Disappointment Runs Deep

The assignment was posted three weeks ago. It's on the class website and whiteboard. I reminded students every day. The requirement? Write four mini-essays (one page each) about a play we're reading - one for each section. Relate the play to yourself, your friends, or your family. I was trying to work on the "connect students to literature through personal comparisons with the text" element of the class.

And my heart literally breaks as I sift through the "essays." In my 6th period class, 6 out of 23 students did the assignment. Only 4 of those students did the entire assignment.

What am I suppose to do?!?!?!? I am trying so hard to reach these kids, to open them up to the idea that literature is a reflection of their own lives. Within the pages of books, should we choose to open them, are examples of find adultery, murder, anger, jealousy, rebellion, love, heartbreak, friendship, adventure, the search for identity...everything teenagers are going through right now!!!

I stopped one lovely little princess after class and asked her if she was worried about passing this class (after explaining the vocabulary test she failed and the essay assignment she didn't do). Her response: "Honestly, no."

What do I do?

I don't understand

This is a direct quote from at least four of my students this week:
"Those vocabulary words you gave us...where do we find the definitions?"

You know our education system is failing when 17-year-olds do not know where to find a definition. What's that sound? It must be Noah Webster rolling over in his grave. When I told students to find the definition on their own, the highest grade in ALL SIX ENGLISH CLASSES was 8/15. When I provided the exact definitions I would test them on (in the form of a MATCHING TEST), the grades were a little better, but I still had about 50% of the students with an F. Seriously? How difficult can it be to remember fifteen words?

Things aren't going much better in the attitude department. I actually had a student stand right outside my open classroom door and discuss how much she hated me and my class. So that afternoon I called the mom. She was at least kinder than the daughter, but when I said I was trying to engage her daughter in English, she said, "good luck with that." First of all, the phone call itself was an enormous step for me. I have anxiety attacks about calling parents. I am so afraid of parents that I prepare for the parent/teacher conferences about a month in advance. I pray for as few parents as possible. Maybe it's because my own mother actually took me out of school in 6th grade because I wasn't chosen as an usher for the middle school graduation. She was down at the school for many days debating the complete lack of justice in the selection process for ushering. USHERING. Now that I think about it, this may also be why I have an intense fear of graduation ceremonies.