A game plan in place

"Hello, my name is Mr. Bandermann. I'll be your math teacher this year."

He's practiced the simple sentences over and over in his mind, but the words still stumble out of Jason Bandermann's mouth when he tries to say them aloud.

Saying it out loud makes Wednesday seem real.

Five years of college and a semester of student teaching have brought Bandermann to this point, but his journey is just beginning. The 23-year-old will face challenges in the next 10 months that 156 hours' worth of college classes couldn't prepare him for.

With three days left until the start of school in Cape Girardeau, Bandermann is outwardly calm.

More than once in the past month, he's fallen asleep with the instructional book "The First Days of School" in his hands.

His game plan is in place, but disturbing thoughts flood his mind.

Bandermann will be one of just three male academic teachers at the junior high school, and the youngest of all teachers there.

Young, athletic and fashionable, he'll come close to blending in with his eighth-grade students. That type of situation has caused problems for him in the past.

While substitute teaching two years ago, a tenacious junior high girl squeezed his rear end while he walked down a hallway. He turned around to find a large group of giggling girls running in the opposite direction.

It wasn't something he'd been taught to deal with in his education classes. The memory has prompted him to consider wearing a tie, instead of his usual polo-style shirt, when he meets his students for the first time this Wednesday.

He's hoping a more formal appearance will be enough to convince students of his authority.

Central Junior High faces challenges of its own -- nothing that can be addressed with a simple necktie. Nearly 30 percent of the school's 675 students qualify for free or reduced lunches, the criteria the district uses to measure poverty.

Research has shown that poverty often equates to low student achievement. Last year, the school did not keep pace with state averages on the communication arts, reading and science portions of the state's annual standardized assessment.

Bandermann's classes will be a melting pot of races, backgrounds and abilities. He'll teach the students who are so far ahead of the curve in math they're often bored, the students who struggle so much they hate the subject and the in-between students who just want to get their daily 42 minutes of fractions and equations over with.

At this point, Bandermann hasn't figured out where he's going to put all of his students, let alone how to handle their individual needs. He doesn't have enough desks to accommodate the 25 in his largest class and has been told there might not be additional furniture.

But his biggest hurdle this year may be time management. On top of his teaching duties at the junior high, Bandermann will also coach long-distance track and cross country at Central High School.

He's excited about the opportunity to coach but worries it will limit the time he spends helping his students after school.

Six hours of elbow grease

It was with high hopes that Bandermann glimpsed his second-floor classroom for the first time just three weeks ago.

This was the place where he would make math fun. This was the place where he would evolve as a teacher. This was the place where he would change young people's lives.

This was a place ... covered in filth.

The tiled floor was littered with scrap paper, the desks covered in a layer of dust. Six hours of elbow grease later, the room began to resemble a learning environment.

For the most part, everything is in place. Colorful Snoopy and Garfield posters add color to otherwise dingy walls. His battered wooden desk is tidy, with stapler, tape dispenser and brain teaser games lined neatly on top.

A handwritten list of classroom rules hangs by the door. Bandermann will expect his students to come to class prepared, be seated when the bell rings and respect others.

A gleaming silver nameplate holds the place of honor in the center of his desk. The nameplate, engraved simply with the words "Mr. Bandermann" was a gift in commemoration of his May graduation from Southeast Missouri State University.

The odds are against Bandermann and his dream of becoming a lifelong, successful teacher.

Reports issued last year by State Auditor Claire McCaskill found that only 18 percent of teachers remain in the profession after seven years, and just 29 percent of the 257,500 people who held teaching certificates in Missouri in 2001 were employed in public schools.

The report cited low salaries and stringent certification requirements as the two main causes of Missouri's teacher shortage. Neither of those issues is on Bandermann's mind as he prepares for his first day.

No Child Left Behind

That first day comes at a time when the stakes have risen immensely for teachers.

A sweeping new federal reform, the No Child Left Behind Act of 2002, has shifted an unprecedented amount of accountability onto teachers' shoulders.

Bandermann has eight months to prepare his students for the math portion of the state's annual standardized test, the Missouri Assessment Program.

If his students don't perform as well as others on this spring's MAP, it will be a direct reflection of his skills, and his first-year success.

Under NCLB, schools that do not make continued improvement on MAP tests are labeled "needing improvement" by the state, and must pay for students to transfer to another school in the district if they choose, develop improvement plans, provide tutoring services and, if scores continue to fall below standards, hire new teachers.

But junior high principal Lee Gattis has confidence in his new recruit's abilities.

"I think he'll be fine," Gattis said. "He'll have a good support group through our teams of teachers, and they'll be able to tell him what to emphasize in class."

The idea of becoming a teacher has been tucked away in the back of Bandermann's mind for 14 years, but that wasn't why he went to college.

Four years as a basketball and baseball player in high school prompted him to pursue a career as an athletic trainer at Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield, Mo. It took a single semester for Bandermann to realize he was happiest when working in the local high schools.

Memories surfaced of Mrs. Barks, his third-grade teacher at Woodland Elementary School, whose enthusiasm and nurturing personality left a lasting impression on him.

Something clicked, and he knew how he wanted to spend his life: helping young people learn. The switch cost him an extra year of college.

He transferred to Southeast Missouri State University after his sophomore year in Springfield and graduated along with 156 other would-be teachers in May.

Parental guidance

The decision to become a teacher came as a surprise to Bandermann's parents, although both Rick and Pam Bandermann have taught public school at one point in their lives.

Pam, who taught elementary school for 12 years before moving to administration at the Woodland School District this year, knows her son will be a great teacher.

The mother in her is tempted to snap a photo of him on Wednesday morning, just as she did to commemorate each first day of class during his elementary school years.

Engaged to be married and living with his parents in Cape Girardeau, Bandermann has the support of his family as the first day of school quickly approaches.

There's little on his mind these days but the moment when the classroom door will shut, and he'll turn to his students and say: "Hello, my name is Mr. Bandermann ..."

cclark@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 128