Posts Tagged ‘Education and Teaching’

Guest blogger Ellie Ponti  of Chronotopia writes a bit about sending a child to boarding school:

Imagine an institute of learning where world-class facilities include top-notch science labs and music studios, impressive assembly halls and cozy classrooms. Supportive teachers with advanced degrees inspire and guide to excellence. Prominent artists and scholars come to campus to give lectures and lead workshops. Students have opportunities to spend a year abroad, participate in research, take challenging classes and play sports from field hockey to sailing. At the end, important public figures with their commencement speeches send off graduating seniors to change the world.

This is not a description of a great college. It’s a typical college preparatory boarding high school – a school that, besides superb academic resources, has residential facilities as well, giving shape to a close-knit community of teachers and students who get to know each other, work together and thrive in a supportive environment. Their goal is not just excellent preparation for college, but developing character and skill for success in life.

Students at these schools learn from each other, too, sharing their life, experiences and diverse points of view. They may be coming from the same town, from distant states or other countries. And their friendships continue for the rest of their lives, since these schools are known for their highly involved alumni. They may have gone on to prestigious colleges and started promising careers and life projects, but they feel close and stay in touch. Their support for their school ensures the generous financial aid available to talented students whose families cannot afford the high tuition, thus continuing the tradition of excellence.

Boarding schools are academically challenging, and admission is very competitive, too. What could possibly attract potential students to such an extent that would override their desire to stay close to family and current friends?

Attending has many benefits and families find different reasons to seek this kind of education for their child. For some, it’s the access to academic resources when the ones available locally are inadequate for the student’s aspirations and capabilities. For others, it’s stability, if the family expects moving elsewhere in the future. For still others, the connection to a certain school is a family tradition.

But the most important reason for applying to a boarding school should be the student’s own desire to attend. Boarding school is a great option for an independent young person, who is self-motivated about his or her studies, curious and responsible, open to new perspectives and accepting of others’ points of view.

These schools are so varied – they may be single-sex or coed, religious or with an emphasis in arts, but they all share the prerequisite of a student-driven interest. You can research different options and get more information on the website of  their association, TABS.

It is certainly not a decision to take lightly. In our case, the idea was facilitated by chance, followed by extensive deliberation. We lived in Boston before coming to Texas and my son was attending Milton Academy in his middle school years. Faced with the prospect of moving, after much thought, he decided to stay on as a boarder in high school. He already knew and liked the environment, his teachers and classmates and was ready to embark on exploration of life in a different, more independent way.

His experience has certainly made him a very independent young man, who knows how to organize his life, travel alone, and who is ready to express his opinion on any topic and pursue goals. He is mature for his age, curious, responsible and interested in the world far beyond his visible horizons.

This has come at the expense of him being at home; he is with us only during vacations. But we treasure those moments more. And I just remind myself that at his age, I wanted to live by myself away from my parents and attend a different school. If  I couldn’t make that happen, I thought, let at least him follow the desire of his heart.

This is one of those don’t-do-what-I-did posts.

I didn’t think the THEA exam, a test to show you had an adequate understanding of basic university subjects such as English and math, would be a big deal. After all I’d done well on the GRE.

The THEA website was rather hard to understand, full of prohibitions and closely printed text. I managed to get registered but I didn’t find anywhere a quick summary of the test, how long it took, what it covered. I admit I didn’t look for very long. I was busy studying for the bilingual teacher exam, a face-to-face deal which I had to take to see if there’s even a hope for me to take a dual language (Spanish and English) class some day in the future. I figured the THEA, which someone, I can’t remember who, suggested was some test that was meant to check if you knew enough to be a teacher, would be a cakewalk. Yesterday morning I showed up to the test center, at UTA, at 8 a.m. with every expectation of being out of there by ten. 

The first thing I realized was I should have brought a calculator. Somewhere in all that impenetrable text on the website they had said you could bring a four-function calculator with you. Next, the proctor began to discribe the test: reading comprehension, mathematics, writing, and evaluation of the writing of others.  We would be given five hours. 

This can’t be as bad as it seems, I told myself. I always finish tests early.  We filled in the identification portion of the answer sheet and began. 

The questions were harder than I thought they would be. Nevertheless, I felt pretty sure I was doing fine until I got to math. Why didn’t I bring a calculator! I am not bad at calculations, long multiplication and division, but this test was designed for someone with a calculator. I began to panic when I ran into a string of three algebra problems in a row, which looked like some form of quadratic equation, and not one Iknew how to solve. Why hadn’t I reviewed basic algebra and geometry, and eaten a full breakfast? I began to calculate not the answers to the problems, but what was going to happen if I failed the math component of the test.

Other worries crowded in. I had left my five year old in the care of a teenaged sibling at 7:15 a.m.. What if he was trying to run away while no one was looking? What if he was teasing the dog, about to get bitten? “Stop thinking this way,” I told myself. They had confiscated all cell phones, so it wasn’t like I could go to the restroom and call to check on them. 

Two hours gone and I was halfway through the second of four sections. Should I give up?  “Stop it,” I told myself. “Just do your best on the math, then it’s the writing and evaluation of writing, and you shouldn’t have any trouble there.  You can hurry throught those sections and you’ll have time to go back and recheck the math, which is the only part you’re really struggling.”

This is what I did. When I finished, ten minutes before the final call, most of the other test takers had left. But I had finished and done the math section twice, and had remembered how to do the algebra, so I felt most of my answers were good. I was exhausted, it was 2 p.m. and all I could think of was to go to my car, get my phone, and call home to make sure the kids were okay.

The phone rang and my daughter picked it up. “Where have you been? You said the test was only going to take a couple of hours! You can’t believe how bad they have been! When are you coming back?”

I’m coming back right now. This is my world, and every time I think I’m going to get a chance to step back and draw a deep breath, I get a reminder.

I’m off to my first day of teacher training this morning. I feel excited. We’re supposed to take a practice test of the elementary teacher exam. “Don’t worry about the results,” the letter from the teaching college said. “This test is just to help your instructors know what to work on most.”

Taking tests is one of my best subjects, though I haven’t covered this material, so I don’t know if I’ll do great on this one. I realize as I sit here this morning I feel afraid to be a “real” teacher. Of course I was also afraid to become a substitute, and afraid of a lot of other things that turned out okay, including being a mom, but fear has been one of the  biggest challenges in my life.

Fears: What if I finish the course and no one wants to hire me? What if  when I start teaching I can’t relate to my class? What if I inadvertently become embroiled in some kind of administrative problem? What if my students don’t do well on the TAKS test? What if I go crazy because I have to work 5 days a week? What if the after school care arrangement for my kids suddenly doesn’t work in the middle of the year, what then? What if I can’t get my kids to to their doctor appointments?

What if I do a good job and it turns out no one notices? Oh come on, I tell myself, don’t be ridiculous. If you do a good job, someone will notice.

It’s 6:50 a.m., and I’m going to put my best food forward, step out in faith. I read, I prayed, I filled out the forms, I’m making the best choice I know how. And what eles does even the finest person ever know how to do?

As I watch my two daughters working through their private university educations, I’m struck by how much they are just like me when I was their age, back when I honestly didn’t realize the magnitude and magnanimity of the gift I was receiving.

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One day I was complaining to one of my professors of the priice of the fees for my public U education. What are you talking about?” he responded. “This is the greatest bargain you’ll ever see!”

Of course, at the time, I hadn’t made a careful cost-benefit analysis of going to college. Like a lot of young people, including some who were written up way back in the time of Aristotle, I was a little bit lazy, self absorbed, and spent and awful lot of time worrying about stuff that was actually going to take care of itself. 

That day the professor pointed out to me that I wasn’t actually working my way through school, that the taxpayers were doing it most of it for me. And at private schools, it’s only a little different, it’s the parents and the school endowment which are picking up the slack.

Back when I was a student, I used to feel as if any second my entire existence was going to flare out. It would have been better, I think, had I realized that in fact my parents, who sent money, the taxpayers, who paid to keep the public university open and even my professors, who tended to take some limited concern of my wellbeing, were investing in me particularly. I was not in fact doing this college degree solely under my own steam.

Today, looking back, I realize that for some reason, my society—my peeps–decided to put a lot of resources into my future back then when my future was just a matter of speculation. That realized, I’d like to tell my daughters and their fellow college students a couple of key points:

1. College students are special. Not everybody  can complete a four year degree. Don’t act like it’s not something to be grateful for, to be in a school, even if it’s not Harvard.   
2. If you’re in college, someone is investing in you. They want something for the future. They want an educated you. 
3. The reason they want an educated you is for our family, our country, and our world. You will have the opportunity to give back when you’re older, and not just by paying off your student loans, though we expect that as well. When you pariticpate in our society, whether by being a doctor or a teacher, a parent or a volunteer, and you do your duty, you will be making the world a better place. The expectation that you’re going to do this is why we send you to that ivory tower on this hill with the wide green lawns and big lecture halls.  
4. If you’re a college student, you’ve received a double gift. First, from the universe, in terms of ability to study. Second, from your countrymen, the actual resources to be educated. It’s up to you to decide what to do with your gifts.
5. At the UT, the fight song is “The Eyes of Texas are Upon You.” I want to say that that is true not just in Austin – the eyes of America are on all our college students. We have sacrificed so that you can study today. Don’t take it lightly. This is your job and our patrimony, our joint heritage, your college degree. We’re doing this for you and for America. So be grateful, and don’t mess it up.

Substitute teaching allows a lot of good opportunities. You get to meet many people and see what they think, the ones you don’t immediately click with are forgotten, because in the long run it doesn’t matter. The school is, by and large, grateful if you’re competent enough to maintain discipline and finish the lesson plan for the day, and you can work when you want and take a day off when you have to. The hardest thing about being a substitute is the students you have to leave behind.

I think, as I go on in this work, that I am the ultimate soft-hearted person. I find it hard, once I’ve met a group of kids, to move on to the next class. I get worried about the individual students, for example a boy in third grade, who I notice is a good writer but completely dyslexic, so if he doesn’t get learning disabilities testing, it’s possible no one will even realize he has a gift.

Next I get worried about a girl who quiety admitted to me the other day that she kicked a boy, hard, when he wasn’t looking, so that he cried, but said she was sorry and asked please to give her another chance. If I was a permanent teacher I’d find out what was going on that made her so angry; as a sub, I just tell her not to do it anymore, and go on.

Then there’s a boy in third grade who broke into tears because he was going home – he said his mother yelled at him a lot because of his homework.  And  a very thin girl who’s very able in math, I think she should be referred to the gifted program – but will her regular teacher notice? She’s exceedingly unassuming. Another student loves to play soccer … I kick the ball with the kids a bit, I would like to see if his sports skills develop over the year.

In another class, I have them reading aloud to the group, a boy raises his hand anxiously, wants to give this reading to his peers a try, but he bogs down badly in the second sentence and collapses in tears. Oh my gosh … he needs emotional support and help with reading as well! I finish the passage for him, pat him on the shoulder, say it’s okay, not to worry, but I know it’s not okay yet. Someone needs to sit down and find out what’s going ono.

I’ve turned this question over in my head for weeks: do I stay on the substitute track or try to get a teaching credential? As time moves forward, and the deadline to apply to an alternative credialing program nears, it seems to boil down to a question of how I relate to students.  I have an impulse to follow up. Turning this over in my mind, I know what I have to do, apply to get into a credentialing program so I can have a chance at my own class in the fall.