Relentless Pursuit Read Free Page A

day. Taylor’s green eyes flashed. “Class, I do not care whether we have power or not,” she announced, carefully enunciating every word. “I am not prepared to let this class slip further behind my other classes because of a technical difficulty. We will continue our lesson as scheduled. Please open your books to page fifty-eight.”
    The students quieted down. Taylor knew they would. She had spent the previous week on rules and procedures. She was tough, no doubt about it. She didn’t mind if the kids considered her a bitch. She wasn’t the buddy-buddy type anyway. She was a realist. She had
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number of ninth-graders—figure twenty in a class, five classes—one hundred or so. She wasn’t going to be the teacher driving them home at night and baking them cookies. She was going to be the teacher who taught them English and actually gave them the strategies they needed to graduate. She didn’t care if they loved English, and she didn’t care if they hated her. What she cared about was helping them make it through the state standardized tests. That was her big goal. Forget the TFA do-gooder crap.
    Still, even she was surprised by her tough-love shtick.
I didn’t know I had this in me. Where did this voice come from? And the false enthusiasm? What an act! Whatever. It’s working.
    It didn’t come out of nowhere. As a communications major at the University of Southern California (USC), Taylor had gotten used to addressing large audiences. The toughness, she knew, was in her DNA. Though her parents were now neighbors of Oprah Winfrey’s in Montecito, California, they had worked hard and long for that address. Her father started out as a teacher. The Rifkins made their fortune when they bought some of the first California Weight Watchers franchises and later sold them.
    When Taylor was in the eighth grade, she became anorexic and lost forty pounds. Her parents pulled her out of school and had her admitted to the eating disorders program at UCLA Hospital. Taylor spent five weeks in treatment. When she was released, she returned to the alternative school in which she had been enrolled. The school administration asked her to address the student body and speak frankly about her ordeal. Taylor was ashamed and embarrassed, but she did it. After that, she was more cautious about revealing too much of herself to anyone. And she was careful not to try too hard to be perfect.
    That wasn’t easy. Particularly when she was surrounded by the type A high achievers in Teach For America. Taylor had a difficult time at the summer institute and was so put off by the experience that she didn’t bother to attend the closing ceremonies. Her family had reservations, too. They didn’t think she could handle the pressure.
    But Taylor left TFA’s summer school confident that she had mastered the key to being a successful teacher: classroom management. She learned that lesson the hard way. It still upset her to think about that day in mid-July. It was a Wednesday, her third day of teaching. She began by allowing the kids one minute to “get the talking out of them.” She knew immediately that it was a big mistake. When she called the class to order, the chatter continued, and she tried to speak above them.
    â€œI would like you to write a paragraph about your favorite childhood memory,” she said, her voice raised. Another mistake.
    â€œI don’t have one,” shouted one student.
    â€œI wasn’t born,” quipped another.
    â€œIt was the day my dad beat me up,” said the kid in the corner.
    Taylor changed tack. “If you can’t remember a childhood memory, then tell me what you did yesterday,” she said.
    â€œNothin’” was the first response.
    â€œTook naps” was the second.
    It didn’t get any better. Taylor decided to illustrate the elements of a good paragraph by using a handout with a line drawing of a