Diko

Diko can be difficult.  He is one of the sweetest kids I've ever met, yet hardly ever fails to frustrate me.  He insists on holding the door for the whole class to pass through out of pure chivalry, yet he has trouble completing the most simple tasks, such as sitting in his seat for more than a minute at a time.  He is not simply a fidgety child.  I've seen plenty of those, and Diko is different.

He is not stupid, and he means well.  I truly believe this, but I sometimes have to keep repeating it in my mind as a mantra of sorts to keep from snapping at him.  If my patience needs to be tested, Diko is doing a mighty fine, albeit unsolicited, job of doing so.

He had made some incredible progress by December break, to the point where I told myself that it was worth devoting a little extra time to his cause.  I had a system in which I would break down his classwork into its most basic parts and time him for each part.  He went from spending over three minutes to write his name and the date (amidst heavy coaxing on my behalf, mind you) to completing his name, the date, and copying down the question in well under that time.  He was so proud of his progress that he began asking me to take out my timer before he began any work.

I knew from speaking to Diko that his extracurricular life revolved almost exclusively around Xbox.  As Ms. Zeljak explained to me, his single mother is stuck in single-not-mother mode, and is not about to be held back socially by a fourth grader.  Turns out Black Ops is a much cheaper alternative to a babysitter.

I've spoken to Diko extensively about his gaming habit, stressing the importance of reading if he wants to advance.  But a six-hour-a-day habit can be a hard one to break.

I almost gave up on Diko after returning from December break.  I guess all it took was a few weeks of nearly uninterrupted gameplay to take him back to where he was in September.  I thought about all the time I had spent planted next to him, forgoing to attend to the momentary needs of his classmates because with with Diko it's your undivided attention or it's not even worth trying.  But something had to give.

I decided to treat Diko as if he were any fourth grader.  That meant no more painstaking half-hour sessions trying to get him to write a response to a single, straightforward question.  No more verbally dragging him back into a lesson when he had wandered off, in body or mind (or most often, both).  And hardest of all, no more feeling like he was my personal burden.

One thing I would not quit on, however, were the videogames.  I continued to ask him, every Monday, how his weekend had been and what he had done.  At first the answer was always the same: I played my games.  That response eventually morphed into: you already know.  Eventually, though, I noticed a note of shame and embarrassment in his responses.  Somewhere in that mystery of a mind of his, he knew his habit was only setting him back academically.

Thursday, the day before the second longest vacation during the school year, I asked Diko what his plans were for vacation.  To my surprise and delight, "play the game" was not among them.  He told me he wanted to make me proud, and had stopped playing his video games over a week ago.  He gave me the titles of all the books he was hoping to read over the vacation.

The day before, the class had been assigned to draw their future offices.  Diko drew himself behind a librarian's desk.

Sundays

I love almost everything about Sundays.  I love eating frozen mango while actual sunlight streams through my living room window (this is where I'd complain about how my working hours are contributing to my general pallor, had I the ability to tan).  I love lazy hours spent leafing through the Sunday Times, construing my own opinions about war, politics, and disaster from the stable safety of my apartment.  I love gorging myself on dumplings with whomever will join me for dim sum at the Chinese place across the parking lot (it's brunch, so I can eat two meals' worth, right?).

I don't love:
Laundry
Cleaning my room
Cleaning anything
Editing lesson plans.  I really don't love editing lesson plans.
Thinking about how long it will be until I feel this well rested again
Wondering whether or not my uniform will fit me after all those dumplings



All right.  Time to do some of that stuff now.  Wish me luck.

So I guess I'm advanced now???

I just returned from the City Year Advanced Training Retreat, and I did not return alone.  Before you judge me, know that I was caught up in all the excitement and haze brought on by sleeplessness and spontaneous snowball fights to really think straight.  Anyhow, this is not something I would usually broadcast over the internet, but I have to admit that I'm starting to think this union cannot last.  

Rhinovirus, it's been real.  It's time for both of us to move on.

Common colds aside, my weekend was stupendous (putting fourth grade vocab words to work!  Bing!).  It snowed enough to shut down DCPS for a day or two (I know, I know; what a waste), but left the Methodist family camp that was gracious enough to host us looking sparkly and fresh.  The trainings were short and sweet, the discussions deep and involving, and the food was warm and free, so I ate enough to build up a sizable layer of insulation that should last for most of winter (good practice for the freshman 50, right?). 

The best part was probably the PT contest, during which every team performed a short, creative routine, utilizing PT moves both established and original.  The routines were usually more goofy than inspirational, but it made for some great team bonding and much needed release.  My team may or may not have won, to the great acclamation of the entire corps.  

The previously mentioned snowball fights were simply the icing on top of what was a great week.  Corps and senior corps came together in a celebration of all things winter that left nary a sock dry.  They also left a hefty portion of the corps sick, but now is not the time for regrets.  

Tune in next post to read about how I use my newfound advanced skills to transform Ms. Zeljak's class into an oasis ripe with knowledge and all things kumbaya.  

Do you know what's NOT the bomb??????

I just got off for vacation and am currently sosososososoooooo excited for my red-eye Amtrak ride home tonight (lol jk no).  So in the spirit of break, I thought I'd write about City Year!  Woot woot!

To sum up most of the past couple weeks, my kids are the cutest, my teacher's the best, my team is a giant shlove muffin, Durim can now read 80 words a minute (up from 30!), and the gel inserts in my timbs keep shifting when I walk and it's super uncomfortable.  I did have one out of the ordinary, adventury day.  Do you wanna hear about it???????? Do you??!?!?!?!?!?!?


I'll tell you.

The day was December 15, and it began with my waking up 20 minutes before my alarm went off, and I couldn't  fall back asleep.  But I soldiered on and got ready as I usually would, bravely unperturbed by this cruel twist of fate.  Except then when I got to my metro stop, I realized that I had forgotten my lunch.  Whatever.  Ish happens.

Now, I usually switch trains at Fort Totten, which, in my opinion, is a refreshing, low-key, low-stress, open-aired station.  But no.  Not today.  Today I just had to switch at Chinatown, you know, to change things up a bit.

The Chinatown station is icky.  It's an overcrowded, over-complicated, stuffy station (no offense G-Place, C-Town, but it's true).  Trying to switch from the Red line to the Green is a real feat.  You know that scene in 300 in which the Spartans form a human wall and push the huge Persian army off a cliff?  The one that's on all the posters?  It's like that.  Except instead of a whole Persian army, I'm just me, so it's really unfair.

Yet once again I would not give up.  I broke free of that suffocating crowd and made my way towards the gate to tag out (= how to avoid paying exit fare when you have a short trip metro pass and a too long commute).  Suddenly, I saw a train approaching from underneath the platform, and knowing how unpredictable the green line can be in the morning, I forwent the tagging out and made a run for it.  I made it with time to spare.

I was deeply engrossed in my space-out-on-the-train routine, when suddenly the tunnel opened up and I found myslef being shuttled over the Potomac.  While that provides for a wonderful view, it is not supposed to happen during my commute to school.  It was with dawning apprehension that I raised my gaze, and my eyes were met with that most contemptible of words, in neon writing suspended from the ceiling: YELLOW.  Oh, how it mocked me!  I was careening straight towards God Knows Where, Virginia, and there was nothing I could do about it.  I kept my cool, lest any of my fellow passengers realize my grievous error.  When the train pulled into a stop at Pentagon, I calmly got up, knowing that I still had time to turn around and arrive to school  by eight.  I waited for the doors to open with no trace of freaking out on my face.  And I waited.

 And I waited.

And then, would you guess what happened?  The conductor came over the intercom to let us all know that a suspicious package had been found at Pentagon station ("Hey! That's where I am!"), and we would have to get off at Pentagon City.  But first we waited at Pentagon for a good 15 minutes.  But it was for my safety or something, so it was OK.  When I finally got to Pentagon City, I was told that a shuttle had been requested to get to L'Enfant Plaza ("Great!  That's where I need to go!").   So I waited outside of the station.  And I waited.  And I waited.  For like a half hour.  In the cold.  There was zero communication.  Then a bus, that had been parked next to me for that whole half hour, decides to make a run to L'Enfant.  Well, how freakin convenient!  I got on the bus (ever played "sardines"?), got to L'Enfant, took the bus to school, and got there at 8:50, just in time to miss my monthly literacy coordinator conference call!

Also, my class had a sub that day.  They were not very well behaved.  Not very well behaved at all.

At least there was a Christmas show put on by some of the students, which made the whole day all right.

Happy holidays!

P.S.  I found out later that day that the "suspicious package" was a blinking Christmas ornament in a trashcan.

Best Week Ever

This was the Best Week Ever.  I probably wouldn't be saying that if I hadn't made up a week's worth of sleep last night, but I did, so I can look back on this past week with no regrets.


I'll be honest; I don't really remember all of the events of the week in chronological order.  There was just too much that happened, and by now it's all conglomerated into one big, scrumptious mess of Best Week Ever.


Monday night I was supposed to see a concert put on by the Anti-Defamation League at the Kennedy Center.  Unfortunately, there was a mix-up with the tickets that were supposed to be allocated to City Year folk, so I couldn't go.  Not unfortunately, there was another great event happening that night: Wes Moore, a "youth advocate, Army combat veteran, promising business leader and author" was giving a speech at GW on his book, The Other Wes Moore.  I had never read the book before, but I had heard about it and found the story really inspiring.  Wes Moore also has a reputation for being a great public speaker, and he is giving a portion of all the book's proceeds towards City Year, so a bunch of the Corps members went to hear him speak.  For those of you who aren't familiar with his story, I suggest looking up his website, because he can describe it far better than I can.  I will tell you that he is one of the most inspirational people I have ever heard.  I stayed to get my copy of his book signed (biggest stipend splurge to date).  I had to wait in line for an hour, but it was one of the more worth it things I've done.  When it was finally my turn, he saw me in my uniform and gave me this look of what I can only call gratitude and thanked me for my service.  He was so sincere in everything he said.  I was a little shocked, because he his a man who has devoted his adult life to helping others, and he was thanking me!  That's not something I'm going to forget any time soon.  It made that night's dinner, which I ate promptly at 10:30, that much sweeter.  


Wednesday morning I had to be at the office at 7:00 AM for this year's first corporate Breakfast of Champions (BOC).  BOC's are open to anyone involved with or interested in helping or joining City Year.  It's our way of appreciating those who help us, while also luring in potential corps members or donors.  The corporate BOC's are aimed towards those belonging to - here's the shocker! - corporations.  I was there to give tours of the office, talk about City Year, and show off some of the CY culture (PT, anyone?).  I got to meet some team sponsors and others interested in giving to City Year.  I also got to eat a lot a lot of pastries (and I mean A LOT).  So it was a great time.


Thursday night I obviously went to see Harry Potter.  I was suuuuuper tired, but it was super awesome.  I haven't read the book since it came out (I know, shame on me), but it made the movie extra enjoyable.  I wasn't all, "OMG that isn't what's supposed to happen!"  And that snake was freakin scary.


Friday, my class went on a field trip to The Phillips Collection, an art gallery in Dupont Circle.  I have never seen my students so well behaved before.  They got so into it!  I found out that one of them is an absolutely incredible artist.  On the bus ride over, I sat next to Jovanka, who I had previously labeled as "the girl who pushed me and whined all the time and lied more than she told the truth."  We had a really great time.  She asked me if I was born with my hair and told me all about her family and her Thanksgiving plans.  We sang (she stumbled through) bits of "Seasons of Love."  She asked me to teach her that big number some time ("It's like, 'five thousand three hundred thousand,' or something like that").


The whole week was filled with some really quality interactions with students.  I'm starting to grow really attached to the first graders, who I work with for after-school clubs and Starfish, an after-school program City Year runs as a mini City Year of sorts for first through third graders.  In arts and crafts club, we had them write about what they're thankful on different colored paper leaves.  My favorite was "I am thankful for City Year teach me mooves."  One of the girls surprised me with a hug one day and said "I love you so much!"  They're all just precious.  I wish you could see their faces.


And now for the absolute highlight of my week, and possibly even my time with City Year so far:
I was working with Amon (or rather, doing everything I could to keep him away from his classmates).  His house recently burnt down, so I've been especially wary around him lately.  He didn't want to read, so I improvised and decided to do something with the map of the world on the floor.  He would throw a nickel up, and I would tell him the name of the country where it landed.  When it landed on Russia, he told me that his father had been in jail in Russia, but it wasn't so bad, because he visited him on weekends and it only took about 2 hours.  The whole time I was working with him, he didn't call me any derogatory terms or threaten to shoot my boyfriend once (read: big improvement).  Right as he was getting tired of our game, Durim came over to me and asked if we could read a book together.  I said yes, and he chose The Giving Tree, which is an absolute tear jerker.  I asked him to sit with me so I could read it, but he defiantly sat down on a chair and told me to sit on the carpet.  He was going to read to me.


Understand that Durim is possibly the worst reader in the class, including those in special ed.  On a reading assessment in which he was supposed to be able to read a minimum of 100 words in a minute, he read about 30.  I saw one of his written responses in class one time, and in the whole paragraph (which was surprisingly lengthy), the only correctly spelled word was "mother."  "Her" was "re," and "and," in," and "a" were all interchangeable.  Most of the "words" were incoherent strings of consonants that he couldn't even read back to me.  Couple that with the fact that he has quite an abysmal track record behaviorally, and you can imagine why I didn't have very high expectations.


He opened the book in such a way that I could see the pictures and began: "Once there was a tree..."  He read in the sweetest voice I'd ever heard come from him.  He made sure to pause before he turned each page, so that I could see the pictures.  He didn't get frustrated when I had to feed him a word.  He just kept barreling on.  I'm not exactly the incarnate of Niagra Falls that my mother is, but I have a hard time fighting back tears just thinking about it.  He kept looking back at me to make sure I was listening, and read the book with all the right vocal inflections.  When he read "'Come boy,' she whispered," he caught himself and proceeded to whisper the entire page.  He made it all the way up until the final three pages, at which point the class was transitioning and he got too distracted.


 I was pulled out of my reverie and had to read the last bit to him, but the feeling I felt while he was reading to me still hasn't entirely left me.  The change I've seen in him this last week is staggering.  He is working harder and behaving better than I have ever seen him.  Every day he makes sure that I tell Mrs. Zeljak and Mrs. Dodik how good he's being.  And I don't ever hesitate to.

Gimme some more of that vitamin D!

Natural light is one of the best forms of therapy.  I had the pleasure of leaving my apartment this morning to a glorious blast of sunshine to my face.  It was such a pleasant surprise, after the past month of dark-cloaked departures.  All my love and admiration goes to Mr. Daylight Savings.  My high school history textbooks simply did not do him justice.


Now, the notable part of today:


Today, I got to leave school in the middle of the day to do PT for the Eighth Annual Catalog For Philanthropy  (CFP) Kick-Off Volunteer Opportunity, launching the 2010 Giving Season.  PT (physical training), is something we do at City Year to "inspire the community around us, and to prepare our minds and bodies for a powerful day of service."  It consists of a varying assortment of exercises led by the PT crew (super enthusiastic corps members) and executed by the whole corps. We usually do PT outdoors in very public places, which is totally awesome, but today I had the treat of doing it at the Sidney Harman Center (on a real stage!).  At one point, we had the whole audience get up and do one of the moves with us!  It was pretty silly.  


The theatre we were in had these acoustics that just knocked my black or white socks off.  I have to admit, it made me a little nostalgic for my high school days spent on the stage (you know, way back when).  At least there's no shortage of theatrics in my daily life.  At the school I work at, one gets a healthy dose of love ("He liiiiiiiiiikes youuuuuuuuuuuu!"), sabotage ("He threw that pencil!" "Nah, she did!"), good guys and bad guys ("Imma steal you!"), and, of course, comedic relief (can't think of a good one liner off the top of my head; you'll just have to take my word for it that fourth graders are freakin hilarious).


Now, though the sun has set, I can enjoy the end of the day in my favorite way: eating homemade (Rachel-made) pumpkin pie with a side (I use that term liberally) of $4-a-gallon neapolitan ice cream from Giant, listening to the gently lilting sounds of some trashy new sitcom Zack is watching a few feet away, and wishing Tiffer's chicken tenders were in my belly (update: snagged one!).  So to you, Mr. Savings: thank you.  Thank you for a beautiful, sunshiney, City Year day.  

Why I'm generally in bed by 9:30

I love my students.  I love them I love them I love them.  It's curious how the thing that drains me to the point of sheer exhaustion every day is the same thing that fuels me and keeps me sane.  I knew children could be a handful, but I didn't know to what extent.  I also didn't know how quickly I would grow to absolutely love them.  I guess if kids had no redeeming qualities, the human population would have gotten its tubes tied a while back.  But I digress.    

I thought it was about time to introduce my students, through a mask of anonymity granted by a Slovenian name generator, to my three or four close relatives who read this blog.  The main characters:

Ms. Zeljak  Fourth grade teacher extraordinaire, she exudes the kind of "mama bear" persona that makes her both feared and revered by all of her students - not to mention other students, and even faculty members.  She is a force to be reckoned with, and absolutely wonderful to work with. 

Ms. Dodik  Former teacher, and now the dean of students, Ms. Dodik has been credited with turning the school around.  This woman runs the school.  She has been a part of the Ferebee community for well over twenty years, and knows every student and his uncle.  You don't mess with Ms. Dodik.

Ilse  The closest thing I have to a model student.  She's sweet, funny, kind, well liked by everyone, and probably the coolest fourth grader I have ever met.  Everybody loves Ilse.  She, along with most of her classmates, is under-performing in reading and math, but that's not for lack of trying.  

Durim  In a movie, he would be one of the kids I set out to "fix."  I took him outside the classroom to go to the bathroom once, and he used the opportunity to run laps around the fourth floor for five full minutes, shrieking and cackling the whole time.  Rarely a day goes by that he is not summoned to Ms. Dodik's office.  However, more frequently I've been seeing signs of sensitivity and trying in him, and I have to say, it's priceless.  He's one of the farthest behind academically, reading at around a first grade level, but lately I've seen him put in a little more effort.  Durim and I are going to have fun this year.  

Lirim  Another one of the "bad boys" of the class, though not as notorious as Durim.  Lirim tends to act out in a more subtle way, making snide remarks whenever I pass by or refusing to follow directions.  

Jovanka  This girl has attitude.  The famous Jovanka pout has become a regular feature in Ms. Zeljak's class.  At first I thought her stubborn facade to be impenetrable, but then I learned about her background.  Jovanka is the baby in a family of ten or eleven siblings, and has lived with Aunt Giorgina for almost her whole life, due to her mother's history of substance abuse.  A little love goes a long way with Jovanka.  We've definitely had some great moments.  

Zala  Did I mention attitude?  I don't think I knew attitude until I met Zala.  We have had one or two good days, but most of the time she likes to remind me of how much better last year's City Year was and how much she hates the new City Year.  She would win the award of class clown; I have to admit, it can be hard not to laugh at all the faces she throws me when Ms. Zeljak's not looking.  

Karel  Karel.  What can I say about Karel?  He is one of the sweetest kids I have ever met, and every day he surprises me further by sticking up for a picked-on classmate or saying something extremely insightful.  Karel is quiet and soft-spoken, but his smile can just melt your heart.  He can run into trouble through hanging with Durim and Lirim, but he respects me more than any other student.  According to Ms. Zeljak, Karel has a bit of a record, but it has yet to show.

Marija  Marija had to transfer to our class a couple weeks ago due to behavior issues in her previous class.  She can be extremely rambunctious and has mood swings like nothing I've seen, but I've there's some definite good in her.  She's also significantly more advanced than most of her peers at reading - that is to say, almost at grade level.  

Lizika  Lazika is very behind and acts far younger than most of her classmates.  She shuts down easily and doesn't have many close friends in the class, so helping her has been a struggle.  

Matej  One of the students enrolled in special ed, I don't get to see him as much as the others.  When he is in class, he has the effect of brightening my day.  He is the closest thing I've seen to a human embodiment of a puppy.  Unfortunately, he rarely seems to be able to grasp what's going on around him.

Diko  Ms. Zeljak tells me that Diko spent much of last year in the hospital, for unknown reasons, and since then, has seemed a little off.  Diko is sweet as can be, but, like Matej, can seem a bit oblivious at times.  The positive side of this is that he is always happy, but I have never seen him stay on task for more than five minutes at a time, and he tends to find himself missing recess for reasons unknown to him.  

Karmina  Karmina is doing relatively okay academically (key word "relatively"), but she can get a bit moody.  She is always vying for my attention and help, which is good because it means she's interested in learning, but not so good because she needs to become more independent in her work.  The cries of "I need heeeeeeeeeeeelp" are starting to get a bit grating.  

Amon  Another one of the big "problem students."  Amon is also enrolled in special ed, but he is the farthest thing from timid and gentle Matej.  Amon is the shortest kid in the class, even though he is already ten, and he seems to supplement self-esteem issues with violence.  It is rare to see Amon walking down the halls without a school administrator leading him by the hand.  The school has all but given up on him.  Amon is reading below kindergarten level, but boy, can this little guy run his mouth.  However, it could be wishful thinking, but I think I'm growing on him.  It's been over a week since he's given me any attitude.  I'd like to say Amon and I are starting to form a special bond.  

Anton  Probably the most social kid in class.  He's a little chatterbox with the girls he sits with during class and doesn't hold back with the boys at lunch either.  Anton is one of the best kids I've ever met, ever.  He's pretty behind in reading, but leads the class in math and has memorized the names of almost all the presidents in order.  His favorite music is rap, hip hop, and classical.  

Dejon  Along with Durim and Diko, Dejon is one of the boys I'll be helping the most with literacy.  Dejon's a sweet kid with a big heart, but he gets frustrated very easily with schoolwork.  Dejon is usually better behaved than most of the boys, but he has a tendency to slip when provoked.  Dejon is one of my favorites to observe during lunch, as he often leads the other boys in freestyling.  I have to say, the boy has rhythm.  

There are 23 kids in the class, but these are the ones I'll be working with the most.  As to why so many of them are so far behind, Ms. Zeldak tells me that all the current fourth graders had a pretty incompetent teacher in second grade, and for all intents and purposes, should have been held back as a grade, but logistically, it made no sense.  So they moved on to third grade, in which half of them were met with another sub-par teacher.  Consequently, a majority of them are now reading at a first or second grade level.  

All I can say is, it's a good thing they're cute.