Uploaded: April 9, 2001

Jennifer Suesse
TE505: The Study of Children in Diverse & Inclusive Settings Through Observation & Recording
Prof. Ellen Wong
Environmental Study
November 21, 2000

River Middle School Fact Sheet

River Middle School (a pseudonym) is located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, near the East River. One of fourteen public junior-high/middle schools operated by NYC Community District 2, RMS enjoys special status as a "School-Based Option" (SBO) school. As a SBO school, the RMS school community exercises local control over its admissions and hiring criteria. Graduating fifth grade students are selected to attend RMS according to test scores and personal interviews. The admissions committee also considers the school’s commitment to a diverse learning environment by attempting to balance the class ratio by gender, race, and ethnicity. Residents of all five boroughs are represented in the student body. Consequently, although RMS is not a "magnet school" by definition, the selection process yields a student body that generally exceeds city-wide grade-level standards. In addition, teacher’s union regulations are also subject to local membership approval. Thus, the notorious NYC Board of Education’s bureaucracy is slightly modified at RMS.

RMS Overview
 
Location/Neighborhood Manhattan’s Upper-East Side 
Type of School: Public, "School-Based Option" School
School Structure: Middle School, Grades 6-8
Size: Approx. 400 students, 4 classes at each grade level
Student/Teacher Ratio: 28:1 school wide; 35:1 average class size (30:1 in the 8th grade)
Services: Academic, Extra-Curricular, Social 
Student Demographics: Diverse by race, ethnicity, neighborhood, and class; no race or ethnicity enjoys majority status. Approx. 60% female.

Child-Study Subject Specifics
 
Subject: Lena (a pseudonym), a thirteen year-old 8th grader
Class Size: 30 (19 girls, 11 boys)
Family Background: Lives with both parents in one home on 96th and Central Park East; has two brothers.
School Background: Attended "X" Elementary School and has been at RMS since sixth grade.
Source: I, J, and T
(See Exhibit 1for Primary Source Key)
 

I. Introduction: My Place at River Middle School

Walking in through the main front doors of River Middle School on my first day as a student teacher this September, I was greeted by a big hug from my supervising teacher, Garth S., and cheery hellos from both security guards, Cindy and Joy. Although I would discover that RMS could seem over-crowded, confined, noisy and sometimes confusing, this friendly welcome set the tone for my placement in the school. I thoroughly enjoyed my eight weeks among RMS’s eighth graders. I am lucky to call many of the people I met at RMS—both students and teachers—my friends.

While I spent most of my student teaching time in Garth’s eighth grade American Studies classroom, I was also invited to observe and participate in many different activities throughout the school, from one-on-one conferences with children to all-school meetings. Other teachers took me in to observe their classes, attend their field trips, and work with their students; so I felt an unusual freedom to access information as well as a sense of belonging. Thus, in writing this environmental study, I draw upon not only my seven formal observations, but also anecdotes jotted in my student teaching journal, conversations with RMS teachers and students (both informal and formal), and relevant literature to describe the setting for my focused observations of Lena, an eighth grade student in Mr. S’s homeroom.

II: Environment

Welcome to the Neighborhood

When I learned that I would be working at RMS, I wrote to Garth and asked him to tell me a little bit about himself as a teacher and how he had come to work at this particular school. His answer stuck with me, even after I left my placement, because I think he captured the environment—in all its dimensions—so succinctly. He wrote:

[RMS] is a special place because almost the entire staff is dedicated to the idea that a teacher must always remain a student. Our school thrives in squalor conditions. Our building is 105 years old and is heated with coal! We are understaffed and overbooked but we work hard. Perhaps most importantly our student body really has no ethnic majority. All races, creeds, etc. are represented. This makes for lively debate in class. What surprised me most in reading this description was that it fit none of my stereotypes about the neighborhood. RMS is located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, near the East River, and I had assumed that meant the students would be white, middle-upper class, and snobby. Of course, I knew my stereotypes were misguided, but since I only just moved to New York in January, my knowledge about the RMS neighborhood was mostly limited to offhand remarks made by friends, a few strolls along the Museum Mile, and guidebook descriptions like the Manhattan (1994) one excerpted below: For a certain species of class-conscious New Yorkers, there is simply no other place to live. The West Side is too parvenu, too bourgeois; the Village has all those neo-bohemian flavorings which makes it unseemly; everyplace else is out of the question. Which leaves only the elite East Side. Since early in the century it has been the place for Manhattanites who feel themselves defined by their addresses. According to the 1990 census, the blocks between 59th and 110th streets, from Fifth Avenue to the river, retain the highest per capita income of any urban quarter in the world. Not surprisingly, the area is thick with fine restaurants, boasts a world-class shopping strip in the boutiques and stores of Madison Avenue, and attracts other businesses whose purpose is to serve the rich (p. 200). Nothing could be further from what I discovered at RMS. Students represent all five boroughs, and that is just the tip of the diversity iceberg as Garth’s email suggests. Few students in my classes came from upper-class families, as I learned that most upper-class children are sent to private schools. From my own observations of the sidewalk traffic on York Avenue, the neighborhood is perhaps more affluent than average as the guidebook would indicate, but not overwhelmingly so. Also, although I never took notes, my sense is that most of the people I passed on the sidewalk in the morning were white, but people of other races were by no means absent from the streets.

In the morning, the block facing York Avenue is bustling with activity: commuters en route to work, taxis honking at the long lines of traffic, and crossing guards policing the movement. Almost everyone who can’t walk to school, comes via a complex amalgamation of public transportation. No subway stop is nearby, so the buses are crammed with children making their way to school. As they arrive, they pass a wide array of delis, laundromats, groceries, and cheap pizza joints surrounding RMS. The latter are particularly popular with the students, as Lena herself noted when she described lunchtime, "Well, everyone eats pizza and it’s about where and who you eat pizza with" (I, p3). A branch of the New York Public Library stands across the street from the school, as does a US Post Office station. Behind the school, down by the East River, is a small park, where many of the students play outside during PE or lunchtime recess. Other nearby streets are packed with residences, a combination of townhouses and high-rise buildings dating back to the middle of the century (or earlier). There are a few trees on the sidewalk, although not many. The sidewalks, like all I’ve tread upon throughout NYC, are grimy, though usually swept clean of trash, and display evidence of the local canine population.

Students wait outside for the brightly-painted red front doors to open, sometimes arriving 30-40 minutes before they will be allowed inside. At 8:30am, Cindy and Joy allow the hoards of sixth, seventh, and eighth graders to make their way up the five flights of stairs (whew!) to the "Big Gym" (See Exhibit 2: RMS Floor Plan) where they will wait until the science teacher whistles for the school day to begin at 8:45am. Then, they will stream out into the hallways and find their way to homeroom, which is called "house."

Physical Environment: A Maze of Narrow Hallways and Classrooms Packed with Lively Adolescents

Trying to capture the essence of the physical environment within the RMS building is a daunting task, as it took easily ? of my tenure there for me to have a confident sense of where things were. As I noted in my very first observation, RMS faces extremely "limited floorspace" (O1, p1). RMS occupies the most of the fourth and all of the fifth floors of this old school building, while an unrelated public elementary school fills the remaining space. The building is a relic from another age. Ornate metal curlicues decorate the staircase, as does work from the first and second graders. At the entrance, there is no sign of RMS, except a small letter of welcome posted on a bulletin board. Upon my first visit, I remember thinking that if Garth hadn’t met me downstairs, I would have had no idea that I was in the right place. My advisor echoed this sentiment when she mentioned in passing, "I get lost every time I come here."

Part of the confusion stems from sharing space with the elementary school. The cafeteria (located on the ground floor) and gym facilities (located on the fifth floor) are shared. I do not know the policy regarding the recess yard. Even on the fifth floor, the "Big Gym" is most often used by the elementary school; in fact, until this year, RMS was not permitted to use that space at all. The RMS classrooms on the fourth floor are squeezed in and around unused storage rooms, unrelated elementary classrooms, and a myriad of staircases. Some rooms are labeled, most are not. Early in my placement, I found myself wondering how the sixth-grade students learned their way around; I guessed that "the fact that they travel in packs, walking from class to class in big clumps" helped them make sense of the layout (J, September 19, 2000).

Narrow hallways serve only to magnify the complexity of navigating. Frequently when RMS students are changing classes, they physically are unable to move in the hallways due to the congestion. Three people standing shoulder-to-shoulder can just barely fit across the hallway. Thus, everyone spends a considerable amount of time either waiting for the hallways to clear or walking around another way (i.e. down one set of stairs and up another) trying to avoid traffic jams. Every teacher has developed places for students to line up in the hallway (which may not be right outside their room due to lack of wall space) to minimize such blockages. For example, whenever students have a class in one of the four rooms past the Small Gym on the fifth floor (including Garth’s room), they line up along a pre-assigned wall in the small gym. Due to this limited width, there are no lockers lining the hallways. Instead, as discussed in my first observation, banks of lockers are housed within various classrooms. Unfortunately, there are not enough lockers for all the eighth graders, so Lena’s class will enjoy locker privileges only until January. Then, they will be forced to carry their books around in their enormous backpacks, although they will continue to hang their coats on pegs inside a closet in Garth’s room. On a positive note, the hallways are a place where teachers display students work. I myself helped construct a bulletin board to share some student quotes and photos from an eighth-grade classroom seminar on "The Tools of the Historian."

Small classrooms, which may hold classes of up to 39 students, contribute to the sense of over-crowding and confinement. Trying to address the individual needs of large groups of students can be difficult for teachers in any environment, and RMS’s small spaces only magnify this challenge. As one sixth grade teacher put it, "To me, the only issue in teaching is class-size" (J, October 5, 2000). The 35:1 student/teacher ratio indicates that class size is a hot issue at RMS. Lena’s section of the eighth grade, which has only 30 students, is considered an exceptionally small class. This echoes Courtney Cazden’s (1988) observation that "Classrooms are among the most crowded human environments."

Most of the classrooms on the fifth floor, with the exception of one science room which is larger and equipped with tables and a sink, have a similar layout, as described in my first observation:

All the classrooms on the fifth floor are packed with desks, and room 501 is no exception. The room is not large, but about 35 metal student desks are lined up in three double-desk-width rows and there are lockers lining the room. There are two small windows, both of which are open. Fans are blowing in the room. There are also two computer tables in the back of the room. There are only a few posters on the walls—since it is the beginning of the school year, most walls are ready to receive work. (O1, p1) All the classrooms are equipped with bookshelves, a few computers, blackboards, bulletin boards, and clocks—which themselves contribute to an ongoing challenge: time is not standardized across the classrooms. Evidently the clocks are not connected and do not run consistently, so each teacher must estimate the "average" RMS time and begin and dismiss their classes accordingly. Surprisingly, this seems to work relatively well. The eighth grade teachers, for example, regularly standardize their watches at their weekly team meeting.

Another unexpected feature of the RMS classroom environment is the irregular ringing of bells at odd times. Although I never found out why the bells ring (I’ve never been in an elementary school that used bells; and RMS doesn’t use them either), a loud electronic one sounds at 45-60 minute intervals throughout the day. What is even more unnerving than the simple ringing of the bell, is that neither RMS eighth graders nor their teachers seem to notice the sound. Indeed, they are so used to it, they can continue conversations as though the sound never happened.

Indeed, this ability to ignore distracting noises and to adjust gracefully to the limited space was a theme throughout my observations, as illustrated by these excerpts:

Both [Lena] and Y remain intent on their conversation, despite the increasing noise in the classroom. People are moving around, and at one point Lena has to get up so some of her classmates can squeeze past her desk, but she remains focused on Y’s comments—both listening and responding despite the interruptions" (O4, p2-3).

As the class settles in, I notice that the level of ambient noise in the hallway (the gym is right through the corridor) is loud enough to be distracting (O6, p2).

[T]he entire 8th grade at [RMS] seems very adjusted to the limited space in all these rooms. The kids move around each other, pushing in seats, stepping over bags, bumping around without a fuss. They seem unusually comfortable with having a very limited amount of personal space. There has been lots of jostling, but no outbursts about it (N6, p4).
 

 Of course, sometimes the noise gets in the way of what is going on. During a seminar discussion in American Studies one day, the noise outside the window caused by screaming elementary children in the yard combined with drilling and hammering from the stonemasons who were working on a nearby roof, meant that we were yelling in the room just to be heard (J, September 25, 2000).

Another issue at RMS is access to materials. In terms of facilities for study outside the traditional classroom, while there is an art room, there is no computer lab where a whole class can work on computers together, no music room or access to instruments, and no library. In CA and in American Studies, each student has their own copy of books (e.g. the plays Lena’s was reading in Observation 4), although sometimes they are provide their own or borrow a copy from the public library. For teachers, there is a copier in the office and a few printers scattered throughout the school (Garth has a fancy laser printer in his room and therefore is often visited by colleagues).

Finally, I cannot conclude a section on the physical environment at RMS without including a postscript regarding the sheer number of school hours per week Lena sits at her desk. In five out of the six observations (the sixth being during a supplementary extra-help session), Lena sat for a majority—if not all—of the period. In the following excerpts, Lena somehow seems to be always behind a desk or table:

With surprising ease and agility given the limited floorspace, this approximately 5’ tall girl makes her way across the room to sit next to A., a boy from Lena’s homeroom. She leans on the metal chair, turning herself to lean back on the metal desk with her legs crossed (right over left) to the back of the chair (O1, p1).

The students are all seated in their assigned seats." (O2, p1)

She releases A’s hands and leans down, pulls out her chair, and sinks into it…. Lena sits on her right leg tucked under her on her blue metal desk chair, and smoothes a thumb across her lip, smearing something off. She sits for a moment, and then reaches back to put a barrette into her hair…Then, she leans her right elbow on the back of her chair, and turns her head to look outside in the hallway. Her right hand moves from the back of the chair to the seat of her chair, with the middle finger outstretched and the remaining fingers curled underneath. She continues sitting on her foot. Then, Lena spins around in her seat, leaning her right elbow on the desk.…Lena shifts both of her legs to rest on the floor, balancing lightly on the tips of her toes inside those heavy boots (O3, p1-2).

Lena is sitting at her desk in the middle of the classroom (O4, p1).

The actual class takes place in the room where I observed groupwork a few weeks ago, and Lena sits in the same seat at the center of the room (O6, p1).
 

 These observations indicate that RMS’s limited floorspace has significant repercussions for its adolescent occupants. Unlike the teachers, who stand in front of the room or move about conferring with individual learners, RMS students sit immobilized (or as close to it as possible) for hours of the day. This directly contrasts with Stevenson’s (1998) argument that "the need of young adolescents for movement—especially the freedom to move around the classroom—should be recognized as a legitimate response to the bodily changes that are occurring during this developmental period....Opportunities for such vigorous exercise...should be part of every day" (p. 95). Within the confines of the fourth and fifth floors, the necessary facilities for physical fitness are not available.

School Philosophy: A Learning School

Despite all of these physical challenges of limited space, noise, and over-crowding, the ambiance of RMS conveys a healthy respect for children’s learning. Chris Stevenson (1998) uses the term ambiance to "refer to the essence of the whole school. What is the interpersonal climate? the intellectual climate? the ethical climate? the physical culture? In the healthiest of settings, the responses to those queries are products of partnerships that exist between the adults and students. Both generations listen to each other, make necessary compromises, and accomplish joint ventures" (p. 164). While what children’s learning looks like in practice at RMS will be described more completely in Section III, the RMS community chooses a student’s words to represent the school’s philosophy on their Internet homepage, which indicates to me that children’s learning is a priority at the school. The homepage notes:

One student put it very well when she said, "[RMS] is a ‘learning school’ and the teachers here make sure that every student who steps into their classrooms walks out knowing more than when they walked in." This statement is consistent with NYC District 2’s mission statement, "To develop a highly accountable PreK to 12 learning community, one in which teachers receive ongoing expert professional development in order to help students reach the highest performance standards in all areas of curriculum through expert assessment-driven instruction" (BOE recruiting document). This emphasis on learning communities working toward assessment is apparent throughout the institution, and reflects the history of the school. Since Garth was my main source for this information, I will quote extensively from that interview to explain how the historical evolution of RMS impacts the school ethos at present: The school provides academic, extra-curricular and social services to our students. The academic focus is on literacy and math literacy, by which I mean that students are trained not only to solve problems but to ask questions about their work. After school, we offer physical programs like the track club and extra help sessions including test-prep programs.

The school was created eight years ago as a magnet school, but over time the Board of Education has introduced a new leadership structure. We are now a School Based Option school, and a team-led school in theory. That means that two teams (the School Leadership Team and the Chapter Community Team) make decisions about our school. Representatives from all facets of our community: staff, including both teachers and administrative/support staff, serve alongside parents and students. Essentially this means that we can vote as a community to opt out of a large portion of UFT regulations.

This is essentially a key for our success. We have the ability to set the parameters by which we accept students. In addition, we are not susceptible to UFT bizarre tenured teacher regulations. We are able to handle our hiring decisions internally as well as implement our own "segregation" process. By this I mean two things. First, this is our way of skimming off the best students from the city. We have rules about ensuring a diverse student body according to gender, race, and ethnicity, but in nearly all cases, our students score at or above grade level in both verbal and math tests. Perhaps 5% of our student body comes to us as a result of special "favors" or political situation, but most of our students come from all over the city. The second type of segregation…the "SBO" status allows us to create a distance between us and the Board of Education. (T, p1)
 

 Garth’s description of the historical and political climate at RMS rang true with what I heard from others, and what I observed. Early in my placement, I recorded some impressions of the staff and institution in general: They seem very young, though not inexperienced. Not jaundiced, but caring. Energetic. All white (at least all but one I’ve met so far on the teaching staff). …Seem very smart, very on top of themselves. Not sure how well organized an institution it is. Seems like it is in the early growth stages. Lots of energy, but not necessarily so many systems in place to ensure that things don’t fall through the cracks. We had one double-booked room today and another 15 minutes spent looking for the ? hour humanities meeting…which was in the principal’s office…but to be fair, it is the first week of school and the [positive] behavior the kids displayed today far outweighs any trivialities (J, September 12, 2000). The way I really began to understand how the formal mission statements and rhetorical arguments impacted children’s learning at RMS was by attending teacher’s meetings and observing children in their classrooms (described in Section III). I was welcome to attend many staff meetings at RMS, both formal (including whole school meetings, 8th grade team meetings, and Humanities team meetings) and informal hallway encounters. I also attended some union meetings.

Logistics were often the subject of big group meetings: when can we schedule this? who can cover that? Race relations and multiculturalism were also a major topic, as that was the focus of RMS’s staff development for the year. While I was there, reading groups and other study sessions were forming to talk about issues facing a white staff teaching a racially diverse group of students (J, October 2, 2000). Issues of child abuse and violence were also touched upon in large group settings.

Small group meetings were even more fascinating. At Humanities team meetings, the three teachers talked about two issues while I was at RMS: curriculum development and the mechanics of teaching and assessing group process. Weekly 8th grade team meetings included the four core 8th grade teachers—American Studies, Science, Math, and Communication Arts, affectionately called "CA"—in addition to a liaison from the Principal’s office and occasionally the two language teachers (both French and Spanish) or the guidance counselor or special educator). Topics discussed were wide-ranging: curriculum overlaps were mentioned and field trip logistics ironed out during "minutiae minutes," but issues involving group dynamics or individual children were usually the focus of these sessions (J, September 12, 2000). For example, I learned about Lena’s father’s cancer in one 8th grade team meeting:

This morning, I learned that Lena’s father has just been diagnosed with cancer—and evidently the prognosis is not good, something about asbestos and the lungs—so I was anxious for her. Although the 8th grade teachers observed that Lena’s class participation remained positive, I wasn’t sure what to expect. It seems her uncle died of something similar not too long ago. I wonder how she will cope with this (N4, p3). In another session, the teachers discussed how to deal with a section that was not participating adequately. They talked very concretely and gave each other suggestions. The CA teacher said that he was "trying waiting for individual students to answer (usually teachers wait only 3 seconds) and being really intense. No shrugs allowed." Another teacher explained how she was using students to record class participation, and having the participation checker announce students who hadn’t yet spoken halfway through class. As the teachers discussed these issues, another one asked, "Maybe the issue is not just about paying attention, but do they feel safe to speak?" (J, October 29, 2000). These kind of debates were typical.

Finally, union meetings were filled with thorny issues. While I was at RMS, the staff decided to register a class-size grievance on behalf of the sixth grade, which had two sections with 39 students each. Wrestling with how to alleviate this strain was the topic of many sessions. The administration was not welcome to attend these meetings, in accordance with regulations. While the meetings were difficult, the staff was not overly pessimistic or cynical. A spirit of problem-solving was present.

In sum, my observations of the RMS staff and environment would support Garth’s assertion that "almost the entire staff is dedicated to the idea that a teacher must always remain a student….We are understaffed and overbooked but we work hard." One of the most frustrating parts of describing the RMS environment is that the physical space seems to counteract the learning community atmosphere the teachers are striving so hard to create. Yet, they forge ahead despite five flights of stairs, narrow hallways, cramped classrooms, and inexplicable bells. I hope their intrepid spirit—which made my student teaching experience there such a pleasure—is not obscured by this description.

III: Classroom Atmosphere

Expectations and Values: Looking at Lena’s Schedule

In reflecting on the question "What features of the environment give the strongest clues as to what kind of behavior is expected and what learning is valued?" I find myself referring to Lena’s schedule (see Exhibit 3 for a copy). Especially in the eighth grade, the school focuses on learning sufficient material to gain entrance to prestigious high-schools. Students are painfully aware of the high school entrance exams and admissions process. Their anxiety was tangible when, during my first observation, high school information was handed out, "…which totally changed the dynamic of the room" (N1, p4). Lena herself went from "zoned out" to "focused on her book" (O1, p2). A few minutes later, I saw her "speak casually to her friends, who are reading the blue pages in the high school guide. They are intent, and she leans in to listen to the conversation. She is engaged in what is happening" (O1, p3). A week later, I had a chance to speak with Lena and her friends about the high school process: "I ask them if they are worried about it. One student answers negatively, but Lena looks at me and says, ‘Yes, I am worried about it. But it’s not just choice, it’s getting accepted. There are 2,068[?]eighth graders in NYC and there are only 35 places at the lab school, for example’" (O2, p4).

The pressure to compete and excel is evidenced by Lena’s complicated schedule. In an attempt to cover the required material while also balancing the ideals of block-scheduling, RMS has compromised on routine. For Lena, no two days of the week are the same. Each morning, while supervising Lena’s classmates at their lockers, I would overhear them asking each other, "What do we have today?" "Do we have Spanish this morning?" Trying to keep track of the schedule occupied everyone’s energy, including the teachers. At RMS, students are held accountable for their own learning, which is developmentally appropriate, as Stevenson (1998) notes: "By the time students reach the middle grades, they have figured out for themselves how school works. They know (or believe they know) what they can and cannot do, particular teachers’ soft spots and limits, how far to push the rules, who can be counted on for help, and so on" (p. 158). Furthermore, extra-help sessions, like the one discussed in my seventh observation, are often offered during recess time. In my view, play-time is not high on the RMS agenda.

Not only is the schedule challenging—both logistically and academically—but there is also no time allotted for passing between classes. Students are expected to leave and travel between classes promptly. There is no time for socializing or even going to the bathroom. RMS students are supposed to be focused on school. In my third observation, I noticed that this restricted travelling time has not been completely successful when I wrote: "The homeroom has returned to their "house" after lunch. Due to controversial new lunchroom dismissal policies, nearly everyone arrives late for the five minute homeroom session before their next class" (O3, p1). Arriving late seemed to be a pervasive problem—with many valid excuses that made invalid lateness more difficult to address—which was strangely ignored. In my observation of Lena’s Spanish class, which takes place literally next door to her homeroom, I noticed that students "straggle[d] into the room" (O6, p1).

Moreover, as I noted in my journal, teachers "don’t see all their kids every day; which seems disruptive to their routine...but I guess it allows them greater flexibility in offering more courses" (J, September 25, 2000). The lack of routine and rapid switching between classes could be seen as an example of how John Taylor Gatto sees traditional schools teaching a lesson of indifference. In his scathing critique of traditional schools Gatto (1992) argues:

I teach children not to care too much about anything, even though they want to make it appear that they do. How I do this is very subtle. I do it by demanding that they become totally involved in my lessons, jumping up and down in their seats with anticipation, competing vigorously with each other for my attention…But when the bell rings I insist they drop whatever it is we have been doing and proceed quickly to the next work station (p. 6). While there are no bells at RMS, Lena must make swift transitions—five to six per day—from one subject to another. As a student teacher in my first weeks, I felt "a bit overwhelmed by the middle school scene. Kids arrive in a jumble, and it’s hard to keep track of where they are coming from" (J, September 25, 2000).

Supporting Lena’s Learning or Boring Her? Different Styles of Teaching at RMS

I saw RMS teachers trying all different strategies to compensate for these challenges presented by scheduling, timing, and transitions. For example, I observed Garth almost daily giving students a 3-5 minute break to collect themselves, socialize or run to the bathroom. Other lessons I observed incorporated a mix of lecture, whole-group, and small-group discussion. Different approaches served Lena differently. In our interview, she noted:

Like right now, school’s pretty boring. In math especially, we’re doing graphs. Which is boring. Today we started working with calculators, and that’s okay. CA is boring too. Mr. L talks a lot. He likes talking, so we don’t have much really to do. R [refers to the guidance counselor by first name] says if I have the ability, why am I not getting the best grades, but nobody really wants to spend the effort.…Spanish is pretty good….we’re doing interesting projects. Mrs. S is very strict and she moves fast. Right now, she has us teaching the class to each other. I like having friends teach you. We’re reviewing stuff for the proficiency exams, which is kind of boring, but the kids make up the worksheets and teach the lessons which is cool. Also, Mrs. S is also teaching us some stuff separately. CA, though, is really boring. It drags on for an hour or an hour-and-a-half. Mr. L talks for like a really, really long time. It’s tiring…The other day, he wanted us to talk about a Goethe…It would have been a good discussion, but he spent the whole time giving instruction." (I, p2-3). In my observations, this boredom was evidenced through fidgeting and restless behavior, especially during administrative tasks. For example, I wrote, "Once the entire class has filed in, the teacher Mr. S. begins to talk about assigning lockers for the class. Lena appears to be zoned out, but looks over when Mr. S. points to the lockers he will be assigning" (O1, p2). Later, during a recycling discussion in homeroom, I noted, "[Lena] fidgeted throughout this last class period of the day, as did most of her classmates. They have a long day to be still" (N2, p5). In a subsequent CA class, I watched Lena working with Mr. L, the teacher she said "likes talking." My observation began with a description of the context: Lena’s class is about halfway into a ninety minute English class. The first 35-40 minutes have been taken up by a whole-class discussion about how to conduct effective book talks, the first of which took place on the previous day. The class listed some of the challenges they faced in groupwork (e.g. "equal" participation; finding relevance to real life). They are now about to spend approximately thirty minutes discussing their plays in small, pre-assigned groups. Lena’s group is discussing Ibsen’s The Doll House. There are two people other than Lena in her group: C, a girl who has lost her voice due to a cold, and Y, a boy who seems to be struggling a bit with this conversation. Due to the noise level in the room (there are nine book talks taking place simultaneously), it is very difficult to discern Lena’s exact words. However, it provides an opportunity to observe her interacting directly with her peers without teacher mediation (O4, p1). I recorded Lena reactions while Mr. L spoke to the class: She leans her chin on her hands, which are propped up on the desk and stifles a yawn. Then she leans her nose onto her hands. One hand peeps out from the sweatshirt, and goes back to smooth her pony tail. Then Lena reaches both hands into the air for a stretch, before propping her elbows on the desk and leaning her cheek against her hands. She then strokes her cheek lightly with one finger, and turns to face the blackboard (O4, p2). Although Lena demonstrated that she was paying attention in the above observation, she did not appear to be as engaged in learning during the large-group lectures, as she did during the small-group or independent work described below. Two examples illustrate her preference for working in more personalized settings: (1) later during the same CA class, in a small "book talk" group and (2) her description of an immersion ethics course she took this summer at Hamilton College in Clinton, NY. In the first case, which follows minutes after the exhibition of boredom, Lena: …leans her head against her hand again, nodding slightly as she talks. She sits up in her chair a bit, and turns to look at Y, who is speaking. She rubs her neck, and pushes her glasses up on her face. Her hand rubs her face, and she leans forward focusing her gaze intensely on her groupmates. She then says to Y, "If you say it, you have to support it." She squares here shoulders, and smiles slightly as she looks at Y. She puts her hands on the desk, and her eyes follow Y as he opens his book. Her pen taps lightly on her copy of the play which lies in front of her on her desk. As Y explains his point, Lena nods and shakes her head from side to side. Her hands tuck back inside her sweatshirt. Then, I hear her say, "…that doesn’t say anything. … But it’s redundant." (O4, p 2). Later, I reflected: "I was glad to see Lena interacting with such confidence and poise in English class. Although previous observations have indicated that she participates in group discussions, she was leading this small group book chat. Articulate and informed, she was pushing her own thinking and that of her group" (N4, p3). Then, during our interview, when I asked Lena to talk about the kind of learning that Lena likes best, she referred to her ethics course at Hamilton College which, instead of lecture and small group-work, focused on writing and debate. Lena commented: The class itself was really good. Imagine ten kids, having a lot of fun. If I could be in class with only my friends and work that hard together…the time just went so fast. It was totally different. We wrote papers, held debates, talked about so many theories, I usually don’t like school. Here it’s mostly tedious work, not work that helps you learn. But that was fun (I, p5). This tension between tedium and fun reminds me of the differing norms and expectations facing Donna Carlyle, the subject of one of Phelan (1998) et. al’s piercing child-studies. Lena’s comment suggests that she too brings "significant skills…with her to school…[which] are rendered irrelevant and even inappropriate by aspects of her school environment" (p. 105). Like Donna Carlyle and Sonia Gonzales (another Phelan et. al case subject), Lena seems to be moving across "different worlds." While she demonstrates compliance with the norms, values, beliefs, expectations, and actions required of RMS students, her comments (and attire) suggest that she considers herself to be bridging a gap in order to do so. Lena’s quote suggests that friendships and intellectual compatibility are important to her learning style. However, as at Phelan’s Huntington High, most classroom relationships at RMS "while friendly, are cordial, formal, and structured around the production of typical academic work….Classrooms are organized to promote and distinguish individual advancement" (ibid). For Lena’s taste, the opportunity to immerse herself in an intense, theoretical debates does not happen enough at RMS. The competitive environment and content-driven lessons preclude more free-form exchanges.

This is not to say that such discussions never happened. I did observe a number of classes in which "seminars" were held. In these formalized discussions, some portion of the class (often half) moved to the center of the room and had permission to speak without a teacher’s interference on a specific topic. The remaining students were responsible for recording what was said (J, October 22, 2000). Lena’s quote would indicate, however, that these opportunities were insufficient in meeting her needs as a learner.

A "Learning School" for Lena? Reflecting on RMS Philosophy in Practice

Evaluating the connections between RMS’s philosophy of a "learning school" and Lena’s learning is difficult. As evidenced above, some of the structures support Lena’s learning style, while others feel "tedious." Some of the assignments allow her to stretch beyond the confines of the room, while other times she sits in a lecture fiddling with the bracelets on her arm, her electric-blue hair, or her sweatshirt.

I had the good fortune to obtain a copy of an essay titled "On A Crusade: Lena’s Quest for her Separate Identity" that Lena wrote for her American Studies class. In the following excerpt containing one of my favorite lines, Lena demonstrates her ability to take a personal biography assignment (which was supposed to be written from the historian’s third person perspective) far beyond the requirements to wrestle with important issues like the purpose of life, her internal motivation, and social woes:

Especially during the time she started middle school to the present, she has been on a crusade of sorts. She has spent so much time and energy trying to discover who she is and how she affects others….I have found that Lena may have finally found her niche for her own identity and personality within this large melee of teenage confusion. To understand who she is, one must understand the quote first used in the introduction. "I am uninhibited, but with dignity, if that’s possible." (C, p6). I cannot begin to conclude what role RMS has played in this transformation, but I submit that Lena’s willingness to share such a personal observation with a teacher at RMS indicates that the institution is not totally unrelated to her life. Whether or not she thinks she has "friends" at school, a topic to be considered at much greater length in the final paper, Lena seems to be taking at least some parts of her academic life there seriously.

Social Interactions at RMS: Lena’s Peers

The friendly tone that I sensed from my first moment at RMS carries throughout all levels of interactions at the school. Nearly all the encounters I saw between children, teachers, administrative staff were good spirited. Of course, there were conflicts—an "inevitable group dynamic," according to Richard and Patricia Schmuck (1997, p177)—but even the majority of those appeared to be handled with direct communication and a problem-solving approach. In general, people at RMS seem comfortable with each other.

Each of my observations of Lena interacting with other classmates corroborates this interpretation at the child-to-child level, as illustrated by the following excerpts:

…[Lena] looks comfortable as she speaks casually to her friends, who are reading the blue pages in the high school guide. They are intent, and she leans in to listen to the conversation. She is engaged in what is happening (O1, p3).

Lena turns back to the desks, and has her hands on the edge of the desk while she speaks with L, the girl across the table from her. They are sitting and speaking easily, taking turns (O2, p3).

Hips turned toward each other, they are pushing and pulling each other’s arms back and forth and laughing together. Lena’s head tilts back and a grin lightens her face. Knees loose (not locked), the two girls’ enthusiasm radiates around them (O3, p1).

She looks up and down, and laughs at something C [heretofore silent] comments. Lena’s hands clap down on the desk, and she extends her arms, stretching back in her chair. She raises both her hands to make her point, and she is saying something with great expression. She grins, and continues gesturing with both hands. Both she and C nod, and Lena rubs her eyebrow. She pulls at her sweatshirt strings, rhythmically, while continuing to talk (O4, p3).

Now, the student leading the class begins. Lena turns to look up at the board. She fingers her bracelets, and then leans across the space between her desk and the next desk to her left to chat with her friend (O6, p3).

Observations begins with Lena, half-sitting, half-leaning on the edge of a desk, with her feet on the floor, talking to her friend X. She is leaning back, hips perched just on the edge of the metal desk, with one hand supporting herself behind her on the desk. Then another girl comes over to make a threesome. Lena reaches back and picks up a tiny can of Pringles potato chips, listening to her friend's animated talking. They are murmuring, so I cannot hear everything that they say (O7, p1).

 In each of these instances, Lena and her classmates relate easily to one another. They talk casually, finding time within the highly-structured day for socializing. Developmentally, this is important, as Stevenson (1998) notes, "While trying to realize personal identity at this time of life is a highly individual and private process, it doesn’t take place in isolation. Children naturally think about their age mates, making comparisons...Introspection and the gradually emerging self-definition are a highly complex personal process affected by everything the child experiences and contemplates" (p. 82). In short, adolescents need time to be with peers, not only in formal academic environments where their intellectual capacities can be stretched; but also in informal settings where social and emotional skills can be developed. Interestingly, Lena talks about the drawbacks of such peer involvement: Kids in this school are always in each other’s business, which is really annoying. Instead of solving problems, it creates more and makes us more stressed out I think… [B]asically the social situation here is about cliques…It’s the reality of life….There are the kids who listen to rap and hip-hop. It’s pretty racially divided, this is the black group. It really shouldn’t be like that, but that’s the reality. There are also some white guys who want to be in that group, but they aren’t really accepted by the black guys and so they kind of hang out together. The girls’ groups are "cute." I don’t really know if they listen to the same music, and some of the groups aren’t really cliques, because they are composed of girls who are just friends, who aren’t really exclusive, or mean, but they hang out together all the time. Then there are other groups with R & D, who’ve been friends since the sixth grade. They are sort of a clique, and they think they’re popular. Not everyone agrees, though, on who the popular kids are." (I, p2-3) In my few short weeks at RMS, I confess the RMS clique "scene" remained frustratingly opaque to me. Partly, I think this was a result of my intermittent attendance (as a student teacher I was in the building only three times per week), but I think the classroom atmosphere obscured some of these dynamics as well. As one teacher observed in a professional development session, "In class, the kids work well together. In the hallways and cafeteria, they hang out with their friends" (J, October 29, 2000).

Rules, Routines, and Rituals: Lena and Her Teachers

Whatever the racial and social dynamics outside the classroom, the fact that these undertones were hidden when the students were working together with teachers helps to support my sense of mutual respect and friendliness throughout the ranks at RMS. In my observations, teachers seemed to be relating easily to the students. Generally, the two groups seem to treat each other with mutual respect. Their actions remind me of Cazden’s observation, "In classrooms, one person, the teacher, is responsible for controlling all the talk that occurs while class is occasionally in session—controlling not just negatively, as a traffic policeman does to avoid collisions, but also positively, to enhance the purposes of education." At RMS, teachers appear to do a balance of positive and negative mediation.

During discussions, the issues are debated as in the recycling discussion where Garth asked his students, "So, do you think recycling is more or less expensive?" (O2, p3). Students have an active role in assessing their work, as exemplified in Spanish class when Lena "appears to be looking over the homework assignment belonging to one of her groupmates. I think they are grading each other's work" (O6, p2). Not only that, but students even take turns "teaching the class" (O6, p3). The teachers seem to ask a lot of questions, and offer fewer directives. For example, in my second and fourth observations I noted questioning by teachers:

The class is discussing recycling with Mr. S, who is posing questions like "Where should we put the paper recycling bin in this classroom?" "What happens to the trash?" Lena raises her hand, and Mr. S. calls on her….Then Mr. S., asks for volunteers to "monitor the recycling bins and periodically empty them (O2, p2-3).

Then Mr. L, the teacher, says, "I have to interrupt for a sec. I have a good example of the kind of comment we were discussing a moment ago." He then poses a question, and Lena’s hand shoots up. Mr. L calls on another student. Lena lowers her hand, and tucks it into the arm of the enormous navy-blue hooded sweatshirt that she is wearing today (O4, p 1-2).

 I also observed that students seemed very comfortable when teachers were in the room. I witnessed a lot of casual, relaxed behavior, especially during my last observation: This observation takes place during my lunch period. Mr. S and I are holding an extra-help session for 8th grade students, which is informally announced and attended. Mr. S is doing most of the talking, and I am eating my lunch when Lena comes in…Perhaps thirty students visit during the hour of extra help, although there are never more than fifteen students in the room at one time. Lena arrives with a friend. The atmosphere of the room is intensely casual. Students are roaming around the room, lounging on desks…The three girls pass where I am sitting to crowd around Mr. S, the teacher, who up until this point has been surrounded by students (all girls). While they wait for him to finish, Lena stands on one leg, which is bent slightly, with the other black-booted foot… Lena pushes back, lightly, and goes over to Mr. S's desk (which is not where he is sitting) and picks up a pencil from his organizer (O7, p1-2). As eighth graders, Lena and her classmates also demonstrated their familiarity with certain RMS rituals by conforming to general classroom etiquette, including note-taking, during reading periods and classes: Lena’s homeroom (section 803) is beginning their half-hour reading period, which they have every week at this time. At RMS, reading periods are to be used for silent, sustained reading exclusively. Since the students in Lena’s class have had reading periods since they started in sixth grade, they are well-familiar with the routine. They come into the room, take out a book, and within three minutes the room settles into silence (O5, p1).

She raises her hand when another student mentions the "resource recovery plant," but Mr. S. calls on another student sitting on the other side of the room. She puts her hand back down, and then rests both elbows on her desk and puts her chin in her hands (O2, p3).

Ms. S shuts the door and tells the class they have about five more minutes to work. Lena reaches into her bag for a new pen. She then bends back over her work. Now, the room is nearly silent…[Later] Ms. S begins calling on people randomly, to add vocabulary to the list on the board. Lena raises her hand, not all the way, but about a ninety degree angle so her hand is just above her head. Ms. S does not call on her, and the next time hands are raised, Lena's goes up a bit higher than before. While she waits to be called upon, she tucks her hair behind her left ear (O6, p2-4).

Ms. S continues to address the class in a combination of Spanish and English. Suddenly, Lena sits up sharply and exchanges papers with someone next to her. Ms. S begins calling on students, as they recite the answers to the homework, which seems to be a list of adjectives describing people. Ms. S points to subsequent students, calling on people in rows around the room like an S. Lena's left hand rests quietly in her notebook. When Ms. S gets to Lena, she calls out querte, strong. The classmate who is checking homework arrives at Lena's side, and she points out her completed assignment…Then, Lena leans over to get her binder out of her bag, and flips through it sharply—evidently looking for, and finding something specific. Then she leans back over to take notes (O6, p3).

As a non-Spanish speaker, I was more aware than usual of what implicit communication was taking place in the room. Everyone seemed to know the rituals and settled in easily to the routine of working silently at the beginning and then going around the room announcing vocabulary. Ms. S did very little directing, but mostly facilitated speaking in turn (N6, p4).

 Teacher moderation is a theme that runs through these different interactions between teachers and students. Although students play an active role in class, they rarely seem to have a chance to speak without first getting permission from a teacher. In fact, Garth even asked the class to tone down when assigning lockers: "Suddenly, Mr. S. interrupts the hubbub (the noise in the room has gradually escalated, although Lena is simply reading). He asks the class if they could talk about the HS stuff later, since they need to finish assigning the lockers" (O1, p3). I also observed Garth enforcing other rules during two other sessions: The volume of noise in the class is slowly rising, although Lena herself is not saying anything and suddenly, Mr. S raises his voice to say sharply, "Excuse me, but this behavior is not acceptable." He looks over them (O2, p2).

By now, most of the class has returned from lunch. Mr. S says, "We’re going to wait a few minutes…[Then] Mr. S. is lecturing about punctuality, …Mr. S. says, "Whatever you are doing that makes you late…Stop doing those things." Lena looks down at the chair. "Okay?" Mr. S says. Lena raises her head, and looks over. The class is dismissed (O3, p2).

 In Lena’s case, clothes provided another opportunity to observe how limits were established and maintained since her attire stood out, as I noted from the first observation: "On the first day of school, she wore a slip over her clothes—prompting her homeroom teacher to request that she wear more appropriate attire" (N1, p4). This request was executed privately, which preserved the atmosphere of respect I observed throughout the school community.

En Route to High-School: Competing Through Curriculum

In compiling observations regarding RMS’s curriculum, my exposure to projects and activities outside of eighth grade American Studies was severely limited. In my observations, I got to see a discussion about recycling in Lena’s homeroom, Lena studying Ibsen’s play The Doll House in CA, an early-morning Spanish vocabulary review, and an informal American Studies extra-help session. On a traditional note, world history is not included in the eighth grade curriculum. Instead, the students focus on a rigorous array of "standard" subjects: Earth Science, Mathematics, Literature (a.k.a. CA), Spanish, and American Studies. Connections across the disciplines are not emphasized, but neither are they ignored. In the 8th grade team meetings, we would often discuss overlaps between subject areas. Other than Wednesday afternoon "Electives," there appear to be few opportunities for students to initiate their own activities. As Almay and Genishi suggest, I was on the lookout for the balance between "child-initiated" and "adult-initiated" projects (p. 119). In the moments I observed Lena not performing administrative tasks, she had a chance to participate—i.e. the format was not pure lecture—but she had little choice in the subject matter.

From Lena’s schedule, I can also glean that there is no music offered on a regular basis and only one hour of physical education each week. Service to one’s community is acknowledged, as a reference to the "RMS Can Drive" was included in my last observation:

When next I look up, [some students asked me some questions, as I work with Mr. S] Lena and X are over in the far corner under the window stacking cans that the homeroom has brought in for the food drive. Lena, who is sitting with her left foot tucked underneath her on the floor, carefully picks up one can at a time, stacking one on the other. She shifts the piles around, meticulous in her movements. She is talking with her friend about how the cans should be arranged. Together they consolidate the stack of assorted canned food items (O7, p 2-3). Other insights into unconventional curriculum could be found in hallway displays. Downstairs in the seventh grade, I could see signs of a major road-trip-planning geography project. In my Humanities team meetings, I overheard exciting plans for a unit on Ancient Greece. For Lena, however, much of her energy seemed to be directed towards her high-school entrance preparation. She was concerned about this. Getting into high school, and then college, seemed to be a major motivating factor at RMS.

IV: Conclusion: What does all this mean for Lena?

The goodness-of-fit model is another essential concept....[which] takes into consideration the relationship (or more precisely, the match) between an individual’s personality (including temperamental attributes, values, attitudes, beliefs, skills and propensities) and the corresponding characteristics of the significant other people...who constitute the social context within which the behavior takes place....The goodness-of-fit model maintains that the outcome of the interaction is most of all dependent on the congruence or the match between individual and context. If an individual’s temperament and personality is congruent with or constitutes a good fit with the social context, the result would be an adaptive, constructive, development enhancing outcome. However, if the individual’s characteristics are mismatched or incongruent with the context, the outcome would be unfavorable and could impair the social relationships and even development.
 
-- Richard M. Lerner’s Developmental Contextualism (p. 352) In reflecting on the environment at RMS, my guiding question has been "What does this all mean for Lena?" My observations of her experiences, my attempts to "step into her shoes" have propelled my inquiry and reflections. With Sally Middlebrooks (1998) wry comment, "Believing that research methods in themselves can reify stereotypes…" (p. 141) in mind, I am reluctant to conclude too much from my brief eight weeks within RMS. I am grateful for this chance to apply such careful observation and recording techniques to unpacking the ambiance of my student teaching placement. As Patton (1987) notes, "Process evaluations most typically require a detailed description of program operations….The ‘process’ focus in an evaluation implies an emphasis on looking at how a product or outcome is produced rather than looking at the product itself" (p. 23).

Through the process of compiling my environmental study, I find myself staring at a list of contrasts and contradictions: an atmosphere that I found friendly yet confined; a confusing building housing a spirited and creative staff; a student body which was diverse yet selective; teaching styles that were conventional yet spontaneous grounded in a philosophy of communal learning for competitive high-school preparation; students who seemed bored yet engaged, pressured yet comfortable. All in all, an atmosphere striving to meet the needs of adolescents who, according to Stevenson, are predictable yet uncertain (p. 123). Balanced on the brink of adulthood, caring adults seem to me to be the most essential ingredient for success in middle schools—and from my perspective, RMS has those to spare. In light of my own middle school experiences, I feel obliged to celebrate the lack of tracking at RMS. While in some ways the admissions criteria means the tracking happens on a more structural level, the appearance of equality and equity at RMS is not insignificant to its success.

In sum, while this overview of RMS has been critical on many dimensions, I must conclude by saying that somehow amidst this crowding and confusion, many of the RMS eighth graders find a way to shine. The children I met, including Lena, were wacky, friendly, and wonderful. From what I could see, which is admittedly much more and much less than I had anticipated, I think RMS is approaching a good-fit for Lena. I look forward to sharing more about Lena in my child study next month.
 

Exhibit 1: Primary Source Key
 
C Lena’s Personal Biography, written for American Studies class
E Email from GS, June 27, 2000
I Interview with Lena, October 20, 2000
J My student teacher journal
N Notes on Notes (dates directly correspond with observations)
O1 Observation, September 15, 2000 "Assigning Lockers"
O2 Observation, September 21, 2000 "Homeroom Recycling Discussion"
O3 Observation, September 27, 2000 "A Glimpse of Joy After Lunch"
O4 Observation, October 5, 2000 "Groupwork in English Class"
O6 Observation, October 26, 2000 "Spanish Class"
O7 Observation, October 26, 2000 "American Studies Extra-Help"
T Interview with Mr. Garth S., a teacher at RMS, October 18, 2000

Exhibit 2: RMS Floor Plan


Exhibit 3: Lena's Schedule
 
Mod
Time
End
Mon
Tues
Wed
Thurs
Fri
House 8:55 9:05
House
House
House
House
House
1 9:05 9:35
Science
Health & Nutrition
Spanish
Spanish
Spanish
2 9:35 10:05
3 10:05 10:35
Spanish
Science
Reading
CA
Math
4 10:35 11:05
Phys. Ed.
CA
5 11:05 11:35
CA
Math
Phys. Ed.
6 11:35 12:05
Math
Math
Science
7 12:05 12:35
Reading
House 12:35 12:40
House
House
House
House
House
8-9 12:40 1:35
Lunch
Lunch
Lunch
Lunch
Lunch
House 1:35 1:40
House
House
House
House
House
10 1:40 2:10
Math
American Studies
Electives
Science
American Studies
11 2:10 2:40
American Studies
12 2:40 3:10
SELF
House 3:10 3:15
House
House
House
House
House
CA= Communication Arts

Works Cited

Almay, M. & Genishi, C. (1979) Ways of Studying Children. New York: Teacher’s College Press.

Cazden, C.B. (1988). Classroom Discourse: The Language of Teaching and Learning. Portsmouth, NH : Heinemann.

Gatto, J.T. (1992) Dumbing Us Down:The Hidden Curriculum of Compulsory Schooling. Gabriola Island: New Society Publishers.

New York State Board of Education Recruiting Document

Middlebrooks, Sally. (1998) Getting to Know City Kids. Teachers College Press: New York.

Muuss, R. E. (1996) Theories of Adolescence. "Richard M. Lerner’s Developmental Contextualism." New York: McGraw Hill.

Patton, M.Q. (1987) How to Use Qualitative Methods in Evaluation. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.

Phelan, P., Davidson, A.L., & Yu, H.C. (1998). Adolescents’ Worlds: Negotiating Family, Peers, and School. NY: Teacher’s College Press.

RMS website www.rivermiddleschool.com (disguised)

"School-Based Option Can Give Schools a Voice in Hiring" www.uft.org/nyteacher/KYR_QA/99-2000/qa2000114.html downloaded on November 1, 2000.

Schmuck, R. A. & Schmuck P.A. (1997). Group Process in the Classroom. 7th ed. Boston: McGraw Hill.

Stevenson, C. (1998) Teaching Ten to Fourteen Year Olds. 2nd Ed. New York: Longman

Zimmerman, J & Reavill, G. (1994) Manhattan. Oakland, CA: Fodor’s.