No Child Left Behind??? The True Story of a Teacher's Quest

By Elizabeth Blake

Dramatic yet hopeful memoir of teaching at-risk students. If you liked the movie "Dangerous Minds" with Michelle Pfeifer, you'll like this book. Compelling true story of one teacher's quest to leave no child behind. Blake's search for her pupose in life leads her to teach science in inner-city school. But will the stress overcome her love of teaching?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Blake
• Release date: Jan 8, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452407562

Book preview

"NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND?

The True Story of a Teacher’s Quest"

by Elizabeth Blake

Smashwords Edition

Copyright@2010 by Elizabeth Blake No Child Left Behind? The True Story of a Teacher’s Quest Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted to someone else in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

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Biography, Memoir

This book is available in print at Amazon.com; BarnesandNoble.com; Bookdepository.com; HudsonHousepub.com

AUTHOR'S NOTE

A factual account of my years teaching in an alternative school, I wrote "No Child Left Behind?" in honest faith to the best of my recollection.

The names of all schools, students, teachers, and administrators have been changed to protect their privacy. I also altered physical details to further disguise certain persons. Although all events are true, they are not necessarily presented chronologically, in order to facilitate the flow of the story.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the students who have faced adversities in their lives and never gave up, refusing to be left behind.

And, to those students whose destinies were snatched from them by bullets and violence.

INTRODUCTION

During a search for my life’s purpose, teaching pulled at me like a magnet. I switched careers in my forties and entered the world of inner-city high schools as a science teacher.

The challenges of my new career shocked me. Fighting gangs, drugs, teen pregnancies, shootings, riots, and to my surprise, administration, I desperately searched for a way to reach my students.

My students taught me as much as I taught them and I grew, becoming stronger and wiser. I finally came to understand I couldn’t change the world but I could help my students, one individual life at a time.

More tests are not a solution to this problem. By giving teachers and students the help they need, we can do better. Only then can we begin to leave no child behind.

What others are saying about

No Child Left Behind?

The true story of a teacher's quest

This is a compelling message about one woman's vision to leave no child behind. --JoAnn V. Cleland, Ed.D., Professor Emeritus of Reading Education, Arizona State University, West Campus

Fantastic!—Polly Hanusosky, RN

A wonderful piece of writing.—Pastor Hermann Weinlick

The Up the Down Staircase for the 21st century.—Patrick Blake, New York based producer of the critically acclaimed, award winning plays The Exonerated and In the Continuum

"This compelling book evoked the entire spectrum of feelings and emotions from inspiration, admiration and joy to anger, fear and grief. You made my already very high opinion of teachers, higher. You taught me and you made me think. Always signs of a great book.—Carol, Radiologic Technologist

"In No Child Left Behind?, Elizabeth Blake gives an honest and courageous assessment of her years teaching science to at-risk students. Blake, who currently creates science materials for homeschoolers, has provided a moving account of her passion for teaching at-risk students."—Joan Prefontaine, Suite101.com reviewer

I found Blake's writing style compelling, often heartbreaking, yet positive in attitude and approach. I especially enjoyed the follow up on some of her students who have moved on to enroll in various college programs or to pursue professional training for promising careers.--Richard Blake (no relation) Amazon reviewer

"No Child Left Behind? is a book that I am grateful to have had the opportunity to read. Blake does an excellent job of taking the reader into the classroom. I love the way that she introduces us to some of her students, and the follow-up at the end of the book really wraps up the circle of life. If you want a feel for how a great teacher connects with his/her students, and a journey one teacher took following the path she believed God was taking her on, then this is a book for you to read. I admire Elizabeth Blake for being able to share her story with the world."—Joyce M. Gilmour; VPMM of Sgt. Adam—USMCR; www.marineparentsunited.com :

I was impressed with Blake's certainty that, no matter how difficult the situation she was facing was, she always found confidence based on her certainty that God wasn't going to let her down....even when it must have felt that way at times. - Clyde R. Shallenberger, D.D., D.H.L., Senior Chaplain for 30 years at Johns Hopkins Hospital

Absolutely compelling! I expected the book to go in a very different direction than it did, and I must admit I was tremendously pleasantly surprised. I have been a teacher for twelve years and can relate to much of what Ms. Blake wrote about. She takes the reader into her world and doesn't let go of them until the final word. I got to know her students, fellow teachers and administrators through Blake's use of metaphors and descriptive writing. The moment I finished the book I had to email her directly, I was so impressed.--Leon Scott- Baxter Lewandowski, Author

This book is fantastic! The stories Blake tells are most inspiring. It's amazing the gold she was able to bring out of these young people in the most difficult of circumstances. -- Karl Fredrickson, Waldorf instructor, New York state

Mrs. Blake is a determined woman with deep faith in God and conviction in her goal not to abandon the children who need her guidance. Towards the end she quotes Gandhi: You may never know what results come from your actions. But if you do nothing, there will be no result. One wonders if Gandhi himself would have been able to remain in that school district much longer than did Mrs. Blake. She cites the chilling statistics that up to 50% of new teachers will leave the profession within their first five years, estimating that in her school district it was more like 90%. Yet the tone of her memoir is not one of bitterness, but of hope that change will someday come; satisfaction that she did do something to help as many kids succeed as she was somehow able to reach; and gratitude that in the process of affecting their lives they blessed her own.--Roy Pickering Jr., Author Patches of Grey

This is an extremely moving account of a teacher’s struggles to change the lives of at-risk students. It can’t help but inspire persons who want to make a difference and choose to follow their hearts.-- Jerry Smith, California-based playwright, poet and novelist

Chapter 1

Conejo

The heavy cardboard box of teaching materials fell with a thud on the garage floor. Rummaging through my various supplies, exhaustion suddenly overtook me. My shoulders slumped and I sat in the dust with a sigh. Only in my fourth year of teaching, I wondered: could I continue with this? The memory of just a few hours ago whirled like a bad movie in my mind as my eyes drooped shut.

Slowly the boy turned around to face me. I was in the front of the classroom, holding the attendance sheet in my hand. He stood a few inches away for a moment, glaring at me. His menacing eyes never left mine as he boldly approached me. We stared at each other as he walked up to me and stood one inch in front of my face.

He closed the distance between us and I could see the hatred blazing in his eyes. He stood slightly taller than I did and was solid muscle. His lips curled into a threatening sneer as he spat out the words, F*** you, bitch.

In an instant, his hands were on my shoulders and he shoved my body against the wall behind me. I felt the barrier against my back, like a trap. My mind frantically begged, Help me, Lord!

What brought me to that frightening place? Why did this happen to me, overwhelming me to the point that I could barely continue? I needed to know the reason for this brick wall I ran into after fighting for so long. Gangs, drugs, shootings, a riot – they had all strengthened me, but now I wondered if I could even go back again tomorrow. What was the purpose of my struggles these last four years? I refused to stop searching until I figured out why my journey had led me here.

When I was younger, I had obtained a degree in medical technology and worked in a medical laboratory for 20 years performing tests in hospital chemistry and hematology departments.

I loved that job, where everything lined up neatly in test tube racks in timely fashion. Medical science fascinated me and it gave me a sense of satisfaction because I was helping people. But when I reached my mid-forties, I knew I wanted something different. While searching for my destination, my quest became discovering what God wanted me to do with my life now.

I feel like I’m searching for something different, and haven’t quite found it, I mentioned to a nursing friend of mine who taught high school biology during the week and worked as an R.N. on the weekends.

I love teaching. Ever consider that as a career?

Surprised at her response, I said, Yes, many times. I think I’d really like it, but I can’t afford to quit work and student-teach to get my certificate. I’m in my forties and I have financial responsibilities. I have to work.

Since you have a bachelor’s degree already, all you’d have to do is take some education courses in the evenings and then get experience teaching for two years instead of student-teaching. Then you’d qualify for a certificate.

How can I get a job without a certificate?

There are districts that will hire teachers who have provisional licenses. Try it and see.

The idea intrigued me but also scared me because of my age, and I wondered if I could do it. I grew up in a small town and didn’t know anything about big-city teens and how they acted today. Would they ever listen to me? Could I handle them? Would they think I could relate to them?

I prayed, asking God what He wanted me to do. What was the purpose of my life, at this time? The desire to teach rumbled in the bottom of my soul, beckoning and pulling at me, until I knew that was the answer. The thought wouldn’t leave my mind. I’ve always believed in people pursuing their passions, so I decided to go for it, and on my evenings and days off, I went back to school.

After completing the necessary education courses, I passed all the numerous state tests the Department of Education required of teachers. After two years of in-classroom experience, I would then be eligible for a Standard Secondary Certificate. I could hardly wait to have my own class. Where do you want me to go, Lord?

Searching through the Sunday paper, I found an alternative-school advertising in the paper for a science teacher. My nursing friend taught in a wealthy district and said, Try to get into a nice school system. Teaching at-risk students can be difficult. But helping at-risk teens pulled at me like a magnet. If nobody did it, they would have nowhere to go and be left behind without an education, their dreams blown away by the wind. That’s where I felt my destiny was.

Besides, the only license the state could give me at this time was provisional until I earned two years experience, so I didn’t have many open doors. I called and set up an interview.

I need someone with a chemistry background because I already have a biology teacher, the interviewing principal said. I’ve been looking for someone who has working experience in the field, outside of a school.

I bit my lip as I thought of the challenge this job would present, but fortunately he seemed oblivious to my nervousness and continued. Our district consists entirely of alternative schools for at-risk students and homeless children. When students can’t make it in a regular school, they’re transferred to alternative schools. This is a ‘bare bones’ school. No music or P.E., just English, History, Math, Science. Oh, we do offer Art. We have no school nurse or guidance counselor. Our focus stays on teaching the basics so students can earn a high school diploma and obtain some skills before they go out into the world as adults.

His matter-of-fact attitude helped set my mind at ease.

Although the school was located in a rough area of the large southwestern city in which I lived, nothing about the area scared me. Large schools intimidated me because I spent my high school years in a small town, so the small size of this school attracted me. A feeling inside me pushed me towards the small school, as if this was where God wanted me to be. Even with ambiguous thoughts battling inside me because of my inexperience with at-risk teens, I knew I wanted to try it. The position almost seemed tailor-made for me because of my background in science. This job hung in front of me like a carrot on a stick and I wanted it. The motto, Better to try and fail than to never try at all, rang in my ears. I decided to carpe diem.

The job is yours if you want it, he said.

I can do this! Taking a deep breath, I nodded. With pen in hand, I eagerly signed the contract and felt an immediate sense of being where I belonged.

That night I told my husband, I feel like all my years of experience in a laboratory have led me on this path to teaching science. I feel as if destiny has called me. We celebrated by going out to dinner.

The small school building, named South Valley High School, stood in the middle of a parking lot, surrounded by concrete in an industrial area of the city. Three dark and dingy hallways of classrooms with one administrative hallway comprised the building. Windowless and drab, my classroom consisted of three bare walls and a white board. Thin dark carpet covered the floors. A musty smell hung in the air pervading everything. Six rows of six desks each crammed into the small room, but I loved every inch of it.

I spent hours preparing my room. With a thermos of coffee, I arrived early every day during teacher-workshop. Pictures of volcanoes for earth science went up on one wall, the food pyramid for health class on another and a metric chart and periodic table for chemistry covered the third. Classes lasted two hours a day for seven weeks. I knew I would be switching topics in each class quickly. Volcano bulletin boards would be replaced by oceans, which would be replaced by earthquakes, which would be replaced by metrics, with a new topic every week. I eventually would have to abandon my idea of having topical bulletin boards - it was too labor-intensive every week.

But when I first began teaching I didn’t care how much work I did. I loved not only my room but also the thought of leading students toward college, inspiring them to learn, giving them self-confidence with my words of wisdom, and motivating them with fascinating science labs.

I had a blast finding all these things, studying magazines and searching the Internet for colorful pictures. In my mind it was more fun than work. My father taught high school science in our small, Midwestern town and when I was young, I helped him correct papers. My siblings and I grew up doing science activities with him. Science surrounded me as a child. My dad knew the answer to any question I could think of. I admired him and wanted him to be proud of me. He gave me motivational posters, prisms and a volcano in a bottle, among other things. I couldn’t wait to use them. My oldest sister was the head of a school district science program up in Minnesota, and she sent me books and materials I eagerly combed through.

I brought textbooks home and at night I studied, telling my husband, After spending the last 20 years in medical science, I have a lot to learn about earth science. Fortunately, I’m finding it to be interesting and I think I can excite my students about it.

In my classroom, my head shook with irritation as I discovered graffiti covering the student textbooks. But not having a laboratory room in which to conduct experiments presented the biggest drawback. The equipment I eventually found included a few flasks, compasses, two balances, and protective eye goggles - not much, but better than nothing. Graffiti and the lack of equipment or a lab didn’t stop me, though. I combed through catalogs and ordered mini-lab kits made particularly for small schools with no laboratory.

The warehouse sent me rulers marked by inches, not centimeters - the kind I used as a little kid in the 1950s. I shook my head in amazement as I examined them. How could I teach metric measurement with those? I would have to drag this school, kicking and screaming, into the twenty-first century.

After finishing preparing my room for the first day of school, I stepped back and examined my work. The drab walls now shined with brightly colored displays. The rows of desks lined up neatly, reminding me of my test tubes in the hospital laboratory. Books sat stacked on shelves waiting to be opened and studied. I drew in a deep breath and smiled to myself. My very own room! I could do whatever I wanted to do with it, decorate it however I wanted to. I loved the creativity of it all. It differed from a laboratory where everything was sterile - pure white with no color spoiling the bleached counters or walls. Creativity didn’t exist in the hospital.

Now I stood in my empty room preparing for the year, imagining myself motivating my students, perhaps finding a future scientist in one of my classes. It thrilled me. I thanked God for this opportunity and felt a sense of accomplishment and hope for the future.

Pulling out my educational textbooks at home, I reviewed motivational and disciplinary tactics, in order to ease the fear I felt. What in heaven’s name are you reading now? my husband asked.

A prepared teacher is the teacher who can best instruct a classroom of unwilling teens, I said. I have to know how to motivate and discipline before I can start teaching. The thought of at-risk students scares me since I have no experience with at-risk children.

You’ll do just fine.

All I know is that they’re teens who didn’t function well in a regular public school. I felt I could possibly relate to them because I, too, preferred a smaller learning environment and always felt on the outside looking in when I was in high school. After spending my youth in the insurgent sixties, I was not a complete stranger to feelings of teenaged rebellion. All anyone can do is try.

After a three-day beginning of the year in-service, school started. Our day started at 7:30 a.m. with hallway duty. My assigned post was in the backyard that consisted of a small concrete area dotted with a few tables. My heart pounded with the quickness of excitement and nerves as I stood waiting for the first day of school to start. Security personnel unlocked and then swung open the wide metal gate with a clang, allowing students to drift slowly in one at a time. A security guard and a police officer stood at the gate, wanding students with a hand-held metal detector for guns or knives.

A fantastic combination of kids walked through that gate – about 80% Hispanic, 10% Caucasian and 10% African-American would be my guess. They were like various colorful flowers blooming in a beautiful garden, surrounded by a land of drab, gray concrete.

Then classes began and my plans exploded. Every day I stood helpless, in front of my class, trying in vain to control the chaos surrounding me.

Laughter erupted as a teenaged girl rolled on the floor in the front of my classroom. Her skirt flew up around her waist and she began rapping a catchy tune.

Excuse me, please return to your desk. More laughter. Should I be forceful? Understanding? Use bribery? Not knowing what to do, I continued, Excuse me? I need you to sit down, please.

The girl ignored my repeated requests and her fellow students eventually grew bored with her antics. A few students rose and roamed around the classroom, talking to their friends.

We need to get back to earth science now. My entire lesson plan was organized and well thought out, but I couldn’t get their attention.

Another girl sat filing her nails, talking to her neighbor. Yeah, last night I got laid. It was great.

Can we keep the topic to earth science, please? Exasperation resonated through my voice.

He called me and said he wanted me, she continued, as if I didn’t even exist. Nobody seemed to notice me. I wished I were tall with a militant, forceful personality so I could grasp their attention, but that wasn’t me. I was just a plain, ordinary, middle-aged short lady who didn’t have a clue how to get my students to listen. The material certainly interested me – why didn’t it interest them? I brought all kinds of fun educational activities for them to do, but we couldn’t do them until at least a minimal amount of order existed.

Suddenly, a girl in the back started screaming gibberish. Her head rolled and she stared out in space. It frightened me - I didn’t know what was wrong with her. We didn’t have a school nurse but I wondered if I should call the office for help.

She always does that, Mrs. Blake. Don’t worry, she’s just nuts, someone informed me.

Okay, let’s get back to earth science now, I said with relief, keeping my eye on the gibberish-girl and making a mental note to ask the special ed. teacher about her. But I still couldn’t get anybody’s attention so I switched tactics and passed out worksheets for them to do. I hated to be the type of teacher who could do nothing but shove worksheets under the students’ noses, but at this time no other choice presented itself.

One girl called out to me, Mrs. Blake, I got my fingernails painted. Come look at them.

Reviews for No Child Left Behind??? The True Story of a Teacher's Quest

[jos8wun · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Elizabeth Blake's story, as recounted in the pages of her book, is one throughout which I was constantly asking "What next!?". The events she describes sometimes beggar belief. I found myself incredulously thinking "How could people in responsible positions behave like that?" only to find, on subsequent pages, there was worse to come. That Elizabeth found ways to deal with the many difficult situations she encountered, to push herself further than many would have gone, and not to give up without a fight in the face of overwhelming adversity, is a testament to her strength of character. The book may be in need, here and there, of a good editor's attention - it's a little rough around the edges in places - but what it lacks in polished writing is made up for in the content of her absorbing story. I constantly wanted to know what happened next. I feel I should also point out that those who don't share Elizabeth's belief that a god (she spells it with a capital G) has a plan for every individual, might find her assertions in that area a little off-putting. But whatever a person's beliefs may be, there is no denying that Elizabeth's helped her not only deal with some very difficult situations at the time, but also enabled her to find a way to continue doing her utmost to ensure that no child she taught was left behind, even though, despite having sometimes gone an extra five miles, let alone one, she was not always successful. Whatever else you may get from reading her book, Elizabeth's personal story shows that there is hope for humanity.