Tested makes me wanna scream!

Last week I was reading Tested and I just can't help but feel fustrated by everything I read among the pages. It seems like working in a school like that would be so incredibly difficult. The principal, reguardless of the fact that she is a fellow Tina, would drive me insane. Her over-zealous attitude would destroy me. I fully understand that a low income, low test score school like her's would need someone with that kind of pep and upbeat, yet relentless attitude... but seriously?! I would go nuts.

She seems like a principal I used to work with, only like a million times crazier. It's the kind of principal that acts really enthusiastic when parents are in the office, even more so when speaking to teachers about new ciriculum. But at the end of the day, she has yet to step foot in a classroom during her 8+ hour day. Maybe that is just my lack of understanding, but I feel that a principal that zealous about her school would want to spend as much time in the classrooms, seeing first hand what kind of learning experience is happening within the walls of their school. Again, maybe that's totally not what a principal is supposed to do... but it makes sense to me that way.

Another aspect of Tested that really pushed my buttons was the third grade teacher who "used to be nice" and now "feels like a bitch." I'm pretty sure this is just after 4 years of teaching. Do people really get that jaded about teaching in such a short time, or is the school in Tested really just that bad!?! Yikes!

I did take some personal lessons out of that chapter though. I am perpetually a person who moves every couple of years and begins a completly random new chapter of my life. After seeing how distruptive leaving a teaching job can be for the school, I feel like that has to be somehting that I change about my own lifestyle. I think that I have to be patient in choosing my first school/district so that I am happy there for a very long time. I never really thought of switching schools as distruptive behavior, I mean your kids are gone come June anyways, right? But after reading the after affects of a teacher leaving in Tested, I know realise that there is much more to worry about then just the 20-30 young people in your classroom.

I'm a bit worried about our wonderful essay due next week. How to show that I think deeply and carefully?!?! I mean, I feel like it might as well be asking me, "prove that you are innately inteligent." I guess it's not that I don't understand the assignment, we are just supposed to reflect on what being a teacher means in a deeper level than when we started the class. But having more questions then when I started just makes me more confused, not more deep and carefully thought out.

I feel like I have learned how to analyize my classroom more "deeply and carefully" since the beginning of the quarter. And by more, I most likely mean that I never really analyized it before and now I keep relating my work to my school a freakin lot. Mostly, I learn ideas in class and in our readings and I pull examples from my real life experiences in the classroom. Does that mean I am thinking deeply and carefully? I think it just is easier for me to put things in order if I relate them to what's really going on. Theories in books, I believe, don't do any good unless you can relate them to your life in a real, concrete way.

So my question, I suppose, is do I talk about that sorta stuff? Or is that too specific to my little bubble in one classroom, in one preschool, in one city? My general ideas on teacher haven't "changed" in this big, huge collosal way since I started this course... and I don't think that they really should have. We all come into this program with a different thought of what teaching means, and I think that is what makes us so important. If all teachers had the same monentinous idea of what and how and why we teacher, we would never hear stories of awesome teachers who thought outside the box and made miracles happen. But is pin-pointing my huge deep thought process on one classroom missing the mark?

Sorry if I sound overally fustrated. I have completely loved the unique projects we have been pushed to create this quarter. The image project was simple and fun to create, but the time and thought everyone put into was so huge! You could tell by looking at everyone's project that they didn't just Google "teaching" and pick 5 top hits. It was cool that we all took so much pride in our seemingly simple task. The poems speak for themselves. I think everyone discovered a bit about themselves and a lot about their classmates in a fun, but serious way. Even the metaphor was crazy unique-- not nearly as much fun for me, but I just jumped in feet first and ended up with a pretty awesome metaphor. I guess I am just kind of sad to have to write a reflection on a set of reflective blogs.

Aww, the power!

Mary Anne Raywid's article, A Teacher's Awesome Power, is both immensely inspirational and also a bit frightening. She sheds light on the many ways in which teachers are powerful, despite the legal and professional hiearchy of control over the classroom. It is very refreshing to hear someone speak positively on the power of teachers, especially after enduring an entire quarter of hearing about the lack thereof.

I guess Raywid's insight is not so much a surprise, but more of a breath of fresh air-- a kind of realization of "good, other people do feel the same way as I do." I believe that teachers do maintain conciderable power within the classroom. Yes, there are a million other head-haunchos limiting what is allowed to enter the classroom-- but once it enters the classroom, the teacher is given a lot of room to exercise his/her own powers. I'm not sure "power" is always the appropriate word choice, it's not like teachers are really the power-hungry individuals among our society. But, for lack of a better word, I will continue with Raywid's word choice.

I like that she highlighted the basic power structure within the classroom. From the way the class is expected to act (neat and orderally vs. collaborative and friendly) to the control of conversation (what is discussed and what is rewarded as good responses), the teacher does have incredible power in the classroom. Put on top of that the adult to child power ratio already in place in our society, and the teacher is seen as almost a god among most students. What the teacher values can and often is taken as truths in the "real world" among many students. Casual bias peeping through class discussion may be taken as gospel to student who adore their teacher.

Now, all this can seem very exciting. I mean, who doesn't want to feel like they have the most important and impressionable career on the face of the planet?! But, it keeps me thinking, "Goodness, I hope we allowing good people to be teachers." And then I look at myself-- I concider myself a good person. Am I capable of maintaining this much power? I am very bias on many issues, and I am cautious of this when teaching. But, am I concious of every moment that my bias towards or against a particular issue may cause me to act in a certain way? If a student mentions George W. Bush does my teacher-cheery smile slightly fade for a moment? When a student blames a late metro bus for his tardiness, do I excuse him more easily than the student who was late becuase his mom couldn't find her car keys? It is the subtle bias that fear in my own teaching.

This article has definately opened my eyes to the emmense power we as teachers hold, without actually knowing it. I have always understood teachers control classroom dynamics-- how students are seated, how they participate in discussion, whether or not there is disucssion for that matter. I have also understood how teachers control issues discussed in class-- I spent an entire year studying the Holocaust, another with a rigious routine of country reports. But, it is the intense power of subtle bias that made me think. I feel that as human beings we can never be completely seperate from our bias on a broad range of issues, but as teachers this is the one thing we must do. Raywid's writing has reminded me that our power of being a teacher compells us to be even more aware of our bias. I don't particularly think she wants us to always combat the bias in attempts to provide a completely neutral, unemotional education. Yet, I do understand that the awareness of our bias is vital to preventing it from potentially portraying a false truth.

In some cases, I believe it is okay for teachers to state their bias. Issues like saving the whales, buying locally and riding the bus are the sort of issues teachers are expected to promote. If teachers arn't going to shed light on the loss of tribal lands in Africa, how are the youngsters going to ever know of the issue's existance. Again, as a teacher, the other side should always be presented. But, seriously? Not being allowed to say, "I support green living" is like educating robots. It's the way you go about it, aknowledging your bias and presenting all the facts.

You Can't Say, "You Can't Play"

"You Can't Say, 'You Can't Play'" is such an odd book. Truly, I do not, do not, understand Vivian Paley's style of writing. I love the topic and I love how she portrays herself in the classroom. Paley honestly sounds like a teacher I would have loved to have in second grade. Likewise, reading her story, I am making many mental notes on good teaching methods that I would like to use in my classroom.

But her writing style? Yikes! I mean, I am all for imaginative spelling and not following all the conventional styles of the "right" way to write. But, after a short Googling experiment it looks as if Paley's book is often used in an educational format-- IE, not for personal enrichment or entertainment. If this is her intended audience-- a professional academic audience-- I am very confused on her awkward style. This is not written as a fictional novel where the switch between creative story telling and straight forward narrative is more easily accepted. I am often confused between her two voices separated by nothing more than italics. No transition sentences, nothing-- just a bit of slanted text.

Okay, off my Daily editor soapbox. Content. Content. Content. I LOVE this concept. I had to read the title a few times to "get it," but as soon as I started reading Paley's ideas came to life through the dialog of her students. I work with toddlers, and at two there is little concept of "rejection" in the physical form or any of its euphemisms. Two year olds generally play with themselves and moderately include those who are within closest proximity. Yet I do see the beginning development of rejection. It's not like the 4-6 year olds who thrive on being asked, "Do you want to be my friend at recess today?" But you can see the little boy-- the one who has a hard time separating from mom in the mornings-- more often sitting in his own world, playing all by himself. In my class of 16, there are three boys in particular that I would claim are left to play alone more often than not. So I related Paley's kids to my class under this lens.

The first section of Paley's book is titled "The Habit of Rejection." I read it aloud trying to grasp the understanding. My mother, sitting on the couch next to me said, "Hmmm, interesting. Habit? Like the classroom creates rejection habitually..." I racked my brain, recalling my own schooling. There were times when I was left out of play groups in the classroom. Was that because of some structural, habitual reason within the classroom setting itself? Then I thought of my kids.

There are three teachers in my classroom. We have favorites. It happens. But we hide it, right? As Paley says, "We [teachers] all fawned over the popular children and were impatient with the unchosen." Which comes first? Do our "favorites" become popular among the students who respect their teacher's opinions, or do we as teachers find ourselves swayed by the same character traits that make a child popular among his or her peers? In my classroom, it is the full time, 8am to 5pm kids that capture our hearts. We spend more time with them then mom and dad get to-- we have seen them grow the most. Plus, they are most familiar with the school schedule-- they have grown up with it-- that makes them easier to work with. In my classroom, I think that it is the teachers who have made these kids "popular" among their peers. The "left out" boys are part time, less than 20 hours a week. Are their peers less likely to include them in play because they are less familiar? Or is it because the teachers do not treat them with subconscious favoritism?

I am going to take the blame on this one. Teachers are at fault. So teachers should step in to "fix" this problem, yes? I constantly tell my kids to "play together" when conflicts arise. And, as two year olds do, they are often happy to comply with my request. But what if its not so easy? Last week one of my secret favorites, "Danny" came up and gave the most adorable hug to another boy. I said, "I love it when my friends give such nice hugs!" A quieter, part-time boy named "Luke" leaned in for his hug from the Danny. Both boys were now looking at me, each confused. I said the typical teacher thing, "Danny, can you give Luke a nice hug too!" And Danny gives me a toddler head shake insinuating a "no." A sudden sadness came across Luke's face. Luckily another friend who had gained interest in our activities quickly stepped in and accidentally saved the day by giving Luke a hug. But talk about a sticky situation!!! You cannot force a student to hug another student and likewise you cannot force a student to play with another student. As a teacher you can, and should, highly suggest fair and inclusive playing. But what if the student does not want to buy in? In order to uphold the "rule" of "you can't say you can't play" it must be followed by all students. Distraction or redirection of the left out student does not solve the problem. Likewise, the rejecting student is not learning the lesson. How do you enforce personal policing of the rule?

I am interested to see how Paley's story unfolds. She seems like such a lovely teacher who cares about her students in such an insightful way. She draws on her own experiences in a useful way and battles her personal beliefs with her professional beliefs in a way that truly validates her writing. I know it's not the kind of book that will have a neat and tidy answer at the end, but I am very excited to see what Paley concludes.

Health builds strong community

My classroom has now reached an epidemic level of flu cases over the past week. It's to the point that each day includes sending at least one child home early, followed by me spraying down the entire classroom with bleach at the end of the day. It's brutal.


But, this epidemic has also brought a solid halt to our educational routine. Granite, I work with two year olds-- we don't have a staunch educational program and we definately are not preparing for the WASL. Yet, we have our circle time at 9 am every day. We read the book of the week (which is nearly memorized come Friday), go through our flashcards (animals+sounds, foods, simple Spanish), and do a simple group activity that requires a bit of physicial movement. As of late, circle time is a no-go. When you have two kids crying because their guts are rumbling, one with diahrea and another who's temperature just read 103 degrees, circle time seems kind of fluffy. Physical child care, caring for the health of the child, is a much more immediate need.


So the books are pushed aside. By the afternoon art project, we are down to half our class size as parents come for their ill children. How can you justify hanging art on the wall that only represents 1/2 your students? By the end of the day, I don't even have enough students left to be concidered "school"-- it's more like personal tutoring at that point.


Up until tonight, I've just seen this epedemic as annoying in my efforts to conduct a proper classroom atmosphere. After reading Sapon-Shevin's "Building a Safe Community for Learning" I have realized what is really happening in my classroom. My classroom community is being upheaved. I have one little boy who has been out with the flu for an entire week now. The first few days the other kids would ask, "Tina, where's Lockie at today?" After the weekend passed, nobody bothered to ask about Lockie. It's not that they have forgotten who he is, but as far as their two-year-old mind is concerned he is out of sight and out of mind. Last Friday, one of my little girls, Soledad, was physically frightened after a fellow classmate vomited all over the classroom. The sick girl was then ostricized for the remainder of the day.


The flu has literally been destroying my classroom community, and at this age the learning community is far more important then the physical schooling that happens inbetween all the socialization and exploration. Now, there are many benifits to working with upper-middle class, white two-year-olds. One of which is that this distruction of community will soon be mended. This flu epidemic will pass, most likely never to return until next year's flu season. Within a week or so, my kids will be back in full blast. Their age attention span will allow us to pick up almost exactly where we left off. The little girl who was otricised for puking will be welcomed with hugs the morning. Things will fall back into order and community will be restored.


But, let's say this wasn't a well off community of white toddlers. Let's say perhaps they are your typical inner city middle school, jam packed with poverty stricken students and enough minority students to qualify as a UN embassy. Yikes! Just imagine, all the issues and factors that go into building a strong learning community.


In a school population where many students fall at or below the poverty line, health can become a very burdening truth. Children of poor families are more susceptible to catching colds and other illnesses common among school children. But unlike the more well-off families, a flu season impacts poor families in many more uncomfortable ways. Single-parent households or dual income households may not be able to take a day off from work to stay home with a sick child. Perhaps an older sibling is asked to take care of younger brother or sister, taking yet another child out of school. Or perhaps, there are no other options and the child must attend school—even if it means staying in the nurse’s office all day.


Any one of us who has tried to work a full day with even a slightly meddling cold has first hand experience of the miserable feeling that stays with you throughout the day. Now, translate that same miserable feeling to a seven year old trying to get through a day at school. She cannot even fully express what she is feeling or understand why. Does this miserable feeling make a connection in young person’s mind to school itself being miserable?


To make matters far worse, many families in our country do not have proper health care. This is no longer just a problem for the poor inner city schools—families across all but the top economic, cultural and geographical lines are lacking proper health care. Middle class white families in the suburb and poverty stricken, unpapered immigrants in the country or inner city all suffer from lack of health care. This translates to education in a very direct way. When a child is suffering from even a something as simple as a tooth ache, their family cannot afford to take them to a doctor. Keep in mind a doctor’s visit must also include an available family member taking the day off work to accompany the sick child.


It is so intense to think that a teacher trying to build a safe and enjoyable learning enviornment has work around such a huge national health care problem. I have worked with the difficulties of teaching through the flu season, and it is rough-- but temporary. It takes entirely dedicated individuals to be able to battle health issues in the classroom all year round. Ill children are unable to enjoy school in the manner as healthy children. Likewise, children forced to stay out of the classroom due to illness are further alienated from their educational community.


Aww, the joys of figuring out how to create the perfect learning community amist the horrors of reality.

When I decided to "become a teacher"

I feel like the decision to "become a teacher" should be this big fight against society's values. Then I look at my decision to go into teaching, and it fails in comparison to the epic internal battles and huge convincing arguments with family and loved ones that I hear others speak of. My journey has not been quite as thrilling.

In fact, I went through undergrad with a million and one different careers that I was interested in. Every week I would come to a brilliant discovery of a new career that was just SO perfect. I'd throw myself into it heart and soul until the next brilliant discovery occurred. Come spring of my last year, I decided money was nice but I needed just enough to maintain my student lifestyle, something fun, not corporate or boring. Somehow, that brought me back to teaching-- a career I had long been interested in and often told I'd be good at. I know, I know... it's not easy by any means and I will have to work my butt off to be a good teacher. And, I still hold on to the idealistic thought of summer vacation. I am determined to put in an 85 hr week in June to have one month off. It will happen.

But the epic fights to convince my family that teaching was in fact a career never happened. My family, loved ones, college classmates and even high school dropout friends all knew I would be a teacher before I had even realized it myself (it was kind of like one of those "coming out of the closet" announcements that is wayy too obvious to be shocking). I'm not going to say that everyone is fully supporting me-- most of my friends could care less what I was doing, as long as I was happy doing it. My parents are thrilled that I am off my "I want to be a flight attendant" kick and that I will have a respectable career. I feel like the decision to "become a teacher" was so much more intense for others. Did I do something wrong?

Okay, now on to the readings.
The Delpit article really stuck out in my mind. She is one of those writers that I simply cannot agree with on many points, yet completely agree with on other points. I fundamentaly dislike the way Delpit finds a way to explain everything as a race issue. On a personal level, I believe that people try to "pull the race card" more often then appropriate. When Delpit is telling the story of the 3 year old black boy with "a little crush on a white girl" I would not see the pre-school teacher's comment about lust in any way realtional to race. It may very well be an inadequate description for a 3 year old, but does the fact that he is black really have anything to do with it? Her assumptions of a "black college professor as just a maid in an exlusive high rise" is also a stretch. I think class in this case would play an obvious role in any preliminary judgement. Not to mention when I first read "black college professor" I immediately thought "male college professor"-- the maid comment threw me off enough to require a re-read.

On the other hand, Delpit's discussion of child story-telling was incredibly fascinating. It is so interesting that children from different cultural backgrounds would have such different story-telling styles-- and even more interesting that the perticular style is favored by like cultures even when narrated by one person, without dilect.

And on a completly different note, isn't entirely ironic that the young Irish American teacher treated her new black student as so alien? Is she blind to her own history? Maybe it's idealistic of me, but it seems she would have more power and intent to give those students from "the projects" the best shot at education that she could offer.


Reply to last week's blog:
"Religious differences" in Northern Ireland is very much a psuedoname for race/class struggle. The tricky part is that both races are white and neither class is entirely dominant.

In simpliest terms possible, and I mean super lamen terms: Ireland was a land of Celtic/Catholic villages, farmers for the most part (ie your stereotypical Ireland). The British Crown converted to Protestantism and sent colonies of "proper Protestants" to Ireland to "teach them how to be more British" (ie less barbaric).

So, Catholics = Native Americans,
Protestants = John Smith.

Eventually the two grew into equal size populations, but the Protestants being more proper British citizens had political power. Thus the power struggle.

That's the history, ironically the history everyone in Northern Ireland is trying to forget. Education is tricky becuase the history itself is SO entirely different depending on the culture you hear it from. Catholics have a different truth than Protestants. It's hard for a teacher, obviously trained in one of these cultures of divided schooling (almost all teaching schools are Protestant), to be able to teach without bias. That is, if they can even decide on an unbias history. The general response is to not teach the history. It's just too complicated.

How fustrating is that?!

Tech and school closures;(also) Response to integrated schooling

So last week in class we were asked to “think of how technology has influenced the inauguration”--- it was a very interesting, yet quite simple question. We live in a city that is so obsessed with technology that you almost have to be a hermit to be able to avoid using any of it. I began my observations of the inauguration and it put me in the mindset of noticing how technology has changed many things in education as well. I attended the Seattle School Board meeting the next day and began a new set of observations.

The 15/16 year old boy sitting slightly in front of me was blogging his personal perception of the meeting in nearly real time. As community organizers made compelling speeches in favor of “saving our schools” digital cameras clicked – err, beeped—and flashed. Then I noticed the entire slew of professional cameras throughout the room. I thought it might be local news stations actually reporting on something worth while and relevant to Seattleites. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Of course, school board meetings are entirely too boring for network TV. So who were these cameramen? Digital streaming of the meeting in its entirety was available online! How awesome is that? After checking it out, the streaming video was lacking the emotional appeal that Seattle school board meetings are known for. But, it is a tremendously useful tool for parents and community members who may be too busy to attend the meeting, or perhaps lack viable transportation to get to the meetings. When the Superintendent began showing a very involved PowerPoint presentation, I was assured by the lady sitting next to me that it would be online in a day or two. My notes suddenly went from furious scribbles to thought provoking questions and key themes. How enjoyable!

Back home I continued my observations from the computer chair. I figured there were blogs on the subject. I mean, it’s Seattle—everyone has a blog. But I had no idea that there would be SO many blogs, and nonetheless so many well done blogs. I recognized many of the blog authors from the speaker list at the meeting, which helped put a face to the writing and validate their opinions, knowing that they were actively fighting the closures (no action-less blabby bloggers here!). Further Googling led me to discover many school closure Seattle PI articles available online. One article described how school supporters were using the internet to stay connected and focused during the fear of closure. Open forums are available for all schools on “the list”. Flickr accounts document the closure protests held throughout the city and student activist groups have MySpace and/or Facebook accounts to keep school friends aware of closure and protest updates.

It was fascinating to see just how well technology is being used to fight the school closures. I also noticed that who was using the technology was varied. Young people, needless to say, find the internet an obvious forum for discussion. Yet the school closure debate involves many older participants. Parents and community members ranging broadly in age all seem to be dipping into the World Wide Web to research, discuss and fight the closures. In fact, letters to the school board and other district and city officials are almost entirely encouraged via email. No more snail mail, and no more cute crayon letters from 3rd grade classrooms. Young and old are using email to communicate directly with the school board. Likewise, rich and old are using technology. NPR newly reported that recent times of economic decline show an increase in library usage—namely free internet access in public libraries. Similar results could be concluded about school libraries and computer labs. Economically privileged students and parents still have access to technology regardless if they own a PC or not. The poorer community has also successfully targeted the media, which is then made available online for all. One teacher purchased a website domain for his school’s petition site for a mere $10—blogs and online photo storage are free. Technology (if equal access is available) may be one of the few resources that are able to help close the achievement gap between rich and poor communities.

Examples of technology being used to fight/inform about school closures:

Streaming of the SB meeting - http://www.seattlechannel.org/videos/video.asp?ID=4272
Seattle PI article on the role of online forums in the school closure debate: http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/394886_schools06.html
Summit School list: http://www.summitparentgroup.org/web/
Superintendent's Update (powerpoint used at SB meeting): http://www.seattleschools.org/area/board/08-09agendas/012109agenda/superintendentpresentation.pdf
SLOG (one of many Stranger forums on school closures): http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2009/01/25/the_seattle_schools_going_o
Flickr school closure protest photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ctanstfl/sets/72157613004844942/


Responses to Comments:


Jane asked if my two sub-groups of friends (the “punks” and the “college preps”) knew of one another. This is a question that instantly brought a smile to my face, mostly because I have been dealing with this situation my whole life. My best friend in high school – a sweet and gorgeous college bond girl—told her mom upon introducing us that “Tina comes from Gig Harbor (read: upper middle class), but she likes to hang out with poor people.” She was awesome, she loved all my friends… yet she still thought it was “novel” or something that I hung out with what she referred to as “poor kids.” The view from the other pasture was much less romanticized. I was scoffed at for having “rich friends” who “bought into the system”. A few of them were “alright” in the eyes of my punk friends, but not quite accepted as I had been. I never really saw it as an economic issue, but more of a way of life difference in choice. Ironically, many of them want the very same results. Almost all my friends are liberal to varying degrees. They want free health care, money for our schools, etc. Yet some of my friends prefer gorilla warfare tactics over getting a political science degree. They have the same goals, but their means to an end are so significantly different it is indeed difficult for the two types of people to see eye to eye.

However, I personally believe that properly executed education could seriously reverse this trend. My boyfriend is the first generation of Northern Irish who have been educated in acceptance between the Protestant and Catholic communities. Traditionally, education has always been separate in NI. Crazy and unreasonable stereotypes of “the other” form during these years at school, and without knowing the other the stereotypes take hold as truths. My boyfriend was sent to one of the first mixed schools. His mother sent him on an international trip to Boston with 15 Protestants and 15 Catholics from his community. 8 or so years later, you can meet up with my boyfriend (raised Protestant) and his buddies at the local pub in the Catholic side of town and not know the religion of anyone sitting at the table. It’s a true success story. Although no where near perfect (tensions in strongly segregated neighborhoods have not eased since the bombing began) those introduced to integrated schooling have become socially and politically much more accepting of “the other” simple because there is no longer an “other” in their eyes.

Our local version of the story would be economic integration. Both sides hate each other simply because in our world we do not have much contact between the extremes. A rich businessman may see a strung out bum as he calls a cab home from downtown, but neither see each other as human. Interesting, isn’t it?

Discovery through photographs

Last week was a nice experience. I loved how we tackled our first reading. Ayers is a fairly easy read and I appreciated that we did not dissect it in an overly academic approach. The way we discussed the reading was comfortable and helpful. It was refreshing to allow people to relate the reading to themselves and allow the classroom conversation to go from there. You can really learn a lot more from the materials when you learn what it meant to each person and allow others to comment on what follows. Classroom conversation can be so incredibly stifled when teachers try to hard to “stick to the material”—when in reality students are learning so much more about the material when they are able to see it through 20 some odd perspectives and the responses to those perspectives.

Working on the image-ing project was fun as well. I learned a lot about myself just in looking back at all my photos. I wanted to choose photos that were my own for several reasons. First, I wanted the project to be personal. I wanted the emotional attachment and personal meaning to show through. Since we were only using images, I wanted the images to be as meaningful to me as possible. Really extravagant or professional quality images found on the internet may be more universally meaningful, but I thought this project would make the most sense to me if it was personally meaningful.

Secondly, as I dove into the project I began to realize that it is the people in my life that most inspire me. My close friends and family have been vital in every step of my education and a few of my closest friends and most immediate family have been incredibly influential in my decision to become a teacher. While I was in school, my parents were with me every step of the way. Whether it was help editing a huge essay, or a quick last minute review for a biology exam, my mom and dad were always right there, ready to help.

However, when it comes to my friends, it is not quite as simple of a story. I’ve always had two sets of friends: there are my the smart, academic and college-bound buddies and then there are my punk rock, blue-collar, just scrapping to get by, down to earth, friends that might as well be family. This duality in my choice of friendships has truly altered my view of education. My college-bound buddies assume they will graduate college, there was never any other viable option in their eyes. They kept me academically competitive and also provided a sturdy and supportive study group and student schedule. We all had midterms and finals time together—time to crack down on studies—but we also had the same weeks off to celebrate the end of midterms and finals. However, my punk rock family was what gave me the edge on all my university colleagues. Among my true friends, I was one of just a few who was able to experience college. They reminded me daily just how lucky I was to be able to get a college education, and they encouraged me to do the best I could and not just “go through the motions” of getting an education. It is my punk rock family that made me appreciate education, and it was this family that made me wish that all kids could have had an educational experience like mine. How was it fair that I attended a nice elementary school that prepared me for a competitive high school, which in turn prepped me and every one of my peers for university? Why did my closest friends not get the same value out of their k-12 education? Why were some of them so easily allowed to drop out before graduation? I know they are intelligent, some are even quite successful despite their lack of education. But why did they have to work so much harder than I did? This was my first step towards wanting to be a teacher. I wanted to show my punk rock family that education is a wonderful thing. I’d like to believe that if they had been in the classrooms I had, with the amazingly thoughtful teachers I had, that they would have been as successful in schooling as I had been.

As my university years came to a close, my mother was very influential in my choice to get my teaching certification. After I officially announced my plans to attend UWB’s education program, my immediate family was ecstatic and my grandparents were so supportive. At this point, I was the first of my grandpa’s grand children and children to pursue further education past college (and only the second to graduate from a 4 year university).

In addition to family and friends I included a photo of the students I worked with in Northern Ireland. I wrote a lot about how inspirational this was to my teaching career in my educational history paper:

"While studying political conflict and identity last spring in Belfast, Northern Ireland, I volunteered at Botanic Primary School. I worked one-on-one with English as a Second Language (ESL) students from Eastern Europe. This was both my second step towards teaching and a giant step in my own personal growth and education. Having worked with the top 2% of the Seattle School District fifth graders, the experience of working with ESL students was truly unique. Battling strong racism towards Eastern European immigrants, these kids
were often pushed aside by their teachers simply because of their ethnic backgrounds. In Northern Ireland discrimination is complicated. Race, ethnicity, hair color, religion, political affiliation and even physical location are all used in a myriad of complex combinations of discrimination and hatred. Irish
Republic Army ex-convicts hate Ulster Defense Force ex-convicts, peaceful protestors from both sides hate all ex-convicts, Catholics will throw stones at Protestants and red hair and freckles is enough to get a good beating in the wrong part of town. Unfortunately one thing is agreed upon; all Northern Irish residents equally hate the Eastern European immigrants. Determined the most racist place in the western world by multiple studies, not even the teachers are above the ridiculous hatred. After studying the discrimination issues and its effects on children in Northern Ireland for two months, my urge to become a teacher was strengthened. The few precious hours I spent with my students at Botanic Primary may not have taught them the English language, but it made them
feel welcomed and loved. Seeing their eyes light up when I asked them about their culture was more fulfilling than the fact that our entire conversation was being spoken in nearly perfect English. My time in Northern Ireland taught me that just one respectful and engaged teacher can inspire many young minds."

The last photo I choose to include was one of my boyfriend. I felt it neccessary to include Jonny for more than just the fact that he fully supports my decision to teach. He, being Northern Irish, introduces me to a whole new world of experiences which continues to inspire me. In addition, his mother is a nursery teacher in Northern Ireland. While visiting Jonny, I was able to work in her school and share teaching experiences from eachothers cultures over dinner. This multi-cultural influence has inspired me to teach to a wider standard, as I collect effective ideas and approaches used in different countries. What's the same? What's different, and why? What is the most effective aspects to each method? And how can I bring the best of both together?