Teaching Injustice

My students are amazing. We have been studying the theme of taking a stand. Now, to show what they have learned, they must use their own writing to take a stand on an issue of great importance to them, and at the tender ages of twelve and thirteen, they have taken on some challenging work.

Two boys are writing to their principal urging him to consider giving the seventh grade much needed daily recess, a time to blow off some of the stress that middle school brings, a time to rejeuvenate and refresh themselves in order to focus more successfully on their classes and schoolwork.

Another boy is urging his peers to take better care of the school bathrooms and drinking fountains.

A handful of students are writing to family members or close friends. Their writing details the distress they feel seeing their loved ones risk their health and future by smoking or chewing tobacco. Their writing serves as encouragement for their loved ones to quit.

One girl is writing to her mom, asking her to talk about her father who, five years ago, passed away in a tragic accident. She hopes that from her mom's stories, she can add to the limited memories she has of her father and continue to know him, even in his death.

One boy is taking a stand against someone who makes him feel stupid and unimportant. He feels that she is unkind and shows him no compassion. So, he is writing a letter to her - his teacher - asking her to treat him as she treats the rest of his peers, with more patience and understanding.

Many students are standing up to bullying and teasing. One girl is teased because she is extremely tall, another because she is very petite. One boy, known for being a jokester, is teased for being fat. It is so upsetting to him that he is afraid to eat lunch. Another girl is writing about how she is picked on because of her African hair. They are all writing letters to their tormentors demanding to be treated with respect.

And these are just some examples. All of the students have chosen to use their writing in ways that are meaningful in an attempt to make right an injustice they witness.

During the course of our journey through this project, writing, revising, and publishing the students' work, we talk about a lot of things. We discuss the concept of injustice and its consequences and effects. We talk about responsibility and complicity.  We analyze the tone, word choice, and organization of our writing. We have in-depth conversations about how to best accomplish each writer's purpose with his or her audience.

At the end of the writing process, most students choose to post their writing on our classroom wall. We have a Writing Celebration with some light snacks. We spend the class period reading one another's final pieces, responding in writing to them. The students feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.  Our classroom community is strengthened. The students see each other differently. It is an experience that many of my past students tell me they have never forgotten.

What we don't talk about at any point during this project, however, is the New York State ELA test they will spend three days taking in May. We don't talk about how their growth as students will be judged by their performance on one test. We don't discuss how their performance will be a significant factor in determining how effective as a teacher I am judged to be. The word "standardized" and the phrase "choose the best answer" are never uttered.

Though in some ways my students are normal twelve and thirteen year olds who giggle and play jokes on one another, who can be dramatic and mischevious, they also reveal through these writings, maturity that extends beyond their years. After almost seven years of teaching and 30 years of life, I am humbled by their bravery and the important work they are doing.

And that's something a standardized test can't measure.

Day 5 Power 90 Challenge: Rolodex of Excuses

Throughout the day, I ran through a litany of excuses for why I couldn't workout tonight. Here's a brief list:

1. I had to work late.
2. I'm tired and might hurt myself.
3. My throat hurts so badly that I grimmace to swallow and find no pleasure in food, thus,
4. I must skip my workout and go to bed early in order to build my immunity.
5. My eyes might not stay open for the whole workout.
6. Because I'm so tired, I might injure myself. (It's twice as likely and therefore deserves double consideration.)
7. Who's really gonna be mad at me for skipping my workout? It's not like I'll get a detention or a late fee.
8. I'll just switch Day 7, a rest day, for today.
9. I deserve a break.
10. Etc.

I finally decided on a combination of "explanations" for why I wasn't going to workout (an even split between numbers 3, 4, and 7). But then I came upon a reason TO workout. As I was checking Facebook (because I'm not too tired or sick for that), I saw a comment on yesterday's blog entry. One of my colleagues wrote a short, quick congratulatory note - praising my elbow sweat, I think - encouraging me to keep going on my journey. All the excuses not to workout melted away. I decided to workout. And it felt good.

Though life is busy, we must make time to share with others a word or two of kindness. We never know when we might make a difference in someone's life. Some might think the difference in my case was small. But for anyone who has a rolodex of excuses for why they can't/shouldn't/won't workout, the difference between working out for 50 minutes and not at all, is huge.

Day 4 Power 90 Challenge

Today's workout was like all my workouts. I came home exhausted and dreading it. I thought about ways I could avoid it. In truth, had I not committed myself to doing the Power 90 challenge and announced it on Facebook through my blog, I would have skipped exercising today. Which would lead to not working out tomorrow. And probably not the next day. Etcetera. This has been my history.

But I did workout today. And as usually happens, about five minutes after I started, I began to enjoy myself, feeling my muscles working and my joints growing more limber. I could tell I was making progress. As I was doing pushups, I could tell that I was growing stronger. I could do 5 half-pushups before I needed a break instead of 3 (sadly, I'm not exaggerating) . I could do 4 sets instead of 3. I could go lower to the ground. And as always, as I was marvelling at my small improvements, I found myself wondering why I don't workout more often. And how sad it is that I can't even do a pushup.

Day 3 Power 90 Challenge

Today, motivation was relatively easy. I figured if I can drop off my barely three month-old, beautiful, perfect, angelic, cuter-than-all-heck baby to daycare (however great the care-takers) AND NOT CRY (until I picked her up anyway), then I can at least excercise for an hour. Even though my arms and abs were especially sore in places I never knew I had muscles, I worked hard and pushed myself, taking only a few very short water breaks. (Okay, one time I stopped to pee too.) It felt very rewarding to finish the workout, despite the fact that I cheated at the end and didn't do the last 1/2 minute of abs (anything called "full body crunch" deserves to be skipped - at least in the beginning). I know I worked hard because my elbows were sweating. And the best part was I didn't even cry afterward.