Day Four: Sticking It Out

Lots of data today.

We made bridges out of sheets of paper and loaded them with cups of pennies until they broke, a simple failure test that the students enjoy. Then, we did the Data Song-and-Dance: make a scatter plot, draw a line of best fit, predict, extrapolate, interpolate, answer questions.

We went to a softball game in what felt like sub-zero temperatures (it’s amazing how the clouds can make 51° feel like 31°). We watched Lawrence’s softball team play the team from Haverhill (Lawrence in dark blue, Haverhill in dull yellow). I wanted ten data points for number of pitches per at bat. Again, a struggle with the language. After five at bats, some students thought we had seen ten and wanted to go inside. Others knew five at bats had happened, but didn’t know that a pitch that was hit counted as a pitch. Still others thought to exclude foul balls because they were hit. But the kids know the game. They cheered when one of the girls in the blue Lancers jerseys scored, and they were silent when one of the other teams players (en una camiseta amarilla) scores. With the cold, we decided to quit at eight at bats.

We came inside, and found the measures of central tendency (mean, median, mode, and range). The struggle is not in the operation, and it hasn’t been this whole week, which tells me the students know the math. Period. It’s all about the language. I can hear their thoughts: what is this question asking me to do? What do these words mean? And I know I’m hearing them in English when they are thinking in Spanish. I’m learning to read more of the non-verbal cues for when the understanding is a struggle: eyes and head down, hands on forehead, head nodding, slouching. I’d think this is just dramatic overreaction in my classes normally, but here, it’s all I’ve got. Why ask for words to express the struggle when the body language says it all?

My students are more proud of their work today, and it’s coming more easily. Some of them are crushing it (another colloquialism I had to explain). Others are moving along more slowly, but they are getting there. I stuck with one student (E) until right to the end of class, before lunch, and I thanked him for his good work. He thanked me right back.

It all fell apart after lunch. They had a full day before lunch, and I realized that I overplayed my hand. You know the class is over when kids break out their phones, take selfies, and can hardly focus on the task at hand. Again, I don’t blame them. I consult the wall again. I’ve taken up a third of the corridor; it is plastered with student work that is correct, colorful, and compelling. I sit them down and let them know that it fell apart, but that I understand. We’re all tired. We’re on edge, I tell them. But I tell them we all need to stick it out.

I asked them if they know what stick it out means. The best guess I got was that it was something about camping. It’s a great guess. I told them that it really means to do something and to keep doing it, even when it gets really tough or when it feels hardest. It’s another thing they get.

“Will you all be here tomorrow?”

“Yes, Mister!”

“Can I get one more good day of work tomorrow?”

“Yes, Mister!”

The announcement for the daily raffle goes off, and they leave. Only one more day, a goodbye, and blind faith left.