evaluated and survived

Straight proficients, that was my evaluation. Of course my first question (to myself) was, "Why not distinguished!?" Well, that's an easy question - first of all, as new to site he wouldn't rate anybody that. But more importantly - I'm the one counting the Fridays, the one trying to survive only. So, I need to take that unanimous proficient and let it be - I was even above the acceptable level. We did not argue, there are several things he really likes, and he said he was on my side about the Cesar Chavez holiday - and that's a big leap for him. He called me outgoing, friendly, and engaging, which makes me think that I waste the best parts of me and my energy on those delinquents. Well, at least they appreciate me usually. I know, I know - I gripe about my kids because sometimes it's so much - but they mostly all are really appreciative and fond of me.

I've been taking this class in the evenings called Pro-ACT, which is about handling assaultive situations. It's actually cool - clearly written by a Quaker (actually, it was, I'm not making that up). But I just about got assaultive today with a presenter when she kept insisting that our job is to teach our students to be assertive. I pointed out cultural variations, and how cultural discontinuity flows both ways. Just because *I* am assertive does not mean I should demand all kids act like me! Of course I want my kids to have opportunities to be how they want to be, but what on earth would give me the right to tell a very quiet, passive kid that they're wrong being that way?? Good grief!

Today we went out to dinner and these teachers were talking about not having politics in the classroom and I didn't argue, but I fundamentally disagree. Oh, I started off teaching like that, but now -my kids are touched by politics every single day, and if we don't have conversations about it then they are ill-equipped to deal with their realities.

Of course I have my own agendas. Two boys wanted to write about gay marriage and how it's wrong, and I said ok, but when I pushed them to give three reasons why they couldn't, and they chose on their own to pick different topics. A girl could give me reasons why it's fine, and she's writing it up. I think she might be bi. But it doesn't matter - my kids are growing up in a homophobic world, and I'll be damned if I'll let that go unquestioned. They do not have to agree with me, but they have to defend their points - either way.

Teaching and living is a political act, and to pretend it's not is not helpful to anybody. If I were in a school full of people more like me, then I would play devil's advocate more - but I'm the only person for some of these kids who is willing to march with them, to argue with them, to be frank with them.

Speaking of which, Aztec boy and I had a bad day a few days ago. He was getting snippety with the other kids and I did a smackdown on that - partially to save his behind from Spitfire's rage. "Why do you think you're so much better than everybody else?" I shouted as he stormed out (this was after class). (I do appreciate those people in my life who let me have the last word.)

And I had that ah-ha moment. Because he doesn't think that. He lives in foster care and he's an illegal immigrant. Everything in his life is unstable and he's overcompensating. Of course without a doubt he is my favorite kid and I'd adopt him in a heartbeat, and he knows it to some extent, but I'm careful about showing it to the others (partially because they get so stupid jealous - today it was "Are we your favorite class?" and "Can I be your favorite student today?"). But I can't take his insecurities personally - how he mocks Mexican-Americans, my Spanish, white people, other kids, etc. I've told him that my job is to help him think outside this little box of perception he has, and he shakes his head and says this funny, "Nooooo." And we joke and I call him "Alaskan-ist" for hating on me. But I am the adult and I need to not let his insecurities bug me. I'll keep using humor. I have high hopes for him. Who wasn't stupid when they were 16? I sure was. Not stupid like to condescend to, but ignorant of the world and really scared.

Of course we're back to fine now - we have that kind of relationship, where we have unpleasant arguments but we come back and move on. He will miss me, though he denies it and suggests we bet money on it.

Gangsta boy - who's been talking about his homies icing a cop in a nearby city as retaliation for them killing one of his gang members - gave me pizza today. It was storming outside so I let 'em all come in my classroom, and he opened up a full pizza box and first thing he did was offer me a piece, and then fought off the other kids until somebody brought it to me.

Now, pizza is nearly chocolate to me, and because his birthday is only one day off of mine he may well know that, but I like better what happened the day before. I pushed him hard, and I got him past this facade of cool that he portrays. And then I said, "I see that you're frustrated. Let me help you."

OK, I may seem like an evil bitch to do this - to take a kid to the brink of a meltdown in order to bring them back on my side - but sometimes I gotta do these mind games. Gangsta boy is not passing and he's not learning. He jumps through hoops but he doesn't get things because he doesn't listen or try. Without an intensive intervention he will drop out and pop cops until busted. I'm not exaggerating.

It's not that I'm cruel, but I withhold full attention until they deserve it. Until they want it. Until they beg.

And I'm not saying that Gangsta boy will be good for me forever now, or that I can get him out of the clutches of a really nasty gang, or that his future looks rosy.

But I have a better chance. And the cholo who used to give me shit, ever since I played mindgames with him, he's been a model student. Really outstanding. It converged with other things in his life and has worked out so far. I can see in his eyes how hard it is for him to behave, and he restrains.

Now if I could just get Spitfire to keep her mouth closed for more than 15 seconds at a time. She talks and talks and talks and talks - such a need for belonging, which manifests in starting fights with other kids. Sigh. At least she loves me - she just drives me crazy.

But hey, I'm proficient at all this shit.