Speak Acholi? No? Then You Need An Interpreter
When I entered the classroom to interpret for the middle school parent and teacher conference, the student shouted that I wasn’t necessary. The teacher had called for my services because for two semesters she had been telling the mother that her son was flunking. And for two semesters, the mother had grinned ecstatically and said, “Thank you”—her only English words. The son had “interpreted” to his mother that he was on the honor roll.
How Do You Bring Islam Into the Classroom?
In recent weeks, our country has been treated to an ugly reflection of itself. The controversy over the Islamic community center in New York City has been followed by a spate of anti-Muslim acts. They include the stabbing of a Muslim cabbie, attempted arson at a mosque in Tennessee and teens harassing Muslims at worship in upstate New York.
To See My Students As Grains of Sand
Every school year, my incoming students receive a welcome letter. Included in their packet is something a little different: a snack-sized baggie of sand. One student may receive some black volcanic sand from Japan; another gets green sand from Hawaii; still another receives the silky sand from Florida’s west coast; while another may get the pink sand found on Bermuda’s pristine beaches.
Welcome Back to School!
The beginning of the school year is such an exciting time—meeting new students, reuniting with former ones, working with trusted colleagues. It’s a time for discovering new possibilities and opportunities.
It’s also a time to remind students and staff that classrooms and schools are communities, built on relationships. As you start this school year, consider some of these community-building activities.
Why I Teach: Catching Kids Before They Sink
I used to be a bad girl. I was self-destructive, angry and fearless. These traits, coupled with a decent amount of intelligence, took me to all the places bad girls go. For many years, I bounced from bad decisions to bad jobs to bad relationships. My life was a mess for a long time, and all I knew how to do was make it worse. I couldn’t talk to my mother, my father wasn’t around, and my friends were either victims of their own circumstances or they were busy creating better lives for themselves. I was alone for a long time, and it felt like I would drown forever.
