Teaching journal 4/15 - 4/19

Losing a student at the zoo

Recap: I’m a teacher in San Diego. I teach English Language Development (ELD, the new term for ESL) to 9-12 grade newcomers to the country. On January 3, I was informed that my position would be eliminated next year. UPDATE: on March 12, I got a layoff notice. This journal is a chronicle of my current experience before it ends. Hope you enjoy. 

Monday, April 15, 2024 

Jesus Christ, I was so sore today. I spent the previous weekend running a Ragnar. It was my second so I’m not going to write about it this time, but you can read about the first one here. 

Tomorrow we’re going on our big field trip to the San Diego zoo, so today I had the students click around on the zoo website and find information about the animals. I made a similar scavenger hunt for our last field trip at the aquarium, but it was way too hard. I kept it simple this time. When it comes to designing worksheets, I’ve gotten a lot better. I’ve learned that a well-made worksheet sort of teaches students how to fill it out, and it’s obvious when you succeed. It’s just like how a book kind of teaches you how to read it within the first 15 or 20 pages.

I have a new student from El Salvador. He seems like a super bright kid, and I just watched him burn through the worksheet while I had to help a few students simply navigate the zoo website. I often wonder how the more studiously-inclined feel in these fundamental classes. Are they insulted? Do they think this is the quality of education in America: just looking at animals? 

And this got me thinking about the whole practicality of teaching animal vocabulary in the first place. Like, when will these kids ever need to know what a tapir is? When is a fucking hippopotamus ever going to come up in conversation?

We also did speaking practice by throwing the ball around and asking each other how we were feeling, and how our weekends were. For some reason, my first period class—which is full of a lot of lower-proficiency and very shy students—turned out to be much better than my third period. Something happens to those kids in third period, man. Like this wild energy takes over them. These are the exact same students that I help out in Mrs. E’s math class, in which they’re very nice and focused. 

But then something happens between Mrs. E’s class and mine, and they just become impossible to settle down. I used to tell this class that they were my favorite, but I don’t anymore. If this behavior keeps up, I’ll tell them that they’re no longer my favorite! That’ll teach them.

Really, though, today was about how sore I was. I groaned a few times while kneeling down to help students, and a few of them asked “Mr. Bradford, are you okay?” 

“Yes, yes,” I said, trying not whimper.

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Field trip day. San Diego Zoo. Swish. 

I’ve written before about the beauty of field trips—how they’re great opportunities to see kids in their elements, and this day was no different. I had an all-star group of students. Nobody was causing trouble. Just kind, considerate humans. 

But I will say that teenagers get tired a lot faster you think they do. I think we’d only been walking around for an hour before they asked to rest, which was fine by me because I was still sore from Ragnar. (PS remember how I did a Ragnar?)

I walked by multiple stands selling $16 beers, and it felt a tad strange not to shell out for one. The zoo is the only place in San Diego that I have no qualms with buying overpriced beer. I don’t know why. I have friends who bring their own beers to the zoo, but I don’t know. Feels like you’re not getting “the full experience”, like bringing a sack lunch to Disneyland. 

(However, the last time I bought a beer at the zoo, the woman who carded me said that I was the same age as her mother, and I immediately inquired if the lion pit was open for me to throw myself into) 

I did order a big $12 churro sundae that I shared with the students. A lot of them were too shy to accept, but expensive soft serve is another confection that just hits differently at the zoo, and nothing was going to stop me from housing down a sundae in front of students too polite to ask. 

As we were climbing up the steep hill of Park Way, I suddenly got it in my head that I should challenge a group of three boys to a race. I don’t know why. Perhaps an opportunity to prove to myself that “I still got it”.

We sprinted, and they kicked my ass, naturally. At one point, I could feel my still-recovering Ragnar legs (did you know I ran a Ragnar?) threatened to give out. 

But I do think that the students appreciated the opportunity to kick my ass. As I was breathing for my life, sweaty and sore, I thought to myself: I am a good teacher.

By the end of the day, my group had joined forces with Mr. P’s and another chaperone’s. We decided to board the Skyfari to whisk us back to the entrance. I was stoked. The Skyfari is my favorite thinking at the zoo. I could spend all day riding in those suspended buckets (if only they let you drink $16 beers in them). 

At the other side, after everyone landed, the other chaperone told us that one student had refused to get on the Skyfari at the last minute because he was scared, and it immediately became an ordeal. The bus was scheduled to pick us up in 30 minutes, and now we had one unmonitored student wandering around by himself. 

Mr. M contacted the student’s parents. I sent a text to all the other teachers and chaperones to keep their eyes out. Then I rode the Skyfari back, to try and find him. I knew this would be a futile effort, trying to find a single student in one of the biggest zoos in the world.

About five minutes after landing on the opposite side of the park, Mr. P called me and said another student got ahold of the lost kid through Instagram. They had located him. With about 15 minutes to spare, I took my time and walked up the Bear Trail by myself. I ended up seeing the sun bears and grizzlies, which was the first time I had ever seen the grizzlies at the zoo. 

Never a boring day.

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Very quiet day today. I think the students were all still exhausted from the zoo. Fine by me because I was exhausted too. According to my pedometer, I got about 20,000 steps yesterday. Jesus Christ.

I made a slow version of the Carly Rae Jepsen song for karaoke practice, and played that for the students. Say what you will about Carly Rae, but “Call Me Maybe” is an absolute banger. 

Once again, I was pretty much the only one singing during first period. I don’t know if you’ve ever been the only person singing, flatly, in front of 12 or 13 English learners—all of whom looking at you with a mix of concern and boredom. If you haven’t, can’t say I recommend it. 

But I did look out and see two or three students mouthing the words, so that made me feel like less of a loser. On the other hand, third period is amazing at whole class karaoke practices. Sometimes it feels like karaoke, practice, and singing is the only way I can reach Dancing Girl. I think I could test most of those students right now at regular speed and they would pass.

We also did a phonics review about “-el” “-al” and “-le” endings. When you’re teaching these things and insisting that they all have the same sound when attached to a consonant, it just makes you realize how ridiculous the language can be. 

Today the three Haitian girls in my third period, including Dancing Girl, were making a concerted effort to behave better. I get the notion that at least one of them is tired of me stopping class to refocus them. They’re tired of being called out. That’s not to say that they’re doing the work. In fact, the most disengaged girl (which I should just go ahead and call Disengaged Girl) spent the whole class tracing a butterfly off her computer screen. Since she wasn’t provoking Dancing Girl—which is often the case—and they were all being relatively chill, I told them good job at the end of class.

There was a big soccer match today. Barcelona versus Man City. Even my best student asked if they could watch the game in class. I hemmed and hawed dramatically and all teacher-like, but truthfully, I was already stretching my lesson plan longer than it needed to be, and was thankful for another activity to fill the period instead of just giving the kids’ phones back. 

I told the students if they finished the Jamboard, they could watch the game.  But then Barcelona scored and the kids just went off. They were so loud that even Dancing Girl told them to shut up. It’s always a little enjoyable to see the most annoying student annoyed.

I know a lot of teachers probably disagree with allowing kids to watch a soccer match in the class. But when even the best student is begging me to watch it, I know that denying them would be a losing battle. I could restrict their phones and turn off their computers, but for what? So I can drill eight more vocabulary words into their brains? No way they’d pay attention. Of course, I wouldn’t let them watch soccer every day (or maybe I will, what are they gonna do, lay me off? Ha ha ha ha ha.)

Also, there’s so much talk about culturally responsive teaching and culturally responsive classroom environments, but I think most teachers have the idea that being culturally responsible just means putting up a bunch of fucking posters in their classrooms. Believe me, I’ve been to enough personal developments that emphasize the posters. Good god, the posters.

But soccer—that’s the culture right there. Nearly every kid from every country is crazy about it. It’s a uniting force among the diverse student population, and it’s so cool to watch them watch it. 

Thursday, April 18, 2024

Really good teaching day today. It was the first time in I-can’t-remember-when that I’ve felt rested. The last two weeks with international travel, family visits, and Ragnar (did I tell you that I ran a Ragnar?) have really worn me down. It’s just been go go go, with a nice layer of stress from the layoff sprinkled on top.

I had two good small reading groups today. As we nearer to the end of school, my reading groups have become a little more informal. Which is not to say that we’re not doing work, but it they’ve kind of become more of an opportunity to just chat with the students and make personal bonds. 

I’m not trying to sound defeatist now, but there is a feeling of...I’m not even sure. Maybe I just feel that with 30 instructional days left, I’d rather just get to know them as people. I feel proud of the amount of rigor I’ve done this year, which I think has been much more demanding than what I did last year. So easing off the gas—at least for the small reading groups—doesn’t feel like a total give-up move. 

I had the students read another news article from the EDGE textbook today. This time, I transferred the pages onto a Google Slide deck and then added interactive comprehension questions with Pear Deck. In the past, I’ve been vocal about the importance of print media, but I think this may now be my preferred text delivery method. I’m also getting better at controlling action with an iPad, which allows me to circulate around the room and keep students focused. Super nerdy shit, I know, but when you get tech to actually work, it’s one of life’s little victories. 

PS: Did you see those clips of Grimes performing at the Coachella? Her set was marred by technical difficulties, but I could only feel sympathy. It reminded me of every time I tried to introduce new technology to the classroom. 

During third period, the Haitian students all went to their Haitian student support group. It bugged me how relieved the other students seemed to be—with one girl saying, “muy tranquillo, Mr. Bradford.” Last time the Haitian students were gone, I tried explaining to the other students how difficult it is in Haiti right now, in terms of violence and political upheaval, and that it’d benefit us all to just be a little more patient. But teens don’t see that, or they don’t want to. It seems that whatever I say, there will be an us vs. them mentality, and there’s a high potential that the other students will form biases against an entire culture based solely on the actions of three of their peers.  

Also, the newish Vietnamese girl keeps motioning to my belly for reasons I don’t know. I think she’s making fat jokes. Ten years ago, I’d be more sensitive to that, but fuck it, I’m nearly 40. Who do I have to impress? So, I play into it, and tell her that I’m pregnant, which she seems to think is funny. 

Thinking to myself with a single tear rolling down my cheek: I am a good teacher.

Friday, April 19, 2024

As I was trying to start third period today, Dancing Girl had a freakout and either threw or spilled water all over the floor around her. There was a commotion about who’s fault it was, and I just had no patience to solve this conflict, so I put a stopwatch on the screen, started it, and sat down. A few kids were like, “What is that Mr. Bradford?” and I said it was just to time how long it took Dancing Girl to clean up her mess, for everyone to settle down, for everyone to be respectful. 

It took about two minutes before Dancing Girls realized that everyone was silently watching her. And in that time, one of her friends moved tables, embarrassed, I think, to be associated with the constant disruptions. When everyone was quiet, I didn’t do my usual “I’m so glad you’re all here!” talk-show host routine. I was just like, “Get your computers out and do IXL for 20 minutes,” and everybody worked silently. Thank god for IXL. It’s such a perfect tool to give to the students when I need some time to recenter, refocus, bounce back.

Since our current unit in the book is all about survival, I thought it’d be a cool little project to have the kids make their own poster/infographic about how to survive in the _______ apocalypse. I taught them the word “apocalypse”—which has a pretty similar cognate in most languages—and then showed a bunch of posters from apocalyptic movies and TV shows. The students caught on almost immediately. 

I gave them a sheet with sentence frames to fill out. I asked them first to identify their apocalypse (I had them choose between zombie, robot, climate change, asteroid, infectious disease, and natural disaster). The students then thought about the three objects you’d need to survive, what food you’d eat, where you’d find shelter, and what the most important survival skill. 

Mr. Bradford’s model

Most students picked zombie apocalypse, which was cool to see, because my model was robot apocalypse, and students are very apt to just copy the teacher model. Some kids didn’t do any work, but whatever. The excitement most students have about the project was very encouraging. 

Finally, one of my best students was like, “Mr. Bradford, I think I need to go home” and I was like, “why?” He took his hand out of his pocket, and his middle finger was swollen as all hell, almost black. It looked broken, and the face I made when I saw it was probably not the most reassuring. Probably a soccer injury, I imagined.

“Yeah, you need to go home,” I said. I texted his mom over the weekend, and she told me he had a fracture in his wrist and middle finger. 

Never a boring day.