As I think of what to write I gaze upon the room. Here we have kids that didn't so much as grab their folders for TSIA2 prep. Sure, not every student is eager to begin work especially during first period, but that wasn't it. Which begs the question, why ? The answer is simply that the vast majority of these kids didn't have the slightest intention of participating. Invisible to most, Mrs. Lindy walked around the room like a ghost as students either stared into their chrome books, their phones, or congregated around Ms. Walker. It quickly became obvious this class was toast. Their teacher did shout out instructions to the kids, but only for the kids to do work for her class as opposed to having them focus on TSIA2. To pour it on more the class was constantly interrupted by the violent rumblings that rivaled volcanic eruptions. A deafening bang would echo through the room as random kids would enter our domain without the courtesy of stopping the door before it slammed. One student that wasn't in the class came in to complain about one of her other teachers. As she told her story to Ms. Walker her voice raised higher and higher as if to compete with the decibel level of the room. A seemingly impossible task with a class room of chatter and the repeated door slams. This easily went on for north of 15 minutes. How could anyone focus in this environment? If it wasn't the sounds disrupting thought it was room itself providing distractions. At one point I noticed a trail of residue on the ceiling. I followed it around the room and then it hit me. The walls of this classroom reminded me of the inside of a dirty microwave. Covered in silly string that hung from the ceiling and covered parts of the walls. A fitting symbol of the lack of respect that started with their own teacher. Through all this negativity clouding the room in darkness one minute glow remained. A tiny ember of hope. What was this light ? I was drawn to it like the great Jay Gatsby himself drawn to the green light at the end of the dock. I slowly approached, in fear of putting it out. Finally, I arrived to witness why we're all here. The innocence of one student buried in the corner with a blank stare at her TSIA2 worksheet. She wanted to learn and needed help. After a few short minutes she picked things up herself.
Hey, I guess this class wasn't so bad after all.
