Adventures in Teaching

So.

If you haven't peeped the recent news cycles - the great state of North Carolina, is currently dedicating itself to the creation of the worst education system in these United States. The decision to appropriate funds to creating opportunities for parents to get their children out of public schools, instead of using those funds to making public schools better - is nothing if not a testament to the fact that our governor cares...almost nothing about North Carolina's children. He also cares nothing about the people who give their lives to educating those children - making the choice to continue our 6  year pay freeze (while citing the need for a "living wage" when he raised salaries for his staff); taking the cap of class size restrictions (when research shows that after 17, students start making smaller gains in the classroom); and I could go on...but a certain level of rage begins to build when I list all of the ways in which my governor told me that my profession is worthless.

Not the point of this post.

The most potentially harmful creation of this educational climate, is the rise in competitiveness among teachers. Let's be honest - if the only possible shot you have at getting a decent pay boost comes through your students excelling on a norm-referenced standardized test, that means that you have a better chance at making money if the teacher next door has a less-than stellar year. Veteran teachers are less willing to give novices the sorts of classroom management strategies that will make a learning environment possible; novice teachers are less willing to share innovative techniques geared towards educating an always changing population of students; and the administrators in any given building are more likely to make knee-jerk reactions (in terms of room-assignment, scheduling, and the like) based on year-to-year changes in test scores which can lead to even greater levels of resentment between colleagues.

But we're teachers....we love the children....we're supposed to rise above and work tireless hours, and help each other, and bla, bla , bla....but when I'm begging my friends for extra cash so I can buy supplies for my classroom - all the while praying that my car engine holds on until December when (hopefully) I get a little testing bonus and can afford to get my car serviced...it feels like it may be time to consider other economic opportunities.

Sorry. Again. Not the point of this post.

The point is this: It's no secret that teachers are under paid, over worked, and under appreciated - it would be nice if schools were able to provide an environment where we could still lean on each other for support.

Peace Be

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 9/30

lesson plan

take attendance

check the homework

pass out banana bread and chocolate milk

check for dress code

ignore the shirts worn twice in a row

check for a change in colors

ask tysean about his daughter

give him coupons for diapers and teething rings

hug stephanie

hug dionte

smack josh upside the head

tell him

the next time he wants to curse at a teacher

to pretend he is cursing at you

watch his shoulders sag

accept his apology

pass out paper

pass out pencils

pass out spanish to english dictionaries

remind miguel he does not have to hide who he is

when he tries to put it away

smile at gloria when she asks for more breakfast

whisper you brought some food for her to take home

tell her you’re proud of how she takes care of her brother

ask if her aunt is still looking for jobs

play some music

let them check the morning warm up

let them laugh at your awkward dance

encourage ruth to sing

tell andy not to

tell andy to get back on task

tell andy if he does not stay in his seat

he will have to take out the breakfast trash

find a marker

take a breath

turn to the class

say let’s get started

teach some math

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 8/30

Disclaimer: I mean no dis to Taylor Mali or his piece "What Teachers Make", which I think is awesome (and usually find motivational when I come back to it). This is just what happened at 4 in the morn when I finished a marathon grading / lesson planning session, and couldn't get back to sleep. 

the thing about Taylor Mali is

he is no longer a teacher

years into budget cuts and standardized minds

i wonder how it feels

to be one of the thousand

sent into the war zone with his battle cry poem

to discover there is far too little pretty here

that nobility falls through the cracks

that most days you are more pharisee than messiah

and on others your students will hand you your cross

make nails of complacency and inattention

and pin you broken to this profession

what kind of difference are you making at 4 am

except to your tear ducts and blood pressure

i tell folks

i am a teacher

and some days

i wish i were any other thing

something not so heartbreaking

a little more inconsequential

Adventures in Education Reform

So.

The school where I work is one of three in the county that serves the at-risk communities in the area. To paint the picture: more than 90% of our kids are on free/reduced lunch; more than 75% have performed below grade level in math & reading during their entire middle school careers; more than 50% learned English as a second language....and other statistics that send most teachers in the other direction....

At some point, I'll talk to you about the complete failure of the American public education system - how the people that make educational policy have no idea what the implications of their policies are on what happens in a classroom; how the push towards "equitable" education, specifically the way we handle students with physical handicaps or learning disabilities, is doing a disservice to students without those challenges and an even greater disservice to the students we're supposed to be helping; how zoning within a district and tracking within a school limits the perceived potential of a child and dictates the quality of education a child is going to receive; how nearly 30% of the school year is devoted to standardized testing; how testing is a multi-billion dollar industry; how passing/failing a standardized test is not a true measurement of how much material a student knows, nor a measure of whether or not they are prepared for the next grade/course; and how "teacher accountability" cannot mean the same thing as "good test scores". 

But there's no time for that today. Today's educational travesty is centered around these children believing the hype of the American dream, without understanding the reality of American struggle.

And of course these kids understand struggle. Some of their daily lives are horror stories that most folks couldn't stomach long enough to read,  but they see no connection between scholastic success, and success in their lives as adult. Case in point: Asked the question, hat do you want to be when you finish high school?" to one of my Seniors (pause - I teach (9th grade Pre-Algebra and Algebra 1) - his very sincere answer, "Either like, a real estate agent, or an accountant." Others chimed in: "Lawyer," "Pediatrician," and other such occupations, because at some point, some adult in their lives told them, "you can be whatever you put your mind to," which is very true - but then the education system gives them the okie doke by convincing them that they don't have to work for it. Why would you?

Here's the part where I admit to having an above-average level of laziness. So if I figured out in 5th grade, that I was going to go to 6th whether I passed or not...I would have set my mind to "coast" and doodled all day. (Well, no I wouldn't have....because Mom and Pop would have taken a foot/belt/frying pan/extension cord to me until I did better...but that's another conversation).

We tell students they have to complete a task in one hour, and if they don't - we give themm two additional hours without penalty. We tell them that they have to make certain grades to pass on to the next grade; when they don't - we pass them anyway with no explanation. Students are passed through from exam to exam - grade to grade, perceiving that every standard set for them is a vague suggestion at best, at worst, a complete waste of air and energy, and so they believe that they can make failing grades in every course, every year of high school....and somehow still graduate on time, attend college, and obtain the advanced degrees necessary to move into high-powered careers.

The need for education reform is real. The need for education reformers who actually understand education is even more real.

Peace Be

Adventures in Change

So.

For those who haven't been keeping up: I've recently started teaching a new subject, to a new grade level, at a new school, gotten a new apartment - both in new cities, and am trying to navigate some new rules for an old relationship....hmmm...For those who have been keeping up...we know that I don't deal well with new.

This is where Chriss (and everyone else in my inner circle) will tell me that a line of medical defense would be extraordinarly helpful against this state of depression I've been choosing to "beat back" with cookie dough and sleep. But you don't have to know me well at all to know what my response to that looks like.

What does this mean?

Be on the look out for some really bad, really angsty poetry...or maybe some really hostile pseudo-political rants here in the near future. And if are one of the "chosen few" that edits my stuff for me (is it wrong to say groupies? Are you mad? You can call me your groupie too if it helps)....be on the lookout for something honest.

Speaking of poetry - guess who decided to take a year from Slam? This is not a throwback to the time I took off from writing (Do you remember that foolishness?) - this is a "it really isn't cute to disappear from your job to spend all of your money acting like you're 20 with a group of poets also pretending that they're 20." Next year, when I've built some cred with the boss and have *gasp* set aside some money for this kind of trip, I'll take my spot on the team back. Because that's not arrogant. I'll compete again, and hopefully be able to get a spot amongst the best that Piedmont's got to offer.

More to say, but I'm...tired of talking. So.

Peace Be

Adventures in Sulking

so.

today was the first day since "the incident" my first year, that i was legitimately concerned that i was going to lose my job. i spent much of the morning searching the faculty handbooks, looking through the civility policies, professional standards, the whole nine - trying to piece together a reasonable explanation for when i was called to the carpet this morning.

but the more i searched, the more i pieced....the less worried i became about the outcome of this meeting. i mean, i have said "i don't care" before - but i really did not care whether or not today was my last day inside of that school buidling. i tried to drum up some concern about the nothing that is in my bank account, and parlay that into some desire to fight for this job...but it would not happen.

and then i tried to garner the testicular fortitude to turn in my 30 days and peace out, but i couldn't do that either. i have sense enough to know that too much purposelessness in my days will be the thing that finally makes me jump off a bridge or something, and so i can't quit my job until i have some sort of direction. that, however, requires some knowledge of what it is i want to do with myself, and i don't have it. i couldn't even convince myself that i really wanted to pursue writing in any way that could stave off homelessness.

i'm 26. i'm unhappy. i'm lonley. i hate my job. and i have no goals.
the following comes to mind:

Peace Be

Adventures in Teaching

So.

The original intent of this post was going to be to vent about the newest batch of crap that comes along with being a classroom teacher...but just thinking about it in a way that makes the rant coherent enough to write about has exhausted me.

I am tired.

Peace Be

Adventures in Po-e-try

Here's a little ditty that sort of spilled onto the page a couple days ago:

26 years ago today, a child was born
in the same way
3 years from now, a stranger will die
down the block from the ribbon cutting of a brand new business
hours before the wedding bells chime
they will sound like angels welcoming home
the first baby to be aborted that day
there will be birthday cake
and wishing on stars
trips to the cemetery
then to the synagogue
shoulder of the highway to place fresh flowers near a cross
then on to a festival of light and music
to conjure a storm from the folly of time
we dance
the world over in celebration
of these moments no one else will consider sacred
but we hold them like candles
to commemorate a lifetime worthy of passing by
“happy anniversary,” we say
or “birthday”
“congratulations”
“i miss him still”
we offer hugs and handshakes
violent tears
to some presents
others presence
and silence
i wonder the stories
that could fill this room
about this day many years ago
about how it rocked us away from the person we always thought we would become
and slowly began molding us into the someone we are now
let’s mark this moment
as the one we realize everyone is guilty
of forcing memories quiet into the camouflage of their skin
as if this world were only hungry for the lie of happy endings
let us celebrate
the love and loss that crumbles us like mountains
take heart in knowing someone else is celebrating too
even if it looks like mourning
the world over with grieve with you

---

I don't have any real commentary on the piece, except to say that I like it - all obvious errors in form and content notwithstanding. Also as of yet there's no title...mainly because I suck at them. Our good friend Kholi has a version of this  piece that you should check out here, and then be sure to check out all the other iMagnificence that she's got happening over yonder.

Also - school is back in full swing, so be on the look out for my upbeat postings concerning the current state of education, examples of high-quality parenting, and bright future of our world...(is it too early for sarcasm?)

Peace Be

Adventures in Bio-Terrorism

So.

It's that time of year again.

The weather has cooled down a bit and the heat across the school has been cranked up. The boys are sweating more heavily in the gym....but they are not compensating with additional anti-perspirant. What they are doing...is trying to cover the smell with an additional layer of Axe body spray. One student in particular...is covering it with some God-forsaken Chocolate scent...which makes me want to jump off a roof.

Normally, I would counteract this winter aroma with my usual hygeine speech...but these days I'm so on edge about everything...that the thought of having to tell the children, again, how funky they can be...makes me really angry. Or worse, when I consider that some of them really don't have the kind of parents that care whether or not the children come to school smelling the way they do... I getreally sad.

Mm.

I need someone to donate 50 sticks of Secret and 50 of Old Spice for me to pass out to the children before gymn.

Peace Be

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Adventures in Journaling

*wrote this last night when I couldn't get to a computer, but I still thought I'd share....tried my best not to do any editing...*

It's 12:30 and I want a cigarette more than I want to breathe, which, is the decision I'd be making since the change in weather is aggravating my asthma. Staring at my Bible and Gradebook, wondering why God had to go and say that only fools give themselves to strong drink, and if my fourth period even cares that I haven't had one since my birthday.

I am a teacher now. And if that alone isn't enough to keep you awake at night consider this:
One of my students tells me that she has to quit Drama Club because she needs to be at home to take care of her son. Another asks me whether I think she should get an abortion, or keep the baby and drop out. Found out, the day after he gets expelled, one of my students is homeless. His best friend just got sent to a group home. I feel like searching the streets to tell them they've both pulled a C-...their highest grades since they started school here in 7th grade.

If this were a movie, now is when I'd buy a leather jacket and "get Emilio", but the problem here is not with respect. I am not the "Great White Hope" that they despise because of money or race...I'm just their teacher. And they've got better things to do. Like not starve.

I may have bitten off more adulthood than I can chew.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I know what the key to reaching them is. I try to remind myself what teachers said to me when I walked in high or crying...

I need some vices.
Some legitimate, guilty-pleasure stress relievers to throw myself desperately into. Because all I've got these days are coffee and chocolate...and I'm going to have to give up chocolate for the sake of that stupid dress my brother's making me wear in his wedding.

A smart person would long for healthy choices. Prayer. Meditation. More consistent journaling...but I'm sick of healthy choices. Because I've done the right thing. Been doing the right thing every day when I decide not to quit my job and run away. Every minute I decide not to pick up the phone and call the last person to break my heart. Every time I walk away from the comfort of a pain that is familiar, I'm doing the healthy thing...the healthy thing which has me stressed and lonely in a small town that I love, but wish I could get away from.

I miss my brothers. Want us to be 4, 13, and 16 again spending the day downtown buying Christmas presents for our folks. More than that, I miss my grandmothers. And great aunts. And Maurice. Which is strange, because I never miss them all at once like that...but it's after midnight and I think my subconscious is calling out to anyone that has ever made me feel better.

I need to sleep. Gotta be at my best for my kids in the morning.

Peace Be