, you can still
make it in this class. I think you're looking at a possible 'B'. A 'C'
is more likely, but I just want you to know your range."

"I know... I've always been good at math. I really want to make this
work," Tamara replied.

"Here's my offer," I said. "If you can make it to at least two days of
school per week, I'll make sure I stay after school with you every day
that you come in order to catch you up on what you miss."

"Okay."

"If you can do that... well, I can't make any guarantees, but you're
smart enough to make it. Can you be here on Thursday, in class and
after school?", I finished.

"Alright, Mr. Jones, I'll be there."

Why I Teach

My name is Matt, and I love teaching.

Obviously, this is a blog by two high school teachers, so naturally this half of the blog’s authorship has some inkling of passion for teaching. But when I say that I love teaching, I mean that it’s a lifestyle for me.

My wife, Jessica, thinks my penchant for instruction is, at different times, charming, funny, quirky, and downright irritating. When she asks me to teach her a new board game – this past Wednesday, it was “RISK”, my all-time favorite – she now knows she is delving into a serious engagement that may very well occupy our entire evening. For more on the hazards of “teaching” your spouse, see Hoek’s post on leaving the teacher at work.

(For all you RISK fans out there, wondering how it turned out… she made the mistake of conceding South America and Australia to me in consecutive turns while she hammered away at North America. I crushed her two turns later.)

Now, to make some use of that digression: the joy and thrill of my life is the moment, great or small, when a student gets it. Hopefully, you have had the privilege at least once in your life to experience this moment for yourself and/or witness it in someone else. It is the moment when the forehead transitions from wrinkled to smooth. The eyebrows, once scrunched and drawn together in confusion, now lift up with surprise and relief. The dull glaze falls from the eyes, and they are filled with recognition and resolution. These moments of learning are food for a teacher’s soul, and I am no exception.

My point is that while I have a love for my students and a desire to see their destinies realized, my desire to teach has a very mercenary component. I enjoy it, and get a kick out of it.

On the other side of the same coin is the calling that I feel toward teaching. God has created me to be a teacher, and I can’t seem to do anything else.

Trying to think of an analogy, I came up with Casey, the golden retriever up with whom I grew. (Thank you, Winston Churchill.) If you’ve ever owned a retriever, you know very well how they earned their moniker. They retrieve stuff all the dang time. Shoes are the stereotypical item of choice, but lacking that, Casey would bring us stuffed animals, baseball gloves, remote controls, pillows… anything he could wrap his mouth around. And just try to play a game of Frisbee with him around. He never had as much fun as when he was chasing down a long throw from my dad.

When you looked at Casey, you knew two things:
1)God created that dog to go get stuff and bring it back.
2)He loved doing that more than anything else.

Whether I’m fulfilling my calling well will be up to my peers and principals and ultimately my Lord. For now, I’m content doing what I was created for as best I know how.

My name is Matt, and I love teaching. I look forward to sharing my life and stories with you.

Leave Your Classroom Without It

If you are a teacher or have friends who are teachers, do you find that you or your teacher friends never quite leave behind "the teacher" at work? Meaning, do teachers often interact with their friends or peers as they would with their students? A friend of mine used to complain to me that his previous girlfriend would talk to him as though he was one of her middle school students, especially when they got into a fight. He used to be furious getting off the phone with her saying, "I'm not an adolescent child! She doesn't need to talk to me like that!" You know how we do with our students -- explaining and re-explaining the same thoughts but slower and with superfluous enunciation of key words in hopes that our students will get it "this" time around.

I have always prided myself for not falling into this category of teachers in my years of teaching though. Sure, I've become much more interested in politics and began referencing more historical facts in conversations since becoming a history teacher. And yes, I unconsciously draw venn diagrams, t-charts, K-W-Ls, and other animated graphic organizers in my mind while watching the food network or listening to a sermon at church. But never have I talked down to my wife or treated my peers as though they were one of my under-arm-hair-checking teenage students. Never!

Until recently.

I remember people warning me that once married we'd fight about the most trivial of things, and it happened. My wife and I got into the biggest argument the other day because I did not agree with the way she was flattening left over cardboard boxes to fit into the garbage bag. Observing her struggling to detach each corner of the boxes without ripping them so they can be neatly folded flat, I graciously offered my suggestion of simply stomping on them, folding the edges in and stomping on them some more. It would be a much quicker and less strenuous method. No, so said. She liked her way better because it was neater. At that point I began explaining to her the intricate details of the recycling process and how my method will minimize the surface area to volume ratio, therefore fitting more into the bag, not to mention the time and effort she will save in the process. It didn't matter. She kept insisting that she do it her way and for me to leave her alone. Well, in my caring nature, I took the boxes from her and demonstrated my superior method, all the while thinking I understood something that she didn't just like how many of my students simply don't have the knowledge or life's wisdom that "I do" to comprehend certain things. Oops.

The rest of the night didn't go quite as I had hoped, but the boxes still got recycled...all of them. So may the moral of this blog resound loudly and clearly for all us teachers. Leave your teacher in the classroom!

What Do You Get When You Combine Popeye’s Chicken and Perseverance

Walking through Harlem brought back memories from my first year in New York. I used to live up on 117th and Manhattan Avenue just one block away from Morningside Park, but on the east side of it, the wrong side. That was when the park was still drug infested and crack heads used to hang around the 116th street subway stop at night to haggle straphangers as they emerged from the dingy underground.

Today, I was on my way to Israel’s high school graduation to be held just blocks away from where I had lived. He was one of my students during my first years of teaching and I couldn’t help but reminisce over those years as I walked along the now gentrified streets. The first year of teaching was by the far the most challenging year of my life. I had just begun teaching at a middle school in the South Bronx that one could have easily mistaken for a juvenile detention center from the outside. I remembered returning home on the cross-town bus exhausted from an excruciatingly painful day at work. I was so frustrated and felt so helpless with my students that I began silently praying on the bus, which then turned into quiet mutterings, which then turned into a full on tear fest. My cheek muscles twitched uncontrollably with every sob as my tears began creating dark bruise marks on my shirt and tie I had recently bought to make myself look older than my seventh grade students. I didn’t care that people around me were staring at me, not so much with concern, but more with side looks and tight lips that said “mmm mmm, that Asian man musta gotten hisself drunk already.” It was in that state of derangement and complaining to God that I saw Popeye’s Chicken outside the bus window. It was a desperate cry for help and quite out of context in hindsight, but at that moment I complained to God that all I simply wanted was some good fried chicken from Popeye’s. That’s not too much to ask right?

Needless to say, I managed to get off at the right stop and drag my feet up the front steps of my brownstone building. I walked in and closed the door muffling the sound of reggaeton and screaming children behind me. It was when I went over to my desk to put my bag down that I saw a box of Popeye’s Chicken with a yellow sticky note that read, “I was driving home from Philly when I saw Popeye’s. I know how much you LOVE their chicken so I made a u-turn and got these for you. Your roommates let me in. Sorry I couldn’t see you! Enjoy! Love, your little sis.”

What?! God, are you serious! There’s no way! For a few seconds I stood paralyzed as tingling sensations pulsed through my body. Rationalizations jumped across synapses in my brain, and unintelligent calculations of the odds of this happening blurred through my mind to make sense of it all. But indeed, the red and white box lay before me, and strangely enough God’s amazing love was confirmed for me right at that moment.

I carefully lifted the box into my arms and cradled it like I had just birthed my first child into the world. I sat down and held the drumstick between my quivering hands but couldn’t even eat it let alone see it because tears were gushing out of my skinny eyes. I was so thankful to God that he would even answer my most silly prayers to let me know that he sees my pain and to assure me that I was exactly where I needed to be according to his perfect will. That day God used my sister and a box of fried chicken to help me remember why I had answered to his call to go educate the inner-city youth. Sure, my students were difficult and I had no idea how to even begin breathing knowledge and life into them, but my hope and strength was restored that night. After an emotional night I woke up the next morning to go teach the very students who caused me to break down on the bus.

That happened six years ago when Israel sat in class 705 and often defended me against other merciless students. He did so using many profane expressions, but I allowed it during those occasions. So, what do you get when you combine Popeye’s Chicken and perseverance? You get a high school graduate, and I had the privilege of attending Izzy’s graduation held in the historic Apollo Theater. He’s the first in his family to graduate from high school and go to college. How much of a part did I play in his success? I don’t know if that can be measured and it’s not important, but I do know I never quit on him or on any of my other students. He and I have both come a long way since then, and today I got to sit with Izzy’s family as their one honored guest and cheer for him as obnoxiously as I could when he walked across the stage.