Since I rarely share, a few (mostly non-academic) positive moments from the past couple of days (for balance):

-When I complimented Kenyarder's bracelet yesterday, she insisted that I wear it, and keep it. (If she was that intent, I wasn't going to say no.) This morning, she asked why I wasn't wearing it. Usually she talks back and refuses to work. I thought she hated me.
- "Y'all come back now, y'hear"- A comment by our assistant principal at the end of our rather negative staff meeting.
-Watching my students constantly wearing each other's jackets, jewelry, even shoes. (I once had a kid from last year come to my door and tell me that he absolutely needed to see another student. I reluctantly granted permission- he never asks for anything. The student in my class stepped into the hall, and the two wordlessly traded shoes and went to their respective classes.)
-My clock broke today- the cheap cardboard face was warped and preventing the minute and hour hands from moving. Two of my students- another two who I figured both hated my guts- took it apart and fixed it.
- One of my students, a talented artist but a failing student, drew a detailed plant cell on my board. (Most of the students were not in class today, and I had them drawing and describing cell structures for each other, but he went to another board to do a whole cell.) I suggested art school and reminded him to focus in class so he could get there, because he has a talent but has to graduate to use it. He listened and gave the kind of half-smile that tough kids give when they're trying to pretend they don't care what you're saying and therefore trying not to smile.
-There were lots of kids out of class today, for various reasons, and for all practical purposes, no administrator in the building who does much for discipline. I think I finally, finally understand, that you can not force anyone to learn, and all the frustration and anger I pour at them only makes it worse; when students work, more often than not, it is for the teacher, and not themselves. Most are not knowledge-hungry, but they are attention-hungry. Before you can teach them, you have to love them, and show it. Our anger does not impress them. Our commitment, love, and kindness does.
-Because of various schedule irregularities and activities today, there were several classes at various points in the day that were left without teachers, and from what the students said, left completely unattended to. (Who knows if the kids were telling the truth, but I heard it several times from different kids, it's happened before, and it does not surprise me in the least. Somehow, it doesn't even bother me anymore. I am so used to this that it's routine. The kids are, too.) I had several kids ask to come into my classes, and not the way they do when they're getting into trouble. They had been left by the (Votech) Complex bus or their classes had no teacher or they were getting in trouble with someone's sub. I'm pretty sure the one or two that I allowed in were telling the truth, and it's not like they were learning anything walking the halls; maybe, hopefully, they picked up a concept or two in my class.

I came to the Mississippi Delta with the usual preconceptions of an impoverished land in need of help...a mystical world full of people who have grown up in a culture that is not like the culture I grew up in, a chance to learn.

The more places I live, and the more people I spend time with, the more difficult it becomes to identify with any particular culture. Why, after all, should the cultural experience we had first be the one that defines us?

In a packed high school gymnasium, I watched one of my "favorite" students from last year, now a senior (and I think it's true, by the way, that it's easier to get closer to juniors than freshman) sink 3-pointers , remembering how bright she is, smiling at her flippant attitude. No matter how much you hear about the Delta, you need this to really know what the stories mean. You don't really understand the dark side until you see your students, get to know them and understand their potential. When you see how talented they are, when you really see how bright they shine, then with the classic "stone-in-your-stomach" dread realize, time and time again, what is lost and what is tossed away, the dark part of this becomes clear.

If I had to choose, I would say that the single most defining aspect of teaching in the Mississippi Delta is the hair's breadth distance between intense hope and deep disappointment, between strength and failure. The ups and downs, as I've heard other teachers comment, are the most wearing aspect of this endeavor.

This is old; I found it while sorting.

Locking fingers across a fence
Separate
What you ain't and what he is
What you is
And what they are
What you does
And what they do
And for the life of you
You could not would not cross
The space that separates
The sinners and dreamers
The fighters and speakers

Disclaimer: Of course, our kids are dreamers too, but sometimes it is very difficult for them to look forward, and they would rather be distracted by something immediate. It also seems as though they can never put what they have to say into words (they yell and fight instead); it goes back to the emotional resources bit.

I came to the Mississippi Delta with the usual preconceptions of an impoverished land in need of help...a mystical world full of people who have grown up in a culture that is not like the culture I grew up in, a chance to learn.

The more places I live, and the more people I spend time with, the more difficult it becomes to identify with any particular culture. Why, after all, should the cultural experience we had first be the one that defines us?

In a packed high school gymnasium, I watched one of my "favorite" students from last year, now a senior (and I think it's true, by the way, that it's easier to get closer to juniors than freshman) sink 3-pointers , remembering how bright she is, smiling at her flippant attitude. No matter how much you hear about the Delta, you need this to really know what the stories mean. You don't really understand the dark side until you see your students, get to know them and understand their potential. When you see how talented they are, when you really see how bright they shine, then with the classic "stone-in-your-stomach" dread realize, time and time again, what is lost and what is tossed away, the dark part of this becomes clear.

If I had to choose, I would say that the single most defining aspect of teaching in the Mississippi Delta is the hair's breadth distance between intense hope and deep disappointment, between strength and failure. The ups and downs, as I've heard other teachers comment, are the most wearing aspect of this endeavor.