Following Up

Every now and then I stalk my old students on facebook.  I know, that is creepy but the things I learn are so rewarding.

One of my all time favorite students was pictured in the Washington Post recently.  The article was about a White House advisor who came and spoke to about 100 Dunbar students.  The 100 most outstanding students, that is.  I was not one bit surprised to see Shafae there.  She was so gorgeous and so grown up and I couldn't help but be excited for her successes in life.

I found out "the twins" are not only playing college football, but on such a good team (and such good players) they are part of the XBox game, NCAA 12.  How would that be, to be a video game character?  I'm also very proud of them, a college scholarship to play sports was always their big goal. The caption under their pictures of fame were things like "I'm so blessed" and "thanks to those who got me here."

I'm always reminded of the heartbreak as well.  Ra'Heem's death.  Meyka never went to college.  And on and on.

One of the many posts I started and never finished was a rambling of "what I miss the most" about teaching.  I'm only going to include this one paragraph.  I think it captured my point pretty well.

I don't just miss teenagers in general. I miss having a set of students I feel a sort of stewardship over.  I loved watching struggling readers grow in their confidence. I loved helping "nerdy" girls feel beautiful inside. I loved the off beat humor of rowdy boys, and making the whole class giggle aloud when I could keep up with them. These lines make me sound like I loved what I did for the kids, but that's not really it.  I loved what they did for me. They made dealing with difficult supervisors a minuscule part of my day. They made working 12 hour days and only getting paid for 7 of them feel like a blessing. -- written 9/10/11

The amazing part is that the experiences I shared with them can still feel like a blessing, all these years later.

Yesteryears

I don't really know what that word means, but I wanted to use it for this post.  I've been going back and reading posts from the first two years of this blog, and boy, they are a crack up!

Was my job at Dunbar really that crazy?  I guess it was.  I think I've purposefully suppressed some of those memories, like coaching the girls JV Basketball team.  What a nightmare.

All in all, I really miss my Dunbar experiences.  Deal was fabulous and I really don't think I could have ever gotten pregnant and gone to work pregnant while working at Dunbar.  I know it was all Divinely set up, but sometimes I still really wish I could have stayed at Dunbar through all my DCPS years.

Teaching inner city was always my intent.  I remember the comments I'd get.  Well, not really the comments directed to me, just the ones directed at me.  "Why would she want to teach those kids?" was perhaps the worst one.  I was sitting in a chair in the faculty room at Mountain Crest High School, where I was student teaching, and the teacher asking the question couldn't even ask me, even though she was 5 feet away, looking right at me, she had to ask my co-operating teacher.

Well, I've taught "both" kinds of kids.  And I'm happy to report, the ones I love and miss the most are "those kind."

Anyway, I'm thinking of giving this blog a serious face lift, so don't be alarmed if I screw up and just delete the whole thing.  For as much as I blog, I really know very little about blogger, can't work my way around it too smoothly.  So we'll see how this all goes.  

Punctuationally speaking, this post is a nightmare, and I don't really want to fix it.  So I hope my "voice" prevails over my misguided grammar.

Mourn

Got a text message today.

Informing me that one of my former students was killed.

11 bullet holes.

Body found in the courtyard of his apartment building, surrounded by mother and siblings.

He wasn't the type to get mixed up in that.

Honor roll student.

Achievers scholarship for $50,000 -- planning on going to Georgetown or John Hopkins.

Star Basketball player at his new school.

Always had a smile.

Never fought with anyone.

Shot dead.

On the street.

@Sixteen-years-old.

How do I grieve for his loss? How do I ever try to comprehend the fear even the brightest of kids had to live with every day. Here's a poem he wrote for the school yearbook his Sophomore (last) year.

No one speaking a word.
Walking through the dark street
you run away with a long distance scream.
You’re running from dark faces you’ve seen,
all the nightmares you have ever dreamed.
It’s just you facing reality as you get to your house
still in a daze, trying to figure out
what it’s like to
walk down Benning Road.

Why are we wasting our time talking ideas on how to help these kids? While not helping them at all.

RIP Ra-Heem. Miss your starlit eyes and beaming smile. Wish I could go for a hoops contest one more time.

RIP Ms Szilagyi

I feel so sentimental about my career lately.  Maybe it's because my old DCPS school is splattered all over the news.  Or perhaps it's that my current students did an excellent job of helping me cope with the 800 miles between me and my baby (which may or may not be explained in a later post).  Most likely it's the realization that I am about to bury one of my fondest identities.  Ms Szilagyi will die out just as Sister Bassett has. 

Here is a short sampling of my "final breathe" thoughts.

The turmoil at Dunbar breaks my heart.  http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/12/11/AR2010121102836.html.   Just a quick glimpse of how one teacher would describe the experiences I had while I taught there.  I'm just SO SO SO thankful I had a Father and Husband and Therapist and Psychiatrist who all helped me make the brave decision to go back after I had my own break down.  I truly think the teacher spotlighted in that article will regret her decision for life.  It was one CRAZY job, but I could have never taken that out on the kids.  The students already feel like no one cares about them, and one more abandonment just progresses the problems.

On the bright side, the city has FINALLY decided to do something about the horrendous building.  I'll never forget when bright eyed, brilliant Demetrius shouted at me "look at this place, I walk in here every morning knowing no one gives a **** about me."  I had no retort, cause I knew he was right.  I pray the $100 million drop into the new building will truly turn around a neighborhood plagued with drive-bys.

I have been so blessed to have Deal in my life.  It truly is a dream school.  I went back to work today.  Why?  Because the business manager was kind enough to tell me I'd make an entire pay check (holiday pay) for just 8 hours on payroll (the day before holiday break). Basically I earned $1,000 attending an amazing assembly put on by my very own students.  To close out the program, the whole school sang "We've got the whole world at Alice Deal."  As I read the lyrics I just thought about how astounding it is that I have taught students from Asia, Africa, Europe, The Middle East, Latin America, and North American (sometimes all in one class).  Then in the afternoon I earned another $1,000 playing in a staff Volleyball game.  I've never played any sport in a gym so loud.  The kids were loving it.  Again, Deal has been such a blessing.

I can't believe I only have one more week (after the New Year) to teach my little heart out.  I wonder what they'll put on my headstone.

Nesting? For real?

Another week has come and gone.  How does time manage to pass so quickly and so slowly all at once?

I can't say that I'm loving pregnancy so much anymore.  What is this nesting business other women talk about?  I am EXHAUSTED 24hours a day.  Seriously I went to bed at about 8:30 the last two nights and I still have no energy.

Maybe it's the runny nose and sore throat.

Or the 106 needy teenagers (more like the handful of needy parents that accompany them).

Or the never ending list of demands DCPS administrators come up with.

...

I can't believe it's really at that moment where my little baby could come any minute now.  Hopefully the classes we took at the hospital will help me cope with the terror of a human crawling out my ... you all know the anatomy.

Here are some pictures from last weekend's shower.

 Linda is on the left.  I seriously don't think I could have survived that first year in DC without her. 

Courtney is the young firey thing that was pegged in the head with a brick, rushed to ER, and back at school the next day -- with staples so powerful she beeped when trying to go through airport security that weekend.

Gosh -- I'm huge!

Nicole and Mara (the two next to cute baby Addison) are the girls who threw the shower for me.  Darcy and Callie were also there, but Callie left before pictures.  I really have been blessed to work with the most amazing women these past four years. 

Saturday's Thoughts

I'm going to miss

• giggling at Reid every time he decides to do the wave (or sometimes what feels like an Olympic high dive) in my belly
• yelling "you're gonna let a pregnant lady beat you up the stairs" as I walk my students back to class from fire drills and assemblies.   
• everyone in the Metro trying to convince me to sit down (how do I explain that at this stage getting up and down wastes more energy than simply standing).

I really have loved being pregnant.

I had a baby shower today.  Hosted by two of my darling DC friends.  It was so fun to have a room full of Dunbar buddies and Deal buddies.  In the four years I've lived in DC I've really only had time to make friends with other DCPS employees.  It's pretty much my life.

I love the school I'm at right now.  But I do miss those hoodlum kids.  Linda and Courtney may have been lying, but they said the kids still talk about me.  I hope that means they learned something, even if it was just that someone did love them and care about their future.

When Linda started one story with "Only the kid from jail caught on to the irony in our text..."  I missed telling those tales.  The whole room busted up laughing, and I just thought "that statement is no big deal to her."  Some of my favorite students were the ones who transferred right out of juvie.

Courtney could dig at the scar left by the staples used to sew her scalp back up after she was clunked in the head with a brick.  Projectiles of all sorts were a natural occurrence in a school with no walls -- no structure -- no discipline.   

Those are the warrior stories we share, and still people want to say teachers aren't doing enough.    
   

The Blind Side

Most my friends have told me they cried during this movie. It won't surprise them when I say I didn't. I'm not a movie crier.

Instead of crying, I sobbed.

I sobbed during that flashback where Michael sees himself being pulled out of his mother's arms and into the hands of the State. I remembered a paper he wrote once for my class, describing how horrific that moment was. How awful it was to sleep in a stranger's house for the next couple of months of his life. How deeply he missed his mother and siblings and their love.

Then I sobbed for another paper Michael wrote in my class. One about an eventful Halloween, a holiday forever haunted by a scene discovered under street light. Michael was on his way home from trick or treating with friends when he heard the sirens from behind and then the sobs of his mother straight ahead. He found her covered in blood, holding his dying brother.

But the real Michael reminded me most of one of the sweetest boy I've ever taught. One who just didn't fit in at Dunbar. He wasn't rough, he wasn't street, and his grammar wasn't tainted with cusses or slang. He rarely spoke about his home life. He researched the life of Miley Cyrus, and no one picked on him for being so "girly and white" with this project, because everyone knew this Michael was the sweetest thing to ever grow up out of their hoods. Then, on my last day at Dunbar, he sadly told me his living situation was less than ideal, because his mother couldn't make the right choices. So adult like, he told me she knew she was messing up his life and she knew the family needed to make big changes. "I'm not living like a 15-year-old boy should be. It's not a healthy place for me. But my future depends on how important that knowledge really is to my mother. My brother can't help me. My father doesn't do nothing. It's up to her."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm sure I'll love my own kids as much as those I've taught. But sometimes, I know exactly how Ms Touley felt. It's easy to love SJ and Collins -- they're talented, they're clean, and they're happy because they've been given so much. But it is even more natural to love the Michaels. Kids who should never have been dealt the cards they were given. Kids who strive to make it no matter how the deck is cut. Those are the children who have stolen my heart time and time again.

I'm so grateful for all the lessons Michael Oher taught me.

Phone Pics

Over the last two days I read chapters 11-13 of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings out loud to all 5 of my classes. I have no voice. Well, I can talk and when I do I sound just fine, but golly gee my throat burns afterward.

So Ben's just enjoying the quite and I've decided to take my phone pictures off my phone and onto my computer. I forgot about most of them. Here they are.This one goes back a while. Ben has to go home every year for the Boone County Fair. Which, I must point out is not even his native county. It is the county over . . . a tiny little one like Millard. But they managed to have a lion and tiger show, in the back there is a baby liger. I repeat, a baby liger. She was like 4 months old but the size of all the other cats. I was pretty proud to see my first liger.
This is my classroom after I finished getting it ready for the kids. When Ben walked in and saw it he just laughed "Let me get this straight, they made you leave Dunbar, to come here?" I flung my arms around and said "Welcome to my promotion." It is amazing that these two schools are 4 miles apart, run by the same head honchos.

Oh, I went to Dunbar this last Tuesday to support Emily, my friend and colleague who took over the volleyball team. It was so fabulous. The football team was just hanging out by the locker room. The seniors on the football team this year are basically all my little sophomore students from my first year. Ikeem was so happy to see me he was jumping up and down. His head almost hit the ceiling (he is about 6'5"). Marquis just laughed with joy "The only teacher who ever gave me a good grade." I hugged him and reassured him he earned it. When I saw Day Day I couldn't even help myself. . . "Day Day, they haven't thrown you out yet?" They all busted up laughing. That kid had more run ins with the law last year than any of my actual thug students. I was so glad to see he straightened himself out. Then there were my three geniuses from first period. It always broke my heart that Maurice, Vance and Vernard were stuck at that school. Three of the best students I've ever seen anywhere. So polite, so athletic, so brilliant. At Dunbar, so sad. I really hope they make it to the Turkey Bowl (the championship) cause I will tie Ben up and drag him there with me if I have to. I forgot how much I love those boys.

I also got to see several of my students from last year. I think they were on some sort of punishment, because I know they aren't affiliated with any of the sports teams and when they ran to say hi to me some drill sergeant dude yelled at them. I reminded Wes he failed my class on purpose cause his mom was going to make him go to summer school no matter what. He just laughed and reassured me he had changed. I also was able to go watch the end of the girls basketball practice. Tru reminded me he and Linda told me being let go from Dunbar was the best thing that could happen for me. They were right, but gosh I miss those kids.








Much like I miss this little dude and his princess sister. I forgot I even had taken these while we were waiting for Annie at Tuacan. He was so good that whole night.

Now this is the picture I actually got on my phone for. And I swore I took like four others, but this was the only one I had. Boooo. This is atop Old Rag Mountain in Shenandoah National Park. Last weekend Mara and I went down there for a hike. This picture does it no justice. I wish I had just lugged my real camera all the way up that mountain. It was so gorgeous. I know the mountains out here are wussy, but all those trees make up for it.

It was a perfect day for a hike. Slightly overcast, and when we reached the top we were in all sorts of fog, which just added to the beauty of all the orange, red, and yellow that surrounded us. It wasn't too cold, we just wore our long sleeve shirts and called it good. I could definitely move to that little valley in there and be happy for the rest of my life. The small towns back east are so romantically beautiful.

ppl ax wha da studnts speek like.

Here's a sample straight from my facebook page. The best part is, she can speak her language and I mine and we both follow the convo. Fusing cultures at its finest. This girl (whose name is not Wood or Terrace or Shawdii) will always remain one of my favorites. I wrote her a letter to help her get into better schools so she can (cross my fingers) go to college. Love you Meyka!

Wood Terrace Shawdii
I got accept.d n2 Maya Angelou on 9th st.
&& i start on mondaii....
Ughhh...

Liz Szilagyi

Ughhh??? That's great, no more crazy Dunbar, for both of us.

3 hours ago

Wood Terrace Shawdii

Yea ughhh itz 2 early 2 go bak 2 skool....
&& datz gud....
Were yu teach.n @ dis year....

3 hours ago · Delete

Liz Szilagyi

Deal Middle. It's nice to have walls. It is too early, I agree. Summer ran right through my finger tips.

3 hours ago · Delete

Wood Terrace Shawdii

Yes it did.....
&& were dat @....

3 hours ago · Delete

Ups and Downs

Ups . . . Got a real teaching job (cause the one I've been doing is fake ?)
Downs . . . Bridgette Hofman was voted off :( Loved her!
Ups . . . Ben's letting me put a password on WOW
Downs . . . I planned a pool party on the day it's going to rain
Ups . . . The gorgeous (not so hot) summer weather
Downs . . . Roughly half my students failed my class
Ups . . . taught my last day at Dunbar
Downs . . . taught my last day at Dunbar
Ups . . . have the best co-workers ever

Downer

I love Josh Groban. Don't give up, everyone needs to be loved. Powerful words, powerful voice. Powerful emotions.

I'm one of about 10 teachers at work today, with a total of 20 students. It's graduation. Another year, and I still didn't go. I've never taught Seniors so that was my excuse last year. This year I probably do know at least several dozen of the graduates and I bet twice as many know me. I feel like a bright face in this gloomy building. Even my co-workers have asked "How can they let you go? The girl who always smiles."

That's me. Even in my pessimism I'm pretty annoyingly optimistic. Which is why I've taken the invitation to find a new job as an opportunity to give myself the promotion I was too lazy to find for myself. But it's hard to say goodbye.

I understand why women stay in abusive relationships.

Cause that is what I am. An abused employee of DCPS. They couldn't even give me walls for crying out loud. Much less a door. When 2,000 buckaroos of my personal property goes missing from my office, they shrug and say "nothing we can do about that." When my coworker is rushed to the emergency room to have staples placed in her scalp, they shrug and say "nothing we can do about that. Thanks for coming back to work the next day."

And then they decide to terminate my job but keep the woman who threatened the principal with a weapon. It's comical really. How can I not be optimistic about leaving it all behind?

I'll tell you why. Cause I'm sitting here all by my lonesome on the third floor, not a noise around and Josh Groban comes blaring into my ears. And I have to, I have to get up and go look out at my sad excuse for a classroom. I find Byron's scribbles "I love you Shantice." Shantice -- who is smart enough to be in any collegiate prep school across the country. Shantice who can't get a referral to go find out the sex of her baby.

I look into Ms Smith's room and find "RIP Mek. Queen of GHY" on her cabinet, a substitute for the wall that should separate our classroom spaces. Mek Mek . . . the pain in my rear when I tried to take on the Girl's Basketball team last year. Mek Mek, who when she died became the Queen of her hood. One of the roughest in the city. One she always tried to live above. She's memorialized as their Queen -- cause she like all the street kids died at 17. I see her smile each time I read "RIP Mek Mek, Queen of GHY," scribbled onto another part of school property.

And I can't help but think, "I wish I'd a wrote that" when the graffiti reads "Dunbar sum trash" just outside Erika's biology lab. It is sum trash.

And maybe that's why I'm not at graduation. Mr Mora and I were talking about it in the lunch room as we supervised the 20 students who showed up for class today. Mr Mora who has only been here for four months already knows. "Graduation is a joke. At least four of those students failed my class. And yet they come to me with their report cards. Someone changed their grades so they could graduate." He shrugs, "What am I suppose to do?"

Again, really?

First time I've watched the news since this. Guess I'll be grateful it prepares me to go to school and expect discussions on the matter.

Fun filled friday

Today I took my students on my first fieldtrip. All six of them. We had a blast. We had planned on going to the Holocaust Museum because of our recent study of Night. But if you've been watching the news you know why I might have switched to the Air and Space Museum last minute. Not really part of the curriculum.

But.

*** never finished post, that I'd like to update for publishing my blog ***

Just another manic weekday(s)

Mon - Right after lunch a 15 minute fight breaks out on the floor above mine.
Tue AM - Unannounced assembly to inform the students about the shooting of a graduating senior. Full recovery expected (but shot four times).
Tue PM - Boys locker room lit on fire. School is evacuated and students let out early.
Wed - Normal?
Thur - Ceiling tiles thrown everywhere. Food littered throughout the halls.
Fri - Gas leak in neighborhood. School is evacuated just before lunch. We're all sent to the homeless park across the street, where of course, two boys start to punch each other's lights out. When we are cleared to go back in the building half the student body runs away (home of course).

*** I always hesitate to post the hard facts about my job cause I worry readers will think "those kids." That is not my point at all. The problem is US. We have failed them. We, our society, our government -- sets them up for failure by never giving most of them a chance. We send them to schools built like prisons, refuse to upkeep the building, feed them total junk for lunch, refuse to spend money to incorporate technology into the "trashy-prison" buildings. I mean is it really too much to ask for ONE computer that my students can type their papers on or conduct some research with? And the list goes on and on.

Lighting the locker room on fire is a cry for help. And because we refuse to portray it that way the cycle continues and my students are never given the help they truly need.

I love them unconditionally.
The cycle of our society breaks my heart daily.

Still four weeks!

Tonight my mom told me this is her last week of school. I still have four -- with the kids and then another 3 days without. Gorsh, will it never end?

So for the next month I'll be studying this with my students. Trip to the Holocaust museum included. It was one of my favorite 10th grade reads. Hope they love it too.

Now I know.

I love the news, but I just don't watch it in DC. Possibly cause it isn't on until 11:00. But tomorrow is Parent-Teacher Conferences so I could stay up late.

First item of business on the news . . .
Shooting of late teen, early 20-year-old on 7th near M-street. Home of McCullogh Apartments, home of nearly my entire 3rd period class. I expect RIP shirts on Monday. I almost wish we had school tomorrow just so we could get it all out. How is it okay for teens to grow up around so much death and violence. High School isn't suppose to be about RIP shirts.

In other news.

I interviewed for my job today. Re-read that sentence: I interviewed for MY job today. Not for a new job, but rather for the one I already have. So I've told you I love working in a school without walls, have I also mentioned I love all the rules and stipulations that go along with No Child Left Behind. Don't get me wrong, failing schools should have the right to fire all their crappy teachers, but the thing is -- DCPS guarantees everyone their job. I don't even want to explain how worthless that becomes. And to all my conservative friends, listen closely cause I'll only side with you on one or two things and this is one of them. UNIONS = YUCK!

I don't really have an alternative so likely this isn't a topic I'll pursue. But if any of you right-wingers want to give me some ideas I'll gladly hear them, you have power to persuade me on this subject. Just don't tell me Charter schools are the solution. Unless you want me to post a video of my self rolling my eyes at you.

Nice and Sunny

As a little treat I decided to take my students outside today. We're all ready for summer but here at DCPS we still have a good 5 weeks of school. I'm glad I let them lounge around on the football field as we read about the Holocaust (about to teach Elie Wiesel's Night) but I still had to deal with all the chaos of that school building and I GOT A SUNBURN.









You can't really see my rosy red checks and there's no real line, but my arms and face are on fire. My legs are still white as can be.

So let's see, the chaos for today. My students who are habitually 20 to 30 minutes late to class everyday just sat in my room insisting they didn't know where I was. We've talked about our lesson on the football field all week, and I wrote it on the board, and there was a huge note right outside the class (on the cabinet that serves as a 4 foot wall to my room). Apparently reading and listening are as important as promptness.

What else, oh near the end of 2nd period I heard a huge CRASH so I ran to the scene of the accident and found my trash can had been thrown 4 stories out the window. When I asked the teachers in my area if they saw the culprits no one had an idea. We're so accustomed to seeing kids trespass in our teaching space we don't even recognize when it is happening. But I figure it's safe to say the kids I continually kick out of my room everyday while I'm trying to teach in there still go harass the area when I'm gone. Have I ever told you how wonderful it is to teach at a school with no walls?

Oh and I learned the kids who walk the halls all day in side the building also walk the pavilion on the back of the school when the weather is nice. I seriously never thought I'd be the type of teacher to say to a kid "I don't know why you bother coming to school everyday when it's so obvious you just want to grow up and be a fool. You don't need an education to get the kind of job you're headed for." That's so awful, but it is so true! And it's so frustrating because, despite popular opinion, many -- actually most -- of the students in that building really come to class and try to learn. In an open space environment it just takes 5 idiots to ruin it for everybody. And in DCPS it takes about 100 trained professionals to try and get those 5 idiots out of the school. And even when we get them out, they always come back.

I never thought I'd be the type of adult who truly believes some kids aren't deserving of a free education, but some really aren't. And if that statement sends me to hell so be it. Bring on the ways of Asia, whip them for graffiti. Oh, this sums everything up well. When we talked about Hitler taking away German's right to free speech one kid described freedom of speech as "You're right to curse somebody out." So if the students really believe they have the right to curse out adults, why can't adults have the right to whoop their ass? Is that too much to ask?

"Hey Szilagyi . . .

"Do da stanky legg."



I'm not sure what's crazier, the fact that I actually attempt to do "da stanky legg" or the fact that I am so giving extra credit to the girl who wrote this in her final character project for The Outsiders:

"The Soc's On The Other Hand Are The Little Crew We Beefn With. They Tend To Jump Alot. iGuess. Lol. They Caught My Best Bud Johnny Slippn A While Back. But That Aint Bout Nuffin.On A Usual Day Yu Would Catch Me Walkin Around With Johnny. Johnny's Quiet Now But Walkin Up On Him Now Would B A Bad Idea. . . Im A Solitary Dude."

Those mispelled words and terrible grammar are like sweet music to my ears. I've been at Dunbar way too long.

Just a basic drive by

Ben came to pick me up in front of my school today. As I got in the car he pointed down the street at all the police cars and caution tape and asked, "What's going on up there?"

"You know, just your usual drive by shooting," I casually replied.

And we pulled out of the parking lot at 3:42pm