Tooting My Own Horn

Friday, October 9, 2009

Tooting My Own Horn

Sometimes at work I feel like a complete fraud. I'll be standing at the front of the room fielding questions from teenagers (some of whom are going out of their way to trip me up) and thinking, "Oh crap. What the hell am I saying? I don't know what I'm talking about. Do they realize I'm faking it right now?" I'm pretty sure we all feel this way sometimes. The good news: the longer I do this job, the less frequent these days are.

In fact, lately--this week in particular--, I've been completely on fire. I kept amazing myself with how fantastic I am sometimes. I know this probably sounds obnoxious, but I feel like too often we just whine when things aren't going well, but don't brag when they are. So I'm going to take advantage of a chance for some bragging.

This week was a comlete pain in my ass. I was necessary to all of my classes all the time all week. There wasn't a moment's peace. I've been working with the Honors and Academic kids on preparing for their first big test, and for their first big paper. After reviewing test topics and giving them the (really hard) test, I taught them the proper paper form; how to cite; what info goes in the intro, body, conclusion; how to form a thesis statement; how to write an outline. Meanwhile, the Basic kids spent all week writing their papers. Despite having had the same how-to sessions last week, they do not know how to do any of those things. (They aren't so great at listening, nor at applying information; thus, I had to repeat all of it 3 or 4 times afresh over the past 4 days.)

I spent 2 days with the Honors kids conferencing with them about their thesis statements, giving insight into how to fix them so that they'd earn an A (since that's what Honors kids want). When I offered them suggestions, they knew what I was talking about--there was that spark of recognition, of knowing what I was talking about from the story, which was gratifying. I suggested different angles from which to approach their subjects, throwing out ideas of how to improve what they had already said to sharpen the focus while addressing the question. I told them how to cut things back so that they didn't try to smoosh their whole paper into one sentence. As I talked to them, I had great idea after great idea, and I was excited at the prospect of them actually properly executing these papers.

I spent 2 days with the Academic kids conferencing about their thesis statements, giving insight without actually writing the statement for them (which is what they were after). When I offered them suggestions, it was a lot more challenging for me to help them because they didn't know what I was talking about (mostly because they slept through the reading and discussion of the stories on which the paper is based, or never understood the story to begin with). I had to offer them a lot more, offering them accessible, unrelated examples to lead them to articulate ideas about the stories. (For instance, I had to keep referring to the fable about the tortoise and the hare in order to help them think about theme.) I spoke to some kids several times. 3 boys were particularly needy, and I knew that the help I offered them up front would make my job down the line a lot easier. However, one of them pressed me for additional help, claiming he didn't "get" how to add certain things into his statement. I was proud of myself not just for the direction I gave him, but also for the fact that, though I knew he was hoping I'd just do it FOR him, I wouldn't. I also stayed after school with another kid in this class to go over his quotes for him to make sure he was on the right track. Example after example, explanation after explanation, being able to transition almost seamlessly between the 7 different stories kids are working on--but still knowing them inside and out--felt really good.

The work with the Basic kids was perhaps the biggest nightmare because it was problem after problem with the damned technology. Computers wouldn't log on, weren't installed with Word, didn't have an I-drive, took--literally--25 minutes to even load up, randomly shut down... You name it, we had a problem with it. I did the best I could with those issues, trying to get people alternate log on credentials, lending out flash drives, contacting tech, telling people just to be patient and advising them to write their papers by hand in the interim and just type them later in one sitting, if need be. In addition to those issues, I had students who are so freaked out by writing that they sat for a full day staring at a blank screen. For those kids I had to give pep talks, acknowledging that I recognize and appreciate their level of concern over a project of this size, but then reinforcing the tools that they have been given--the work they have done with the class to this point--in complete preparation for this task. I had to remind these kids that I am here to help, but that I can't offer suggestions for improving a blank page. These pep talks worked. I somehow said the right things in the right way and the situation improved. I had a student who was out sick for 3 of the 4 drafting days, so on the one day she was in class, she called me over to check and comment on practically every sentence she wrote. I had to suggest good textual evidence options, remind students of characters and plot points, listen to introductions and assure students that they made sense, help them calm down when their computers crashed and they lost their work, keep reminding them that the due date would be upheld and that they only had X amount of time to finish working, reorganize the messed up computer carts, and a zillion other things. It was complete madness. I had about 76 balls in the air all at once.

While all of this was going on I was also busy writing and sending out student college recommendation letters, completing final preparations for the new satire unit I'm rolling out next week, attending department meetings, decorating my room for the season, submitting IPR grades, contacting parents for students who have Ds and Fs, contacting parents for students who have done some nice things in class, filling out the bi-weekly progress reports for IEP kids... And yet...

... I kept my shit together. I conferenced. I supported. I inspired. I assisted. I disciplined. I motivated. I organized. I lead. I suggested. I focused. I taught. I revised. I assured. I reminded. I commented. I listened. I helped. I reassured. I calmed. I modified. I understood. I explained. I did every damned thing I needed to do for those kids all week long. I knew my shit, I did my job, I knocked the freaking ball out of the park.

That makes me feel really proud. And if tooting my own horn about it is weird, I'm ok with that.

Toot, toot, baby.

For this week, at least, I kicked ass at my job.

That feels damned good.

Posted by Natalie M at 9:53 PM 1 comments 

Labels: good day, pride, work