Sticker Shock

In 2008 I began tooling around in a black Subaru Forester, a great and reliable little SUV. It replaced my gold colored Volvo XC-70 AWD wagon. I loved that car (until that pesky little oil leak arrived and decided to stay). My Volvo was truly mine-covered in stickers that represented places where I had fished, my love for dogs, and my devotion to one of my alma maters. But when I replaced the Volvo with the Subaru I decided it was time for my sticker worship to end, and so the only stickers to make the cut (so to speak) were my Michigan State Alumni Association sticker, and my US Luge sticker which I keep to honor my dear friend Jeff, a former slider and luge Olympic team coach. However, the whole 'no car stickers' thing was like a bad diet-you know it's going to end, and so it's really a matter of when and not if. I broke my vows with my Subaru when I decided to support Senator Obama over Senator Clinton, and I promptly found myself sporting an Obama '08 sticker on the back bumper of my previously pristine Forester. At the time I was convinced that showing my support through a little 'ol sticker for the man I was sure would be our next president was perfectly ok. He did, of course, become our president and today...today I took that Obama '08 sticker off the bumper of my car and today I stopped showing support for our president. You see I fully believe he has ceased to show any sort of support for me-as a member of the teaching profession anyway. Earlier today I read that in Los Angeles they are seriously considering publishing the full names of teachers who are deemed 'failures' based on their students' standardized test scores. Yes, full names of teachers-not the school's name. (Silly me-I thought Salem was just a tourist attraction these days!) President Obama's Secretary of Education Arne Duncan thinks this is a great idea. Now this is by no means the first comment from Secretary Duncan that made me see red for the entire day and I'm quite sure it won't be the last. But it's not Secretary Duncan I'm fed up with, I'm fed up with the man who chose him for that position. I'm sorry to say President Obama's rhetoric simply does not, in any way, match his actions. He says teachers are critically important. He says teachers are valued by him and his administration. He says he's working to reform education to make things better for students, teachers, and parents alike. He says quite a bit and does very little. He asked me and others to believe in him and his vision for change. I did believe in him, but apparently he can't bring himself to believe in me or the countless, tireless other teachers out there who also believed in him. Oh well, it was time for a clean bumper again anyway.

Keep an eye on summer

Sweltering heat and summer's song slipping away...all this wrapped up and tied with a bow courtesy of the month of August

Something happens to me on August 1. It happens to be my sister's birthday but that's not the reason I feel so strange when that date rolls around every year. There's usually at least three weeks before professional development takes place, and another week after that before students come back, and yet on August 1 I always feel a sense of excitement and dread at the same time. This year it's heightened and it's not because I haven't gotten out of bed before 9 a.m. in almost a year (which isn't true anyway)-it's more complicated than that I think. I admit I love the thought of teaching again-I missed it terribly this past year. So when I see commercials for the myriad of back to school sales that are going on right now, I can't help but crack a smile, and depending on the commercial I might outright laugh. Come on now-you can't help but be amused at Meijer's current ad that features kids who are happy to get school supplies, then the ad reminds you those same kids are paid actors and real kids will never be that happy to get school supplies. However this ad pales in comparison to my all-time favorite: a Staples commercial that features a mom singing the popular Christmas tune 'It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year' as she dances through the aisles at Staples, followed by her son and daughter looking incredibly miserable due to the thought of going back to school. Classic.

So there's definitely an amusing aspect about going back to school, and there is also the anticipation of the sounds of fall that I love which usually occur at football practices and band camp. But the dread persists. I'm not looking forward to failing at one thing or another, or disappointing some students and those things will happen-it's inevitable because teachers are human. (Oh the horror of that statment!) I'm also not someone who's big on changes-I've been through a lot over the past year, and I'm going back to what used to be stable in my life only to face more changes, including enduring the daily grind of work without friends who I love who have moved on with their life through retirement. The dread persists. The one good thing...it's only August 8. Keep your ears open for whining and moaning coming from my neighborhood right around August 29.
Howl on, howl on brothas and sistas.

The Warmth of the Sun

Has it really been a month? Unbelievable. If you are a music fan you will recognize the title of the post as a song by the Beach Boys. Of course, it's possible to be a music fan and not know many songs of the Beach Boys outside of California Girls and Fun, Fun, Fun but that would be a real shame. But I promise I won't pass judgment on you-at least not right now. The song The Warmth of the Sun is both depressing (the melody) and hopeful (the lyrics) at the same time. It was written by Brian Wilson and Mike Love the night President Kennedy was shot in 1963. I wasn't born then, but whenever my mom's brother played his Endless Summer album it was this song that I wanted to hear over and over again. It came to my head as I sat outside with my class this past Friday, all of us soaking up the sun. It was prom Friday, and at my school prom Friday means lots and lots of students are absent since they are busy with hair, nails, make up, massages, straight edged shaves, facials, etc. etc. So with the few students who showed up for my class, we ventured outside and enjoyed Michigan's first sunny, 70+degree spring day. While basking in the sun one of my students began engaging in conversation with me. This student, by the way, says absolutely nothing in class. Zip. Zilch. Nada. He had, before prom Friday, become a bit of an obsession for me since my class is so focused on dialogue and he has simply avoided all of it for the past six weeks. Six weeks. All I got was nice smiles, polite shakes of his head when I asked him if he had anything he wanted to add to the conversation, and silence. I don't like failing at anything and I felt like a failure with this young man. Every day his silence reminded me not to get too cocky because this teaching thing is NOT easy, and like golf, can never be mastered. But on beautiful prom Friday 2009, with the sun smiling down upon us, my student cracked the door a little bit and let me sneak my foot in. What did he finally say you ask? He talked about the fact that he really doesn't talk very much. Warm, sunny, spring days always feel good, but that day felt especially great. ..."for I have the warmth of the sun, it won't ever die." (Brian Wilson). Howl On.

Dogs are for petting and snuggling-Period!

In today's NY Times (Saturday, March 28) there's an article entitled Well-Regarded New Jersey High School to Use Drug-Sniffing Dogs. If you can grab this article and read it, I suggest you do. But I'm warning you: if you like your vision of high school romanticized and you like spending a good deal of time with your head buried in the sand, don't bother reading this. You will be depressed over a number of issues, and I don't want to feel somehow responsible for that. But if you're game, check it out and allow yourself to really get angry. I'm angry. And I'm sad. What could possibly be running through the head of a principal who wants to bring in drug sniffing dogs to roam the hallways of his school? Is anyone really that delusional to think the presence of these dogs is going to stop the students from selling or doing drugs? Hey, I experienced a drug bust when I was a wee freshman at Flint Christian High School. Yes, the place where a Bible class was mandatory every year of your life had students who took and dealt drugs. Go figure. Of course, now that I'm an adult and a teacher, I understand the serious need/desire/down-right hunger to want to control all situations. But I also know, as most thinking adults do, that type of control simply isn't possible. So what to do-let kids run around the hallways doing whatever they please? No, of course not. Each community is different and this high school in New Jersey (a high achieving one too-don't go thinking it's an "urban" school with "urban" problems) needs to assess this situation hearing all voices that are impacted-faculty, staff, students, administrators, parents, all of them. From that point, they need to figure out a way to take action, making sure the proposed action honors as many of those aforementioned voices as possible, and that it offers viable solutions to the problem at hand. And I cannot fathom there's a possiblity one of those solutions involves drug-sniffing dogs. Mr. Miron, the principal at Millburn High, is quoted as saying " we have a very relaxed atmosphere here." "But we feel like this is the final step that we can do to say that we're doing our part." Mr. Miron, first, if this atmosphere represents relaxed for you I'd hate to visit your house, I mean Alcatraz. Second, you are doing your part by being an educator-stop trying to be a police officer and then an educator. Confront this controversy-teach this controversy-solve this controversy. Then please do us all a favor and go pet a dog or something. Howl On my friends...Howl On. A special howl to Gabrielle M. who is a treat to have in my Non-fiction American Literature class!

What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

I've finally decided what I want to be when I grow up. Oh, there are plenty of reasons to chuckle at what I just wrote. There are those chuckling at the fact that I am vertically challenged, and therefore maybe doomed to never grow up. There are those who know me well enough to know my 12-year-old boy sense of humor requires I never actually grow up. And finally there are those that just know most of the maturation process has eluded me... they know this because they've either played video games with me or golfed with me. But I sit here tonight in front of my laptop and I am declaring I am finally going to be a mature adult, and I am going to get a new job. My new job will be with AIG. Why, you may ask, would I want to give up my current career for a job with a company that seems like it's gasping for its last breath? Because there's no accountability required of their employees! Hooray for no accountability! You see, in my current profession of teaching, I can't tell you how many times I hear about how teachers need to be accountable. Accountable for what you're asking? Why our failures of course. The failures of students who would prefer to be sleeping instead of in school. The failures of students who would prefer to be talking with their buddies instead of writing papers. The failures of students who can't read or write at grade level, even when they are only in 2nd grade. The failures of students who are apathetic about everything except what parties to attend over the weekend, and what new ring tone they are planning on purchasing. The failures of students who have no use for me...so they relegate me to the margins of their lives. I am supposed to be accountable for those students. But AIG employees? Not only are they not held accountable for being a major part of our nation's financial meltdown, last week they collected bonuses! Bonuses!! So I'm wondering about that merit pay everyone is so excited about giving teachers... will that be for students who actually pass standardized tests or fail them? I think I know the answer to that question, and that's why I have to dust off my resume to send to AIG, ASAP. Howl On. And a special Howl On and shout out to one of my students who is nothing like the ones described above, David F.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

I'm sure this won't be the last time I chat about an incident in my classroom, although I won't use real names because we are dealing with minors here and there has to be some legal issue about all of that. Anyway, last Friday in my non-fiction American Literature class we read this essay entitled I Was Smart. It's an essay I got from a faculty meeting actually and it prompted some pretty good discussion (Dr. Jay Marks was the special speaker in the faculty meeting that day and I would highly recommend his consulting services). Ok-background knowledge. My class has a central theme of education in the 21st century. We have one core book (And Still We Rise by Miles Corwin) and readings, documentaries, and films that surround that text and fit within the individual units of the course. The essay I used last Friday told the story of an African-American male student who started out in trouble during first grade, got a teacher who supported him in 2nd-8th grade (and he felt really smart) then switched schools to a more non-diverse, affluent environment where teachers didn't seem to think he was smart. His grades fell, and even though he did graduate he didn't pursue a college degree. So in my class (both sections, one with 20 kids, the other with 29, all juniors and seniors) we tried to define smart. Prior to reading this essay I asked them if anyone had ever told them they were smart-almost every hand went up. Then I asked the kicker question-did they feel they were smart. No hands went up in one section, maybe 1 or 2 in the other section. So I had 47 students that basically told me they weren't smart. Several days later I still don't know what to make of this. When pressed it got down to tests-one student told me the math section of the ACT (that he had just taken the week before) made him feel pretty doggone stupid. Now I never thought of myself as a misunderstood genius or anything, but I never, ever, felt like any test or grade defined me. Maybe part of that was because I didn't come close to working as hard as I could have in high school or in my undergraduate studies (even though I had the best of the best English teachers in Jenny Colberg, who I know sometimes reads this blog!) :-) Whatever the reason, the person I was then is the person I am now-and that girl will never, ever let an external force dictate how she feels about herself. So that being said, what's going to happen to my students who will all head off to some school either next year or the year after, feeling like they aren't smart? What kind of citizens will they be? What kind of parents, aunts and uncles will they end up being? Think we should revisit this whole testing craze? Does a bear poop in the woods? In case you're wondering, the answer to those last two questions is yes. Howl On.

In Charlie Brown words..."ARGH!!!!!!!!!"

So it's Wednesday and it's been...one of those weeks. I know-the week isn't done, so that should tell you something right there. This day happened to be a busy day on top of the lousy week-start of the new trimester, blah, blah, blah. At 7:00 p.m. I was in the midst of my down time (I'm allergic to beer so it can never be Miller time, but you get the picture). On the radio was NPR's program Tell Me More, hosted by Michele Martin. Ms. Martin's first half hour was a response to President Obama's recent speech on the state of public education where he highlighted some of his proposals, which included the always controversial suggestion for teacher merit pay. Ms. Martin's program featured Washington DC Chancellor Michelle Rhee, a Washington Post education policy writer, and a University of Texas professor of education who were all so politically motivated I felt like I was at a Republican rally before the beat down given to them by the Democrats in 2006 and 2008. So Ms. Martin introduced Chancellor Rhee as someone who is "in the trenches." Really? Seriously? This woman has a driver, an office, a staff, sees students when she wants to see students, and is completely in charge of her daily schedule. Me? I'm a teacher-my day starts at 7:30 (I drive myself to work in case you're wondering), I have one hour of "prep" time, I time my bathroom visits carefully because I have to, I see about 110 students per day, I end my day at 2:45, and I bring work home on most nights. I AM IN THE TRENCHES. It would be different if people like the NPR host would at least acknowledge the fact that the folks on her program are not representative of the professionals in the field of K-12 education, but that's never the case. Deference is always given to those folks who chose not to be teachers-to get out and pursue loftier administrative goals after 2, 3, maybe 5 years of teaching- tops. I'm not bitter-I love what I do. But I am angry at those folks-the ones who don't teach and would have a hard time defining what that word means- because they are the ones who are working hard to take away my tenure, my academic freedom, my middle-class existence, and my status as a professional. Oh, they talk about the professionalization of teachers-in Orwellian language. I'm truly scared of what the future of education looks like-the Washington Post journalist called Rhee and the guys in charge of non-profits like KIPP the new "brat pack" of education. He claimed Obama was speaking directly to them and encouraging them to keep up the great work. Forgive me, but I am a child of the 80's-meaning I've already lived through one brat pack consisting of Emilio Estevez, Rob Lowe and Judd Nelson and from what I remember that time in history isn't really pretty. Howl On.