MTC Reflection

I can't recall where or when I initially heard the following words uttered (although it was undoubtedly during my first week in the program): "Teaching is not just a job; it's a lifestyle". I'm sure at the time I scornfully laughed off the warning, convincing myself that as long as the passion and creativity was imbedded within the teacher, the rest would naturally fall in line. Then August hit, and I forgot to come up for breath. All my conversations outside of school somehow spiraled back to specific children, arguments over whose administrators were more inept, or practices for effective classroom management. Not only were the latter half of Sundays devoted to planning, but lesson ideas started to creep into my dreams (students, parents, and other teachers showed up shortly thereafter). My girlfriend was becoming increasingly less patient with my seemingly same, lame excuse for why we couldn't go out more: "I've got to get some grading done". Teaching honestly was a way of life I couldn't escape. Students who I'd become close with would begin texting me or staying after school to talk to me about their problems, problems which I would take home with me. Even over Christmas and Spring Break, my mind never left my students or my classroom. In some small way, I outgrew this initial obsession with teaching during my second year. As I became more adept at improvising within the classroom, my downtime became more relaxing. As planning became more efficient and my lessons more effective, I was able to get more done during the school day, leaving more and more time for myself. I would even take my girlfriend to the occasional Sunday matinee. I think this adaptation, if that's what you call it, can somehow be defined as "professional growth." A familiarity with the system that inevitably sets in at any setting helped carry me through my second year.

But my growth was more substantial than that. I firmly believed I started Mississippi Teacher Corps completely under-prepared for the experience. Through no fault of Teacher Corps, I simply was not ready for the shift in lifestyle that is necessary when moving from college life into the "real world," no matter what the job title; however, stepping into the profession of teaching, especially in Mississippi, especially in inner-city Jackson, required an almost impossible immediate maturation in almost every aspect of my life. I can proudly say today that I have successfully matured to the level required to be not simply an adequate, but an effective teacher.

It's hard to describe this "growth" without making a check-list of my abilities and achievements: 1) I can keep (most) of a class of twenty-seven seventeen (and the occasional eighteen, nineteen, or twenty) year olds (mostly) entertained and (mostly) on-task for (most of) ninety four minutes; 2) I can put the fear of God into a 6'6, 220 pound, All-Metro power-forward with one look; 3) I can make a class comprised of teenage mothers, abused sons, homeless and vagrant, under-educated, under-estimated, under-appreciated, and over-sensitive kids laugh at my self-deprecating humor or appreciate the originality of their own name. I can continue, but again, I feel that this type of description is not quite accurate for the "growth" I have experienced.

So what caused this change? What were the factors that sparked this change? As I mentioned previously, part of it can be attributed to the simple integration into a community that undeniably accompanies long-time tenure in a location. Students that I have never spoken to before, that I could not even recognize by face, let alone by name, come up to me in the hall and say, "Mr. Pollard, I wanna take you next year. I heard you hard, but you be learning in yo class." I think more of it comes from an internal desire not to accept mediocrity, although because I've been surrounded by it for so long, the desire is slowly eroding. My superiors initiated much of the change. Even though I resented it at the time, the "chewing out" for poor classroom management, too much dead time, and ineffectiveness during my first year by my principal has made me a better teacher. And finally, my students are the most important catalyst for change. Not only their reaction to learning in general (including their reaction to my class, which sadly, is still way too often complete apathy), but their stories for why they react the way they do. I can't help recall a detention session turned PBS special that occurred a few weeks ago. The student (admittedly, one of my favorite) was discussing her poor performance in school as she cleaned my room. The conversation went something like this:

"Mr. Pollard, I know why I be having bad grades." (This student failed me last year for English III and is in jeopardy of failing me for English III and English IV this year.)

"And why is that?"

"Because of my home life."

After we discussed the fact that her grandmother mostly takes care of her 9 month old son while she goes to school and works, she receives no support from her child's father because of the restraining order she has against him from when he beat her, she must constantly try and keep her younger sister out of trouble (which is partially the reason she goes to my school even though she's out of zone, because otherwise she would get in trouble too when her sister gets in fights at the school she attends), she has a poor relationship with her mother who still likes to go out and party, and her grandfather had to come out of retirement to help support her, her sister and her son, she said:

"I know I could do better if I had a good home life."

"You think that effects your school work?"

"I know it does. Every day I be having to deal with this stuff. That's why I missed school last week, 'cause I took my grandma to the hospital."

"No one else could have taken her?"

"Nope. I'm the only one she can depend on."

"Well I think you're probably right. I know you're smart enough to make good grades."

"I know too. I sho use to be an Honor student. I hadn't made honor roll since 9^th grade."

"Well at least you recognize the problem. And you know that when your son gets old enough to go to school, you need to do everything you can so that he doesn't have the same type of home life."

"Oh, I know that! He's gonna get everything he needs."

It was almost like a veiled cry for help. If she could express the words, I could almost hear her saying, "No one in my life is going to teach me responsibility. No one in my life is going to teach me leadership. No one in my life is going to teach me organization and dedication and commitment unless someone at this school does it." That's been the biggest factor for change in me. To paraphrase the words of an MTC alum, "These kids don't need to know what a gerund is; they don't need to know why Macbeth is a tragic hero. They need to know responsibility, organization, dedication, and that if they work and try hard enough, there's a better life for them out there." I don't keep up with writing assignments and detentions and test grades simply to make my class easier. There's a greater objective behind all of that. So many of these students need to learn that in the real world, there are consequences and there are rewards for your actions. If you keep trying, keep working, don't explode when you're angry, express gratitude when you're grateful, then the opportunities exist for you to make your life and your children's lives better. That's what motivates me to be a better teacher.