When I returned from Jamaica, I got up first thing Friday morning to teach some workshops down in Bensonhurst. I'd been out to the school before and although two of the three classes I was working in were delightful and inquisitive young people, the third had been really difficult. The kids weren't listening to anything I said, preferring to tease and joke with each other or fall asleep at their desks, and the teacher had been unwilling to participate beyond sitting at her desk to grade papers and occasionally looking up to scream at the kids. I actually had spitwads thrown at me. So I had done the usual things- I had called my supervisor to let her know that it wasn't going well, I emailed the teacher and let her know how important it was to participate in the workshop with the kids, I revised my lesson plan to be more active and engaging, and then I went on vacation.

When I got to the school this last week I was feeling much more confident than when I left. But I knew that things wouldn't go well when the teacher rushed in a couple minutes late, started yelling at kids and handing out papers without talking to me and then denied getting an email from me and said "they're all yours- good luck" without looking at me while the kids were yelling, fighting, and sleeping behind us.

And I tried. I really did. I tried everything. I tried every trick I know but the kids weren't having any of it- in fact they outwardly just made fun of me. I tried to get the teacher to join in and she refused in front of the kids and I couldn't even get everyone to stand up- if I got one person to stand up they would immediately collapse back into their chairs when I tried to get the next person to stand up. The teacher would occasionally shrug and tell me "you can kick them out if you want" but that seemed to be an empty threat because even when she would perk up and start screaming at the kids that they were going to be suspended and sent home, nothing actually happened. We managed to get through the first three minutes of my lesson plan in 40 minutes but the kids kept telling me "this is wack" "this is stupid" "miss, we don't want to do this" and I finally lost it and said "we're done."

At this point I did something I have never done before- I lectured the kids. Seriously. Can you see it? It was a little ridiculous. But I had to tell them that even though they may feel incredibly oppressed by the things they are forced to do in school, and complaining about everything and not participating seems like a good idea, they are only a couple years away from adulthood and if they think that things are wack and stupid they need to take responsibility for making it better rather than giving up completely. How could they possibly know that the workshop was wack when we never even got started with it? I told the teacher that the kids were too disrespectful to see the performance the next week- honestly I don't even think it would be safe for the actor to perform in front of them (she's delicate)- and she shrugged and said "I agree. But what can I do? They're terrible. You go talk to the administrators. They're across the hall. I can't do anything."

So then I left and cried a little bit and called my supervisor and told her I couldn't go back to that class because the minimum base requirements for a workshop weren't in place and she talked me down and said that next week she would either have an assistant principal sit in the class or she would come and co-teach with me. Which sounds a little better than just giving up outright, I guess.

The thing is, it's four days later and this class is really sticking with me. I had other classes that day that went really, really well, but I can't think about anything else other than these boys staring at me and telling me outright that they refuse to do anything and the teacher just shrugging and occasionally screaming. I can't let go of it. It's just one workshop, but it is really making me question my ability to teach, despite dozens and dozens of examples to the contrary. I feel so weak and defeated by these kids. I really don't want to go back there, but I also don't want to end the school year like this.

It's really made me start thinking about what these minimum base requirements for a workshop are. The kids have to be listening at least a little bit, don't they? Even if they don't want to do anything, they have to at least not be talking to someone else when I am talking directly to them, right? They can't be asleep. I don't know what I can do if I can't even be heard.

Blech.