Number Sense

It was fifty-four degrees this morning-pretty chilly for September in Jersey but I can always smell a fresh school year in the air, and this year was no exception. As I pulled up to the building at 8:27AM (two minutes late, but with a Dunkin iced coffee in hand.) I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of emotions as I stared at the shopping cart entrance to my school. One summer, twenty-seven resumes and zero interviews, here I am again… year 2 in an urban district. Although those numbers seem depressing there were some digits that were in my favor and I couldn’t wait for my colleagues to see: NJASK8 scores. I knew they would be displayed at today’s teacher in-service and I couldn’t wait! My supervisor called me last week to let me know that I had increased scores by 27.4 percent and that my kids were now 56% proficient in Language Arts. Yes, you read that number correctly… Just about half of my kids actually PASSED state testing. If you think those numbers are grim you should know that the students I take on this year are 18% proficient. No pressure there. As expected, I had mixed results from my cohorts based on my success. “Maybe you can give me some tips so one day I can be as wonderful as you.” I mean, how do you respond to that? Um, thank you? As you can well imagine, I don't work with the most "professional" teachers in my field. Last year, I joined a new superintendent, new principal and 23 new teachers replacing those who had been lucky enough to find another job, those who just plain couldn’t handle these kids and ran for the hills and of course those who were let go (fired for letting the kids watch movies all day in a desperate attempt to survive.) This year is no different: eleven new hires, two new principals and another new superintendent. My classroom isn’t pink this year. It’s white and they moved me to a different hallway. I’m pretty sure I’m somewhere in isle 6 or 7 now. There are about 500 text books in my room, 14 desks for 19 students and one tiny book shelf. I asked the new 19-year-old janitor (who asked me on a lunch date to taco bell. Jealous?) to help me move all of the books that weren’t mine out of my room. He winked at me and responded with “whatever you need baby.” However, the books are still all over my tiny room.