In the Classroom

Mr. LaPierre's classroom reminds me, somewhat, of the classrooms in Gaige Hall. It's stark and dimly-lit, with small windows allowing only a little sunlight in. The artificial light is harsh, but it keeps the classroom lit. As we walk in, Mr. LaPierre even quips about the rundown state of his classroom. 

He's done best to counteract the base state of the classroom, however: the wall is adorn with posters, most of them from the National Guard, and there are two giant maps--one of Rhode Island, one of the United States--taking up separate walls. There is a bookshelf full of class books next to a big red cabinet called "The Fridge". When asked, Mr. LaPierre explains that that's a supply closet, and when students do well on their work he'll hang it on the doors of "The Fridge". It's clever, but at the moment its blank, making me wonder how effective it is. One of the more eye-catching signs is hung above the American flag: "You have the right not to stand for the pledge, but remember those that lost the ability to stand fighting for that right". I don't know what to make of this sign: it feels like they're being guilted into standing for the pledge, which in turn makes the whole process less sincere. 

The furniture is arranged in standard classroom form: rows of desks facing the white board, a desk with a computer in one corner, and the teacher's desk at the back of the classroom. For the duration of the class Mr. LaPierre is at the front of the class, in front of the white board. He never uses it, however. The white board is left blank for both classes, and somehow it feels like something is missing--there's details being missed out on, little bits that high school kids might miss in a lecture format. In all, it feels like a room that takes time to adjust it--it's not immediately welcoming, but there's enough personalization to put a student at ease over time. 

Knowing the reputation surrounding Central Falls, I am pleasantly surprised by how welcoming the whole of the school was. It looks like a typical school--small lockers, narrow hallways--but everyone is so cheerful and welcoming that it seemed to broaden the school. I shake more than a few hands, put at ease by how thrilled they are to see a RIC student. In the art department, the walls was painted and decorated, making it more cheerful, and as I walked around the school I noticed how teachers personalized their classroom doors with quotes and signs. As we walk around, Mr. LaPierre explains that the math and science departments are part of the "new" school--newer, cleaner, better arranged, and you can tell the difference the minute you descend from the stairwell into the new school. Central Falls High did its best to show that it's like any other high school. It's enough to make me want to come back, perhaps for the long haul--"I could student teach here," I find myself thinking. "I'd like to student teach here."

The classrooms are of a typical size, but it's far more diverse than my own high school ever was. In the hallways and in the classroom I can hear multiple dialects being used, mostly by students: they are a mixture of ethnicity, the archetype of the inner-city kids. The teachers, however, are predominately white. I find myself wondering if any of the teachers are fluently bilingual--certainly the students are--and if I should brush up on my Spanish if I intend to teach here, or in a similar school. Mr. LaPierre explains that most of the students come from low socioeconomic backgrounds and a handful of his students alone have IEPs. In the middle of a lesson one student walks in late, having been escorted to class by his behavioral consultant. On the whole, however, there's nothing really separating this students from any other student body--they talk and joke and work like typical teenagers. 

The classroom activities are dominated by the teacher: he introduces the Do Now, the lesson, and maintains class discipline. The power of the classroom is concentrated on him: although the students asks questions and can create discussions, he's the one guiding them. The classroom activities for the day were solo, so its harder to gauge who had skills to match the school's expectations and who did not. However, there was a varying degree of participation among students: some put their heads down when they were supposed to be reading, or just procrastinated on their work. 

I suspect that being a student in this classroom is like being a student in any other classroom: you'll have good days and bad, days when the work is engaging and days when it simply needs to be done to move on. Mr. LaPierre does his best to be friendly and empathetic towards his students, so the classroom atmosphere stays level. On a school-wide perspective, however, being a student in Central Falls High School is probably difficult--there are a number of stigmas to face, both inside the community and out, resources are scarce, and there is an omnipresent pressure to succeed. It has to be stressful, and students are no doubt aware of the fact that it's not only their futures their actions decide--it's their teachers too.