Thursday, March 12, 2015

I don't give up (on broken things)


The students groaned when I told them I still wanted to try and complete the 750-piece puzzle we have at the front of the room.  The day before, one student made the mistake of spilling water on the table.  The dry cardboard pieces soaked up the liquid like so many tiny sponges, warping out of shape.  When they tried to dry them off with paper towels, the designs on the front of the pieces peeled away, rendering it useless.

"I don't give up on broken things," I said.  Some students paused, and nodded their heads approvingly.

I don't give up on broken things, particularly people.  Perhaps I am revealing a little too much of myself by admitting that I am often attracted to people with baggage, pasts with stories that include heartbreak, failure, addiction, or loss.  My friends accuse me of having a "Superman Complex," a reckless need to selflessly save others.  I think I can care too much.  I take responsibility over things that I cannot possibly control, and then I am especially hard on myself when it all goes wrong.  I do this because I, too, was broken at one time.  I was salvaged.  I just want to salvage other people, too.

In regards to my program, I've got a couple kids who just aren't getting it.  We've established the basic rules of program with them as clearly as possible.  One student has even been removed from program for a few months and recently let back in after a conversation with their parents and a behavior contract.  Their behaviors haven't changed: they frequently loiter in the hallway or restrooms to avoid participating in program.  They are inattentive and disrespectful when others are talking.  They do not stick with club activities and are frequently on their phones.

I've tried multiple ways to change their behavior: behavior contracts, calling parents, talking to the students personally about what they can do, giving them roles during clubs.  We're still not seeing any significant change.

I believe in the necessity of Bright Futures for my students, especially at our school.  Many have home lives that aren't very safe, stable, or supportive.  We provide a place for students that offers a different childhood or pre-adolescent narrative:  that there is somewhere a student can be loved unconditionally, in a way that facilitates positive development.

So what to do at this point?  On one hand, I have a responsibility to my program to keep things running smoothly and provide the best after-school experience I can for all of my students.  Removing students who are constantly disruptive of our structure is a necessary action.  On the other hand, our program exists to bring students back on track, more socially and emotionally than academic.  If I send these students away, am I really performing the function of our program?

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

GRIT and Safe Environs


Can ya believe that it's been literally years since I have last explored this space?  Back then, I was a doe-eyed, greenhorn teacher-in-training without any real classroom teaching experience, in the antebellum period before I began student teaching.  It is now March 2015, and a lot has changed.  I have been running an after-school program for Eastern Michigan University for almost three years.  My site is in the very middle school where I substitute taught for the first time, where the kids chewed me up and spat me out and prompted me to put the district on my "DO NOT CALL" list.  I train in Brazilian Jiujitsu.  I salsa dance.

I digress.

Of course, new activity here infers an underlying purpose.  A function.  Myself and my fellow site coordinators are tasked to reflect on our experiences with grit on a semi-regular basis.  They insisted Edmodo, but I thought it was the perfect opportunity to relight the blogging fires.  I'll be posting here and linking my responses.

The prompt is:

In what ways is grit infused (or in what ways can it be infused) with the goals you already have and aim to achieve when providing a safe environment? Reflect on this daily, every few days, weekly, whatever works for you., and share your musings with the rest of the group as well as respond to others' musings.

Considering that we've been bringing in a lot of new students lately, grit and establishing a safe environment is paramount.  I will admit that I feel that we could do a little more at my site to introduce the idea of "grit" to our newer students, and make grit a more central part of our work.  It isn't currently part of our everyday lexicon.  However, I will say that grit is an attitude that my staff and I have to adhere to when creating a safe environment at program.  We have rules and expectations and procedures and consequences that we try to communicate to our students and, when necessary, enforce.  It isn't always the most pleasant task trying to explain to an upset student the consequences of their actions, both personal and social.  On the personal level, inappropriate behavior can damage their reputation with others and develop pattern of counter-productive responses to conflict ("No, Christopher, just because somebody said something rude to you, you do not gain the privilege of retaliation").   On a social level, developing positive relationships with the people around you is an essential skill in society.  How you speak and act with others directly affects how you interact with one another, and positive interactions are necessary to get ahead in life (No, Christopher, it doesn't matter that 'you don't care.'  It's really important to realize that others definitely do.")

Oftentimes, disruptions do not have the best timing.  Transitions in between program activities or in the midst of doing beginning of the day announcements require personal attention, and if a disruption occurs, it is much easier to ignore it and carry on, than to drop what you are doing and address it.  The currents of program flow are sometimes stronger than our duty to positively develop our youth.

Can anyone offer quick and easy ways to address inappropriate behavior and instill a sense of grit within staff members (and site coordinators) who, at this point in the year, can be feeling a little burned out?