Thursday, January 25, 2007

First days of the new semester

My particular high school runs on a 4x4 block schedule, in which year-long courses are condensed into one semester via 90-minute blocks - four in one semester, and a different four the next semester. Basically, this means that at semester change, teachers are looking at a completely different school. Today is Day 2 of the new spring semester.

There are a few challenges I am facing in the transition to the new semester, but they are challenges that every art teacher will face on the first days. They are not unique to art, by the way, but are common mostly among process-oriented electives (music, foods, theater, team sports, etc.) because these are considered "non-academic" courses by guidance counselors and administration. Let's put aside the fact that a basic art curriculum will cover all eras of human history through its art, will teach science and physics in the making of art, and will ask students to critically analyze themes, abstract concepts and symbols across time-periods, media and even art forms - the argument for the academic nature of art is very important to me, but one that is inappropriate for this reflection. Regardless, the new semester challenges stem from this point of view that art is non-academic, and therefore a repository for the dispossessed.

Guidance counselors often need to fill holes in a student's schedule. Theoretically, students will see a list of available elective courses, and will choose the course that interests them the most. Very often, this never happens and students are placed somewhere against their will. English-language learners and what NC calls "exceptional children" are very frequently placed in art classes. For this, your average art teacher is a master of differentiation: modeling techniques to non-English speakers, and assisting EC students through modified lessons. This is all part of the job, and honestly what makes me feel like I am actually teaching, instead of guiding or even just talking. These students are placed in art because they are more likely to be successful here than in other "academic" courses, but also because they are keeping them away from all-important EOC (end of course) classes which contribute to the schools achievement numbers. Understandable - a student from Ecuador should learn to speak English before he is tested on poetry. But there are other students who do not fit into the above categories who are placed in art without their consent. These are the students who sigh as they walk in, throw their books down and flop into their seat, immediately putting their hood up and head down.

There is a tension between students who have chosen to be in the class and those who did not. Approximately one-third of the students say they took an art class because they thought it would be fun or interesting, another third admit that it sounded easy, and the final third claim that they are in art because, simply, guidance put them there. This will always be a fact of life to an intro-level art class. The way it manifests is a push and pull between two forces: the force of engagement/curiosity and the force of disengagement/entropy. Today, I did a quick visual scan of the students while giving my brief lecture, and in each class there were mixed results, but tipping towards the first force. About half of the students were actively listening, responding, while the balance looked down at the table. Each class had only one or two students who belonged to the latter group: heads down, no pencil in sight. These students would later plead for a pass to guidance in order to transfer out. I am happy to accommodate this request. In one case, another student in the middle group (easy grade) saw my willingness to write a pass to guidance and asked for one herself. When asked why, she said that she "did this all before in middle school". I coaxed her back in with the promise of new and exciting art, but this served to highlight the importance of catching and engaging those students in the middle so they don't drift into the "dark side".

On the whole, I am happy with my new students - I think I am winning the fight against entropy. Most of my students show either full engagement or mild curiosity, or at least a basic, quiet respect. Only a few actively reject the class, but they're rejecting what they think they know about art, or what they resent about school - not me. I can only name one out-and-out joker, the kind I will probably be calling home about and giving detention to. You can always tell who these students are because you learn their names right away.

After two days, I am encouraged and hopeful, but a little lonely for the last group. My friend and colleague H expressed something similar in her blog, which I will use here because the sentiment fits nicely:

"There was an odd feeling inside me today, an empty-ish feeling. I think it because I am so used to coming into a room full of kids whom I love and know and who love and know me back. I miss my kids! But there was also a lot of excitement—for new chances, for better teaching, for meeting so many new, fresh, and fun students."

Now off to guidance with the rest of you lot!

Monday, January 22, 2007

Interesting Sketchbook Entries, part 2

by B, 10th grade

- In a lesson on Harlem Renaissance, "Draw a picture of what you think is the most important issue today":

Shows a map of South Korea, and a picture of Kim Jong Il and a you-are-here-style arrow pointing to South Korea. A missile is flying through the air to a map of the U.S., and a sign saying "Might be next" points to the United States, and Washington D.C. in particular. D.C., according to this map, is located in northern Montana.

At the bottom of this sketch, is a picture of "Bush's Enemies" with an arrow pointing to the globe, and "Barrack Obamba's [sic] enemies" with an arrow pointing to the word "none".

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Interesting Sketchbook Entries, pt. 1

by A, a native of Mexico who recently relocated to Durham:

- "Where will you be in 20 years?"
Map of US & Mexico, with a drawing of her where Mexico City should be, surrounded by words like "helping people" and a book titled "El Vendedor Mas Grande Del Mundo" (The Greatest Salesman in the World). The drawing of Mexico is relatively accurate, the drawing of the U.S. is a big squiggle.

- "Fill in the blank and use the phrase as a sketchbook title: 'I Am A ___ In This World'"
"I am a human that can't understand the exist in this world"

3rd period, home stretch

Some miscellaneous notes from last week with 3rd period, my most challenging class:

Class began with a disorganized ramble through the sketchbook review, prolonged by the half-dozen late comers. Was to end at 11, then 11:05. Finally, at 11:15, I said we have to move on.

T slept thru the sketchbook review with a hood over her head. I asked T to wake up and take the hood off, to which C thought she found another example of my blatant injustice. "You let (so-and-so) wear her hood all day yesterday, you better NOT be telling her to take her's off, I can't believe you Mr W".

T continued to sleep. When I woke her up and asked her to get started on her work, she blew up at me: "No! I'm not doing it! Go away! Stop talking! Leave me alone! Go!" (Imagine this in a sing-songy high-pitched whine). I imediately called her in my office, and to my surprise she came in right away. I started saying something about how this sketchbook review is the project we are working on, and it's an important part of her grade, and before I could get to the part about the importance of being respectful in her conversations with me, she broke down crying. Dumbstruck, I stammered something about how we all have a bad day now and then, but just did not know what to say (I think I managed a mumbled "Do you want to talk about it?") Did her boyfirend dump her? Did she get a paper-cut? Does her father beat her? Did she just find out she's pregnant? What other horrible calamity might she be afflicted with that I am grossly unequipped to address? I let her sit back down. She slept for the rest of the class.

Tried to get everyone's attention to make announcements about remaining schedule: turn in finished projects, finish unfinished ones (printmaking, research project poster), then start the optional 2-day project, Copper Embossing

The mention of a new project was met with an uproar. Granted, there are only 2 days left, but it is a 2 day project, is optional, and is actually somewhat fun. I heard micellaneous unfavorable grumbles about me, and others said they plan to sleep on the last day. Got many requests for a movie. Got firmly rebuked when I mentioned that this wasn't going to happen.

Rest of the class was actually fine, with all students working on miscelanneous projects and some not working at all (T, S, and M who planned to sleep the last day), but at least being quiet about it. Regardless, the projects they turn in will be just as half-assed as they were yesterday.

Halfway through class and still no work begun by S. Approached her about it, and asked her what she was working on. With headphones on, she replies, "Huh?" I ask her to take the headphones off. I ask her again. She says she didn't get the paper for Copper Embossing (it is right in front of her), and I move it an inch closer. She asks what she is supposed to do. Others around her chuckle at this, because I have just finished giving my instruction. I start again from the very beginning, anyway, talking about the copper and the sculpting tools. She interrupts: "Don't try to play me like I'm stupid!"

Monday, January 8, 2007

I melted Lou Reed's face

Art III/IV, second period:

Halfway through a screen printing project with the advanced students. It is the hand-cut, green-film, stencil kind of screen printing, not the photo-emulsion, Andy Warhol-style, so it's fairly labor intensive. All of the kids are really into this project because they are eager to see the final product, but they're struggling with the fine attention to detail it requires. "Damn, this project requires patience, yo!" says one student about every 30 minutes.

I made my own stencil, based on one Warhol's screen tests of Lou Reed. Fantastic image, and quite nicely rendered, I must say.

Using my stencil as the sample, I gave a demonstration on how to adhere the film to the screen using the requisite noxious chemicals. First pass, didn't stick. Not even close. When I went to peel off the clear plastic backing, the whole stencil came right with it, as if to say "What, I'm supposed to stick to the screen or something?" Second pass with chemicals, no dice. Peeled up again. The kids got restless and wandered away - "Let us know when it's ready, Mr. W". Third pass I really let that sucker have it. Soaked it to the bone, with mind-erasing fumes wafting up, making the classroom air wavy.

Peeled the backing, and realized I had completely melted the film. No hope of saving it. It was vapor. Left a slightly green-tinted empty screen behind.

The kids laughed, but feared for their own project. "I hope that doesn't happen to mine, because that s**t takes a long time to do, brah" (By the way, I don't know the correct spelling of this colloquialism, obviously an evolution of "bro"; I have chosen "brah" but I imagine "bruh" or "bra" would be acceptable as well). I concurred, and said that I wish it hadn't happened to mine, either.

Once kids were ready to do theirs, I tried to think of what was different about this time (failure) with last weeks experiment (success), and the only variable was the rag that I used - I used paper towels last week. So I worked closely with the first students, and had them use paper towels to apply the chemicals. Thankfully, we had total success. I was, of course, very worried that none of the screens would adhere, rendering a week's work worthless, and throwing a 3-day hole in my lesson plan. Fortunately, the ghost of Andy Warhol smiled upon me today.

"Oh right, Cubism!"

The last post came on a Wednesday - a dark, doom-laden Wednesday - but because of the winter break was more like a souped-up Monday. I left that day hoping that things would get better on my return, but fearing that they wouldn't - fearing that I had created a delusional acceptance of a bad, hopeless situation.

I was wrong, of course. Thursday came and went without event. Friday, even better. In fact, my third period charmers were at their most well-behaved, and closest to intrinsically motivated they have ever been. They listened patinetly throughout my announcements, responded with interest to posted due dates, and began work on projects right away. To my delight, students seemed concerned about their due or overdue projects, and took efforts to turn in things that had long been forgotten. I was handed a half-dozen Cubist paintings and a stack of linoleum prints - and I've never been happier to grade things. And to my further delight (and surprise), students who were completely caught up on their projects asked to do another one! A student asked for another linoleum block so he could make another print - a fairly complicated and challenging project. Another student asked for one more canvas panel so he could paint whatever he wanted. Canvas panels ain't cheap, but I wanted to shower him with beautiful, virginal, pristine, expensive canvas panels.

Who are these kids? What did I do differently? Where were they Wednesday?

Is it just that today isn't the first day back from break? Is it that Wednesday was such a nightmare that these other calm days seem heavenly by comparison? Or is it a complete and total crap shoot? I hope that it is something I did, or something I set in place that is finally manifesting itself, though I know it is more likely the crap shoot.

Wednesday, January 3, 2007

"What is Cubism?"

A student walks in the door before the bell and leaves. He will return 10 minutes into class.

At the bell, I welcome everyone back from break and describe the daily bellwork activity: a comic strip-style sketch about how you spent your winter break. I am addressing 50% of the students who are supposed to be there. Of those, 1 is listening.

Students begin to trickle in.

Two perennially late students arrive 5 minutes into class and do not sign the Tardy Log (with which they are quite well acquainted). They ignore my requests to do so. One sits down and immediately puts headphones on, while the other circulates the room in search of batteries.

I describe the bellwork activity again. This time 2 students are listening. One of them is the same student who listened the first time. She is already done with the bellwork and is waiting to start the next activity. Her name is R, and she is my most patient student.

The first student is back now. He has joined the battery-seeking student, named A (who everyone agrees is a bit of a goofball), and is talking about portable video games. He ignores my requests for him to return to his seat. When he eventually does – on his own terms, of course – he will begin playing the video game he was just talking about. He will ignore my requests to put it away. He will wear a hood and sunglasses. He will ignore my requests to take them off. He will sometimes acknowledge my request with a preening, sarcastic “Yes, Massah!” which he does today. He will also occasionally inform me that I am one of his favorite teachers. His name is W. He will follow this script every day.

The students are chattering through the first 15 minutes of class. Some of them have begun the bellwork. Approximately one-third will never touch a pencil.

When I identify a lull in the chatter, I ask for everyone’s attention and describe the expectations for the day. Students should turn in their Cubist paintings first. The Cubist paintings are due on Friday, and it is today Wednesday. Next, students should continue working on the printmaking project. The printmaking project will conclude on Friday. After that, if anyone is finished, students should finish glazing unfinished bust sculptures. Uncharacteristically, students remain quiet throughout most of my two-and-a-half minute address.

I conclude my speech, and I ask if they have any questions. The only questions that are asked are “What is Cubism?” and “What is a bust sculpture?” I remind them that Cubism was the painting project they spent two weeks working on, and that a bust sculpture is the ceramic head that took them three weeks to make. I thank them for their attention, and let them know they can get started, reminding them to start with Cubism, then printmaking, then bust sculpture.

No one gets up.

I try to make a goofy joke, something like, “Gee, don’t everyone get up at once!”

Students continue to chatter or sit idly. R gets up and collects her things, apparently wishing she didn’t have to be the first.

I walk around the room and one by one ask students to get out their work.

They begin to do so. Some grumble.

I will be asked to re-explain the printmaking process to 2 students, who sit side by side. The second one, C, will not listen to me explain it to her friend, T, who is seated right beside her. C will ask all of the same questions asked by T. C will make the same mistakes as T. C will get annoyed with me, and say things like “What you trying to make me do?” and “You better watch your mouth” as I show her how to dispense ink from a tube. She will ask me to get each supply for her – the paper, the brayer, the ink, the cutting tool, the newspaper – and will protest when I remind her that she is capable of getting it herself. She will use each supply incorrectly. She will say that I have it in for her when I try to show her again how to use it. She will say that I am making her mess up on purpose. C is 19 and she has a child.

Someone comes to the door, bearing food – someone I don’t know – and asks to see C. I tell this person that C is in class right now and is busy. She says she has to talk to C for a minute. I tell her that C will be done at 12:16, and can join her then. This girl gets annoyed with me and asks why she can’t see C right now. I ask where she is supposed to be. She says lunch. I tell her to return to lunch, C is in class, and C will be able to join her at 12:16. I close the door as this girl continues to ask to talk to C.

I notice that some students are working, but many are working on each other’s projects. Students who are behind on their work have convinced others to do their work for them. I remind them to do their own work, and I make a goofy joke about having to give this student a grade instead. The students return their work to its rightful owner. One of these owners is J. He is constantly asking other people to do his work for him. He is also constantly asking me to get his supplies for him – a pencil, a piece of paper, his sketchbook, the printmaking supplies – and when I remind him that he is capable he will say “But you’re right there!” I am never right there.
I duck into my office, and when I return one of my students has opened the door to the outside – not the door to the hallway, the door to the outside – and has allowed another student to enter, bearing food. I do not know this student. I tell my student not to open doors for people, and I stop this student to ask him his name and why is going through my room. He tells me his name and said that all the other doors were locked (he is allowed to go through the front door, if he is a senior). I write down this student’s name, send him to the cafeteria, and tell him that I won’t write him up, but he cannot enter the building through my room and disrupt my class again. He is apologetic and nervous. (Later in the day, this student will return to my room and apologize again. This will make me feel like a heel.)

When I return to the classroom, J is sitting on the table watching another girl glaze his bust sculpture for him. I approach him by saying his name, but he ignores me. I say his name 5 more times, each one at a firm but conversational volume level. He continues to ignore me. I say “OK” and walk to my desk, where I keep my CHOICES (in-school suspension referrals). He says “wait, wait, wait” and says he was listening. I call him over to my desk and tell him if he continues to ignore me and not do his work that I will send him and his bust sculpture to CHOICES. He agrees to return to his seat and do his work.

Some students bring up completed work, and I grade a few cubist paintings and a bust sculpture.

I never get to make my rounds. I sometimes make 10 rounds a day, helping students, asking questions of them, answering their questions.

J asks for a bathroom pass at about 30 minutes before the bell. I grant him one. He will not return.

W also asks for a bathroom pass. He has used all of his passes for the semester. He convinces me it is an emergency. I cave, and grant him one. I always cave to W for a reason that I have yet to determine. He does return, though. Perhaps it’s because I am his favorite teacher?

It is the first day back from Christmas break.

This day was a typical day in the life of my third period class, which is perhaps why it seemed so intolerable. I am used to being ignored, whined at, complained to, talked over, ignored a bit more, even made fun of a little. These things are just part of the landscape at my particular high school, and I don’t take any offense at it. It’s just disheartening that it was still there. After recuperating for nearly two weeks, I had recharged my inner battery and found some physical and mental energy to return to this routine. I began to feel better. Better in myself and better about myself. And I think somewhere along the line I got confused, thinking I had something to feel better about.

But this was a particularly bad day, I must remind myself. One almost completely free of any teaching. One completely consumed with the things they told us new teachers we’d really be doing – things like classroom management, and well, classroom management. And that’s fair. After all, it was the first day back from a two week vacation. It becomes troubling, though, when these recurring issues prevent me from doing what I am trying to do: teach them about art. It is hard for me to teach them what I need to teach them. It is impossible for me to teach them what I want to teach them.

And it is becoming clear that several of these students are going to fail my class, and in all of these cases, it is because these students are not turning in their work. It is only irritating to me that they don’t listen to instructions or due dates, but it is dangerous for them. My challenge with this class is to identify what I am doing wrong on my end to engage them, and how I can address the ways they are acting out on their end.

But for now, I will just remind myself: It is the first day back from Christmas break.