one thing

One thing that's always lacked from my teaching career has been a sense of consistency. I came into my first school in the middle of the year and struggled with my first class. Thirty-three weeks later, I said goodbye to them still asking questions about Mrs. Browning, the teacher I replaced at retirement. Normally, in teaching second grade, you get to see the students pass through the grades before going on to middle school. Not so in that school. Second grade was as high as they went, so off they went "up the hill" to the other elementary school that dealt with the third through fifth grades. It was kind of strange to see second graders get senioritis as they puffed up at the responsibility of being the oldest students in the school.

Four years later, change needed, though feeling some sense of consistency. I knew many of the students at the school, kindergarten on up. Many of the parents knew my face and vice versa. Working with siblings of former students makes things easier at the beginning of the year without a doubt.

Here, I won't get that chance. At a larger school grade-wise, it's even harder to feel that sense of consistency. You get to know the outspoken students in other grades, the ones your colleagues are always talking about, but you don't know them from Adam. In any case, I lost the chance to know two classes of students by looping this year. To top it off, I'm off to a new school next year.

I sure hope that I can get some roots at the next stop on my teaching journey. If I don't, I think I may have to get out of this teaching game. It's too hard to adjust to a new place this often.

testing, testing....

One more marking period to go. One gauntlet of stste-mandated testing in the way. This is going to test my patience with test preparation and what I see as something more worthwhile: actually teaching my students something new, instead of spending what may amount to the rest of the year on review.

They aren't particularly excited about it. I guess I ought to try my best to make it exciting, but who among us really wants to listen to their boring teacher reteach stuff we already learned and learned well?! I could get up on my soapbox and rant and rave about it all, but I know it ain't going away. Only way I can reduce or eliminate testing is to invent a better mousetrap. To a bureaucrat, this testing assault proves everything. To an educator, the testing proves that the bureaucrats know nothing. Maybe I ought to become one someday and shake up their view of the world.

Is it Juneteenth yet?

must be genetic or something

Starting from a young age, I was in a classroom. Not so much as a student, more as a teacher's assistant. Sure, I went to school just like the other kids, but I had teacher workday duty when the rest of my friends were at home watching the Dukes of Hazzard. From a very young age, I learned that teachers bust their humps and bring work home and worry about their students long after the dismissal bell rings. As I progressed in school myself, my involvement in other school functions grew. I began tutoring. Turns out I was pretty good at it. Summers found me volunteering in classrooms of schools nearby, helping English language learners learn basic vocabulary and skills in kindergarten.

When my path to a life of leisure as a forester, riding around in a pickup truck on backcountry roads, measuring trees and such, ended because of some difficulty with entry-level science classes, it was little wonder that I found myself at Norman Hall, surrounded by pretty coeds obsessed with bulletin boards and rubber cement. Again, turns out I'm pretty good at it.Yet again, I figured out why. It's genetic. Mom just won teacher of the year...again. I've said it before, and it bears repeating. If I'm only half the teacher that my mother is, I'll still be one hell of an educator.

Congratulations, Ma!

what a week!

Whew. I can't believe it's finally Friday. Thank goodness!

Big changes this week compel me to give a mid-year update on the state of my classroom. No one ever asks, but it does take a pretty sizeable chunk of my waking hours. My class makes me proud every day. They're generally a well-behaved bunch, nary a troublemaker in sight. The worst behavior I deal with on a daily basis is a bit of motormouth and some out of the seat shenanigans. I can handle that. They actually enjoy learning at a time when I sometimes feel like I'm putting the onus of teaching on them. They're using research skills to teach themselves about ancient civilizations. What's more, they're making the critical connections between them that are going to help them remember the information in the long run. I'm not sure how I taught them to do this, but I sure hope I can replicate that year after year.

We got a SMARTboard this week. For you non-educators out there, it's an interactive whiteboard. Think iPhone meets projector and laptop. (Some videos of SMARTboard-equipped classrooms) I've been working on lessons all year long, and my classroom is now blessed with one. The students really enjoy using it. In math especially, it's a heckuva lot easier to use than tens and ones blocks that I'd been using to teach carrying and borrowing (now under the regrouping umbrella). I'd applied for one in the past, but I hadn't used it a whole lot. This year, I made it my mission to use it weekly. It wasn't hard; the school's shared one is right next door to my classroom.

As with anything new, the more I used it, the easier it got. The time I put in now to develop new lessons will pay off in an easier time using it next year, as I'll be able to tweak the lesson instead of reinvent the wheel. By the time the next new, improved, overpriced technology gizmo comes along, maybe I'll be out of the classroom and into policy or government or administration.

Who knows, that may be next week!

quoted

i subscribe to a few weekly finance newsletters from various newspapers. the one i enjoy the most is written by michelle singletary of the washington post. last week, she asked for some reader responses to a dear prudence column about being underemployed with a college degree. granted, i'm not underemployed, but i do think from time to time about switching career tracks. i responded anyway. here's the context:

Working It Out
A grocery store clerk was wrestling with customer and colleague questions about why he's bagging groceries with a college degree.

The letter made me wonder if others were employed at jobs that weren't satisfying just so they could maintain an income. Here's what some of you wrote:

M. Johnson of Orinda, Calif., says that like the grocery store clerk, he was passed over for a job because he was overqualified and they were fearful he'd resign for another opportunity.

"But more alarming is why they wouldn't bring me on and then hope to create something for me where I could continue to add significant value to the enterprise far beyond my cost to them. Shortsightedness? In this market? Unfortunately," Orinda wrote.

Teacher Ben J. from Arlington, Va., said he's "content to have a job that I enjoy, even if it feels like it controls my life at times."

One Maryland reader, who asked that her name not be used, said that she can "identify completely with the grocery store clerk." She graduated from a top school and took a fellowship that paid $26,000.

"I loved my job, but I would often skip meals just to make sure I was making my bills," she wrote. "I found work at a high-end retail store in sales and actually make significantly more than before. But I still get asked all the time why I'm not using my degree or what I'm doing there. Sometimes I feel like responding, 'I enjoy eating lunch.'"

Joseph Zairo of Pa., puts it all in perspective: "I get up at 4:30 a.m. and as I am getting ready for work I think about and plan for the day. I try to make things interesting. Work is work."

crushed hopes

every time we get our hopes up and try to plan for weather, it crushes our hopes. it's like a perfect game. from here on out, no mention of snow or rain or sleet or ice until it actually happens.

i guess i should go get dressed. wearing pajamas to school is generally frowned upon when you're the teacher.

teachers' pay

i got this email years ago. i used to think that it was hilarious and sad and pointedly cynical. now, it probably needs adjustment.

Teachers are paid too much!
I'm fed up with teachers and their hefty salaries for only 9 months work! What we need here is a little perspective. If I had my way, I'd pay teachers babysitting wages. In the end, that's all they really are - glorified babysitters. Obviously, kids aren't learning anything from them.

That's right. Instead of paying such outrageous taxes to keep teachers living in style, I'd give them $3.00 an hour. And, I'm only going to pay them for 5 hours, not for all that luxury "planning time." So, that would equate to $15.00 a day. Each parent should pay $15.00 a day for these teachers to babysit their children. Even if you have more than one child, it's still cheaper than private daycare.

Now, how many children do they teach a day - maybe 20? So that's $15.00 x 20 kids = $300.00 a day. But remember, they only work 180 days a year! I'm not about to pay them for all that vacation time! So that's $300 a day x 180 days = $54,000.

To be fair, there are some good teachers out there who have lots of experience, a solid record and a maybe a master's degree. Maybe we could agree to pay them minimum wage. We can round that off to about $6.00 an hour x 5 hours x 20 children. So that's $6.00 x 5 x 20, which comes to $600 a day. $600 x 180 days.

Wait a minute! That's $108,000 -- there's something wrong here!

so, now, let's adjust it to the new minimum wage rates. $6.55/hour x 5 hours = $32.75 per day, per kid. 20 kids is a generously low estimate; in today's classroom and economy, that's likely to go up by 3 kids next year. that's $753.25 per day, per teacher. yearly salary, $135,585. when the minimum wage adjusts in july, the uptick will be a shade north of $150K.

sounds good to me!

asdf jkl;

sometimes i wish they'd just leave us to teach. no interference about content or mandates or testing. tell us how well they need to read by the end of the year and (gasp!) let us use that so-called expertise they require of us but rarely let us use.

i'm not sure where that came from. my fingers just rolled with it. i guess i've got some pent up angst over not being allowed to teach something fun this time of year. the kids are mentally checked out, and we've got four full school days until winter break. i'm barely here myself, though i will admit getting out of bed in the morning is far easier this year than it was last year. that brings my career batting average to .500 i guess.

i suppose we'll have to see how the rest of the year pans out, what with testing and all. i really should get out of here while the last rays of sunlight are still on the horizon. doesn't look like we'll be seeing much of mr. sun this winter. at least the weekend forecast calls for a few rays...

no more pencils, no more books...

no more teachers' dirty looks!

today is babysitting day. i'll put them to work cleaning and whatnot, but it's pretty much a wasted day. a time to say goodbye and good luck. this year is different than those past in my career in that i'll actually get to see these munchkins next year. i'll get to see them grow and change all the way through sixth grade. the last four have been particularly difficult on the last day because i knew full well i wouldn't see the kids again. teaching at a school where second graders were the oldest kids was simultaneously awesome and heart wrenching. there were often tears on both sides as i said goodbye to students that i knew would never be able to visit irby again. houses too far out in the country. moving elsewhere. parents unwilling or unable to bring them after school or bring them to school events. last year was the hardest. telling my kids i was leaving a school that i loved for an uncertain future overseas. it was rough. one girl in particular, i'll never forget. her sister was in my first class, she was in headstart that year. i'd seen her grow into a pretty amazing little girl in four years, and me leaving was pretty tough on her. we keep in touch with email now, and maybe i'll get to see her in alachua when i pass through town next week.

the parents always ask me at the end of the year, "aren't you glad it's summer?" with a twinge of jealousy in their voices, since they don't have summers off jobs, or they've got the kids at home and less peace and quiet for 2 months. it's a bittersweet ending every year. each class is different. the fresh start in the fall is always interesting, but getting to know twenty or so new kids isn't as easy as seeing the same ones and knowing their quirks and how they learn best and what they enjoy.

next year figures to be a mix of old and new, if i indeed do teach third grade. some of this year's goodbyes will undoubtedly be some of next year's hellos. we'll see how it all shakes out...

in the interest of my sanity

positivity is hard to maintain at this time of year. the end-of-the-year stresses outside of the classroom. the deteriorating behavior inside of it. from here on out, i'm going to have to follow a rant with a rose-colored glasses look at work, because i hate being so down on so few, when i should be high on success.

edition one. this boy struggles with writing. he's still learning english, though you'd never know it to have a conversation with him. he's a fluent speaker in two languages, with little trace of his native spanish. he busts his hump day in, day out, with the best attitude you'd ever want to have in a student. give me a class full of him, i'll be challenged, but happy. he's made a year's growth this year in reading. today, he wrote his best paragraph all year. on topic, five sentences, clear ideas, main idea, details. all it took was that little extra support before he started writing. instead of head-scratching confusion, he wrote for thirty minutes like he knew what he was doing. now i finally know what it takes for him to succeed in writing. too bad it was so late in the year!

unintended consequences

mainstreaming is the newest and greatest development in special education since, well, defining kids by how different they are. for non-teachers, it's what happens when we decide a student is different, label them as different but fitting into a group, then stick them in a regular education classroom with 20+ other kids who are different and a little bit strange in their own special ways. it works for some kids. my guess is the intention is to teach everyone a little empathy for differences and give that special child some positive role models on how to behave in a "normal" classroom.

my classroom is far from normal, as i'm sure you've gathered. an unintended consequence of the mainstreaming of these special little guys and gals is the teacher spending more of their time dealing with that student's issues than with the other 20+ students thirsting for attention and knowledge and success. unfairly, that one child will stick in the mind of that teacher for years and years, while the sweet, quiet ones that were model students get lodged in the back of the memory bank where they'll remain until they walk in the door 15 years later, "do you remember me, mr. j?"

were you the one that threw your scissors and crayons when you were frustrated? "no." were you the one that kicked and scratched the substitute when i was absent, at training to learn how to deal with you? "no." oh, i've got it, are you the one who ran from me and the administrators into traffic when you had to sit out because you were a little shit in music class one day? "no." well, i'm sorry, then, i don't remember you. the 90% of the students who don't do these outlandish things, the 90% whose parents raised them to have some semblance of respect for adults and a love of learning, the 90% that you want your own children to be, are the exact same students that disappear from memory first.

another unintended consequence is the exact opposite of the positive influence the class is supposed to have on this child. instead of that occurring, and the troubled one becoming a better student and ultimately citizen for it, the reverse occurs. that child becomes a unwitting negative influence on others in the class. he cries when he can't/won't do his work, others notice that teacher gives attention, and he does less work or leaves the room with another teacher to complete the work. "hey, i like attention. i'll do the same thing."

and that is exactly what is going on right now. one student has picked up on the attention given to this special child because of his outbursts, and has decided to emulate them. tears, pulling hair, yelling at me. i'm done with it. it's over. i can't explain to him that the special one is special because he doesn't see that. he's too young to understand what kind of differences they have; all he knows is that his friend gets more attention when he cries and acts out, and it's not the same negative attention he'd get at home from his parents. guidance counselor wants to "talk it out" with him, see if we can get to the root of the issue. i'll tell you right now: child number one, that gets all the attention because of his issues, should not be mainstreamed. his disruptions have ruined a year of learning for all but a few of my students. i love this kid, he's funny and intelligent, i may even have him in my class next year if i get to move to third grade, but the effect he's had on the other 90% of the class wasn't worth it.

work dreams

work is creeping into my dreams. it happens every year. for about eighty percent of the year, no worries when i walk out that door. i focus on life. outwardly, it would seem the same is true for the last twenty. subconsciously, apparently not the case. right now, assessment insanity at work. my poor 21 munchkins have been subjected to many, many out-of-the-ordinary reading tests one-on-one with me.

"here, read this book out loud. i'm going to listen to you read, and write down everything you say. don't be nervous."

yeah, right. doesn't even faze my high-achieving ones. attention problems. strugglers. yeah, they flip. they read worse than i know they're capable of, and ethically, i can't do a damn thing about it. i've got to call it as i see it, even if the day-to-day reality is far different than what that thirty minutes or less on that one day shows.

my college courses always said, "a test is one piece of information. assessment is ongoing." practice thus far has shown that to be bullshit. if it weren't, wouldn't assessment creep into my dreams year-round?

that's what i thought.

lessons from mum

way back when, clip-on ties became uncool and it became necessary to learn how to tie a real necktie. according to gq, esquire, and various other men's magazines, it is just one of those skills of a gentleman. my father knows how to tie one, he just rarely wears them. my mother was the one that taught me. i think. why is it the same in many movies the women are the ones teaching their sons or tying their husband's tie?

movie one, the american president. michael douglas, as the president of the united states, can't tie his own tie. his daughter lucy ties it for him. she learned how from her mother. no son in the picture, but why doesn't the pres know how?

last night, i watched part of a german drama called the lives of others. the playwright georg is having a 40th birthday party. his girlfriend buys him a tie, teasing him about not being able to tie one. of course, he denies that and disappears to do so. while struggling with it, he pokes his head out into the hall to grab his neighbor to help him tie it. the neighbor? a woman.

today at work, it's necktie day as part of spirit week. i was asked to tie two ties today, for women oddly enough, when i realized that i can't tie them for others, only myself. somehow i need to hone that skill someday i can pass it along to my son when he graduates from clip-ons...

appreciation

maybe it's because i'm a man in a mostly female work environment. maybe it's because i'm a cynic. maybe it's because i'm grumpy. this week is teacher appreciation week. i dread this week every year. why?

the appreciation doled out by our parents and administration is made with the best of intentions. i didn't get into teaching for the accolades or six-figure paychecks. lord knows neither one is coming around anytime soon!

the parents that give their all to show their appreciation during these weeks are the parents whose kids will succeed regardless of who's in the classroom. why? because they care. these parents see schools as only part of the equation in raising their children, not the whole kit and caboodle. these parents know that their kids will never make it in this world if they pass off their parenting responsiblities to a different person each year, realizing the constant of their parenting has far more impact. sure, these kids will always remember their favorite teachers, as i do. the ones that extolled the virtue of raising your voice at injustice (mr. deveney), the ones that connected subject matter to real life (mr. beames), the ones that let you slack off senior year (mrs. goldwyn), or the ones that made learning fun (mrs. harris, mrs. lombard, mrs. lay, mrs. stafford).

the administration? well, it'd be nice if it felt like we were on the same team most of the time. problem is, our new era of principals and their ilk are more concerned with test scores and budgets than getting to know the kids or connecting with their staff. dr. hirsch was the best first principal i could've hoped for. she was old school. encouraging, wise, loving. even when i screwed up, i could count on her to help me out. no child left behind administrations don't care as much unless your kids perform well on the Almighty Test. that's what i'd appreciate. guidance. yeah, i'm five years in, but i never feel that way. there's always much to learn, and aside from a workshop off-site, i never feel like i'm getting the resources i need from my own school. shouldn't that be the way to show your appreciation? to further my professional development by learning from your wisdom, rather than telling me what workshop to go to or what test score to strive for?

keep your recipe books and mary kay gift cards. if i can't glean some knowledge from this place, what incentive to i have to stay?

the sound of silence

ever work with someone that can't stop talking? back in the day, there was this ned flanders clone that i worked with. every morning at the job site, he'd be happy as a pig in shit. forgive the language, but let's remember that i'm talking about my redneck roots. anyhow, in this story, i am homer simpson in my distaste for ned's upbeat and often judgmental comments emanating from beneath his pushbroom mustache. there was just something about his holier-than-thou attitude that made his constant chatter the bane of my workday. it finally got to me one day. his insistence on calling me benny-boy or son snapped the camel's back. i went off on him. he wasn't the boss, and he wasn't a good co-worker. he didn't respect me, it showed daily, and i lost it.

i've worked other places since where a co-worker has had the tendency to fill silence with inane chatter. more often than not, i deal with it better now; however, the smothering of mothering has gotten to me from time to time. the difference is that now it's out of kindness and helpfulness and not a need to feel superior to me. still though, i'm starting to tune out those co-workers when i ought not to. i prefer silence often, and i also use my mp3 player to keep my focus. my palmer-induced ADD makes it hard enough to focus without interruptions.

am i developing the male tendency towards selective listening? or am i truly ADD and having trouble coping?

tee hee!

today, one of my students was sneaking out of the bathroom. when i asked him to flush and put the seat down, he got this deer in the headlights look. not unlike a kid that's done something wrong. not terribly wrong, like caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"i didn't go to the bathroom."
"well, then what were you doing in the bathroom?"
"um, it's kind of embarrassing..."

we quietly walk back into the bathroom, i half-close the door, and motion for him to whisper it in my ear.

quiet as a mouse came the explanation, "i had to fart."

the asylum

the inmates are running the asylum. far from being comical like the movie, it's quite sad. how far is it going to go before we teachers cede control of our schools to the parents, and we all find new jobs?

immigrant song

my midweek mental musings...

living in florida my whole life made me almost blind to the immigrant experience. it was all around me, and perhaps i subconsciously blocked it out. i didn't know of the struggles that they had trying to assimilate. college was no better. i was surrounded by primarily privileged white students, especially in the college of ed. norman hall was a world like no other (perhaps nursing?)--filled with females mostly differentiated by the greek letters on their t-shirts or the color of their hair.

in and around the district, immigration is a hot button issue of late. several counties have closed day laborer centers where people could pick up day laborers in the morning, pay them under the table, and drop them off at night. some counties have mandated that citizenship checks be performed at traffic stops. there's a big uproar from advocacy groups and xenophobes alike. my neighborhood is largely hispanic. most people are very friendly to strangers, a quick smile and a nod hello. i really dig it.

this week, the struggles and worries of undocumented immigrants were brought home in my eyes. we're going on a field trip to the white house in 2 months. for background security, the secret service requested all kinds of information. it never occurred to me that some of this information might cause consternation among some parents. they worry that it will be cross-referenced with INS or homeland security, and their family will be torn apart for a school field trip. it's a touchy subject, as the school actually has no right to ask about citizenship status these days. we don't ask, they don't tell. these parents are among my most caring. they want a better life for their children and see school as the route to that life. they struggle with communicating with the school, culturally shocked into the american belief that education is a team effort. often, their culture dictates that teachers are almost revered. it's very hard to communicate our different expectations and the equal footing that we share in educating their child. whether or not they speak english is a moot point sometimes, as learning english isn't the same as speaking english. once you take away the context of face-to-face interactions, even a simple phone call about homework becomes an exercise in linguistics to make the conversation as comprehensible as possible. it's tricky and exhausting and ultimately satisfying when that rapport is built and the divide is reduced. short of learning a new language a year, i doubt i'll ever excel at it. just enough to be competent and show that i care is all some of these parents need.

that's assault, brotha!

no, not me. at least not today. one of the subs at our school was bitten this morning by one of the special ed kids. this little guy is a biter. he's bitten several staff members this year. today, he drew blood--through a sweatshirt. was he sent home? no. does he know it's wrong? they say he does. he's in a self-contained classroom with few kids and many adults. he's getting as much help as is possible.

i've been assaulted twice in five years. in both cases, the assailants in question need more help than is available in a regular classroom. due to the glory of mainstreaming and my "luck"(?) as a male in the school, they were my charges. first case, i'd figured out that the easiest way to calm him when he melted down was to wrap him up. he got a hand loose and frogged me right in the forearm. i had a knot for two days. i think he was sent home that day, but not suspended. in third grade, he was baker acted twice for being a danger to himself and others. he's been in a mental institution for a few years now. most recent one had an alphabet soup of diagnoses. his meltdown quickly deteriorated into shoe throwing, hitting himself, screaming, and scratching me after i removed him from the room. same week, he stomped on another staff member's foot and had a nuclear meltdown damn near every day. sent home? not a chance.

if i had to venture a guess, these are things that my mother never had to deal with as a young teacher starting out, nor were they tolerated by the administration. the defective policy of mainstreaming in all cases hadn't been dreamed up by policy wonks with no basis in the realities of the classroom. in a real classroom, the teacher spends more time and energy on the needs of those few than the rest of the class. sure, some of the neglected will learn in spite of the teacher. the middle majority suffers, while the teacher frets day and night about how to deal with that child and get back to teaching the rest of the class.

workplace safety is something that i never thought i'd have to worry about. i work with kids for God's sake! how far does it have to go before it starts getting better?

delayed, round two

without christmas shopping to do, i'm busy killing time until i have to leave for work. traffic news is a mess. overturned vehicles everywhere. accidents on my route to work. hopefully the black ice will melt by the time i have to leave.

(for my loyal florida readers, black ice is quite possibly the most treacherous road condition i have ever come across. yes, including s. fla. flooding. with flooding, you go slow, but you don't lose control. black ice occurs when the roads are wet and the temperature drops slowly to below freezing. the water on the roads and sidewalks freezes from the ground up, leaving a thin layer of water on top of already slick ice. think cooking oil on a tile floor wearing bowling shoes. marbles on a bowling lane wearing roller skates. as the boys down south say, slicker than snot on a doorknob. i was first humbled by black ice in indy super bowl sunday 7 years ago. pulled into a parking lot full of it, going five mph. back end of my truck started coming around...and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop the slide short of aiming for a bush.)