Observation 1 Assignment!

A Morning With Ms.ENGLISH LANGUAGE ART’s AP Literature Class

Or

 A Look Into One Preservice Teacher’s Obsession with Developing Her Teaching Identity

By Colleen Conley

I have my coffee, keys, and cellphone. I walk towards the GENERIC URBAN HIGH SCHOOL wearing my mildly uncomfortable blue corduroys, and the good green sweater my mother got me for Christmas last year. I’m still working on finding Teacher Clothes that don’t make me feel like a Gap mannequin. As I walk through the front the door, the security guard thinks I’m a student. I don’t mind but become acutely aware of my facial piercings. How many fucks do I actually give about aesthetic politics as I really transition from student to professional?

I spent two days a week all last fall at GENERIC URBAN HIGH SCHOOL, volunteering through LOCAL VOLUNTEER AGENCY in an 11th grade classroom. The building still feels huge. Ninth graders must lose it the first few weeks. The building still feels like it is a space for someone else, by which I mean, I’m white and most of the student body is not. There is a decent amount of Spanish flying around and I’d be lying if I didn't admit it makes me a little uncomfortable. File this emotion and think about your ELLs later.  GENERIC URBAN HIGH SCHOOL is about two thirds Hispanic, and a quarter African American. When I zoom out, there is inequity in this country across color lines (among other types of privilege), and I want to be an ally. So, I think I should teach in urban schools. When I zoom in, I’m uncomfortable in urban schools and feel uncomfortable about developing this White Savior complex. Don’t go too far down the rabbit hole Conley. You’ll teach where you get a job and at some point, people are just people like you. But seriously, actually do something about learning Spanish, please! 

“Ms. ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS?” I ask to a woman who is obviously Ms.ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS, considering she is standing outside a door next to a sign that says ‘Ms.ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS’. She nods pleasantly. “I’m Colleen. Ms. Conley, from RIC.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, c’mon in.” I stand awkwardly at the front of the room while students for her 12th grade AP Lit class file in. Cool! A chart tallying student learning styles! Then I see some familiar faces! Some of these students are students I knew last year. It’s a pleasant surprise and a confusing one. Last fall, a lot of these students were struggling with pretty basic grammar. He's in this AP class?

“Hi miss!” I get from a couple of them as they take their seats. Ms. ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS starts the class by asking them to circle up their desks (Thing I Am Taught To Do In Teacher School #1!). They are doing to discuss their progress on the current assignment, which  she has the students explain to her (Thing I Am Taught To Do In Teacher School #2!). They are comparing and contrasting “How It Feels To Be Colored Me” by Zora Neale Hurston with “Notes of a Native Son” by James Baldwin. I spy with my little eye an anti-bias curriculum! She is selecting texts that not only elevate the lives of people of color, but emphasize that they have just as many different and varied experiences as white people do. A student who I never saw voluntarily participate the entire semester I knew him last year, speaks up twice of his own accord. Ms.ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS, I am sort of in love with you.

Exxxxcceeepppppt, in a room with 17 students, only 4 or 5 are really engaged and participating. Most students have a large binder on their desks, and have pulled out their copy of “How It Feels To Be Colored Me”. Students take turns reading paragraphs out-loud, and the class works to identify task, audience, and purpose. I smell the Common Core! While she frequently checks for understanding (Thing I Am Taught To Do In Teacher School #3!), she’s only doing it with about half or three quarters of the room. There are three boys to my left that don’t have binders and it’s hard to tell if they even have the reading out. She remains calm and patient, but at some point I can tell she feels like she’s pulling teeth.

“C’mon guys. You signed up for this class. On some level you must want to be here,” she remarks. They just signed up for it? Wait...how do they get into this class?

Towards the end of class, Ms. ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS asks for their input about the due date of the assignment, “What’s fair you guys?” They select a date and a few students check in with her about another assignment they have submitted for revisions before a due date coming up. The bell rings and they’re off. I’ll be staying through lunch for Ms.ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS’s World Lit class next period. It is nice to have some time to talk with her about the class and some questions I had.

The big one: “How exactly do students get into this class?”

“Well,” she sighs a little. “It’s supposed to be based on a recommendation, their grades, and if they want to do it. But their guidance counselors sort of just let them sign up. Wait, let me show you something.” She goes over to her desk and starts shuffling through some papers. “I know you can’t rely on just test scores,” she says handing me a class roster with their reading levels, “but the reading levels with this group are all over the place. I've got like, 3 students on level. There’s six or seven kids here that are testing at 7th grade. But you can’t deny them access to the class, so, you know. I mean it’s crazy. Plus I don’t have any textbooks yet. This is the first year we’re offering an AP Lit class and I’m the only one teaching it. I've been trying to get books since June.”

When I leave at the end of the day, I have the familiar bag of mixed feelings when I leave GENERIC URBAN HIGH SCHOOL, encouraged, discouraged. Excited but overwhelmed. Relieved I have more training ahead of me. You’ll be better prepared by the time you get a classroom Conley. Ms. ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS' been doing this for 7 years. And then the multi-faceted debate of urban vs. suburban and middle vs. high school starts playing again in my head.