EOY

End of Year.

For teachers June is long awaited for so many reasons:
No more pencils, no more books,
No more people’s goofy looks like
Pants on the ground, painted hair, or
Parents who look like “Hootchie mamas”that swear.
Colleagues who let their students rome around and
A box overflowing with the lost and found.
Zero Tolerance, Bullying what is that?
Baby showers, parties that make us so fat.
FCAT, PTSA, BTU, SAC, and NESS
Just chalk up another year at LCMS.
THANK GOD IT’S OVER.

Can I Vent?

Now that summer vacation is here, can I vent?

What is the message a parent sends to their child when at the end of the year they give a very nice gift to the teacher whose class their child earned an “A”? Notice I said “earned” teachers do not give grades. It happens every year, there are times when I am the recipient, and there are times I am not. It is so wrong. They often include a little note that requires you “read between the lines” it may as well say: "Ms. So & So is a bitch... make sure you show her your gift."

Times are tough and if you spent on each teacher it can be costly. Why can’t parents teach the value of a thank you? Some of the treasures I keep are the heartfelt notes telling me about an animated dinner conversation where their child gave the family a history lesson on the Persian Wars or What if Spain's Armada was victorious?

I have come to the conclusion everything that is wrong with our profession comes down to one thing RESPECT or lack of respect in some cases.

It is not just the parents lack of respect either. I was at the mailboxes at school when a veteran teacher pulled out a paper with next year’s assignment. In one fell swoop she found out she is teaching another grade level, on another team and her room was changing. I have seen it happen over and over again. Administrators look at scores, and then move teachers around like they are playing checkers. Often the teachers with the best scores or strongest discipline get screwed because “someone” thinks they can fix anything. The first time I was selected Teacher of the Year twenty some years ago, the next year I was teaching the “At risk” students that we lovingly referred to as “sweat-hogs” or “rocket scientists” in those days.

When a teacher is not happy with their subject, grade level, team then they do the minimum. They no longer come in early or leave late. Extra work planning field trips, extra hours putting together shows... why should they? Work is not fun anymore. The morale can make or break a school.

Thank God for the new blood, the untainted who carry on and put together our shows, our luncheons, our bridal and baby showers. We love you. We remember who you are, we used to be you.

The Countdown Begins

Each year standardized tests are earlier and earlier. Sadly, as soon as the students take the test, they check out... literally. Teachers, club advisors, school guidance all have mandates with little time left to do everything so the school calendar is overloaded with a little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing.

Consequently, we have money being collected for Field trips, Relay for Life, Cystic Fibrosis, Pennies for Who knows what? There are Field Trips; Take Your Kid to Work Day, Everglade Slogging, Museum Day, Talent Show rehearsals, Fifth grade articulation, Band Spring concerts, Micro Day, Spring Bling and the list goes on and on and on... I am exhausted thinking about everything.

My frustration lies in the fact that while reading, science, math may have a break after the FCAT, social studies does not. In sixth grade we are mandated to teach from Paleolithic Man to World War II in the same amount of time that we used to teach up to Renaissance. We have Black History, Women in History, Florida History, Hispanic History, Holocaust Awareness all infused within our curriculum. To make matters worse we have shorter class periods than the rest of the county; yet we have to cover the same amount of material.

How does this play out? Simply put, the kids suffer. The only way a teacher can keep the pace is to assign reading pages for homework or more written work. Parents complain we are too tough on our students; kids need a life.

Lyons Creek needs to look at the Micro Society component. It is not working the way it was conceptualized. Our postal system, banking, courts, and police ... nothing is working. It actually was the best the first year when the kids used computers to order from micro stores and goods were delivered. It is time to throw in the towel. If we don’t operate real world then we need to void out of the program. As much as I love my puppets, I am throwing in the towel for a six period day and five more minutes per class, thirty plus minutes per week.

Can’t Get Silk Out of a Sow’s Ear

Every year at spring test time, this phrase pops in my head. It is because they (bureaucracy) put so much pressure on teachers to bring up test scores.

In some countries the children have aptitude tests and they are guided through middle and high school on the track that suits them. We can’t all be rocket scientist. If the student would be better suited as a mechanic or whatever they are encouraged to be the best they can be and sent to specific schools for each track.

I know this is America and everyone has access to an education and the possibility to go to a university, but really should every student in high school be expected to pass Algebra or for that matter the over 200 Special Education children that may attend a school make progress on an FCAT test or else the teacher’s fail.

We are talking about children who often have IQ’s well below 70 with physical and mental problems that make it a challenge just to get out of bed in the morning, let alone get on a bus with many middle school kids who can be downright abusive at times.

We should celebrate each day a special child survives a day at a public school. What an astronomical step these children take, facing the real world challenges navigating through a system where not everyone is kind.  They DO make progress each and everyday they come to school, it is just not percentage points on a test data sheet. The teachers are a success every day just by the fact each child wants to come to their classroom.

The test scores are reflected in what is referred to as AYP or adequate yearly progress along with everyone else. If your school does not make AYP then it won’t be long before they are tagged “F” or Title 1, Title 2 or "Superintendents" school.

Our school (where I currently work) services more special education students ( over 200) then a whole county center. I applaud our teachers. I admire their smiles and determination and willingness to hang in there each day.  I especially cheer the extra curriculum teachers like P.E, Music, and Art who have the students mainstreamed in overcrowded classroom. They all have such patience. Most important, I applaud the special education students.

But here is the kicker for you. I don’t believe in mainstreaming. I believe it does the kids so much more harm being exposed to jeers and tears of the already tough middle school years.

I speak from experience. My nephew went to a special school until he was 22 years old. He was safe, had friends, school functions, proms, field trips and the like. My sister had a break each day when his bus picked him up early to take him on a long drive to a private school. He had the same bus driver for almost twenty years. I am thankful my sister fought the system and won. Public tax dollars had to pay for his private education and transportation. His tuition, transportation etc was cheaper than setting up an appropriate class to meet his needs and paying teacher's salary back in the 1970's. Now laws have changed and every school system must accommodate with special needs so they don't have to fork out for private school. The private institution however was Robert's family, his home away from home, his safe place.

Later, My nephew transitioned into a group home environment where he lives today. He is 46 years old. Yes, he lives on SSI government money but he does work with the others from his group home cleaning office buildings. He saves up his money and goes on vacations each year and did not become a burden to his parents. I often think of him when I walk down our halls. He could have never survived here. At least he didn’t have to worry about taking a test every spring.

Test Prep

Today, on my morning commute I was behind a creeper. I immediately thought maybe it was an elderly snowbird crawling along.  Recently, I seem to be prejudice against older folks. To my surprise and amazement, when I passed the vehicle I could not believe my eyes. The driver was READING. It looked like he was studying for a test.

Now I have seen people on cell phones, with earphones, shaving and reading maps but this was different. We were not in a traffic jam. The traffic was flowing ...moving except for the middle lane where the offender was driving along. What could be so important that you risk your life and the lives of other people? Back in the day, I would have honked and made a face but in South Florida someone might pull a gun out and shoot you.

Sadly, you will probably fail your test because anyone as stupid as you could not pass. I am sure you waited until the last minute to study and procrastinated and now you are cramming. A very bad habit, that I am sure started back in the sixth grade.

STEPFORD TEACHERS

Maybe it is because I am a non-conformist, or maybe it is because the nuns stifled my creativity in catholic school for so many years, but some mandates make me want to SCREAM. It is the little things I am sure that send us over the edge.

For the most part I embrace change, I learned how to use technology in the classroom. I learned how to do my plans on the computer and email them to the administration. I learned how to document on the computer, do referrals, use my text – book etc at mandated workshops. These were all positive things and this old dog was proud of herself when I mastered some programs like I photo, Inspiration, Comic Life and I know my students reap the rewards.

However, at present it is not enough we wear the same shirts, must follow the same lessons, same scope, same focus calendar but now we are suppose to use the exact vocabulary on the board.

For twenty-five years I have put a Reason to Read or RR on the board. I train the children what it means. Now, I must call it an ESSENTIAL QUESTION

My in-class plan is now called the AGENDA

My section formerly called class work now says OBJECTIVE

My Quiet time is now WARM UP

Thank goodness something stayed the same homework is still freakin’ homework.

Today, I PAINTED these words on the white board. I refuse to use their cards.

Just Who are They????

OK, so "THEY" were suppose to come into our classrooms and check out if we are all following the "calendar", are we all on same page, doing the same thing!!!! "They" were across the hall so I was not surprised when a young man came into my class observed for a whole period... I thought my lesson sucked, my desk was cluttered with papers and he was looking at my sub folder not my plan book. I was a wreck. I showed the "MAN" my AYP info and he said I don't know what an AYP is ???? I thought it was a trick. Then it clicked, he was not one of "them" he was a student teacher doing an observation that I forgot was coming in to my classroom. I can't take this.

The Way We Were

Each year teaching gets harder. We are inundated with mandates, paperwork, meetings and conferences. When you have been around as long as some of us you cannot help but remember the way we were.

My first year of teaching, I remember the excitement when they gave me my KEY to the school, not the classroom the school.

Each day there would be a student waiting to come inside and help me ready up the room. That doesn’t happen at today’s school because there are training meetings every morning and also, having children in a room alone with you is discouraged.

We decided to be teachers for the relationship time with the children. Those early morning sessions went a long way. The most treasured job in my class was “Mr. Coffee” this student set up my coffee pot for me. I always picked the most active child for this responsibility. The A.M. chats were so revealing and nurturing for my at risk students. (Think Maslow)

Coffee pots, microwaves, little refrigerators are all fire hazards and definitely not allowed. In my many years of teaching, my room has been sited by fire department no less than a dozen times. My infractions…. posters on walls, mobiles hanging closer than 18 inches from ceiling, boxes on top of my cabinets, paints opened, extention cords, my favorite was I had a small wooden crate to hold library books and was told it might bring termites.

If a child had a birthday mom would send in cupcakes. This is a big NO NO now because everything must be store bought. So sadly, there are no more cultural cover dish experiences either.

We used to have spontaneous reward picnic lunches at the outside tables. New rule, the children cannot take their lunch tray out of the cafeteria and if you want to take your children out for a picnic, fill out project activity forms two weeks prior.

The student's classes start at 9:30 and their day ends at 4:00. By the time they arrive home it is dinner. Then they have baseball, karate, and a religion class, dance and the list goes on and on.

Parents response: "How dare we give required homework reading? They have no time to be children." Well, long ago there were 57 minutes per period (currently 45 minutes), we could teach at the pace best for the children and we did not lose 5 weeks of learning for pre testing and testing and still have to finish an entire text book.

On a positive note, I like whiteboards instead of chalk dust, copy machines instead of the ditto machine with the smell and purple ink. (It destroyed many a wardrobe). Gone are the 8mm film loops, tangled reels, and filmstrips. They gave way to television, CD’s, DVD’s and computers… all wonderful. Most of all, Google is now my very best friend.

Lastly, there are some guidelines I refuse to follow. I will hug my kids when they need a hug, or for that matter, wipe a tear (even without a plastic glove).