Learning to Fail

One of the biggest problems I face as an educator is student apathy. Unfortunately, most students feel they deserve to pass my class by simply honoring me with their physical presence in my classroom. And guess what? It’s not just problem students; these students come from all walks of life. Whether it is a broken home torn apart by drugs, or an ideal family reminiscent of the Brady Bunch, the expectation to get something for nothing is prevalent in students today.

Although it is easy to blame this problem solely on student laziness or bad parenting, I feel this problem is a direct result of the “everyone wins a trophy” society in which we live. You see, my students have never had to really work at anything to succeed because provisions have been put into place to prevent them from failing at anything. After all, we would not want little Johnny to feel bad if he doesn’t make the team, right? Regardless that Johnny decided to play video games instead of practicing, society has decided that Johnny should make the team anyway. Wouldn’t that be nice if the real world worked this way? For the most part, this mentality exists in our school systems, and it is crippling our kids.

I had 28 students out of 72 fail my class the first semester during my first year. Yes, I am one of “those” teachers that expect a student to actually do work in order to receive a grade. I promise all my students at the beginning of each new semester that I will do everything I can to help them pass my class, which means that I will give them detailed calendars on due dates, keep my grade book updated, make myself available for extra tutoring, and reteach concepts when necessary. Furthermore, I give them my word that as long as they complete all the work in my class (no zeros in the grade book), I will make sure they pass regardless (power of the pen). Despite all of this, I had 28 fail.

At first, I could not understand this. These students didn’t fail because the work was too hard. They failed because they chose not to turn-in classwork and the very little homework I assign. They literally chose to fail. Yet, they expected to pass anyway, why? Because it had always worked in the past, that’s why. It’s that everyone wins mentality. A mentality that the school system has contributed to as well. This obviously worked for my students until the state graded English II EOC.

Just so you know, in the county that I teach, student’s cannot receive a grade less than 65 on their report card. This means that students can choose not to do one single thing in my class and receive a 65 instead of a zero. After all, we wouldn’t want to crush anyone by giving them the grade they deserve, right? Every grade level has an end of year common exam that accounts for 25% of a students’ final grade. Therefore, a student can literally sit all semester in a class, receive 65’s for both nine weeks, and score an 83-84 on the exam and pass the class.

Furthermore, my county curves the end of the year exam scores in order to improve numbers. Therefore, it is nearly impossible for a student to fail.  You see, these students came out of the ninth grade with end of year exam scores in the 80’s and 90’s. This allowed them to not turn-in work and still pass their grade. Unknowing to them, their exam scores had an average curve of 30 points. 30! So you cannot blame them for mistakenly thinking that they would pass the EOC without any work; after all, they did not realize they essentially failed their last exam. Plus, this strategy has worked for them thus far. However, when my poor tenth graders faced a state graded EOC that the county cannot curve, their scores plummeted, which resulted in the high failure rates that I experienced my first semester.

The biggest deception of this sham is the pretense that “they” do this for the benefit of the students. The system is only further crippling our kids in a society that pushes the “everyone wins” mentality in order to produce higher scores that look good on paper. Whatever grade they earn on the English II EOC, however,  is the exact grade that students get. So, the free ride stops here. And, this makes it very difficult for teachers with EOC exams to motivate students to do the work that will help them pass the test. More importantly, it makes it difficult for my students who refuse to believe they need to actually work in order to pass, which really ticks me off. Not only does these tactics hurt my students in my class, this type of mentality can greatly affect their future, which ticks me off even more. What job will allow employees to only work when they choose to? How will this mentality get them through college?  Through life? Success takes work people! Unfortunately, our kids have never needed any kind of work ethic because everything has been given to them.

My second semester was much better than the first. As a form of gentle encouragement to simply pass students along, “they” requires that students who fail repeat the class with the same teacher who failed them. Just so you know, I would have rather walked barefoot five miles across scorching pavement in the summer sun than face some of these students for another semester. Yet, I did. You see, I loved them all enough to allow them to fail. For some, it was their very first taste of failure. Students have to recognize the consequences of their decisions. If not, how can they learn to make good choices in life? With positive reinforcement, my second semester was almost magical at times. They worked hard. And let me just add, there could not be any better motivation to my new students than the 28 who had failed. In the end, only 13 failed the last semester, only three were repeaters.

Bram Stoker once said, “We learn from failure, not from success!” Wise words that reflect the innate ability to overcome that is evident in us all as young children. As toddlers, we fall before we walk. As children, we fail and fail before we finally master the balance to ride a bike. Yet, our kids now sadly live in a society that has extinguished this inherent drive to be successful and overcome. Kids don’t have to practice to make a team. You do not have to try for that part in the play because everyone gets a spot. Heck, younger team sports don’t even keep score because we can’t possibly have winners and losers (This list could go on and on). Then, we complain and wonder what is wrong with kids who don’t seem to try! In reality, they have no value for effort because it has never been required from them. 

As a society, we have to begin letting kids fail so they can learn to succeed. We have to give them consequences for their decisions. Think about it. We cannot expect kids who have never had to work for anything to suddenly begin once they enter college or the work force. By then, it is too late. Everything is too difficult for them because they have never practiced working for something. They never had an opportunity to train for success. We also have to detach monetary value to students’ performance. In the cash-starved world of education, this results in “they” placing the value of a score over the true well-being of students.

The Power of "They"

When I began teaching, it did not take me long to fully comprehend how “they” would influence my classroom. After all, I’m a pretty quick learner. Although many are confused about “they” and the role “they” plays within education, I had great mentors and a business background that helped me truly understand the wide-reaching and somewhat mysterious entity known as “they”.

Simply put, “they” refers to any one person or group that makes decisions concerning your classroom based on imagined stories that “they” have read or heard about from a variety of sources (none of which involve real classrooms). In fact, it is very rare to find a member of “they” that truly knows the real struggles teachers face in the real classroom. This organization has four levels of membership: “they” on the school level, “they” on the county level, “they” on the state level, and “they” on the federal level.

I became acquainted with “they” in college as I completed the education program in order to get my degree. This particular group of “they” believes that students’ success is a direct result of your teaching style. If you are doing it right, then your students will be successful. If students refuse to do work, then find another more entertaining option that gives them the opportunity to be successful. Of course “they” does not acknowledges that most teachers face economical limitations that tightly restricts these options. “They” believes that everyone deserves a trophy for simply showing-up. “They” believes that teachers have unlimited access to resources. Furthermore, “they” believes that students should also be accountable. Do you see the contradiction yet? Of course, accountability will magically just occur as long as teachers let students choose exactly how they want to learn.

 Don’t get me wrong, I believe teachers should make their lessons as engaging as possible; however, if I gave my students the complete freedom to choose how they learn, their learning would be based on text messaging, social media, and shoes (don’t ask). This group of “they” is strangely similar to the mindset of the hippie generation. Instead of a love not war mentality, it is love produces work. Although I do truly love my students, I have never seen love write a paper for them. It does take work. Unfortunately, students today hate reading, writing and work. Yet, these are required to be college and career ready. One important belief, which I do agree with, from this group of “they” is that standardized testing is for the birds.

At this point, it is important to understand that different groups of “they” often contradict one another, which makes it very stressful for teachers. Each and every school has their own personal group of “they” that resides on campus. This group can greatly impact your classroom. In fact, almost every decision, other than my lessons, are made by this particular group of “they”. How many times that I should contact a parent, how much remediation I offer, how I let my students go to the restroom, how much homework is suggested, where certain information should be posted in my room, and what resources I use in my classroom are just a few of the areas impacted by “they” in my classroom. Furthermore, “they” would totally control my lessons if possible as well.

This group of “they” constantly pushes standardized testing because the scores induce kudos received by county and state groups of “they”. Just so you know, this group of “they” adores recognition from county and state entities. The problem with this situation is that students produce test scores. This area is just out of reach by “they” (thankfully). However, “they” constantly pressures teachers to solely teach to the test for better test scores. A high test score is like crack cocaine to “they”, and scores can never be good enough. Teaching to the test is against the ethics of most teachers (thankfully). It doesn’t prepare students for college or life; it only prepares them to take a test. Call me crazy, but I feel obligated for preparing my students for something other than just a test. So, there is constant friction between teachers and “they” as a result of this. 

This friction is less if your test scores happen to be good anyway. I teach the standards, which in theory should prepare them for the test. However, many of my students come into the 10^th grade already behind. They usually all show adequate growth, but many fail the EOC. Think about how ridiculous it is to expect a student who comes into my class at an achievement level one to reach a level three in 18 weeks. Yet, this is what “they” expects. With careful planning, I found that it is possible to prepare my students for the test without actually teaching to it. Scores for my first year were 7% better than the year before. My students accomplished this while still writing papers, learning grammar and covering three novels. Of course, “they” noted that scores could be even better if I chose not to cover so much material not on the test. Hey, at least I’m a rebel with a cause.

State level groups of “they” are the ones directly responsible for the irrational actions of school resident groups of “they”. Positions and dollars are at stake, and “they” at the school level are well aware of it. So, I try to understand the actions of “they”, but it is difficult. You resent “they” for selling out, and “they” resent you for the beautiful rebellion you partake in for the benefit of your students. It is a love/ hate relationship to which most teachers can relate. To the untrained eye, this struggle is non-existent, which is how it should be. I do believe the worst decision this country has made concerning education was attaching dollars to students’ performance, which affects the behavior of “they”. It should be a crime. 

 

So, what is the big take away? If you are a parent that is fortunate enough to have a teacher who does not solely teach to the test, know you are fortunate. You do not have just an ordinary teacher. You have a secret super-hero that faces unseen forces and villains to give your kid what they truly deserve. Just remember, “they” are out there, and teachers face this every day.

My Students and my Stolen Phone

I had requested a sub for the following day. My daughter's school was having her awards ceremony, and I promised her that I would attend. However, it was the last day for students, and "they" had instructed everyone to remove all the furniture during fourth period in order for the floors to be stripped and waxed. Therefore, I planned to return to school after the awards ceremony to ensure this task was completed. All morning I cringed at the idea of facing my fourth period after crying in front of them the day before.

Since it was the last day, school was dismissing early. I finally arrived during third period, which is my planning period. As I made my way through the halls, a student that was not even in my class said hello. Of course, I said hello back. With a smile they asked if I had got my phone back. My stomach tightened as I realized that my tearful breakdown had already been spread throughout the entire school. I felt my face redden as I shook my head no and kept walking.

I decided to go to my department head's room to hide until fourth period. Everyone in the English Department has common planning, which is nice for collaboration between the grades. Two other students stopped me along the way to ask if I had got my phone back yet. Again, these students were not mine; in fact, both were in the eleventh grade. I began to feel that something was happening of which I was not aware, and I was confused. Once I got to my department head's room, who I will refer to as Mrs. A, I began to tell her about my humiliating tears from the day before.

As I was relaying the events to Mrs. A, our vice principle barged into the room. She looked directly at me and asked if my phone was a Galaxy 3. I told her it was and asked how she knew my phone was missing. For the sake of anonymity, I will refer to the vice principle as Mrs. B. Although I had been fortunate enough to remain on her good side, Mrs B was a person most teachers tried to avoid as much as possible. Mrs. B informed me that numerous students from my fourth period had informed her about the phone. They had all informed her that Tina, a girl in my fourth period, had the phone earlier today. She curtly instructed me to get the serial number from Verizon and bring it to her office. As I agreed, she warned me to never leave a matter such as this unreported again.

I finally get it!

I was stunned as I walked back to my room to call Verizon. In case you are not aware, it is a very big deal to snitch on someone in high school. Most students will take the blame themselves before snitching on a fellow student. This is part of some secret high school code of honor that adults will never truly understand. It doesn't matter who it is or how bad the action may be; students do not snitch. My heart swelled at the thought that "numerous" students had broken this secret code to help me. I called Verizon, and my serial number was a match. The phone was mine. Tina sat in Mrs. B's office still denying the fact. She had already wiped my phone and customized it with her pictures and information. The phone was unrecognizable other than the serial number. The bell rang for fourth period, and Mrs. B told me to return to my class. She assured me that my phone would be returned once the resource officer was finished with it.

I entered my room feeling like a new person. It was not because my phone had been retrieved; after all, I had already purchased a new one the day before. It was because my students had taken the initiative to do the right thing. I was so very proud of them at this moment that I beamed. Students entered my class in all smiles that I know was not just simply due to it being the last day of school. Many of them excitedly asked as they entered if I had got my phone back yet. As the tardy bell rang and everyone took a seat, I acknowledged that my phone had indeed been found.

They had heard that I had got another phone somehow. "Aw man, we were going to get your phone back Mrs. Chasm. Why didn't you wait?", one of them asked. "And why are you smiling so big if you had to get another phone?", another asked. I reminded them that I had been so upset because I had felt betrayed. It wasn't about the phone. Also, I am smiling because I was so proud of them for what they had done in order to get my phone back. I knew that was a big deal for them to turn-in another student. Furthermore, I laughed and admitted that if I knew they were going to get it back, I would have waited.

Since each class is so short because of early dismissal, I had the students to immediately remove all the furniture out of the room. Then, we began playing trash-ket ball with pairs. My room looked enormous without the furniture, and we all moved along the edges of the room to socialize and watch the matches. I found myself moving from group to group as I said my goodbyes, made small talk, and wished them well. It was really nice.

Our school has a large Hispanic population. As I moved to one group, I found Micheal among the group. Micheal is a very colorful Hispanic student who has a heavy accent that he purposefully over-exaggerates for laughs, especially for me. Although he likes to play it down, he is pretty bright. While I wished them well for the summer, he sat back coolly with his arms crossed. He never addresses me by my name. "So. Mrs. C, why didn't you wait on us to get your phone back?", he asked. He was serious, which made me slightly uneasy. "Micheal, how was I to know that you guys would get it back?, I replied. "Because...isn't that what you've been trying to teach us all semester?", he answered quickly. Confused now, I asked, "What do you mean Micheal?". Looking straight into my eyes, he explained, "You know Mrs. C. To stand-up for what's right. Remember, like all dat Holocaust shit. Gotta stand-up for what's right or we may be like Hitler one day, right? Isn't that what you been trying to teach us? You should've known we had your back Mrs. C."

Micheal was referring to our unit on Night which describes a young Jewish boy's experience during the Holocaust. As he explained his reasoning to me, goosebumps tingled down my arms and legs. It was at this exact moment, reminiscent of Dangerous Minds, that I realized that I was reaching my students. Micheal's words encapsulated my entire year. Yes, I would teach another year. I will teach because of them, not because of "they". My phone being stolen was just the inspiration I needed to remain a teacher. How ironic is that?

The Day I Cried in Front of my Students

First of all, I have cried many times during my first year of teaching. Usually, the tears were from frustration towards myself. I normally reserved them for the car on the way home in response to a particularly bad day. Often, I felt unable to reach my students, which to me was evident in how little most seemed to care or try. Of course it was my fault; after all, a good teacher would motivate her students more. Shamefully, I sometimes entertained the idea that perhaps it was too late to make a difference with these kids, and I thought that maybe I should have went to school to teach elementary or middle school students. High school students are a special breed, and I loved them, but it was so hard.

Although I had shed many tears before, I had never shed them in front of students. It was the day before the last day of the school year. In fact, I had asked for most of the last day off in order to attend an event at my daughter's school, so it was my last full day. Everything was finished for the year, and my fourth period was enjoying a movie, which was a rare occurrence in my class. At one time they complained incessantly about my lack of entertainment. However, they had come to accept that entertainment in my room involved reading, writing, and projects, and I never let them watch a movie for pure entertainment.

In my defense, I was already having quite an emotional couple of weeks. As the end of the year was closing, I felt a scary freedom approaching. Perhaps, I would not come back. This reoccurring thought randomly made pop appearances within my psyche. I deeply cared about my students, but I was not happy with their progress, and I stressed over it constantly. Although "they" seemed content over my test scores, I wasn't. Although "they" felt my failure rate was normal, I didn't. Furthermore, I did not know what more I could possibly do to get through to these kids. I spent endless days after school and on Saturdays for remediation, but students still seemed nonchalant about their grades. It drove me insane, and I felt that I cared more about their grades than them, which was exhausting. This was the end of a ten month long emotional roller coaster that led to me crying on the next to the last day of school when my cell phone was stolen.

I noticed the phone missing the last forty minutes before class was dismissed. We were on a weird schedule for testing, and "they" had forgot to come get my class for lunch. Therefore, I took out my cell phone and called the front office. As I did so, the office connected with my class via the intercom because a parent had checked-out a student. I explained that we had not been to lunch yet and was instructed to take my students to lunch. I laid my phone by my computer, locked my door, and escorted them to lunch. After we got back, I resumed their movie. It was then that I noticed my phone was missing.

At first, I searched and re-searched every area of my desk and book-bag. As I kept combing over these areas again and again, I began to silently panic at the idea that one my kids had taken it. I remember checking to see how much of the movie they had left because they were really enjoying it, and I hated to interrupt them. Finally, with only twenty-five minutes left til the end of day bell, I stopped it. I told them that I had a problem because my phone was missing, and I asked if anyone had seen it or anyone around my desk.

Immediately, the majority of my students were around my desk earnestly attempting to help me find it. "Are you sure it's not in your bag Mrs. Chasm?", I was asked. "Do you think you left it in the cafeteria?", some suggested. I assured them my phone was left beside my computer. Finally, after more searching with my students, I finally said, "I know someone in here has my phone, and I want it back now. I will not say anything to you about it as long as you just give it back to me."

Surprisingly, most of my students acted genuinely upset. Many addressed the entire classroom with "Come on guys, give her the phone back. This is Mrs. Chasm! Don't do her this way after all she has done for us". They advised me to call the resource officers as they prepared for a search, which most seemed willing to do. Honestly, if I wasn't so upset, I would have been touched by their words. However, someone had my phone and was making no move to give it back. I felt the tears begin to burn my eyes, but I kept them back. I didn't know what to do because there were only fifteen minutes of class left.

As my students continued to demand that the person who took my phone return it, I weighed my options. Truthfully, I felt somehow responsible for it being taken. I should have not left it out. I sure as hell didn't want to explain to administration that I had left it out to be taken. I turned my back to them and pretended to search through my book bag yet again as a few tears slipped from my eyes and crept down my cheeks. I heard them in the background suggest over and over to call the resource officers. Finally, I heard one voice inform me that he was going to hit the call button for the officers. This jerked me out of my inaction.

With my back still to them, I said in a slightly raised,serious, tear-shaken tone for everyone to sit down and stop talking. After a bit of shuffling, an uncomfortable silence screamed at my back. I did not want to turn around, but I had no choice. I quickly poked around in my bag a couple more times in order to swipe the tears off my face incognito.

As I turned, I was stunned at the sight before me. My entire class of tenth graders sat in total attentive silence waiting for words to come out of my mouth. The entire class! A feat that had never occurred once the entire year. If I wasn't so upset, I would have laughed at the irony of it all. Catching a sob in my throat, I said, "I know someone in this room has my phone. I want you to know that I am not upset over the phone. (Not totally true. After all, I'm on a teacher's salary and could not really afford to get another one). I'm upset because I am hurt that you would actually do that to me. I'm that teacher that is always here for you. I'm that teacher who never slams you to other teachers and always believes in you. I'm that teacher who fights for you! And this is how you repay me?" The class remained dead silent. My voice cracked as I added, "Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it". Thankfully, the bell rang and class dismissed. I chose not to report my phone to anyone.

In my car, my safe place, I sobbed all the way to Verizon to get a new phone. I still couldn't believe the little shits took my phone. I reasoned with myself that this was it...the sign I needed to throw in the towel. It hurt because I did care so much for them...and this is what I get! Okay, so I was hurt and angry. I would discover the following day that this event was indeed a sign; however, it was a sign for me to stay instead of leaving.