Anthology Pieces
Big soft eyes
Crooked smile
Little brother
Phish follower
A gentle soul
s n a p
Darting eyes
Paranoia
Angry words
D o w
n
w
a
r
d
spiral
Hospital
Restraints
Meds
Recovery
Falling in love
Hope
Crooked smile back once more
New job
Family
Possibilities seem endless
Heartbreak
Back again
Little brother lost once more
Gina Juneau
Yailin
Gina Juneau
Yailin often had a bored look on her face at any given time of day. She made it quite obvious when she was bored or totally uninterested in what was going on. Which was quite often.
“Yailin, pay attention please.”
A loud sigh would come out of her tiny 5 year old body. Her shoulders would fall as if this act of listening was taking a toll on her.
Other times when given work she would stare out the window instead. I would often go out of my way to make things seem really, really interesting for her. Most of the time, she wasn’t buying it.
At one point in the year she had been out for two weeks. When she returned I asked her if she was ok. “I’m fine”, she responded.
“Were you sick?”
“No.”
“Did you go away?”
She shook her head no.
When I continued to press on with my questions she finally turned to me and ever so matter-of-factly said “Look, I just don’t like school.”
I took this as a sign to jump in and explain the importance of school and getting a good education. I told her coming to school would make her smart and it would help her become whatever she wanted to be when she grew up. I still wasn’t convinced that I even put a dent in her feelings. So I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up.
A smile came across her little face and her almond colored eyes lit up.
“A teacher.”
My Teaching Journey
Gina Juneau
It was the spring of 1998 and I had quit my job earlier in the season. I was temping in NYC to bring in some additional income into our household while I attended classes at night. My hope was to become a special education teacher.
I came across a posting on campus for a position as a shadow for a 7 year old with Asperger’s . I liked the idea of having a permanent situation for income and called immediately. I went for the interview and got the job. The next three months consisted of me riding on a school bus with Benjy and other neighborhood children with disabilities to a small private Orthodox Jewish school in New Jersey. It was a different world for me, coming from a not so Orthodox Catholic family. I wore long skirts, kept my shoulders covered, attended all prayer services and learned so much about the religion. That part was fun. The not so fun part was actually dealing with Benjy. I was in charge of giving him his medication, which he never wanted to take, and found myself restraining him on an almost daily basis. You don’t think a 7 year old could be so strong, but I would find myself in a sweat more often than I cared for.
My life as a shadow only lasted four months. In that time I observed the struggles and obstacles Benjy’s teacher had in her class. I witnessed the outbreaks, both verbal and physical, and found that this was not the place I had envisioned.
After this experience I chose not to pursue special education but still wanted to become a classroom teacher. I signed up for more classes that spring and summer of 1999. I ran into a good friend who was teaching at a middle school in the Bronx. She informed me of the several positions that were open at her school and suggested I apply. I was about ¾ of the way done with my graduate program so I decided to go for it. The position I was interviewing for was a bilingual science teacher. I had minored in Spanish and taken several science classes in college – I foolishly thought “Why not?”
Reflecting back, the interview was the easy part. The kids?! Oh, I could write a book about those characters! They had no mercy for a struggling new teacher. How can 13 year olds be so mean? How can then be so disrespectful?
I remember Sterling Medina – a little chunk of a boy who would run to the open window of the classroom yelling out to the apartment building next door “HELP ME! She’s trying to kill me!” Jose Cabrera, who after getting written up for one of his many classroom disruptions, politely suggested that I should get a job at Fed Ex since I liked to ship things out so much. And lastly, Delvin and Kenye, my two smallest 6th graders – who got so wrapped up in the idea of having a fist fight that they forgot to actually get near each other. I still chuckle when I picture these 2 boys, weighing maybe 100 pounds combined, wildly flailing their skinny arms above them, while standing about 3 feet from each other.
I remained at MS 143x for three long years. It was the combination of the lack of support and materials that finally drove me out in June 2002. That summer I quickly jumped at the opportunity to teach bilingual kindergarten in Newburgh, NY. How difficult could it be to teach letters and numbers? , I once again foolishly thought. I traded in the hormones and attitude of a middle school for the complete chaos of a kindergarten class! My first request for my class to line up resulted in what looked like a scene out of Grand Central Station at rush hour. Who knew they did not have this concept down? Failure to distinguish the difference between yesterday, today and tomorrow has also led to some interesting conversations. I found that I have also become a pro at tying shoes and zipping zippers in a pinch.
But I have to say that the past six years have been some of the most rewarding for me as an educator. Teaching my bilingual class has made me aware that I am often the voice for these children and their families when they cannot defend themselves and their rights in a school setting. I have learned how to be more patient and understanding of the needs of a five year old. To see the gleam in a child’s eye when they realize they can read or write after working so hard at it is a gift I receive and treasure every year. And have I mentioned my collection of heart mugs? I am guaranteed at least 3 a year on Valentine’s Day!
As I look forward to my 10th year of teaching I can’t help but to think back to my first experiences in a classroom. It seems like it was another lifetime. I can laugh now, but there were so many times that I was at the end of my rope. I’m now grateful for having gone though them. I honestly don’t think I could have turned out to be the teacher I am today without them.
