Students taking apart a computer in a computer science class at High School of Language and Innovation.
Eldan* is in the 10th grade. He’s charming, originally from Montenegro, and a talented soccer player. However, he frequently comes late to school and until we started to address it, he would often cut classes. We have a few Eldans in every grade: not openly resistant or disrespectful, but also not always able to see the point of school.
This year, I realized that rather than being frustrated by such behavior, I could be curious. Does Eldan see the point of school? Are we communicating that school is a “have to because you have to”? Or are we communicating that school is a “get to” that leads to possibilities?
Last year in the 9th grade, Robert* had a rough start. He would argue with directions, wander hallways, and frequently cut classes. We were alarmed to see these habits so early in his high school career and did our best to address his behavior.
However, we didn’t see a major change until July: over the summer, Robert calmed down and got focused. He attended summer school and had a math class with a teacher he admired. In August, he passed the state math exam. He started his 10th-grade year well, arriving on time, participating enthusiastically in classes, and performing well.
Then, the cutting habits started to creep in again. We noticed he’d skip his last class of the day, history. This year, we started a much stronger approach to addressing cutting. We developed a system to stop students in the morning who had cut class the day before. We met with them and helped them re-think how and why they should stay in school all day. Continue reading
A school is a place where people interact. It’s easy to rush ahead and think these interactions don’t matter. After reading about the staff and students in Parkland, Florida, I was reminded of how much of an impact people can make in each other’s lives. I experienced this impact as I supervised a school dance yesterday.
The student government had planned the dance with a “Glow in the Dark” theme and bought hundreds of plastic glow sticks that students could wear like necklaces or bracelets. However, nothing was glowing, and not many kids were dancing. It was still daylight and sunlight was streaming through the large gym windows. My assistant principal gave a pep talk to the demoralized student government so they could get past their disappointment. It worked. Continue reading
“That’s my butterfly!”
Marcus pointed to a butterfly drawing, part of an elaborate book project displayed in the 9th grade hallway.
Marcus is a 9th grader with a semi-permanent frown who had recently been suspended for fighting. He’s originally from Honduras, has lived in New York for two years, and is self-conscious about his English– too self-conscious to notice that his English is far better than most of his classmates.* He gives the impression, “I’m a loner– don’t mess with me.” Continue reading
Usman is an adorable 10th grader originally from Pakistan, smaller than the other kids. He has huge eyes, straight bangs, and a lopsided smile, and whenever he sees me, he waves and says, “Hi Principal!” He also has an older brother, Saad, in 11th grade who now barely attends school, and is inches away from becoming a Code 39.
A “Code 39” is the code schools use for a dropout. Back in the first two years of our school’s existence, I remember when Code 39 wasn’t a part of my vocabulary. Now, we have more Code 39s than we’d like. We’ve started to watch for early signs of Code 39s, as in the case of Usman at our after-school Thanksgiving Potluck. Continue reading
“Oh, miss, I’m in love. I fell in love yesterday,” said Mariana.
“Yesterday was the best day of my life,” added Besa.
The two girls were sauntering to their science class. Mariana is an 11th grader who arrived from Dominican Republic three years ago, while Besa arrived from Albania last September. In speaking about their experience the day before, they transformed from normal teenagers trying to look bored, to human beings inspired about life. Continue reading
“If you elect me, you can bring your cell phones to class.”
With that, the crowd erupted and I witnessed the power of political temptation in our student government elections. David, a quiet student from Guinea, was delivering his speech to be an Eleventh Grade Senator.
Why did David’s promise get such a big reaction? Because the administration collects students’ phones to minimize distraction.*