Alike Is Not the Same (thanks Ginny)

Have you ever been so excited to teach something that you forget who you are teaching? I know that a passion for what you are teaching is half (?) of being a successful teacher. But what about the other half?

Relationships. Really knowing others. Understanding the specific needs of individuals.

Coming off a high of a successful first period lesson today (Algebra 2 experiment: the kidney, blood, and medicine) I attempted to teach the same lesson again, the following class period, to a class I thought would respond the same. Both classes have 36 students, mostly juniors and seniors; a diverse demographic brings richness to both classes; both have more male students than female; both classes contain students on individual education plans; both classes have more than one English Language Learner with high needs; and both classes are in the morning.

The second class was a disaster and I will just leave it at that. But why? That is what I am trying to figure out. I hope that I gain deeper insight into my students' lives tomorrow night when I spend time with their parents at the beloved back to school night.

Algebra 2 Room N215 and Algebra 2 Room N215 are alike. Now I know they are not the same.

Soomaaliya الصومال Somalia : The Place to Leave?

Last Tuesday was the first day of school of my first year teaching. I was blessed to meet so many new students. It was amazing to get to know students from so many culturally rich backgrounds. Two students in my first class were from Somalia. One student lived in Somalia and then in Paris. All I know about the other student is that he used to live in Somalia and now he lives here in Portland.

These students checked to see if I spoke Somali, and in their disappointment began speaking in French and then Arabic. They showed a physical sign of concern when they saw that the only language I speak is English. One student gave me a look of "how are you going to help me pass this class?"

I wonder how it could be that these two Somali students with all the odds against them could have been the two with the most respect and the biggest smiles on their faces on this first day of school? Where does this distinguished respect and joy come from? What stories do they have to tell about the country plagued with violence that they once called home? What can I learn from these students? How can I ensure that these students learn?