![]() I'm still naive, thank goodness, and still hope to make a difference with the teachers I prepare to teach-I just never assume I'm the only one with something to say. Sometimes it's better to close your mouth and open your ears and hear what the kids have to teach you. Once I learned that I wasn't the only one in the room with something worthwhile to teach, I really became a teacher. That's what this book popping up in my Goodreads wanderings makes me realize. Hard lessons to be sure, but critical to my nascent years as a teacher. ![]() ![]() They ate my upper middle class white butt for lunch! But, man did I LEARN from my kids. ![]() ![]() My first year was a pretty miserable failure and I did not achieve my glorified vision of "the Great White non-Hispanic Hope" (Hey, I said I was naive, right?). This is probably more of a reflection than a"review" I read this book when I first started teaching, and my naive and much younger self wanted to be exactly the kind of teacher Pat Conroy had wanted to be-one who worked with children who needed me and whose lives I could touch in some way-only I would do it better of course! My first teaching job plunked me down in a non-air-conditioned overcrowded school in Little Havana (in the heart of the city of Miami, FL for you non-natives) with 100% of my students hailing from Cuba, South America, Puerto Rico, etc. ![]()
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