(With apologies to Hank and Bruce)
I had an English professor in undergrad who loved - LOVED - to reference the moment Clyde Griffiths, from the torturous An American Tragedy, walks into the lobby of a high class Kansas City Hotel and forever falls in love with all that money can buy.
Well, I hope I come to a better end than Clyde, but after working for five years in a cramped fifty-year old building that is replete with immortal ant colonies, equipped with one computer lab that is impossible to schedule much time in, serviced by a severely undermanned janitorial staff, and air-controlled by boiler heat and window unit a/c, it was impossible for me not to feel the allure of a clean, equipped, orderly, and comfortable school house. Who wouldn't feel it?
There is a measure of guilt here. Don't the poorer kids where I've been teaching deserve the same facilities and opportunities? Without question they do, and in a transcendentally just world they would get it. But we don't live in that world, and I can't resist getting excited about the more spacious rooms, the plentiful LCD projectors, and just the relative sheen of it all. (And this isn't even the spankiest school building in the county).
I appreciate you (we) taxpayers, I promise.
21 May 2007
19 May 2007
Reason #1: It's The Behavior, Stupid.
Teacher turnover is certainly not unusual, and I don't want to give the impression that my move is some earth-shattering event. The education system is set up for the free-flow of teachers and administrators, and each year brings more change than any company, big or small, would want to deal with at once. In one way this speaks ill of the profession; to all-emcompassing bureaucracies, after all, the individual matters little, and is easily replaced by other "professionals" who also matter little. I'll save further commentary on this quandary for another day, but will point out that as an English teacher I relish the unique opportunity I get to strike at the bureaucratic mindset that created the system I work for (Hector and Achilles were both irreplaceable, and how could anyone but Lizzy have been right for Darcy, or anyone but Darcy have been right for Lizzy?).
To return to the stated topic, though, I want to explore some of my reasons for switching schools, aside from the obvious ones of proximity and pay increase. The first, maybe most alluring one for me, involves student behavior.
If you were to stand in the hallways of my school between classes, and were not used to being around hundreds of teenagers at once, my guess is that you would quickly display symptoms of a panic attack. The noise is deafening, the laughter is out of control, the language crude, and the attitude extremely nonchalant. It's a "I might make it to class on time, or I might not, but I will be loud regardless" kind of approach. This extends into the classroom, where it takes many kids ten minutes to calm down and get their things out, and there will be at least five in even a small class without proper materials. Yes, we could write all this up every day, but both we and the kids know we won't. It would take a good fifteen minutes to do five, or ten, write-ups, and time is a precious commodity. Plus the principals would literally not have time to do anything but handle discipline, and would probably start to give us cross stares. Most of us, for better or worse, save our referrals for the big-time stuff, and try to handle the rest ourselves. On top of all this, we have a consistently high minority of students whose personal dramas, and the special accompaniments of said dramas (notes read and written in class, constant harping to "go to the bathroom" or "get water", crying or heads down in depression, lack of sleep), completely affect everyone and everything around them.
Now, when I spoke with one of the assistant principals at my new school who used to work at my current school, and was an assistant principal at another school in the same county, one of the first things she told me was that she no longer spends much time at all on discipline. At the previous school she worked at, though, all she did all day was deal with discipline problems. She told me it was night and day. On the day of my interview I was at the school for over two hours, which was enough time for me to notice the lack of noise or chaos I am so used to, and I popped my head in to a couple of classes where I saw nothing resembling out of control behavior.
To be sure, there will be disciplinary challenges for me in the new position; I know these kids will be nowhere near perfect. But relatively speaking, based on what I saw and have heard from others, life will be much easier on that front. Still, what accounts for the apparent disparity?
I don't pretend to an expert, so I will lean on two recent opinions I heard that I think partially explain why the behavior at my current school is so bad. First, as one of my colleagues pointed out, a sizeable number of our students come from homes with single parents who are still in their thirties, or they live with grandma and (maybe) grandpa, or there is no parent present at all (I know of a few cases where the kid lives alone or only with older siblings). What you get from such a toxic social mix is poison, my friends, pure and simple. Try hiring one of these kids some day and you'll see.
A thoughtful senior student of mine pointed something else out to me the other day, though, that should also be factored in. Because our school serves a small town/community, and so many of the kids and teachers know each other so well already, she believes the kids feel no sense of discomfort when they enter the school building. It is no different than home for them, and they hold it in contempt because of that. This is an excellent point, and I can refer to the number of kids who love to kick their feet up on desks and chairs while I'm trying to instruct them as anecdotal evidence as such.
One question, though. The school served a small, probably tighter community fifty years ago, and for succeeding decades we all know the discipline was not a major issue. Why not, when the same level of familiarity existed then? Without writing for days on this question, I would sum up my answer by saying welcome to the world of Informalmania, where we question authority and raise consciousness and watch aging baby boomers pretend they are still 16. However, those of us who are more ambitious and on surer footing will make sure our kids don't take this to an extreme so that it detracts from their ability to make good grades and excel in other ways. We understand that formality at times is essential. It's the rest of those kids, the ones with the aformentioned home lives, that don't understand we are all just playing around. Unlucky chumps.
There are more of those kids at my current school, it is fair to say, than will be at my new school. That is the crux of the behavioral difference. And that leads me, logically, to reason #2 in the next installment.
To return to the stated topic, though, I want to explore some of my reasons for switching schools, aside from the obvious ones of proximity and pay increase. The first, maybe most alluring one for me, involves student behavior.
If you were to stand in the hallways of my school between classes, and were not used to being around hundreds of teenagers at once, my guess is that you would quickly display symptoms of a panic attack. The noise is deafening, the laughter is out of control, the language crude, and the attitude extremely nonchalant. It's a "I might make it to class on time, or I might not, but I will be loud regardless" kind of approach. This extends into the classroom, where it takes many kids ten minutes to calm down and get their things out, and there will be at least five in even a small class without proper materials. Yes, we could write all this up every day, but both we and the kids know we won't. It would take a good fifteen minutes to do five, or ten, write-ups, and time is a precious commodity. Plus the principals would literally not have time to do anything but handle discipline, and would probably start to give us cross stares. Most of us, for better or worse, save our referrals for the big-time stuff, and try to handle the rest ourselves. On top of all this, we have a consistently high minority of students whose personal dramas, and the special accompaniments of said dramas (notes read and written in class, constant harping to "go to the bathroom" or "get water", crying or heads down in depression, lack of sleep), completely affect everyone and everything around them.
Now, when I spoke with one of the assistant principals at my new school who used to work at my current school, and was an assistant principal at another school in the same county, one of the first things she told me was that she no longer spends much time at all on discipline. At the previous school she worked at, though, all she did all day was deal with discipline problems. She told me it was night and day. On the day of my interview I was at the school for over two hours, which was enough time for me to notice the lack of noise or chaos I am so used to, and I popped my head in to a couple of classes where I saw nothing resembling out of control behavior.
To be sure, there will be disciplinary challenges for me in the new position; I know these kids will be nowhere near perfect. But relatively speaking, based on what I saw and have heard from others, life will be much easier on that front. Still, what accounts for the apparent disparity?
I don't pretend to an expert, so I will lean on two recent opinions I heard that I think partially explain why the behavior at my current school is so bad. First, as one of my colleagues pointed out, a sizeable number of our students come from homes with single parents who are still in their thirties, or they live with grandma and (maybe) grandpa, or there is no parent present at all (I know of a few cases where the kid lives alone or only with older siblings). What you get from such a toxic social mix is poison, my friends, pure and simple. Try hiring one of these kids some day and you'll see.
A thoughtful senior student of mine pointed something else out to me the other day, though, that should also be factored in. Because our school serves a small town/community, and so many of the kids and teachers know each other so well already, she believes the kids feel no sense of discomfort when they enter the school building. It is no different than home for them, and they hold it in contempt because of that. This is an excellent point, and I can refer to the number of kids who love to kick their feet up on desks and chairs while I'm trying to instruct them as anecdotal evidence as such.
One question, though. The school served a small, probably tighter community fifty years ago, and for succeeding decades we all know the discipline was not a major issue. Why not, when the same level of familiarity existed then? Without writing for days on this question, I would sum up my answer by saying welcome to the world of Informalmania, where we question authority and raise consciousness and watch aging baby boomers pretend they are still 16. However, those of us who are more ambitious and on surer footing will make sure our kids don't take this to an extreme so that it detracts from their ability to make good grades and excel in other ways. We understand that formality at times is essential. It's the rest of those kids, the ones with the aformentioned home lives, that don't understand we are all just playing around. Unlucky chumps.
There are more of those kids at my current school, it is fair to say, than will be at my new school. That is the crux of the behavioral difference. And that leads me, logically, to reason #2 in the next installment.
15 May 2007
It's Official!
As of yesterday afternoon, in fact.
I have been offered the position that I interviewed for last month, and have accepted. This is very exciting for a variety of reasons, including the following: school with a great reputation, 1/3 the commute, working in my home school system and on the same calendar my son is on, a little bump in pay, and a signing bonus I wasn't even aware of.
While I am elated (perhaps mostly because the trauma of waiting to hear is behind me), I have a host of mixed thoughts and emotions about all of this. I've had kids cry about it already, or just look at me doe-eyed, like if they do that long enough I might change my mind. And you know, if anything could, it would be those kids - the ones I love beyond anyone outside of my family members. But, as I told them, they always end up leaving me in the end. In an occupation full of impermanence, I can't forever pass up opportunities to improve my lot - my family's lot.
In the coming days, I want to use the blog to reflect on all this - what I think is in store for me, and what my experience at my current school has meant. Please indulge me, gentle reader.
I have been offered the position that I interviewed for last month, and have accepted. This is very exciting for a variety of reasons, including the following: school with a great reputation, 1/3 the commute, working in my home school system and on the same calendar my son is on, a little bump in pay, and a signing bonus I wasn't even aware of.
While I am elated (perhaps mostly because the trauma of waiting to hear is behind me), I have a host of mixed thoughts and emotions about all of this. I've had kids cry about it already, or just look at me doe-eyed, like if they do that long enough I might change my mind. And you know, if anything could, it would be those kids - the ones I love beyond anyone outside of my family members. But, as I told them, they always end up leaving me in the end. In an occupation full of impermanence, I can't forever pass up opportunities to improve my lot - my family's lot.
In the coming days, I want to use the blog to reflect on all this - what I think is in store for me, and what my experience at my current school has meant. Please indulge me, gentle reader.
13 May 2007
PK's
One of my yearbook editors is a Preacher's Kid (PK), and she fits the stereotype quite well. She is spoiled, mostly unsoiled by the milk of human compassion, and though not a delinquent, certainly a bit on the wild side. In addition, she lacks a filter between her brain and her mouth. Yet, in some way she maintains a certain loveable quality - perhaps because she buys us off by saying outrageous, but amusing things. In any case, here is a snatch of conversation with her from Thursday:
Me: (entering room and seeing her on my computer) Oh, hey. What are you doing?
PK: I'm downloading my Beta Club field trip pictures from yesterday. But I've got to get back to class. So I'll clean off the other stuff that is downloading when I come back 4th period.
Me: (sporting worried brow) Other stuff?
PK: Just some videos on my camera.
Me: (sporting spiked worried brow) Videos?
PK: Don't worry - it's not like it's porn. Just some videos of us drinking.
Me: Oh, well thank God that's all.
Me: (entering room and seeing her on my computer) Oh, hey. What are you doing?
PK: I'm downloading my Beta Club field trip pictures from yesterday. But I've got to get back to class. So I'll clean off the other stuff that is downloading when I come back 4th period.
Me: (sporting worried brow) Other stuff?
PK: Just some videos on my camera.
Me: (sporting spiked worried brow) Videos?
PK: Don't worry - it's not like it's porn. Just some videos of us drinking.
Me: Oh, well thank God that's all.
08 May 2007
Steady Descent to Hell
Incidentally, my comments are now back on unmoderated. Should have handled that a while ago, but have been too lazy. I have other changes I need to make to the site, but they may wait until summer. As for school:
It feels that we are on that aforementioned descent lately at my little folksy rural school. Last week brought rumors of a "Bloods-Wannabees" vs. "Crips-Wannabees" fight pending at any time. The only solace is that the kids rumored to be involved have all shown themselves to be wimps in the past (thankfully). My uncharitable side says,"Hey fellas, I'm all for you taking each other out. Just have the decency to have the rumble in one of your own backyards, and not in public where you endanger what passes for our remnants of civilization."
And then this morning I had to write up five students who disrupted class with a screaming fit, all brought on because a boy of Mexican descent wrote "Mexico" on the back of a paper he was grading. The paper belonged to a girl of Honduran descent who gets unreasonably angry whenever others poke fun of her accent or nation of heritage. The next thing you know, the boy's pregnant sister, who happens to be my teacher's aide that period, is yelling in an attempt to defend her brother's honor, and the whole class seems about to blow. How much learning did we get accomplished today, boys and girls?
You know what would really be entertaining? To tell that little story over dinner with Pat Buchanon, Tom Tancredo, and most of my family members. Would be a laugh riot, let me tell you.
The overwhelming majority of teachers I know will teach and love most anyone you put before them in class. But if you took a private opinion poll on immigration matters, no matter their general political leanings, you would find a great majority lining up right of center. To paraphrase Irving Kristol, reality can be a hell of a mugger.
It feels that we are on that aforementioned descent lately at my little folksy rural school. Last week brought rumors of a "Bloods-Wannabees" vs. "Crips-Wannabees" fight pending at any time. The only solace is that the kids rumored to be involved have all shown themselves to be wimps in the past (thankfully). My uncharitable side says,"Hey fellas, I'm all for you taking each other out. Just have the decency to have the rumble in one of your own backyards, and not in public where you endanger what passes for our remnants of civilization."
And then this morning I had to write up five students who disrupted class with a screaming fit, all brought on because a boy of Mexican descent wrote "Mexico" on the back of a paper he was grading. The paper belonged to a girl of Honduran descent who gets unreasonably angry whenever others poke fun of her accent or nation of heritage. The next thing you know, the boy's pregnant sister, who happens to be my teacher's aide that period, is yelling in an attempt to defend her brother's honor, and the whole class seems about to blow. How much learning did we get accomplished today, boys and girls?
You know what would really be entertaining? To tell that little story over dinner with Pat Buchanon, Tom Tancredo, and most of my family members. Would be a laugh riot, let me tell you.
The overwhelming majority of teachers I know will teach and love most anyone you put before them in class. But if you took a private opinion poll on immigration matters, no matter their general political leanings, you would find a great majority lining up right of center. To paraphrase Irving Kristol, reality can be a hell of a mugger.
04 May 2007
Big 'uns and Little 'uns
School systems, that is. It has always amazed me how my school system, a mere 50 miles from gigantic (relatively speaking) Wake County/Raleigh, is SO on the opposite end of the spectrum, in its problems and day-to-day issues, from the Wake County district. And yet, as in much of the country, both areas share this: constant anxiety and trauma revolving around school issues. Let's look at the last couple of weeks, starting with the Big Guys in Wake.
1. Yesterday a judge ruled that the Wake school board cannot make a year-round school schedule mandatory for thousands of students next year. The board has argued that this move was necessary to best accomodate a student population that, thanks to a constant uber-population boom in the county, continues to expand in huge numbers. The board is now meeting to determine how to proceed. One option that some of them swear is inevitable is to put some elementary kids on "shift schedules", whereby some would go to school from 7:00 to 1:30, and others from 2:00 to 8:00. Since I have no dog (well, actually no child) in this fight, it is easy for me to boldy predict that such schedules will never happen. Truthfully, I doubt they will (you want to talk about PISSING PEOPLE OFF!), but if I lived, or taught, in Wake County I would be darned nervous.
Soon we may have to add "schools" to the infamous list of taboo dinner-table topics previously restricted (in general) to "religion" and "politics".
2. And now for something completely different, let's check out things in Ruralville. You know, I wouldn't trade my Southern heritage with anyone's, but that doesn't mean the old "local yokels" way of doing things in small Southern communities can't be severely embarrassing. Before I give you a story excerpt, from which you can draw your own conclusions (and especially if you are a Southerner, I expect you will at least chuckle), let me just point out that my school is filthy. FILTHY! We have two janitors who are sweet but past their primes, and who manage to only empty the trash and do a quick sweep through our rooms each day. The sweeping does not include getting in corners, or under teachers' desks, so dust bunnies abound. We get one mop and wax over the summer, and no dusting. Teachers routinely clean their own rooms to make up the deficit (well, some teachers do - ahem). So, the principals of the county decided to push the issue with the superintendent, who in turn was asked by the school board to look into contracting out our janitorial services. Now, read with delight (slightly altered by moi):
It was a night filled with emotion, confusion, confrontation and, in the end, victory for the more than 40 _______ County Schools custodians, as the ________ County Board of Education voted to reject privatization of custodial services Monday night.
After it asked superintendent Dr. ________to provide a cost comparison a few months back, he recommended the board approve SCC Service Solutions Monday night because of the companies “willingness” to work with and employ all the current ________County custodial employees.
With a standing-room only crowd in the central office auditorium, over 30 custodians, their fate, they said, hanging in the balance, listened as the school board prepared to vote .
“This is not just saving money,” Superintendent ________ assured the audience. “Because if it were, we would contract the services out; this was about the principals and the board asking me to check into this, and that is what I did ... SCC Service Solutions offered the best product and offered all of our current employees jobs.”
Custodians began the meeting by delivering impassioned pleas to the board for their livelihood.
“I love my job here,” said custodian ______________. “We are the eyes and ears of the school system, and a lot of times we are first responders to your children’s needs.”
Custodian G____________ followed. “I don’t want to lose my job,” she told the board. “I don’t understand how going to privatization will change things for the better. I hope and pray that the board considers what you are doing very carefully and look at this a little deeper.”
Perhaps the most thought-provoking commentary came from custodian E______.
“There is more involved than just a decision,” he said. “There is so much at stake here tonight. The decision you will make will be a decision that will effect so many lives, so many homes ... What will we do? Privatization is not going to save _______ County anything. People that are not working will have to get aid and funding from the county; it just doesn’t make any sense whatsoever”
Although Superintendent ___________ explained that he was sympathetic to the custodians and their plight, he still had to present his findings to the board.
“A lot of the things that were said here tonight, I agree with,” he said. “But the fact is that our custodial staff is still severely undermanned. If someone is out, we cannot fill that position, and the work does not get done. You know, these are hard decisions to make, but they have to be made in the best interest of the school system. We have to look at this and keep moving forward. The principals were unanimous in their decision (for privatization), and the board asked me to look at it, so I did. Some bids were lower, but SCC Service Solutions offered the best for our current employees.”
With that said, he recommended the board approve the proposal from SCC Service Solutions for the 2007-08 school year.
Not one board member made the motion to accept.
“In light of what we have heard tonight, I think that we really need to sit down and take a closer look at what this will do to our workers — I want to make a motion that we table this issue until the next meeting,” board member T__________said.
The crowd erupted with “no’s.”
With no one seconding S_______’s motion, board member R________ unexpectedly asked that the board approve the recommendation, to a stunned audience. One custodian in the crowd cried, “No, No ... Oh no.”
As chairman N___________ asked for the motion to be seconded, board member D____ W_____ lashed out at the board.
“I would like to say, I think that we are being asked to take a philosophical position on this. In that sense, if we approve this, what would happen if you are gone next year and we have a new superintendent who decides to cancel the contract? We never know what is going to happen next — the cafeteria people are low paid too. We have got to understand the views and fears that our custodians face with this decision. How would we feel if it was done to us ... I was always taught from the Bible, do unto others as you would have done onto you — I just cannot support this.”
The crowd erupted in applause.
A visibly stunned superintendent quickly countered. “Ms. W_____, this is not about me. If the board doesn’t want to support this, that is fine. We need to take a look at what is best for our school system ...”
W_______ shot back. “Our seven board members are evaluated every four years by _________ County voters, no matter what. The custodians should each be evaluated too. If they are not doing their job, they need to be terminated.”
Again, W__________’s comments were greeted with rousing applause.
“Ms. W_______,” said the superintendent, “I am not saying that they are not doing a good job — it is not about that. It still doesn’t hide the fact that we are severely undermanned. If this board is willing to take local money, then we can do that too.”
W_____ shot back again at him. “Five thousand dollars in our budget for school equipment doesn’t pay for a lot of buffers,” she said sarcastically. “I look at it like my house — if I don’t have tools to work with, it won’t be clean. All I am saying is give them a chance to do a good job.”
The superintendent reiterated that it wasn’t about the performance of the current custodial staff, it was about getting more man hours to help the school look cleaner.
“I would like to say that this was never about the performance of the workers,” said board member M________. “There was a lot of miscommunication about that. The board was looking out for getting more man hours in the schools. We appreciate the hard work and the commitment that you have; you are doing a great job. It was about getting the help. We were concerned about you being overworked.”
At that point, W______ made a motion to have Hobb’s recommendation rejected, again to rousing applause.
Inexplicably, R______, who previously asked to have Hobb’s recommendation approved, seconded her motion.
It was unanimous.
After the decision, the custodians gathered outside to celebrate in prayer.
“Lord, thank you Jesus,” said longtime custodial employee A__________. “I just want to thank the board and Mrs. W________ for thinking about us, and thank the Lord for being with us tonight. From the beginning, we prayed on this. He has been with us all the way and He showed us tonight that our family will stay together.”
Custodian W_________. “This is truly a family,” she said. “We came together and got through it together. God led us.”
There you have it. Emotionalism? Check. Feckless board members swayed this way and that? Check. Dubious Bible-thumping from a politician? Check. Racial/virtue pandering from a board member famous for being foul-mouthed, rude, and ruthless? Check. Continuation of dirty schools? Check.
And don't think that the kids don't notice.
1. Yesterday a judge ruled that the Wake school board cannot make a year-round school schedule mandatory for thousands of students next year. The board has argued that this move was necessary to best accomodate a student population that, thanks to a constant uber-population boom in the county, continues to expand in huge numbers. The board is now meeting to determine how to proceed. One option that some of them swear is inevitable is to put some elementary kids on "shift schedules", whereby some would go to school from 7:00 to 1:30, and others from 2:00 to 8:00. Since I have no dog (well, actually no child) in this fight, it is easy for me to boldy predict that such schedules will never happen. Truthfully, I doubt they will (you want to talk about PISSING PEOPLE OFF!), but if I lived, or taught, in Wake County I would be darned nervous.
Soon we may have to add "schools" to the infamous list of taboo dinner-table topics previously restricted (in general) to "religion" and "politics".
2. And now for something completely different, let's check out things in Ruralville. You know, I wouldn't trade my Southern heritage with anyone's, but that doesn't mean the old "local yokels" way of doing things in small Southern communities can't be severely embarrassing. Before I give you a story excerpt, from which you can draw your own conclusions (and especially if you are a Southerner, I expect you will at least chuckle), let me just point out that my school is filthy. FILTHY! We have two janitors who are sweet but past their primes, and who manage to only empty the trash and do a quick sweep through our rooms each day. The sweeping does not include getting in corners, or under teachers' desks, so dust bunnies abound. We get one mop and wax over the summer, and no dusting. Teachers routinely clean their own rooms to make up the deficit (well, some teachers do - ahem). So, the principals of the county decided to push the issue with the superintendent, who in turn was asked by the school board to look into contracting out our janitorial services. Now, read with delight (slightly altered by moi):
It was a night filled with emotion, confusion, confrontation and, in the end, victory for the more than 40 _______ County Schools custodians, as the ________ County Board of Education voted to reject privatization of custodial services Monday night.
After it asked superintendent Dr. ________to provide a cost comparison a few months back, he recommended the board approve SCC Service Solutions Monday night because of the companies “willingness” to work with and employ all the current ________County custodial employees.
With a standing-room only crowd in the central office auditorium, over 30 custodians, their fate, they said, hanging in the balance, listened as the school board prepared to vote .
“This is not just saving money,” Superintendent ________ assured the audience. “Because if it were, we would contract the services out; this was about the principals and the board asking me to check into this, and that is what I did ... SCC Service Solutions offered the best product and offered all of our current employees jobs.”
Custodians began the meeting by delivering impassioned pleas to the board for their livelihood.
“I love my job here,” said custodian ______________. “We are the eyes and ears of the school system, and a lot of times we are first responders to your children’s needs.”
Custodian G____________ followed. “I don’t want to lose my job,” she told the board. “I don’t understand how going to privatization will change things for the better. I hope and pray that the board considers what you are doing very carefully and look at this a little deeper.”
Perhaps the most thought-provoking commentary came from custodian E______.
“There is more involved than just a decision,” he said. “There is so much at stake here tonight. The decision you will make will be a decision that will effect so many lives, so many homes ... What will we do? Privatization is not going to save _______ County anything. People that are not working will have to get aid and funding from the county; it just doesn’t make any sense whatsoever”
Although Superintendent ___________ explained that he was sympathetic to the custodians and their plight, he still had to present his findings to the board.
“A lot of the things that were said here tonight, I agree with,” he said. “But the fact is that our custodial staff is still severely undermanned. If someone is out, we cannot fill that position, and the work does not get done. You know, these are hard decisions to make, but they have to be made in the best interest of the school system. We have to look at this and keep moving forward. The principals were unanimous in their decision (for privatization), and the board asked me to look at it, so I did. Some bids were lower, but SCC Service Solutions offered the best for our current employees.”
With that said, he recommended the board approve the proposal from SCC Service Solutions for the 2007-08 school year.
Not one board member made the motion to accept.
“In light of what we have heard tonight, I think that we really need to sit down and take a closer look at what this will do to our workers — I want to make a motion that we table this issue until the next meeting,” board member T__________said.
The crowd erupted with “no’s.”
With no one seconding S_______’s motion, board member R________ unexpectedly asked that the board approve the recommendation, to a stunned audience. One custodian in the crowd cried, “No, No ... Oh no.”
As chairman N___________ asked for the motion to be seconded, board member D____ W_____ lashed out at the board.
“I would like to say, I think that we are being asked to take a philosophical position on this. In that sense, if we approve this, what would happen if you are gone next year and we have a new superintendent who decides to cancel the contract? We never know what is going to happen next — the cafeteria people are low paid too. We have got to understand the views and fears that our custodians face with this decision. How would we feel if it was done to us ... I was always taught from the Bible, do unto others as you would have done onto you — I just cannot support this.”
The crowd erupted in applause.
A visibly stunned superintendent quickly countered. “Ms. W_____, this is not about me. If the board doesn’t want to support this, that is fine. We need to take a look at what is best for our school system ...”
W_______ shot back. “Our seven board members are evaluated every four years by _________ County voters, no matter what. The custodians should each be evaluated too. If they are not doing their job, they need to be terminated.”
Again, W__________’s comments were greeted with rousing applause.
“Ms. W_______,” said the superintendent, “I am not saying that they are not doing a good job — it is not about that. It still doesn’t hide the fact that we are severely undermanned. If this board is willing to take local money, then we can do that too.”
W_____ shot back again at him. “Five thousand dollars in our budget for school equipment doesn’t pay for a lot of buffers,” she said sarcastically. “I look at it like my house — if I don’t have tools to work with, it won’t be clean. All I am saying is give them a chance to do a good job.”
The superintendent reiterated that it wasn’t about the performance of the current custodial staff, it was about getting more man hours to help the school look cleaner.
“I would like to say that this was never about the performance of the workers,” said board member M________. “There was a lot of miscommunication about that. The board was looking out for getting more man hours in the schools. We appreciate the hard work and the commitment that you have; you are doing a great job. It was about getting the help. We were concerned about you being overworked.”
At that point, W______ made a motion to have Hobb’s recommendation rejected, again to rousing applause.
Inexplicably, R______, who previously asked to have Hobb’s recommendation approved, seconded her motion.
It was unanimous.
After the decision, the custodians gathered outside to celebrate in prayer.
“Lord, thank you Jesus,” said longtime custodial employee A__________. “I just want to thank the board and Mrs. W________ for thinking about us, and thank the Lord for being with us tonight. From the beginning, we prayed on this. He has been with us all the way and He showed us tonight that our family will stay together.”
Custodian W_________. “This is truly a family,” she said. “We came together and got through it together. God led us.”
There you have it. Emotionalism? Check. Feckless board members swayed this way and that? Check. Dubious Bible-thumping from a politician? Check. Racial/virtue pandering from a board member famous for being foul-mouthed, rude, and ruthless? Check. Continuation of dirty schools? Check.
And don't think that the kids don't notice.
01 May 2007
Quick Update
I was prepared to write a bitch-and-moaner about how completely overburdened I am (we all are) at school right now, but when I got home today I received a phone call from a VIP telling me, in essence, that once I file the correct paperwork I will be recommended for that little job thingy I've been MINORLY stressing about.
Nothing is official yet, and I don't want to bite the hand of the Big Guy who giveth by complaining about anything right now.
Got my drift?
I do have many interesting goings-on to relate, but not today. Stay tuned.
Nothing is official yet, and I don't want to bite the hand of the Big Guy who giveth by complaining about anything right now.
Got my drift?
I do have many interesting goings-on to relate, but not today. Stay tuned.
26 April 2007
Because Life Is Worthwhile
That is the best answer I've ever come up with (shamelessly lifted from an essay by Roger Scruton)to the question, "Why are we even reading this crap anyway?", which is usually followed by "How is this going to help me in life? This won't help me get a job."
Sometimes I'm spared having to point out why we read and study literature. With my absolute WORST COLLECTION OF STUDENTS EVER!!! in second period today we finished Of Mice and Men. For once all the wiseacre and immature boys were quiet, and the couple of complainer girls were as well. They wanted me to read the last chapter to them, and of course it is quite a doozy. Without overdoing it, I tried to read Lenny and George "in character", though in the spirit of muted suspense with which the chapter is written. And in the middle of it, to my surprise, I almost got choked up right there in front of everyone - I had to strain to keep reading with composure, something that has maybe only happened to me once or twice before.
When we finished discussing the last lines of the book, we took a water/bathroom break. And afterwards, there in the hallway, lingered a group of my girls, actually talking - spontaneously! - about the book, and about how they were fighting back tears at the end of it. I could tell that they were excited about the book, and they didn't, just yet, want to leave the fictional world they had allowed themselves to enter. I said very little, because what, after all, could I possibly add to that?
Sometimes I'm spared having to point out why we read and study literature. With my absolute WORST COLLECTION OF STUDENTS EVER!!! in second period today we finished Of Mice and Men. For once all the wiseacre and immature boys were quiet, and the couple of complainer girls were as well. They wanted me to read the last chapter to them, and of course it is quite a doozy. Without overdoing it, I tried to read Lenny and George "in character", though in the spirit of muted suspense with which the chapter is written. And in the middle of it, to my surprise, I almost got choked up right there in front of everyone - I had to strain to keep reading with composure, something that has maybe only happened to me once or twice before.
When we finished discussing the last lines of the book, we took a water/bathroom break. And afterwards, there in the hallway, lingered a group of my girls, actually talking - spontaneously! - about the book, and about how they were fighting back tears at the end of it. I could tell that they were excited about the book, and they didn't, just yet, want to leave the fictional world they had allowed themselves to enter. I said very little, because what, after all, could I possibly add to that?
23 April 2007
Yeah, The Wai-yayyy-ting Is The Hardest Part.
Knicks and knacks from the past week:
1. Last Thursday was the most fun I've ever had at an interview of any kind. I spent over an hour speaking with a principal, an assistant principal, and two English teachers, and then almost another hour being taken on a school tour. I'm pretty convinced this would be a wonderful fit, and that they liked me a lot. But I've had that feeling before in life (girls, jobs, etc.), only to have hopes dashed. So, should I be excited? Should I be patient? Should I stop annoying my wife with incessant fretting over when, or if, the offer might come?
Uh, definite "no" on that last one.
2. During yearbook class on Friday, we discovered that a nice Mac computer mouse was missing. Upon searching, we discovered that it had been severed and then squirreled away behind a hard drive unit. I knew the probable candidate for this vandalism, and informed the principal. About thirty minutes later I was called to his office, where I saw Suspect #1, surrounded by two administrators and our school's sheriff's deputy. They asked me a simple question, and my answer apparently contradicted that of our little convict. As I left the office, and turned left down the hall, I heard a ruckus and looked behind me. The kid was rushing out of the school building, with Principal Goldberg in close pursuit. I heard him scream, "You better just leave me alone!" in an almost girly high-pitched voice, and then he apparently got in his car and just left. Gee, think he was guilty?
Incidentally, he is now suspended, and will be made to pay for the damages. But frankly, should I have to even see this kid the rest of the semester? It will be hard to stomach having him in my classroom anymore.
3. After school Friday, I sat patiently with the mother of the senior who was killed in the gunfire incident on Labor Day weekend. She was giving me cherished photos to scan and put on a dedication page in the yearbook. I can only report my admiration for her composure and dignity. Lord knows such an occasion had to hurt like hell, but she was so easy to deal with, and seemed serene, really. How many of us would fall off in the other direction?
4. Just a reminder that I really want the job at this other school, which is not only closer to home, BUT SEEMS LIKE SUCH A COOL PLACE. COOL, I SAY! COOOOOOL!
Not that I'm obsessing.
5. We are two games down in my son's first year of tee-ball, and in four at bats he has hit the ball fair, off the coach's pitch, all four times (after three unsuccessful swings the batting tee comes out). He also fielded a ground ball that came to him in left field and proceeded to run it all the way in to home plate just in time to tag out the base runner; their collision, while not violent, did knock the runner down.
O.k., in most levels of baseball, that is not the most efficient way to get an out. Fortunately, in tee-ball, it probably is. But as I was getting excited and trying to figure out if he would beat the runner home or not, I realized that he was chasing down the only girl on the field - a little girl that a couple of plays earlier was so excited to make contact with her bat she turned to her parents in gleeful surprise, rather than running to first base.
So there you have it - my son knocked down the girl and prevented her from doing the one thing all tee-ballers want to do the most: cross home plate. The little misogynist.
1. Last Thursday was the most fun I've ever had at an interview of any kind. I spent over an hour speaking with a principal, an assistant principal, and two English teachers, and then almost another hour being taken on a school tour. I'm pretty convinced this would be a wonderful fit, and that they liked me a lot. But I've had that feeling before in life (girls, jobs, etc.), only to have hopes dashed. So, should I be excited? Should I be patient? Should I stop annoying my wife with incessant fretting over when, or if, the offer might come?
Uh, definite "no" on that last one.
2. During yearbook class on Friday, we discovered that a nice Mac computer mouse was missing. Upon searching, we discovered that it had been severed and then squirreled away behind a hard drive unit. I knew the probable candidate for this vandalism, and informed the principal. About thirty minutes later I was called to his office, where I saw Suspect #1, surrounded by two administrators and our school's sheriff's deputy. They asked me a simple question, and my answer apparently contradicted that of our little convict. As I left the office, and turned left down the hall, I heard a ruckus and looked behind me. The kid was rushing out of the school building, with Principal Goldberg in close pursuit. I heard him scream, "You better just leave me alone!" in an almost girly high-pitched voice, and then he apparently got in his car and just left. Gee, think he was guilty?
Incidentally, he is now suspended, and will be made to pay for the damages. But frankly, should I have to even see this kid the rest of the semester? It will be hard to stomach having him in my classroom anymore.
3. After school Friday, I sat patiently with the mother of the senior who was killed in the gunfire incident on Labor Day weekend. She was giving me cherished photos to scan and put on a dedication page in the yearbook. I can only report my admiration for her composure and dignity. Lord knows such an occasion had to hurt like hell, but she was so easy to deal with, and seemed serene, really. How many of us would fall off in the other direction?
4. Just a reminder that I really want the job at this other school, which is not only closer to home, BUT SEEMS LIKE SUCH A COOL PLACE. COOL, I SAY! COOOOOOL!
Not that I'm obsessing.
5. We are two games down in my son's first year of tee-ball, and in four at bats he has hit the ball fair, off the coach's pitch, all four times (after three unsuccessful swings the batting tee comes out). He also fielded a ground ball that came to him in left field and proceeded to run it all the way in to home plate just in time to tag out the base runner; their collision, while not violent, did knock the runner down.
O.k., in most levels of baseball, that is not the most efficient way to get an out. Fortunately, in tee-ball, it probably is. But as I was getting excited and trying to figure out if he would beat the runner home or not, I realized that he was chasing down the only girl on the field - a little girl that a couple of plays earlier was so excited to make contact with her bat she turned to her parents in gleeful surprise, rather than running to first base.
So there you have it - my son knocked down the girl and prevented her from doing the one thing all tee-ballers want to do the most: cross home plate. The little misogynist.
16 April 2007
Awkward Moment #273
You may remember that a couple of weeks ago I attended my home county's job fair, and spoke at length with representatives from a couple of schools about openings. One of these representatives, an assistant principal, used to teach at my school and administrate in my school system. We talked about several common acquaintances we had - sort of like catching up on old times, except with a complete stranger.
Well, turns out I have an interview with said school on Thursday. Today at about 2:55, the former baseball coach/gym teacher/current driving instructor/local legend (and father of our current basketball coach/gym teacher), ambles into my room and, in the presence of two students (luckily the rest were out on yearbook errands!), the following proceeds:
"Hey there young fella!"
"Oh, hey Coach! How are you, sir?"
"Good. Good. So I hear you spoke to someone about a position at _____________ High School. Don't you live near there."
(I'm turning red and trying to figure out how to send these two students out of the room-but-dammit-it's-too-late-and-now-the-whole-world-might-find-out!)
"Uh... uh... yeah I sure do."
"You spoke with my cousin up there - she's an assistant principal."
"Oh... yeah. You must mean Mrs. ________. I knew she was from down here. So she's your cousin, huh? I do remember her asking if I knew you."
"Yep. She was asking me about you, and I put the good word in for you. That's a good high school - a big high school - but a good one. You'd like it."
"Well thanks Coach. I certainly appreciate that."
He left, and I returned to the awkward position of waiting for the bell to ring and pretending, while the students were still there, that the past two minutes never happened.
The world, it be small.
Well, turns out I have an interview with said school on Thursday. Today at about 2:55, the former baseball coach/gym teacher/current driving instructor/local legend (and father of our current basketball coach/gym teacher), ambles into my room and, in the presence of two students (luckily the rest were out on yearbook errands!), the following proceeds:
"Hey there young fella!"
"Oh, hey Coach! How are you, sir?"
"Good. Good. So I hear you spoke to someone about a position at _____________ High School. Don't you live near there."
(I'm turning red and trying to figure out how to send these two students out of the room-but-dammit-it's-too-late-and-now-the-whole-world-might-find-out!)
"Uh... uh... yeah I sure do."
"You spoke with my cousin up there - she's an assistant principal."
"Oh... yeah. You must mean Mrs. ________. I knew she was from down here. So she's your cousin, huh? I do remember her asking if I knew you."
"Yep. She was asking me about you, and I put the good word in for you. That's a good high school - a big high school - but a good one. You'd like it."
"Well thanks Coach. I certainly appreciate that."
He left, and I returned to the awkward position of waiting for the bell to ring and pretending, while the students were still there, that the past two minutes never happened.
The world, it be small.
13 April 2007
Life is a Beach
A couple of weeks ago, our health occupations teacher, a portly, somewhat gruff woman in her forties who is a registered nurse, plopped down in the teacher's lounge at lunch and declared her frustration with hearing her junior and senior girls talk about nothing but where they were staying with their boyfriends when they went to the beach over spring break, or how skimpy their bikinis were going to be, or how many times they needed to get to the tanning booth before then. "You know what I want to say to them?" she asked. "I want to say, 'I hope you screw so much that it tears your asses up! Then maybe you'll come to your senses!'"
Well. I can honestly say that livened up our lunch, but aside from that her point was noted as one of the main reasons why the time approaching spring break is such a difficult one to work in. You see, because our part of the state is only a couple of hours from the beach (at the most), it is easy for the kids to get down to the coast for part, or all of their break. What appalled me when I first started teaching, and still does, is that so many parents let their kids go down there without any supervision. Sometimes the kids stay for a few days, but some stay all week, and they borrow or rent out beach houses, apartments, or hotel rooms. I wasn't allowed to go on an out-of-town trip with friends anywhere until I graduated. But not only do many seniors from my school go, many juniors, sophomores, and freshmen- for God's sake -are right with them.
Just listen in on a conversation or two in the weeks leading to break, and you will hear kids speaking of who they will procure alcohol from, which girls (if boys are talking) they will try to "get with", or where their set-up will be in relation to their friends'.
Where do they get the money for these bacchanal's? What the hell are their parents doing? Why the hell do those in authority at these beach communities allow this to happen (guess I know the answer to that: cha-ching!)
Three years ago, the talk of the school after break was over was the homemade porn one of the senior girls and junior boys made together. I'm not sure she knew a camera was rolling, but lots of kids saw it, and from what I gathered she wore her notoriety as a badge of honor the rest of the semester. Nice, huh?
What I really love is when, periodically, a kid will ask me, "Hey Mr. P? Do you want to go down to the beach with us?"
You know kid, if it were legal for me to force your parents, perhaps at gunpoint, to follow me down there, I might take you up on it.
Well. I can honestly say that livened up our lunch, but aside from that her point was noted as one of the main reasons why the time approaching spring break is such a difficult one to work in. You see, because our part of the state is only a couple of hours from the beach (at the most), it is easy for the kids to get down to the coast for part, or all of their break. What appalled me when I first started teaching, and still does, is that so many parents let their kids go down there without any supervision. Sometimes the kids stay for a few days, but some stay all week, and they borrow or rent out beach houses, apartments, or hotel rooms. I wasn't allowed to go on an out-of-town trip with friends anywhere until I graduated. But not only do many seniors from my school go, many juniors, sophomores, and freshmen- for God's sake -are right with them.
Just listen in on a conversation or two in the weeks leading to break, and you will hear kids speaking of who they will procure alcohol from, which girls (if boys are talking) they will try to "get with", or where their set-up will be in relation to their friends'.
Where do they get the money for these bacchanal's? What the hell are their parents doing? Why the hell do those in authority at these beach communities allow this to happen (guess I know the answer to that: cha-ching!)
Three years ago, the talk of the school after break was over was the homemade porn one of the senior girls and junior boys made together. I'm not sure she knew a camera was rolling, but lots of kids saw it, and from what I gathered she wore her notoriety as a badge of honor the rest of the semester. Nice, huh?
What I really love is when, periodically, a kid will ask me, "Hey Mr. P? Do you want to go down to the beach with us?"
You know kid, if it were legal for me to force your parents, perhaps at gunpoint, to follow me down there, I might take you up on it.
11 April 2007
Food for Thought
I would just like to point out that there are only five - count 'em, five! - more days until the first annual Food Network Awards show airs. Alas, it has already been filmed, so my idea of taking a road trip to Miami to crash the party (a proposal that landed D.O.A. on the wyfe's ears, btw) won't work this year. But a guy can dream.
And yes, I refuse to hand over my mantle of manliness just because the Food Network has become my "go to channel" when an important football/basketball/baseball game isn't on. This is a recent discovery, brought on by the evolution of our household responsibilities list that has led to my doing about 90% of the evening cooking. For about five months now, I've been taking my cue from the likes of Emeril, Paula Dean, and that freaky spaz Tyler Florence. Of course, my wyfe chalks up the change in viewing habits to the fact that the network features a few babe chefs - particularly a certain chef of Italian heritage. I resent that accusation, of course.
One show I will draw the line at is Iron Chef America, which is way over the top. But it is still better than anything dear wyfe likes to watch on her new preferred channel, the Chiller Network.
And yes, I refuse to hand over my mantle of manliness just because the Food Network has become my "go to channel" when an important football/basketball/baseball game isn't on. This is a recent discovery, brought on by the evolution of our household responsibilities list that has led to my doing about 90% of the evening cooking. For about five months now, I've been taking my cue from the likes of Emeril, Paula Dean, and that freaky spaz Tyler Florence. Of course, my wyfe chalks up the change in viewing habits to the fact that the network features a few babe chefs - particularly a certain chef of Italian heritage. I resent that accusation, of course.
One show I will draw the line at is Iron Chef America, which is way over the top. But it is still better than anything dear wyfe likes to watch on her new preferred channel, the Chiller Network.
09 April 2007
Sad Day
This wasn't the way I wanted to begin my week of blogging, but I have to report the sad news that we put our dog to sleep this afternoon. If you have been following my wife's blog for the last couple of weeks, you are aware that the dog has been doing poorly. Over the last week she just simply wouldn't eat, and unfortunately she never got the chance to return home after going to the vet's hospital last Tuesday. This morning she had a bad seizure and spit up blood, and so we knew this had to be it.
The experience was difficult, as anyone knows who has had to do the same. There are conflicting emotions, and the irrepressible thought that our lives will now be easier in many ways. Gertie was not an easy pet to deal with, or have patience with, but after seeing her for the last time today and saying goodbye, it strikes me how all the things that were so irritating about her were really just trifles - at least compared to the simple, humbling fact that she shared 13 1/2 years of our lives with us. (Ever thought about what a miracle it is that certain animals can live with you, in your house? Or how odd that is?)
My wife is much more qualified to write a post adequately paying tribute to Gertie, taking into account the dog's virtues and foibles. I'm sure she will write such a post in the next day or two. In the meantime, I will only offer up thanks to God for Gertie's life. Rest in peace, little dog.
The experience was difficult, as anyone knows who has had to do the same. There are conflicting emotions, and the irrepressible thought that our lives will now be easier in many ways. Gertie was not an easy pet to deal with, or have patience with, but after seeing her for the last time today and saying goodbye, it strikes me how all the things that were so irritating about her were really just trifles - at least compared to the simple, humbling fact that she shared 13 1/2 years of our lives with us. (Ever thought about what a miracle it is that certain animals can live with you, in your house? Or how odd that is?)
My wife is much more qualified to write a post adequately paying tribute to Gertie, taking into account the dog's virtues and foibles. I'm sure she will write such a post in the next day or two. In the meantime, I will only offer up thanks to God for Gertie's life. Rest in peace, little dog.
08 April 2007
Happy Easter!
In terms of day-to-day operations, my Easter hain't been so hot. It appears that I lost my cell phone somewhere in Winston-Salem over the weekend, and a little while ago I had one of those conversations with my parents that was destined from the start to hit guilt buttons and piss me off. Nice.
Now I find myself pissed that on the most important day of my religion's calendar, a day intended for the highest level of celebration, I've let myself get down in the dumps over such petty matters. But perhaps, in a metaphysically twisted way, this is most appropriate for Easter Day.
I am also, thank God, on spring break, and hopefully my blogging mojo will return this coming week as a result. I've been tired, I've been unmotivated, I've been busy. But this week, dear reader, I intend to bring something to the table daily, whether it be well-executed or not. Please do tune in.
Now I find myself pissed that on the most important day of my religion's calendar, a day intended for the highest level of celebration, I've let myself get down in the dumps over such petty matters. But perhaps, in a metaphysically twisted way, this is most appropriate for Easter Day.
I am also, thank God, on spring break, and hopefully my blogging mojo will return this coming week as a result. I've been tired, I've been unmotivated, I've been busy. But this week, dear reader, I intend to bring something to the table daily, whether it be well-executed or not. Please do tune in.
01 April 2007
Are The Times A-Changin'?
Saturday was an absolute whirlwind of activity, which wasn't exactly as it was planned. But oh well. We had a veterinian visit, grocery shopping, the elementary school's Spring Carnival, yard work, some moral support to provide for a friend, cooking, cleaning, and of course, the Final Four to watch. On top of this, I ended up making a late decision to attend the school system job fair in my home county, and spent an hour talking to representatives from three high schools.
Over the last five years, I've done this a couple of times, and I've also resisted doing it a couple of times. As previously noted, I am one of those guys who likes to stay put when I get comfortable, and (partially due to this, I'm sure) also a person who remains loyal beyond what many people would consider their obligations. But, these bigger schools didn't take a chance on me when I was coming in through the alternate licensure route, while my current school did. And, things have worked out very well, for the most part. The last time I attended the local job fair I can truly say my heart was not in it, and this probably showed. No one even called for a follow-up interview.
But Saturday felt different. I have five years of experience in the bag, and I think my interviewers took notice of this, and seemed much more interested in me. Plus, they all knew people that I know in my current school community, so there was the advantage 0f name-dropping without intentionally meaning to. Who knows what will happen, but I felt positive about the whole experience, and...
I didn't feel guilty about it, like I did a couple of years ago. This, in spite of the fact that if were to be offered a better position, and I left my school now, I would be piling on to the giant load of crap that my bosses already have to deal with this spring and summer: we have five teachers retiring, they want to hire an additional English teacher, and I'm convinced Principal Goldberg will fire another one if at all possible (and if he is willing to take a little heat). My leaving would only add to his woes, and I would hate that because I really like him, and like working for him.
Ultimately, though, working closer to home at a better school with better-achieving students (and with a little salary upgrade) would be too much to turn down - unless they tried to make being a coach part of the deal. In any case, I can be happy where I am, so I'm trying to stay as level-headed about all of this as possible. But I'm a little excited about the possibilities between now and next fall.
Over the last five years, I've done this a couple of times, and I've also resisted doing it a couple of times. As previously noted, I am one of those guys who likes to stay put when I get comfortable, and (partially due to this, I'm sure) also a person who remains loyal beyond what many people would consider their obligations. But, these bigger schools didn't take a chance on me when I was coming in through the alternate licensure route, while my current school did. And, things have worked out very well, for the most part. The last time I attended the local job fair I can truly say my heart was not in it, and this probably showed. No one even called for a follow-up interview.
But Saturday felt different. I have five years of experience in the bag, and I think my interviewers took notice of this, and seemed much more interested in me. Plus, they all knew people that I know in my current school community, so there was the advantage 0f name-dropping without intentionally meaning to. Who knows what will happen, but I felt positive about the whole experience, and...
I didn't feel guilty about it, like I did a couple of years ago. This, in spite of the fact that if were to be offered a better position, and I left my school now, I would be piling on to the giant load of crap that my bosses already have to deal with this spring and summer: we have five teachers retiring, they want to hire an additional English teacher, and I'm convinced Principal Goldberg will fire another one if at all possible (and if he is willing to take a little heat). My leaving would only add to his woes, and I would hate that because I really like him, and like working for him.
Ultimately, though, working closer to home at a better school with better-achieving students (and with a little salary upgrade) would be too much to turn down - unless they tried to make being a coach part of the deal. In any case, I can be happy where I am, so I'm trying to stay as level-headed about all of this as possible. But I'm a little excited about the possibilities between now and next fall.
28 March 2007
Schools, Communities, or Both?
I don't live in Fayetteville, but last week I noticed that the Fayetteville Observer ran several stories, including this one, about a local high school that is among 18 around the state which might be closed down due to poor achievement. Ten years ago a lawsuit was filed to address the differences in funding between low-wealth area schools wealthy-area schools. In the process, a judge decided that aside from funding, the sorriest schools, in terms of test scores, needed to address the job the teachers and principals were doing. His threat to close these schools has apparently brought dividends at some of them, including E.E. Smith in Fayetteville, which has improved its scores in a fairly rapid manner. The part of the story that strikes me the most, and presents the most nettlesome issue facing any school that struggles, is this:
On the other hand, it’s hard to overlook the fact that the 18 schools on Manning’s list are trying to educate students who are largely poor and black.
E.E. Smith High School is a prime example. At E.E. Smith, 86 percent of students are black, and 55 percent qualify for free or reduced-price lunch. Little has changed in that regard over the years.
E.E. Smith has been a school for black students since the day it was founded in 1927. Alumni are immensely proud of that fact. When E.E. Miller ruled the school with an iron fist in the 1940s, ’50s and ’60s, they say, students excelled and discipline problems were minimal.
Parents in the middle-class neighborhoods surrounding the school watched out for each others’ children. If someone was seen skipping school, that student’s parents were almost sure to get a call.
But somewhere along the line, things changed. As Broadell and the other black neighborhoods began to age, transient residents moved in.
Over time, the older alumni say, E.E. Smith lost its sense of community.
Now, teachers and schools are (in)famous for laying blame at the feet of parents (or lack thereof), but even when a teacher first accepts full responsibility for test scores and achievement, there is no way around it: home life and community life matter.
So what to do in a case where the community surrounding a school has just, for lack of a more artful term, turned to crap? Sadly, closing some schools in order to get the kids into better ones may be necessary in certain situations.
On the other hand, it’s hard to overlook the fact that the 18 schools on Manning’s list are trying to educate students who are largely poor and black.
E.E. Smith High School is a prime example. At E.E. Smith, 86 percent of students are black, and 55 percent qualify for free or reduced-price lunch. Little has changed in that regard over the years.
E.E. Smith has been a school for black students since the day it was founded in 1927. Alumni are immensely proud of that fact. When E.E. Miller ruled the school with an iron fist in the 1940s, ’50s and ’60s, they say, students excelled and discipline problems were minimal.
Parents in the middle-class neighborhoods surrounding the school watched out for each others’ children. If someone was seen skipping school, that student’s parents were almost sure to get a call.
But somewhere along the line, things changed. As Broadell and the other black neighborhoods began to age, transient residents moved in.
Over time, the older alumni say, E.E. Smith lost its sense of community.
Now, teachers and schools are (in)famous for laying blame at the feet of parents (or lack thereof), but even when a teacher first accepts full responsibility for test scores and achievement, there is no way around it: home life and community life matter.
So what to do in a case where the community surrounding a school has just, for lack of a more artful term, turned to crap? Sadly, closing some schools in order to get the kids into better ones may be necessary in certain situations.
25 March 2007
Quick Update
I'm still here, people. Give me a day or two to get up some real content - it's been a wall-to-wall-busy last few days, and any free time this weekend was caught up in watching basketball (remember, that is the unofficial "official" sport in my state).
21 March 2007
Well, Crap.
So a couple of months ago I received some correspondence from district court asking me for updated information in order to confirm I was still an eligible member of the district's jury pool. The correspondence promised - PROMISED - that this in no way constituted any impending summons to jury duty.
Want to guess what I got in the mail yesterday? Yeah - ye old summons to jury duty.
My time begins the week before spring break, which actually might be fortuitous considering how the students behave at that time, and what they verbalize regarding their lurid prom plans, beach plans, etc.
Or, maybe I'll get there, tell them that my favorite stories to teach involve the death penalty or severe criminal punsishments, and hope someone from the defense wants me dismissed.
Want to guess what I got in the mail yesterday? Yeah - ye old summons to jury duty.
My time begins the week before spring break, which actually might be fortuitous considering how the students behave at that time, and what they verbalize regarding their lurid prom plans, beach plans, etc.
Or, maybe I'll get there, tell them that my favorite stories to teach involve the death penalty or severe criminal punsishments, and hope someone from the defense wants me dismissed.
18 March 2007
Am I My Students' Keeper?
The teaching life should be pretty good for me right now. We are finished with the state writing test, we are edging towards the half-way point in the semester and are less than three weeks until spring break, and I don't have a lot of huge school responsibilities looming right now. And yet...
There is a constant dilemma for me, one that rears up from time to time and gives me a measure of emotional and spiritual trauma. Perhaps it is a function of inexperience, or perhaps it is a function of my personality, but I tend to have a hard time finding a necessary equilibrium when it comes to students and their problems, issues, and behavioral inadequacies. On the one hand I could, and do, spend considerable time being consumed with fretting. The other approach is to be an automoton, leave these problems at the office (so to speak), and even further, see the kids as nothing more than a parade of ever-changing faces who will come and go during a career in teaching.
I know teachers who take the latter approach, and I see the temptations to doing so myself. Who needs to worry so much about that which you can't control, and don't want to think about? Drugged-out parents? Raising their own siblings? Working 40 hours a week to help pay mom's medical bills? Filthy rich and spoiled from hands-off parenting? Hey, I've got my own problems, bud, and don't have time to worry about yours. Get to class, do the work (or not), get the grade, and get out.
As you can guess, however, I lean more the other way, and I think most teachers do. After all, teaching is a job that entails forming relationships, and should involve forming character. If you don't like people and hearing about their lives, you probably aren't going to be effective or happy as a teacher. What I have a hard time remembering is that being involved doesn't mean being in control, or completely responsible.
So last week I had to deal with a tearful Honduran girl begging to switch from first to second period because the rednecks and a Mexican kid do nothing but pick on her and her accent (and she always reacts badly, btw). I had to deal with the aforementioned redneck/roughneck boys and their various angry, surly, and disruptive attitudes. And then there was Friday. All the tenth graders in the county got to attend an a cappella musical performance at the county's civic center. I, of course, was lucky enough to be chosen as one of the chaperones. During the show, a group of our black boys were engaging in marginally disrespectful behavior. But after the show was over, they took it upon themselves to, in unison, yell out something inappropriate (I still don't get it, but it involved the word "nuts") for the 500 or so kids and teachers from the other schools to hear. I had to write down their names and sadly report the event to the principal when we returned.
The thing is, I shouldn't take this personally, but I do. I keep thinking there is something I could say, some sermon I could give, that would help all my kids see the light and magically attain maturity. Some of these troubled ones will straighten up, but many won't, and I'm not in control of any of them. I know - surprise, surprise, I'm not God.
I guess it's no wonder that the first week of summer always feels like the first week at detox.
There is a constant dilemma for me, one that rears up from time to time and gives me a measure of emotional and spiritual trauma. Perhaps it is a function of inexperience, or perhaps it is a function of my personality, but I tend to have a hard time finding a necessary equilibrium when it comes to students and their problems, issues, and behavioral inadequacies. On the one hand I could, and do, spend considerable time being consumed with fretting. The other approach is to be an automoton, leave these problems at the office (so to speak), and even further, see the kids as nothing more than a parade of ever-changing faces who will come and go during a career in teaching.
I know teachers who take the latter approach, and I see the temptations to doing so myself. Who needs to worry so much about that which you can't control, and don't want to think about? Drugged-out parents? Raising their own siblings? Working 40 hours a week to help pay mom's medical bills? Filthy rich and spoiled from hands-off parenting? Hey, I've got my own problems, bud, and don't have time to worry about yours. Get to class, do the work (or not), get the grade, and get out.
As you can guess, however, I lean more the other way, and I think most teachers do. After all, teaching is a job that entails forming relationships, and should involve forming character. If you don't like people and hearing about their lives, you probably aren't going to be effective or happy as a teacher. What I have a hard time remembering is that being involved doesn't mean being in control, or completely responsible.
So last week I had to deal with a tearful Honduran girl begging to switch from first to second period because the rednecks and a Mexican kid do nothing but pick on her and her accent (and she always reacts badly, btw). I had to deal with the aforementioned redneck/roughneck boys and their various angry, surly, and disruptive attitudes. And then there was Friday. All the tenth graders in the county got to attend an a cappella musical performance at the county's civic center. I, of course, was lucky enough to be chosen as one of the chaperones. During the show, a group of our black boys were engaging in marginally disrespectful behavior. But after the show was over, they took it upon themselves to, in unison, yell out something inappropriate (I still don't get it, but it involved the word "nuts") for the 500 or so kids and teachers from the other schools to hear. I had to write down their names and sadly report the event to the principal when we returned.
The thing is, I shouldn't take this personally, but I do. I keep thinking there is something I could say, some sermon I could give, that would help all my kids see the light and magically attain maturity. Some of these troubled ones will straighten up, but many won't, and I'm not in control of any of them. I know - surprise, surprise, I'm not God.
I guess it's no wonder that the first week of summer always feels like the first week at detox.
14 March 2007
March Madness, Old Man Style
Monday evening was our annual faculty vs. seniors basketball game, and, as usual the old men ruled the day (or night) after, as usual, hearing a bunch of trash talk from the seniors for weeks. We whipped them 65-48, and the score could have been much, much worse if we had not turned the ball over about 20 times (the seniors must have turned it over 35 times). The only player on our team under the age of 30, by the way, was the one in the worst shape. So how do a bunch of over-30 has beens keep winning this game?
Well, here is the formula: first, no basketball players are allowed to play (though that might not have made a big difference this year), and no kids with poor disciplinary records are allowed to play either. So, we start by narrowing the field. Then, from the eligible pool of seniors, we encourage as many as possible to sign up so that they have a good 12 players, at least. Then we just let "The Lord of the Flies Rules" take effect, which are as follows: inevitably, whatever veneer of civilization these boys have gets stripped away by their greed for playing time and their adolescent egos, and team dissension will always set in. By halftime, they are usually sniping at each other over who has been playing too many minutes, who needs to shoot less, who needs to be the point guard, etc. Left to us, then, is only to make sure we play good team ball - passing, setting screens, taking smart shots, not griping over playing time - and the game is always in the bag.
Of course, we don't gripe about playing time because, frankly, we are thankful for whatever rest on the bench we can get.
My line, by the way, was 9 pts. scored, four rebounds, four assists, and two fouls. Not bad, but could have been a little better.
After I got home from the game and strutted around for a while, the good wyfe rhetorically asked, "You just think you're a bad-ass, don't you?"
Why yes, dear, I do. In fact, I am a bad-ass, thank you very much.
Well, here is the formula: first, no basketball players are allowed to play (though that might not have made a big difference this year), and no kids with poor disciplinary records are allowed to play either. So, we start by narrowing the field. Then, from the eligible pool of seniors, we encourage as many as possible to sign up so that they have a good 12 players, at least. Then we just let "The Lord of the Flies Rules" take effect, which are as follows: inevitably, whatever veneer of civilization these boys have gets stripped away by their greed for playing time and their adolescent egos, and team dissension will always set in. By halftime, they are usually sniping at each other over who has been playing too many minutes, who needs to shoot less, who needs to be the point guard, etc. Left to us, then, is only to make sure we play good team ball - passing, setting screens, taking smart shots, not griping over playing time - and the game is always in the bag.
Of course, we don't gripe about playing time because, frankly, we are thankful for whatever rest on the bench we can get.
My line, by the way, was 9 pts. scored, four rebounds, four assists, and two fouls. Not bad, but could have been a little better.
After I got home from the game and strutted around for a while, the good wyfe rhetorically asked, "You just think you're a bad-ass, don't you?"
Why yes, dear, I do. In fact, I am a bad-ass, thank you very much.
10 March 2007
Put It In Writing
Tuesday marks the day of the 10th grade writing test, a day of much rejoicing in the English department, because we can finally turn our attention away from writing cause/effect and extended definition essays. Of course, a day of mourning will follow in May, when the results come in.
Still, the arrival of test day will come as a relief to me, because I can get a break from reading these awful drafts for a while. Since the test falls in March, you can imagine that all I've hammered away at since the second semester started is writing, writing, writing. Granted, the kids need to practice and learn, but more than anything else I do, teaching writing has that beat-your-head-against-a-wall aspect to it. How can you help kids who refuse to write? Or who can't speak English? Or who try really hard but can't put together functional sentences to save their lives? Or who don't understand that, when they are prompted to analyze the causes or the effects of something, they are not being asked to just give some of their general opinions on an issue? Well, it is not that we won't continue to write this semester, but at least we can really start getting into literature.
The official bureaucratic rhetoric is that this is not an English test, but a writing test which the entire school should have been preparing kids for. So, theoretically, the whole school should feel responsible for the poor scores that we are bound to receive. But we all know which department has most of the weight on its shoulders. So be it. If our scores suck a little less than they did last year, I will feel a measure of triumph.
Still, the arrival of test day will come as a relief to me, because I can get a break from reading these awful drafts for a while. Since the test falls in March, you can imagine that all I've hammered away at since the second semester started is writing, writing, writing. Granted, the kids need to practice and learn, but more than anything else I do, teaching writing has that beat-your-head-against-a-wall aspect to it. How can you help kids who refuse to write? Or who can't speak English? Or who try really hard but can't put together functional sentences to save their lives? Or who don't understand that, when they are prompted to analyze the causes or the effects of something, they are not being asked to just give some of their general opinions on an issue? Well, it is not that we won't continue to write this semester, but at least we can really start getting into literature.
The official bureaucratic rhetoric is that this is not an English test, but a writing test which the entire school should have been preparing kids for. So, theoretically, the whole school should feel responsible for the poor scores that we are bound to receive. But we all know which department has most of the weight on its shoulders. So be it. If our scores suck a little less than they did last year, I will feel a measure of triumph.
06 March 2007
To The Core
Principal Goldberg attended a public forum last night put on by the state Dept. of Instruction. They are putting these forums on around the state to explain their decisions to require, beginning in '08-'09, every high school student to complete the same "core curriculum" of 17 classes, plus four electives before graduating. These forums were apparently advertised as part informational, part Hillary-style listening tour. But it sounds like they are, in actuality, "here is our information, like it or lump it" sessions.
Frankly, I have not been following this move by the state, but I can quickly explain the opposition to the core curriculum idea. There are kids who simply will never, ever pass certain math or science classes, or certain foreign language classes, or won't have the will to pass English or history classes that have heavy writing requirements. Also, there are those students who are not intrigued by academic classes, but may squeak by in them so they can take the vocational classes they do like. The upshot is that there will almost certainly be more high school drop-outs, unless all academic teachers simultaneously decide to water down their classes.
It also would probably mean that more math, science, and foreign language teachers will need to be hired, and there are two problems here: it is hard as hell to find such teachers as it is, and to find places for them means vocational positions will likely be cut.
So, what is motivating the state DPI, and what do the teachers' union kapos think about this? I'm not completely sure on either score, but will endeavor to find out.
Frankly, I have not been following this move by the state, but I can quickly explain the opposition to the core curriculum idea. There are kids who simply will never, ever pass certain math or science classes, or certain foreign language classes, or won't have the will to pass English or history classes that have heavy writing requirements. Also, there are those students who are not intrigued by academic classes, but may squeak by in them so they can take the vocational classes they do like. The upshot is that there will almost certainly be more high school drop-outs, unless all academic teachers simultaneously decide to water down their classes.
It also would probably mean that more math, science, and foreign language teachers will need to be hired, and there are two problems here: it is hard as hell to find such teachers as it is, and to find places for them means vocational positions will likely be cut.
So, what is motivating the state DPI, and what do the teachers' union kapos think about this? I'm not completely sure on either score, but will endeavor to find out.
02 March 2007
Woe Is Me
I'm actually in a great mood now that the week is over, but consider that the following has taken place in the last three days, and you'll know why I haven't had much bloggage this week:
Wednesday: Started the day finding out that my presentation partner for Thursday was on a leave of absence due to back surgery, and that I would have to handle the entire presentation on my own; put presentation notes in my bag, and drove after school to an unrelated follow-up workshop that was an hour's drive away; spent two and a half hours there, then drove back home, ate a late dinner, helped put the kid to bed, and went out to the car to get my notes for review; the thing is, my bag isn't there, because (I then realized) I left it at the workshop; checked e-mail and see that the workshop hostess has my bag, and will try to get it to my wife the following day; wife less than sympathetic.
Thursday: Gave afternoon workshop, and all wentwell; called home to find out that wife is majorly sick, and come to think of it I'm coughing and don't feel too well myself; son wanted to play outside, and unfortunately next door neighbor little girl and Grandma were out in their yards too, so spent the next hour having to play with kids and pay attention to hovering, overprotective Grandma, while fighting off a cold.
Friday: Woke up early due to heavy wind and rain from that awful tornado-spawning storm system; phone rings at 5:55 to inform us that school will be delayed two-hours; had to write up three kids from abbreviated second period, and discovered that someone in the class was throwing wood screws across the room every time I turned my back or helped another student; played basketball after school with a couple of teachers and some hand-picked students, but had an accidental collision with one 250-lb. muscle dude (I'm 170), which sends my feet flying and has me landing fully on my elbow and hip; miraculously, I'm alive and well, and played for thirty more minutes; sat here typing this blog while applying ice pack to bruised elbow.
Oh, and I should throw in the dog vomit and dog pee discovered on consecutive mornings. And that the lady never showed with by bag.
There you have it. Now I'm going to bed.
Wednesday: Started the day finding out that my presentation partner for Thursday was on a leave of absence due to back surgery, and that I would have to handle the entire presentation on my own; put presentation notes in my bag, and drove after school to an unrelated follow-up workshop that was an hour's drive away; spent two and a half hours there, then drove back home, ate a late dinner, helped put the kid to bed, and went out to the car to get my notes for review; the thing is, my bag isn't there, because (I then realized) I left it at the workshop; checked e-mail and see that the workshop hostess has my bag, and will try to get it to my wife the following day; wife less than sympathetic.
Thursday: Gave afternoon workshop, and all wentwell; called home to find out that wife is majorly sick, and come to think of it I'm coughing and don't feel too well myself; son wanted to play outside, and unfortunately next door neighbor little girl and Grandma were out in their yards too, so spent the next hour having to play with kids and pay attention to hovering, overprotective Grandma, while fighting off a cold.
Friday: Woke up early due to heavy wind and rain from that awful tornado-spawning storm system; phone rings at 5:55 to inform us that school will be delayed two-hours; had to write up three kids from abbreviated second period, and discovered that someone in the class was throwing wood screws across the room every time I turned my back or helped another student; played basketball after school with a couple of teachers and some hand-picked students, but had an accidental collision with one 250-lb. muscle dude (I'm 170), which sends my feet flying and has me landing fully on my elbow and hip; miraculously, I'm alive and well, and played for thirty more minutes; sat here typing this blog while applying ice pack to bruised elbow.
Oh, and I should throw in the dog vomit and dog pee discovered on consecutive mornings. And that the lady never showed with by bag.
There you have it. Now I'm going to bed.
26 February 2007
The Doldrums
That is precisely the term for the period on the educational calendar between mid-January (semester change for us) and Good Friday (start of spring break). The weeks stretch on endlessly, the weather vacillates between winter and proto-spring, and the kids and teachers feel under-energized. It is appropriate, I suppose, that the school doldrums fall during Lent.
Anyway, I have to attend a follow-up workshop one afternoon this week, and give my frickin' writing workshop again on Thursday. Want to guess how this week will go?
I do have one metaphysical question to ponder: why is it that the same kids (in this case, a little hispanic girl) who seem the most gung-ho to get in a fight end up looking the most confused, hurt, and miserable after the fight finally comes off? Didn't they get what they wanted all along?
Anyway, I have to attend a follow-up workshop one afternoon this week, and give my frickin' writing workshop again on Thursday. Want to guess how this week will go?
I do have one metaphysical question to ponder: why is it that the same kids (in this case, a little hispanic girl) who seem the most gung-ho to get in a fight end up looking the most confused, hurt, and miserable after the fight finally comes off? Didn't they get what they wanted all along?
24 February 2007
Latest on PLC's; Also, The Curse Continues
A couple of quick updates:
1. On the subject of Professional Learning Communities(PLC's), and the big faculty meeting from last week (which I was unable to attend), I have vague news to report. It seems that there was no unveiling of any new school-wide initiatives or programs (keep your fingers crossed). The main focus of our principal's message, centered around some quotes from the wretchedly written PLC newsletter, was that of teacher collegiality. Unfortunately, I don't have many details on what was said, but I still have two cents to put in: collegiality is a wonderful trait for a faculty to have, but what do you do with those who won't play along? The answer to that question is essential.
2. The Curse of '06/'07 continues unabated, and it has once again struck our department. Our senior-most senior English teacher, the woman who was department chair when I started, and whom I would most choose to be like if I was going to be like another teacher, is the latest victim. For some freakish reason, she decided to ride a four-wheeler with her grandson. Apparently the throttle in the thing stuck, and they went into a ditch, where (I guess) she was thrown off. Two of her vertebrae, one at the top and one at the bottom, were broken, and following surgery she now will be in a brace for a couple of months.
Now, she could have retired after last semester, but chose to stay out of the goodness of her heart because it was going to be so hard on us to replace two English teachers in the middle of the year. But, in our Greek Tragedy kind of year, there was no averting fate, apparently. So now we will have to find a new teacher anyway.
I hate this for her, because she is such a good soul, and I hate it for her students (mostly seniors), who needed a tough old school marm to pound on them one last semester before the real world comes calling.
Oh, and in case you think this a bizarre injury for a grandma, one of our over-sixty math teachers broke both her legs a couple of years ago in a sky-diving accident.
1. On the subject of Professional Learning Communities(PLC's), and the big faculty meeting from last week (which I was unable to attend), I have vague news to report. It seems that there was no unveiling of any new school-wide initiatives or programs (keep your fingers crossed). The main focus of our principal's message, centered around some quotes from the wretchedly written PLC newsletter, was that of teacher collegiality. Unfortunately, I don't have many details on what was said, but I still have two cents to put in: collegiality is a wonderful trait for a faculty to have, but what do you do with those who won't play along? The answer to that question is essential.
2. The Curse of '06/'07 continues unabated, and it has once again struck our department. Our senior-most senior English teacher, the woman who was department chair when I started, and whom I would most choose to be like if I was going to be like another teacher, is the latest victim. For some freakish reason, she decided to ride a four-wheeler with her grandson. Apparently the throttle in the thing stuck, and they went into a ditch, where (I guess) she was thrown off. Two of her vertebrae, one at the top and one at the bottom, were broken, and following surgery she now will be in a brace for a couple of months.
Now, she could have retired after last semester, but chose to stay out of the goodness of her heart because it was going to be so hard on us to replace two English teachers in the middle of the year. But, in our Greek Tragedy kind of year, there was no averting fate, apparently. So now we will have to find a new teacher anyway.
I hate this for her, because she is such a good soul, and I hate it for her students (mostly seniors), who needed a tough old school marm to pound on them one last semester before the real world comes calling.
Oh, and in case you think this a bizarre injury for a grandma, one of our over-sixty math teachers broke both her legs a couple of years ago in a sky-diving accident.
19 February 2007
Pretend you are principal for a minute:
Let's say that on a state End of Course test in a certain subject area (you make the choice), a school has been performing exceptionally well, considering the make-up of its student population, for four or five years in a row. The sections of this particular course were split among two to three teachers in the department, all of whom got almost identical results. If they had honors classes, their honors kids all did as expected. If they had college prep or general classes, the majority of their kids all passed, and even sometimes exceeded expectations. All three of these teachers usually expressed some surprise that the results were so good, and generally chalked it all up to the students actually putting forth real effort for once, and the test score formula being dumbed down a bit. But all three teachers also knew that they at least did their best to teach the course and get the kids prepared.
Oh, and let's say that the scores from this particular test go into the "report card" formula for the school's overall rating. And that potential bonuses are riding on this rating, as well as the school's safe haven from prying state Dept. of Education types.
Now, let's say that another teacher in this department has not been able to pass the Praxis exam for high school certification after a number of tries. Thus, this teacher is constrained, by the NCLB Act, in what he/she is supposed to teach. Through the past few years, this teacher has been given grade levels that don't have this End of Course test attached to them, but they are not the grade levels he/she is certified for. The one grade level that he/she is certified for, alas, is the level that does have the test attached to it. Sooooo...
Over the summer the new administration decides that, so as not to run afoul of NCLB, this teacher has to be given all the sections from the grade level he/she is certified for. Yes, this means that all the kids taking the End of Course test will be taught by this one person, and all their scores, rightly or wrongly, will be this one person's responsibility. Reports abound from students as to the past teaching methods, or lack thereof, of this teacher. The methods are reported to include spending great amounts of class time rumor-mongering, picking out the foibles of students and teachers, and leaving the class for smoke breaks or chats in the hallway. But apparently administration felt its hands were tied. Soooo... (bored yet?)
The first semester's scores come back in, and fully one-third of this teacher's kids fail the test. The number of failures already exceeds, by more than a couple, the total number of test failures over any one year period from the last few school years. Let's also say that one of the other teachers in the department was at the county office for some business, and ran into the director of secondary schools, who was also the former principal of his particular school. This director immediately became animated about the large number of failures, and said he told the administration not to make the change, and that he hoped the change would be remanded for next year. All this confirmed the visiting teacher's suspicion that the score results were really, really bad, and were an eyesore for the school and the county.
Now - you are the principal. Assuming a non-topsy-turvy educational world (hah!), what would you do?
Oh, and let's say that the scores from this particular test go into the "report card" formula for the school's overall rating. And that potential bonuses are riding on this rating, as well as the school's safe haven from prying state Dept. of Education types.
Now, let's say that another teacher in this department has not been able to pass the Praxis exam for high school certification after a number of tries. Thus, this teacher is constrained, by the NCLB Act, in what he/she is supposed to teach. Through the past few years, this teacher has been given grade levels that don't have this End of Course test attached to them, but they are not the grade levels he/she is certified for. The one grade level that he/she is certified for, alas, is the level that does have the test attached to it. Sooooo...
Over the summer the new administration decides that, so as not to run afoul of NCLB, this teacher has to be given all the sections from the grade level he/she is certified for. Yes, this means that all the kids taking the End of Course test will be taught by this one person, and all their scores, rightly or wrongly, will be this one person's responsibility. Reports abound from students as to the past teaching methods, or lack thereof, of this teacher. The methods are reported to include spending great amounts of class time rumor-mongering, picking out the foibles of students and teachers, and leaving the class for smoke breaks or chats in the hallway. But apparently administration felt its hands were tied. Soooo... (bored yet?)
The first semester's scores come back in, and fully one-third of this teacher's kids fail the test. The number of failures already exceeds, by more than a couple, the total number of test failures over any one year period from the last few school years. Let's also say that one of the other teachers in the department was at the county office for some business, and ran into the director of secondary schools, who was also the former principal of his particular school. This director immediately became animated about the large number of failures, and said he told the administration not to make the change, and that he hoped the change would be remanded for next year. All this confirmed the visiting teacher's suspicion that the score results were really, really bad, and were an eyesore for the school and the county.
Now - you are the principal. Assuming a non-topsy-turvy educational world (hah!), what would you do?
13 February 2007
Field Trip Highlights Part III
Friday, February 9th, 1:00 pm: We entered the confines of Davidson's beautiful campus minutes ago, and I was looking forward to hearing the responses from the kids upon seeing it. Unfortunately, half the girls were too preoccupied with who stank up the middle of the bus. Seriously. No, when I typed in girls, it wasn't a mistake, and frankly I don't know if my gentlemanly sensibilities will recover. Sigh. You would think this was the JV Football bus or something.
1:15 Country-come-to-town moment? We walked into the student center of "The Princeton of the South", and I hear, from the front of the line, "Where's the gift shop?" Double sigh.
5:00 Pericles is now over, and it was a magical performance, as befits a play containing magic in its plot. The Royal Shakespeare Company is known for its unique presentations of the plays, and being a traditional-leaning person, this is sometimes disconcerting. But much can be overlooked as long as "the play's the thing." The setting for this one was, more or less, that of war-torn Africa, but to tell the truth, as the play progressed the setting dissolved in my consciousness, and the wonder of the drama and the language was all that mattered.
What made this performance so special was the promenade stage area built for the audience and actors. Several rows of seats in the performance hall have temporarily disappeared beneath a large platform structure that can accomodate about 100 people in addition to the actors. At one end of the platform a wooden ramp walkway curves upward from the floor to the balcony, and at the other end there is a ladder to an open apartment box, and sliding doors below the box from which actors can emerge and disappear. Thus, the actors were at times walking around us (literally touching us at times), acting above us, descending to us, and even sneaking up on us. One of my students got invited to join a feast table and eat and drink while the performers sat around her and, well, performed the play.
I'll just make passing mention of the live musicians, a red light district set complete with pole dancers, and the wonderfully rendered recognition scenes at the end of the play when Pericles discovers first his long-lost daughter, and then his long-lost wife, who gets to really meet her daughter for the first time. This, of course left my chaperone parent in tears (pregnant mom, you know), but it left me, and a few students, misty-eyed as well. Absolutely brilliant, RSC. Oh, and Shakespeare - yeah, you're alright too.
10:55: We are about to roll into the school parking lot after our latest five hours on the road. Once again, we had to stop twice for bathroom breaks. On the second one, we took an exit that was more populated with shopping centers than service stations. Finally we said "what the hell" and pulled into a Borders Bookstore, which have nicer facilities in any case. Again, pajama pants have myteriously appeared, but apparently no one in Borders cared. The girls informed me, however, through giggles and mock disgust, that upon leaving the bathroom they saw some book called the "Kuma Satra" which was about sex positions, and when you open it up there were little stickers in it. "Did someone force you to open it?" "No." Then I told them that when I worked in a book store long ago, there weren't any such stickers. "Ahhh... that means you've looked at one before, Mr. P!" they said with shocked laughter. Score some cool points for the old man.
On the bus, the sleepers are stirring around a little. A couple of seats behind me two of the BFF's, who have been obnoxiously singing for an hour now, warble along with the Ataris' version of "The Boys of Summer", which they've found while scrolling through my iPod Nano (more cool points). The bus driver tells me how surprised he was that he loved the play so much. One girl tells me she has already decided to attend Davidson in two years (I hope so, but let her dream, either way). We are home safe, the same people, but hopefully changed just a little. Twelve happy kids, and three tired, but fortunate adults. It's rare, but sometimes things work exactly as they should.
1:15 Country-come-to-town moment? We walked into the student center of "The Princeton of the South", and I hear, from the front of the line, "Where's the gift shop?" Double sigh.
5:00 Pericles is now over, and it was a magical performance, as befits a play containing magic in its plot. The Royal Shakespeare Company is known for its unique presentations of the plays, and being a traditional-leaning person, this is sometimes disconcerting. But much can be overlooked as long as "the play's the thing." The setting for this one was, more or less, that of war-torn Africa, but to tell the truth, as the play progressed the setting dissolved in my consciousness, and the wonder of the drama and the language was all that mattered.
What made this performance so special was the promenade stage area built for the audience and actors. Several rows of seats in the performance hall have temporarily disappeared beneath a large platform structure that can accomodate about 100 people in addition to the actors. At one end of the platform a wooden ramp walkway curves upward from the floor to the balcony, and at the other end there is a ladder to an open apartment box, and sliding doors below the box from which actors can emerge and disappear. Thus, the actors were at times walking around us (literally touching us at times), acting above us, descending to us, and even sneaking up on us. One of my students got invited to join a feast table and eat and drink while the performers sat around her and, well, performed the play.
I'll just make passing mention of the live musicians, a red light district set complete with pole dancers, and the wonderfully rendered recognition scenes at the end of the play when Pericles discovers first his long-lost daughter, and then his long-lost wife, who gets to really meet her daughter for the first time. This, of course left my chaperone parent in tears (pregnant mom, you know), but it left me, and a few students, misty-eyed as well. Absolutely brilliant, RSC. Oh, and Shakespeare - yeah, you're alright too.
10:55: We are about to roll into the school parking lot after our latest five hours on the road. Once again, we had to stop twice for bathroom breaks. On the second one, we took an exit that was more populated with shopping centers than service stations. Finally we said "what the hell" and pulled into a Borders Bookstore, which have nicer facilities in any case. Again, pajama pants have myteriously appeared, but apparently no one in Borders cared. The girls informed me, however, through giggles and mock disgust, that upon leaving the bathroom they saw some book called the "Kuma Satra" which was about sex positions, and when you open it up there were little stickers in it. "Did someone force you to open it?" "No." Then I told them that when I worked in a book store long ago, there weren't any such stickers. "Ahhh... that means you've looked at one before, Mr. P!" they said with shocked laughter. Score some cool points for the old man.
On the bus, the sleepers are stirring around a little. A couple of seats behind me two of the BFF's, who have been obnoxiously singing for an hour now, warble along with the Ataris' version of "The Boys of Summer", which they've found while scrolling through my iPod Nano (more cool points). The bus driver tells me how surprised he was that he loved the play so much. One girl tells me she has already decided to attend Davidson in two years (I hope so, but let her dream, either way). We are home safe, the same people, but hopefully changed just a little. Twelve happy kids, and three tired, but fortunate adults. It's rare, but sometimes things work exactly as they should.
12 February 2007
Field Trip Highlights Part II
(Not much time tonight, so here is a short part II of III)
Friday, February 9, 9:00 a.m.: Those of us who awoke on time ate from the continental breakfast at the hotel. No great shakes, but it did the job for me. Not so for one of the girls who sat with me. She attempted to make her own "waffle in a cup" and failed miserably, then gave up, then got back up and tried again, then brought her perfectly good waffle to the table, dipped it in syrup for one measly bite, and declared that she needed McDonald's ASAP. Is that something anyone should ever need ASAP?
Also, I was stopped by a friendly woman who wanted to know if we were real North Carolinians. Turns out she was from Vermont, and loved listening to our dialects as we were breakfasting. "One of them just said 'hisself', and I thought it was so cute," she enthusiastically told me. I agree with her, but would never tell the kids that, being an English teacher and all. And don't let them try that "hisself" or "theirselves" stuff out in a paper just because the nice Yankee woman liked it.
11:30: We are eating at the mall, the glorious mall. There was almost a revolt over this mall as we left the hotel. The morning manager told me we did not want to get involved in the traffic at South Park mall, the finest such establishment in nearby Charlotte, if we wanted to make the play on time. So I told the kids we were going to the big mall that was a little closer by, even if it wasn't as chic. Wailing and gnashing ensued for a few moments, but they soon accustomed themselves to the change. "As long as they have two of my three favorite stores [Hollister, American Eagle, and something else], I'll be o.k.," earnestly announced one of the freshmen. Yes, wars, pestilence, poverty, cruddy hotel coffee -these things we can survive. But imagine the horror if they didn't have two of those three stores...
(Tomorrow, I promise, I will blog on the actual play, which was our reason for going, after all)
Friday, February 9, 9:00 a.m.: Those of us who awoke on time ate from the continental breakfast at the hotel. No great shakes, but it did the job for me. Not so for one of the girls who sat with me. She attempted to make her own "waffle in a cup" and failed miserably, then gave up, then got back up and tried again, then brought her perfectly good waffle to the table, dipped it in syrup for one measly bite, and declared that she needed McDonald's ASAP. Is that something anyone should ever need ASAP?
Also, I was stopped by a friendly woman who wanted to know if we were real North Carolinians. Turns out she was from Vermont, and loved listening to our dialects as we were breakfasting. "One of them just said 'hisself', and I thought it was so cute," she enthusiastically told me. I agree with her, but would never tell the kids that, being an English teacher and all. And don't let them try that "hisself" or "theirselves" stuff out in a paper just because the nice Yankee woman liked it.
11:30: We are eating at the mall, the glorious mall. There was almost a revolt over this mall as we left the hotel. The morning manager told me we did not want to get involved in the traffic at South Park mall, the finest such establishment in nearby Charlotte, if we wanted to make the play on time. So I told the kids we were going to the big mall that was a little closer by, even if it wasn't as chic. Wailing and gnashing ensued for a few moments, but they soon accustomed themselves to the change. "As long as they have two of my three favorite stores [Hollister, American Eagle, and something else], I'll be o.k.," earnestly announced one of the freshmen. Yes, wars, pestilence, poverty, cruddy hotel coffee -these things we can survive. But imagine the horror if they didn't have two of those three stores...
(Tomorrow, I promise, I will blog on the actual play, which was our reason for going, after all)
11 February 2007
Field Trip Highlights, Part I
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Then are dreamt of in your shopping malls."
- Hamlet (sort of)
O.k., I made that last part up, but to prove a point. If you want to lure a few more teenagers onto a Shakespeare field trip halfway across the state, promise them the trip will include a stop at a shopping mall, one bigger than any near their homes. Works every time.
We made it back, and in one piece, from our whirlwind trip, which included about 11 total hours on the bus, innumerable bathroom stops, and the kind of teenage girl silliness that mad scientists can only dream of replicating in a lab. Since I didn't have my laptop with me, I couldn't do several logs a day, as I wished I could. So, instead, I've decided to do some blog re-enacting, if you will. Hope you enjoy the highlights:
Thursday, Feb. 8th - 4:15 p.m.: We are on the road on our Magic Bus. The final count includes 9 girls, three boys, a 42 year-old parent (who is pregnant, much to her surprise, with kidlet #4!), a mildly balding bus driver/teacher aide, and a rapidly balding me. Sounds like that Ruby Tuesday's about thirty minutes away is in for some trouble, don't you think?
6:30: You know, it takes a long time to feed, and take payments from, fifteen people. Most amusing, during this waitress-induced interregnum, is to hear so many of the kids exclaim in dismay about how much their bills were. One fast-forwards to the pleasures of hearing such from one's own know-it-all 18 year-old after his first week at college.
7:10: "Mr. P, I've got to pee." "Are you sure?" "Yes." (brilliant question I had, no?)
8:45: We've just had another bathroom stop, this time at a Burger King. As I walked toward the building, I saw the manager and another worker, who were taking a break outside, quickly get inside to their posts. This was only to watch us all come in and use the restrooms, or stand around inside just, you know, because. I wasn't hungry myself, but I felt for the guys, who probably expected some good business. Two of the girls finally, mercifully, bought drinks; however, this may just come across as an insult to the BK Lounge staff. Oh, and those soft drinks ought to help cut down on the pee stops.
9:40: We are getting close, and are now on a two-lane highway, which is bad news for my parent chaperone, because from her seat, she nervously watches the bus driver hugging those yellow lines. She has indicated her anxiety in polite, but unsubtle ways. But there is no stopping a bus driver once he's in the zone.
10:00: We've arrived, after overshooting the hotel once and having to turn around, little by little, in a cul-de-sac. Somehow a couple of the girls are now in their pajamas. No sooner do I have the room assignments finalized than the kids are off, not stopping for a millisecond to find out what room their fearless leader, stalwart guide, and valued mentor will be staying in. I guess they figure I'll be somewhere on their floor, and they can always just go around banging on doors if they need me. It feels great to be valued.
11:30: Curse that bus trip! Since I've been away from t.v/radio/computers for six hours, I've had no idea that Anna Nicole Smith passed away! I'm going to ask the school system to install XM Radio on the buses immediately. It is intolerable not to know about the latest C-list celebrity drug overdoses!
Before turning out I have watched the news, and, flipping around, a bizarre segment on HBO's "Real Sex" about middle-aged women who take dildos around to housewife parties and train said housewives in how to do hand jobs. I mention this only because, I'll bet, no account of a school field trip has ever mentioned anything like this. With good reason, I might add.
(Part II soon to come, with details on the actual play, the mall trip, another pee story, and probably some lapses into sentimentality)
Then are dreamt of in your shopping malls."
- Hamlet (sort of)
O.k., I made that last part up, but to prove a point. If you want to lure a few more teenagers onto a Shakespeare field trip halfway across the state, promise them the trip will include a stop at a shopping mall, one bigger than any near their homes. Works every time.
We made it back, and in one piece, from our whirlwind trip, which included about 11 total hours on the bus, innumerable bathroom stops, and the kind of teenage girl silliness that mad scientists can only dream of replicating in a lab. Since I didn't have my laptop with me, I couldn't do several logs a day, as I wished I could. So, instead, I've decided to do some blog re-enacting, if you will. Hope you enjoy the highlights:
Thursday, Feb. 8th - 4:15 p.m.: We are on the road on our Magic Bus. The final count includes 9 girls, three boys, a 42 year-old parent (who is pregnant, much to her surprise, with kidlet #4!), a mildly balding bus driver/teacher aide, and a rapidly balding me. Sounds like that Ruby Tuesday's about thirty minutes away is in for some trouble, don't you think?
6:30: You know, it takes a long time to feed, and take payments from, fifteen people. Most amusing, during this waitress-induced interregnum, is to hear so many of the kids exclaim in dismay about how much their bills were. One fast-forwards to the pleasures of hearing such from one's own know-it-all 18 year-old after his first week at college.
7:10: "Mr. P, I've got to pee." "Are you sure?" "Yes." (brilliant question I had, no?)
8:45: We've just had another bathroom stop, this time at a Burger King. As I walked toward the building, I saw the manager and another worker, who were taking a break outside, quickly get inside to their posts. This was only to watch us all come in and use the restrooms, or stand around inside just, you know, because. I wasn't hungry myself, but I felt for the guys, who probably expected some good business. Two of the girls finally, mercifully, bought drinks; however, this may just come across as an insult to the BK Lounge staff. Oh, and those soft drinks ought to help cut down on the pee stops.
9:40: We are getting close, and are now on a two-lane highway, which is bad news for my parent chaperone, because from her seat, she nervously watches the bus driver hugging those yellow lines. She has indicated her anxiety in polite, but unsubtle ways. But there is no stopping a bus driver once he's in the zone.
10:00: We've arrived, after overshooting the hotel once and having to turn around, little by little, in a cul-de-sac. Somehow a couple of the girls are now in their pajamas. No sooner do I have the room assignments finalized than the kids are off, not stopping for a millisecond to find out what room their fearless leader, stalwart guide, and valued mentor will be staying in. I guess they figure I'll be somewhere on their floor, and they can always just go around banging on doors if they need me. It feels great to be valued.
11:30: Curse that bus trip! Since I've been away from t.v/radio/computers for six hours, I've had no idea that Anna Nicole Smith passed away! I'm going to ask the school system to install XM Radio on the buses immediately. It is intolerable not to know about the latest C-list celebrity drug overdoses!
Before turning out I have watched the news, and, flipping around, a bizarre segment on HBO's "Real Sex" about middle-aged women who take dildos around to housewife parties and train said housewives in how to do hand jobs. I mention this only because, I'll bet, no account of a school field trip has ever mentioned anything like this. With good reason, I might add.
(Part II soon to come, with details on the actual play, the mall trip, another pee story, and probably some lapses into sentimentality)
07 February 2007
A-Barding We Go
Tomorrow afternoon we set sail (well, set bus engine) - my barbarous crew of middle-class white girls, a couple of geeky boys, two chaperones, and I - for Davidson College, where we will get to watch a full dress rehearsal of Pericles, performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company. This is the next to last year of the RSC's residency at Davidson, so we are taking advantage while we can. Unlike last year, my kids will not get to act, since last year's trainers are now this year's performers. However, we do get to sit on stage, as the plays are being done in promenade style, meaning we will be like movie extras, with the action going on all around us - even in our faces from time to time (only we don't exactly know what is coming). The reviews have been tremendous, and I can't wait.
I will have much to report, I'm sure, upon our return over the weekend.
I will have much to report, I'm sure, upon our return over the weekend.
02 February 2007
Uh-Oh.
Principal Goldberg (who, btw, I love as a boss more and more all the time - so this pains me a little) is working on his Phd., and apparently he drank some sort of Kool-Aid during his last "cohort" session at one of our state universities. He returned talking about being a more "instructionally-focused" leader, and about reprioritizing "90% of the way I spend my time and energy" as the principal. One of the first things he was going to change, he said, was the way we run faculty meetings, and there was some mention of the faculty reading a book together (yikes).
Well, this was all very heady sounding, but also gauzy. So since hearing this I've been most curious to learn of something concrete that was going to result from his epiphany. Today we received a copy of a professional development newsletter article from our DPI entitled "Leadership and Professional Learning Communities". We were asked to read it before our next faculty meeting on the 14th (which I won't be able to attend, darn the luck).
I've read it twice, and I hate to go negatore, but I need to have fun every now and then, so here goes. Strike one is that, while one gets little sense as to what kind of monster is hiding behind the dense "professional" prose of the article, one definitely gets the sense there is such a beast. Strike two against the article is that by sentence three these Professional Learning Communities are thereafter referred to as PLC's. Acronyms = Evil, my friends. Add to this the recurrence of the following words througout the article: vision, mission, empowering, collaboration, data, data, data, and data. Corporate Speak = Evil's Twin Brother.
(As an aside, one wonders how Shakespeare and his acting companies ever made it without formulating a mission statement.)
And then, strike three is constituted by the sheer fatuity of sentences and phrases like: "Change in PLC is an interconnected process, weaving faculty and staff together by design in webs of teams."; "But when we draw on what Brown and Lauder (2001) call 'collective intelligence,' that is infinite rather than fixed, multi-faceted rather than singular, and that belongs to everyone... the capacity for learning and improvement is magnified many times over." (me - I left out a syntax error from that one!); "This leadership is a combination of facilitative, transformational, visionary, and instructional." (me - instructional what, exactly?); "Leaders who create PLCs know that there is an urgent need for immediate results, but authentic, lasting and widespread change is a journey."
There is more from the article I could mock, but let me save some powder for the report I get after the faculty meeting in a couple of weeks. It is still unclear what all this really means, but I can give you one last bad omen. The picture that accompanies the last page of the article shows six people, sitting around a desk, having a freakin' meeting.
No doubt it is a collaborative one.
Well, this was all very heady sounding, but also gauzy. So since hearing this I've been most curious to learn of something concrete that was going to result from his epiphany. Today we received a copy of a professional development newsletter article from our DPI entitled "Leadership and Professional Learning Communities". We were asked to read it before our next faculty meeting on the 14th (which I won't be able to attend, darn the luck).
I've read it twice, and I hate to go negatore, but I need to have fun every now and then, so here goes. Strike one is that, while one gets little sense as to what kind of monster is hiding behind the dense "professional" prose of the article, one definitely gets the sense there is such a beast. Strike two against the article is that by sentence three these Professional Learning Communities are thereafter referred to as PLC's. Acronyms = Evil, my friends. Add to this the recurrence of the following words througout the article: vision, mission, empowering, collaboration, data, data, data, and data. Corporate Speak = Evil's Twin Brother.
(As an aside, one wonders how Shakespeare and his acting companies ever made it without formulating a mission statement.)
And then, strike three is constituted by the sheer fatuity of sentences and phrases like: "Change in PLC is an interconnected process, weaving faculty and staff together by design in webs of teams."; "But when we draw on what Brown and Lauder (2001) call 'collective intelligence,' that is infinite rather than fixed, multi-faceted rather than singular, and that belongs to everyone... the capacity for learning and improvement is magnified many times over." (me - I left out a syntax error from that one!); "This leadership is a combination of facilitative, transformational, visionary, and instructional." (me - instructional what, exactly?); "Leaders who create PLCs know that there is an urgent need for immediate results, but authentic, lasting and widespread change is a journey."
There is more from the article I could mock, but let me save some powder for the report I get after the faculty meeting in a couple of weeks. It is still unclear what all this really means, but I can give you one last bad omen. The picture that accompanies the last page of the article shows six people, sitting around a desk, having a freakin' meeting.
No doubt it is a collaborative one.
30 January 2007
The Scent of Weird...
...has been wafting around me at school lately.
First, about once a week over the last month or so, I've been getting a visit from a senior, whom I've never taught before (though I've taught his sister), intent on relating his firm belief that Jesus was just a good man, and that Christianity is a fraud first perpetrated on us for political reasons by Constantine. Why me? I have no idea, since I don't talk about Christianity at school unless it is in the context of reading something like Genesis, or The Divine Comedy. I might make the occasional mention of my church, but never when he's been around. Yet there he is lurking at my door at some point each week, apparently dying to get past the small talk and... what, evangelize me? I know I'm (over?)prone to putting real people and incidents in the context of Flannery O'Connor's fiction, but I swear this kid couldn't do a better Hazel Motes imitation to save his life (get the Flan pun there?). Next thing you know he'll be telling me he has started "The Church Without Christ."
And then there is my former principal's wife. She is retired from whatever it was she used to do, and so has been a substitute teacher in the county for the last couple of years. Just before Christmas, she stopped me in the hall and told me just how disappointed and upset she was that her husband wasn't featured enough in last year's yearbook: "He was only in two pictures! Where was the page all about the administrators? We thought everyone loved "us" here last year, and yet he's barely mentioned?" On and on she went, while I shifted nervously, and then she ran off to her class duty as the bell rang. Since that time, she apparently never fails to mention to any class she subs for how upset she is about the lack of coverage for her husband, and how she doesn't think she can support our book by buying one this year (she didn't buy one last year, anyway, btw), and shouldn't yearbooks have big features about the principal?, etc.
My solace is that everyone thinks she is crazy, and that she is being unprofessional, and just a wee bit paranoid. And since she's from NYC, you can imagine what her craziness gets attributed to, and what epithet gets attached to her. Fortunately, while I'm not above exposing her in my blog, I would never refer to her with the "Y" word. Well, rarely, at least.
First, about once a week over the last month or so, I've been getting a visit from a senior, whom I've never taught before (though I've taught his sister), intent on relating his firm belief that Jesus was just a good man, and that Christianity is a fraud first perpetrated on us for political reasons by Constantine. Why me? I have no idea, since I don't talk about Christianity at school unless it is in the context of reading something like Genesis, or The Divine Comedy. I might make the occasional mention of my church, but never when he's been around. Yet there he is lurking at my door at some point each week, apparently dying to get past the small talk and... what, evangelize me? I know I'm (over?)prone to putting real people and incidents in the context of Flannery O'Connor's fiction, but I swear this kid couldn't do a better Hazel Motes imitation to save his life (get the Flan pun there?). Next thing you know he'll be telling me he has started "The Church Without Christ."
And then there is my former principal's wife. She is retired from whatever it was she used to do, and so has been a substitute teacher in the county for the last couple of years. Just before Christmas, she stopped me in the hall and told me just how disappointed and upset she was that her husband wasn't featured enough in last year's yearbook: "He was only in two pictures! Where was the page all about the administrators? We thought everyone loved "us" here last year, and yet he's barely mentioned?" On and on she went, while I shifted nervously, and then she ran off to her class duty as the bell rang. Since that time, she apparently never fails to mention to any class she subs for how upset she is about the lack of coverage for her husband, and how she doesn't think she can support our book by buying one this year (she didn't buy one last year, anyway, btw), and shouldn't yearbooks have big features about the principal?, etc.
My solace is that everyone thinks she is crazy, and that she is being unprofessional, and just a wee bit paranoid. And since she's from NYC, you can imagine what her craziness gets attributed to, and what epithet gets attached to her. Fortunately, while I'm not above exposing her in my blog, I would never refer to her with the "Y" word. Well, rarely, at least.
28 January 2007
I Would Fire My Secretary...
... if I had one. As it is, I have only myself to blame for bad scheduling. How could it be that I had to drive back to school for a 7:00 Parent Open House Night on Thursday, and then had to pull basketball gate duty from 4:30-9:30 on Friday night? In any case, I think I've finally recovered now as I write on Sunday evening.
Once I get my senses back, I'll be better able to report on school doings. For a slight diversion, though, I would like to turn to the topic of Sports Broadcasting and The English Language. We all know that cliches are, apparently, a vital part of any sports broadcast. But there are also certain irritating phrases or terms that get introduced into the sports patois and, like viruses, infect all involved.
The latest I've noticed from basketball broadcasts and sports radio conversations are: "We need to get our bigs more involved." [Bigs used to be called centers, and sometimes power forwards]; "Their guards are quick and long."[Long has become the new "tall"]; and my favorite, "One of the strengths he brings to the team is his ability to score the basketball."[Hmmm. Since the only way you can score in basketball is with the basketball, I guess that is a good strength to have. Just think how much someone would be worth if he could, say, score the sneaker, or score the jersey!]
Once I get my senses back, I'll be better able to report on school doings. For a slight diversion, though, I would like to turn to the topic of Sports Broadcasting and The English Language. We all know that cliches are, apparently, a vital part of any sports broadcast. But there are also certain irritating phrases or terms that get introduced into the sports patois and, like viruses, infect all involved.
The latest I've noticed from basketball broadcasts and sports radio conversations are: "We need to get our bigs more involved." [Bigs used to be called centers, and sometimes power forwards]; "Their guards are quick and long."[Long has become the new "tall"]; and my favorite, "One of the strengths he brings to the team is his ability to score the basketball."[Hmmm. Since the only way you can score in basketball is with the basketball, I guess that is a good strength to have. Just think how much someone would be worth if he could, say, score the sneaker, or score the jersey!]
24 January 2007
Ambivalence and The New Semester
The new semester has started, and I'm not sure how I feel, besides slightly unmotivated. I have a class of 28 sophomores, a class of 20 sophomores, and a much improved yearbook class of only 14. I've managed to piss off a couple more of my former students because I wouldn't let them back into yearbook class; this after they did virtually nothing the whole first semester. Oh, well - seems to be a theme for me lately.
Anyhow, I can't seem to get a good read on the new classes yet. Frankly, the size of my first period class, along with the reputations of some of the kids in there, scares me to death - secretly I picture some kind of full-scale revolt, or brawl, or something awful. However, they have been good so far, and a couple of the thuggish types in there have behaved better this year, so I hear. Perhaps there is hope, but I definitely won't share with them that they worry me; that would be a huge mistake.
The second period class will probably be more fun, but there is a huge "Bubba" factor in there. These guys are of the "smarty-pants, huntin' and fishin', always making thinly veiled sex and alcohol jokes and snickering at themselves" variety. I have a lot of experience with such, so I'm not too worried about them, though no doubt they will irritate the snot out of me most days.
Somehow I didn't have any failures last semester, but I doubt that will be the case this time around. Oh, and can anyone give me tips on how to teach non-English speakers to write? in English?
Anyhow, I can't seem to get a good read on the new classes yet. Frankly, the size of my first period class, along with the reputations of some of the kids in there, scares me to death - secretly I picture some kind of full-scale revolt, or brawl, or something awful. However, they have been good so far, and a couple of the thuggish types in there have behaved better this year, so I hear. Perhaps there is hope, but I definitely won't share with them that they worry me; that would be a huge mistake.
The second period class will probably be more fun, but there is a huge "Bubba" factor in there. These guys are of the "smarty-pants, huntin' and fishin', always making thinly veiled sex and alcohol jokes and snickering at themselves" variety. I have a lot of experience with such, so I'm not too worried about them, though no doubt they will irritate the snot out of me most days.
Somehow I didn't have any failures last semester, but I doubt that will be the case this time around. Oh, and can anyone give me tips on how to teach non-English speakers to write? in English?
20 January 2007
The #1 Demographic for Those Who Hate MySpace.com...
... has to be high school teachers and administrators. Trust me, I don't hate all cutting-edge technology-related products and activities (though I probably won't know about them until they are old news to many of my family members and friends). I generally accept the conventional wisdom that the internet, and its popular sites, can be really beneficial, or really rotten, depending on how utilized. But MySpace? Let's just say I picture Screwtape and his buddies cooking that one up somewhere in the boss's basement. Anywhere there are kids on computers at school, it is highly likely that they are (at least on the side) finding a way around the security software and onto their idiotic personal MySpace pages.
Earlier in the year I expressed misgivings about how the MySpace format encourages teens to surrender to the world that which should remain private. It encourages narcissism and self-absorbtion, things most teens do not suffer from lack of in the first place. And,in passing, I'll just mention the well-documented fact that, oh, freakin' pedophiles use MySpace to great advantage. But here is what has me pissed off and ready crack heads right now:
One of our business teachers discovered on Thursday that there are two fraudulent (and public) MySpace pages that have been set up for a couple of teachers at our school. These were obviously set up by some smart-ass students(actually, it seems fairly clear who it was). One of them is set up for a popular gym coach, and the site doesn't mock or slander him, though it pokes some gentle fun at him. The other, set up for a civics teacher, is far more malicious.
Now, this teacher is a friend of mine, but I will readily admit he has an eccentric personality, and a kind of halting, labored delivery even in casual conversation. He is one of those teachers that we probably all had who was always a step behind his students, and therefore an easy target for practical jokes, purposely stupid questions, etc. But he is a really nice man, conscientious, and someone who constantly worries about both what his test scores will look like and the job he's doing as a girls basketball coach.
Not only was the fraudulent information on his page of a mocking nature, but the comments from "friends" on his page, who are of course other students at school, contain some awfully hateful language. Reading the thread, you can see that some got the joke right away, while others took a while; however, once it was clearly established that the page was not "real", the hate-spewers seemed to really unburden themselves.
The principal has already been informed, and the pages were printed out in their entirety in case they are deleted from the site. I have no idea what will happen from here, but I hope the discipline is severe. The gym teacher found out about his page and was angry, but so far as I know the civics teacher doesn't know, and for the sake of his feelings I hope he never finds out. (On the other hand, wouldn't it be just desserts for both of them to sue for defamation?)
Aside from my anger and disappointment in some of the students who were contributing to the "dialogue" on the site, most of whom are at least community-college bound,I'm astounded at their stupidity. By posting on a public site, which was so carelessly guarded that most of the faculty now knows about it, they have surrendered control of their reputations. Their posts, of course, all came attached with their little "friend" picture (duh!). Who would want to write a letter of recommendation for the most egregious of these posters? Who wants to give their rough drafts one more extra read, or cut them a break for a minor disciplinary matter? How might someone on the scholarship committee (I'm on it) view this when it came time to vote on a certain scholarships? And, as already mentioned, do they not have any clue about legal ramifications?
Plus, there are a couple of them I would really like to pull aside and punch. But that is one ramification, alas, that won't come to fruition.
Jerks.
Earlier in the year I expressed misgivings about how the MySpace format encourages teens to surrender to the world that which should remain private. It encourages narcissism and self-absorbtion, things most teens do not suffer from lack of in the first place. And,in passing, I'll just mention the well-documented fact that, oh, freakin' pedophiles use MySpace to great advantage. But here is what has me pissed off and ready crack heads right now:
One of our business teachers discovered on Thursday that there are two fraudulent (and public) MySpace pages that have been set up for a couple of teachers at our school. These were obviously set up by some smart-ass students(actually, it seems fairly clear who it was). One of them is set up for a popular gym coach, and the site doesn't mock or slander him, though it pokes some gentle fun at him. The other, set up for a civics teacher, is far more malicious.
Now, this teacher is a friend of mine, but I will readily admit he has an eccentric personality, and a kind of halting, labored delivery even in casual conversation. He is one of those teachers that we probably all had who was always a step behind his students, and therefore an easy target for practical jokes, purposely stupid questions, etc. But he is a really nice man, conscientious, and someone who constantly worries about both what his test scores will look like and the job he's doing as a girls basketball coach.
Not only was the fraudulent information on his page of a mocking nature, but the comments from "friends" on his page, who are of course other students at school, contain some awfully hateful language. Reading the thread, you can see that some got the joke right away, while others took a while; however, once it was clearly established that the page was not "real", the hate-spewers seemed to really unburden themselves.
The principal has already been informed, and the pages were printed out in their entirety in case they are deleted from the site. I have no idea what will happen from here, but I hope the discipline is severe. The gym teacher found out about his page and was angry, but so far as I know the civics teacher doesn't know, and for the sake of his feelings I hope he never finds out. (On the other hand, wouldn't it be just desserts for both of them to sue for defamation?)
Aside from my anger and disappointment in some of the students who were contributing to the "dialogue" on the site, most of whom are at least community-college bound,I'm astounded at their stupidity. By posting on a public site, which was so carelessly guarded that most of the faculty now knows about it, they have surrendered control of their reputations. Their posts, of course, all came attached with their little "friend" picture (duh!). Who would want to write a letter of recommendation for the most egregious of these posters? Who wants to give their rough drafts one more extra read, or cut them a break for a minor disciplinary matter? How might someone on the scholarship committee (I'm on it) view this when it came time to vote on a certain scholarships? And, as already mentioned, do they not have any clue about legal ramifications?
Plus, there are a couple of them I would really like to pull aside and punch. But that is one ramification, alas, that won't come to fruition.
Jerks.
17 January 2007
Mr. P Tells Unwelcome Truths; Girls in Snit
Usually the end of the semester, for me at least, is a time for fond farewells and sentimental remembrances that often have nothing to do with reality. Oh sure, I've wanted to strangle the hemoglobin out of many of these kids for months, but hey, I can afford to only remember the good times when I know I'm getting rid of the little lovelies for good (or at least for a semester).
Yesterday, the last day before exams, ended on a slightly more bitter note however. Things kind of came to a boil between me and three of the "it" girls from my honors class (they are also in my yearbook class) when they started complaining bitterly about how mean another teacher was to them (frankly, they are 75% right). But these are among the same girls (from a group that refer to themselves as "the Eight") who in the last couple of weeks have completely blown off class due to social dramas, and have decided they don't need to be quiet when someone (like, oh, their teacher) is speaking. And though this is none of my business, I suppose, two of "the Eight" just totally toyed with and dumped on a couple of boys in successive weeks.
I ended up telling the girls, in the most constructively critical way that I could, that they were quickly cementing a reputation around the school for being bratty and whiny.
Well.
Hysterics ensued, voices reached that completely irritating tone that only the adolescent is capable of, and what I said was already being misrepresented before the bell rung. An unfortunate, ugly ending to the day (though they couldn't help smiling as I laughed at their outrage). Still, I felt a little guilty about it for a while.
"The Eight", huh? I think I will begin referring to them as The Directorate.
Yesterday, the last day before exams, ended on a slightly more bitter note however. Things kind of came to a boil between me and three of the "it" girls from my honors class (they are also in my yearbook class) when they started complaining bitterly about how mean another teacher was to them (frankly, they are 75% right). But these are among the same girls (from a group that refer to themselves as "the Eight") who in the last couple of weeks have completely blown off class due to social dramas, and have decided they don't need to be quiet when someone (like, oh, their teacher) is speaking. And though this is none of my business, I suppose, two of "the Eight" just totally toyed with and dumped on a couple of boys in successive weeks.
I ended up telling the girls, in the most constructively critical way that I could, that they were quickly cementing a reputation around the school for being bratty and whiny.
Well.
Hysterics ensued, voices reached that completely irritating tone that only the adolescent is capable of, and what I said was already being misrepresented before the bell rung. An unfortunate, ugly ending to the day (though they couldn't help smiling as I laughed at their outrage). Still, I felt a little guilty about it for a while.
"The Eight", huh? I think I will begin referring to them as The Directorate.
14 January 2007
Curriculum Sans Content
I had a couple of thoughts to add to the discussion going on at Wyfe's blog about "theory" in English Departments. In the comments, reader Michael referenced a new book by Michael Berube entitled What's Liberal About The Liberal Arts? Classroom Politics and "Bias" in Higher Education. I haven't read the book, but recently read a lengthy review of it in the November "The New Criterion" by Mark Bauerlein, an English professor at Emory U. (registration is required to read the review on the TNC website).
I take it that Bauerlein is a conservative (gasp), and that Berube is a moderate liberal. Bauerlein's review contains some positive comments, including an acknowledgement of what Michael (the blog reader) says about Berube's evenhanded approach to theory. His chief criticisms, however, include Berube's acceptance of the notion that it really doesn't matter what you are teaching, as long as you are teaching kids to "open your minds, face verbal challenges, keep complacency at bay, and play fair."
Bauerlein has no problem with these practices in the classroom, except that they seem to become goals of a liberal arts education in and of themselves . He says, "This is today's fallback position for liberalism in higher education. It used to push curricular innovations such as 'opening the canon,' but those enthusiasms faded years ago. Now, shying away from content, it emphasizes forensic ideas and content-less habits such as critical thinking."
Ah, critical thinking. In case you ever wondered if the practices and ideas of the ivory tower really influenced public education, look no further than that loaded term. Go to any workshop, or heck, any teacher's meeting, and you will hear the mantra "Our kids just don't know how to do critical thinking anymore!" (as if the concept had a centuries-old tradition of usage). The Kool-Aid, it hath been swallowed.
In English especially, one can see the effects of this contentless "critical thinking" in the way state curriculum goals are written. There are rarely any specifics. Instead, the goals are written like this: "The learner will be able analyze a variety of fiction and non-fiction texts of increasing complexity from personal, social, and critical standpoints." For the last three years of high school, the goals include some mention of world (10th grade), American (11th grade), and British (12th grade) literature, but no specific works, authors, or eras are required to be taught. Our ninth graders take a state-mandated test at the end of ninth grade English that is, essentially, a reading aptitude test sprinkled with some questions involving literary terms. Why? Well, the curriculum for ninth grade demands that no particular texts or authors be taught during the year (not even Romeo and Juliet). Hamlet, Harry Potter, or Beatrix Potter; it doesn't matter, so long as we are hitting those critical thinking skills.
Well, I have and will continue to call hogwash on this concept. No one reads in order to improve their "critical thinking" skills, nor do they derive any moral benefit from concentrating on such abstract goals. Books, plays, or poems are not life-altering if they are approached in such a cold manner. In my experience as a teenager and college student, reading Huckleberry Finn or Macbeth stimulated me to think because I was moved by them (and, I was a slothful student who was, fortunately, forced to read them), not because of the reading skills the teacher was focusing on. Whatever "critical thinking" skills I learned came from my encounters with rather incredible content, and not the other way around.
Nor do such emphases really invite someone to wrestle with the traditions or aesthetic norms that have shaped so much of who we are (this is true, it would seem, even for those who want to repudiate them).
I would not want our state education boards to legislate what should be read in every classroom title by title, because some teacher autonomy and flexibility is important. But there are a few titles that should be in the curriculum, and certainly some authors that every student needs to encounter. And, since curricula is updated every few years, if reading Shakespeare no longer seems important to our society, say fifty years from now (ha!), then replace him with someone who has similarly stood the test of time. I just don't think we should continue to leave the English curricula, nor the testing that is based on it, in a completely free-floating content-zone.
I take it that Bauerlein is a conservative (gasp), and that Berube is a moderate liberal. Bauerlein's review contains some positive comments, including an acknowledgement of what Michael (the blog reader) says about Berube's evenhanded approach to theory. His chief criticisms, however, include Berube's acceptance of the notion that it really doesn't matter what you are teaching, as long as you are teaching kids to "open your minds, face verbal challenges, keep complacency at bay, and play fair."
Bauerlein has no problem with these practices in the classroom, except that they seem to become goals of a liberal arts education in and of themselves . He says, "This is today's fallback position for liberalism in higher education. It used to push curricular innovations such as 'opening the canon,' but those enthusiasms faded years ago. Now, shying away from content, it emphasizes forensic ideas and content-less habits such as critical thinking."
Ah, critical thinking. In case you ever wondered if the practices and ideas of the ivory tower really influenced public education, look no further than that loaded term. Go to any workshop, or heck, any teacher's meeting, and you will hear the mantra "Our kids just don't know how to do critical thinking anymore!" (as if the concept had a centuries-old tradition of usage). The Kool-Aid, it hath been swallowed.
In English especially, one can see the effects of this contentless "critical thinking" in the way state curriculum goals are written. There are rarely any specifics. Instead, the goals are written like this: "The learner will be able analyze a variety of fiction and non-fiction texts of increasing complexity from personal, social, and critical standpoints." For the last three years of high school, the goals include some mention of world (10th grade), American (11th grade), and British (12th grade) literature, but no specific works, authors, or eras are required to be taught. Our ninth graders take a state-mandated test at the end of ninth grade English that is, essentially, a reading aptitude test sprinkled with some questions involving literary terms. Why? Well, the curriculum for ninth grade demands that no particular texts or authors be taught during the year (not even Romeo and Juliet). Hamlet, Harry Potter, or Beatrix Potter; it doesn't matter, so long as we are hitting those critical thinking skills.
Well, I have and will continue to call hogwash on this concept. No one reads in order to improve their "critical thinking" skills, nor do they derive any moral benefit from concentrating on such abstract goals. Books, plays, or poems are not life-altering if they are approached in such a cold manner. In my experience as a teenager and college student, reading Huckleberry Finn or Macbeth stimulated me to think because I was moved by them (and, I was a slothful student who was, fortunately, forced to read them), not because of the reading skills the teacher was focusing on. Whatever "critical thinking" skills I learned came from my encounters with rather incredible content, and not the other way around.
Nor do such emphases really invite someone to wrestle with the traditions or aesthetic norms that have shaped so much of who we are (this is true, it would seem, even for those who want to repudiate them).
I would not want our state education boards to legislate what should be read in every classroom title by title, because some teacher autonomy and flexibility is important. But there are a few titles that should be in the curriculum, and certainly some authors that every student needs to encounter. And, since curricula is updated every few years, if reading Shakespeare no longer seems important to our society, say fifty years from now (ha!), then replace him with someone who has similarly stood the test of time. I just don't think we should continue to leave the English curricula, nor the testing that is based on it, in a completely free-floating content-zone.
10 January 2007
Gotta Love it When...
... life imitates art. We've been finishing up "A Midsummer Night's Dream" in honors class this week. A couple of days ago I stopped in the middle of Act III to emphasize that we could read the confusions among the two couples (Hermia and Lysander, Helena and Demetrius) as Shakespeare's way of exploring the risks and dangers of love. "In order to have true love," I said, "don't you have to give up a little of yourself? When you decide to completely trust someone, aren't you running the huge risks of being betrayed and hurt?"
Well, little did I know (until I noticed something amiss a little later in class) that the latest "hot couple" in there was a hot couple no more. They started dating right before Christmas, and I must say they looked adorable, and happy, together. But, over the weekend, he got word that she was hanging out with another boy from another school, and... well, you know. Of course, her story is that she didn't even like this other guy at first, he was just bothering her, etc. But now, since she's conveniently free, well he's just peachy.
As for boy #1, (with apologies to Jesse Jackson), he's now quite dejected after being rejected and unelected. I mean, talk about your sad puppy dog. Perhaps it's unfair, and sexist, but I don't feel like I have to be as sensitive to boys in this situation as I do to girls. It's not like he's going to cry when I needle him, after all (which I haven't done openly, of course - though I did ask him if the sun came up this morning).
From what I hear, he's pushing hard behind the scenes to retrieve the iPod Nano he gave her for Christmas.
What was that, Lysander? "The course of true love never did run smooth."
Well, little did I know (until I noticed something amiss a little later in class) that the latest "hot couple" in there was a hot couple no more. They started dating right before Christmas, and I must say they looked adorable, and happy, together. But, over the weekend, he got word that she was hanging out with another boy from another school, and... well, you know. Of course, her story is that she didn't even like this other guy at first, he was just bothering her, etc. But now, since she's conveniently free, well he's just peachy.
As for boy #1, (with apologies to Jesse Jackson), he's now quite dejected after being rejected and unelected. I mean, talk about your sad puppy dog. Perhaps it's unfair, and sexist, but I don't feel like I have to be as sensitive to boys in this situation as I do to girls. It's not like he's going to cry when I needle him, after all (which I haven't done openly, of course - though I did ask him if the sun came up this morning).
From what I hear, he's pushing hard behind the scenes to retrieve the iPod Nano he gave her for Christmas.
What was that, Lysander? "The course of true love never did run smooth."
07 January 2007
All Our Bad News, Contd.
I won't dwell on it, I promise. But since most of this blog is dedicated to daily school life, I'll touch on the memorial service that was. Perhaps our school district is just weird, or perhaps other schools do this, but Friday marked the second funeral memorial service in five months to be held in our auditorium. School was actually dismissed early, and the casket was actually rolled in and put in front of the stage. The procession drove up, and the large family walked in. No less than two Baptist preachers gave eulogy sermons with enough bad cliches for a lifetime, and there was a fair share of over-emotive contemporary spiritual songs with accompanying soundtracks played from the booth. There was a PowerPoint presentation produced by the funeral home which, whatever it's purpose, served as a perfect catalyst for making emotionally raw teenagers (and a few family members) sob even more loudly.
Much of this is a function of the Southern love affair with sentimentality, I think. Much of it is also a function of the way our general culture spurns the idea of dignity. For every dignified moment of the service, there seemed two moments of public wallowing. I just don't know that it was good for my poor, sweet student to mount the stage and attempt to say a few barely perceptible words about her boyfriend through her heaving and crying. Maybe it's just me, but if I were her parent or grandparent, I would have discouraged that scene.
Again, sorry for the hard heart I fear I'm displaying. But I just believe, in these situations, that many people aren't trying to help our kids grieve as much as they are encouraging a cult of suffering. As an example, I'll point to the sister of the murdered senior from the beginning of the school year. She has, apparently, been almost uncontrollable in class; she's behaving like a brat, and feels entitled to, it is believed, because her sister was killed and people have indulged her. I really, really hope that doesn't happen to this poor girl, my student, as well. She is only in tenth grade, for God's sake, and while she loved her boyfriend, he was not her husband. She still has a life to live; we need to love her and support her, but not turn her into a living martyr.
Much of this is a function of the Southern love affair with sentimentality, I think. Much of it is also a function of the way our general culture spurns the idea of dignity. For every dignified moment of the service, there seemed two moments of public wallowing. I just don't know that it was good for my poor, sweet student to mount the stage and attempt to say a few barely perceptible words about her boyfriend through her heaving and crying. Maybe it's just me, but if I were her parent or grandparent, I would have discouraged that scene.
Again, sorry for the hard heart I fear I'm displaying. But I just believe, in these situations, that many people aren't trying to help our kids grieve as much as they are encouraging a cult of suffering. As an example, I'll point to the sister of the murdered senior from the beginning of the school year. She has, apparently, been almost uncontrollable in class; she's behaving like a brat, and feels entitled to, it is believed, because her sister was killed and people have indulged her. I really, really hope that doesn't happen to this poor girl, my student, as well. She is only in tenth grade, for God's sake, and while she loved her boyfriend, he was not her husband. She still has a life to live; we need to love her and support her, but not turn her into a living martyr.
04 January 2007
Are We Cursed?
As soon as I walked in the school building yesterday morning, I knew something wasn't right. I saw the principal speaking earnestly with the guidance counselor, saw our former principal coming up the hall, and saw some girls talking to a teacher and crying. A few minutes later, one of my kids asked me if I had heard about the student who had been killed in an accident the night before. Evidently he was going way too fast around a sharp curve near his home, lost control, and went flying off the road.
He was a senior, and, as with our last student death, a kid I had never taught. Not having great academic or conduct records, he was nonetheless one of those kids who had been muddling through enough to graduate. Apparently he drove in this fashion all the time, and I've heard he had compiled nine tickets in his short driving life. Call me callous, but this lessens my sympathy for him, though not for his family.
By 8:30 yesterday morning, the usual army of counselors had set up shop in the media center, and, as with our student death earlier in the year, I stayed away. Some kids, including a few with virtually no connections to the student, were in there all day.
My real connection to this situation is that his girlfriend is in my first period class, so my second thought (after, "Dammit. Not again.") was about her. She's a sweet girl from a troubled family, and I knew she would be devastated.
She has been to school the last couple of days to talk with counselors and a teacher who is a good mentor for her, but has not been coming to class. Really, she shouldn't until Monday. And although I am very fond of her, I'll admit I was relieved that she didn't come to class today, and that I didn't have to squarely face the situation yet. In fact, to be perfectly honest, I find myself resistant to the whole idea of dealing with student grief right now. I'm not proud of this, but I've seen such excesses in response to death already this year that I'm a little numbed to it. (In addition to previously catalogued excesses over our murdered student earlier in the year, not long ago I had no less than seven girls tardy to class because they all had to be in the bathroom crying with their friend whose grandfather had just passed away from Alzheimer's complications).
Certainly if my student needs my help, I'll give it in a heartbeat. Maybe what she will need from me though, in the week and half we have left in this semester, is as much of a normal environment as possible.
Or maybe I'm trying to justify some disturbing reactions on my part.
He was a senior, and, as with our last student death, a kid I had never taught. Not having great academic or conduct records, he was nonetheless one of those kids who had been muddling through enough to graduate. Apparently he drove in this fashion all the time, and I've heard he had compiled nine tickets in his short driving life. Call me callous, but this lessens my sympathy for him, though not for his family.
By 8:30 yesterday morning, the usual army of counselors had set up shop in the media center, and, as with our student death earlier in the year, I stayed away. Some kids, including a few with virtually no connections to the student, were in there all day.
My real connection to this situation is that his girlfriend is in my first period class, so my second thought (after, "Dammit. Not again.") was about her. She's a sweet girl from a troubled family, and I knew she would be devastated.
She has been to school the last couple of days to talk with counselors and a teacher who is a good mentor for her, but has not been coming to class. Really, she shouldn't until Monday. And although I am very fond of her, I'll admit I was relieved that she didn't come to class today, and that I didn't have to squarely face the situation yet. In fact, to be perfectly honest, I find myself resistant to the whole idea of dealing with student grief right now. I'm not proud of this, but I've seen such excesses in response to death already this year that I'm a little numbed to it. (In addition to previously catalogued excesses over our murdered student earlier in the year, not long ago I had no less than seven girls tardy to class because they all had to be in the bathroom crying with their friend whose grandfather had just passed away from Alzheimer's complications).
Certainly if my student needs my help, I'll give it in a heartbeat. Maybe what she will need from me though, in the week and half we have left in this semester, is as much of a normal environment as possible.
Or maybe I'm trying to justify some disturbing reactions on my part.
01 January 2007
Reading List Update
I'm a book addict, so December (with b-day and Christmas) always brings a cache of dead trees that I have no shelf space for. And yet, I ask for more.
Any-hoo, for what it's worth, here is what my stack-o-books looks like as a result of December. This year there are a lot of spiritually-related titles, which wasn't really planned as I look back on it. Maybe the big Someone is trying to tell me something about my 2006?:
Novels:
Refiner's Fire and A Winter's Tale, both by Mark Helprin. - After reading A Soldier of the Great War last summer, I can't get enough of Helprin
Philosophy/Culture:
Manliness, by Harvey Mansfield - See last post for why I need this one. I actually heard Mansfield give a lecture based on this book way back last spring, at NC State. A brilliant, congenial man with an idiosynchratic writing style that takes a while to get used to.
Memoirs:
Teacher Man, by Frank McCourt - Obvious why someone gave me this. I never read McCourt's other bestsellers, but this one chronicles his thirty years as a creative writing teacher. From a few glances, it looks quite good.
Gentle Regrets, by Roger Scruton - Memoir-esque essays from the British philosopher. Read a great review of this a year ago, and never got around to buying it until now.
Non-Fiction:
Postmodernism 101 - A first course for the curious Christian, by Heath White - Yes, I've encountered more than enough postmodern readings in my life to know what it is (depending on your definition of "is"), but haven't read a serious take on it from a Christian, much less a philosophy prof. who professes Christianity. Already read this one, and enjoyed it more than I imagined I would.
The Language of God, by Francis Collins - Just read a couple of great reviews of this, and got excited about it. Collins, the head of the Human Genome Project, writes about his migration from atheism to faith, and squares evolution with belief in God.
Pensees, by Blaise Pascal - Been reading about Pascal for years, so thought I would finally go to the source. A Christian anti-Enlightenment Frenchman who was nonetheless a famous Enlightenment-era mathematician. Those were the days, I guess.
Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons, by Frederick Beuchner - What better way to finish such a fun-sucking list than with sermons from an old Presby minister? Actually, Beuchner's reputation as a writer is well-established, and after I read an excerpt from one of these sermons, I was hooked.
So there you go. In addition, I need to read both The Winter's Tale (Shakespeare, not Helprin), and Pericles before we go see the Royal Shakespeare Company perform at Davidson College next month. Maybe I should just top the whole thing off with a grim cherry like King Lear.
Should have another stack to report on by late spring or so.
Any-hoo, for what it's worth, here is what my stack-o-books looks like as a result of December. This year there are a lot of spiritually-related titles, which wasn't really planned as I look back on it. Maybe the big Someone is trying to tell me something about my 2006?:
Novels:
Refiner's Fire and A Winter's Tale, both by Mark Helprin. - After reading A Soldier of the Great War last summer, I can't get enough of Helprin
Philosophy/Culture:
Manliness, by Harvey Mansfield - See last post for why I need this one. I actually heard Mansfield give a lecture based on this book way back last spring, at NC State. A brilliant, congenial man with an idiosynchratic writing style that takes a while to get used to.
Memoirs:
Teacher Man, by Frank McCourt - Obvious why someone gave me this. I never read McCourt's other bestsellers, but this one chronicles his thirty years as a creative writing teacher. From a few glances, it looks quite good.
Gentle Regrets, by Roger Scruton - Memoir-esque essays from the British philosopher. Read a great review of this a year ago, and never got around to buying it until now.
Non-Fiction:
Postmodernism 101 - A first course for the curious Christian, by Heath White - Yes, I've encountered more than enough postmodern readings in my life to know what it is (depending on your definition of "is"), but haven't read a serious take on it from a Christian, much less a philosophy prof. who professes Christianity. Already read this one, and enjoyed it more than I imagined I would.
The Language of God, by Francis Collins - Just read a couple of great reviews of this, and got excited about it. Collins, the head of the Human Genome Project, writes about his migration from atheism to faith, and squares evolution with belief in God.
Pensees, by Blaise Pascal - Been reading about Pascal for years, so thought I would finally go to the source. A Christian anti-Enlightenment Frenchman who was nonetheless a famous Enlightenment-era mathematician. Those were the days, I guess.
Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons, by Frederick Beuchner - What better way to finish such a fun-sucking list than with sermons from an old Presby minister? Actually, Beuchner's reputation as a writer is well-established, and after I read an excerpt from one of these sermons, I was hooked.
So there you go. In addition, I need to read both The Winter's Tale (Shakespeare, not Helprin), and Pericles before we go see the Royal Shakespeare Company perform at Davidson College next month. Maybe I should just top the whole thing off with a grim cherry like King Lear.
Should have another stack to report on by late spring or so.
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