In their own words
Acasia Wilson

Acasia Wilson is a 2002 graduate of the University of Oregon and holds a degree in Humanities and African Studies. Acasia is a 2002 corps member, and she taught fifth grade at Laveen Elementary School in Phoenix.

November 10, 2003

Even before the year began, the fourth grade teachers were warning me about "problem students." One name that kept coming up was Brett Edwards "Brett Edwards is a behavior problem and he is always in trouble", one teacher commented. "Watch out for that one." another teacher said.

On the first day of school during introductions I finally heard a faint, shy, gravelly voice say "Brett." The notorious Brett Edwards had arrived. Much to my surprise he was a thin frail-looking Native American boy. I wondered if this was the kid that I'd been warned about? He had a round face and a large toothy smile. I sensed immediately that he was excited to begin a new year.

By the end of the day I learned that he, like myself, is a huge fan of the cartoon Dragon Ball Z, and he likes to draw the characters in his free time. He was bringing me pictures of Gohan and Piccolo with notes about how cool I was. Things were off to a great start. There is a way to reach every student and I was excited that such a short time into the year, I already knew of something to keep him hooked.

But when diagnostics came back, I realized that Brett and I have a lot of work to do. He is stumbling over second and third grade math skills and reading at a first grade level. As we began to set goals for our class and ourselves, I watched Brett's attitude drastically change. He is the leader of all complaints, and everything he says begins with sucking his teeth. "Chsh, we have to read the newspaper?' "Chsh, we have to do both sides?" But more often than anything, he just says and does nothing. I walk over excitedly after ten minutes of quiet writing only to discover an empty page. "What have you been doing all this time Brett?" I'll ask. He says nothing. He just retracts all of his limbs inside of his shirt like a little turtle, smirks, and stares into space.

Then not too long ago, the referrals began. I can't keep up with his suspensions. He is punching, kicking, and tripping other students, using racial slurs, and making fun of students who are mentally challenged. His behavior is awful. I press and punish him, and it only gets worse. I was so annoyed with his constant disruption of class time today that, I just sat him in the hallway with a pencil and paper. "What do you need to be a successful student?" I asked. "I want to understand the problem." After about fifteen minutes, he re-entered with a picture of himself with a gun to his head. A caption above his face said, "I'm stupid."

January 22, 2004

About a month ago I learned that last year a third of our Native American students were in lowest category on our state standardized test. From the attitudes of my students and the quality of the work they've been handing in, I'm concerned that this year will be no different. I remembered that earlier this year a retired teacher from the community who has spent a portion of her career working on Native American reservations approached me about doing some literacy lessons. I decided to call her and see if she would come in as a guest teacher. I'm so glad I did. Her visit turned our classroom up side down, and I felt a fresh wave of inspiration. We were on our feet for two hours, telling stories and acting out scenes from literature. For the first time my students were excited about reading, especially students who had previously been disinterested. That class made me realize that I needed to do things differently. I went to professional development in-service classes, took graduate courses, and really listened to the advice of veteran teachers.

Earlier this month, when we took mid-year assessments, Brett had already grown by nearly one grade level in reading. Although his progress is coming more slowly in math, he now has something concrete to motivate him. His grades are still low because he rarely completes his homework, but he finally admits that he doesn't understand his work most of the time. Since there is no room in our after school tutoring program and no one to help him at home, I agreed to stay after with him four days per week. During our one-on-one sessions I learn so much about Brett, and become even more invested in his success. I learn about his family and his aspirations. He is a gifted boy who finds it very hard to stay on track without constant incentives. He voluntarily joined my lunchtime peer-tutoring group for reading, and for nearly an entire grading period he does not receive a single referral.

Then today when we were working after school, I left the room to grab a quick snack for both of us. I returned to the classroom when I realized that I did not have enough change for the vending machine. When I opened the door, I found Brett behind my desk looking through my containers. When I asked him what he was doing he refused to tell me. "What were you doing back there Brett?" I said in a calm but stern voice. (Silence) "What were you doing Brett?" I repeated growing impatient with his silence (silence). "What were you doing?" I shouted finally. (Still silence). "I would give you almost anything Brett. It looks like you're trying to take something, is this true? He still said nothing. He just pulled his tiny limbs into his shirt and cried huge sobs. Long after he left the room, my anger and frustration raged on. Every time I turn my back he gets into trouble. This whole idea that I am somehow "affecting" Brett is an illusion.

April 23rd, 2004

As the year's end drew near, I reflect on my overall approach to literacy. I spent a great deal of time just watching my students read, and observing their behaviors. I didn't set out to focus on Brett, but these days, he is reading more than almost any other student in my class. He is poring over the morning paper. He is talking about Maniac Magee in his free time. I had not noticed, until now, how hard he really has been trying.

We have finally finished our yearlong classroom assessments. I can hardly tabulate the figures fast enough to appease my students. Each instrument has a specific goal and a reward attached, so they are eager to know how much they have grown. As I calculate the numbers, I can see that Brett stands out in every area. He has grown nearly three grade levels in reading and two grade levels in math. I am amazed. When I make the announcement to the class, that Brett has made more growth in reading this year than any other individual, he has the biggest smile that his face can hold, and he is blushing hard through his brown cheeks. I have set many personal goals for myself and achieved them, but nothing has ever been as satisfying as seeing Brett accomplish a yearlong goal for the first time ever.

Brett has not become the perfect model student that I imagined he would be when I met him on the first day of school, but he is truly a reader. He talks about statistics from the sports section and regularly compares and contrasts players and records and histories. He understands that reading is the best way to learn about the world. He began the year reading at a first grade reading level, and he is now reading at an early fifth grade level. His fourth quarter report card contained his highest marks of the year, and his next goal is to get a report card with straight A's. We had many trials along the way, but I know that he now understands that perseverance is required in order to see results.

In a poem describing himself during the final week of writing class he wrote:

I am blue like the sky
I am wild like a horse
I am as good as a trained animal
I am as bright as the sun
I am as smooth as a haircut
I am as small as an ant
I am good in school

Note: Some names have been changed in order to protect the privacy of individuals.

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