Life at the Morton School

A Thankless Job?

2010-11-30T00:00:00.000-08:00

So Cathie Black, to no one's surprise, has been granted the necessary waiver to serve as Chancellor. I stand by my position that I'm attempting to reserve judgment until she actually does something, but in the meantime, I'm going to continue to speculate about the situation, since it's all anyone is talking about anyway. Who wants to think about anything else with eighteen long school days remaining until the holiday break?

Like many people, I wonder, still, why Black wants this job. No one, herself included, is pretending that she has some kind of lifelong passion for education of any kind, public or otherwise. The public disapproves of the appointment, with many believing she's being brought on primarily to "right-size" the DOE. The highest echelons of state education administration have expressed serious reservations about her ability to do the job, such that they have insisted that she take on a specific deputy, Shael Polakow-Suransky, to serve as a Chief Academic Officer.

I think, if Ms. Black was a teacher, those around her would quietly begin to discuss the "counseling out" process. A lot of teachers don't make it, a fact that's well-known and silly not to talk about. The job is not right for everyone. That's not an admission of general incompetence, lack of intelligence, or lack of compassion; it's a simple statement of fact that not everyone makes it because it is not the right fit for everyone, even those who are well-qualified on paper or even lovely people with many lovely qualities in real life. It just doesn't work for everyone. Nothing you can do.

At this point, is this job a good fit for Ms. Black? Given a host of other choices, anyone from Michelle Rhee to Jesus Christ or anyone in between, would anyone who is not Mayor Bloomberg or one of his sycophants actually choose her, on purpose? And what is she going to get accomplished with this serious lack of support?

If I were Ms. Black, I would have graciously stepped aside weeks ago, saying that, after careful reconsideration, I found the job to not be a good fit and would have offered my support to a different candidate. Ms. Black could still do that, pointing to the excellent (or at least better) qualifications of Mr. Polakow-Suransky and expressing confidence in his ability to take on the job solo.

Why does she want this thankless job at this point? Seriously. I'm wondering.

There Are 19 School Days Until the Holiday Break

2010-11-28T11:53:00.000-08:00

FYI.

Hope you all enjoyed the all-too-short Thanksgiving break. I know I could have used one more day.

Miss Eyre Gets Schooled on Reality Television

2010-11-10T19:35:00.000-08:00

STUDENT 1: "Miss Eyre, this girl Violet acts like she is on Bad Girls' Club."

ME: "Bad Girls' Club?"

STUDENT 2: "Aw yeah! Like that one where the one is all up in other's face and they were like dragging each other around by the hair?"

STUDENT 1: "Ohhhh yeah."

ME: "I'm sorry, is this a reality show or something?"

STUDENT 1: "Oh, Miss Eyre, you never saw Bad Girls' Club?"

ME "Um, no."

STUDENT 2: "You HAVE to! It would, like, help you understand Violet."

STUDENT 1: "These girls have, like, issues. And they're all angry and stuff and have all these fights and they have to live in a house together."

STUDENT 2: "I would not want to live with Violet."

Cleavage

2010-11-05T14:34:00.001-07:00

STUDENT #1: Damn, girl, pull up your camisole! Don't nobody need to see all that!

STUDENT #2: Aight, I got you! Jeez! **pulls up camisole**

STUDENT #1: Look at Miss Eyre! She can wear a tank top without showing all that business! You can too!

The Best of Days, the Worst of Days

2010-10-26T16:03:00.000-07:00

Did I have a great day or a terrible day? It's after 7 p.m. and I'm still wondering. Let's look at the evidence from the text:

One of my advisees got into a truly dirrrrty girl fight today, and because I happened to be in the hallway, I got to babysit the girl she fought while waiting for a dean to pick her up because the two girls needed to be separated (obviously).
Two kids openly complained about their grades.
My lesson totally fell flat.

On the other hand:

One of the kids who complained about his grade actually came back after school and had a heart-to-heart with me about how he could do better.
The girl I babysat was in tears and I might have actually gotten her to calm down before she gave her statement.
Another student came by after school to help me organize my classroom library, and along with a couple of her friends, we ended up having a really nice chat. She even told me that I was her favorite teacher so far this year.

So: great day or horrible day?

Is it corny if I say that I secretly think it was great?

No Sports for You

2010-10-24T15:26:00.001-07:00

Really? Yes, really. The principal of Martin Van Buren High School is trying to drive sports out of the school. Rather than share a reaction that ought to be obvious, I'm going to share a rebutting anecdote instead.

I have a student this year, "Jonathan," who seems so far to be a bright and good-hearted kid. But he has issues, for sure--anger issues, home issues, friend issues. He's in counseling already, thanks to a quick and concerned counselor at my school who jumped right in when I alerted her to Jonathan's problems. I checked in with her the other day about Jonathan's progress.

"His attendance is better, right?" she asked.

"It is," I said. "He's been in school every day, and he's been late less."

"Good," she said, nodding. "He wants to go out for baseball and there's batting practice after school every day, so he's getting here. That should help."

Sports are important to Jonathan, important enough that he'll overcome his aversion to school to play baseball. And if we can get him there for baseball, the academics will begin to sink in, at least somewhat. And then Jonathan will have options other than baseball, too.

Sure, it doesn't work that way for every kid. But it works for an awful lot. Because student athletes have to get through a physical, pass every subject, and be present on game days, you're also promoting health, scholarship (at least a minimal standard), and attendance. Maybe Ms. Shevell will save a few bucks, or get a few distracted athletes graduated because of her new policy. But I wonder if she won't also see a drop in attendance and a bigger drop in graduation rates as kids who were drawn in by sports find one less reason to show up every day.

Let Me Get Right on That

2010-10-22T14:57:00.000-07:00

Like many of us, I am working on finalizing grades for the first round of report cards. (ALREADY? ALREADY. I know. I can't believe it.) On the last day of the marking period, I was on my way back to my classroom after a visit to the supply closet a little while after the end of the last class of the day.

"Miss Eyre," I heard a voice call. It was one of my students, "Lee."

"Hi, Lee," I said. "What's up?"

"Um, you got any extra credit I could do to bring my grade up?"

"You're kidding, right?" I said, incredulously.

"No. I want to bring my grade up."

"Lee," I said, "I had two make-up periods earlier this week. The days and times were posted on the board all week. I didn't see you at either of them."

"Well," he said, "I was failing science."

"Then you made your choice, right?" I asked.

"But I want to bring my grade up," he protested.

I made the outlandish suggestion that he should do more homework and studying and come to see me before 4:00 p.m. on the last day of the marking period next time.

He walked off in a huff.

Seriously?

The Blog World Loves Miss Eyre, Or Maybe They Just Love Commas

2010-10-01T16:55:00.000-07:00

Core Knowledge loves commas!

Education Week wants to make sure I've gotten the whole message.

And Joanne Jacobs's readers worry about copyright violation.

NYC Educator tells me that all the linking love has earned us some extra traffic. Always a nice thing. Thanks for the love! The commas thank you too.

Coverages: Not So Bad?

2010-10-01T15:02:00.000-07:00

Coverages are usually an excellent way to muck up a teacher's day. Take away one of those precious preps and toss a teacher into a random classroom, where s/he does not necessarily know the subject, the students, or both, and it's a recipe for disaster much of the time.

But not today.

I got my first coverage at TMS2 today, with lots of big scary older kids and not the precious youngsters in whom I have already cultivated a very gentle and friendly sort of fear. The previous period's students were having a paper-ball fight while the coverage teacher was doing something on her laptop. I had a raging headache and did not plan on dealing with a paper-ball fight with a fresh class the following period.

So as the new bunch came in, I let them talk, and as those of us who teach teenagers know, "talk" really means "yell, and do that incessantly." I let them talk and talk and talk while they furtively glanced at me, clipboard with roll sheets in hand, and at the Do Now bravely posted on the board.

I just looked at them. For what seemed like forever.

Then they got a little nervous. Finally, one boy spoke up: "Yo, shut up, she's waiting."

"Is that," I asked them, "how you enter the room every day?"

They looked at each other. "No," a few muttered.

"Then why on Earth," I asked them, "would you do it today?"

"Sorry," a few more mumbled.

I smh'ed at them, tempted to make some grandmotherly mmm-mmm-mmm noise while I did so, but thought that might be taking it too far. I took roll and duly noted the ditchers and the girl who came in late. "Okay," I said. "I'm Miss Eyre. I teach English down the hall. I don't know you, but I'll try to learn your names. Your teacher left you this assignment. If you can complete it in your seats and keep any conversation you have at a low volume with school-appropriate language, that works for me."

"Aw, miss, that's not gonna work," complained one boy. "I can't be silent all period."

"Yo, she said we could talk, duh," said another boy, pretending to slap at his friend.

"That's right," I said. "Low volume, clean language. That's all I ask."

"Oh," said the first boy. "Aight, miss. I got you. I'mma do this work. This looks okay."

Whatever I did with those kids, it worked. Every kid did the work (with varying degrees of success, I'll grant, but at least they tried). They kept the volume low and even let the room fall silent a couple of times. When a few kids started tapping out a beat on the table and rapping over it, I suggested that they wait until the end of the period, and, if they could, I'd let them knock off two minutes early and demonstrate their beats again for me. To my amazement, they agreed and got back to work. (And, okay, I had to hear their beat in the end, but I braved the banging through my headache and tried to enjoy it.) I did learn most of their names. We got through the coverage without any stress. I even did a bit of planning while they worked. And now I have a few new kids to say "Good morning" to in the halls.

Humility Lessons

2010-09-16T16:54:00.000-07:00

BRILLIANT and beautiful piece at GothamSchools about building respect and collegiality among generations of teachers. You must read this.

School Aides Rock My World

2010-09-15T20:10:00.000-07:00

What is it about school aides that makes them so awesome? I don't know. Just like teachers, these folks do NOT get paid enough for the fantastic and essential work they do. And they work hard. On those crazy days where it's 2:00 and you haven't eaten lunch yet, your school's aides probably haven't either.

The school aides at TMS1 were always bright spots of sanity, efficacy, and humor in a school that is, from what I'm hearing from my former colleagues, continuing to career off the rails. And the school aides at TMS2? You ain't seen nothing yet is my general impression of these people. My early favorite is one who consoled an angry parent over the phone about a MetroCard issue--effectively, from the sound of things--while giving a lost student directions and filling out paperwork for me to get some new tech equipment. This lady is good.

Just had to say that today,.

Proud Papa of a Ferret

2010-09-14T16:50:00.000-07:00

So I alluded to this kid in my post at NYC Educator today. He's so awesome that he definitely deserves his own post. So here it is, my first kid story of the 2010-11 school year. (Please note that, if you're new here, all kid stories are posted with names and identifying details changed to protect the child's privacy, and that I do not in this post or any other identify my school or even my borough. Kthx.)

Will is one of my English students at TMS2. He sits in the back because he was a late addition to the roster and that was all the room I had left when he came in. But he's quickly made himself into a rising star in the class.

"Miss Eyre," he greeted me on Monday, "how was your weekend?"

"Great, Will," I said. "How was yours?"

"It was rough, to be honest," he said, shaking his head. "My ferret got into all my stuff 'cause my brother left her out and then didn't, like, supervise her, you know? That's what ferrets be doin'. They get into stuff if you don't watch them."

I was somewhat taken aback by this tale--it's just not what you expect to hear from your typical high school boy, absorbed as he so often is by girls, sleep, and sports. But I tried to play it cool. "How much damage?" I asked.

"Aw, no real damage," he said. "Some papers torn up and stuff. Nothing major."

"Does she do this a lot?"

"Naw, not usually! When you watch her she's real good and cute and stuff. But you leave her alone, you know, she's just like a kid. Does crazy stuff."

Will's first writing piece is also about the ferret. I haven't read it yet, only looked over his shoulder while he was writing it. But, as you can imagine, I'm looking forward to it.

Oof! (Welcome Back)

2010-09-08T17:18:00.000-07:00

My calves, my eyes, my back...everything in my body is like, "Oof! So this is what it feels like to do a full day's work!" Yeah, we're all back for real now. Kiddies were in today. Rules were explained, icebreakers were endured, bulletin boards were covered, room-sharing arrangements were (or probably are still being) ironed out. One down, 180 to go.

My first day was pretty good. My classes seem really nice. Of course, I've already pinpointed a few darlings who should NOT sit together, but overall, the kiddies (and the adults) were on their respective best behaviors. My room looks nice.

That's about all I have to say because I'm EXHAUSTED. But I'll have more to say soon.

BTW: My posting schedule at NYC Educator is back to Tuesdays and Thursdays for the fall starting Tuesday, September 14.

The Night Before the Night Before the First Day of School

2010-09-06T19:13:00.002-07:00

Whew, and welcome back! Did we all have a nice summer? Yes? Good. Mine was all right. To be honest, it kind of went downhill in August. I can't deal with the heat and The Morton School v.2.0 (to be referred to hereafter as TMS2) didn't send me my curriculum materials until, uh, a couple of days ago (yes, despite repeated badgering), so Miss Eyre got good and bored. I admit it. I read twentysome books and watched a LOT of movies and went to a couple of museums and such. But most days it was too hot for me to feel going outside. So, anyway, the point is:

I am glad summer is over.

Yes, you read that right. I am glad summer is over. Glad, glad, glad. I want to go back to work. I'm itching to get to know my new students and colleagues. I'm exciting about trying the new things I was afraid to try at TMS1. I am not even dreading tomorrow's day full of meetings because I really need to know how my new school works. I confessed earlier today that so far TMS2 seems a little too good to be true. The colleagues and administrators I've met so far just seem too pleasant, reasonable, and helpful. The way things are done seems a little too self-explanatory and trusting of teachers. This is the DOE. I know this is far too much to expect.

So I'm going into tomorrow with very low expectations, but into Wednesday with only the highest. I'm already just about ready to go for Wednesday.

And if you're not totally annoyed with me by now and you've kept reading up to this point, good luck this week!

Back-to-School Shopping and Reading

2010-08-18T07:51:00.001-07:00

Hello friends,

Just another quick post to keep things at least slightly alive here before school starts! Hope everyone is enjoying summer vacation. Even if you have a fairly elaborate classroom setup with which to contend, you should still have two more good weeks of relaxing remaining. Max it out.

Since I'm apparently a masochist who is ever-so-slightly looking forward to returning to school, I'll blog a bit about my preparations so far. I've hit Staples twice. I bought a case of paper ($25 or so with an Easy Rebate; good deal!) because you never know when that will come in handy. The former Morton School's schizoid copy "policy" last year found me able to get some copies made sometimes in the main office, but more often than not I was on my own. By being judicious about when I really needed something copied, printing on both sides of the paper, reusing scrap paper, and shamelessly soliciting paper donations from students, I was able to make my case of paper last all year. I also bought some five-cent pocket folders, one-cent notebook paper, #2 pencils, and dry-erase markers. These are the kinds of things your school should supply, but we all know that that does not always happen. Those are some good basics to get you started.

I've also bought a few new teacher books, all of which are good reading. I blogged about Kelly Gallagher's work again at NYC Educator this morning, and I'm happy to report that his two books that I've now read are both well worth your dollars and your time. Readicide: How Schools Are Killing Reading and What You Can Do About It is a marvelous companion to Thomas Newkirk's Holding on to Good Ideas in a Time of Bad Ones, another book I've heartily recommended to ELA teachers. And Gallagher's Reading Reasons is a wonderful collection of solid, easy-to-follow minilessons about both academic and real-world literacy, many of which I can easily imagine real students and teachers actually enjoying. This is empowering and sensible reading for ELA teachers.

Another book I picked up is Three Minute Motivators by Kathy Paterson. Although you might have been taught in ed school that your motivator comes at the beginning of your lesson, many of Paterson's motivators are useful as transitioning, refocusing, and closing activities. Some are longer than three minutes and would work well as review games and contests. Some of the activities are more geared to the elementary crowd, but as a middle school teacher transitioning to high school, quite a few of them seem like they would work for all ages.

Feel free to share your own recommendations in the comments.

Who Wants to Think about Test Scores?

2010-07-28T19:05:00.000-07:00

Not me. We're just about halfway through summer vacation and school is still pretty far from my mind. But it was hard to miss the "release" of the test scores today. I say "release" because it's hard, if not impossible, for us teachers to get any meaningful information. The best y'all can do, as far as I can tell, is this document from the state education department that does break scores down as far as grade, district, and building.

I'm pretty sure everyone's numbers went down, but my individual numbers still look pretty darn good, at least comparatively speaking; my students' scores are well above the district average and are among the highest in my district. That's never bad news. I just wish I could see specifics so I know how individual kids did. The specific scores will be up on ARIS the second week of August, allegedly, but everything needs to be downloaded from ARIS by the 20th of August because it all needs to be reloaded for next year. That's tight.

I'd like to know why the scores couldn't be released to teachers today. ARIS cost $70 million, right? Are you going to tell me it still takes 2 weeks to get everything loaded? Human data entry people could probably get it done in less than 2 weeks.

Summer Vacaaaaaaaaaaaaaation

2010-06-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

I haz it.

More reflective post on the end of the school year forthcoming.

Down to one day a week at NYC Educator for the summer until the school year gears up again.

HAVE FUN

On the Foolishness of Certain Memos

2010-06-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

The teachers at the Morton School recently received a memo admonishing us to wait until the last 2-3 days of school to dismantle classroom libraries, take down bulletin boards, and the like. I appreciate the spirit of this memo, but in practice find it absolutely impracticable.

Those of us teaching with classroom libraries constituting several hundred volumes have a daunting task: sorting and storing books for the new school year. If your school, like mine, is used for summer school, all of these materials must be secured so that they aren't "borrowed" during the summer. If you don't want to spend September in any more pain than you have to, you want to assure that things are put away with some sense of rhyme and reason so that unpacking is not terribly daunting when you come back for the fall.

"But Miss Eyre," you might say, "surely, as a professional, you can understand that this task might require time outside of the school day?" Yes, I do. I stayed at school two hours late today and worked through most of my lunch getting my library sorted out for next year. I am maybe 25% done. New book purchases mean that books must be leveled; books must be sorted according to genre and level; and then stored. When I'm really clicking along, I can do maybe 30-40 books in an hour, but when you have over 100 new books to be sorted and leveled, plus a new sorting system for next year, you're talking a multi-hour task. Saving it for the last 2-3 days of school is just not doable. In fact, looking at the work still remaining after my efforts today, I'm glad I started today.

"Maybe if your classroom library was sorted and leveled to begin with, you might not have to do this." Well, you're probably right. The problem is that when I first got my classroom, I got boxes and boxes of books, most of which were not leveled, none of which were sorted by genre, and some of which were totally inappropriate for my grade. These books I have gradually weeded out over the years, only to have them replaced by more books--purchases of my own, the school's, the PTA's. All of this takes time. Plus the new requirement that 100% of books must be leveled and sorted by genre, as opposed to the old 30-40% target--you can see why this is a substantial task.

Putting together the physical space of a classroom when you teach the lower grades (I'm counting anything lower than 9th as "lower") is a task that takes close to a week of full-time days. Why administrators think that you can take it all apart on your 45-minute prep period over 2 or 3 days in June is beyond me.

Happy packing, everyone. In flagrant disobedience of the memo, I'm already underway.

Passing, and Getting Beyond Passing

2010-06-10T18:22:00.000-07:00

Well, whoopee for Miss Eyre. All my little darlings passed the ELA exam. Not like I had many worries that they wouldn't, but it's nice that it's official.

And with school winding down, I've been talking a lot with my kiddies about the future and reading many of their hopes and dreams for high school. My curmudgeonly self has to admit it's been, well, inspiring. A couple of the girls with whom I worked closely this year talked about high school with shy-but-big smiles, saying they feel prepared to go there and do well. (They're not deluded, either; I think they're ready, too.) One of my male students wrote an essay about making the honor roll for the first time and it literally made me cry. That recognition meant the world to that kid.

I guess I've felt like a failure so much this year that it's been wonderful to be reminded, despite my myriad mistakes, that I was still a force for good, on the balance, in my kids' lives. There's so much more I wish I could have done; I suppose there always is. At the end of the year I always feel like Oskar Schindler at the end of Schindler's List; "I could have got more," he frets, "I didn't do enough." (I'm not saying I put my entire fortune and, indeed, life on the line like Schindler did or anything; that is, I'm not equating myself with him. My martyr complex isn't quite that severe.)

But I did a lot. I'm not going to change everyone's life. But if I, working with my colleagues, was able to bring the lion's share of the kids to a point where they feel excited and confident about moving on to high school, I did all right. I can hold my head up. That's better than passing.

No Staycation for Miss Eyre This Summer

2010-06-03T19:32:00.000-07:00

Since I'm not getting laid off, I'm planning a real summer vacation. I've staycationed for the past two summers, and while I genuinely love messing around in the city, I have a bit of an itch for travel and I'm looking forward to scratching it.

It's not quite finalized where I'm going yet, but it makes me feel good to be able to put it on the blog.

20 Days of School Left

2010-05-31T20:06:00.001-07:00

I am awake, still, doing stuff for school I can't even talk about. I graded papers for three hours today and now I am doing stuff for people who find it charming to tell you things they need at 3 p.m. on a Friday before a three-day weekend.

Only 20 days of school left. I can make it.

Another Sunday Night

2010-05-23T16:06:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow, we'll have exactly five weeks of school left. Subtract Memorial Day and Brooklyn-Queens Day* and that's 23 school days. Subtract the clerical half-days that we folks in the elementary and middle schools have, subtract Regents Week (since no real instruction happens that week) for our colleagues in high schools, you're looking at just about 20 days, give or take a couple.

*What is Brooklyn-Queens Day, my friends outside NYC wonder? It's the day that marks the anniversary of Brooklyn and Queens joining the City of New York. Yes, there is really a day off from school for this. Well, the kids stay home; the teachers come in for a CHANCELLOR'S CONFERENCE DAY, which is about as much fun as it sounds.

We're still hard at work in Miss Eyre's classroom. The kiddies are gearing up for their social studies exit project presentations, among other things, which will happen in the second-to-last full week of school. I'm starting to openly beg for classroom library books to be returned; after all, a good many of them were bought with my own money and I'd like to have them back for next year.

But other things are drawing to a close. Our last book talks are scheduled for this week, and our last vocabulary quiz. We'll take our last social studies test soon, before we start preparing for the state social studies exam, which is much sooner than any of us think it is.

I'm elated and depressed to think about this school year ending. True, it's been a difficult year for me. But I have lovely groups of kids and I'm very much running out of time to spend with them. I've stayed in touch with many of my former students, and while it always makes my day to hear from any of them, it's never the same as having them together. The magic never re-forms itself after they go their separate ways.

Still, it's another Sunday night here in New York City and, as usual, I'm foggy-headed trying to piece the week together. Not unusually, I'm facing a number of interruptions ("special events") in this week's calendar and am trying to figure out when and how to fit everything in. I'm still grading papers and figuring out which students need to have conferences soon. Life goes on more or less as scheduled, even with so little time left.

I plan to make it to the end of this school year with my sanity, my dignity, and my rating intact. Beyond that, who knows.

College for Everybody, Anyway

2010-05-17T19:24:00.000-07:00

I like Claus van Zastrow's post on continuing the push towards college for everyone over at his Public School Insights blog today. He makes one of the few points about "college readiness" that rings true and sensible to me: "The vast majority of wealthy parents expect their kids to go to college," he writes. "Even some of those pundits who pooh pooh college in the pages of the Times or The Wall Street Journal would likely pitch a fit if their own children decided to go the voc-ed route. Poor children face a very different reality. (...) [T]hose who never went to college are getting hit hardest by this recession. The poor get poorer."

I'm skeptical, I admit, of the idea that all children can be made college-ready. Most children can, but many won't cooperate with the effort. But--and here's the key--college should be suggested and encouraged for every child. The child for whom college is the right thing--and maybe that's a poor child, an immigrant child, a child with learning disabilities--will be heartened and motivated by the expectation, the assumption that he, too, can make it to college. And the child for whom college is not right will hardly be dissuaded from education altogether by someone suggesting that she should stretch herself.

Maybe college preparation activities should be made "opt-out" at schools, rather than opt-in; that is, college tours or visits by admissions officers or SAT prep should be de rigueur for everyone. Only after a careful and realistic evaluation made by the student, his or her family, and a counselor should the child be pursuing other options that are concrete and realistic for that child. And those options should still include education.

I feel like a system like that would preserve the push towards college for bright, motivated kids who simply feel discouraged that college is out of their reach because of lack of resources. It would perhaps inspire some students to aim for college even if they didn't think they could or should do it before. And it would also help to care for those students who might still decide college is not for them.

Principal X: Developing

2010-05-15T11:05:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a fun year with Principal X. (Not really.) But let's face it: Principals have tough jobs too. I try to be a generous critic. So I'm going to list some of the good things that Principal X did at the Morton School this year:

Instituted more teacher-led professional development (previously, there was little to none of this).
Kept grades together for lunch periods (sounds like a small thing, but I think it made a big difference).
Helped students launch two new community service projects.
Hosted parent breakfasts for parents who have a hard time making it to PTA meetings in the evenings.
Planned professional development across the curriculum rather than just focusing on reading and math.
Kept appointments with members of the school consultation committee.

But, if I were rating Principal X under the new teacher evaluation system, I think s/he would still only rate a Developing. Why?

Teachers were evaluated and often criticized for not doing things for which they had explicitly and repeatedly requested training that they did not get.
Principal X cannot give a compliment to save his/her life.
Principal X's relationship with Miss AP is rapidly and obviously degenerating into total and mutual hatred.
Principal X has often undermined teachers' attempts to discipline students and does not follow the DOE Discipline Code, meaning that too many students are getting away with too much.

Where does this leave my relationship with Principal X? Honestly, I know there are some true nightmare principals out there and mine isn't one of them. And since I (painfully) remember my first year of teaching and can rattle off a list dozens deep of mistakes I made during my first year, I'm going to give Principal X the benefit of the doubt.

But in order for PX to get any better, s/he has got to become a better leader to the teachers. I don't think any teacher at the Morton School feels like PX appreciates them or recognizes their efforts. I said to a colleague the other day that our other colleagues would be much more forgiving of PX, given the very real challenges PX has had to face, if PX weren't so relentlessly critical of us.

So that's where we stand with exactly six weeks of school left. I suppose Developing means that PX can keep the job for next year but needs to do some reflecting and retraining. That sounds about right.

Salute to Smooth

2010-05-07T13:58:00.001-07:00

I haven't written about Smooth much this year, and when I mentioned him briefly in my NYC Educator post yesterday, I had to ask myself why. Smooth is a very interesting kid. If you met him, you'd think he was your standard-issue popular kid: he's cute, well-dressed, and just smart-alecky enough to be funny without being disrespectful or disruptive. He gets good-enough grades; not great, and probably not as good as he could do if he really tried, but good enough. You probably have a kid or two like Smooth. You probably like him and don't give him much more thought.

I've known Smooth for as long as I've been at the Morton School. He's always been the way he is. Except for the first half of this school year. I talked to his mom a few weeks into the school year and commented that he seemed much more reserved, maybe even a little down, than I'd known him to be in the past. He wasn't jokey and fast-talking the way he always was before, and his grades, instead of being good enough, were just north of failing.

His mom sighed. "It's his brother," she said. "He's in jail. Smooth really looks up to his brother and he made some really foolish choices, and he got caught."

I felt terribly. Smooth's brother is considerably older than him and had been out of the house for a while, but Smooth's dad is not involved with him, so the brother was something of a father figure. Smooth was angry at his brother but also missed him. Smooth's mom promised to get him into counseling and work with him to get his grades up.

Well, fast forward to May. Against those lousy odds, Smooth turned the ship around. First his grades started ticking upward. Then he started dating a sweet girl in his class. Then his former personality started wiggling out again--a funny impression here, a sarcastic remark there--and I'd say he's back to his old self.

But it's not just that. Smooth grew a heart, too. He stays late after school every day--not because he gets AIS, but because his girlfriend does, and he waits for her to get out. The girlfriend was convinced, to the point of tears, that she bombed the math exam the other day, and he didn't want to leave her side. I mean, I know these kids are young and their relationships aren't *serious* per se, but I think that's sweet.

And you know what? I think Smooth is awesome. I just know so many kids who would give up in his situation. I love that he put himself back on the right path (with help from mom and a counselor). I love that he's kind to his young lady. I even love that he messes around in class, just a little, because I think he's finding school tolerable, even positive, again.

I've been wanting to write a note to his mom and tell her all this stuff, but I haven't been sure how to say it. Maybe I should just say what I said here.

This Is Why I'm Hot

2010-05-04T15:21:00.000-07:00

I've always been an advocate of teachers dressing professionally. I don't mind casual Fridays, but I just think that coming in in sweatpants and t-shirts on a regular basis (and, yes, those stretchy velour pants ARE SWEATPANTS, ladies, and I lump track pants into that category too) doesn't send the right message. I've made a lot of mistakes in four-five years of teaching, but I've never come to work in sweatpants. That has to count for something, right?

I'm finding it hard to maintain my self-imposed dress code, though, because at the Morton School, it.is.HOT. Disgustingly hot. The DOE, in its infinite wisdom, proposed an arbitrary calendar date rather than a temperature and humidity threshold for when air conditioning can be turned on. AWESOME.

"Well, Miss Eyre," you might say, "aren't you being a little spoiled? Not all schools even HAVE air conditioning, you know. You should be lucky you have it at all."

I agree. I should probably just suck it up. I should probably just open my windows--oh wait, NONE OF MY WINDOWS OPEN ALL THE WAY.

Well, I could prop open my door. I could ask my custodian for a doorstop. SORRY, WE'RE ALL OUT OF DOORSTOPS.

So the situation in Miss Eyre's room is thus:

I am trapped in a room full of 20-30 teenagers, not all of whom have mastered the fine art of deodorant wearing yet.
None of my windows open all the way.
My door is wedged open with a binder.
EVERYONE IS COMPLAINING.
And, in this room--this very room--I have to administer a STATE MATH EXAM tomorrow. YES.

Forgive me if I show up tomorrow in a bathing suit and flip-flops.

Murderers' Row: The Sequel, Sort Of

2010-04-20T19:19:00.000-07:00

Apparently this week I'm writing sequels to some of my previous blogs. Today, I'm tackling a fresh, if quick, revisitation of the Life at the Morton School classic Murderers' Row. The gist of this post was that, despite the relentless (some might say obsessive/self-aggrandizing/obnoxious/all of the above) drive of the New York Yankees to win the World Series every.single.year, they still have only done it 25% of the time--which is still far more than any other team in the league. And as far as this has implications for teaching and schools, you can't do reform (real reform, not what folks like Norm Scott charmingly call "deform") on the cheap or overnight. The Yankees organization, quite the bastion of unapologetic capitalism, knowa this, I note, so why not Mayor Bloomberg, he who believes that the free market will solve everything?

Then today, via GothamSchools, I picked up this delightful blog posting that also uses sports metaphors to get the point across. Most sensibly, this blogger, Sam Chaltain (with whom I was unfamiliar before but is becoming a very fast favorite!) points out that while there are certainly superstar teachers and teachers who might nicely be described as not-very-superstar-like, the vast majority lie somewhere in between on the competence and effectiveness scale. These teachers, he argues, need investment and support, not scorched-earth policies that force them to narrow their curricula, pedagogy, and (I think) their own spirits, interests, values, and talents in the classroom to what Chaltain calls "40 times"--reading and math test scores.

I don't know why I think people like Klein and Bloomberg will listen to Chaltain any more than they'll listen to me, but I would like to encourage him to keep talking.

¡Vamonos!

2010-04-11T10:22:00.000-07:00

A student of mine whom I'll refer to as "Junior" was singing the Dora the Explorer theme song the other day. As a refresher here, I teach eighth grade. Maybe in a kindergarten classroom, the Dora theme would go unnoticed; in a middle school classroom, I found it surprising and touching.

Shortly thereafter that same time, I saw Junior in the hallway complaining to his friends about how long it was taking them to catch up to him. "Damn, n***a," he said, "let's go, we gotta get to class."

"Junior," I said sharply, "that's not appropriate."

"Oh," he said, realizing I was right behind him, "yeah, sorry."

"You know," I said, "not ten minutes ago you were singing the Dora song, and now I hear that kind of language from you?"

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "You know. My little brother." (Junior has a brother in the elementary school; second grade, I think.)

"Well, you wouldn't want your little brother to hear that other language, would you?"

"Nah, nah," he said. "You're right."

I sent him on his way, shaking my head a little. It was a good reminder of just how "middle" middle school can be.

The Fork

2010-04-08T17:52:00.000-07:00

Principal X decided to "pop in" for a little while this afternoon. It was not really a good day to drop by. It was the last period of an 80+ degree day in an un-air-conditioned room with a bunch of teenagers, almost none of whom had done last night's homework, so...you tell me how you think the visit went.

The ensuing conversation with PX was unpleasant. Apparently I should just be conferring with students all the time. That's the only thing PX ever wants to see. Never mind that when s/he comes in during conferencing, I do that wrong too. Le sigh.

Anyway, after the Grand Poobah swept out of the room, I was officially drained of energy for the day. One thing I will say about my darlings, they have my back. They were dead silent the whole time PX was in the room, and looked about rather tentatively after PX left, wondering what to say or do. I made appropriate murmurings to put them back on task, somewhat halfheartedly. I think they could tell I wasn't going to enforce this too hard, but God bless them, they got right back to work.

They plugged away for a few more minutes until a boy I'll call Teddy raised his hand. "Miss Eyre?" he said. "I don't know if now is a good time to tell you this, but you have a fork in your hair."

"I...what?"

I reached up and touched my ponytail, where I tend to absentmindedly stash pens and pencils. Sure enough, there was a plastic fork stuck through it. I remembered thinking a spork would be better suited to my lunchtime yogurt today. And that was evidently where I'd put the unneeded fork.

I burst out laughing. The kids laughed along with me. I gave Teddy a hug. And I said, "Okay, kids, let's call it a day."

And I went home with them at the end of the day. 'Cause, man, when you've been dressed down by your boss with a fork in your hair, really, you've got nowhere else to go from that point.

On the Eve of Spring Break

2010-03-26T17:31:00.000-07:00

Rest up, have fun, be safe.

If you teach 8th graders, try to get the message to them that their high school letters are coming.

Pray/hope/vibrate for good weather.

We all deserve it...this is the last big one until the summer, so make the most of it!

94 calendar days until June 28.

Mi Asignatura Favorita

2010-03-24T17:52:00.000-07:00

Well, if you read my most recent post at NYC Educator, you'll know I was feeling somewhat disheartened about how the Learning Environment Survey was playing out in my class. Thankfully, a bulletin board--yes, a bulletin board--helped to lighten my mood.

I have to admit I don't always read my colleagues' bulletin boards, particularly when they're not in my native language. This particular bulletin board was in Spanish, and perhaps I thought I was practicing my rusty Espanol by stopping and leering for a minuto. Many of the pieces displayed on this board belonged to my own students.

The writing that the maestra had them doing was about their favorite subjects--their asignaturas favoritas. They had to name their favorite subject and why they liked it. Guess what? About half of them said their favorite subject was Ingles.

Okay, that about made my day.

Save Student MetroCards!

2010-03-16T17:47:00.000-07:00

It's hard enough to get some kids to show up to school with MetroCards. Take away MetroCards and you're putting an already-vulnerable population at risk for missing more and more school. Sign the Working Families' Party petition to save student MetroCards.

Sunday Night Optimism

2010-03-14T17:48:00.000-07:00

Sunday Night Optimism is cousin to Monday Morning Quarterbacking. Sunday Night Optimism says, "I had a very nice weekend and I feel prepared to go back to work. Everything is going to be fine this week. Heck, I might even have reason to look forward to work this week." This is a fine feeling to have on Sunday night. Here I sit, a large pile of graded papers beside me, lessons ready for tomorrow, a tasty dinner in my belly and one more movie in the DVD player before I call it a weekend. However, as frequent readers of this blog know, Sunday Night Optimism is a bad feeling for me. It has, as of late, portended a horrible week.

BUT. BUT! I dodged two major bullets last week: the Quality Review report, in which I was not implicated; and the Teacher Data Report, which turned out fine. And assuming no psycho parents show up for Open School Night (we really don't have any hardcore psycho parents in my grade, thank goodness), it should be a reasonably smooth week.

I'm off now to knock on every wooden surface in my apartment.

Meetings Will Continue Until Morale Improves

2010-03-11T15:11:00.000-08:00

The shit has hit the fan at the Morton School. Phrases like "worst week of my life," "career change," "utterly depressing," "all for nothing," and more are emerging from whispered conversations in the hallways and the teachers' lounge. It's the kind of talk one might expect to hear in, say, a SURR school facing a 50% budget cut in which one-quarter of the teacher and student population had recently, say, died.

Nothing of the sort has transpired. I tend not to say very much about the general environs of the Morton School to keep this blog as anonymous as possible, but what the hell. I took the name of this blog from Jane Eyre, the timeless story of a determined young woman who, among other things, does time as a teacher. The very name "Morton School" brings to mind Jane Eyre's little school, in which the strong-willed Jane takes all comers and, with her unique blend of smarts, toughness, creativity, and love, turns her students into self-respecting and well-prepared young people. She says of her school and her students, "These soon took a pleasure in doing their work well, in keeping their persons neat, in learning their tasks regularly, in acquiring quiet and orderly manners. The rapidity of their progress, in some instances, was even surprising; and an honest and happy pride I took in it: besides, I began personally to like some of the best girls; and they liked me." Later, when she concludes her tenure there, she says, "I had long felt with pleasure that many of my rustic scholars liked me, and when we parted, that consciousness was confirmed: they manifested their affection plainly and strongly.(...) Mr. Rivers came up as, having seen the classes, now numbering sixty girls, file out before me, and locked the door, I stood with the key in my hand, exchanging a few words of special farewell with some half-dozen of my best scholars: as decent, respectable, modest, and well-informed young women as could be found in the ranks of the British peasantry." I'll spare you any further forays into proto-Victorian literature; suffice it to say that this is largely how I see myself, my school, and my students (though perhaps the author Charlotte Bronte is a tad condescending towards Jane's students at times).

The Morton School, circa NYC in 2010, is a lovely school. Our building is kept clean and pleasant by all teachers and by a dedicated custodial staff. We are fortunate to have a very fine arts program that gives students a number of opportunities to pursue visual art, music, and dance. We have a beautiful library cared for by an excellent librarian. Of course, if none of those "frills" matter to you these days, take a look at our test scores. They're good. Great, in fact. We send a sizeable percentage of students, above the citywide average, to the specialized high schools year after year. You can say you work at the Morton School with a sense of pride, knowing that our school gets dozens of resumes every year for positions that are very unlikely to become open. How yours truly ended up there remains a mystery. But, if the numbers are any indication at all, I've held my own there.

So why is everyone at the Morton School so miserable?

Two words: QUALITY REVIEW.

Principal X has gotten the results of our Quality Review. And, apparently, it sucks. Again. How a school that operates like ours does and produces such good results ends up with such a lousy review is beyond me. After all, I'm just a village schoolteacher, as Jane might say. But it makes me wonder: What good is this doing anyone if, by any other measure you can imagine, our school is pretty darn good? What are we missing? Why are we constantly feeling pressure to fix that which is not, it would seem, broken?

I don't know the answers to these questions. But probably Principal X will deem more of the same to be necessary: More upheaval that doesn't help teacher or student; more meetings; more paperwork; more "you suck" as both implicit and explicit messages in feedback.

I'm not saying there's no room to improve at our school. There always is. But there's the idea of continuous improvement, because one wants to maintain the quality one has and expand it; and there's the idea of IMMEDIATE AND TOTAL REFORM BECAUSE EVERYTHING YOU ARE DOING SUCKS. Maybe Principal X and the quality reviewer mean the former. But the message we're getting is the latter. And that's not helpful for anyone.

My New Obsession: Teachable Moments (No, Not Those Bizarre Moments in the Middle of Class)

2010-03-09T14:24:00.000-08:00

But this very funny webcomic by teacher Chris Pearce. All are SFW, so feel free to distribute widely and enjoy a chuckle!

Drop Everything and Read

2010-03-01T19:41:00.000-08:00

Today was such a crazy freakin' day that I sat down and read with the kids during DEAR (Drop Everything and Read) time today for about fifteen minutes. I was reading a book that one of them recommended to me (Uprising by Margaret Haddix Peterson, historical fiction about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire).

It was nice.

Very Productive Long Weekend

2010-02-28T16:48:00.000-08:00

That's what I had. I graded four sets of papers, planned lessons for this whole week, worked on some stuff for an extracurricular activity I advise, and finished two reports for my literacy coach. I AM AWESOME.

Here's my problem, which happened after Christmas vacation and again after winter recess last week: I'll feel FINE about going back to work--accomplished, in control, ready--and then by Monday or at the latest Tuesday, I'm depressed and demoralized again. I worked on that very hard this weekend. Even if I'm not "with the program," I'm still a good teacher for lots of reasons. I can see a few areas where I need to improve and I'm working towards that every day. I really and truly don't suck. I got a few nice compliments from colleagues and from students and even from my AP this past week, and I HAVE to hold on to those things. If I let Principal X be the sole source of my feel-good about work, well, it's just not going to happen. S/he just is not in the business of giving warm fuzzies. And maybe I have to learn to live with that, at least for the rest of this school year.

I even got my car dug out, so I should be able to breeze off to the Morton School tomorrow problem-free.

Right?

RIGHT.

Here we go again. 120 days until summer vacation.

Come On, Saint Eulalia...

2010-02-25T20:24:00.000-08:00

Let's do this thing.

Back to the Grind

2010-02-21T06:08:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow we're all back to work and I have to say I had a really nice break. I didn't do much, but I had tried to plan it so that I wouldn't need to. The Morton School recently gave out report cards, so I didn't have a backlog of grading to work through. I have eight million interruptions this week, so I didn't need to plan a full week of lessons, either. About the only thing I have left to do is preview a movie I might show the kiddies, which will be a nice quiet way to pass this Sunday morning.

My resolution for the rest of this year is to stop letting Principal X and the b-s at school get me down so much. I had some revelations in the past couple of weeks that reminded me that, details be damned, I am a good teacher who is respected and appreciated by current and former students alike. That means a great deal to me. Principal X may not have any use for that particular measure of teacher quality, which is fine. It means everything to me, though.

This school year has been tough on everyone at the Morton School. I know this for certain now, that it was never just me. I'm doing the best I can in a difficult situation, and as long as I behave kindly and fairly to the kids and design lessons that don't waste their time, I am doing a good job. Everything else is details. Some details I'm good at, some details I'm not. C'est la vie.

Now, let's see if this eminently reasonable and healthy attitude endures for longer than 36 hours.

Quiet Winter Recess at Home

2010-02-17T17:33:00.001-08:00

I wanted to go on vacation for this recess, I admit, but for various reasons it didn't work out. As it turns out, though, I'm okay with it. I'm having a nice winter recess anyway. I've visited with some friends and family, done some sightseeing across the city, enjoyed watching the Olympics, and caught up on some movies and books I've been meaning to get around to.

I came to the realization that, despite how hellacious work has been since returning from the holiday recess, I dragged my sorry butt in to work every single day. If ever I deserved a mental health day, these past six weeks were it. But I doggedly showed up every day, if only because I was embarrassed about how messy my desk was. So I pat myself on the back.

Incidentally, there are only five weeks between this break and the next one. But April and May are going to be looooooong. Still, March is right around the corner. The end is starting to come in to focus.

All Hail Saint Eulalia

2010-02-09T15:03:00.001-08:00

Won't be setting the alarm tomorrow! WOOHOO!

Back from the Dark Side

2010-02-08T16:28:00.001-08:00

One of my most controversial posts here was this one, in which I complained, perhaps unfairly, about a colleague who, as I put it then, went over to "the dark side." She had been an administrative intern and seemed, for a while, to be firmly in Principal X's pocket. I am, in a tragic way, happy to report her return from the dark side. And yes, these days, at the Morton School, it definitely is the dark side. Sorry.

I had to talk to her today about a matter completely unrelated to general bitching about Morton School management, and we ended up having a just-like-old-times talk about how much everything has changed. Apparently my colleague found herself on the receiving end of Principal X's insanity a few too many times. We talked for almost an hour, leaving with promises to catch up more often. I was reminded what I'd always liked about her--her sense of adventure and abandon in the classroom, her irreverence and wit. She's a wonderful teacher and we're lucky to have her. And of course, I'm glad that she doesn't see me as a squeaky widget anymore!

Meanwhile, Principal X is getting crazier. Principal X making someone cry is hardly newsworthy, but the other day, one of Principal X's staunchest defenders broke down and cried. It's getting uglier by the minute in our "breezy mountain nook in the healthy heart of England," so to speak.

Thank God for the kids. Apparently my job is to teach them. Who knew?

¡Callate la Boca!

2010-02-02T15:01:00.000-08:00

I had to talk to a colleague the other day. I caught her during our common prep, but she was on her way to cover a Spanish class.

She motioned me into the room anyway, and we tried to have our conversation, but the students in the room were giddy with the absence of their regular teacher. Within a few minutes, the room had erupted in chatter and laughter. "HEY!" my colleague shouted at them. "I know every single one of you and most of your parents! Your teacher left work for you and you're going to do it! And don't ask me for help, because the only Spanish I speak is ¡CALLATE LA BOCA! You got that?"

Chastened, they put their heads down and grudgingly pulled out their Spanish books.

I hope to one day achieve that level of classroom management.

January Is Over

2010-01-29T14:42:00.000-08:00

Well, for all intents and purposes, January is over. On Monday, the school year will be more than halfway over. And thank goodness for that. I haven't had a month like this since early 2008.

"It has taken me a great deal to regain my footing," as Carl Jung once said, and I think I have. After a couple of weeks of total despair, I had a fairly peaceful and productive week this week. One rotten lesson with my difficult class, but okay, that happens sometimes. One annoying meeting, but only mildly annoying, and Principal X wasn't there for it. And I got lots done every single day--a couple of big projects and big piles of grading out of the way.

But boy, was this month ever a slog. I was saying to a colleague that last year, I didn't really start thinking about summer vacation until sometime in May. This year, I've been dreaming of summer since November. That's not so good. Now, at least, I can console myself by saying I'm more than halfway there.

Loose Lips Sink Ships

2010-01-21T14:59:00.001-08:00

It's an old military saying, as you may know. I mentioned it today, along with the idiom "keep your cards close to your vest," to my class while trying to describe a character in a story who is quiet and reserved. I explained the source of the saying by saying that if a ship's location is known to an enemy, the enemy could come along and sink it, so you have to keep the ship's location a secret--loose lips sink ships.

"In that case," one of my students said, "my sister is lettin' in all kinds of water every time she open her mouth."

Yeah, I LOL'd.

I Like This Idea: Kelly Gallagher's Article of the Week

2010-01-18T11:36:00.001-08:00

Taking this opportunity over the long weekend to do a little professional research, I came across this idea from Kelly Gallagher:

http://www.kellygallagher.org/resources/articles.html

What a great way to build background knowledge while also allowing students to interact with texts in their own ways.

'Kay, I'm Good Now.

2010-01-14T14:03:00.000-08:00

Leaving work while it's still light outside=EPIC WIN.

Three-day weekend=AWESOMENESS.

The Worst Drive Home from Work Ever

2010-01-12T16:18:00.000-08:00

Well, I shattered my longest-day record for this school year. I clocked eleven hours in the school building today, which is way too long. And all the way home I was berating myself for my many failures as a teacher: not enough parent contact, too long to get papers graded, disorganized classroom, blah blah blah.

I wish I had a happy ending for this post, some peppy way that I talked myself out of this self-esteem death spiral. But I don't. I'm disappointing myself as a teacher. I can't even figure out why. I look at how hard I'm working and I don't know what I'm missing, but it's not enough, and everything that goes even slightly negative towards me just breaks me up right now. Today, just a mildly annoyed e-mail from a parent pushed me over the edge. I had to rehearse a reply in my head three times before I could come up with something conciliatory, pleasant, and helpful.

Today is one of those days when I remember my career in corporate America and I wonder if working for a soulless, faceless entity was really so bad. After all, I had a big desk, I could listen to music all day, and I never had to take work home. My work was easy to understand and, even though it could be time-consuming, I never had these spirit-killing doubts about how to do it. And if I didn't understand it, I could pop over to someone else's cube, ask them, and be set right usually in a matter of minutes and be on my merry way. Fixing a mistake didn't take days or weeks or months. It might not have been the most inspiring work, but dammit, I was good at it and my boss was happy with me.

These thoughts and more, right up to and including how on earth to roll over my TRS funds into a Roth IRA if I decide to quit, filled my mind on the way home from work today. I've been having too many of these days lately. Please someone tell me that this is not a sign, but is entirely normal, even well after one's first or second year is over. I'm feeling like a noob this week.

Another Perfectly Good Sunday Ruined

2010-01-10T15:16:00.000-08:00

I wish I hadn't spent most of today doing schoolwork, but I did. Where does this shit come from?

I have THREE new units launching in the next two weeks, two of which are brand-new to me, so I had to prepare for that. One is more or less done, now. I had to spend a good hour or so reading, another hour or so filling out unit planners, another hour writing lesson plans for tomorrow, an hour going to and from Staples to make copies (don't blame the bizarro copying world at the Morton School, this time it's my own fault), and maybe one more hour (after dinner) grading. Okay, that's clearly five hours. Clearly enough for a Sunday.

But I still feel guilty because I have four huge stacks of fairly heavy writing to get through sometime soon, as well as two stacks of quizzes I hoped to do this weekend. But I HAD to take yesterday off. Last week was just too much. And I didn't even take yesterday entirely off because, among my relaxing, I watched a documentary I plan to show the kids, which should count as a little work too.

I'm out for PD one day this week, which is nice, even if setting up for a substitute is a hassle. I know what work I plan to leave for the kids already, anyway. And then next week we have a three-day weekend. I think I can make it to winter recess. Maybe.

Don't Mess with Shauna

2010-01-06T14:09:00.000-08:00

I've written about Shauna here before. I love this kid, and today, I almost got into with Principal X over her.

Without going too much into the dirty details of the whole unpleasant sit-down I had today, one thing that really irked me--and I didn't even know how much until afterwards--was how much Principal X discounted Shauna. Shauna, as I've mentioned, is a former ELL--specifically, she tested out of ELL two years ago after arriving in the country four years ago. English is her third language, and she works very hard to improve her English. Anyway.

Principal X was questioning Shauna's records in my class and comparing them with what her most recent assessment showed. Principal X was dismissive because Shauna's score was only a 70%--which, last time I checked, was a high Level 3. Shauna has made progress every year in everything, if you look at her records on ARIS--her NYSESLAT climbed for three straight years until she tested out, she went from a 2 to a 3 on the ELA once she was in the country long enough to have taken in twice, her grades are good and her behavior is exemplary. I don't know why Principal X was being so hard on Shauna--and, by extension I suppose, on me.

You can criticize my teaching, my classroom, whatever and I'll try very hard to take it like a grownup. But pile on some kid who's obviously doing the very best she can, and I get nasty.

A Snapshot Is (Not) Worth a Thousand Words

2010-01-05T17:05:00.000-08:00

I hate "walkthroughs," "snapshots," "learning walks" or whatever you want to call them. Well, I don't hate them all by themselves. I don't mind if an administrator wants to come by my classroom and look around and see what we're doing--I have nothing to hide. What I DO hate is when they come around in a pack with someone or several someones from outside the school, look around the whole room, take a bunch of notes, and leave without talking to me. Tell me that's not enough to rattle anyone!

I especially hate that it happened early in my day today and just left me anxious and cranky all day. I worked very hard to hide it, and I let the kids cheer me up this afternoon, not caring if social studies was perhaps more lively and freewheeling than it should have been. It helped me forget about it for a while.

As I said to a colleague yesterday, the children are always the least of my problems.

A Wonderful Break

2010-01-03T08:07:00.000-08:00

I hope all of my colleagues had a wonderful holiday break. I certainly did! I got to spend a lot of time with friends and family, read some great books (for work and for fun), did a lot of grading and reflecting, even cleaned my house. The terrible weather we had here in NYC was actually pretty conducive to having a nice time, for me, because it meant I could stay home and relax without feeling bad about not being out and about.

Breaks like these are so valuable. I feel great about going back to work tomorrow. I usually launch a new unit after the holidays, but this year we're going to ease our way back into the curriculum. We're going to have a few days of reflecting, goal-setting, portfolio building, and word work before we start our new unit. I'm sure my darlings won't be nearly as giddy to be back in the classroom as I will, so we'll go gentle for the first few days. They need some time to get back into the swing of things.

December is always a much longer month than January. You have a holiday in January, and then you have not so long until winter recess anyway.

All right, enjoy your last day off, everyone. Back for more fun tomorrow!

Welcome to Visitors from Joanne Jacobs (or Anywhere)

2009-12-30T10:01:00.001-08:00

Since I invited readers from Joanne Jacobs to read through my thoughts on teacher evaluation, I thought I should provide some handy links:

It's the Teachers, Stupid...Right?

A Modest Proposal, Part 1

A Modest Proposal, Part 2

I've meant to post some more of my thoughts on this, actually, so maybe I will.

Time for Vacation!

2009-12-23T17:31:00.000-08:00

Woohoo! Had a great day with the kids today, got some lovely gifts from them, watched a movie, sent them (and myself) home with some homework...now I'm home and getting everything together for Christmas.

All the best to you and yours for this lovely, lovely break. ENJOY IT! YOU'VE EARNED IT!

Lies, Damned Lies, and the School Quality Review

2009-12-21T19:03:00.000-08:00

Well, our School Quality Review is happening pretty soon at the Morton School. Without giving too much away, this will not be the first or second quality review I've been through in as many years, so I'm pretty qualified to discuss why I hate this process.

Our principal is, to put it mildly, obsessed with the SQR--with admittedly good reason. It can make or break a school in so many ways. It's the DOE's stamp of approval (or not) on the job the principal is doing. I get why our principal is so concerned with it, I really do--I don't want to turn this into a principal-bash because I understand the admin's perspective. So let me make that clear right off.

But I do wonder how much time is spent (wasted?) on prepping for a quality review so explicitly. It's sort of like doing full-time test prep with kids: All we're learning is how to talk to quality reviewers, not actually how to improve our teaching. None of what I've learned about the SQR so far, this year or possibly ever, has helped me reach one child more effectively--just like, I suspect, the state ELA exam never actually helped a kid become a better reader or writer. I can see the need for some kind of review process, but I'm not sure that having some semi-retired principal and some person from England (no matter how lovely, smart, or well-intentioned the English I've worked with have been, which they are; they are usually much nicer and more professional than the DOEers who tend to do these things) really helps to improve things in a school.

I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. I pride myself on trying to be aware of and learn more about the larger DOE, but I certainly don't have the circumspection or history at this point in my career to know the difference; I've only known a DOE with quality reviews. Maybe things were worse before we had them.

But here's what I wish for: I wish someone, someday would stand up and say that the nicest thing you can say about the quality review rubric is that it's aspirational. It gives schools a lot of things to work on--not all of which are automatically unqualified goods, in my opinion, but it's certainly a starting point. But I wish some administrator would have the guts to say, This is not as important as the day-to-day business of educating children. Do that well and a positive quality review will follow. I wish some DOEer would be honest and say, Yes, this IS a "gotcha" exercise. We DO want to know what you're not doing. We DO want to catch you slipping up. And if that isn't the case, don't have a goddamn 100-point checklist/rubric/whatever (I'm exaggerating, but not by much) and make us feel like shit.

Good Lord. I'm so ready for vacation.

45 Minutes of Nothing

2009-12-17T14:51:00.000-08:00

Jack seems to have lost interest in doing his schoolwork. So have I, by this time of year, but if I'm not allowed to go into hibernation from now until January 4, neither is he.

"Where's your paper, Jack?" I asked him as his class's writing groups gathered to start peer revision.

"Uhh," he said, "here."

I looked at it. It was a paragraph, this after a week of work. "Jack," I said, "you know this was supposed to be much more substantial."

"Yyyyyeeeaaahhh," he said, slowly, as if he might in fact not have known. He looked at his tablemates' papers, all a couple of pages long.

"It would probably be better if you spent this time drafting," I suggested.

Jack agreed. Then he stared into space for ten minutes. I usually allow kids to drift and daydream for a few minutes during writing time--some people really do need that time to spool, so to speak--but ten is usually my cutoff before I make them write SOMETHING, even if it's their name.

After ten minutes had passed with nary a word, I came back to prod him. "I'm starting right now," he protested. "Here." He scratched a few words on his paper.

Shortly after that, he was poking and chatting with two of his tablemates who were still doing peer revision. By this time more than half of the period had passed. "Jack," I said sharply, "you have work to do. It looks like you've written five words all period."

"I know," he said. "I don't know what to write."

"You know what to write," I said. "You're writing about a special time in your life. A time when you were happy or sad or scared, a time that helped to make you who you are today."

Jack looked at me blankly.

"A time when you've changed," I offered.

He looked towards the ceiling.

I waited.

Finally I asked, "Maybe a time when you've changed your mind about something?"

He thought again. Then he said, "Well, I used to not like math. But now I like it."

"Okay!" I said. "So what changed your mind?"

"Well, math class in sixth grade," he said. "That was a cool class. It made me like math."

I started drawing a circle map. "Uh huh," I said. "Keep going. Who was your teacher?"

"Miss Fox," he said.

"Okay," I said. In the middle of the map I wrote, "6th GRADE MATH CLASS." Next to that I wrote, "MISS FOX." Then I gave him the map. "You keep going," I said. "Write everything you can think of about sixth grade math. People, places, things, feelings, sounds, smells...anything you can think of. Try to fill that whole circle. I'll come back in a few minutes and see how you're doing."

He nodded.

I came back in a few minutes. "How's it going?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

I looked at the paper.

Nothing.

What's going on here? That's a genuine question. The kid can write. He's written five-paragraph essays before. Is it just an off day? Or is it something else?

"SHUT. UP. I'M. WORKING."

2009-12-15T16:33:00.001-08:00

Shauna is one of my favorite (yeah, I admit, I have them) students this year. She's a fairly recent immigrant still struggling with some ESL issues, but since English is her third language at the tender age of twelve, I think she deserves a lot of credit for how far she's come already. She works very hard and has a sweet, sunny disposition that anyone would be hard-pressed not to adore. Easy to like, certainly, and I'm proud of the progress she's made so far.

Anyway, Shauna was sitting with Jack today. Jack, as I've mentioned before, is a sweet boy, but he's not so into the academic aspects of school. For different reasons, they're both in my extended day section together. We were doing some writing today, and Jack was just plum out of energy for the day. He doodled on his paper for a while, making a title out of fancy letters and drawing some cartoons in the margins, before staring off into space for a minute or two.

"Come on, Jack," I chided gently, "let's get to work."

He started bugging Lisa, a girl who, like Caroline, has no patience for poor Jack. Lisa gave him dagger eyes and he quickly stopped. But then he turned his attention to Shauna. Sweet, gentle, shy, kind Shauna. Surely, Jack must have thought, dear Shauna will let me mess around for minute or two. She's so nice. She never says anything mean to anybody. She'll talk to me and look at my drawings.

He started pestering Shauna. Her reply, in a seethe that I've never heard from darling Shauna, came quickly:

"SHUT. UP. I'M. WORKING."

And with that, a chastened Jack finally got to work.

How Long Does It Take to Make 100 Copies?, Part 2

2009-12-14T18:29:00.001-08:00

The second part of this Life at the Morton School classic goes live at midnight at NYC Educator.

Seven school days until holiday break!

"It Sounds Like a Disease"

2009-12-10T17:00:00.001-08:00

Today was one of those days. I think everyone has one just before Christmas, if you don't have ten. I woke up on the wrong side of the futon because my Asiago cheese bagel got stuck in the toaster and everything went downhill from there. I strongly considered calling in sick, if only to prevent myself from making some poor child cry, but I was too embarrassed to call in sick because my desk is an unholy mess. I ended up in my classroom, ten minutes before first period, literally, out loud, talking to myself: "Do NOT scream at the children. It's only first period. They haven't done anything yet."

My classes, as it often happens on those days, ended up cheering me up rather than bringing me down. One of my kids, who we'll call Oliver, asked me while we were having some composing time, "Miss Eyre, what's a word that means, like, feeling more than one feeling at once?"

I knew what he meant. "How about ambivalent?" I suggested.

He tried it on for size. "Ambivalent," he repeated. "That's an adjective, right?"

"You got it," I said. "The noun form would be ambivalence."

His tablemate, Jemima, commented, "It sounds like a disease. Like, 'Wow, you have ambivalence? That sucks.'"

"Like, 'Oh, I'm calling in sick. I have ambivalence,'" I offered.

We all laughed. But as I walked away, I thought, in fact, that ambivalence is a fine reason for calling in sick. Maybe I'll call in with ambivalence tomorrow. God knows I have it right now.

Good Morning, Boys and Girls

2009-12-09T14:41:00.000-08:00

I have a beef with morning announcements. They are tedious, repetitive, rarely informative, and waste valuable instructional time. You may as well cut your 45-minute first period lesson plan down to 40 minutes or less because of morning announcements. I pride myself on starting first period precisely on time, and it irks me that I'm usually well into my lesson when I have to stop myself and the kids to listen to a bunch of prattle.

Principal X runs a reasonably tight ship when s/he does the announcements and usually keeps them under 5 minutes, but Miss AP is another story. My first-period class, a great group of kids possessed of strong senses of both humor and discretion, clocked her at ten minutes once. Ten minutes is 22% of a 45-minute period.

The administration does not seem to realize that when the same exhortations about lunch and recess behavior, sharing, reading, etc. are repeated ad nauseam and verbatim every.single.day, kids quickly tune out. I have students who can recite the morning announcements from memory. Such are the morning announcements that when something truly noteworthy is announced, hardly anyone hears it because no one is paying attention anymore.

Have a great day!

Thanks, Dr. Schiff

2009-12-07T18:15:00.000-08:00

Someone else realized that the teacher-doctor comparison doesn't quite fly.

In other news, new guestblog at NYC Educator up at midnight. Go there.

Best of the Edublogs

2009-12-05T09:01:00.001-08:00

Robert Pondiscio at Core Knowledge had such kind words for this blog and for my work at NYC Educator that I just had to return the favor! Here are my nods for the Best of Edublogs 2009:

1.) BEST INDIVIDUAL BLOG: I'll agree with Robert and give a nod to Joanne Jacobs. I don't always agree with Joanne, but she always gives me something to think about--and by "always," I mean *every* *single* *day.*

And speaking of Robert, I just love Core Knowledge. Not just because I love the Core Knowledge curriculum, but because he's always on the lookout for the absurd, the inspiring, and the truly smart in education today.

10.) BEST TEACHER BLOG: Not because I'm on it (NOT AT ALL)--no, really, even if I was admiring from afar, it would be NYC Educator. NYC Educator got me into reading teacher blogs and eventually blogging myself.

But if NYC Educator didn't exist, it would be Pissed Off Teacher or The Jose Vilson. PO'd Teacher reminds us why retirement age shouldn't be a reason to give up the fight, while Jose gives us the perspective of a politically and culturally engaged younger teacher. I love his blog all the time.

17.) BEST EDUCATIONAL WIKI: If you've never checked out Curriki, you should--a brilliant and exciting collection of lesson plans, units, assessments, and much, much more.

20.) LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT: Undoubtedly Bridging Differences. Not a blog to read if you only have a minute! Deborah Meier and Diane Ravitch's posts, and the comments they inspire, are deep, rigorous, and endlessly inspiring.

Thanks a million to Robert for the nod, and thanks to all the great bloggers out there who keep us inspired and fighting!

From My Cold Dead Hands, Part II

2009-12-03T16:47:00.000-08:00

Oh, Principal X. Just when we were becoming friends.

Please stop messing around with my curriculum. Or, if you plan to continue doing so, I hope you also plan to buy all the new materials and send me to all the new training I am going to be needing to cope with your grand plan. And maybe a few bottles of wine too.

My unit for January is now being disputed. Now. Don't forget, Principal X has had my curriculum map SINCE JUNE.

What's that delightful saying admins always like to use? "Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part"? Perhaps it is apt at this moment.

You Should Struggle with the Almighty!

2009-11-25T15:05:00.000-08:00

[The quote in this title is from Angels in America by Tony Kushner, one of my favorite plays.]

I was having a reading conference with ShaSha a few days ago that wasn't going so well. ShaSha is an average student by almost any measure. She's sweet and funny and likeable, but in terms of her schoolwork, she's pretty much the middle of the road. I think she has the ability to be a better reader, and I've been trying to challenge her in that direction. But our reading conference wasn't off to a good start.

"I'm having a hard time reading this book you gave me," she said.

"What's hard about it?" I asked.

"I don't know. The story is confusing."

"Well, can you tell me what you've read so far?"

She retold the story accurately.

"Okay," I said, "that sounds about right."

"Yeah," ShaSha said, "But I don't get why she [the author] keeps switching back and forth between the two settings."

"Which settings?"

She named them correctly.

"And you noticed that she tends to concentrate on those two different settings and switch back and forth."

"Well, yeah."

"Why do you think she does that?"

She thought for a minute. "I guess to show how the character is different, like, in the two settings," ShaSha said. "Like, people treat her differently and she feels different based on where she is."

"I think you're right," I said to her. "So I have to ask you, ShaSha, what's hard about this book, then? Because you seem to understand it pretty well."

"Well, I understand it NOW," she said. "Like talking to you and to my group."

"Right," I said. "It's a little above your reading level. That's why you're reading it with your group and having conferences with me about it."

"Okay," she said, doubtfully.

"So when you read by yourself," I said, "it should be a little hard. That challenge is what's going to stretch you to your next reading level."

Then she seemed to get it. "Oh, right," she said. "I see."

ShaSha felt better after that. After the period ended, I walked with her to her next class and thanked her for sharing her struggles with me--we teachers aren't mind readers, after all, and her honesty helped me help her that day. And it reminded me that, as teachers, we sometimes need to gently remind our students that learning is supposed to be hard. It shouldn't come instantly or easily. If it did, it wouldn't be called learning--it would be watching or consuming, but not learning.

"That Guy Looks Like Ice Cube"

2009-11-19T13:59:00.001-08:00

It was a busy and tiring day at the Morton School. My darlings were a little crazy this afternoon and probably not terribly encouraged by the results of the quiz I handed back to them, and they were cranky and mumbly for much of their double period. They were also annoyed with their guided reading group members, a number of whom had not done their reading last night and a few of whom were several days behind. In turn, I was also not perhaps in the most chipper of moods by the time last period rolled around.

When my truculent dears were finally settled into their works, I set to conferencing with my groups. One group had a boy I'll call Levar who was far ahead of his partner because his partner was way behind, so I decided to start him on a new, more challenging book. I went to the classroom library to get a book I'd borrowed from another teacher with him in mind.

"Here," I said, handing him Walking with the Wind: A Memoir of the Movement by John Lewis. "I thought you'd like this. It's about the civil rights movement and there are some really exciting parts about how Lewis confronted violence in the South while trying to fight for equal rights. And it will be a challenging read for you, too."

Levar took the book and held it at arm's length. "Yo," he said thoughtfully, looking at the portrait of a young, tense Lewis on the cover, "that guy looks like Ice Cube."

Well, I probably should have stopped him from comparing the august John Lewis to a gangsta rapper. But I didn't. Instead I laughed, and laughed, and my tension and frustration softened, at least for a while.

Thanks, Levar. I needed that.

Itty Bitty Witty Committee

2009-11-18T20:29:00.000-08:00

I've never been on a committee at the Morton School. This shocks people who know me. I am fond of groups and have belonged to many in my life, and even led a few with some success. But I resisted committee memberships at first because I was busy and scared, and then because committees at the Morton School tend to be clannish little groups that are by invitation only and feature the same people over and over again.

So I was pretty surprised when Principal X asked me to be part of a committee. S/he was so enthusiastic and nice about it that I found myself saying yes before I'd given the matter any serious thought. Then I got an e-mail about the committee's first meeting and remembered, Oh yeah, I'm an idiot, I signed up for a committee membership. But this committee sounds pretty exciting. It's a committee for professional development and teacher leadership. I'll get a chance to say what kind of PD I think the teachers at the Morton School need and want, what's working for us and what isn't. So I e-mailed Principal X back and said I'd come to the meeting.

I was just glad to be asked, to be honest. I was never asked to be part of anything before in a school. I was asked to do stuff, sure, but never asked to be part of how things get done and what gets done. I've never had any input beyond my own classroom. This is a really good chance for me and I felt happy when Principal X asked me. Yeah, yeah, I know, y'all are making me eat my words about him/her, but I'm happy enough to eat my words if it turns out that I judged wrong. I think s/he really does care what the teachers think. I'm cautiously optimistic and, for whatever insane reason, looking forward to a committee meeting.

Murderers' Row

2009-11-15T12:00:00.000-08:00

I am a Yankee fan, one in a long line in my family. Ever since I've cared about baseball, I've rooted for the boys in pinstripes. My favorites are Derek Jeter and Andy Pettitte. (Especially Andy Pettitte. I love Andy Pettitte. And not just as a pitcher, ifyaknowwhatimean! Wink wink!) I was driven completely to distraction by the World Series this year, staying up long past my bedtime to watch every game. And I felt a warm, hugging satisfaction when they fielded the last hit by the Phils to seal their 27th championship this year. I felt that they deserved it, and not because of the ginormous payroll and baldfaced ambition, but because they learned this year how to play like a team. Even A-Rod, who I never liked, toned down his attitude and pumped up his game. No more Choketober for A-Rod. Nice job. Way to earn that astronomical paycheck.

Anyway, I got to wondering about the Yankees' success rate. The Yankees, more than any other professional sports franchise, makes it their explicit, singular goal, year after year, to win the championship. Period. "Rebuilding" years are not acceptable. Pennants are not enough. Only the World Series will do. The payroll and the attitude go hand-in-hand: We are spending lavishly, ridiculously, far beyond any other team because we want to win. There is nothing else. And it was frustrating to watch the biggest payroll in baseball implode for these past few years, and implode because of divas and egos and a lack of team spirit (and, some years, a lousy bullpen, but the loaded bullpen this year took care of that). So this particular championship was sweet because the rings weren't going to a bunch of jackasses. Well, A-Rod is still kind of a jackass. But I was happy, on the whole, for this group, especially the Core Four who don't have much time left.

So. Enormous payroll. Major superstars. Some of the most storied players in the entire game, going back over 80 years to the Ruth and Gehrig years. And what is the Yankees' success rate, if you count this current championship, after all that?

25 percent.

Which is still higher, by far, than any other team in baseball.

What does this have to do with school? Stay with me here.

Schools want 100 percent success rates for their students. Teachers do, too. Parents do. Certainly 100 percent of students would like to succeed. And anything less than 100 percent is unacceptable, just like anything less than a World Series is unacceptable for the Yankees.

But here's the difference: The Yankees are willing to spend, spend, and spend some more to make it happen. They don't pretend that success is going to come cheap. They will lay out for A-Rod, Sabathia, Jeter, whoever they need to lay out for at whatever price to win. And then they expect to win. It's not that hard.

So why do politicians and, to some extent, taxpayers pretend that education can be done on the cheap? That "throwing money at the problem" doesn't work? I agree that money alone won't buy success in education, but the Yankees know what politicians and eduwonks don't seem to understand: Success isn't going to come cheap.

Education can't be done on the cheap. Let's admit that. Let's admit that cutting corners results in kids left behind. Let's admit that anything less than a Harlem Children's Zone for all children everywhere is going to result in dropouts and failures and frustration. And, most importantly, let's really wake up to the fact that every dollar we don't spend on education--and by this I mean all kinds of education, from universal pre-K to rigorous vocational education to Ph.D.s in astrophysics--is just fifty dollars we'll have to spend on incarceration and welfare some years down the road.

And if you don't believe me, ask the Yankees.

A Teacher-y Teacher

2009-11-04T17:50:00.000-08:00

I recently took on some tutoring work, hoping to make some extra money to travel to Europe with some friends next summer. I didn't want to work per session at the Morton School (I spend enough time there already, and there was nothing available to work with the kids rather than the adults) and I CERTAINLY didn't want to work retail. Tutoring it is.

SHSAT season has kept me pretty busy, and I was meeting with a client this evening. I checked her homework, chatted with her about her school choices and how she's feeling about the test for a few minutes, and then decided on a lesson for the evening.

"Okay," I said. "You did pretty well on the critical reading, and pretty well on the logical reasoning too. But the scrambled paragraphs are still giving you problems. Let's walk back through these few, and then we'll try a few more out of my book here."

She looked at me in amazement. "Wow," she said, "you're, like, a teacher-y teacher."

I laughed. "What do you mean?"

"You're, like, all organized and stuff," she said. "All prepared and everything."

I took it as a compliment and set her to work. But the comment had me smiling to myself for the rest of the night. I never would have dreamed of calling myself "organized" or "prepared" two years ago. I'm not even sure I would go that far on a daily basis these days. But I am pretty proud that I come across as a "teacher-y teacher." I like that a student meets me and feels like they're in the presence of someone who knows what she's doing.

That plus a very positive meeting with my coach today has me feeling excited about school for the first time since the first few days of school. All the changes at the Morton School really got me down for most of September and October. But as it becomes clear that Principal X is going to leave me more or less alone, and as we get into the really meaty units of study, I'm starting to feel happy about going to work again. I'm building a group of kids that likes and trusts me and works hard for me.

Maybe I really am a teacher-y teacher.

With Friends Like These...

2009-11-03T18:37:00.001-08:00

What is with teachers turning on each other?

I was having a chat with a coach at my school the other day, a lovely woman who has taught me almost everything worth knowing about teaching middle school ELA. With all the changes afoot at my school, my department has tried to band together to adapt to the changes the best way we can and support each other in keeping as much of our good work intact as we can. Our coach complimented us on sticking together, lamenting the fact that so many teachers in other grades and departments are selling each other out. One teacher will blame another for not sharing a piece of information. One teacher will rat out another who's not with some particular part of the program. And, in a particularly insidious twist on the old "toss under the bus," teachers are, in the presences of coaches and admins, bragging about how they've done or mastered something that their colleague hasn't.

If you're familiar with the NYC teacher blogosphere, you know about the Ariel Sacks and Matt Polazzo debacles. While I certainly respect Sacks' and Polazzo's rights to express their opinions, I can't say I much care for the way they tore down their colleagues in doing it. I'm not sure I'd want to be one of their colleagues, lest any fear or weakness I confess be fed back to a boss. Most of all, I rarely trust anyone that displays that degree of, well, smugness. If a few years of teaching has taught me anything, it's that fads in education come and go, and you can be on the right side of things one year and the wrong side the next.

There's a way to share what's working, yes. There's a way to celebrate our successes, to show our colleagues what we've done that might be helpful for them. But we shouldn't do it to make ourselves look better to a boss or to save our own skins--we should do it because helping each other is the right thing to do, and because if we all help each other, we'll all pull through.

What Do the "Reformers" Really Care About?

2009-10-27T16:22:00.001-07:00

It would be possible, really it would be, to develop a merit pay plan that most teachers would find fair and tie it into a more rigorous and balanced evaluation system. So imagine that such a plan were proposed by the AFT or the NEA or, God help us, the UFT right here in NYC. And imagine that it were rejected. I wonder what the "reformers" would give as their reason.

Check out this piece at Joanne Jacobs and please do read my comments.

Ariel Sacks Is Right about One Thing, at Least

2009-10-25T18:26:00.001-07:00

Namely, that we as teachers need to have more say in how we are evaluated. I've blogged here about teacher evaluation (here and here) because, let's face it, one formal observation a year doesn't really cut it. And if merit pay is going to happen, I sure as hell don't want it to be based on nothing more than one test that even the most bright, thoughtful, motivated student can blow for little or no reason.

Evaluation shouldn't be something that's "done to" teachers and it shouldn't be a process in which we are at the mercy of one principal or AP. It should be based on a variety of factors that are directly within our control--i.e. not just test scores, but professional development, collaboration with colleagues, curriculum writing/development, contribution to extracurricular activities, tutoring, etc. Any teacher who gets that involved in the life of a school is probably no major disaster in the classroom, anyway. Likewise, teachers who can't be as involved at various times--new baby, health concerns, etc.--but can nevertheless still teach good lessons and help their students should get a pass, too.

A system like this wouldn't just be more flexible, more balanced, more fair--it would be much harder to "game," either by those (very few) truly lazy and incompetent teachers or by vindictive principals. A teacher who really busts his or her butt to make the whole school a better place for all kids would be almost impossible to "get rid of"--as well it should be. We should protect those teachers from the winds of change and the whims of circumstance. That truly would be putting children first.

I guess maybe I should get serious about posting more on this subject. I have a lot of thoughts on it. And, as always, I want to hear yours. And, Ariel, if you're back, throw yours in--what would be a fair way to evaluate teachers? What should make up the evaluation pie? And why are people so obsessed with getting rid of "bad" teachers? How many teachers seriously do "read the newspaper all day"? Jeez, my students hate when I put on a movie because I'm guaranteed to make them answer hard questions about it, and I stop the movie every 37 seconds to make them notice something or think about something. I seriously don't buy this epidemic of newspaper-reading. But I digress.

Comment away.

Weeding Out, Part 2

2009-10-20T14:35:00.000-07:00

So I said I'd explain my resistance to THE PROGRAM in this post. So here it is.

THE PROGRAM does not, in my view, prepare students well for high school. It does not acquaint them with a wide body of literature that is widely considered to be excellent. Perhaps worst of all, in my view, kids don't get much of an opportunity to read texts deeply and share understanding of them as a group. And I'll be frank: I just don't like it. I don't like trying to classroom-manage it, I don't like the touchy-feeliness of it, I can't relate to it, I don't agree with philosophical underpinnings, I Just. Don't. Like. It.

Which is why Principal X is kind of driving me crazy right now, because as I get to know him/her a little better, I have to admit that s/he isn't so bad. S/he's backing off some of the micromanagement--possibly, egads, at the behest of our CL--and after a couple of one-on-ones with him/her recently, I've gotten a sense from him/her like s/he really cares about and respects what I'm doing, even if it's not 100% with THE PROGRAM. I was discussing an aspect of my current unit with him/her today and s/he was totally okay with it. I'm not saying I'm ready to become Principal X's number-one fan, but maybe some of my feelings toward him/her really are not personal--they're all bound up in my anxiety about and distaste for THE PROGRAM.

(Also, just a side note: If you're new here, Principal X is not a hermaphrodite--I'm just not identifying his/her gender as a privacy move.)

So what to do now? Swallow my serious misgivings about THE PROGRAM because Principal X might just be a decent human being, or stick to my guns and, so to speak, weed myself out?

Thank heavens I have six or seven months to make up my mind.

Weeding Out

2009-10-18T11:07:00.000-07:00

Well, last week was a good week with the kiddies. We're right where I need them to be, now. I'm almost done with a second round of reading assessments and some of the kids have already jumped a level--yay! I had an especially fun lunchtime with the kids on Friday and a restful weekend, so I was, on Sunday, more or less ready to face a new week. Even a meeting that could have been totally soul-sucking this afternoon wasn't so bad.

But.

Have you ever Googled "Teachers College Reading and Writing Project sucks"? I have, in a moment of pique on Sunday afternoon, and came up with this from your friend and mine, Norm Coleman, over at Ed Notes Online: "Weeding Out." I think this may be something of an Ed Notes classic, because it's still quite high in the Google results 2+ years after its initial publication. I suppose my mention of it here speaks for itself, but I'll come right out and say that I feel like I'm weeding myself out. I just don't want to believe in the new program. I know, I know--if I try to leave, even if I find another school that doesn't have this program, leadership changes all the time, and there's nothing stopping a new principal from instituting something else I don't believe in. Which kind of bothers me, too. So I don't know.

I'm really trying to be positive. Hardly anything negative (or positive, really, but no news is good news) has actually been said to me. Principal X really is not a negative, nasty person like some principals are; on the contrary, s/he seems genuinely cordial, pleasant, and not totally unreasonable. I don't want you to think that I'm working for some ogre. Indeed, in some ways, Principal X is actually an improvement over our old principal. So maybe I should, like I said in my last post, "get with the program," because really, if I take the long view, maybe my working life would improve?

But it isn't that simple. At least not the way I see it. In my next post, I'll explain why.

How Long Does It Take to Make 100 Copies?

2009-10-13T14:16:00.000-07:00

If you made them yourself, they would take 10 or 15 minutes. Maybe. And that includes copier warm-up time.

If you have to follow the Morton School's bizarre, micromanaged "copy request" system? 5 school days and counting, kids. Not 5 calendar days. 5 school days. That's 8 calendar days (because of Columbus Day). 5 days AND COUNTING, meaning that the copies I requested a week ago today are not ready yet.

Already one set is irrelevant. Pretty soon, the others will be too. I would go ahead and remove them from the copy request folder, except, um, the copy request folder has disappeared. That's right! IT'S GONE. I suspect it's in the trunk of Principal X's car.

*commences ritual head-banging*

I'm Not with the Program

2009-10-12T15:33:00.000-07:00

The messages I’m getting at work are so unclear, and I have half a mind to “turn myself in” to Principal X. I would like to sit down and admit to Principal X, I am not with your program. If you didn’t know before, you know now, and I just want to know what you want me to do so I don’t get fired.

The school year is now over a month old. Maybe Principal X doesn’t know I’m not with the program—that’s one possibility. Principals have many responsibilities, and one teacher at the Morton School, particularly one who shows up and controls her class every day and has pretty bulletin boards out in the hall, may simply not command much of a principal’s attention. Then again, Principal X has my fabled curriculum map. I know this is true because, during a chat, I saw him/her looking at it. So, presumably, Principal X knows that I’m not with the program. That’s one possibility. And that has two sub-possibilities. One is that Principal X knows and doesn’t care. The other is that Principal X does know, and does care, but hasn’t done anything about it yet. And THAT has two sub-possibilities: That Principal X won’t do anything about it, ever, or that Principal X will.

It’s that very last one that has me worried. I’m pretty angsted out about work right now, in case you can’t tell, and I’m angry because I seem to be so anxiety-ridden for all the wrong reasons. The kids? Fine. Nice. Sweet. Most of them working hard. More or less as under control as thirty thirteen-year-olds are going to be. I’m teaching them stuff, I’m pretty much where I’m supposed to be. But EVERYTHING ELSE has me biting my nails. You would think that the kids really constitute the vast majority of THE JOB, and that should be the case, but it isn’t.

I’m afraid to request copies of anything because I’m afraid I’ll have tipped off Principal X to my not being with the program. I mean, Principal X reads EVERYTHING that’s submitted for copying. Reads it, I mean reads every word. Principal X won’t allow something to be copied if s/he does not like it. S/he will simply give it back to you and “suggest” another way of doing it. This means that I’m sneaking around getting copies made however I can and winging the rest.

And that’s not the least of my problems. I felt so confident and happy about my curriculum, but now I feel like I have to tear it down and start over again. Except I can’t. The ball is already rolling. I sent home the damn thing to the kids and their families on the first day of school. I’m already halfway through my second unit. And this current unit is very much NOT with the program. The next two units will more or less be with the program, but I’ve got to stay under the radar for maybe three more weeks. And really, why should I have to tear it down and start all over again? If this was not acceptable, I should have been told in June, when I submitted my curriculum map. I should have been given something else and told that I HAD to do it that way. I wasn’t.

And all this makes me angry because I am not a bad teacher and this is not bad material. These are solid, engaging, absorbing lessons with lots of real-world connections and deep thinking for the kids to do. I’m really big on challenging the kids. We had a couple of really excellent periods last week, lots of discussion and digging deep (literally…I wish I could tell you more!) into the material. But it’s not, well, “with the program,” as I keep saying. And it makes me angry that I feel like I have to hide this good work.

Well, if you want good news, read NYC Educator. I’m trying to keep my guestblogs over there light and funny. This is my deep dark corner where I can rant about what’s pissing me off. Sorry, I guess.

Reform Fatigue

2009-10-06T15:38:00.001-07:00

I said pretty much what I wanted to say in my comment in response to this post over at Bridging Differences, an absolutely brilliant blog that you all should be reading if you're not already. Deborah Meier and Diane Ravitch demonstrate above all that two intelligent people can hold a debate that is both lively and respectful, divergent and intellectually useful. But this post in particular helps to explain a little bit why "reform" is not as fun as it sounds. Please read all the comments (not just mine) to get a sense of why this post might be speaking to me, and certainly others, right now.

"Please Implement As Per Memo"

2009-10-04T08:26:00.000-07:00

When you read a directive such as the above, you naturally look for the memo, right?

Of course, you know what's coming here...

THERE'S NO MEMO.

*bangs head against wall again*

Tip: Tell a Teacher When You Plan to Assign a Coverage to Him/Her...

2009-10-02T14:28:00.001-07:00

...instead of just hoping she GUESSES that she has a coverage and GUESSES which teacher she's supposed to show up for.

Then, when teacher guesses WRONG, do NOT yell at her.

Just a fun, handy tip!!!

*bangs head against wall*

The 14th Day of School

2009-09-29T13:30:00.000-07:00

Since October is less than 2 days away, I have to remind myself that today was only the 14th day of school. I was looking at my monthly planner today and despairing at the number of occasions on which I've had to move days back, and back, and back again. I feel like I haven't accomplished much of anything.

I know this isn't true. I have reading levels for every kid I teach and each kid has completed a writing assessment. They've already done one major writing piece, I have 2 bulletin boards up, some kids have already read a few books, and I finished my first unit (a mini-unit, but still). I really have accomplished a lot, I know, especially considering that I've done it in 14 school days. It just doesn't seem like enough.

I was supposed to start a unit today, but I didn't, and I don't think I'll be able to start it tomorrow either. All the assessing and goal-setting takes a long time. It's not even so much that I'm complaining, just that I worry that my "superiors" won't understand. I feel like I'm the last teacher in the building still doing this stuff although I know, intellectually, I'm probably not.

Anyone else finding it hard to get underway? Also, for those of you who are more experienced than I, does it seem like I'm taking too long to do this stuff?

My Goal for This Year Is to Avoid Running Screaming from the Principal's Office

2009-09-26T10:04:00.000-07:00

Really, a teacher blog about goals pretty much writes itself. All I have to do is say (type) the word and I can hear thousands of heads banging against chalkboards and keyboards. I actually don't mind the goal-setting business so much--I really do think children need to take more responsibility for their own learning, even at young ages, and goal-setting can be a way to help them do it. But, well, take my darling principal. This week, Principal X, as s/he shall be known, got wind of my planned goal-setting activity--I dare not specify how as to avoid revealing my whereabouts and circumstances. But s/he did, and decided to bring me in for a little chat. This chat revealed to me and reminded me of a few things:

Any reasonably good idea in education can swiftly turn into a bad one when it is imposed and micromanaged rather than discussed, collaborated upon, and gradually implemented;
Principal X is managing from a place of fear and domination, rather than experience and wisdom, and I need to be patient with him/her and maintain faith in my own competence and leadership in my own classroom;
Trying to satisfy yourself will always be more satisfactory than trying to satisfy others.

I'd rather not reveal the specifics of our chat, but I will say that it has ended up creating more work and more headaches for me, and less time actually interacting with the material I would like to teach for my children. Commenters here have helped me to accept this as being more or less inevitable.

Principal X doesn't seem to understand that his/her management style is not making teachers come around. What it is making us do is become more secretive about what is actually happening in our classroom, more resentful, less productive, and less compassionate with the children. I'm really trying to cultivate compassion for what s/he must be going through, but I don't think it's uncharitable to assume that most of my colleagues are focusing on what a pain in the ass s/he is making their work. And when they're feeling that way, they don't have the capacity to be compassionate with the children as much, which is certainly not good for them--our real bosses, as I said in one of my NYCEducator posts this week.

So back to goal setting. Mine is to not let my annoyance with Principal X get in the way of loving and teaching the children, though that's certainly not the kind of thing I'd share in a "professional conversation." And as far as teaching goal-setting, well, I'm trying to look at it this way: Doing it Principal X's way will keep him/her at least temporarily sated and off my back, and at least, won't harm the children. So I'm going to do it Principal X's way. If I lose a period to doing something I consider not entirely productive, well, I lose whole periods to things I already consider even less productive.

And maybe one more goal of mine is to keep an eye out for a different school, but only one eye, and only from time to time, so that my eyes don't leave the children I already don't get to "watch" for very long.

Square Peg in a Round Hole

2009-09-22T14:21:00.001-07:00

The message could not be clearer that the tide is turning at my school. It was made official, plain and clear to me today. There is no discussion, no PD, no training, no variation. Everyone get on the bus.

I'm depressed about work in a way that I've never been before. My first year or two were rough, but everyone's are, and I was sustained by the thought that I was still learning, I was getting better, and no one really expected me to work miracles overnight. That's not to say I never felt stressed or pressured--I certainly did--but it all seemed to come with an air of this-too-shall-pass, gotta-crawl-before-you-walk to it. Now that I have my act together, now that I've worked very hard to be a halfway decent teacher, I'm being told that it isn't good enough. Not only is it not good enough, but it's entirely wrong and I have to tear it all down and start over again yesterday.

Now is not the time to tell me this. June was the time to tell me this. June was the time to tell me that the curriculum calendar I completed and submitted for this school year in June would not be acceptable. June was the time to hand me a pacing calendar or a binder or something and explain to me what to do with it, send me to some training, give me a book, something. June was the time to make it crystal-clear that there was one right way to do things and here is that way. I might not have liked it, I might not have agreed with it, and I might have looked for a new job over the summer, but at least I couldn't say I wasn't warned. At least I could have come into this school year with a curriculum calendar that was acceptable and not worry about planning something new in the middle of also trying to just grade papers, plan some new lessons, and keep my head above water in general.

This is not okay. I wouldn't do this to kids. "Get with the program" is not an acceptable thing to tell me or anyone right now, not me or my colleagues who are having their lessons interrupted (yes!) to be told more nonsense top-down directives in front of the children.

I can go on Open Market next year and find someplace that's more suited to my philosophy and methodology, or at least someplace that won't spring a brand-new curriculum and way of doing things on me the day before school starts. But I have to get through this year first. And if I don't stop doing all this bitching and start focusing on the kids, even that much won't happen.

Rant over.

Everything in Moderation

2009-09-19T04:01:00.000-07:00

So I was pretty blue when I posted here yesterday and I don't think I really thought through my position as much as I should have. I didn't try very hard to understand my colleague's position. Selfish as it might sound, I still don't like feeling like I've lost a friend and that there's one more person in my building that I have to "watch what I say" around, but that is, I suppose, the way it is.

And it's also possible that I'm blaming her for things that aren't really her fault. I had a wonderful year completely planned for myself and my students. I had routines and procedures that worked for me and my classroom. I had books that I loved to share and activities that were effective. And I feel like it's all going to be taken from me the first time I forget to nod and smile at anything my principal says. That's not her fault and I'm projecting frustration with our supervisor onto her, I suppose.

I could, I think, get with my principal's program, or at least parts of it, if I didn't feel like it was being forced on us with no training, no context, and no explanation. We are far from a failing school. Our building is cheerful and clean; test scores are high; children and parents are mostly happy. Why fix what isn't broken? I grant that my principal knows more, certainly, about what's going on behind the curtain than I do, but it doesn't stand to follow that there's SO much more than we can be told. SOME explanation is in order.

I'm glad now that I took the opportunity to moderate my black mood from yesterday. Thanks to the tough and critical commenters who made me think about things in a different light and clarify what I was trying to say.

Like George Washington or Lady Gaga

2009-09-18T15:15:00.000-07:00

My students have been studying the Federalists. Today, one girl asked me what the word "iconoclastic" meant. She found it in a prep book for SHSATs.

I said that it described someone who defies conventions, who blazes a trail with their new and sometimes unsettling beliefs.

"You know," I said, "like George Washington. Or Lady Gaga."

She nodded thoughtfully.

Then I realized that I had put George Washington and Lady Gaga in the same sentence.

Going Over to the Dark Side

2009-09-18T14:19:00.000-07:00

Nothing I have to say about my principal would surprise anyone. This person is going through the motions that I understand most principals anymore go through: micromanaging everything, changing what doesn't need to be changed, ignoring input from teachers, and steamrolling out a whole bunch of new programs and initiatives with no training or discussion. I could tell you a few grimly funny anecdotes, but if I think of the thing that truly makes me sad, it's not about the principal at all. No, this is about a colleague.

This colleague and I have been working closely together, for various reasons, for a few years now. She is a bright, funny gal, and terrifyingly ambitious. I knew she was thinking about getting an admin license, and I would always joke with her about her becoming my boss, never, I suppose, really imagining what such a thing would be like.

But overnight, she has become an administrative intern, and just like that, our work-friendship is over. She backs up everything the principal says and does, even privately. If I joke or complain about some new policy, she just says, "Well, that's the way the principal wants it. You better do it." She's never around for lunch or common preps; she's always in the office doing the principal's bidding. She has truly gone to the dark side.

It makes me sad that someone with whom I laughed and struggled for so long is no longer the equal I remember. I have to assume that she is now firmly in the principal's pocket and quite possibly telling the principal anything anyone says, and that the days of commiserating and happy-hour-ing are probably over.

Another of my favorite colleagues is leaving letters to school districts in Westchester and Long Island in open view on her desk.

What is going on?

From My Cold Dead Hands

2009-09-17T13:58:00.000-07:00

When I started teaching at the school at which I still work, my grade was brand-new to the school. In terms of curriculum, I was given two enormous binders, one from Teachers College and one from America's Choice, but it was stressed to me that they were only "suggestions" and "resources." I had no idea what to do with either of these binders, so I simply ignored them. When I made up the curriculum from scratch as I went along, no one seemed to mind.

I will admit, of course, that this is hardly an ideal way to do long-range planning. I was a newbie then--a real newbie--and I knew jack-squat about curriculum mapping and backwards planning and only slightly more about writing lesson plans. I learned, of course--I looked at sample curriculum maps online, worked with my colleagues, learned what students did in earlier grades at my school and what students did in my same grade at other schools.

Out of this process came the most treasured document in all of my great repository of lesson plans, memos, charts, journals, and cocktail napkins: My curriculum map. It is a thing of great beauty. It is organized by month and by week. It has been de-spiral-ized, meaning that I felt free to throw out the ubiquitous "poetry book" project because every other teacher in every other grade has made kids do poetry books, and by the time they get to my grade, they are well nigh sick of poetry books. It has been backwards-planned Grant Wiggins-style. It is aligned to state standards. It kicks not a small amount of ass. I love it, I refer to it constantly, I stick to it. Like Charlton Heston's gun, you could take my curriculum map away when you could pry it from my cold, dead hands.

Except...oh, how I fear the worst for my beautiful curriculum map. Its days are numbered. An informal chat with my principal today about an entirely unrelated subject led me to begin to fear for my curriculum map. I believe I am going to be forced into an unholy three-way marriage with the new "Core Curriculum" and its thematic units (thanks for all the notice and PD I didn't get on this, btw, DOE) and motherplucking Teachers College. If not this year--if, by some small holy chance, I can squeak through this year with my rich, deep, funky, unique curriculum intact--then most certainly next year.

Those of you who know that I'm a fan of Core Knowledge might be surprised to hear that I'm so resistant to a uniform curriculum. My response would be that I would buy into a Core Knowledge curriculum so fast it would make your head spin. But this TC nonsense that's about to get shoved down my throat? No thanks. I built a curriculum for my classes myself, from scratch, and as a result I know it intimately, believe in it, and can defend every single thing I teach. As they say, I have ownership of it.

I have no ownership in this nonsense. Already I have been told that I have to throw out one of my units entirely to make way for a TEST PREP UNIT in April, gag me with a machete. The thought of doing all test prep all the time for a month makes me want to quite literally cry, considering that April could have been spent doing some deep, serious literature.

If my curriculum map's days are numbered, I suspect that my own days are numbered as well. I don't mind following someone else's map as long as it's one I can believe in. But I can't believe in this. And I don't think my principal will understand, respect, or accommodate that even a little.

Lucky, Black Enterprise, and Fighting Over "The One With Obama in It!!!"

2009-09-11T13:16:00.000-07:00

Hope everyone had as delightful of a first week back as I did! Well, "delightful" if I focus on the kids, which is precisely what I'm choosing to do. I have great groups, I really do--sweet and funny and ready to work. I've spoken to most of their parents already, as per NYC Educator's advice, and most of them were very pleasant and receptive. In those terms, at the very least, I had a fully gratifying first week.

I just had to blog about what happened this afternoon during independent reading. The kids restored my faith in humanity. I asked them to bring in some magazines to supplement our classroom library. Some of my favorite reactions:

1.) "I don't like Lucky [a magazine about shopping and fashion]. It's all just ladies standing around in they bikinis."

2.) "I like this magazine. [Student points to Black Enterprise, a business magazine aimed at African-Americans.] It shows that black people aren't just interested in being rappers and athletes."

3.) [Two boys fighting over an issue of Scholastic News] "I want the one with Obama in it!!! I had it first!"

Seems like they have their priorities in order.

Good Luck Tomorrow

2009-09-08T19:45:00.000-07:00

No fancy way to say this, so I'll just say it...

All the best to all my colleagues, readers, and friends--the ones I've met and the ones I haven't. I hope for every success for all of you and your students this year. I'm excited to meet my new students tomorrow, to start being a teacher again. Summer vacation is nice and all--and, as I've said before, you'll pry it from my cold dead hands!--but I'm more than ready to hit the ground running tomorrow.

May PDs be brief and painless, may parents be understanding, may kids be funny and sweet (and compliant), may unannounced observations be rare, a happy school year to all and to all a good night.

An Auspicious Day

2009-09-04T16:44:00.000-07:00

According to our Jewish and Chinese friends:

http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/04/090909-an-auspicious-start-to-school/

I knew that 9 was considered auspicious in China and was planning to share this fact with my students on the first day anyway, but the article in the Times might be an even better thing to have. I could make copies and we could do a little activity with it.

Hope this is a good sign! I was lesson planning today and I'm so very excited. Now, a long weekend full of staycationing fun in the city and upstate awaits me. Enjoy this one!

I Got Picked Up by GothamSchools!

2009-09-03T19:16:00.001-07:00

Woot woot! In the "Remainders" section, all the way down:

http://gothamschools.org/2009/09/03/remainders-obamas-back-to-school-speech-igniting-conflict/

Another day of classroom setup. I'm finished enough that I think I'm going to have myself a four-day weekend. It's looking like a very happy and cozy place.

The Ego Book

2009-09-02T17:36:00.000-07:00

I went back to school today to start getting my classroom ready. Not all of my colleagues came today, and the ones who did came in several hours after I did, so I had a few hours of total solitude to begin unpacking.

Towards the end of the year, I took a number of letters, cards, pictures, and the like given to my by students over the past few years and asked one of our school aides to laminate them for me. (The poor woman was laminating everything in my room that wasn't nailed down anyway.) I never cut apart the laminating film or anything after she gave them back to me, just rolled them up and put them in my closet, because I was running out of June by then.

Today, I cut them all apart and put them in a nice pile, and reread them. One of my favorites was from a student of mine from two years ago whom I'll call Jasmine. I would never have forgotten this letter from Jasmine even if I hadn't had it laminated. The letter goes something like this (paraphrasing):

Dear Miss Eyre:

Do you remember that day that Mrs. Brocklehurst yelled at me and made me cry because I forgot my notebook? I was so upset that I came and ate lunch in your room. You said I should tell the nurse I was sick and I should go home. I went home and I felt better later that day. Thank you for caring about me.

Love,
Jasmine

I don't know if I should feel particularly proud that this student remembers me so fondly for encouraging her to fib to the school nurse, but this letter always makes me smile.

Anyway, I have this collection of lovely notes from former students, and I'd like to put them together in a binder or a photo album. I hope it doesn't smack too much of an "ego book" type thing.

I also had fun decorating my room today with a few mementoes from last year's students, silly little things mostly, the kinds of things they probably expected me to throw out--art projects they gave me, paper flowers, snapshots from field trips. I've tried to save a few things from each school year. Last year's objets d'arts in particular bring back beautifully sweet memories.

It was a nice way to start preparations for the new year.

A Modest Proposal Part 2: Intervisitation and Peer Colleague Professional Development Working Groups as Components of Teacher Evaluation

2009-09-01T06:06:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the issue of teacher evaluation much more than I've been writing about it. It has not left my mind. I recently earned tenure, and I'm very proud of making it through the Fellowship, sticking around for another year to get tenure, and coming back to do it all again. That's all well and good. But I'm not persuaded that I'm now as good as I'm ever going to be as a teacher; this year, I plan to be much better than I was last year. But here's the problem: What constitutes "good," "better," or "best" for teachers? Can it be measured and evaluated? I think it can, and it can be measured more precisely and meaningfully than it is now. In my last post on this issue, I suggested peer review as one component. Another component of how to evaluate teachers might be through intervisitation and professional development working groups.

I recently read Why Don't Students Like School? by Daniel T. Willingham, a book I would recommend for any number of reasons, but I'll focus briefly on Willingham's suggestions for improving pedagogy. He suggests videotaping yourself teaching (augh!, I mean, still a good idea, but AUGH!), observing other teachers at work, and meeting with this partner or small group of "critical friends" to discuss what's going on. (Note the absence of an administrator in this equation. I like it!) These strike me as sound and sensible ideas. I really enjoy intervisitation, and I'm lucky to have a few colleagues who have warmly encouraged me in visiting their classes. Heck, even when I ended up substituting for an elementary class during The Great Swine Flu Panic of May '09, I learned a lot by poking around my colleague's classroom.

Willingham's suggestions aren't exactly new, but they do matter in two important ways. One is his own inclusion of his tips in his book on brain science and pedagogy. His message is that teachers think and make decisions so constantly and, as such, contrary perhaps to what some people believe, teaching children is an intellectually lively and challenging pursuit. We as much as the children need to monitor our own thinking and reflect on what we are doing in the classroom to critically engage with our actions and square them up with what we think and know.

The other is what he doesn't say in the book, but what I'm going to suggest here: The ways in which we seek to learn more about our practice, specifically through working with peer colleagues, can be a component of teacher evaluation. Attending professional development workshops is fine, and the better ones can certainly be helpful (sometimes they feed you and give you free stuff, for example), but there is no substitute for working with peer colleagues. These are the people who work with the same administration in the same building at the same time as you do. They teach, have taught, or will teach some or all of your same students. Thus their experience and feedback will match up most closely with what you need to be thinking about and doing in your own classroom. We can all think of one or two or a hundred workshops that were perhaps well-intentioned, but not exactly positioned to be of immediate and real value to our own classrooms. Intervisitation and peer colleague professional development working groups, on the other hand, do serve that purpose.

How could they be used as a component of teacher evaluation? A journal or log of meetings may be kept, or the group could form one or two particular goals at the beginning of a term or year and observe how each member is working towards those goals, or the group could form recommendations for each other based on what they see. Or, GADZOOKS, teachers could themselves discuss and resolve towards how they will use their work to evaluate themselves and each other. (I know. Letting teachers make decisions about how they will be evaluated sounds very scary. Hold on. It'll be okay.)

Of course, we're all seeing one immediate drawback: When, exactly, are we supposed to do this? Our vast reserves of free time? Well, this criticism is spot-on, of course. Three Standard Deviations to the Left had a great post on this issue recently, observing how few hours teachers in the U.S. have to plan and collaborate as compared to other nations. Mrs. Bluebird also mentioned that when she and her colleagues were actually given, in the school day, more time just for planning, lo and behold! their students showed improvement. I'll admit that, other than saying, "Well, we need more planning time," I don't know how to solve that problem. We do need more planning time. But proposals to lengthen the school day are currently coming with more instructional time and no extra money. That, frankly, is kind of a problem for me. My kiddies are already wastes of space by 3 p.m. If a longer school day came with more planning and collaborative time, and more breathing space for the kiddies, and, oh, I don't know, maybe a dab more money, I might get behind it. But more instructional time? I think most teachers are already spread pretty thin in that sense. And, as NYC teachers, let's not lose sight of the fact that in some states, teachers are carrying even heavier course and student loads than even our contractual maximums.

That's the crux of the biscuit for any kind of teacher evaluation reform, incidentally. I believe the best, most meaningful, most effective reforms will come from teachers working together, reflecting, and supporting each other. But we need time to do that, and lots of it. No surprise, then, that most teacher evaluation reform ideas are top-down, computerized, checklist-type things rather than holistic and engaging processes for teachers.

Nevertheless, I plan to soldier on with this idea. My guestblogging over at NYC Educator is going to two days a week for the fall, but I think I'll keep these thoughts on my own blog.

Oh yeah, school starts again soon, right? (Kidding.) I suppose I should post about that, too. Maybe tomorrow.

A Modest Proposal: Peer Review as One Component of Evaluation for Teachers

2009-07-30T15:33:00.000-07:00

*I originally wrote about this as a comment on the Core Knowledge blog, one of those blogs you should be reading if you're not already.

One of the biggest complaints about teachers is tenure, folks, right? "Lifetime job security." "You can't get rid of the bad ones." This is a small beef of mine. On one hand, some of the detractors are at least kind of right--it can take a long time to fire even a patently, obviously terrible teacher, by which I chiefly mean a teacher who poses a physical and/or sexual danger to children. That person can be removed from the classroom quickly--hola, rubber rooms!--but actually fired, yes, that can take a long time. And that's crazy. Be assured that no one here is an apologist for people who hurt children.

But I would like to defend the idea of tenure despite its faults. Tenure is supposed to mean, above all, academic and intellectual freedom. This should mean that teachers are free to speak truth to power, to defend unpopular ideas, to elevate the pursuit of knowledge above all else. Sometimes I have to remind myself that that is my actual job, but, you know, I guess it still is, even these days. This should mean that teachers are protected against firing because, for example, they hate TCRWP (not that I am referring to myself here or anything) or Everyday Math. This should mean that if a teacher wants to do something unpopular or out-of-fashion that is nevertheless effective for him/her and his/her students, he or she should be able to do that without fear of losing the job. Since people always want to compare teachers to doctors and lawyers, imagine that a fancy new drug has come along that lowers fevers. It seems like a pretty good drug, but it's $50/dose. A doctor wants to continue to prescribe Tylenol because it's 5 bucks a bottle and does the same job. But the doctor's bosses think the $50/dose drug is better, so they fire the doctor. If that doctor had tenure, he or she wouldn't have been fired. That, to me, is how tenure should work.

Tenure should not mean that if you are bad at your job, you should stick around anyway, just 'cause it's too much of a hassle to fire you. A lot of people think that's what it means. Maybe, in some cases, that is what it means. But let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Let's think of some constructive ways that we can keep tenure in its purest form--as a crucial protection for otherwise good teachers who are simply on the "wrong" (read: unpopular) side of certain issues--and prevent it from protecting those who maybe should find another line of work.

First, tenure should not be automatically granted. Detractors will point to statistics suggesting that in NYC, I believe 97% of probationers are granted tenure. Well, if we go with Norm's estimates, that still means that some lousy teachers get tenure. To me, this is the fault of lazy administrators and should not be blamed on the other, hard-working teachers out there, but whatever--there you have it. A more rigorous evaluation system for probationers and tenured teachers would help this system, but primarily for probationers. You want to extend the probationary period? Do it. A good teacher is only going to be better after four or five years. I think that's pretty reasonable.

Second, maybe we need a more rigorous evaluation system for teachers. I have quite a few ideas on this (CONSULTING FIRMS: I CAN HAZ GREAT BIG PAYCHECK?), but the one I want to focus on today is the idea of peer review. Peer review can be part of a more rigorous evaulation system. But it has its pitfalls too, right? I mean, imagine a teacher who's being a thorn in the side of a faculty that has, for the most part, chosen to roll over and play dead for their administration. Peer review? For this teacher? Forget it. He or she could be Frank McCourt (not that HE'D last long in BloomKlein's DOE, but never mind) and still get a lousy review. No, we need a better way. Here it is: JURY DUTY!

What? Jury duty? Yes. You get called for jury duty, right? Your principal HAS to let you leave work for the day and go on down to the courthouse, and unless you can wiggle your way out of it, you spend a day or two hearing a case and rendering a verdict. Peer review for teachers could work the same way. A pool would be formed across a reasonable geographic area--in NYC, it could be district-wide or maybe borough-wide. This pool would be comprised of a good assortment of teachers--let's say each school would be mandated to provide a certain number based on their size, chosen by SLT or maybe by a chapter election. Then, out of that pool, teachers would be pulled, at random, for a day or two here and there, or maybe a week at a time, to observe teachers they don't know in other schools. (For those of you who are appalled at the idea of teachers being out of the classroom for this long, to you I say: Please figure out a way to have me not have to go and grade the state ELA exam for a week ever again, either.)

For schools with overburdened admins, this is a blessing. Teachers could be observed more often. And for teachers, I don't see how this isn't a win. You're being observed by someone who is much more in touch with day-to-day reality in the classroom. You're probably more likely to accept constructive criticism from a peer and, conversely, praise means more from a peer as well. And for those who go on "jury duty," they get the benefit of "intervisitation" with their class covered for a whole day--they can see what other teachers are doing well and identify good points they can take back to their own practice.

This could be part of a more rigorous evaluation process for teachers. Part. But what about other stuff? Like administrative observations and test scores and student evaluations and parent evaluations and committees of other peers in one's own school? Mmmmmm...I smell a series...

It's the Teachers, Stupid...Right?

2009-07-28T07:10:00.000-07:00

Well, if this is what Pulitzer Prize-winning journalism looks like, apparently the Pulitzer folks have fairly low standards.

I'm very tired of the myth that schools are bursting at the seams with apathetic, unskilled, surly, child-hating losers who can't get jobs doing anything else. I recently figured that, counting high school and college where one encounters many teachers in the course of a year, I had well over 100 teachers in my lifetime, and I can only say that one or two truly had no place being in a classroom. That means that my satisfaction with my education overall, if it was based solely on the quality of my teachers, would be over 99%. And I went to a large, comprehensive, public high school with a substantial population of students in poverty, so I think it's safe to say that my experience is not atypical.

I know I'm just one person. But I've also made teaching my career, and I can say with some certainty that even high-poverty schools in New York City are not overburdened with terrible teachers. I've seen some teachers who don't do things the way I'd do them. I've seen some teachers--a lot of teachers, actually--who are young, inexperienced, naive, and tentative. That group once included me, after all. And, yes, particularly when I was out scoring the ELA exam, I saw a couple of teachers who were perhaps not quite right for this particular line of work. But are there hordes of lousy teachers who need to be gone yesterday? I was sold that myth when I joined the Fellowship, but I don't believe it anymore. I've met way too many teachers who tried every fad that came around the block and eventually rejected them all because they knew that what they did worked for their kids. I've met way too many teachers who have been at this for a long time and still do professional development and retool curricula all summer because they want to be better. I've met way too many teachers who spend hours on the phone with parents and tutoring kids, and too much of their own money on books and supplies in the hopes of reaching a few more kids.

Here's the kicker: The article I linked above wants to blame unions for low pay and low motivation for excellence among teachers. Tell me some local governments wouldn't pay teachers minimum wage if they thought they could get away with it these days! I get what he's trying to say, in part: Low pay and low prestige doesn't attract the "best and brightest." And while I certainly wouldn't mind getting paid more, it bothers me that people think there are no "best and brightest" in the teaching corps. I could tell you my college and grad school GPAs and my GRE scores, awards I won and honor societies I belonged to, but I could also tell you that I'm not alone. I know a great many very bright teachers. We'd like to get paid more, sure. But I'm not sure that trying to attract the same bozos who sold exploding-ARM mortgages to poor people into teaching is the answer, either.

Robert Pondiscio at Core Knowledge and some other bloggers are starting to spread the message that the myth of great unwashed masses of lousy teachers is just that: a myth. I want to be part of spreading that message, too, though I suppose the best way to spread it is to come back in the fall as an even better teacher.

Index of My Guestblogs at NYC Educator

2009-07-28T07:02:00.000-07:00

Hi friends!

All my blogging energy (until today) has been going into my guestblogs at NYC Educator. For the summer, I've been blogging with the new teacher in mind in a series called "What No One Will Tell You When You Come to Work at the DOE," focused around practical tips and tricks on day-to-day survival in the classroom. In my first year of teaching as a New York City Teaching Fellow, I had a very fine professor who told me something I never forgot: "In your first year," he said, "it's fine that your goal should be to just survive. You're not going to be a great teacher yet. It's just not going to happen. If you make it to June feeling like you have just enough energy and commitment to try again in September, you've already beaten a lot of people who burn themselves out in less than a year and quit." That was fine advice. I hope my newbie friends take it.

Future installments will deal with family and home relations, collegial relations, and the particular vagaries of the NYCD/BOE.

Here's an index of my guestblogs thus far:

Classroom Setup

Planning Your First Lessons

Classroom Management

Discipline

Assessment

This Week's Guestblog at NYC Educator

2009-07-01T09:54:00.000-07:00

Check it out! This week: Planning Your First Lessons.

"Yo, Later" to All That: Why I Love Summer Vacation But Hate Missing the Kids

2009-06-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

So the 2008-09 school year finally ended. I say "finally," but I didn't start counting the days until after spring break, and I didn't get REALLY antsy until the last week of May or the first week of June. I have friends who teach in other areas, and seeing them go on summer break so much earlier started getting annoying. Still, on Friday, it was our turn.

I will say, about summer vacation, that you will pry it from my cold, dead hands. While I agree that low SES children absolutely need more academic, cultural, and physical enrichment over the summer, I do not agree that more plain old school is what's needed. They need the kind of summer camps, sports teams, arts programs, and the like that middle- and upper-class children have access to for free or very low cost. There is also the issue of time for simple rest and play that all children--I would venture to say all adults, even--need. My non-teacher friends often complain that teachers should not be "special" among working professionals in the amount of time we get off, but to me, this is a reductivist race to the bottom. Why not work for more vacation time for ALL workers, not less for teachers? Tell me, if you're not a teacher, that you wouldn't like more than 2 weeks and a handful of holidays off year. Of course you would.

Anyway. Summer vacation. I have a long list of plans that I already summed up on NYC Educator, so I won't recap them here, but I'm very excited. I like to think that I spend summer vacation doing all kinds of cultural and intellectual things so that I'm a better teacher in the fall; that as I become a more complete and enriched human being, I will be a happier, more confident, more secure person in front of a classroom. (Oops, did I say "in front"? My bad. I know I'm supposed to be a "guide on the side" and all that. Except I don't really dig being a guide on the side.)

Saying goodbye to the kids, though...that was hard. Harder than I thought it would be. I taught an extraordinary group of kids this year and I got pretty attached to them. It's the first year that I felt like I did the kids more good than harm, and I feel like I saw actual growth in some of them that I could take partial credit for. (Partial, though--any kid who does anything has to learn to thank himself or herself for taking that first step and caring to do better.) I learned how to have the right kind of "relationship" with the kids this year; I feel like I could show them that I liked them and cared about them without being their "friend," so to speak. I had a lot of fun with them in the classroom and on their trips and other activities. I feel that, if they availed themselves of the instruction and other opportunities I provided, they should be ready for high school and beyond.

And this was the group that reassured me that I can teach, because I was pretty close to quitting last year. I worked really hard last summer to make sure I was ready to do a better job, and they met me halfway and "played along" even with my goofier ideas. They surprised me over and over with how compassionate, insightful, and tough they could be. On at least one occasion I can think of, a very boring assembly, they held their tongues purely as a favor to me. These kids had my back as much as I had theirs, and I told them as much on Friday. I told them it was the best year of my career. And I meant it.

Best of all, they made me believe I could do it all again next year.

Suggestions for "What No One Will Tell You..." Series

2009-06-27T08:44:00.001-07:00

If you read my first guestblog at NYC Educator, you know that my next planned installment is on how to start teaching lessons. I'm a middle school ELA teacher, but I'm going to try to keep it pretty general. I'm a big admirer of Gary Rubinstein's suggestions in The Reluctant Disciplinarian, and much of what I do is based on his advice.

But I'm also soliciting suggestions from all of you. If you're a new teacher, if you know a new teacher, or if you were a new teacher once yourself, please leave a comment for me with any feedback for further installments in the series. I'll give you mad props in the blog post if I like your idea.

Stay tuned for a new entry here on my last day of school.

Guestblogging at NYCEducator

2009-06-23T19:41:00.001-07:00

I'm super excited that, for the foreseeable future, I'll be guestblogging every Wednesday at NYCEducator. I'm working on a series of "advice" pieces for new teachers that are tongue-in-cheek, sarcastic, sassy, and tailor-made for dealing with the strange and wonderful world of the NYCDOE. Please feel free to share this info with your young and newbie friends, and check me out at NYCEducator every Wednesday!

Oh, and if you're not reading NYCEducator EVERY DAY, you should be.

Freedom's Just Another Word for Nothin' Left to Lose

2009-06-22T15:13:00.001-07:00

For all you teachers who have never done something like this, take heed: It is not a good idea to plan a field trip for your middle school students AFTER they have had their graduation ceremony AND their senior trip.

Allow me to elaborate. For months now, threats of being removed from graduation and/or the senior trip have been sufficient to discourage egregiously bad behavior among my little friends. There have been, this year, only two fistfights (both of which involved the same problematic little friend) and no real major classroom disruptions. I attribute this to a combination of a more tranquil and cohesive group of students and my much-improved classroom management. I can count on one hand (okay, maybe two) the number of times I've had to raise my voice this year. I've been able to deal with incidents of whining, sassing, etc. with phone calls and e-mails to parents. I wrote up exactly one kid for detention (the stapler-throwing incident I wrote about here a while back). No removals. No suspensions. And if my own winning manner with the darlings wasn't enough, well, nobody wanted to be left out of graduation or off the trip.

Well. Both are now over. Both were smashing successes with all our little dears on their best behavior. And now the tougher cases in the eighth grade have realized that, as the title of this blog indicates, they have nothing left to lose.

Which brings me to my point: IT IS A BAD IDEA TO TAKE YOUR FRIENDS ON FIELD TRIPS AFTER THIS POINT. I had the pleasure (?) of escorting mine on a trip under just such circumstances. And any threat I could lay out to discourage bad behavior was like a wet noodle. It was a somewhat trying field trip.

It did not help that the individual who planned this trip--which, it is worth noting, was neither myself nor my grade partners, all of whom WOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER--did not apparently take into consideration that this trip was being planned for "seniors" with nothing left to lose. Or that there might be bad weather. Or that, when dealing with middle schoolers, it is always better to order too much food than not enough.

I am planning a longer and more comprehensive post on field trips in the future, but I had to blog about this now before I completely exploded.

Unsatisfactory

2009-06-17T17:56:00.000-07:00

(Not me, before anyone panics. No, I am, at the very least, satisfactory. Now and, with any luck, forever.)

I've been hesitant to blog for a while. There is a lot happening at my school which, I fear, may make it easy for a reader to identify where I am. We have been in the news and the internal DOE gossip for a number of reasons. So I'm going to try to be careful in these next few posts and be even more vague than usual, but it will be difficult. I couldn't take it anymore this afternoon, though.

A colleague spoke to me this afternoon. She is being threatened with a U-rating. She is supporting her family because her husband has been laid off. Her youngest child is going to college next year. She asked me to write something to support her.

Without even thinking, I told her I would. I have had nothing but good experiences with this person. She is a lovely, warm woman who never has an unkind word to say about anyone. And she certainly seems to be, at minimum, competent in her position, though our work is very different and I'm not sure how qualified I am to comment on what she actually does. But she has come through for me in sticky situations and, bless her, she is DISCREET. She does not rat people out. I am rather old-fashioned inasmuch as I value not being tattled on and, in return, I do not tattle. (Unrelated: I was extremely tempted to tattle today when I saw two little children at my school buying sodas in the teachers' cafeteria for their teacher. But I did not tattle.)

I don't know why my superiors are out to get this woman, and I can't even begin to guess. I mean, I have heard rumors that one of the higher-ups thinks she's incompetent. But why, again, I don't exactly know. And even if she is, aren't they supposed to, I don't know, help her out or talk to her first? Has that been done? I don't know.

I don't know what to write, either, and God only knows what kind of effect this will have on my "career." She told me the letter would be anonymous, but we all know what "anonymous" means in the DOE. I don't necessarily buy that--not coming from her, but coming from the DOE. I have to accept that, if I do this, I'm putting at least a bit of my "career" on the line. At minimum, I may have to put myself out on the Open Market next year, though that may be a foregone conclusion anyway (stay tuned for future posts explaining this). Because apparently I have to implicate my superiors in this--at very minimum, support my colleague's statement that she wasn't offered training, assistance, whatever. And, obviously, go against the administration's general thrust of wanting this person gone.

It's a weird way to be ending the year. As far as my kids go (more on this later), I love them dearly and I will cry my eyes out to see them go. And I have gotten to know many of the kids coming up and I'm looking forward to spending the year making new friends with them. That, of course, is exactly the right way to go out as far as the kids are concerned. But the grownups? Things are going way south, way fast. And I'm at a crossroads.

June 26 can't come fast enough.