I have officially completed my first week teaching middle school at Aurora West College Preparatory Academy. I also technically teach two freshman in high school, too. I am teaching ELD (English Language Development) to 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th graders. I am definitely having more fun than I was the past three years. I think it might be a) switching classes after 65 minutes and b) seeing all of my wonderful kids from Crawford. There have been a few signs that I have come across that have helped me to feel like I am where I am supposed to be. I will share the most impacting (names are not mentioned to protect ids of students :-)
#1 was one of my most challenging kids last year. He was challenging because he is pretty amazing but succumbs well to peer pressure. He wants to be good but would come in the morning and say, "I'm going to be bad today." He is also the kid who will work hard for weeks for the poster sized Cougar ROAR I made for him. So on my first day at West, I was in the auditorium for the 6th grade assembly. As students are sitting quietly, I hear, "MS. MILLEN! MS. MILLEN!" I look across the auditorium and standing up, waving, among everyone else sitting, is #1. Yep, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
#2 has been my most challenging student by far for just about the last three years. I have had many laughs with him but also have shed many tears at his expense. He's not necessarily my most challenging student, but rather my biggest challenge in teaching. I have had to change my teaching style in numerous ways to support #2 in a positive way. People ask me why I would want to have him again in my class, and as much as it would be easy to have a year off, I know that the relationship I have built with him will be so beneficial to a successful start to middle school (and high school) for him. Plus, I do it for my students--all of them. So Thursday after school, I was walking back to my classroom and I saw #2 in the hallway. School had been out for 20 minutes and all that were left were stragglers. #2 was walking confidently back into the school. When I asked where he was going, he said to open his locker that he couldn't open yet. I asked if he wanted help--"Yah." So I watched him open it once. Showed him how to turn it the right way, gave him some pointers and voila! He got it! He tried it a few more times and said to me proudly, "Ms. Millen, I know it now." As we were walking away, he said, "Let me just try it one more time by myself. But can you wait over there just in case I need you?" So I watched, thinking about how far he (we) had (have) come. After he tried it by himself a couple more times, we went in opposite directions. As I turned the corner back to my room, I glanced back and looked at him one more time. At that moment, he turned away from the front door, headed back to his locker with a big smile on his face--dimples and all.
#3 is a student I knew in a much different capacity. When her family moved to the US from Thailand as Karenni refugees two years ago, Meaghan, Adam, Kirsten and I were the family's mentors. For background, here is a part of my Invisible T/EX application that shows what I learned first from #3:
Please discuss an experience that did not have the outcome that you expected or hoped for, and expound on it as a learning opportunity.
Last fall, I and three of my close friends became mentors for a Karenni refugee family from Burma. After setting up their apartment and making sure we were prepared to cook their first meal, we went to pick them up at the airport. I had expected people that I would eventually build a lifelong relationship with after getting to know them and supporting them in their new country. Several things got in the way of this aspiration. The first was cultural barriers. We were never sure how to plan an outing or meeting with the family. Although they did have a cell phone (which we helped them buy), we couldn’t call them because with our language barriers, the messages were always unclear. We felt it was rude to just show up unannounced, but this seemed to be our only way to spend time with them. When we did just show up, we would make a plan with them for the next time we would come over. Sometimes, after planning that we were coming, they wouldn’t be home. We also realized that the family was becoming busy and had less free time. They had begun to build their own support system through other Karenni refugees in the community. We would try to plan something, and our family was unable to attend due to other plans.
Last fall, I and three of my close friends became mentors for a Karenni refugee family from Burma. After setting up their apartment and making sure we were prepared to cook their first meal, we went to pick them up at the airport. I had expected people that I would eventually build a lifelong relationship with after getting to know them and supporting them in their new country. Several things got in the way of this aspiration. The first was cultural barriers. We were never sure how to plan an outing or meeting with the family. Although they did have a cell phone (which we helped them buy), we couldn’t call them because with our language barriers, the messages were always unclear. We felt it was rude to just show up unannounced, but this seemed to be our only way to spend time with them. When we did just show up, we would make a plan with them for the next time we would come over. Sometimes, after planning that we were coming, they wouldn’t be home. We also realized that the family was becoming busy and had less free time. They had begun to build their own support system through other Karenni refugees in the community. We would try to plan something, and our family was unable to attend due to other plans.
What I had hoped to be a rewarding experience became disappointing as communication began to dwindle. We eventually lost touch with the family completely. It got to the point of being so long, that it seemed strange and awkward to do anything about it. These were people that we had all intended to become close with, but we all knew we had failed. I recently saw the father and youngest daughter as he was enrolling her at my school. Despite us, they have acclimated to American society without losing their Karenni heritage. Seeing the two again a year later makes me wish I could start over with them. Looking back, I would have done the whole experience in a different way. I would have been more independent and not so reliant on my friends. I learned that I shouldn’t rely on others to change things. If I want to see change, I need to be the advocate.
So imagine my surprise when I see #3's name on my roster. On the second day of school, I asked her if she remembered me and she shook her head. I told her, "When your family came to the United States, I helped you. I helped you go to school and I went with you to East [Middle School]." Her reply was, "Jessica?" with a smile..."Yes, but now you have to call me Ms. Millen."
So the second thing I learned from #3 is that I never know the impact I make on my students. Even if it feels like I have failed in some way, I will never truly know. When she said my name, I had goose bumps. What seemed like a lack of support to me, had impacted her enough to remember my name.
And these testimonials are why I made the switch. Best. Decision. Ever.
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