Junior Year

If I had kept a blog during my first year of teaching in an inner-city high school, here are some of the stories I would've shared:

• The first time a fist-fight broke in my classroom (my third day)
• The time a stud swung open my door in the middle of instruction and yelled out to the entire class, "*insert girlfriend's name here* Why you tellin' everyone I licked yo' pooty?!" (I lost 15 minutes of classtime)
• The first time a student called me a "fucking bitch."
• The time a student threw a chair out of anger
• The second time the same student threw a chair out of grief
• The third time the same student threw a chair for what-the-hell-funsies
• The time I got formally written up for calmly telling my class to "Shut. The. Fuck. UP." (I'm sure my discipline file burned in the fire, so I'm good now)
• The time I completely lost control of my classroom (I will blog this one later, too good of a story not to elaborate)
• The first time I cried because I felt completely defeated
• The first time I felt like quitting
• The time I took off work to attend a job interview
• The time I left during my prep period to attend another job interview
• The time my fellow new-teacher "person" quit mid-year and we embraced in the parking lot sobbing
• The first time my class listened to me and did silent work for an extended amount of time
• The first time a student thanked me for teaching them something worthwhile
• The time I attended our school's graduation and thought, "I can't believe I survived."

But I didn't.

However, it's now my third year of teaching (woo, Junior year!) and I'm keeping a blog...commence story time...

For those of you who may not know, I took a big dump on my GPA during senior year of college rendering many post-grad teacher options useless. So unlike many of my peers who were able to enter the teaching profession immediately, it took another four years of work experience and part-time community college courses to get my application up to par for grad school.

Thus, during my first year of teaching, I went into my classroom with an established professional self: I was good at my job and always got shit done. I picked up things quickly. Bosses knew I had integrity. People trusted me. I commanded respect.

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL. These kids did not care about who I was or where I came from. What work experience I had or did not have. What degree I just earned or what degree I was going to help them earn. I was just another new teacher who was probably going to check out mid-year because she couldn't handle the grit of a South Central classroom.

It was the most humbling and humiliating year of my life.

Here was my daily routine:
6:00am - Wake up, take a shower, drive to work
7:00am - Arrive at work, make last-minute changes to shoddy lesson plans, make copies, sit in my classroom dreading the day ahead
8:00am - Begin a day of trying to teach, resulting in getting cussed at or ignored, or if I'm lucky, cussed at, then ignored
3:20pm - End class, turn off my lights, sit in my dark classroom
5:00pm - After grading, drive home in the most dreadful LA traffic
6:00pm - Comfort eat, then sleep

I had curriculum specialists and learning coaches coming into my room trying to give me feedback on what I was doing wrong. What a blow to my pride. I couldn't stand having somebody in my classroom witnessing my daily abjection.

"I promise I'm good at what I do." (Just not here).

I was clinically depressed. Slept for 12 hours at a time. Before my fellow new-teacher "person" quit, I used to share with him my fantasy of getting into a car accident during my AM commute just so I could miss school. Classic avoidance.

Fast forward to present day. My level of involvement at school (beyond teaching my normal preps) is at college-level Angie:

• Electives department chair
• Business afterschool program teacher/coordinator
• East Coast college tour chaperone
• Junior Advisory lead
• Testing coordinator
• Social chair

There's no silver bullet. I can't tell you what turned everything around for me. It was a gradual process that, first, involved me actually getting through my first year of teaching. How I did it, I don't know (actually, I do know, I prayed the Rosary everyday...another blog to write in the future). Second, it required a shift in my understanding of my professional self. I had to dismiss success in past roles and search for progress in my current role. Lastly, I had to become the things my students so desperately craved, yet lacked in their homes and communities. Structure. Presence. High expectations.

Before the start of this school year, I sat down and narrowed down my teaching philosophy to a series of statements that I could share with my students. Here's the slide I showed on the first day of school:

If you know me, the list of four may seem jarring. Like, a list of 3 seems more like Ang. Why is there 4? Couldn't she just narrow it down to 3? Having a Top 5 is way more Ang-like.

You right. There are 5.

It doesn't show up when I hit my clicker or advance to the next slide. It's hidden behind the pictures. The one I don't say out loud, but enact every day: