Teach It Thompson

Blog Entry #2

blog is not a cute word to look at when you read back your writing to revise. I need a cuter word…

August 19, 2016

It was May! It was the Tuesday back to school in May after a wonderful, long and much anticipated Memorial Day Weekend. I walked into my 1^st grade classroom in Detroit at 7am and saw glass pieces all over my room. I had broken windows. Glass all over my floor, also covering some chairs I had in the reading area. There was a large rock in the middle of the glass. Was I scared? Yes. Was I upset at the mess? Of course. What in the world happened? And why? But my first course of action was to get this mess out of my classroom before my kids arrived. They don’t need to see this. They probably see enough of stuff like this in their own neighborhoods. Schools are supposed to be a place of safety and security. The wonderful custodians had clean up before the kids arrived that day. But my windows that broke were boarded up with wood boards and the inside of the classroom and also had black plastic bags covering them.

Almost, I thought. I almost made it out of the school year in Detroit without an incident. Nothing was stolen from my classroom. No other rooms had any damage. But I still really felt shaken by walking in to my room with glass all over and a rock in the middle of the room. I had a great school year without any drama filled incidents and then this. A great reminder that I was a naïve first year teacher in Detroit. A great reminder that kids face unfortunate scenes like the one I walked into on a daily basis. A great reminder why us as teachers have such an important job to these little people who depend on us for so much more than just an education.

I call my students “my kids” because in our year together they aren’t just kids on my class list. They become a part of my heart.

Teach It Thompson

Blog Entry #1

August 6, 2016

            It was June! I was just about to finish my first year teaching 1^st grade at a charter school in Detroit. I was hired the day before Labor Day weekend and had 24 hours to put together my first classroom that I had dreamed about since student teaching. I was in the home stretch! I had learned so much, experienced so much and also had so much invested in this classroom full of firsties that I loved so dearly.

Have you ever had ‘That Kid’ in your classroom? You know, the one that can rile the whole class up? Oh and have you every had That Kid who also has perfect attendance? I did! That Kid and I did not get along well. She would hide under her desk, swing from the backpack hooks, fight anyone that spoke poorly to her, argue with anyone that talked to her and did not have one friend in class. She enjoyed negative attention. I tried hard to connect with her and just when it seemed like we were getting somewhere, she would pull away. I will never forget how relieved I was on the day I got to mark an “A” on the attendance sheet for absent. I will never forget how happy I was to have one, two, then three That Kid “free days”……..

…..One particular day in early June ‘That Kid’ was absent…..That Kid has never, ever been absent. My teacher gut did not feel good. But I felt relief as I took my morning attendance and marked an “A” on the attendance sheet. I knew what type of day I was about to have: a drama free one! Thank goodness, I deserve it and so does the rest of the class! The very next day in June That Kid was absent for a second day. My teacher gut started to feel off. Maybe this tired teacher has finally caught a break and That Kid will be spending an early summer vacation at home? Either way, I knew Mrs. Thompson and her soon to be 2^nd graders would be having a drama free day.

The following day in June That Kid was absent for a third day….in a row. My teacher gut started to feel sad that I wouldn’t have a chance to say goodbye to that kid. That morning I thought about how I didn’t see her mom in my classroom in the morning telling her daughter to be good, to not be bad and to listen to her teacher. Every morning, her mom came in and said that. Most of the time she had two younger toddlers with her running about my classroom disturbing the peace of Morning Work time.

The next day I was in the hallway monitoring our bathroom break when I notice the Principal walking down the hallway with a student not in uniform. As the Principal and the student walked closer to me I see that it is That Kid, wearing sandals, a skirt and pink t-shirt.

Even when my teacher gut felt different I still felt annoyed That Kid was out of uniform and I was probably about to hear that they needed her records or grades or items out of the desk because That Kid was going to go to a different school next year.

The Principal pulled me aside and tells me something I will never, ever forget. This moment shaped me into the teacher I am today and gives me perspective I never would have had otherwise.

The principal tells me That Kid had been absent because her house burned down. The house was destroyed. No one was in the house at the time, the entire family is safe. But they lost everything. My teacher gut felt something I had never, ever felt before. I felt heartbroken, guilty and overwhelmingly remorseful. I step back into the middle of the hallway, back in teacher position trying to supervise the class during their bathroom break. I see That Kid standing right there and I dropped to my knees, held out my arms and gave her the longest hug ever as I cried. I have never cried in front of a group of kids before. My teacher heart felt something I have never experienced before. I was heartbroken. The principal tells me That Kid will be spending the last couple of days we had left in the school year back in class and I was to excuse her for not being in uniform because all their clothes and everything in the house were burned.

 I lined my class back up after the bathroom break. They knew the drill to just walk back to the room in line quietly. My heart was broken on the walk back to the classroom. That Kid stayed by my side. Many classmates were talking to her, asking her why she wasn’t in uniform. As we entered back into our classroom, there was no social worker, no counselor, no pastor, no principal, no parapro, no other source of support. It was just me, the teacher. I called a Group Time Meeting as we entered the classroom, not sure of what I was going to say but I knew I had to address why That Kid wasn’t in uniform, why That Kid looked sad and what was the appropriate way to handle this situation. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to say, how to say it, or what was the right thing to do. I felt I was going start crying in front of my whole class again.

Don’t worry, kids never give you a minute to adjust! I immediately had one kid ask why That Kid gets to sit next to me and isn’t in uniform. I ask That Kid if she’d like to tell the class anything. She said no, because she wants me to tell them. I told the class there was a house fire and That Kid would need our love, support and friendship during this hard time in her life.

I don’t remember the moments after, as I was sure I’d begin to get teary eyed again. The kids went to centers and I went back to my role of teacher. At the writing center that day some kids wrote about how they love That Kid. Some kids drew a house and said that they wish That Kid could live there. Some kids wrote That Kid can come live with them. They have extra room on their couch. The girls said they had a uniform that was her size. During centers, a time in which I had structured so carefully with routine, I saw something that touched my teacher heart. The kids walked their papers, writings and drawings over to where That Kid was sitting (next to me) and gave them to her as they announced what was on their paper. She accepted those papers with gratitude. On my lunch break I went to my messy minivan and rounded up all the diapers and extra wipes and other random baby stuff I could find. I knew That Kid had at least two other younger siblings. I wanted to help, to give what I could. I gave the grandma those items at dismissal. She cried and thanked me.

            That was my first year teaching in my own classroom. That was the first time I had ever felt broken as a teacher. Me and That Kid did not get along well. She would hide under her desk, swing from the backpack hooks, fight anyone that spoke poorly to her, argue with anyone that talked to her and did not have one friend in class. I will never forget how relieved I was to mark an “A” on the attendance sheet for absent. I will never forget how happy I was to have one, two, then three That Kid “free days”. But I will also never forget the guilt, remorse and pure heartbreak I felt when I saw That Kid walking with the principal in non-uniform clothes and the story behind it. To this day when “That Kid” is absent in my class I don’t feel relief or happiness. I feel worried, nervous and I pray that they are okay. After That Kid wasn’t in school for 3 consecutive days because her childhood home caught on fire and she drove past it in her momma’s car knowing that all her dolls and brother’s toys were gone, this first year teacher has learned a valuable lesson I was never prepared to experience.

The kids that need the most love will ask for it in the most unloving of ways.