Meghan Brown
7th grade - Science
Kermit Cook
11th and 12th grade - Physics
Mariel Elguero
8th grade - English
Katy Frey
K-4 - Special Education Resource
Maribel Gonzalez
5th and 6th grade - Bilingual
Adam Greenman
7th and 8th grade - Social Studies
Liam Honigsberg
High School - Math
Anthony Jewett
3rd grade - Bilingual
Shyla Kinhal
2nd grade - Bilingual
Janis Ortega
4th grade - Bilingual
Sarada Peri
9th and 10th grade - English and Reading
Jessika Rao
10th, 11th, and 12th grade - English and Drama
Ranjana Reddy
7th grade - Physical Science
Ranjana Reddy graduated from Stanford University with a major in science, technology and society and Honors in ethics in society. She is a 2004 New York City corps member and she taught seventh grade physical science at IS 162 in the South Bronx.
I've been teaching for two weeks now. I teach all five seventh grade classes, and I've finally managed to learn the names of all 150 of my students. I want so much for these students. I want them to envision themselves as scientists and to learn to question the world around them. I want them to set ambitious goals for themselves and to develop the drive and persistence they will need to achieve them. More than anything, I want to make science meaningful for them.
As I look around my classroom, my eyes always pause on James Mills, a small, round child with a brilliant smile and a volatile mood. His was one of the first names I learned.
On the first day of school, I asked each of my students to set individual goals for my class, for the year as a whole, and for their lives. I wanted to get to know them as individuals: What do they want for themselves? What do they value? Who do they aspire to be? I walked around the room, reading students' responses to my questions. I stood over the desk of a small boy and read the name at the top of his paper: "James Mills."
The name was familiar. The sixth grade teachers had warned me about him before school even started:
"James makes it impossible for other students to learn."
"James just doesn't care about consequences or punishment."
"Good luck with James."
I stood over James' shoulder, hoping he would share his interests and life goals with me. Instead, he picked up his pencil and wrote: '"I don't care" at the top of the page. With those three words, I worried that he was already confirming the other teachers' warnings.
Since the first day of school, I've determined that of my 150 students, 142 are behind grade level in either math or reading, and it will be very hard for them to succeed in science without those basic skills.
James is one my students who is farthest behind. He is one year older than the rest of my students. For the past three years, he has received a one — the lowest possible score - on the state tests in both reading and math, which means that he entered my seventh grade class reading two years behind grade level and working math problems three years behind grade level. He was only promoted to the seventh grade after six weeks of remedial summer school.
When I plan my lessons, I find myself asking, "How can I reach James? How can I make him want to learn science? Will this lesson convince him to care?"
After sending him to the dean and making several phone calls to his mother to discuss his poor behavior, incomplete assignments, and unwillingness to complete class work, I realized that if James is going to make significant progress this year, I'll have to gain his trust and convince him to invest in my class. Since reprimands and negative consequences were having little to no effect on his behavior and learning, I tried the opposite approach. I began giving James positive reinforcement for everything he did well. At first, it was difficult to find positive things to say—I praised him for coming to class prepared with his notebook and pencil and I even commended him for arriving to class on time. James responded quickly to my positive comments and once he realized that he gets more attention from me when he behaves well than when he misbehaves, his behavior turned around. Soon, he began taking notes in class, participating in class discussions, and volunteering for leadership roles during labs.
I realized how much progress James was making when he returned from Christmas break, proudly carrying a poster he had created for his holiday project. I had asked students to use the scientific method to test the effectiveness of two brands of a household product, and to report back to class with their results.
Listening to James excitedly explain his experiment to the class it was hard to believe that just a few months earlier, James had claimed not to care about anything. He was now clearly invested in his science project and he consistently showed enthusiasm during discussions and labs.
But report cards went out to students and James received a 65 in my class—the lowest possible passing grade. When he received his report card, he wanted to know—did you grade my holiday project? How did I get a 65? James' participation had improved and he had made a concerted effort with his work, but his quiz and test grades were still low. Since he started the year so far behind in math, he's had trouble mastering the science content, which relies on those skills.
I realized today that enthusiasm is not enough. I'm pleased that I've created an environment in which most of my students are excited about class. They look forward to labs, ask informed questions, and are eager to share what they've learned. But without basic math skills, it is impossible for students to truly master the physical science curriculum. James and several of my other students will have to work even harder to succeed in science, and I'll have to do even more to ensure their success.
After his disappointing grade last marking period, James asked me "Ms. Reddy, if I start doing better in your class, will you call my mother and tell her?" I told him that nothing would make me happier, but that improvement would not be easy. James and I talked about what he would need to focus on, and we agreed that math was his weakest area. Before he could succeed on the science quizzes and exams, he would have to practice his multiplication, division, exponents, and order of operations.
Talking to James made me realize that he was not alone. In every class I teach, there are at least seven or eight students who are just as far behind. I knew I would have to do something to supplement the math instruction students were receiving in class, so I started holding math practice workshops a few days per week during lunch and gym. I invited all of my students to come, and I targeted a few who I knew needed the extra instruction. Most students who are behind in math come up to my room about one period per week, but James comes up every chance he gets—usually three or four times a week.
His quiz and exam grades have drastically improved. Just this week, he scored a 90 percent on his fifth unit exam. As promised, I called home to a proud mother and James took his exams, lab reports, and quizzes home for her to see.
James still has a lot of work to do. The 90 percent he received doesn't mean he's up to grade level in math; in fact, he's still far behind, but he has made amazing progress. With the math instruction he has received in my class and in his math class, James is now working at a sixth grade level — two grades higher than he was in September.
The lessons James has learned over the course of the year parallel what I've learned as a first-year teacher. James has learned, as I have, that interest and engagement in a subject are important, but that they're not enough. He's learned that caring about school is the first step towards being able to envision a future for himself that he's excited about. But he also knows now that to be successful academically, he needs to work hard. The road will be long and hard, but the stakes are high and James is committed. He is even taking this message to the other kids.
Last week, I overheard a conversation James was having with a friend, who is another one of my students who struggles with math. James' friend was trying to convince him to play basketball during lunch instead of working on math in my classroom. But James was persistent. By the end of the conversation, James had convinced his friend to join him for extra math instead of playing basketball.
Note: Some names have been changed in order to protect the privacy of individuals.