As Bad as They Say?: Three Decades of Teaching in the Bronx

6. Marion—A Rare Gem

6 Marion—A Rare Gem It was the first day of classes in September, the second day after Labor Day. The halls were filled with students, armed with new programs, searching out their new rooms and teachers. I noticed a very sweetlooking young girl peeking into my room. She was nervously clutching her program and checking the room number and teacher’s name on the door. She entered my room tentatively and was almost pushed aside by more aggressive students in pursuit of the best seats in the room. (For some students, that meant the back of the room, the farthest away from the teacher; for others, a very few, they grabbed the seats closest to the teacher’s desk.) Although this class was made up of ninth graders, new to the high school, some entered more self-assured than others. The shy, sweet-looking girl stood out because she had not yet chosen a seat; was she waiting to be told where to sit, or was she waiting to find a seat no one else wanted? I recognized her predicament and waved her to a front row seat near me. She was quietly pretty, with big round dark brown eyes and chocolate brown fluffy hair worn in a soft page-boy style more typical of the 1950s than the 1990s. She was wearing a dark blue flared skirt and a plain white blouse not usual for the first day of high school, where the outfits ranged from tank tops and jeans to jeans and tank tops. She gave me a quick, nervous smile that indicated ‘‘thank you’’ without really moving her lips or uttering a sound. I told each new class in September that I wanted for them exactly what I had wanted for my own two sons when they were in school. I wanted them to be happy and to learn. I also said that I expected them 62 Marion—A Rare Gem 63 to show up every day; half of success in life was just showing up, and if they worked hard, I would guarantee their success in English and reading. Some of my students, Marion being one of them, bought into my philosophy right away. (I could tell by her smile and more relaxed look. Others would need to be convinced—they had the Missouri show-me genes.) Most of my reading students had been labeled failures because of their low junior high school scores; many didn’t even have their junior high school diplomas because of their low scores. Many had been left back for two years and still were unable to reach ninth grade reading and math levels (see Chapter 9, ‘‘Multiple Intelligences: A Digression’’). To me, they weren’t failures. How could fourteen-year-old students think of themselves as failures? The city school system had failed them, by not providing the right intervention, but that’s another story. What mattered most was the ‘‘here and now.’’ They were here, and now I could help them! As she listened to me, Marion looked like she wanted to applaud, but she restrained herself. At the end of that first class, some students lingered to ask me questions, including Marion. In a very low voice, almost a whisper, she asked for directions to the lunchroom, and I sent her along with some other girls who were headed there, too. Marion came to class every day, usually early. She sat down in front, near me, and began to work on her individualized reading assignments. As the weeks passed, she proved herself to be a rare gem. She was highly motivated and bright and eager to improve. She worked at her own pace, mastering slowly but surely most of the skills she lacked. (This was an individualized reading class, based on each student’s clearly diagnosed needs and interests.) Marion never wasted a moment; she worked from bell to bell and would not be distracted by poorly behaved students or false alarms—bells rung either by mistake or by students eager to cause disruptions in the school day. She just continued on. Whatever help I offered, she grabbed. In her introductory writing sample, she revealed that she was an only child, living with her parents and her grandmother. They had come from a Central American republic and spoke little or no English at home. Marion was learning English as a second language, and that helped account for her low reading scores. The harder she worked, the...