Rise

About three months ago, I decided my students should learn how to code. I teach 4th, 5th and 6th graders who live in poverty. I thought it would be great if they could learn to code now, create an app and sell it on iTunes. They could break free of the chains of poverty now.

So I found some excellent coding lessons on Khan Academy and set them all to work. You should see those kids coding! It’s amazing. I love watching my fourth graders, their heads all bent together next to that computer screen saying things like, “Have you tried plus, plus?” Or “No, dude, you need four parameters!” It’s beautiful.

And then one day, a little button popped up on my coach screen. “Do you want to add this class to Learnstorm2015?” And I clicked yes.

LearnStorm is a pilot math competition in which students earn points by mastering math skills at their grade level. And so, I set them all to work. I watched in amazement as they dug in and fought their way through new concepts and through practice and determination they began to master math skills. I told my good pal Will, our 6th grade math teacher all about it.

“That’s awesome!” He said with a typically huge Will grin. He was impressed with their progress and effort. “It will be cool to see how they do.”

This conversation was about two weeks into LearnStorm and I had already been convinced of its greatness. I had begun to work on my own math skills — starting in kindergarten and working my way forward. Will laughed when I told him about my own math journey, but he also encouraged me. “You can learn it all, I bet.”

And after three months of daily struggle– after school Khan Club meetings, Saturday school sessions — we have reached the end of LearnStorm. My students understand grit — they have lived it out. They struggled and worked. They’ve hit a wall. “Mrs. E! I’m never gonna get this last skill!” I’ve hit my own wall and lived it for them to see. Sometimes, I would work on my own math lessons on the big screen so they could see me try and fail and try again and learn.

About six weeks in we began the real fight. We had mastered all the “easy” skills and were smack dab in the land of new learning. I was amazed to discover that ALL of my students needed to learn how to tell time, and measure, and I don’t even want to talk about fractions! But then the most amazing thing began to happen — our school was on the leaderboard. We made our way into the top five for the whole Bay Area. 69,000 kids and mine were showing up on the Leaderboard.

Determination.
Drive.
Grit.

We dug deep, encouraged each other and kept moving forward. Five of my students have their names in the top 100. One of my 4th grade girls is number 14 — out of the whole contest. I’ve never been so proud.

As for myself, I’ve mastered 438 math skills as of today. I got bogged down at the end of 6th grade math –don’t laugh– there is some seriously tough stuff in 6th grade now.

The last two weeks, we’ve held steady in 2nd place. My students. The same kids who spoke no English in kindergarten, who have no internet access at home, who I start each day asking one question, “Have you eaten?” — these kids are number two. They understand grit. They understand hard work and now they are witnesses to the benefit of it.

This Saturday, I am taking five of them to a final event at Google headquarters. They will be recognized and encouraged. One of my girls didn’t want to go. “It’s an amazing once in a lifetime opportunity!” I told her. “You have to go!”

Her response reminded me of the crippling effects of poverty. “I don’t ride in cars much.” She said. “It is far. What if I get sick?” She’s ten years old, and doesn’t often leave her neighborhood. Her family shares a car with her cousins. They walk almost everywhere. Driving an hour away might as well be the moon.

“I’ll sit next to you.” I promised. “You can do this.”

She turned in her permission slip and asks me daily if I really will sit with her. I will.

I cannot express how far they have already traveled and now five of them will go a little further — and hear Sal Khan, founder of Khan Academy’s, himself, praise their hard work.

“Mrs. E, y’a think that Sophia from the coding lessons will be there?” One of them asked me.

“I don’t know.” I told her.

“I hope so. That would be cool. If I heard her talking, I’d know it was her. I’ve listened to her lots!”

They have found new rock stars to admire. Sophia, Jessica, Sal. They look up to academics who’ve taught them to code, animate and tell time on a “regular” clock. I wish I could bring all 355 of my students, but I hope the five I do bring will be ambassadors to the rest — showing them there is a world outside their impoverished neighborhood.

And if anyone could understand this massive achievement, it would be my buddy Will. He was so excited about the contest and so proud of our students. But just four days after I told him about the contest, he died suddenly – a good man taken from us too soon. And so, it was with broken hearts my students dug deep determined to do well in the contest. “We gotta do it for Mr. B!” They said to encourage one another. “He wouldn’t want us to quit!”

I don’t know the end of our story. We will go to finals on Saturday. We will step onto that campus and for my students it will be like Neil Armstrong standing on the moon — a new world never seen before full of endless possibilities.

LearnStorm taught us about hope, endurance and grit. We learned to persevere even through grief and that even broken-hearted we can build something good. It taught us to encourage one another because everyone struggles. It taught us that you can learn anything. It taught us that we are capable of more than we can imagine.

Oh, and we learned some math, too.