Going Deeper

Madeline Wilkerson Today was my home visit. It came up sporadically; I was informed of the home visit approximately 30 minutes before we left. Regardless, I was excited to be able to interact with the parents of one of my children. We walked a bit down a street I’d not ventured down many times before,…

Insight

Thoughts from Kat: My water bottle broke. The inner layer of glass parted from the protective exterior, and I was left with two, jagged glass cylinders. I examined the fissure––sharp edges that would too easily slit a lip or a finger—and artfully concluded, Well, shit. I turned to my homeroom teacher and asked, “Is there…

Teaching the Teacher

“Okay, class is done.” No reaction. “Class has ended. The end.” I make a chopping movement with my hands. Still no reaction. I point to the clock. “Class is finished.” Still, 39 faces peer blankly back at me. “Class is over,” I try again. As if by magic, the students collectively murmur out “OH”s. This…

elision

In Ashley Zhou’s words: He’s a quiet boy. Tall, sixteen years old and almost a man among a class of twelve-, thirteen-, fourteen-year-olds who bustle about, vibrating with repressed energy and noise. His mother sighs. He’s been quiet a long time now, she tells me. He didn’t always used to be this way. When he…

A Teacher and Her Ability to Defy Entropy

When I first arrived at Dandelion and met my homeroom teacher, she laughed with delight and gave me a hug. I remember the excitement that I felt when I saw her broad smile, and my worries that I would have difficulties with my teacher slowly began to melt away. However, new worries arose when I…

Goals

[[From the Desk of Jennifer Marlow]] My homeroom teacher is a boss. He’s got the swagger. He’s got the cool, stoic, and collected personality. And he’s also got 37 seventh grade children to maintain. One of the consistent goals of my time here at Dandelion thus far is to get to know my homeroom teacher….

pastiche

In Ashley Zhou’s words: Middle school was subjectively the worst time of my life. Raging hormones, growing pains, and obnoxious boys plagued my daily existence. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that my students are going through the same trials and tribulations. I liked school, but I still remember the agonizing way time seemed to be…

Bridge

On weekdays, the bell sounds off at 12PM for lunch. After picking up food from the teachers’ cafeteria, there are three options: Eat with my students. Most of the time, this is what I do. Like the rest of the school’s students, the 39 kids of 7(4) are scattered in small groups among the basketball…