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In their own words
Kwame Griffith

Kwame Griffith graduated from Cornell University in 2002 and majored in Human Development. Kwame is a member of the 2002 Houston corps and taught fifth grade at Isaacs Elementary in Houston.

August 18th, 2003

It is the first day of school, my second year of teaching and I can hardly wait for the morning bell to sound. I am armed with my rules and consequences, diagnostics, team builders, classroom procedures, and high expectations. This is going to be a great year. The bell sounds, my heart races, and after a firm handshake at the door, in strolls Damian Trow. I had heard all about Damian. He had become a living legend and his poor behavior and limited academic achievement had begun to take on mythic proportions. He was commonly described by teachers and staff as talkative, disruptive, rude, and I even heard some people call him unintelligent or slow. What wasn't so commonly shared was the fact that Damian was part of a cohort of students that didn't have a teacher in first, second, and half of third grade, but instead had permanent substitutes. Unfortunately for Damian, he had missed out on the opportunity to master the fundamentals of reading, writing, and math. After two years in fourth grade, and finally being moved on to fifth, Damian was on the verge of calling it quits, feeling like school just wasn't for him; he was slipping through the cracks.

Today, I begin my first round of goal setting activities and one-on-one conferences with my students. When it is Damian's turn to share he proclaims his goal proudly, "To move on to the sixth grade! Go to middle school."

"Well, that is an awesome goal Damian, and it is going to take a lot of hard work. My goal for you this year is that when you leave our class of A+ Achievers, you will be on grade level in reading, writing, and math."

"I can't do that Mr. Griffith, I'm not good at those things. That stuff's too hard."

"You can Damian. Work hard, stay with me, and I promise we will do it together!"

But Damian might have been onto something. Studying Damian's test data from the previous year, I quickly learn that he was entering fifth grade on a third grade level in math, second grade level in reading, and a first grade level in writing... and I promised he would be on grade level? Make up so much lost time and learning in just over nine months. How can I? How will I do this? But, I made him a promise; I can't let him down.

December 15, 2003

It is now four months into the school year and Damian is shocking the world. He is working hard and staying with me. Today is his turn to meet with me to discuss his progress and revisit his goals for the year. He believes he is on track to reach his goals, but is nervous because he isn't used to being good at school. For the first time, Damian is starting to enjoy learning and experience success, and as such has really latched on to me. Damian particularly enjoys when I make a fool out of myself by rapping to help my class remember how to add and subtract decimals, or being the voice of the mean giants during our daily read-alouds of the novel "The BFG." But some things haven't changed; he is still very talkative—constantly debating why he thinks Roald Dahl is the best author ever, or trying to convince everyone to compare and order fractions using the Damian Trow method.

There have been some major setbacks along the way.

When the other fifth grade teacher at my school, retired I was asked to teach both classes by going back and forth between the two classrooms, cutting the already limited amount of time I have with my class in half. This is especially hard for Damian to understand. He tells me that he isn't learning as well and doesn't think it is fair. "You're my teacher and they should go find their own teacher," he protests loudly during our conversation. To make up for some of the lost time, he and I spend almost every afternoon together reviewing problem solving strategies, practicing fluency, revising and editing book reports, and just talking about our lives—his favorite topics are my experiences at Cornell and what I was like when I was his age. More importantly, he is starting to show vast signs of improvement. As I sit back and watch him monitor his comprehension by chanting "stop, look up, what did I just read," or by watching him systematically and successfully attack a rather difficult math problem that requires using multiple steps and operations, I am filled with excitement. Yet as much as I cherish our afternoon sessions and see how far he's come academically, I can't shake the feeling that I, like the long line of permanent substitutes before me, am letting him down. He is living up to his end of our promise, and it crushes me to think that by my being out of our classroom so much I am not living up to my end. It is now that he tells me that his parents have separated and he is afraid that he is going to have to go to another school. He says it is hard to concentrate when I am teaching because he has all this stuff going on in his head.

With winter break a week away and with prospects for a new fifth grade teacher on the horizon, I am confident that it will be back to business as usual when we start back in January. I just hope that Damian will still be in my class and that he doesn't lose his momentum or give up on himself as things get tougher and we shift into a higher gear as end-of-year testing nears.

April 15th, 2004

Damian is still in my class, still plugging away. Everyday, I am relieved to see him stroll into class much like he did on the first day of school, except now the bounce in his step is no longer defiance or hatred of school, but instead confidence and pride. It has been over a month since we have taken our Stanford 10 tests and everyday since, I have been greeted by Damian with a, "good morning Mr. Griffith, are they here yet?" The "they" he refers to are the test scores and everyday the answer was the same: "not yet Damian but when they do get here you will be the first to know."

"Ok, Mr. Griff. Just checking."

Today started the exact same way except with a little added frustration on both of our parts. "Why are they taking so long, huh?" "I know, Damian. I want to know the results as badly as you do." And with that, we both began our school day. After lunch, we were concentrating on our mental math competition when we all heard the announcement bell followed by the voice of our principal:

"Excuse me teachers and students, but the Stanford results are in and we will be bringing them to your classroom shortly." Damian froze and put his head down. A few moments later, I had the results in my hand and asked to see Damian in the hallway.

By the time I made it to the hallway my eyes were visibly watering. "Mr. Griffith, what's wrong? I know it, I failed, didn't I? But how? I thought I was ready. I really tried this time, and I thought I knew that stuff..."

"Damian, what did I promise you would happen if you worked hard and stayed with me?"
"That I would be on grade level, but I failed Mr. Griffith. I failed again."
"Damian, welcome to grade level."
My eyes were no longer the only ones watering.
His only response, "Call my momma. Call my momma."

I will never forget that conversation, fighting back overwhelming tears and pride, to tell mom that her son has improved almost three grade levels in reading and math, and four grade levels in writing. How her baby is now, for the first time, on grade level in everything, and above grade level in math. Mom put it best, saying that now her son has a second chance in life. She seemed to think that it had been all my doing, but I know the truth. All I did was believe in him, it was Damian who worked hard, wasn't afraid to fail, persevered through struggles and setbacks, and ultimately succeeded. I was just lucky enough to be a part of it.

Note: Some names have been changed in order to protect the privacy of individuals.

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