An old piece...

Since I haven't had much of a chance to write over the past few weeks I thought I would add a piece here that I wrote in Feb 2010.  It was originally posted as a note on facebook but I recently "re-discovered" it when a student of mine made a comment about it at school.

Enjoy
~DJ

You know, I have to admit that I'm not much on the blogging band wagon. I don't write them. I don't read them. I remember learning back in my high school AP Psych class about a phenomenon called the "Stranger on the Bus" in which people will unveil their entire life stories to a complete stranger and vowing that I wouldn't ever be that person. However, as I sit here tonight in the wake of both tragedy and inspiration I cannot help but throw at least one foot on the band wagon while desperately trying to drag the other through the dirt...

The 2009/2010 school year started with a sour, but all too familiar, taste. Tech lost a beloved student on labor day weekend, another student shortly after, and I lost a prior student shortly after that. In my short career in education I have seen 6 students buried too young...and all to senseless acts of street violence. It's all too easy to chalk it up to "those kids" or "you can't save them all" but I find it harder and harder to buy in to that mindset and find it easier and easier to believe that there is true change on the horizon for our young people.

It is true that I am rarely open about many emotions and hold them inside until they burst out in some sort of emotional storm, which unfortunately, usually comes in the unsightly form of anger. This is the first time that I have sat, wrote, and reflected about the students I have lost in the past.

It is no surprise that music of all kinds drives my life and speaks to me in a way that no other person, book, or blog can. For some reason, as cliche as it sounds, when I reflect on these losses the first thing that comes to mind is the song Changes by Tupac. Despite the street violence that the artist often wrote about, this song is truly a piece of art. In fact, the message is so deep that the Vatican has placed it among it's playlist on myspace.com; among songs of God, world peace, and deep, thought evoking pieces of orchestra.

But really...is that just the way it is? Will things never be the same? The song tells us "we ain't ready to see a black president" and here we are in 2010 defying those odds. What else can be accomplished with the simple message in the closing of the song? "It's time for us as a people to start making some changes. Let's change the way we eat, let's change the way we live, and let's change the way we treat each other. You see, the old way wasn't working so it's on us to do what we gotta do...to survive."

While I do feel I have the blessed opportunity to make a change each and every morning that my alarm clock goes off, I had the rare opportunity to really make a change this past week. I was fortunate enough to take 47 kids to the Sierra Mountains for a 3 day ski trip. Growing up in the midwest, I have forgotten that snow is a rare sight for so many of the students I work with. In fact, as I grew up snow was taken for granted...even became a nuisance.

At the end of each day all 47 students and 4 of my colleagues held a fake microphone to our mouths and told the rest of the group what our favorite part of the day was. There are 2 quotes that will stick with me for the rest of my life. On the first night as the flashlight microphone was passed it found its way into the hands of a very soft spoken asian boy. The words he spoke next will be my inspiration that gets me through until June. "My favorite part of today was seeing it snow for the first time." It is such a seemingly meaningless statement. But to a boy who was born in Asia and has struggled trying to find himself in the streets of Oakland, learn a new language and culture, and feels alone in a room full of people it was a statement he may have never made without the wonderful staff at Tech. How many of us have been privileged enough to see snow? How many of us never get excited anymore when we have to walk out in the morning to brush that snow off our cars? I later saw this young man laying in the middle of a run, goggles off, tongue out, lapping up every small flake that managed to find its way into his mouth. Breathtaking.

The next day I was on a lift with 2 of my fellow staff members and as we exited, a student (we'll call him George) turns around and yells "Ms. Sabella...I'm going all the way to the bottom. I'll see you guys later!" Now, mind you, it is hard to read the emotion in his voice but I am here to tell you that in that moment the senior in high school was suddenly reverted back to an earlier day in childhood. George, with his pants tucked inside his rental boots, goggles crooked on his black helmet, and unzipped coat looked like something of a cartoon...but the smile on his face, the excitement in his voice, and the confidence he carried as he went zooming down the mountain alone was a picture I will not soon forget.

I cannot begin to explain why these 2 events stuck with me so vividly. I'm sure I have heard many inspirational things since I first stepped foot into a school...but it was something about the hearing those words that made water well up in my eyes. Perhaps you understand, perhaps you don't...and perhaps if you are in education yourself it makes more sense to you.

I walked off the bus (albeit annoyed with children for the time being) with a sense of pride, accomplishment, and pure joy. Any of you who know me well know that I am very passionate about 3 things in my life. Family. Teaching urban youth. The outdoors. While I am certain that this trip quenched the thirst for 2 of the 3, I am not so sure it didn't, in part, create a larger family for me. I know that years down the road these students will be talking about the ski trip they took in high school. I know among those conversation my name will pop up and the members of that new found family will laugh, smile, and remember the group of teachers that made such an amazing trip possible for them. I know that I changed some lives this week. I know that this week I helped at least one child believe in him or herself. I know that my friendly words of encouragement helped somebody deal with an unfortunate circumstance that I knew nothing about. I know that I showed a kid that making a mistake is ok. I know that I showed a kid that laughing is the best way to go through life. I know that I showed them life is better when living it behind smiles.

I am inspired.

Busy, busy, busy

Just realized that I have so much to write about...but so little time.  I will try to post again within the next few days as many, many new things have happened.  I finally finish my job as testing coordinator (for a test I do not believe in) this week and my free time will increase exponentially!

Thanks to all of you that have read this blog and e-mailed, texted, called, or otherwise contacted me with your thoughts!  You all are the best...

Rewards, finally.

While teaching is often considered a thankless career there are many moments in which you can sit back and think to yourself "this is why I do it."  Unfortunately, those moments are often clouded by the ever present struggle of trying to provide a fix for the educational inequities that my students face on a daily basis.  My work is never done.  There is always something more I could do, another way to present, another phone call to make.  Exhaustion often sets in before the to-do list is completed and on the rare occasion that the weekend is free of work you often find yourself dreaming about the students and the tasks in the coming week.

Because of this tiring cycle it is hard to sit back and learn to appreciate yourself for what you have accomplished.  Teaching is humbling.  How can I toot my own horn knowing in full that my students are still not where they need, and deserve, to be?  However, since breaking the news to my student I have a new found perspective on my work over the last 5 years.  This perspective did not come from my own desire to be appreciated, but rather from a series of letters written to me during class last Friday.  Every week my students spend 5 or 10 minutes writing a quick letter to me.  This is an opportunity for them to tell me anything they want to get out.  Some students tell me they are simply going to play video games all weekend.  Some reflect on their week and if they accomplished their weekly goal.  Some tell me their deepest, darkest secrets in hopes that I can provide some guidance.  Others simply tell me they have nothing to write about.  It is through these letters that I have gotten to know my students and figure out what makes them tick.  However, this week was different.  This week most of them reflected on the news that I gave them and had some amazing words to share.  This is one of the few times I have been able to truly sit back, relax, and enjoy the rewards that are presented by my students.  Below, I have chosen to display some of my favorite letters from Friday's assignment.  The letters are written verbatim so any grammar or spelling errors are intentional.

"Dear Mr. C,
It really sucks that you are leaving from Tech.  You have been my favorite teacher this whole school year, and you have been the one I felt motivated me to come to school everyday.  You make me feel everyday I should want to come to school, graduate, and go to college to make something out of myself.  I feel that I get more support from you when I do good in school then I do from my family.  I just want to say to you that you are a wonderful teacher, you do a wonderful job at teaching us, and I thank you so much for being here and being the wonderful person that you are.  I have learned so much from you this year!  Thank you Mr. C.  I hope you believe in yourself as I believe in you.  I will miss you alot.  I am thankful for having you this school year.  Love you Mr. Cervantes.  May I saw that you are the best and I will miss you alot.  Thanks for being here."

"Dear Mr. Cervantes this week was very "exciting", and I am going to miss you so much.  I hope your life is happy and comfortable in Boston.  Be encouraged!  Mr. C and keep your head up"

"Dear Mr. C, I'm really sad that you are leaving us next year.  I hope you have a nice life in Boston.  Hope you think about me alot."

"Dear Mr. C,
I am so sad that you are leaving this year.  You were one of my favorite teachers.  You taught me alot this year that I would've probably never knew.  I love you Mr. Cervantes <3."

"Dear Mr. C,
After you told us that your moving I'm really going to miss you :(.  You ARE my best teacher at tech and I'm really dissapointed that its you leaving but I do understand your reasons."

"Dear Mr. C,
You really care about us and I respect your decision.  I hope you have a nice life in Boston!"

"Dear Mr. C,
This week was fine.  I was very sad that you told us that your leaving but I'm also happy that your doing something for yourself and to better your life! :) :).  So yea good luck!! and congrats on everything!!"

"Dear Mr. Cervantes:
this week was so long I was sick & then you give bad news.  I was really upset that your leaving.  even though my mom doesn't know you I talked about you so much to her & she feels like your leaving her too, but I'm happy we got to spend some emotional & enemotional times together. SMH!"

"Man, Mr. C it will suck like just suck when you leave.  No more coming up here to visit because your not here.  Your really gonna be missed.  I'll find you on facebook.  I wish you the best Mr. C.  Hope you have fun out there in Boston."

"Dear Mr. C,
I'm sad that you're going to leave, but i want you to be happy :)  I hope that you'll never forget about this class b/c we sure will miss you."

"Dear Mr. C,
I just wanted to let you know that I'm very upset you have to leave this school/community and move to Boston.  I wish their was a way you wouldn't have to leave.  I'm going to miss you Mr. C, and I know its so hard to say goodbye to a students like YA BOI  (LOL)"

"Mr C i feel like you been a great teacher and friend to me this year.  i know it hard for you to leave us but its what you need to do.  All i wont from you is to come back and check up on me and tell me about your life.  i going to miss you old man"

"Dear Mr. C -
Can I move in with you when you go to Boston?  Can you adopt me?  I think I should be your personal stylist.  I can make you look super duper kool with a capital "K" N E ways how's life? ALRIGHT IM GONE peace, love, & tacos"

They are so amazing.  I've been getting lots of visitors since the news is spreading.  I think tomorrow I will count how many students come to give me a hug.  It seems to be increasing exponentially as the news spreads.

Hi, I'm Mr. C from...Mt. Baldy?

There comes a time in a man's life when he has to own up to the fact that his hair is falling out.  Nobody says we have to acknowledge the alarming rate at which is disappears but everyone knows, as a male, we are obligated to come up with some sort of excuse.  I like to think my excuse is valid but then again, excuses are like assholes: everybody has one.

My students find it particularly amusing to throw in jokes about my hair line whenever they see an opportunity.  If it weren't for their quick wit it might get old.  However, I rarely hear the same joke twice.  If only I could get them to think this fast when it came to mastering the Physics standards...

I have to admit, many of my most fond memories in the classroom come at the expense of my own embarrassment.  More often than not at the expense of my poor hairline which continues to run and hide...never to return.

Today, I was "lucky" (?) enough to become the victim of 2 well thought out balding jokes.  The first came in my 3rd period class.  As we wrapped up our work for the day the students asked if I had any pictures from when they were freshmen.  Me have pictures?  Does a bear shit in the woods?

As the first picture comes up I hear a soft snicker from the corner of the room.  We flip to another picture and I hear a voice mutter something and more snickering.  We flip again and again and more side comments are made.  After a few minutes of this the entire class is laughing.  I, apparently, am the only one that doesn't get the joke.  Finally, it clicks in my head what is going on.  The young lady in the corner of the room made a joke and it spread, rather quickly, all across the room.  She pretends to cry, rubs her eyes, and says:

"Mr. C, I want you to know that I'm going to miss you so, so much and I have a huge favor to ask of you."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"All the mirrors in my house are broken and I was wondering if you could help me get a new one.  It won't cost you anything...all you need to do is come over and let me use your bald forehead!"

Now, normally, I would have a quick witted response back to this but I must say I was speechless.  No response...just laughter.  M: 1 Mr. C: 0

The second joke came from a freshman in my 6th period class.  This one was so clever and witty that I, again, had zero response.  A very rare occasion.

We are learning about electricity in class right now and my students have had a lot of questions about lightning.  I have a pretty cool video that explains it much better than my words ever can so I decided today would be a good day to show them.  Unfortunately, this video involved some talk about a research tower on Mt. Baldy in New Mexico.

"This research facility sits on top of Mt. Baldy in New Mexico..."

"Mr. C!  You lied!  You said you are from Michigan!  Hey, y'all...look it's Mr. C's hometown!  Mt. Baldy."

H: 1 Mr. C : 0...damn.  That's 0-2 for the day.  A rare occurrence.

While the jokes, roasting, and teasing (all in good taste) have become commonplace in my classroom culture I think it really speaks to something larger.  These young people are so observant.  They watch my every move.  Feel my energy.  And respond accordingly.  I have never had a student make a joke or tease me when they could feel me having a rough day.  I have never had them cross any lines or make me uncomfortable.  At the young age of 14 and 15 they have learned how to read me and what I'm feeling.  Even when I try to put on a show when times are tough they have me figured out.  I can't hide from them.  I can't pretend.  I have come across adults who were not able to read my energy...even when I was so obviously feeling frustration, pain, or exhaustion.  Again, I am amazed at the empathy my students can display at any moment in time.  I am forever under the watchful eyes of teenagers and they always seem to know what to say or do...

I like to think that my classroom is an enjoyable place for young people to learn.  We have fun; we get down to business.  Much of that fun has come at my own humiliation.  Much of the hard work has come from their own determination to take the road less traveled.

I would like to say that it was I who changed the course of so many students but at the end of the day it was my students that changed my course.  Sure, they have added massive amounts of stress to my life.  Sure, I have felt frustrated, angry, hopeless, defeated.  Sure, I have had the undying desire to walk out my classroom and never return.  What teacher hasn't?  But at the end of the day, we have always worked it out and always found a way to travel that long road.

So, what is my excuse for losing my hair?  I don't blame it on genes (although they don't help!)  I blame it on fear.  Fear of failing my students.  Fear of not setting them up to be successful.  Fear that one day they will look back and feel like they didn't get 100% from me.  I was 21 years old when I walked into my first classroom.  Not much older than the students sitting in front of me.  At 21 I felt something I had never felt before.  Over the last 5 years that fear has never subsided.  Was I everything I could be?  Could I have handled this differently?  What can I do to better myself?  If I fail, they fail.  If they fail they miss out on an opportunity every child in this country deserves.


Although my amazing students have certainly played a role in my hair loss I would not trade a single one of them for a single lost hair.  Well...maybe a few.  Actually, no.  Not a single one.

The official countdown begins...

As many of you know I have accepted a position with Teach for America (recently ranked in the top 100 places to work) as a Program Manager and will, within the next 2 months, be packing up the few things I call my own and making a long and reflective drive from coast to coast.  It is an exciting time for me...but also a hard time.

For years I have told myself that I will start a blog to detail my experiences teaching in Oakland, CA and it seems as though I have been unable to get around to it until now.  5 years have passed since I first walked into a classroom and the room was lit up with 35 children dying to figure out what I was all about.  While my teaching practices have changed drastically over the years my resolve for educational inequity has remained.  I have seen many tragic and beautiful things.  Oakland is both beautiful and tragic.  At its best when beauty triumphs over tragedy...and at its worst when tragedy meets the beauty.  I have lost students to violence, health, and prison.  I have gained a loving relationship with over 600 young people that have overcome challenges I can not even begin to imagine.  I have been inspired, empowered, and proud of what the young people of Oakland have, and will continue, to accomplish in their lives.

Today marks 34 days in my teaching career.  I woke up today with an overpowering feeling of guilt that I had not yet told some of the most important people in my life my decision to move to Boston and start a new life; my students.  As I started to teach my first lesson for the day my eyes welled up with tears, my voice got shaky, and one of my students politely raised her hand, asked if I was ok, and then ran to the front of the classroom to give me a hug.  As she wrapped her arms around me the tears became real and I shuttered.  Awe-struck the rest of the class did not know what to do.  Their response?  An entire class group hug.  Every student came to me, wrapped his or her arms around the group and then one of them started singing some strange song (who knows with these kids) and everyone joined in.  The tears quickly turned to laughter and it was at that point that I knew I owed it to them to tell them the large changes that were going on in my life.

As they all settled back into their seats with obvious concern for my well being I could no longer pretend to be stoic and hold back the emotions I have suppressing for some time.  It was time to break the news.  I sat on my stool, started to talk, stopped.  Started again.  Stopped.  Started again and finally got it out.  "I don't know how else to say this other than to tell you right out that I will not be returning to Tech next year."  My tears were fueled by theirs and we had a long talk about my decision and how hard it will be for me to walk out of the doors of Tech on June 16th...never to return as a teacher again.

"Mr. C...why are you leaving us?  Everybody leaves us!  Are we bad?"  How do you respond to a 15 year old when he says that to you?  How do you look at a young man who has been abandoned by people who he loves time and time again.  All I could do was lock eyes with him and promise that it was a personal decision and it was nothing that he, or they, had done.

"Mr. C...don't leave us!  Actually, it's ok if you leave.  I just hope you are making the right decision for you and I'm proud of you for doing what is best for you."  How does a 14 year old girl know to say such things?  How can she be so empathetic in the face of so much tragedy and hardship?  Her 4 year old brother is handicapped from a tragic car accident as a baby and she has had to step up and help the family with his care.  That's how.  She has experienced tragedy.  She knows pain.  She feels emotions so intuitively.  She, like so many of my other students, is so in tune with emotions because she has felt them beyond anything I can even begin to imagine.

The bells rings.  Repeat.  The bell rings again and in come my seniors.  My leadership class.  My babies (as I like to call them.)  This is my first group of high school students and the first time I will see a student that I taught walk the stage.  We reflect back to their freshman year.  Some of these students walked into my classroom as a freshman never having experienced high school.  I was in the same shoes.  (My first year I taught middle school)  We looked at each other and thought..."ok, what now?" 

This was my hardest group to tell.  I have grown incredibly close with these young ones over the years and have watched them grow physically, emotionally, and spiritually over the course of 4 years.  I could not have more pride in a group of people for what they have accomplished.  Many of their classmates are no longer with us (this group has experienced the death of over 35 young people since their 8th grade year).  Whether it is violence, drop out, or other factors, the simple fact of the matter is that they are no longer with us.  The students in front of me have come out on top when all odds were stacked against them.  You see, they graduate on June 14th from a school district that does not graduate roughly 50% of its students.  For some of them, nobody thought they would make it.  Few believed in them.  They did it on their own.  They found a way.

As the bell rings and they get up and leave class much slower than normal there are very few dry eyes in the room.  Again, even my own fill up with tears as the streaks on my cheeks start to finally dry.  It starts all over again.

The bell rings.  Repeat.  The bell rings. Repeat.  The bell rings...go home and sleep off one of the most emotionally heavy days I have experienced in a very long time.

I wish all of my students knew how much they have impacted me.  I tried to tell them today but it just isn't possible to put those feelings into words.  They have changed me in ways I could have never imagined.  They have touched my heart.  My soul.  My being.  I will forever remember the times I had, both amazing and challenging, when I could call myself a teacher in Oakland Unified School District...