Settling In

by Ashley

I'm starting this post on Friday, and will most likely finish it on Sunday. Since I'll be sitting through 16 hours of virtual PD over Saturday and Sunday, I figured I'd get a head start. Granted, I may be able to work on this post during my trainings, but admittedly I suppose that makes me a bad student. I'm slowly transitioning from a by-the-book person, to more of a see-the-bigger picture person. I think it's safe to say that nothing short of village life in rural Alaska would have brought that change about at an expedited rate. (After all, the previous trajectory took me 40 years...) There have been so many days, where my original, in-the-box plan failed, sometimes monumentally. And yet, on those days, when I took a step back and just watched, I realized there was a lot of learning actually taking place. It just didn't look the way I thought it would. And things are a bit more unorthodox out here, so there's room for creativity and true flexibility. I love how back in Texas, especially after COVID, the buzz phrase thrown around was, "fluid and flexible," as we were simultaneously given new mandates to follow. Here, in many ways, those words are actually closer to their meaning.

It feels like it's been awhile since I've written about my classroom, and a lot has happened over the last month or so. Discipline is still trending in the right direction, although there are still plenty of "two steps forward, three steps back," days here and there. Any time students have been absent from school, we're in for a rough week when they come back, as they reintegrate themselves into the school environment. However, that adjustment period has become notably shorter. And of course, there is the element of the come-and-go with students, from village to village. It really has amazed me at how casually students are shuffled from one place to the other, staying with various family members who are spread up and down the Yukon.

This week, one of my students left to go back to her home village with her parents. She's been here since my arrival in October, and even though I knew she was only here temporarily, it's safe to say that it didn't take me long to get invested and attached. I'm laughing as I type that, because Philip was right: it never takes me long to get attached. This student though, was an amazing observation in growth. When I got here, she was shy, drawn into herself, and most of her academics were really low. She had no confidence in herself, but her sweet nature made her liked and loved by all. Yet, over the last three months, she made gains in all academic areas, began participating in large and small group discussions, and even developed some confidence in her abilities. I am so proud of how hard she worked, every single day. She did everything that was asked of her, and more. She really took to writing, and I will miss our journaling back and forth, as she always had an entry she wanted me to read and respond to. One of the hardest parts of teaching is that moment when you have to let them go. It's the same thread as parenting, of course; did I help you enough to help yourself? I know her path ahead is not going to be easy. The tight hug she gave me before she left communicated much more than a simple goodbye. But all you can do is be in the moment, giving all you've got, and hoping for the best. The rest is beyond your reach.

On the flipside, frustrations are mounting with administrative oversight. I won't go into detail, because I don't want this to become a venting post. However, suffice it to say, it's infuriating when a decision was made regarding one of your students, that didn't allow for any input from you. In fact, it was worse than that. I gave input and insight, and it was ignored. As a result, a student who is greatly in need of stability and intensive instruction has now missed school for almost two weeks. I can only imagine what's going to happen when this student returns. There are so many nuances that play into developing a healthy dynamic between students and educators, and when those are discounted or ignored, not only are possibilities squandered, but worse, damage is done. Thankfully, I was able to speak to the parent of this student, to give my input, and give some resources for her child to use while they are out of school. She shed some tears in our meeting, sharing things with me that she and her family have gone through over the last year. I'd be lying if I said I left that meeting with dry eyes. Philip and I are doing our best to mitigate the mounting frustrations with the misguided power dynamic that exists on our campus, but man...when you mess with my students, it's hard to keep the bear in the den. Fortunately, I know my emotional tendencies and have learned that rarely does my anger serve me well in its raw state. As far as my student's contribution to the situation...yes, mistakes were made on his/her part. But did those mistakes warrant the sentence that was levied? Not at all. Especially since that decision was made from one whose inconsistency and partiality exacerbated the issue. Don't set a kid up for failure, and then slam down the gavel when he or she behaves within the parameters that have been previously tolerated. Don't do that.

I will say this: my class and I bonded over, "the injustice," as it has become known, among my students. I've delicately walked the line of not bashing the powers that be, yet affirming for my students where I stand in all of this. We've had discussions of fairness, consistent expectations, and how the actions of one can impact the outcome for all. We were also able to reflect on the actions and words we use that either help or hinder the progress of others, and that if we weren't happy with this particular outcome, we should do all that we could to make sure we're not a part of the problem. All that to say, that despite the incredibly infuriating circumstances, valuable lessons were learned. Of course, once again, they were lessons that none of the district-mandated tests detected during this last window of testing. But something changed after that. Maybe it was my students being able to see me fight for them. Maybe our candid conversations increased the trust factor another notch. Either way, I know I have my work still cut out for me when our exiled student returns. But the potential trajectory of this kid is worth it, and lucky for him/her, I'm extremely stubborn.

To that end, Philip and I both recently signed our contracts for next year. Yes, they send those out incredibly early in January. We checked in with the kids, to see if this was an adventure they wanted to continue, or if they were ready to call it a day. They unanimously agreed that they wanted to stay. As such, we are here for another year. Our students were notably agreeable to the notion of us staying, as were the other staff on campus. Perhaps that will help us for the remainder of this year, if students know they're going to have to put up with us next year as well. Our adventure here, is not over yet.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep."

Our frosty faces after walking students home from an evening visit, in -40 degree temps.

Referring to the unorthodox nature of life out here, I will only have one student in my class next week. One. All of my sixth graders got accepted into a STEM-centered program known as the ANSEP Academy, located in Anchorage. Our Avery will be going on this trip with her classmates, which entails 2/3 of my class flying out of the village on Monday, and not returning until the following Tuesday. Since I just lost one of my 5th graders, and another one will be out of town, I will have one lonely 5th grader under my tutelage. He and I are actually looking forward to it. We sat down Friday afternoon, towards the end of the instructional day, and planned out activities and lessons that he would enjoy. It will of course, involve lots of games, science experiments, and extra gym time, since he has really come to love volleyball since we got here. Hopefully, all of our fun will partially distract me from thinking too much about the fact that the baby of the family will be flying 350 miles away, without a single family member, for the first time. Yes, there will be chaperones from the district supposedly watching them like hawks. But of course, that's not the same. I'm sure she'll have a blast, and won't be nearly as homesick for us as I will be for her. I welcome the opportunities for independence that our kids are getting to experience out here. But it doesn't make it any easier.

Negative temps provide that natural blush.

I do love how our kids have become mentors for the younger kids, and authentically seem to be enjoying that role. We're seeing growth in our own crew out here, which was a major reason why we decided to come in the first place. We're being challenged in ways we couldn't possibly have foreseen, and yet, after the pain and/or frustration of difficult situations pass, I remain thankful for the wisdom that was collected from them. I'm still glad we decided to do this crazy thing. Reflecting on our jobs as teachers here, it'll be a bonus if we can get our students to match the magical goals of MAP, STAR, mClass, and state testing. But more importantly, if we can impart any wisdom at all on what it takes to be a decent, self-sufficient and compassionate human being, we will consider our time here a success.

Finally, we enjoyed another trickle of mail this week, which gave us hot chocolate reinforcements (always happily received!!!), reusable paper towels, grocery staples, and some toys for the kids. Yes, our teens and preteens still enjoy play things of the past. In particular, our son, who has enjoyed the rounds of red play dough and red Hot Wheels. It warms my heart a bit to see that a part of our kids are who they've always been; the three-year-old is still alive and well within our 14-year-old man child. I leave you with pictures of that.