Hearing harsh words

"See how he plays us? It's 'cause we black."

The student, just reprimanded for horseplay, smirks and then dramatically plops into his seat as told.

It's not the first time Jason Bandermann has heard those harsh words. "Man, you're racist" or "It's because I'm not white" are familiar phrases now.

The first-year teacher has spent countless evenings at home wracking his brain and replaying the day's events for any sign of bias.

Could I be racist? No, no way. But then, why do they say it? What would happen if a parent overheard those words and took them seriously? The school could get sued. I could lose my teaching license. It happens.

The 23-year-old wasn't prepared to hear those words in his first year of teaching math at Central Junior High School.

It's not just one student; it's several. When it's not black students calling him racist, it's white girls calling him sexist. Mr. Bandermann knows that motivating students is the junior high's biggest obstacle right now.

But how do I motivate kids who call me racist?

Such accusations, spewed carelessly from the mouths of eighth-graders, both infuriated and frightened Mr. Bandermann at first. Black students are the majority in several of his classes, and there came a day last fall when an entire class began calling him racist after he yelled at them for misbehaving.

The accusations, coming from a room full of students, were painful. After class that day, he held one of the students back to talk about the issue and his feelings on equality.

"We only do it because we know it gets to you," the student told him.

Even after that revelation, it was a relief for Mr. Bandermann to find that other teachers at the junior high also deal with students' calling them racist. Principal Lee Gattis has encountered them often in his 20 years as an educator, usually from students who are being disciplined.

Gattis knows first-hand how unnerving assertions of prejudice can be, especially for a new teacher. But all teachers, he has found, face it at one time or another in an environment as diverse as Cape Girardeau.

Notorious

"You can usually tell when someone is looking for an excuse to use that. It's like they're trying to find a scapegoat," Gattis says. "But the students have nothing to back it up. Junior high kids are notorious for that."

After seven months with these students, Mr. Bandermann ignores the accusations. For most students, he thinks, it's a defense mechanism -- something they say when they're caught doing some wrong and have no other excuse to offer.

It's part of being a teacher, like arguing about bringing books to class or awarding that first "A" to a student who has struggled all semester.

Before he began teaching last August, Mr. Bandermann was sure that, given enough time and patience, he could reach any student. His experiences this year tell him that's not always true.

As the youngest and most inexperienced classroom teacher at the school, he works hard to maintain an air of professionalism. At times, his students work just as hard to break down that professionalism.

His face still burns three months later at the memory of being named the most beautiful eighth-grade boy during the school's winter extravaganza.

How do I motivate students who don't respect my authority?

With only two months of school left, Mr. Bandermann lectures his students on the importance of passing eighth grade. Some of his students are averaging a 12 percent in his class this semester. Some of those same students have been held back before.

From pride to shame

His attempt to motivate students begins with a good-natured appeal: "If you don't care what I think of your drive and personality, that's OK. But at least have a little pride in yourself and do something," he'd said the week before the fourth grading cycle ended in February.

When that tactic shows little impact, he tries all-out shaming: "I'm basically just baby-sitting you all, and that's not what I get paid for. It's getting ridiculous," he'd said a few days later.

Too often, his words seem to have no impact. One of his beginning math students just celebrated his 16th birthday. The prospect of being the only junior high student driving a car to school next year excites the boy.

"It's actually kind of cool being the oldest. Kids don't pick on you as much," he explains.

In math class, this boy spends his time crudely tattooing his lower arm with a safety pin. When Mr. Bandermann asks if he knows what a geometric sequence is, he replies: "Something I don't want to learn about."

How do I motivate students who don't care if they fail?

In one month, this same student will sit down with the other 130 eighth-graders in Mr. Bandermann's charge and take a state assessment to determine how adept they are in mathematics. The outcome of the test has no impact on the students themselves, but the scores are important to Mr. Bandermann and Central Junior High School because of increased accountability for student performance under a new federal law.

The first-year teacher has 16 school days left to motivate his students into doing their best on this year's math assessment. He's spent the entire year talking about the importance of these tests, but as of now the majority of his students aren't even inspired enough to bring their books to class.

~ cclark@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 128