The opinions expressed are not representative of City Year or AmeriCorps as organizations
And then she threw her arms around me and said: "Miss C., you're my favorite city year." And just like that, nothing else mattered. All the fucking bullshit didn't matter. The chanting, the team-building exercises, the complete and total incompetence of most of the people I work with... None of it mattered. Just for a second, all that mattered was the little girl holding on to me, telling me that I matter. That I have somehow managed to make a difference in her life.
And then he asked me, "Is this right?" And I challenged him. Yes, it was right. He had correctly identified the graph as being positively skewed. Not only that, he'd also written a complete sentence describing the data. I was so fucking proud. It was more than most of his classmates had done, but I knew he could do more. "Alright _, great work! Now I wonder if you'd be able to come up with your own numbers to make a data set that is negatively skewed?" I left him with that question, and walked around the classroom for a bit. Some of the other students were raising their hands, calling me over to check their work. I stopped by their tables, giving out positive feedback and challenging them to keep thinking. I came back to him, and he was ready. "1 6 7 8 9". "That's awesome! Now what other shape can we have?" "You mean something that's not positively or negatively skewed?" "That's right, do you remember what that's called?" "I don't know" "Why don't you look back at your packet and see what it says" "Oh..... Symmetric!" "Exactly! Can you come up with 5 numbers that will make a symmetric box plot?" He looked at me with disdain: "12345."
And then they waved at me from across the cafeteria: "Come sit with us, Miss C."
And then she stood there. Silent, observant. I threw a ball at her. "Let's play Buzz" I said. I explained the rules. We throw the ball back and forth, and count up, starting at 1. We say "Buzz" any time we get to a multiple of 3, or if we reach a number with 3 in it (e.g. 13). "1" "2" "3" - "You forgot to say buzz!" "Oh yeah". "That's alright, let's try that again." "1" "2" "Buzz" "Great! 4" "5" "Buzz"...
And then...
I hate everything about city year. I hate the culture, I hate the incompetence, I hate the fact that we focus on test scores so we can have "data" while losing sight of what actually matters. I hate the fact that we're supposed to be focused on the students but we spend so much time doing shit that no one cares about, like memorizing pledges and shit. I hate that we have to make a certain number of phone calls, even when we don't have anything to say. I hate that there are so many of us, but we still let students fall through the cracks. I hate that we have to have 900 minutes with each student on our focus list, instead of distributing the time according to need. I hate that we don't help students with disabilities, because that wouldn't look good for our data. I hate that we don't help the students at the lowest levels of the class, for the same reason. I hate that we spend so much time planning sessions and fitting them into templates, instead supporting students with whatever their individual needs are. I hate all of it. But I love the students.
I love the way they continue to surprise me. I love the way they try to defy authority. I love the way they try to be sneaky about being on their phones. I love the fact that they notice I've been gone when we have training days. I love the way they want to learn and be challenged. I love the way they don't want to learn, because they have more important things to think about. I love the way they persevere.
I'm in this because these students deserve an adult in their lives who cares and who believes in them. I care. I believe in them. And as shitty as it makes me feel to be in city year, I'd feel shittier if I were to give up on them. And that's really all there is to it.
And then she threw her arms around me and said: "Miss C., you're my favorite city year." And just like that, nothing else mattered. All the fucking bullshit didn't matter. The chanting, the team-building exercises, the complete and total incompetence of most of the people I work with... None of it mattered. Just for a second, all that mattered was the little girl holding on to me, telling me that I matter. That I have somehow managed to make a difference in her life.
And then he asked me, "Is this right?" And I challenged him. Yes, it was right. He had correctly identified the graph as being positively skewed. Not only that, he'd also written a complete sentence describing the data. I was so fucking proud. It was more than most of his classmates had done, but I knew he could do more. "Alright _, great work! Now I wonder if you'd be able to come up with your own numbers to make a data set that is negatively skewed?" I left him with that question, and walked around the classroom for a bit. Some of the other students were raising their hands, calling me over to check their work. I stopped by their tables, giving out positive feedback and challenging them to keep thinking. I came back to him, and he was ready. "1 6 7 8 9". "That's awesome! Now what other shape can we have?" "You mean something that's not positively or negatively skewed?" "That's right, do you remember what that's called?" "I don't know" "Why don't you look back at your packet and see what it says" "Oh..... Symmetric!" "Exactly! Can you come up with 5 numbers that will make a symmetric box plot?" He looked at me with disdain: "12345."
And then they waved at me from across the cafeteria: "Come sit with us, Miss C."
And then she stood there. Silent, observant. I threw a ball at her. "Let's play Buzz" I said. I explained the rules. We throw the ball back and forth, and count up, starting at 1. We say "Buzz" any time we get to a multiple of 3, or if we reach a number with 3 in it (e.g. 13). "1" "2" "3" - "You forgot to say buzz!" "Oh yeah". "That's alright, let's try that again." "1" "2" "Buzz" "Great! 4" "5" "Buzz"...
And then...
I hate everything about city year. I hate the culture, I hate the incompetence, I hate the fact that we focus on test scores so we can have "data" while losing sight of what actually matters. I hate the fact that we're supposed to be focused on the students but we spend so much time doing shit that no one cares about, like memorizing pledges and shit. I hate that we have to make a certain number of phone calls, even when we don't have anything to say. I hate that there are so many of us, but we still let students fall through the cracks. I hate that we have to have 900 minutes with each student on our focus list, instead of distributing the time according to need. I hate that we don't help students with disabilities, because that wouldn't look good for our data. I hate that we don't help the students at the lowest levels of the class, for the same reason. I hate that we spend so much time planning sessions and fitting them into templates, instead supporting students with whatever their individual needs are. I hate all of it. But I love the students.
I love the way they continue to surprise me. I love the way they try to defy authority. I love the way they try to be sneaky about being on their phones. I love the fact that they notice I've been gone when we have training days. I love the way they want to learn and be challenged. I love the way they don't want to learn, because they have more important things to think about. I love the way they persevere.
I'm in this because these students deserve an adult in their lives who cares and who believes in them. I care. I believe in them. And as shitty as it makes me feel to be in city year, I'd feel shittier if I were to give up on them. And that's really all there is to it.
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