Small Gifts

Somewhere along the line you receive small gifts. They are not financial, or material at all. Maybe some folks would not even recognize them as they come along. Maybe for Bernie it is the fact that I am still sitting at my computer typing away at this thing that has become a voluminous , yet somehow satisfying, monster made of words. Anyway the school year has come to an end and my senior students are moving on with their lives today, graduation day. Yesterday I received exactly three gifts. The first was a thank you card. Now I said the gifts were not material, this is not an exception, for it is what was written in the card that is the gift. The particular student who gave me the card poked fun at me all semester for creating sentences including as many of the weekly vocab words as possible. Out of ten words the closest I came to using all of the words in one sentence was nine vocab words in one sentence. It became rather humorous, as the students would groan in disbelief, and advise me to get a life. So the small gift I received was the smile that grew on this old face when the Thank You note was written using ten of the vocabulary words that had been taught during the semester (and used properly by the way) ;-}
The next gift walked in the door after all of the grades had been added up, and all of the students who were graduating knew it. One student brought me his portfolio. I said, " But Daniel, you passed." He replied that he knew, but he still wanted to turn it in. We went on to discuss his plans for the future, which college he would attend, and such. I will predict Daniel will do well in this world:->
But probably the most poignant gift came later that day. It came from a student who I am sure has a learning disability, but has always had a network of people, however well meaning, that protected him from being evaluated. They did this by "helping" him with his work. I know this because his in class work never possessed the quality his outside projects displayed. By sheltering him they neglected to realize that he needed help, and he would never receive it as long as they protected him from the reality of his situation. So when it came time to graduate he could not pass at college prep level. I refused to play the game, and pass him along as having achieved an acceptable level of college preparation. He is simply not ready for college. He is going to graduate with applied arts credit. But if he chooses to go to college, hopefully he will go in at a remediated level, and just possibly receive access to the resources he needs to be successful, resources he has probably needed since grade school. But I worked with him as he tried to bring his grade up. He had an author research paper which needed revision as he had confused the author' life with the short story he had read. I read the story to him out loud, and we discussed the story and the author. He had to relate how the author's life and influences were displayed in the type of writing she did. It was an impossible task for him as, even with hours of coaching, he could not comprehend what the story was about, nor could he separate the author's life from the story. Here is where the gift comes in. While reading the story to him I became emotional at the sad ending as the story was about two brothers, one of whom was treated badly all of his life. The badly treated brother ends up saving the life of his more fortunate younger brother, but in doing so he loses his life. The story is "The Half-Brothers" by Elizabeth Gaskell. I was unable to continue reading the story out loud because I was badly choked up. I had the student read the last paragraph silently on his own. After reading and discussing how Gaskell wrote many things involving family relationships, the student went on to rewrite his introduction and plot summary. I read it and I was so frustrated by what I read, not angry, but that kind of despair that accompanies a strong desire to help, and it just goes sadly wrong. I asked him to come see me the next day. I discussed the situation with my cooperating teacher, and when the student came to see us the next day we told him he did not pass at college prep level, but that he would still graduate at Applied Arts level. He still seemed so unhappy as he turned to leave. He stopped and turned back to me and said, " Ms. Adams can I ask you a question?" I told him that, yes, he could. He asked " You know how the story made you sad?" I nodded, "Well did something bad like that happen in your life?" I assured him that nothing like that had ever happened to me, and that I just felt emotional about people who were treated badly in life and still cared about others. The story was sad is all. The student then smiled broadly as if vastly relieved and went out with his friends. He was more concerned about me than he was about whether or not he passed or failed. That was the most beautiful gift I received all day, all semester for that matter. Somehow he will make it in this world.
I must sign off for now, the mean one is getting misty.

Essays

Hey to all, y'all out in cyber space, hope life hasn't been too vacuous for you. (Vacuous = empty/ inane/ stupid/blank/vacant)
I have been reading and grading essays as of late, which is at the same time entertaining and irritating. One such assigned essay was a "Writing Performance Assessment", or as it is better known a "WPA". This test is a district mandated assessment. It was not difficult, and involved how a particular rule affected the student on a personal level. You would think adolescents would find it very easy to discuss and give examples about how a rule has affected them. Some of the essays on this topic were very eloquent, some got the point and did acceptably well. Mostly the complaints were directed at the predictably, and hotly debated dress code. One student sadly did not take this test very seriously and directed his focus on how much he hated writing essays. Now, this is not a student without ambition. As a matter of fact, he is very serious about his grades, and going to college. I predict he will not be very happy at college when he discovers the depth to which he will be required to write essays. To begin with I hope he does not take his college entrance writing exam so lightly as to react in such a facetious manner as he treated the district writing test. On the other end of the spectrum one student wrote about a brother that was not allowed to attend their mother's funeral when she was tragically killed in an auto accident because he was in prison. The funeral was held outside the country, after taking into consideration the family's inability to be liable for the cost incurred when an inmate has to be transported and supervised to attend a family funeral inside the country. It is absolutely forbidden for a prisoner to attend such a funeral outside the country. The student discussed the doubled grief that the family had to bear due to these rules regarding inmates attending funerals. Tear this mean old heart out now please.
And then I open an email from CATEnet, an educator's web info sort of site, and the author of a particular commentary on the weakened state of reading education today, has written an essay riddled with spelling, grammar and professional errors. I think I'll go back and add ten points to my student's essays. Maybe this commentator should examine the state of writing education.
Anyhow on the lighter side, I did enjoy the holiday weekend. The husband hauled my backside to La Jolla Cove on the Harley. It was a beautiful day, and it stayed that way to the end.
Watched the film The New World. It was like watching a really long ballet, beautiful scenery and people, but stultifyingly boring. Collin Farrel stood around looking morose while the acterss who portrayed Pocahontas danced around throughout most of the film. I guess this was supposed to be significant of her native naivete. I was happy to be sitting on my couch watching it rather than have spent a gazillion dollars on seeing it at the theater.
On the music scene I did something somewhat mean to my students. I had recently acquired the new Flaming Lips CD and I made them listen to the "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah Song" . It really did apply as we were preparing to begin a study on "Macbeth", and the song addresses the issue of power and the possible danger of its application. I'm just so silly sometimes, I make myself smile. Hope you're smiling too, Bye Bye