Going Anyway

Worth It

Monday, May 22

I had to get up early for a meeting about next year. I didn't want to go because what's the point if I'm leaving in ten days?

What really pissed me off was that over half of the teachers didn't even show up. Every middle school teacher in this building was supposed to be there.

"Is this really the only people who are showing up today?" I asked looking at the few of my co-workers who were there. I had woken up early for this meeting, and when very few people showed up, it was a slap in the face for all the effort I put into my job. "People wonder why our school has so many problems when over half the teachers don't even come to a meetings."

"Well," Jeff said, "at least y'all are here." He didn't seem happy about the lack of an audience, and Jeff doesn't usually get upset.

We went on with the meeting about how we could improve behavior.

And I listened to rants about how we need to fix our students by taking their phones and giving incentives for things they're doing well. There was way too much positivity. Maybe that works for some places, but this school needs more discipline.

Near the end of the meeting, I said, "It starts with us, the teachers. If we don't show that we care about these students, they're not gonna care. These students need people who want to be with them. Students need teachers who follow through with what they say they're gonna do, so at least they know you're consistent. We need to have enthusiasm as we teach. We need to make it clear to them that they can succeed, and they can do the work to get there. I'm moving because I have the responsibility to take care of my niece, and quite frankly, I don't want her to go to a school where the teachers don't care. I know that's candor, but I want my niece to go to a good school. I don't think taking phones away and being more positive is going to change anything. Once I started giving kids detention, they started becoming useful. I'm not saying whip them until they bleed, but y'all have to be tougher. At the same time make it clear that they can succeed, go to college, and make something of themselves."

I was sitting next to Alice who just stared at her hands. I looked around. Only eight teachers were in that conference room. Some looked at me, and some couldn't meet my eyes. The room was so silent, you could've heard pin drop.

"That's easier said than done," Barb Weaves, one the History teachers told me. She is an older lady who is so passive, I was surprised she just tried to disagree with me.

"I did it," I said.

"I agree with Steven," Alice said. "This town needs work, and positivity isn't going to fix everything. We need to show our students that they can and they will college. We have to make it clear to them they need to graduate, or they won't get very far."

Jeff nodded slowly, and sighed. "Steven, what is your secret to discipline?"

I folded my arms. "I'm not afraid to give detentions for behavioral issues or not turning in homework, and if a student needs help, they are required to stay after."

"What happens if they don't?" Paul Davison, the seventh grade English teacher asked.

"I raise my voice the next day in front of their classmates, tell them they're wasting free education, and I tell them to pull they're crap together because they can get out of this impoverished town. I tell them drugs will be their destiny if they don't graduate. I remind them drugs are the worst thing to put in their bodies. I tell them they can have a better life if they graduate. I tell them I love them and that they are worth it. I make it clear to them they are valued, that people care about them and that they deserve to have a chance at the American Dream." I paused. "Sometimes it takes awhile, but we have to be willing to pursue these kids. They need people to believe in them."

I think people actually agreed with me today. Maybe things can change even after I'm gone.