Today I reminisced about my days in Algebra II. No, not
teaching Algebra II, taking Algebra
II. As a math teacher, I think
it’s funny to see the looks on my students’ faces when I tell them I hated
Algebra II in high school. I did! Couldn’t stand to be in the class. I use to get an awful feeling in the
pit of my stomach, an overwhelming dread, at the end third period because I
knew what was next… Advanced Algebra II.
It wasn’t the content that I dreaded- it was the atmosphere.
The math wing had been my favorite place for class. It was down a side hallway, so it was generally quite, and
math was the subject that came easily to me. Those happy feelings quickly changed when I started
Algebra II. My teacher was
incredibly smart and he knew the material inside and out, however, he lacked
the compassion to teach. He easily
became exasperated when we didn’t understand and it was clear that we never asked
scholarly questions, only ridiculous ones. The tone he used with the class was condescending, and almost
every day I walked out of his room feeling like an idiot.
I have reasons for just about everything I do in my
classroom:
My high school Calculus teacher is the reason we have 12 days of
bonus questions right before Christmas break and a huge celebration on Pi
Day. My history teacher inspired
me to use historical dates for bonus questions and collect money for a good
cause. I credit my dry humor and
overly enthusiastic attitude about my subject to my choir professor in
college.
So many people have influenced my life!
Every moment in my classroom reflects my relationship with a
teacher and the lifelong lessons he or she taught me. On the negative side of relationships, my Algebra II teacher
taught me the importance of flexibility and spontaneity. By refusing to upset his scheduled
lesson, or slowing down to reevaluate a concept, he taught me exactly what NOT
to do.
So today, when my Algebra II students came in to my class
with blank homework assignments and the utter look of defeat, I improvised.
We scratched the review that was planned for the day, and I
re-taught the lesson from yesterday.
We went around the room and everyone helped me finish a problem on the
board. By the end of class, my
students were not necessarily jumping for joy, but they weren’t looking sad and
crushed either. I may not have
passed on my enthusiasm for solving 3-variable equations, but I gave them a
second chance to learn something they didn’t understand the first time.
While my own Algebra II teacher didn’t offer second chances,
I know that if I found myself sitting in class, with a blank homework
assignment in front of me and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I would
like to be given another chance… and maybe a reminder that a tough lesson is
not the end of the world.
-Kate
“I’ve come to a frightening conclusion that I am the
decisive element in the classroom. It’s my personal approach that creates the
climate. It’s my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess a
tremendous power to make a child’s life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of
torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or heal. In all
situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated
or de-escalated and a child humanized or dehumanized.”
~Haim G. Ginott~
You inspire me
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