This Year vs. Last Year

I've been procrastinating about writing lately, like so many things. I think the root cause is that I've had only a few things to do for work (yeah, right) and consequently no pressing urgency to my procrastination. Usually, I have so much to do for work that the things that I do to procrastinate had to be prioritized and done with great urgency and haste to allow maximum impact to the procrastination and to allow me to get back to pretending to do my work while really watching "Don't Forget the Lyrics" that much sooner. With a lot of downtime at work, I've felt no urgency to procrastinate. I can enjoy Wayne Brady and America's dolts with little guilt.

This month I reached an all-time low in my frustration with my kids. Or maybe it's an all-time high. Whatever. The point is, I wanted to kill them, and am glad to be getting a fresh batch tomorrow with the start of the second semester. Last year, I LOVED my kids. Seriously adored them. Would have gone to the ends of the earth for them. I stood up for them, I was impressed by them, and I wanted to keep them forever. I never really knew what it was that made them so special, but I hoped that every year I would get to have the same thing. I was a little discouraged, then, when by the end of the first quarter, I wasn't really feeling anything for my students this year. There were a couple that I liked and defended, and a few more who I could write decent college recommendation letters for, but even my best kids didn't really hold a candle to my students from last year. I was having the hardest time figuring out why, until I was talking to Carla about it last night. I don't respect my kids this year like I respected them last year, and it's because they are lazy and whiny. My kids last year did their share of complaining, and they were rotten a good part of the time, but at the end of the day, the vast majority of them were working their tails off to do well in my class. Every kid who I think of as my "favorite" from last year worked hard consistently and did well as a result. They came in to retake tests; they made up work; they did their work in class. They worked and worked until they had their PhD - even 89% wasn't good enough for some of them. The only kids who I really have no use for from last year were those who weren't putting in any effort. I taught 150 kids, and by the end of the year, nearly 100 of them had 80% or higher in my class. I respect their hard work so much. Now we flash forward to this year; I teach 50 students, and 7 of them achieved a 70% or higher in my class. Their grades have been consistently low because they aren't completing their class work, aren't doing their homework, aren't making up work, and most certainly are not retaking tests. I've offered that option, and only one student on one exam has taken me up on it. I have had personal grade conferences with every kid to talk to them about why they aren't succeeding and what they need to do to change that; only one kid has put in the necessary effort to bring his grade from failing to passing by doing his homework. Surprise - he's my favorite. Even those who have done well have been given options for ways in which they can do better (like turning in ALL of their homework) and they haven't taken those options, instead settling for a 70% because "at least that's passing." And so, when I really think about what makes these kids different from my babies last year, it boils down to integrity and work ethic. They don't take pride in a job well done and they don't care about their own success, and for that reason, I have no respect for them and I'm glad to be rid of them.

Let me take that back next week, though. Each day this past few weeks, I've gone in to the 10th grade detention room to scope out who got in trouble that day. Of the 15-20 kids in the room, only 3-5 of them were students who I taught. The others are kids who I will be teaching this semester. I can tell that I'm in for a real treat - somehow, I've arranged for all the trouble makers in the second semester. Wish me luck in this endeavor - somehow motivating them to care so I can be motivated to like them, and at the same time not killing anyone when they don't behave. I will need all the patience I can muster.