Author Archives: Taylor Jackson
Dear Amber
Dear Amber,
You are my inspiration. Today, at the career fair, I was impressed with your passion and plan for your future.
Me: “Hey, I noticed that you talked to the visiting psychology professor for awhile. Is that a career you’re interested in?”
You: “Yes ma’am! I think it’d be really great to counsel kids in elementary and middle school. A lot of my friends have been having a hard time, and I like giving them advice. I think I’m pretty good at it too.”
Me: “That’s amazing. You have nearly perfect grades in all your classes – I think the last time I checked, you had averages above a 95 in math, science, reading and social studies. Is that right?”
You: “Yes. I really like school, and I don’t mind working hard.”
Me: “Well, with grades like that and an excellent work ethic, you should check out the University of Texas. That’s where I went to school, and they have a great psychology department. They do a lot of research, and it could be a wonderful place for you to get your degree someday.”
You: “Oh, Miss, I was kind of thinking I’d apply to Harvard…”
Shame on me! Of course you should be thinking about attending an Ivy League university. There is no reason you can’t consider Harvard as a very real possibility for your future.
I wanted to let you know that I emailed one of my mentors in Dallas ISD to find resources that will take your reading and writing to the next level. It’s never too early to start preparing for the rigorous coursework that any university, and especially an Ivy League school, will expect from you.
I’m excited to challenge you and support you as you work on this extra practice.
I can already picture the diploma in your hand, that gorgeous smile on your face and the cap and gown flowing as you stride across the stage some 10 years from now. It’s a long road ahead, but you won’t be walking it alone.
All my love,
-Ms. Jackson
Dear Rodrigo
Dear Rodrigo,
I have to admit, you were driving me crazy in class today.
Clink, clink, clink.
At first, I couldn’t figure out where the noise was coming from.
Clink, clink.
A glimmer of light reflected off something grasped tightly in your hands. Frustrated, I walked over to see that you were playing with a stack of nickels, dimes and quarters.
“Rodrigo, put the money away, or it’s going to be mine.”
“Eleven dollars, Miss!” You whispered excitedly as the coins clinked and clanked into a plastic bag. “How much longer until the book fair?”
Thirty-three minutes later, I watched as you and your classmates scoured the shelves of shiny books, dug through the junky pencils and erasers that look like iPhones, and plowed through piles of pens that light up and make noise.
“15 minutes left” I announced to the class.
You pulled a book off the shelf and leafed through it gingerly. Checking the price, I noticed you shake your head and put it back. You did this three more times before spotting the discount table. Snatching a book, you eyed it eagerly, and with five minutes left at the fair, marched proudly to the check out.
Clink, clink, clink. You counted out each nickel, quarter and dime with care and pride, beaming when you heard the total price.
“I still have six dollars and forty-one cents!” You cried and raced back to the poster section of the store.
You were the last student at the fair.
“Rodrigo, we really need to go,” I stressed.
“Aha!” you exclaimed, pulling a burnt-orange University of Texas poster from the pile. “Ms. Jackson, LOOK! Don’t you love it?”
I smiled, “Yes! It’s awesome. Now let’s hurry! We gotta get you back to class.”
“Wow, Miss, I even have 27 cents left over!” Without hesitation, you plunked the change in the donation box, becoming the only student in the entire school to donate so far.
We walked into the hallway.
“Here you go!” Beaming, you handed me the poster.
“Do you want me to hold this until we get back to class?” I asked, confused.
“No, Miss, I bought it for you!” You almost skipped with excitement.
“Oh, Rodrigo, that is so thoughtful, but you should really keep it! Your parents will probably wonder what you bought today. Didn’t they give you the money to spend at the book fair?”
“No, Miss, I earned it.”
“What do you mean? Is this your allowance?”
“Not my allowance. I help my uncle with his roofing business. He usually doesn’t have any cash, so he pays me in coins.”
This gift is so meaningful to me. Thank you for spending your hard-earned money on a poster for my classroom. I admire your generosity and am honored to be the teacher of such a hard working and considerate young man.
All my love (and Hook ’em, Horns!),
-Ms. Jackson
Dear Irma
Dear Irma,
Thank you for helping me set up my classroom before school this morning. I enjoyed our conversation and am honored that you consider me a big sister.
I have an idea! Would you like to start staying after school with me on Wednesdays to talk about the changes that are going on at home? I know we didn’t have a lot of time this morning to talk about your parents’ divorce, and I want to make sure you have a safe place to process the important things that are going on in your life outside of school.
I am so thankful that you are in my class this year. You are such a joy to teach. Looking forward to Wednesday, “little sis!”
All my love,
-Ms. Jackson
From Teresa
Dear DeMorris
Dear DeMorris,
Will you let me in your brain? I don’t know how to teach you best. You deserve an excellent education, and right now I’m falling short of the teacher I need to be to provide that for you.
How do I keep you engaged? Ok, that’s polite teacher talk for wondering how I keep you from rolling on the floor and making hurricane noises during my lesson.
I suspect that you are bored. I’ve tried giving you more challenging work. You speed through it in the first 10 minutes of class. And it’s usually correct. Not that I have time to check it for accuracy in the middle of class when the 33 other students in the room are clamoring for my help and attention.
I have tried giving you a separate schedule and warnings. “Class ends in 15 minutes, you need to start packing up your stack of books.” By the way – I love that you love to read, but you do not need to carry the entirety of your personal library in your arms every day. Let’s limit the armload to two books from now on.
“Class ends in 10 minutes, please start packing up your papers and your agenda.” I always say this to you, individually, not making a scene, simply giving you extra time to begin organizing your papers. I know that’s important to you, and I want you to not feel rushed and frustrated.
“Class ends in 5 minutes, please start packing up your pencils and pens.” Usually you are still reading silently at your desk, having not followed any of my personal directions for you. Also, typically at this point in class, Jerome is skipping around the room, Agustin is flicking little wads of paper at Adriana and at least three other students are talking when we are supposed to be packing up silently.
“DeMorris, please line up by the door, so we can transition out of class in a timely manner.” Nothing. As if concrete holds you to your chair. Why do you do this every day? You miss an average of an hour and a half of math class every week by sitting still and mute in my classroom for 15 minutes after everyone else has left. Not to mention that I waste an hour and a half of my patience and energy coaxing, threatening and demanding that you pack up and walk to your next class.
Your mother and your uncle are getting frustrated. They can’t keep coming up to school in the middle of their workday to discipline you.
I want to gain your trust, DeMorris. I want to challenge you, to engage you in my lesson or maybe just a conversation about the latest book you’ve read. I need you to let me in, so that you can learn something new this year. I can’t stand to watch you stagnate in your own stubbornness.
All my love,
-Ms. Jackson
Dear M’adri
Dear M’adri,
I am so sorry about your loss. I know how close you were with your grandfather, and in the brief time I got to know him from the carpool line, I always enjoyed his kind spirit and warm smile. My thoughts are with your family in this difficult time.
I know you are worried about missing work while you’re gone. I have attached the assignments you will miss to this letter. Part of your homework is to write an acrostic poem with the letters of your name. I made an example for you below. Feel free to use any of the words I chose for you or to change them.
M’ADRI – an acrostic poem
Mature – a leader, a reader, this scholar sets the bar. Her sensibility and hard work will get her far.
Athletic – She’s the school’s goalie, and one of only three, 6th grade ladies to make the final team.
Dyslexic – Owning her challenges like taunts from a rival, this scholar defies the odds of reading and writing survival. The experts say she will be reluctant to read, while she ignores their predictions and volunteers to lead. For her, it might be more difficult and take more time, but this inspiring student loves to make her poetry rhyme.
Resilient – Tough is her middle name; determination is her game. All she does is win, because she never gives up or gives in.
Intelligent – Admired by her peers for her book knowledge, no one doubts this scholar is on the path to college.
I hope you feel encouraged, because every word in this poem is true. I’m here for you when you return to school, and in the mean time, you have my phone number if you want to talk.
All my love,
-Ms. Jackson
Dear Cristofer
Dear Cristofer,
Do you have Alex’s pencil? I know this is a bizarre question for me to ask in the middle of your exam, and I am so sorry for interrupting you. A strange series of events has happened in my classroom over the last few minutes, and I need your help sorting it all out:
Just before class started, Alex entered the room and sat down heavily in his desk. He looked around frantically, breathing hard, like he had sprinted to class.
Alex [calling out loudly while the rest of the class is starting their Do Now activity]: “Cristofer has my pencil!”
Me [from across the room, helping Adjatay get settled in his desk]: “Cristofer isn’t in the room right now. He’s taking a test with Ms. Jimenez.”
Alex [louder, slightly panicked]: “Cristofer has my pencil!”
Me [slightly annoyed but still calm]: “Do you have another pencil you could use?”
Alex [yelling]: “Cristofer has my pencil!”
Me [swallowing frustration and walking swiftly to the other side of the room]: “Alex, I understand that Cristofer has one of your pencils. Do you have another pencil you can use? I have given out all my extra pencils today.”
Alex [still yelling, although I am standing at his desk]: “Cristofer has my pencil!”
Me [yelling]: “IF YOU SAY THE WORD PENCIL ONE MORE TIME I WILL BREAK EVERY PENCIL IN YOUR PENCIL POUCH!”
Alex: “…But Cristofer has my pencil….”
At this point, I’m not proud to say, I snapped. Emotionally, that is. I certainly tried to snap his pencils, but he was right. There was nothing in his pencil pouch except a half-chewed eraser cap. I rifled through his binder rather dramatically. Needless to say, no one was working on the Do Now anymore.
Recognizing that the entire class was staring at me wide-eyed, I asked if anyone had a pencil they could loan Alex. Suddenly everyone was back to work, eyes on their own papers, no extra pencils in sight.
I’m sending this note with Ethan as a desperate plea. Do you have Alex’s pencil? If not, do you have a pencil he can borrow? I’m sorry to interrupt your test, but we’re in a minor state of emergency here.
All my love,
-Ms. Jackson
From Denzel
Dear Keenan
Dear Keenan,
When you pretend to be what you are not, you become what you pretend to be. You are not a kid who doesn’t care about school. Unfortunately, when you played around on the reading diagnostic, you earned a score so low that you qualified for the Read 180 program. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great program, but you don’t need it.
In your attempt to convince your classmates that you’re cool, you took the easy route: playing dumb. Because of this, you will continue to attend Read 180 instead of staying in my classroom for morning advisory with the boys you are so eager to impress. Shaun tried his best on that reading diagnostic, and he scored above grade level. That’s not just cool, that’s admirable. He’s a leader for the right reasons. You could be too.
This program will reassess your reading level as you take weekly tests. I am challenging you to beat Shaun’s reading level by January. I dare you to be the best reader and leader the 6th grade has seen this year.
All my love,
-Ms. Jackson
P.S. – you should check out Walter Dean Myers. He has several books that I think you would enjoy reading. Start with Scorpions, and if you like it, try Monster next. Both books are in my classroom library.
Rivers & Roads 