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FLAP YOUR WINGS!

Flap Your Wings (and maybe stomp your feet a little)! My Editorial on Education

(and btw, I feel like I’ve just been endorsed by John Oliver): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6lyURyVz7k

I have felt overwhelmed countless times in my life. Opening a junk drawer can ruin my day. I would rather show up for class sick than create a lesson plan for a substitute teacher. The thought of writing a whole book nearly paralyzed me. I could not go into a library or bookstore without coming out depressed. What could I write that hadn’t already been written? But I had made a promise.

“Someday I’ll write a book about this year,” I told the first group of 7th graders I ever taught. I didn’t know how or when or what type of book it would be, but every student wanted to be in my book, and I still have the roster with their actual names and the names they wanted me to call them whenever I wrote it.

Although I could not fit over 100 students into my novel and felt a need to create my own names for the amalgamated students I chose to represent, I fulfilled my promise seven years later and donated over $1,200.00 in sale proceeds to a graduating student in my community. I also found my real-world model for the troublesome character “Bernicia” and learned something wonderful.

“Miss?” is fictionalized for obvious reasons, but the realism of Maggie’s first year teaching experience is apparent to all teachers I’ve spoken with about the story. It certainly helped that I kept a daily journal my first year of teaching.

I discovered quickly that they just don’t make schools like they used to.

Today’s public schools are becoming battlegrounds, figuratively and literally, but they don’t need to be that way. Daily, teachers post their frustrations on social media, many who then are written up by their superiors for expressing their feelings. Routinely, citizens become a bit more outraged by the tide of school violence, the recent surge against which we seem to have no power. Companies are developing bullet-proof blankets for students; many suggest arming teachers.

Teacher complaints are well-founded. Much like the companies that will get rich from blanket sales to schools, others are flourishing from quick-fix programs school administrators are eager to employ, and classrooms around the nation are becoming marketplaces. “But wait! There’s more!” . . . and more, and more for teachers to work into their full curricula. They feel besieged. More “professional development” for teachers—on the latest programs—equates to less time doing what they know how to do best: Teach.

“So what’s the answer, Miss?”

Many of my friends, astounded by the picture I’ve painted, have asked me this question after reading my novel. There is no single—no easy answer, no quick-fix, and I do not pretend to have the solution.

Struggling schools face a plethora of challenges daily, and three of the most debilitating I’ve experienced include corrosive work environments, over-testing of students and lack of effective student discipline. Of the three, lack of discipline can be the greatest detractor to success, though potentially it is the easiest problem to remedy.

Ideas on polishing potentially “corrosive work environments”:

Are all teachers great at what they do? Of course not. Neither are all administrators, all CEOs, all parents, all community and government leaders, all students. Nevertheless, the current environment in many districts is suffocating and good teachers are reconsidering their profession. Many factors combine to create harsh work environments in schools—a revolving door of initiatives, lack of communication and trust between peers and supervisors, and lack of community support—and I won’t even address the issue of low pay in many of our most difficult towns.

Teachers are fed up with having to implement the latest program-du-jour with inadequate training or preparation time, and veteran teachers see though the smoke and mirrors of purportedly “new” programs.

“Just wait five years and you’ll see the same things come back,” one retiring elementary school teacher recently told me. “They’ll just give it a new name.” After 45 years of teaching, she should know.

The same is true for instructional standards set for each subject by state departments of education. Weeks have been wasted on reconfiguring curricula to the latest standards that have been tweaked to sound more reasonable, more doable, while the bottom-line expectations remain the same: students must be able to read and write and do ‘rithmetic at more advanced levels each year. Rewording requirements so we have four rather than six for Language Arts standards is a wasteful, frivolous exercise. Teachers know this, and students have never felt the need to fret over the boring banners outlining all they are expected to learn in each classroom.

I recommend that leaders in school districts across the nation step back and take a deep breath the next time they are approached by any agency offering a new program, especially from commercial entities, and consider if the potential benefits are worth the time needed to invest in adequately implementing the program. Consider as well that even if a program has demonstrated success in a small town in Maine, it doesn’t necessarily mean it will deliver the same results in a rural Texas town.

Let me take my recommendation one step further and suggest that school leaders look within their own pool of teachers and staff members before paying outsiders to deliver training and “professional development.” I lost track of teacher hours wasted during my years in public education, hours during which my peers and I felt belittled or treated as if we knew nothing about the students in our care—by people who knew nothing about us nor about our students. We preach differentiation for students, so why not extend the concept to teacher training?

More often than not we sat through information we already knew or could have presented ourselves, with no opportunity to “test out.” A potential stipend or continuing education credits for someone already employed in a school district would do much to improve morale and would cost significantly less than paying a program-pushing agency. If we truly want to develop as professional educators, we should explore every opportunity to develop from within.

School administrators who are ignorant of their internal assets will also undoubtedly struggle with organizational communication, increasing environmental toxicity and destroying morale.

For years I taught my students how to use figurative language elements to give readers a clear picture of what they are trying to express. “Unclear communication is like an outdated road map; it can leave you lost and confused,” I’d say, and some of them even appreciated my simile. The ability to communicate effectively is critical for building effective relationships, and effective relationships inherently require trust between parties. Without an atmosphere of open and honest dialogue in an organization, it is nearly impossible to develop trust between members of that organization.

During my first back-to-school meeting with district staff and faculty in my new school, my boss, who knew about my West Point education and Army background, encouraged me to lead a group activity. That was the start of my involvement with the district instructional leadership team. For two and a half years in that school I collaborated with my peers and those above me on topics ranging from curriculum design to school spirit. I sent weekly emails to all staff members with topic recaps, suggestions and reminders. My peers knew they could share concerns and questions with me and that I would represent them the best I could.

Turning around a corrosive atmosphere in which members believe information is being withheld can be as simple as sending out routine status updates, minimally once per week. To be truly effective as a leader, those you lead must believe that you value them as individuals—a belief worth more than any price tag—and by keeping them “in the loop,” you demonstrate that respect.

Sure, there will be times when closed-door sessions take place, but leaders must still find ways to share even the most difficult conversations in a way that keeps the best interests of the organization in mind. Secrets will always breed contempt and destroy trust among those who feel left out, and we all have witnessed or experienced the wildfire effects of rumors.

What kind of investment is necessary to improve communication within a school district? Time. Even 15 minutes each week dedicated to sending out an update and perhaps even highlighting a success, however small, could start transforming the morale in an organization where employees have felt in-the-dark for too long.

Shawn Achor, author of The Happiness Advantage, demonstrates several examples of organizational leaders who have deflated the mood of otherwise buoyant employees by communicating in a way that inadvertently failed to emphasize anything positive. He reminds us that “Just as important as what you say to employees is how you say it.”1 The premise of The Happiness Advantage is that success follows happiness, not the other way around; it is a book worthy of designing a professional development session around.

Involve local communities to improve the environment in your school district!

Those who are able to participate in community outreach programs should do so. Outreach is vital, especially in school districts with limited funds, and the most creative school leaders find ways to expose students to the world outside their classrooms before launching them into that world with a handshake and a piece of paper.

Local businesses were delighted to open their doors to my students for field trips and writing opportunities and the local newspaper welcomed articles and pictures of those free fieldtrips.

Leaders must be available to serve and support others in their community in order to build trust and unity of vision, and community members need to get to know our students if we hope to have them share our vision of success as well. Exploring opportunities for visits, internships and community service would cost only an investment of time—and the rewards would be invaluable.

Leaders and teachers owe it to their students to develop relationships with community members in an effort to realize a shared vision of growth and success for all members of their district. Ultimately, schools in which community involvement is valued will be more successful, and a school’s success, in turn, will improve the whole community.

Assess, yes, but in moderation.

A school district that fails to assess its students is like a proctologist whose magic wand explores the wrong end; both will lack the vital information necessary to improve the lives of those in their care. Now more than ever our students must understand that their public education is designed to prepare them for a workforce increasingly geared toward employing those with education beyond high school. Regardless of the type of further education—whether it be in a degree program or in technical training—assessments are an academic reality. The challenge, then, is to ensure there is an acceptable balance between time spent assessing and time spent teaching and learning because our students—whether or not they are English Language Learners—will not perform well when assessed without sufficient time to learn and will rebel when they believe they are being used as guinea pigs.

Students and teacher alike know their schools will try anything to improve yearly performance on high-stakes testing and that “anything” generally results in a multitude of assessments throughout the year. These assessments often have no consequences for the student and reduce actual teaching opportunities for teachers.

What follows is an essay I wrote encouraging parents to rally together to opt out of the latest high stakes test designed with no other purpose than to keep a corporation’s pockets full. It clearly outlines my frustration with the current environment of over-testing in our public schools.

Stop Outsourcing our Children

I’m not proud of what I’m about to share with you, but here goes. Many of you know me as “Leadville Laurel,” one of your local authors. I have taught, and continue to teach, English to many of your children. So when I started hearing about the new test—PARCC—which replaces CSAP this year, I started asking questions. My questions were answered with grumbles. “Take the 5th grade practice test,” someone suggested, “and see for yourself.”

Never one to walk away from a respectable challenge, and feeling quite confident that I am smarter than most 5th graders, I visited the web site and started the 5th grade English test. An hour later and with shaking hands (pretty sure my blood pressure was up several points), I got my score: 30/40, a solid 75%, perfectly “average” for a 5th grader. Granted, I didn’t go back to check my answers, so I might have reconsidered some of my responses. And I suppose I might have earned an extra four points for two essays I wrote, one having to compile and compare information from three separate essays and one having to rewrite a narrative from a different character’s point-of-view, but those portions would have to be evaluated by a faceless person and scored. When? Who knows!

Developed by Pearson, the same company that earns its fortunes through the sale of textbooks to our schools, the test—in addition to being stressful—is vague, complicated, and confusing. So why am I sharing this with you? Why am I confessing that despite my MA in English, I did not even score in the “Good” range on a 5th grade test? Because I’m asking you to do what I did. Pick one of the practice tests and see how you do. Then scream out loud. Then, if you have a grade 3-10 student, hug them. Then write a letter to their school saying, “I am opting my child out of taking the PARCC test this year.”

Schools across the country are already protesting the increasing insanity of the testing we’ve imposed on our children since the inception of NCLB. Proponents of these springtime tests (with results coming months later, never in time to alter instruction) say that testing is a part of life, and use the SAT college exam as a reason to pre-pre-pre-test. I say hogwash. If teachers were allowed to teach their students core material (teach, not test, because there is no instruction or learning happening during a test) like my teachers could back in the olden days, their students would do just fine on the SAT. Or not. Not everyone needs to attend a four-year college anymore.

Most parents won’t take my suggestion. Most will continue to grumble, but will not want to “rock the boat.” And without a dissenting majority, our schools will continue to buy the latest “testing success” materials and our children will learn less and less each year. And perhaps our parents don’t feel qualified to be vocal about what’s happening in our classrooms, so here’s my suggestion to those of you who don’t like what’s happening, but are unsure of what to suggest as an alternative to having your child sit through days of meaningless assessments.

Our school district is still in the process of implementing Expeditionary Learning. Why not use testing week(s) to have our students complete a project that is both meaningful and manageable to evaluate internally using the core standards at each grade level for English, math, and science. At least have that as an “opt out option” rather than sending students wherever administrators decide to send those who are bold enough to “just say no” this year.

Here’s the thing. Our teachers are “highly qualified” in their subject areas and in evaluation strategies. They know what their students should learn and where they are weak. They’ve endured countless hours of professional development on the same topics every year (from money-making companies who package old ideas with new names), and they’ve been forced to outsource the evaluation of their students to corporations that don’t give two hoots about them or their classrooms. Why?

We can’t afford to be complacent anymore. Whether we have children in the public school system or not, we pay for the schools in our district, and all of our graduates will impact the communities in which they live. We all should feel empowered to demand more: More learning, less testing. Opt out, Leadville, and work with your elected officials and school board members to take back the education and evaluation of our students from careless corporations.

~~~~~

Just as professional runners should not train at race-day pace every day for fear of injury or burnout, students should not be assessed so frequently that they, too, experience burnout. The student, like the runner, wants to perform well, but also knows that without the proper amount of time to absorb new learning, s/he will struggle. By evaluating and selecting the most efficient tools for assessing students and employing them judiciously, we can expect that students will do their best when asked. Regardless of the results, effort and improvement—however much—should be recognized and applauded.

Socrates is credited with stating that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” While perhaps an extreme viewpoint, it nevertheless is a strong suggestion that examination, assessment, thoughtful reflection on what works, what doesn’t, and why, can bring about growth. School leaders and teachers, much like that proctologist I mentioned earlier, must use their examination tools wisely to benefit those they serve.

 The Ultimate Challenge: Discipline

How do we solve the problem of discipline in our schools? We don’t. Every year teachers will have to learn how best to handle new challenges brought to their classrooms with unruly and often emotionally disturbed students, but if teachers and school leaders present a united front, then not everyone has to become the victim when little Johnny and Janie act up.

While many in academia tout the advantages of using technology in classrooms to appeal to their students and keep them engaged, in a December 2014 article in The Atlantic by Alexandra Ossola, psychology professor Daniel Willingham mentions a study in which the majority of teachers surveyed believed that technology posed a negative influence on their students. The professor’s concern is that “kids can pay attention but they just don’t want to. They have the expectation that everything should always be interesting.”

As an English teacher, I would tell the professor that the word “interesting” is as meaningless as the word “nice” when describing something, but I also know what he means. Students today do not tolerate boredom well, and why should they? We live in a world where the power to learn anything from soap-making to proctology rests in our pocket. Still, many a lesson has gone unlearned by students who have mastered the art of pocket-texting friends while pretending to listen to their teacher, and who believe their multi-tasking is not interfering with their learning. Studies have shown what we teachers already know: our students are wrong.

We’ve seen how kids of all ability levels turn into troublemakers when they are bored in classrooms. One suggestion, then, is to organize our classrooms in a way that helps teachers minimize the opportunity for boredom. Let’s let students with similar academic abilities learn together. Let’s finally answer the question of how teachers will differentiate for all levels of learning by differentiating our classrooms. This is not a politically correct solution, but haven’t we all had enough of teaching to the average—or even lowest level learner in a classroom designed with only political correctness in mind?

Another suggestion is to stop the practice of advancing students who are not ready for the next level of education. Currently, community colleges are faced with enrolling students with high school diplomas who cannot test into the basic college classes. They offer remedial courses for no college credit, sometimes concurrently with first year classes, and the burden on unprepared students is tremendous. College professors are flummoxed by the lack of preparedness for higher-level learning.

Although we’d like to put the blame on the student for not being prepared, how can we if we’ve never expected them to demonstrate proficiency in their K-12 years? As a minimum, students advancing to high school should demonstrate they have mastered the fundamentals of reading, writing, and mathematics. Tenth grade English teachers should not have to teach the proper use of a period and high school principals should not find it necessary to give up their 28-minute lunch break to tutor students on multiplication tables.

Students who are passed along through the K-12 system should not show up to class each day knowing that if they disrupt their peers or tell their teacher to piss off, or worse, they will be sent home for the day, a consequence students consider a bonus. Too many teachers’ hands are tied by threats of lawsuits and administrators who favor the notion of nurturing over discipline as if the two were mutually exclusive. Discipline, something that winning teams and organizations know is necessary for success, has somehow earned a bad rap in education circles and students know it.

So let’s take back control of our school environments, my final suggestion. School leaders, do the right thing. Do the unpopular thing. Review your book of rules and student conduct, revise it if necessary, and then—most importantly—enforce the expectations you’ve established. If you don’t do it, and do it consistently and across the board, then don’t expect your students to comply. Expect them instead to decide which rules, if any, they’ll follow, and then expect your staff and faculty to waste valuable time on disciplinary issues that rob them of their ability to teach effectively. Once you regain control, have the backbone necessary to hold students responsible for demonstrating their readiness at each level of education before advancing them to the next.

What more can school leaders and community members do to improve their schools?

Whether your school district is small or large, affluent or struggling, it can always improve with increased effort and attention. I believe that what works in a disadvantaged town also can help in areas more well-off. This is what I am asking you to do in your community whether you teach or have school-aged children or not. Strong schools benefit the entire community, so share these suggestions with everyone you know:

  • Encourage community members to visit your schools. Have them call ahead to find out about sign-in and security procedures. Let them visit classrooms, and if they have time and talents to offer—
  • Ask them to volunteer to help. Could they tutor a subject? Make copies? Bring supplies to the art teacher? Listen to a child read? Work with math flashcards? Do a presentation on an area of expertise? Research ways to challenge advanced students? The possibilities in this area are limited only by what community members are willing to do. If you know someone who has their own business—
  • Find out how their local businesses can interact with your schools. With limited funding, schools are often unable to provide field trips for students. Local business can provide a solution by opening their doors to student groups. Regardless of the subject matter, teachers will find a way to tie in an academic standard, be it writing, research, calculation, art, history, and by exposing students to local businesses, their understanding of the practical applications of what they are learning in the classroom becomes more meaningful. With a bit of planning, business owners will be able to answer the question, “But how will I use this in the future?” And if business owners are open to the idea—
  • Find out if there are opportunities for students to do internships. Paid or not, internships provide students with goals beyond their K-12 education. Speaking of internships—
  • Consider and suggest ways students might intern within the school district. Could the district’s website be updated routinely? Might teachers need help researching future lessons? Are there custodial projects that could be completed with extra hands? Would the local news outlets like to receive routine articles highlighting school activities? There are many ways in which student involvement would enhance both their skills and their communities.
  • Run for a school board position. You do not need to be a parent of a school-age child, but you do need to care about the routine and future decisions of the school leadership. If you are not inclined to become a board member, you may still attend board meetings. Find out what decisions are being made about your schools and know the people who are making the decisions—they are elected to make smart ones. If you are not happy with the way things are handled in schools in your community—
  • Elect people who have the best interests of students in mind. This goes not only for school board members but for other local officials as well. As a minimum—
  • Teachers, support your peers in whatever ways you can. Let them know they are not alone and that you understand their challenges. By becoming involved outside of your classroom, you can help to improve the environment in your schools. Good teachers work long hours for meager pay because they believe what they are doing will help their students, and ultimate the future of their communities. Write a note. Make time to visit another classroom. Meet for coffee. Lend an ear.

On the last page of Achor’s The Happiness Advantage we are reminded of the story of the hurricane attributed to a butterfly flapping its wings. “And each tiny move toward a more positive mindset can send ripples of positivity through our organizations, our families, and our communities. . . . the ripple effect is the perfect example of how there are no real discernible limits to our influence and our power (210).”3 Recognizing that I sound like Pollyanna, I still will ask each of you to believe you can bring about significant change by exercising your wings.

“Bernicia” ended up earning her diploma through a GED program after dropping out to raise the child she had as a young teen. She has a good job and a great relationship with the father of her child. She told me that my belief in her and in her poetry inspired a belief in herself she never had before. Every teacher and every community member has the potential to change a child’s world view.

Public schools will never be what they used to be when I was a kid, and in many ways, that is a good thing, but school should not feel like battlegrounds. There should be no “us against them” in places that prepare our students to become productive members of the communities in which they will live. We are all in this together. Educators are smart, tools are plentiful, and with the right team, any school system can improve. Together we must work toward improving the conditions of all who pass through and work in our academic establishments. Get involved and get your community involved. Offer what you can. Flap your wings. Do not leave the future to someone else.

1 Achor, Shawn. The Happiness Advantage. New York: Crown Business. 2010. Page 59.

2 Ossola, Alexandra. “Why Kids Won’t Quit Technology.” December 10 2014, 11:50 AM ET.

http://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/12/why-kids-wont-quit-tech/383575/ Web. retrieved 01/02/15

 3 Achor, 210.

 

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OPT OUT!

Stop Outsourcing our Children

I’m not proud of what I’m about to share with you, but here goes. Many of you know me as “Leadville Laurel,” one of your local authors. I have taught, and continue to teach, English to many of your children. So when I started hearing about the new test—PARCC—which replaces CSAP this year, I started asking questions. My questions were answered with grumbles. “Take the 5th grade practice test,” someone suggested, “and see for yourself.”

Never one to walk away from a respectable challenge, and feeling quite confident that I am smarter than most 5th graders, I visited the web site and started the 5th grade English test. An hour later and with shaking hands (pretty sure my blood pressure was up several points), I got my score: 30/40, a solid 75%, perfectly “average” for a 5th grader. Granted, I didn’t go back to check my answers, so I might have reconsidered some of my responses. And I suppose I might have earned an extra four points for two essays I wrote, one having to compile and compare information from three separate essays and one having to rewrite a narrative from a different character’s point-of-view, but those portions would have to be evaluated by a faceless person and scored. When? Who knows!

Developed by Pearson, the same company that earns its fortunes through the sale of textbooks to our schools, the test—in addition to being stressful—is vague, complicated, and confusing. So why am I sharing this with you? Why am I confessing that despite my MA in English, I did not even score in the “Good” range on a 5th grade test? Because I’m asking you to do what I did. Pick one of the practice tests and see how you do. Then scream out loud. Then, if you have a grade 3-10 student, hug them. Then write a letter to their school saying, “I am opting my child out of taking the PARCC test this year.”

Schools across the country are already protesting the increasing insanity of the testing we’ve imposed on our children since the inception of NCLB. Proponents of these springtime tests (with results coming months later, never in time to alter instruction) say that testing is a part of life, and use the SAT college exam as a reason to pre-pre-pre-test. I say hogwash. If teachers were allowed to teach their students core material (teach, not test, because there is no instruction or learning happening during a test) like my teachers could back in the olden days, their students would do just fine on the SAT. Or not. Not everyone needs to attend a four-year college anymore.

Most parents won’t take my suggestion. Most will continue to grumble, but will not want to “rock the boat.” And without a dissenting majority, our schools will continue to buy the latest “testing success” materials and our children will learn less and less each year. And perhaps our parents don’t feel qualified to be vocal about what’s happening in our classrooms, so here’s my suggestion to those of you who don’t like what’s happening, but are unsure of what to suggest as an alternative to having your child sit through days of meaningless assessments.

Our school district is still in the process of implementing Expeditionary Learning. Why not use testing week(s) to have our students complete a project that is both meaningful and manageable to evaluate internally using the core standards at each grade level for English, math, and science? At least have that as an “opt out option” rather than sending students wherever administrators decide to send those who are bold enough to “just say no” this year.

Here’s the thing. Our teachers are “highly qualified” in their subject areas and in evaluation strategies. They know what their students should learn and where they are weak. They’ve endured countless hours of professional development on the same topics every year (from money-making companies who package old ideas with new names), and they’ve been forced to outsource the evaluation of their students to corporations that don’t give two hoots about them or their classrooms. Why?

We can’t afford to be complacent anymore. Whether we have children in the public school system or not, we pay for the schools in our district, and all of our graduates will impact the communities in which they live. We all should feel empowered to demand more: More learning, less testing. Opt out, Leadville, and work with your elected officials and school board members to take back the education and evaluation of our students from careless corporations.

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Everyone’s a Winner. NOT!

After laughing uproariously while on the phone with a wonderful friend in Michigan, I just had to post some of our discussion. She’s a counselor at a community college, so the two of us took turns trading stories about what we’ve been seeing in our centers of education lately (and oh, yes, I just wrote a novel about that).

How did this nation arrive at the notion that everyone should go to college? I believe that belief is a bunch of hogwash.

One of the students at her school only lasted a semester. Why? Because he was blind, and he was in the culinary school, and aside from failing the throw-your-knife-in-the-air-and-then-catch-it-and-keep-on-chopping test, he was miffed that there were laws against having a hairy seeing-eye dog in the kitchen. Really???

Not only are we bending over backwards to accommodate every possible need our students claim to have (although I’m sure the blind student did, in fact, need that dog), holding their hands and walking them through the simplest requirements and giving them “every possible opportunity to succeed,” we’re–conversely–making things far more difficult for the people who are already trained to do their jobs: teachers (and I’m certainly not saying that all teachers are good, or well trained, which you will see later in this post).

I have a Master’s Degree in English. I earned my teaching certificate so that I could teach in public schools at the secondary school level. I have taught in those schools for five years and I’m currently completing my first year of teaching at our local college as an adjunct instructor. So what did I have to do this month as an administrative requirement to keep teaching at the college? Complete an on-line course on . . . EFFECTIVE TEACHING.

Here’s one of the questions I had to answer for this week’s assignment on “Universal Design”:                                                                                                                           “What steps can we take to ensure that content is directed not only at varied learning styles and learning disabilities, but also to make it appealing and relevant to diverse audience with varied interests and experiences? What do you see as the advantages and disadvantages of developing content with these concepts in mind?”

So after I screamed, “HOGWASH!” and calmed down a bit, I submitted the following:

I’ve got to say that my experience with “differentiation” in grade school classes has made me a bit gun-shy on the topic. As a teacher with over 100 students cycling through my classroom each day, and each class a heterogeneous mixture from the brightest GT student to the lowest on the special needs scale, I found it next to impossible (well, I’ll be honest and say it was impossible) to satisfy everyone’s need to have their own unique learning style addressed adequately. I could never admit this in my licensure classes because the faculty expected the new teachers to be able to accomplish this directive (address every learning style and every disability and make it appealing and relevant to a diverse audience with varied interest and experiences…ARGGGH!), and to embrace the idea zestfully.

That said, it is possible to design lessons that incorporate visual, auditory, and experiential elements, which, regardless of learning styles, would be more interesting/engaging than purely didactic instruction. The advantage, of course, is keeping the interest of your audience; and your students are your audience. Teachers need to be prepared to be “on stage” multiple times each day, and to bring the same energy and enthusiasm to each new class, regardless of how many students in previous classes remained uninterested.

The disadvantages, however, from my personal experience, are onerous. I long for the day when administrators will realize that teachers cannot do their best work when they are expected to cater to “the full range” in every class. Yes, I’m old, and I grew up a public school system that sorted classes (particularly core classes) by ability. My teachers could focus their instruction at a level which fit the needs of each class, and could take that class as far as it could go. I think if I had been in classrooms where my teacher needed to stop every 3 minutes to re-explain something I “got” immediately, I would have dropped out.

The biggest disadvantage I see, though, is that we are not preparing our students for the reality of the world beyond the classroom—a world in which we have employers who do not care what learning style works best for you, who will not bend over backwards to accommodate you needs, and who does not believe that everyone is a winner. I know that this is not a politically correct response, but it contains my honest opinions on these topics. [end]

And so I wonder what type of on-line discussion my post will elicit. My on-line teacher will probably give me a 50/50 and write, “Great job on your assignment!” which is what she posted as an answer to a question I sent her asking for clarification on one of the upcoming requirements. Perhaps she earned her teaching credential on-line . . . after multiple attempts to succeed.

Hogwash.

 

 

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Melancholy Mondays…status update

Chapter 1 is posted for your perusal! I’ve decided to be greedy and hold onto the rest for later, but I’m hoping that many of you will be interested in my telltale story of what it’s like to teach in today’s public school system. It is not politically correct. It will probably make you angry. It will make you laugh, too. I’m hopeful that it will make you ask for more.

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Melancholy Mondays: Chapter 1.2

The rest of Chapter 1! Ella goes back to the school after discovering her dog’s limits:

The atmosphere in the main entrance was the same as when she had left the school, but walking down the hall to her classroom, she saw a couple of boys standing against the wall with Razz towering over them and addressing them sternly. She walked past the situation quickly, not wanting to interfere, but was surprised that although the boys were standing there quietly, their facial expressions appeared disinterested . . . even cynical. Noted.

She immediately felt better stepping into her classroom. The bright carpet, the half-moon desk arrangement, the smiley face, and the two beanbag chairs already presented an uplifting change. Ella decided to leave the beanbag chairs behind her desk; she would come up with a plan for who could use them and when. She liked the idea of having a special reading area, and students would have to earn the privilege of using that area. Yes, that would work, she thought.

She arranged the brightly colored plastic baskets—her “in” boxes—on the counter against the windows on the far side of the room, then sat down to arrange the contents of her desk before creating her first seating charts. The swivel office chair—probably as old as she was—creaked and nearly tossed her over when she leaned back. No, she would not be sitting much this year.

Not knowing any of the students yet, Ella decided on a boy/girl/boy/girl arrangement for each of her seven classes, and quickly filled in her charts. Each class went into a clear plastic sleeve on which she could take attendance with a dry erase marker. On a butcher paper tablet she replicated the arrangement for each class, and taped them to the front board. Kids would be directed to the charts to find their seats upon entering the classroom.

She covered the large cork board by the door with bright yellow paper and stapled a sparkly star boarder around the edges. This is where she would post student “exemplars”; those who did outstanding work would have their efforts rewarded for all to see. Stepping back to take in the whole scene, Ella was pleased with what she saw. A perfectionist by nature, she would apply everything she was learning in her licensure program to her new job, and then go one step further by adding her own unique flair. She was just about to close up and head to the hardware store when Kirby Cohen, the science teacher on her team, entered the room.

“Wow, nice rug,” she said without a bit of enthusiasm in her voice. Kirby was slightly older than Ella, 30ish, and was a commanding presence in the room. Physically she was the antithesis of Ella, and bore a striking resemblance to the poster of Einstein Ella had taped to the back wall. She had a mad professor look about her, kinky wild hair and all. Meeting her for the first time during in-processing the previous week, Ella sensed that this new peer—who now did not even attempt to hide her sarcastic wit—could become a friend. This was her ninth year teaching middle school science at North, and Ella could tell that there was wisdom behind the wisecracks.

“What?! You don’t like it? These rooms are so ugly . . . I thought it might make the kids smile when they walk in.” Ella was surprised by the immediate defensiveness of her response; after spending five successful years in military leadership positions, the latest being in high-risk environments, she was not used to having her decisions questioned. She suddenly recognized that she was now the low-man-on-the-totem-pole, and this was unknown turf.

“It’ll make ‘em smile all right,” Kirby shot back, this time with a hint of a smirk. “I see you’ve already made your seating charts—can I see them?” Ella handed her the spiral notebook with each chart in the proper order.

“You’ll want to move Kevin away from Brad, and Mateo away from . . . well, everyone. I wouldn’t put Trevor next to any of these girls. Lara is pretty smart, but she’d rather be a pain in your ass, so don’t expect much from her. Watch out for Bernicia, too. She and Shareena are trouble.” Kirby looked up from the notebook and saw the distress on Ella’s face. “Hey, listen, don’t worry about this. You’ll figure it out pretty fast, and maybe they’ll be better for you than they are for me. I probably shouldn’t be saying anything before you meet ‘em.”

“No . . . thanks . . . I probably should have talked with you before making my charts,” Ella said, suddenly realizing that she actually knew very little about pre-teen dynamics in this inner-city school.

“Just remember that you’re in charge, and you can make changes whenever you want. Let’s eat lunch together tomorrow and I’ll fill you in on a few more things before Wednesday,” Kirby offered as she left the room.

“Thanks, okay,” Ella answered, hoping that Harry’s offer to let Bones out at mid-day was still on the table once he learned of the pooch’s earlier shenanigans. On her way out of the building, she approached Razz, who maintained his cross-armed brick wall composure until she was within greeting range.

“Sorry about earlier . . . I’m Ella McCauley, the new English teacher,” she said, extending her hand. He took her hand, cocked an eyebrow as she matched his grip, and held on for what seemed to be a bit too long. “Ah, I had a dog crisis,” Ella stammered, anxious now to retrieve her hand.

“Ain’t nothin’ but a thang,” he replied in a smooth, deep voice, finally releasing her hand. “Roger Jones, head of security, but everybody call me Razz. You’ll be seein’ a lot of me this year.” Ella could tell that he was checking her out, and wasn’t sure how she felt about it. As a single woman in the Army, she always had to arm herself with a tough-girl façade, something Sam was able to break through within weeks of meeting her. It was hard for her to believe that she had been single for over a year since Sam’s death, and now that she was a civilian, she wasn’t quite sure how to act. Still, she sensed an immediate need to protect herself from this swarthy security guard. The irony was not lost on her.

“Why would that be?” she asked, taking a step back and re-arming herself.

“You’ll see . . .”

“Ms. McCauley!” the school’s principal broke in, approaching the two. “I was hoping to see you before you left. I see you’ve met Razz; he’ll take good care of you.” David Martin was cool and professional, mid-30s, slightly balding and in great shape. Ella had liked him from the minute she started her hiring interview. She knew that he was engaged to be married—not that she’d ever consider a relationship with her boss—but she allowed herself to admire what she knew to be a great command presence. She trusted him.

“Yes, sir,” she answered, not knowing how else to address him. “He was just telling me that.” Her boss did not correct her, and she took that as a good sign. She was comfortable with having a clear chain of command, and he conveyed an air of authority that she expected from the leader of a school that employed security guards.

“We’ll be having a staff and faculty lunch tomorrow to kick off the new school year, and I’m hoping you’ll spend a little time getting to know the other people in your 7th grade team. I know you’ve got a lot to prep for Wednesday, but remember: your peers are here to help you, and so am I.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m really excited about meeting all my students, and Kirby has already come by my room.”

“She’ll be one of your greatest assets. Don’t let her scare you.”

Ella suppressed her desire to say that there wasn’t much that scared her anymore, except, perhaps, the brick wall that she’d soon be “seein’ a lot of.” She smiled and said good-bye to the two men, left the building, and drove to the nearest hardware store.

*****

The old Colonel was sitting outside his front door when Ella pulled up to the curb. Raising himself gingerly from his folding chair, he awaited her report. Ella hurried up the sidewalk, gave him a quick “Hello” hug, then encouraged him to sit back down.

“Let me grab Bones and we’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she made her way to her own front door.

Bones was happy to see her, and a quick look around told Ella that the place was no worse off than when she last left it. The dog followed her out to the jeep, curious to see what was in the packages, and then, noticing Harry, romped over to the seated man and threw his front legs onto his lap. Harry laughed, engaging the dog in a playful manner, and was rewarded with a wet tongue under his chin.

“Oh! Sorry Harry!” Ella shouted from the walkway, taking in the scene and not sure of her neighbor’s comfort level with dogs. “Bones, come!”

“It’s okay,” he replied as the dog obeyed and ran back to her.

“Be right back!” she called to Harry.

Ella and Bones disappeared into the apartment and returned ten minutes later with an extra folding chair and a clean, bright tennis ball. She set up her chair, joined her neighbor and tossed the ball over to her front yard; the dog amused himself with the new toy, occasionally bringing it back to Ella or Harry for another launch while they visited.

“Join me for a scotch?” Harry offered.

“Sure! Why not.” Ella was not much of a drinker, and had never actually had scotch before, but everything about her new life was different so far, and she loved the excitement of anything that removed her from what she considered to be her comfort zone. “Do you need any help?”

“No, you stay there. You can get the door for me in a moment.” He returned with two icy tumblers, and when they were seated again, he proposed a toast. “To your new life; may those kids at your school appreciate what you have to offer!” They clinked glasses, and Ella held the first sip in her mouth a bit before swallowing the smooth beverage. The reality that scotch was nothing like beer struck her immediately, and she knew she needed to make this one glass last.

“Thanks, Harry. I got a little indication today that middle school kids here might not be like the ones I went to school with 15 years ago back home. Did you know they have two security guards?”

“Well, I don’t want to diminish your enthusiasm, young lady, but I’ve lived here for almost 20 years now, and I’ve heard rumors. Some people are saying that North Middle might close. Bad test scores, lots of fights, can’t keep good teachers, stuff like that. Doesn’t surprise me. This area has been struggling for a long time now, and with things as they are, it doesn’t look like much is going to improve.”

“I was wondering why there seemed to be more tension than excitement in the building last week while I was in-processing. Oh well. I’ll do the best I can, and that’s about all I can do, right?” Ella suddenly felt very relaxed, her glass half empty, and the two new friends laughed together watching Bones charge around the front of the building as if he were on a racetrack. Which reminded her . . .

“So, your offer to let out my little rascal at lunchtime . . . is that still a possibility? Because I have a feeling I might not be able to come home too often, and I know that I can’t tomorrow. When I came home today—obviously too late—I felt terrible ‘cause he had an accident.” She left out the complete details.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it, now, would I?”

“I just really don’t want you to feel obligated or tied down, and there’s always the doggy-day-care center on Washington Ave. This would be such a relief to me, and I’ll be happy to pay you . . .”

“You’ll do no such thing, dear. This’ll give me a reason to get out of the house a bit. Is he leash trained? I could take him for a walk.”

“He’s great on a leash. I really have no idea how he ended up at the shelter, but someone trained him well before that. I think he’s only about a year old, but he’s a smart boy. I leave the leash on a hook by the front door. Just call his name and give him simple orders like ‘Bones, come,’ and then make him sit while you attach his leash. He’s used to the routine. Oh, and I made you a key.” Ella stood, dug the key from her pocket and handed it to Harry. “Want to call now to make sure he behaves for you?”

“Here boy!” Harry commanded in a firm, but pleasant voice. Bones stopped in his tracks, ball in mouth, and trotted over to Harry. “Sit!” Same tone. Bones sat. “Good little fella,” Harry praised the dog, patting him on the head. “I think we’ll be just fine,” Harry said to Ella, whose mouth was now slightly agape. “I used to have a mutt, years ago. He was a good dog. Here, let me take your glass; I know you’ve got lots to do tonight. If for some reason I can’t let him out some day, I’ll let you know in advance, deal?”

“Deal!” Ella answered, handing him her glass and starting to pick up her chair.

“Unless you need that in your apartment, you’re welcome to leave it here. I occasionally get a visitor, and it’s nice to have an extra seat to offer.”

“Of course! Thanks, Harry, I really do appreciate this. See you tomorrow.” She gave him a quick hug, then returned to her apartment with Bones on her heals.

Suddenly lightheaded when she entered her messy home, she realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and tossed a frozen dinner into the microwave. She set up and filled Bones’s new food station, a sturdy food/water combo, and resumed cleaning up the disaster. She ate the bland meal while catching up on the news, then prepared for the next day, setting out the peanut butter to remind herself to make a sandwich in the morning. Ella fell asleep on the couch halfway through an episode of Fringe, and woke to the wet kisses of a dog ready for his evening walk.

Dragging herself to her feet, she went through the motions of prepping for what would normally be a fast-paced pre-bed couple of miles in the slightly less sweltering night-time air, but found that the excitement and stress of the day—topped with the intoxicating new beverage—had sapped her of her usual energy. Fortunately, Bones was just as happy with the slower-paced stroll, and the two were in bed and asleep by ten.

For the first time in years, Ella enjoyed a dreamless, fidgetless sleep, and woke to the new day without an alarm.