Friday, November 22, 2013

Observations: One Down, Three to Go

So I had my first observation at (blah blah) High School (gonna keep this confidential, but it's an urban school). I sat in on an Algebra I class and the following story will tell you how it went.



It’s like the first day of school, except I’m not the student and I’m not the teacher. I’m like a shadow roaming the halls, a shadow that doesn’t feel out of place, as if it had never left high school. I wait for first period to start, Algebra I, and then I am brought to a new classroom. Navigating a school is a natural instinct by now, but the empty, old hallway I walk down never seemed familiar. As I am walking into the first class of the day, I am already caught off-guard when there are only five people in the classroom.

The teacher, whom I refer to as Ms. Point, doesn’t let the small class size alter her plans. With only three students and a college volunteer, she goes right ahead and starts the class, keeping them on track and focused because she knows her time is precious. Since I am neither teaching nor being taught, I have the chance to look around the classroom. As I sit in my chair in a cluster of four desks, as the rest of the classroom is, I realize that this is not the type of classroom I am used to. There doesn’t seem to be much color, as the age of building is shown by its dingy, off-white walls and old, wooden structures. Maybe the room seems dull because the lights aren’t on, so there is nothing to brighten up the room. Gated windows cover a whole wall on one side of the classroom, with not just a wooden, three inch ledge, but one that drops all the way to the floor, that sets a backdrop to the old heater sitting right in front of it. There is a wooden bookshelf built into the back wall of the classroom, and a long set of chalkboards down one side, surrounded by the wood framing that continues to the floor as well. There is also a wood-framed chalkboard at the front of the room, where the teacher’s desk is, but this one is covered by a SmartBoard, so the chalkboard itself is potentially useless, as are the others. 

The walls and chalkboards are covered with lots of things, but not what I am used to seeing in a high school classroom. My classrooms used to have a few printed posters with shapes and other mathematical diagrams. In this classroom, everything I see stuck up on the walls is hand-written. The teacher’s list of classroom rules and consequences is on the wall behind her desk; large post-it note sheets are sticking on the long stretch of chalkboard, making the board itself almost useless to the classroom, with the exception of the list of objectives that the class will be oriented to and a few comments that go along with recent work that has been done in class on the giant sticky notes. To the side of it, though, next to one of the two doors in the classroom, is a Data Wall, where student work and grades hang for students to view as they are leaving class.

Now that I have figured out where I am, I need to figure out who’s around me. The teacher walks around the classroom helping the three students who are already there. There are two boys sitting in the opposite corner of the room from me, one a “cool white boy” and the other Hispanic. The girl who is sitting somewhat behind me is also Hispanic, sitting by herself at a group of three desks. She seems to be doing well on her own because, even though she seems distracted by the noisy boys who are putting off their work, she seems to finish her work in a timely manner.
As class time moves on, a few more students start to straggle in. After almost half an hour from the start of class, we are finally up to 7 students, most of whom are a minority race, with now 5 boys and 2 girls. The boys seem less focused, maybe not from a learning disability, but from a lack of motivation. The girl who was on time for class appears to be the most active, answering the teacher’s questions, asking clarifying questions on her assignment, and continues to get up and move on to the next task. The “cool white boy” gets up several times and tends to make side conversation with the other guys sitting in his group, but he does answer questions from the teacher and could probably do well on the assignment if he didn’t have those distractions. One of the boys who walked in late is struggling with the assignment, so the volunteer in the classroom tries to help him. He seems to keep giving up, saying he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but if he took the time to really figure out the situation, he could probably show a gain in intellectual thought.

Throughout the whole class, from the second the bell rang through the parade of late students, Ms. Point stays focused and keeps her class focused. She has a strong voice that has power and authority in it, allowing her to control the classroom, but also to turn the class in an appropriate manner to accommodate the students’ progression. She spends a lot of the time at the beck and call of the students, but when she has something she needs to say or do, she’s all over it. She has the power when she needs it, but allows the students to take the wheel when working individually. It’s a good divide among the class, and she makes it work well for her and her students.
 
Before I know it, it’s time to go back down the old hallway. This time, it is no longer quiet, but filled with students walking every which way to their next class. It’s not as crowded as the hallways in my old school used to be, walking shoulder to shoulder, maybe because these hallways are wider, but I still need to weave in and out of the people traffic. As I walk down the only empty staircase in the school and walk outside, I feel nothing abnormal. It was a high school, not one that I’m used to, and not one I would probably have advanced in, as I did with my honors and AP classes, but one that suites the diversity of the students. For the students who are here, this is probably where they feel they belong – a place where the rooms may not be bright, but the education is still promising.

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