Classroom Notes - 'Teach: Tony Danza' - Season 1: Episode 5, "Solidarity"

     Maybe I’m being too hard to Tony Danza as a teacher and thereality series he’s starring in.  We’vebeen through five episodes, and Danza has clearly had to struggle with theself-sacrificing demands of the classroom, with the significant obstaclespresented by the mix of students found in any large urban public school, andwith his own unique paradox of being a guy with a great heart who’s spent toomuch time amid the narcissism of show business. Being a first year teacher is very difficult.  Education degree or none, expertise in thesubject area aside, with mentors or without, finding your way in the classroomis a challenge that defeats even the most idealistic and determined wanna-beeducators.  Some of them, when defeated,know enough to get out of the classroom.

"Join me, Tony Danza, and we will rule the high school!"

     In my first full year teaching – and I had come to be afull-time educator after six years teaching in the summer, serving as along-term substitute, tutoring in many different subject, even working as anadjunct university instructor – in my first full year, I was not verygood.  I taught five sections of 10th grade English – 75 students – and we worked our way through vocabulary words, aseries of essays, and a whole bunch of literature that included Macbeth, Catcher in the Rye and (heavenhelp us!) Thomas Hardy’s Far from theMadding Crowd.  I didn’t have toomuch trouble with teaching writing, and the vocabulary work took care of itselffor the most part, but the bulk of our time -- probably 60 percent, or three days a week -- was spent dealing withthe literature.

     I write “dealing with literature” because that’s what itfelt like – a task, a chore, a burden that became increasingly tedious andnumbing as the weeks passed.  At acertain point – during November’s run through Far from the Madding Crowd – you have to explain even the title! –I was burned out on the book.  Three litdays a week, five lectures a day – even five teacher-led discussions – weregrinding me down.  I was bored, thestudents were bored.  I didn’t change myapproach at that point, however, and we finished the novel unhappily.  At least it wasn’t Jude the Obscure, which is unhappy no matter which way you parseit.

     When we started with Macbeth,though, I had realized finally that I needed to make a chance.  I am sure that, at some point, I talked withmy father – a longtime teacher and education professor – and he simply remindedme that the students needed variety in their lessons and, more importantly,they needed to be the focus of what was going on.  For the Macbeth unit, built a few lectures inhere and there over three weeks, but most of what the students spent their timeon were their own productions of particular scenes.  I had chosen some of the shorter key scenesin the tragedy, drawn up some assessment guidelines, and simply cut themloose.  I served only to advise, make suggestions,answer questions, and provide materials and encouragement in theirdramaturgical work.

     One particular scene I had given the students, Act 3, Scene3, deals with a certain dramatic question, “Who is the Third Murderer ofBanquo?”  One group answered the questionin a impressively creative way: Darth Vader. What ensued the day of this group’s presentation is one of the fewthings I remember from my first year teaching. Not only did they nail all their lines and put their full effort intotheir performances, but these students brought in a fog machine, dressed theThird Murderer in a full Darth Vader costume, and, best of all, had aspectacular fight with light sabers in the classroom. “Fly good Fleance, flyfly fly!” ZWOOSH!  We all gave the efforta standing ovation.  I learned that daythe true gift you can give to students in the classroom, which is to create thecircumstances for their minds to be fully engaged to the point where theirintellect, imagination, and souls are engaged. They will surprise everyone in the room – including, most importantly,themselves.  I could never have imaginedwhat those students chose to present for Act 3, Scene 3 – but after that day, Iam always waiting for Vader to show up again. I do my best to make sure the classroom is a welcome place for the DarkLord of the Sith.

     Mr. Danza had his Vader moment when, in Episode4, he finally allowed the students to take the stage in showing off theirmythology presentations. It was slightly interesting. 


    In Episode 5, the issue of school uniforms arrives early in the the story.  Danza explained to his students that he wears the same outfit each day -- he has six shirts, six pairs of pants -- and that in solidarity with the students, he'll be wearing the school tie along with them. In the same act, the issue of theft and fighting among some of Mr. Danza's students also comes up.  Both of these matters are much more realistic problems facing schools these days -- the tensions between conformity and individualism, and conflict resolution.  To deal with the latter problem, Mr. Danza proposes to teach some of his kids to box -- that is, how to fight and when to fight.  So far, the episode sets up much more promising issues than the previous episodes' hand-wringing over Hollywood Tony's struggles in the classroom.


     The comments on uniforms from students and teachers run the typical gamut -- with the arguments in favor appealing to me.  Uniforms simplify much of the social coding of clothing and encourage students to focus on their learning.  Depending on the uniform, a certain degree of sexual dissplay can be de-emphasized, further encouraging a focus on academics and activities.  Uniforms, oddly enough, encourage an unconscious sense of community, but allow students to express a certain degree of individuality in how they might work within the dress code.  Even the debate among members of the school community about uniforms is beneficial to creating a sense of purpose.


     But, to return to the issue of fighting, over the simple theft of an iPod, Mr. Danza is wise to offer the young men involved the constructive outlet for their aggression -- boxing.  In my experience, again, young people, especially young men, are looking to test the limits in all kids of way, and most of the time its best to provide the proper outlet for whatever impulse that might be.  As Mr. Danza, a former professional boxer himself, puts it in regard to fighting,  "In my experience, once you really know how to do it, you do it less."  There's nothing wrong with aggression in and of itself -- one just has to find the right way to use it to teach young people skills, discipline, diligence, resilience, grace, self-confidence, and self-control.  If there's an argument for having sports in school -- and having real contact sports in school -- it's because some kids need to hit and get hit.  At the same time, the scene of mediation between the students who had been fighting was touching, as the young men involved attempted to explain themselves -- however unclearly or vaguely.  I've been in those meetings; these scuffles happen; the most important thing is to use them as teaching opportunities and not react too punitively.


    The kid who gives the dog biscuit to the assistant principal is to be commended, as disrespectful as his action was -- indirectly suggesting the administrator is a bitch.  If you're in a job like that, you have to take insults like that from time to time, and deal with them professionally and appropriately.  "I understand fully your clever insult.  You have Saturday detention, sir! Have a nice day!"


     What worked about this episode so much more than the previous four was that this time around, Mr. Danza was a witness to some of the real problems that young people face -- alienation and frustration with the institutional setting, and the simple dynamics of being young and male.  As we suspected, Danza's heart -- his capacity to care, to persist, and to remain open -- are serving him well as he steps into the background of the drama and lets his students assume more and more agency in the narrative.  I'll be tuning in next week for sure.  Solidarity.

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 1, 'Back to School'

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 2, 'Tested'

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 3, 'Just Say No'

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 4, 'Homesick'

Classroom Notes - 'Teach: Tony Danza' - Season 1: Episode 4, "Homesick"

"Stop me if you've heard this one. . ."

     What does Tony need?  Four episodes in, and I'm starting to get bored.  I'm not sure if the producers of the show get where the drama of the classroom really lives, although they've had a number of characters say it to Tony Danza many times: Put the focus on the students.
     Act One: Bobby G, Tony Danza's best friend and a longtime teacher comes to visit. "Teaching has always been a sacrifice," says Bobby G. "You're working with a lot of people and it's very complicated."  Origami-folding Eric is bored in class, tired of Hollywood Tony's digressions and gee-whiz exhortations. "I do it only in his class," Eric says about his paper-folding. "You're not supposed to have time to do it in class.  We're supposed to be learning. . . I get kind of bored when Mr. Danza gets off topic. Topics, so many topics."   David Cohen, Danza's patient mentor, makes it very plain.  "Change from thinking, What am I going to do? to What are the kids going to do?"
     Acts Two and Three: Danza has some success with helping the marching band, but fails in teaching a lesson on myths, as the class gets unfocused and out of control.  Teachers are supposed to control the students, Eric points out.  Yawn. Danza has a bit more of a positive experience again with the marching band -- his theatre training helps with the choreography.  And a light starts to dawn for Danza during their early morning rehearsals, "The man's commitment is unbelievable," he says, "It makes you think about your own comittment."  Danza goes bowling with a bunch of teachers, and his buddy Joe says over beers, "When I'm working, everything else goes away but family," his young friend Joe says.  Danza misses his family.  Maybe he will fly out and visit them.  The next day, after doing poorly on a test, Eric  breaks down, and Danza keeps saying, "Focus! Try harder!"
     Acts Four and Five: In a meeting with Eric's parents, Danza keeps saying, "Focus! Try harder!"  Finally (Finally!), young Joe of the Beers gives Hollywood Tony a lightbulb moment: "If I can design something for the students to do, I'm the man if I can just walk around."  The next day, Mr. Danza admits to his students, ""If I'm talking, we're not doing it right." Rather than visit his family, Mr. Danza goes to the band competition. His daughter comes to visit instead, and she arrives on the day when Mr. Danza's students get to "take the stage" in his classroom for once.
     The flatness of this episode results from the shift that needs to happen for viewers to learn about how schools really work: when the educators are really doing their jobs, the focus is usually not on them, it's on the students.  If the purpose of the first four episodes of 'Teach' is to introduce the half dozen students who are assume greater importance in narrative, then I'll keep watching.  But if the show is going to focus so much on Hollywood Tony's learning to teach, then the drama is going to fall flat.  What does Tony need? is not a dramatic question that will carry the series/  The really interesting stuff that happens in classroom goes on with the students -- you've got a score of life stories to unpack at least a little bit, and then you've got to get the kids to work as hard for you as will work for them.  And that means working in a smart and, most importantly, selfless way.
     As I've said before, Danza's got a great heart, but he's been wrapped up so long in the narcissistic world of Hollywood that he can't set aside his ego enough to shift the attention away from himself.  He's going to have to -- or the producers are going to have to -- very soon, because I'm starting to feel that I'm watching the same episode over and over again.  Let's get into the stories of Monte, Paige, Eric C, Katerina, Algernon, Stephanie, Howard, Tammy, and Daniel. What do they need?  As a teacher, I've been thinking about those kids from Friday to Friday -- just like most of us do in our real teaching jobs.

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 1, 'Back to School'

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 2, 'Tested'

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 3, 'Just Say No'

Classroom Notes - 'Teach: Tony Danza' - Season 1: Episode 3, "Just Say No"

     The central dilemma for ‘Teach; Tony Danza’ is right therein the teaser: Hollywood Tony goes to the Phillies game to sing the NationalAnthem, but Mr. Danza admits it: He should be home preparing lessons.

       Act 1,the real resentment is starting to set in. Hollywood’s talking about singing at the baseball game and how he has toplay a date in Atlantic City, and one bright student, Algernon, has checkedout.  When Danza’s mentor gives a warningabout not pushing it too much, Mr. Danza listens, as he’s starting to do moreoften.  Mr. Danza says, as so manyteachers do, “I gotta find a way to reach that kid.”  And when the mayor makes an official requestfor Hollywood to serve as master of ceremonies for a charity event, anotherdistraction from the classroom is added.

     In Act 2, this theme of "reaching the kid" informs the discussions between some of the football players, as well as a chat between the head football coach and Danza.  Does yelling at the varsity players work? For some, and not for others.  This fundamental question is abandoned quickly, though, as Hollywood is drawn into rehearsals for the mayor's wife charity show.  Danza brings in a ringer from his showbiz connections to help direct the show, but the high expectations and long hours for rehearsal aren't going over well with the students who've been enlisted into the publicity stunt.

     When a veteran Geometry teacher stops by to deliver a gut check -- "Are you here to act like a teacher, or are you hear to teach?" -- Tony doesn't have a good answer.  Later, during a show rehearsal, Tony tries to explain to his showbiz colleagues, "I get up at 4:30 every morning."  Danza is stretched thin, he's not reaching his students, but he won't take the time to figure out what he needs to do make those little adjustments and accommodations to make a class work. It takes time.

     For most educators, teaching is notthe kind of job where you can stroll through the door at the first bell andfigure it out as you go along.  You have40, maybe 50 minutes to get through your lesson for the day.  Preparation for that lesson might involve lecturenotes, slides or transparencies for projectors, video or audio playback,handouts or worksheets, or even rearrangement of furniture or the setup ofspecial equipment or materials.  When thestudents enter classroom, if they arrive on time, they have to settle, becounted, and get out their own materials. One of the subtle skills a teacherdevelops is how to get a quick read on the mood of the group and do a survey ofeach student should anyone be out of sorts or potentially disruptive ordistracted.  Even if you’re good, youstill lose the first five minutes of class to “getting started.”  Most teachers will have five to six sectionsa day, with 20 to 30 students in each section. Most teachers will have at least a couple of preps, which means you haveto prepare lessons for a completely different courses – 10th gradeEnglish, maybe, and Journalism.  If youcoach a team or lead a student activity, there’s still more prep time.  Most experienced, professional teachers Iknow arrive about an hour before the start of classes every day.

     Although theschool day might end at two or three, many teachers offer extra help, sponsoractivities, coach, or simply stay in their classrooms doing whatever paperworkand prep they can manage before the exhaustion of the day creeps in.  The intensity of truly engaged teaching –putting out enough precisely directed energy to engage and manage the learningof scores of young people – is a tremendous rush.  It also takes everything you have, as theweeks and months mount up, to build a little model of each student in yourhead, and, based on that model, to tailor every encounter so that what you haveto offer – content or skills – gets delivered to the student just as he or sheneeds to receive it.  Most of the time,you will receive very little feedback that you’re really reaching them atall.  But you are, though you don’t knowit.  You must be patient, hopeful, fullof faith, and diligent.  In a few months,you’ll start getting through.  Manypeople – including parents and the students themselves – are far too ready togive up.  Sometimes, all young peopleneed is encouragement, but teachers have to pay attention.  Danza is simply too unfocused and tired to make his classroom work the way it needs to.

    After a marathon day in which Danza helped coach at a football game, MCed the mayor's show, and then finished up with a performance in Atlantic City, Hollywood Tony's had enough. It's a sequence of hero-making (or star-worship) which, the longer it continues, the more boring it gets.  The following week, Danza has a man-to-man talk with the head football coach and resigns from his coaching position.  He has to focus on the classroom.  And as for reaching his kids, there's a fine moment that closes the episode as Mr. Danza really is humbled by a hard-to-reach student's account of a fight he got into. "When you're teaching," Mr. Danza says, "you actually have to take into consideration what's going on in their lives."  And to make room for those lives, you have to leave plenty of space in your own.

     Hopefully, now that we're finished with Hollywood Tony's commitment issues, we can get on to the drama of the classroom.  That white-haired Geometry teacher had the right angle on the central problem: You can act like a teacher, or you can teach.

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 1, 'Back to School'

Notes on Season 1 - Episode 2, 'Tested'

Classroom Notes - 'Teach: Tony Danza' - Season 1: Episode 2, "Tested"

     When Hollywood Tony is talking about Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men, the lesson seems to still be more about Tony than it is about Lenny and George and the students in Danza's 10th grade English class.  Not much seems to have changed from the first episode, when everyone just wanted Hollywood Tony to stop talking so much.  As the class tackles Of Mice and Men, familiar problems appear. Some students don't read, some claim they can't understand the material, while the ambitious and bright Monte dismisses the novel as being "a seventh grade book," and makes it clear that he doesn't want to be held back by a teacher.  He's got plans.
     To address the issue of students not reading -- always the primary impediment to any lesson in literature, Hollywood Tony decides to give a quiz over the first two chapters.  As he puts it, "my first quiz.  It's not even on the curriculum, I just threw it in." If you watched last week, you know that when Hollywood Tony  is on stage, it's not going to end well.  When half the students fail the quiz, they feel horrible (although many of them are to blame), and the emotional and professional repercussions just about drive Danza out of the job.  he feels the responsibility. Even Monte, who does well on the quiz, is concerned that, for him, it was too easy. Everybody's failing in one way or another.
     At this point, the professionals step in.  The problem of insufficient effort and incompatible learning styles is addressed immediately by Danza's instructional mentor, David Cohen: "This is the struggle that most of the teachers in the school are up against."  Cohen also adds that when students who have been tested and confirmed as having learning disabilities ask to go to the resource room, they must be allowed to go.  When Hollywood Tony brushes off the issue as a matter of effort, he is quickly passed up the chain of command, coming to rest in Principal Linda Carroll's office.  She reminds Hollywood Tony that he would be wise to follow the advice of professionals and to follow school policies.  Don't mess with the law, Mr. Danza.  And, she adds, "You don't get the title of teacher until your students are learning."
     As a teacher myself, it's comforting to see people sticking up for the difficulty of the profession and dealing honestly with the limits of how far pep and positive thinking will get you.  One really feels bad for Danza, who is obviously a guy with a huge heart -- and you can see him trying to connect with the students.  But sometimes, it isn't always a matter of effort, and often, it takes a very long time to reach young people.  One must have patience and persistence and humility and flexibility.  Hollywood Tony's need to be liked and win people over is his worst enemy, but his emotional accessibility is his greatest strength.

     When Danza is at the breaking point, a very compassionate administrator finds him at his desk, defeated, weeping.  You're allowed to be emotional, she says.  This is an emotional business that we're in.  We've all been there.  And you can see the professional teachers picking up Danza in his most teachable moment -- when the Hollywood Tony persona is gone -- and telling him he can do it.  Because everyone knows he has the heart.  Finally, we see Mr. Danza make an appearance in Act 5: "I guess I'll have to adjust my thinking."

     My favorite moments in the series so far have been when Danza encounters parents -- first in the last episode at a Friday football game, and in this episode in two parent conferences.  One parent of a stubbornly uninvolved student meets with Danza in conference and gives him permission to stay on her, and also makes the suggestion of providing students and parents with an assignment sheet so parents can help make sure kids are doing assignments.  I'll try it, says Mr. Danza.  But, this being a television drama, there must be a cliffhanger, and bright, articulate Monte (you knew it) has asked his grandmother to come in and talk to Hollywood Tony.  Last week, she tells Danza, Monte said you earned a 6 out of 10.  This week, you get a 4. Fade to black.

     After two episodes, the broader purpose of the show is becoming clear -- that is, to show the real, agonizing drama that is inherent in the public school system.  The profound moments of 'Teach' are built around the tensions between innovation and bureaucracy, between bright students and struggling students, between passionate teachers and apathetic teachers, and between the expectations of school and the demands of the world outside.  As a character study and reality drama, it's getting better each time the new guy down the hall starts crying at his desk.  Hollywood Tony has got to go if Mr. Danza's -- and his students -- going to have a chance.

Notes on Season 1: Episode 1, "Back to School"

Classroom Notes - 'Teach: Tony Danza' - Season 1: Episode 1, "Back to School"

"Can anyone tell me the meaning of 'omniscient?'"

     I'm not much for reality television programming, but I have to admit that the premise of Teach: Tony Danza, intrigued me. On two counts, I thought it might be a terrible idea, and I suspected I would see: 1) A show that would not really capture the day-to-day work of educators and students but instead focus on melodrama in the classroom, or 2) A show that would get close enough to the reality of schools, but that would give Danza too easy an assignment.  On a third count, I thought it might be a great idea and be, 3) A show that would be realistic and show how practically every teacher struggles to find equilibrium and success in the classroom.  As a television program and as a real look at teaching, I think we might have a promising start, to judge from the first episode.
     Now, I've been teaching for over 20 years, first as in the Project Upward Bound program, and then a variety of assignments in public school, colleges, and educational publishing companies, and I've settled into independent school teaching for the past decade and a half.  My school setting is a bit more genteel here in suburban South Florida than in Danza's urban Philadelphia school, Northeast High, with some 3700 students. At the same time, I teach five periods a day, compared to Danza's one.  I average 75 or so students a year, compared with Danza's 30.  Many public school teachers have well over 100 students each year.  Good schools -- public and private -- provide rookie teachers with mentors, and Danza has one as well.  I've taught all kinds of different courses at all kinds of levels, and this year I'm teaching 10th grade English.  Danza's assignment: 10th grade English.
     My favorite moment in the first episode in almost a throwaway.  Danza is standing in the hallway talking with some students, and a kid walks by and, in full Teen Sarcasm Mode, yells, "Ooh, it's Tony Danza!" and keeps on going.  The celebrity of Being Tony Danza only goes so far in the real world, as Hollywood Tony is brought down to reality by the administrator in the main office for not signing in to work, by the school principal who makes it clear she'll fire him if he can't teach, and, most accurately, by the football coaches and team, as well as his own students, who make the observation that Hollywood Tony is always on stage.  Don't want to read your essay in class?  No problem, Hollywood Tony will handle it.  It's just like a table read!  After a week, Hollywood Tony's kids admit that they're not learning much from Hollywood Tony.  Nice enough guy, but, frankly, they're waiting for Mr. Danza to show up and explain the omniscient narrator so that everyone can understand it.
     The way that Teach's producers have condensed Tony Danza's first week at Northeast, it would seem that Tony Danza is really in over his head.  He's like a some people who, full of noble intentions and condescension for the profession, just show up on the first day of school and think they can "make a difference" simply by, well, wanting to make a difference.  What Hollywood Tony seems to start to realize (maybe) by the end of the first episode is that, first of all, he really needs to know much better the content and skills he's been tasked with sharing with students and, secondly, his being in the classroom is not about Hollywood Tony. It's about the students. It's always about the students.
     The work each day in the classroom is not like performing a show for an audience who will see you that one time.  A teacher will see his or her students for 3 or 4 hours a week, for about nine months.  That's a relationship, so the priorities of an entertainer don't really work.  No matter how awesome a relationship with anyone might be, it's got to be based on give-and-take.  This is what the other professionals -- in one way or another -- keep telling Hollywood Tony.  In the long run, most educators will learn that one needs to be interesting but not necessarily entertaining, to have a personality but not get too personal, to be an expert but also to be accessible, and not to worry at all about being popular.  Don't worry about being liked -- just be likable.  It's better as an educator to be respected for your teaching; the popularity will take care of itself.
     Dramatically, of course, the nine-episode season won't work if Hollywood Tony doesn't struggle on his way -- one suspects -- to becoming Mr. Danza.  The best moments in the opening episode happen when the aura of celebrity is all-too-apparent, as when Hollywood Tony goes a overboard in encouraging the students to use hand sanitizer, or when he's forced to admit he's a millionaire (actually, he's estimated to be worth $15 million), to which he says, "A million is not what it used to be."  Yeah, right.  Equally enjoyable are the many moments when teachers, coaches, parents, and students address the camera -- or Hollywood Tony himself -- and simply say that this little experiment looks like it's not going to work.  And Danza, in his best moments on screen, seems close to admitting that they might be right.
     It's nice to know he's taking the responsibility seriously.  It's enough to make you want to tune in to A & E next Friday night.  I know I will.  I'd like to see Hollywood Tony have an even tougher time, at least for the short term.