8/25/2004 When the bell rings : Middle school teacher Jennifer Hansen gets ready for the first day of school
Kelly Westhoff
Jennifer Hansen is having trouble sleeping. "My brain's running a mile a minute," she confessed.
Hansen's mind is up all night because school's about to start. There is much to think about and much more to do. In the month of August, she will attend all-day teacher workshops and arrange her classroom so it's ready for the 157 eighth-grade students she will teach each day. She needs to plan a curriculum for the upcoming year, enter the names of her new students into her computer, prepare lesson plans for the first day and, of course, stock up on school supplies. And she absolutely must practice getting up with an alarm clock.
For students and teachers across the nation, the annual back-to-school ritual is much more than a new set of pencils and a polished pair of shoes: it's a change in routine. "It's a big adjustment," Hansen admitted. "It's hard to readjust sometimes. I have to make lists. Lots and lots of lists."
Repeating eighth grade
Hansen teaches language arts at Anthony Middle School in Minneapolis. It's her fourth year at Anthony and her 10th year in the Minneapolis district. This year, Hansen is looking forward to a pleasant and unusual occurrence: teaching the same grade and curriculum that she taught last year.
Her first year at Anthony, she taught sixth grade, the next year seventh grade, then eighth grade. This year she gets to repeat eighth grade.
For teachers, switching the grade level or subject every year requires energy. It means saving all available materials from past years in case they should ever teach that subject again. It also means starting the school year from scratch.
To keep track of all the materials she has used in the past or will use in the future, Hansen has one filing cabinet in her garage at home and three in her classroom. "I have been hoarding," she explained. "I have one drawer on media literacy, one on survival/Holocaust and another on mystery and suspense. And they're full! And I use them all!"
Another thing Hansen uses a lot of is Kleenex. A box of Kleenex is good only for a couple of days‹if that‹in a middle school classroom. Students "always take two, never one!" exclaimed Hansen.
A box of Kleenex every two days? Who supplies it all?
Hansen does, just like many other teachers across the metro area. She also buys markers, pencils and colored pencils for her students, and she salvages backpacks and three-ring
binders from previous classes. "The other week I got composition books two for a dollar," she smiled, raising her fist in victory. "I scored there!"
"I browse Target ads to see what's on sale. And garage sales," she added. "I've spent hundreds. Hundreds. I've already spent hundreds and the school year hasn't even started."
Hansen shakes her head. She expects to spend more before the school year is out. Halfway through last year she bought canisters of Play-Doh, enough for each student to have a fist full. "I wanted the Play-Doh because I got this great idea to illustrate the writing process," she beamed.
Hansen is not alone: many teachers buy supplies, from basic necessities like Kleenex to fodder for an eclectic teaching strategy.
"And then there are the books," added Hansen, thinking of yet another item she'd like to buy for her classroom. "I'd love to have really good books for the kids to read."
More work, fewer books
Good books are a staple for a language arts teacher like Hansen, but a scarcity at her school.
A few years ago, the library cleaned house and pitched out-dated materials and books with crumbling spines, but since then, the funds haven't existed to replenish the supply.
This brings Hansen to a point she'd like to make: lack of money for public schools means a lack of resources for kids. Composition books and markers aside, Hansen said, the bigger picture is that budget cuts translate into pressured school staff. Teachers often surrender their prep periods to cafeteria, hall and bus duties, and teachers are also expected to take on larger and more diverse classes.
Last year, there were more ELL (English Language Learner) students than there were hours to help them, recalled Hansen. This year, Hansen won't know exactly how many of her students don't speak English as a first language until the first days of school. She only hopes school officials have been able to find a way to channel those students into English-language classes with a trained ELL teacher.
Anthony Middle School's ELL population has been primarily Somali-speaking. This year, the school may add a percentage of Hispanic ELL students. When ELL teachers are swamped‹and many are, given the Twin Cities' recent influx of immigrants‹classroom teachers wind up teaching basic English and life skills to ELL students.
"One of the harder things," said Hansen, "is getting kids in the class that have been in camps. Refugee kids. These kids don't know school culture. They don't know what to bring to school, what to do in a classroom. They don't know how to raise their hand or even how to tell time."
Hansen recounted one experience from last year. "I had one Somali boy who only said "hello' and "PlayStation' in English."
Luckily, there were five other Somali students in the classroom who were able to help Hansen translate lessons and work with the new student. But this places a hefty burden on the students, Hansen points out. They are serving two roles in the classroom: learner and teacher.
"If there were more money," Hansen said, "we could have more help for the ELL kids. Maybe we could hire another Somali translator instead of just the one we have now."
How do the other kids treat a 13-year-old student that can't tell time and only knows the words hello and PlayStation?
"For the most part, my students more want to help everybody out," explained Hansen. "It's the classroom culture that you build."
Last year, Hansen's skill in creating a positive classroom learning culture helped her win recognition from the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards (NBPTS). Hansen wrote four papers and took a test to earn a National Board Certification, an advanced teaching license recognized across state lines. Certification from the NBPTS means Hansen has demonstrated that she is among the nation's most accomplished teachers.
A safe space
While Hansen is proud of the national recognition of her work, the award that touches her heart comes from closer to home. This past spring, Hansen was nominated for Minneapolis teacher of the year. Each year the district asks students in the fifth, eighth and 12th grades to write essays nominating their best teachers for the award. A district committee then nominates eight teachers based on those essays. After interviews with principals and other school staff, four teachers finally receive the title.
After the nomination process was done, Hansen‹one of the eight finalists‹received the essays students had written about her. "They said they felt safe in my room," Hansen said. "And that I made them work hard, but that it was to get them ready for high school. And that I listen to them. They wrote about the relationship kinds of things. And that's what's most important."
A stack of student-written essays praising and thanking a teacher is hard to top. Smiling, Hansen placed her hands over her heart and said simply, "I treasure those."
Those essays serve to remind Hansen why she is returning to a school district plagued with budget cuts and stress. "I love the diversity and the challenge that Minneapolis brings," she said. "I can't imagine teaching anywhere else."
That stack of essays also keeps Hansen focused as she heads into a new school year. Hansen beamed, "There are mornings that I wake up and think, "I get paid for this?' This is an incredible job."
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