a teacher evolving, part 2

I told you I was still mulling...still evolving.  Here's more thoughts after watching "Waiting for 'Superman'"...

One thing that did bug me about the film was that it presented parents in only a positive light.  The crew followed several kids whose mothers, fathers, and grandmothers wanted nothing more than for their child to get a high quality education.  These parents were nothing short of inspiring - many of them working several jobs and making their own personal sacrifices for the benefit of their child.  But what about the parents that don't?

One claim that the film made was that charter schools are often more successful than regular public schools.  Is some of this due to the innovation and forward-thinking happening in those schools?  Yes.  But there is also the other side that isn't as obvious....  The parents of students at charter schools are far more likely to have a strong interest in their child's education.  After all, they had to APPLY to send their child there.  That takes initiative.  Parents who send their children to public schools do not have to apply.  It is not seen as a privilege to be educated at these schools, but a right.  Perhaps the difference between the impoverished child at the charter school and the impoverished child at the regular public school is not only the type of instruction they are receiving, but their support level at home as well.

The flip side of the education mess is that teachers and administrators simply cannot do it all.  Yes, we can respond to a changing world and ensure high quality professional educators for all children.  But no, we cannot control cultural and home life influences.  According to many researchers, the highest indicator of student success in school is parent involvement, which is something the school cannot force.  We can encourage it and offer all the opportunities in the world, but when parents won't return phone calls, show up to special events, or even attend parent-teacher conferences, what message are they sending to their children? 

So yes, let's make sure we have quality professionals working in education.  But let's also hold parents accountable for their part as well.  And if you really want to get radical, what happens when we focus instead on educating parents? 

I'm sure there will be more to come as I continue to stew.  Stay tuned.... 

a parable

The other day a friend of mine who is a doctor told me about an interesting experience. She was preparing to perform surgery on a patient when some man in a suit walked into the operating room. He informed her that he was there to instruct her on surgery and to evaluate her performance. When she replied that this was a high-risk operation and that the patient had many risk-factors that might prevent a successful operation, he dismissed this with a wave. He said she either must completely overcome these or perhaps she should only take on the patients with the highest chances of survival. He was instating a new hospital policy that said that only the doctors who saved the most lives would be able to keep their jobs and make a good salary. My friend the doctor reminded this man that there are many factors beyond a doctor's control and that sometimes, despite their best efforts, patients may not survive. The man simply replied that she should have thought about that before deciding to help people by joining the medical profession. Finally frustrated, the doctor almost considered walking out, but she felt she could not abandon her patient, who she had come to care about and whose well-being she had been advocating. She began the surgery and the man stood over her shoulder with instructions, reminding her that if she failed to do exactly as he said, she might lose her job. Unfortunately, as the operation continued it became clear that the man had no operating experience at all and his instructions were inaccurate and often times dangerous. My friend was torn. Should she perform the surgery as the man instructed and risk losing the patient, or take the steps she felt were necessary to save their life and risk losing her career? Out of fear she chose to do as she was told. Sadly, the operation was unsuccessful and the patient lost his life. As the monitor beeped a flat line, the man scribbled notes and turned to leave. My friend the doctor, crushed with the realization that she had let someone bully her into not doing what was best for her patient, could only ask one question. "Did you ever lose a patient as a surgeon?" she whispered. The man replied, "Surgeon? I majored in business," and he walked out.

The next day my friend quit her job because she couldn't take the pressure. Other surgeons quickly followed and soon the hospital found itself extremely short-staffed. There were too many patients per doctor and at first the doctors tried to spread their attention evenly among them. However, as time went on, they noticed that all of their patients were doing poorly. So instead they decided to give all their care to the cases that were the most likely to survive, while leaving those that had less chance to fend for themselves. The result? This hospital, once successful and able to save many lives, now could only save the lives of a select few.

Think this story sounds made up? You're right. It may not have happened in a hospital or to a doctor, but is happening. It's happening daily to teachers all over this country - being told how to do their job by those with no experience in the field, being penalized for working with at-risk students, and ultimately being forced out of a profession they once loved because the pressure has become too great. So the next time you are thinking how to vote or where to put your trust, consider the people who spend every day in the trenches of education overcoming seemingly impossible odds and helping children to overcome poverty, hunger, and chaotic lives to reach their dreams.

And imagine yourself on that operating table. Do you want the surgeon to follow her training and professional instinct, or to follow her fear and the direction an unqualified source? I, for one, will take the expert.

a gentle nudge

I have recently landed in the unknown and previously intimidating regions of the middle school (dun dun dun...), a land filled with hormones and cell phones, where Twilight and SpongeBob coexist, where little girls still have skating parties for their birthday, except now they invite boys. Part of the life of a middle school teacher involves trying to navigate, corral, and otherwise herd hundreds of "tweens" through crowded and often chaotic hallways without a) dropping the enormous pile of copies to be made, b) losing sight of that little stink who always wants to do his Michael Jackson moonwalk, though you've warned him repeatedly it's not a safe way to travel a congested passageway or c) generally being trampled to death. But as my brain is never content to simply survive and be thankful for the avoidance of injury, I found it wandering into deeper realms as I happily escorted my lovelies to their PE teachers with a fond farewell.

Standing in the midst of bodies, many larger than my 5'4" frame, flying every possible direction down a narrow corridor, I noticed how I instinctively guide my students out of harm's way. "A little to the right." "Watch that door." "Here, let me help you." "No, you cannot get your fifty-seventh drink of the day." It involves a hand to the elbow, blocking an undesired path, an arm about the shoulders. Always gentle, always filled with care. I want them to be safe. I want them to stay out of trouble. I want them to go the best way, the way that is clear and leads them to their final destination in one happy little piece.

I realized that this is so much like what God does in my life and the lives of all His children. He nudges us. "Don't go that way. I've got a better way for you," he whispers to us. He quietly, yet with authority, blocks the unwanted paths. He wraps a loving arm around us to keep us close. He has guided me like this so many times in my own unpredictable and seemingly disconnected little life.

I wanted to move to a city far away, but I didn't get a job and my living plans fell through. Having no other option, I moved in with my parents and landed in an urban district. I didn't know if I could cut it. I fell in love with those kids. I learned how to really teach and how to really love and connect. I moved again, thinking I wanted to be somewhere similar. God put me in a suburban school, struggling to find identity and reach kids. Somewhere my newfound strength and talents can really be used.

And that's where I find myself now. Standing in the middle of these overcrowded, congested hallways, surrounded by young souls full of energy, possibility, and often hurt. And I do what my Father does. I guide them. I direct them. I nudge them. And I make their paths clear.

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." Proverbs 16:9

the tree on the wall

I'm going to build a tree today. A tree on the wall. Its trunk - brown paper, its leaves - plastic, its effect - magical.

I built my tree last year too. It took six hours, about a thousand tacks, and a ladder twice my height. But when my students walk in and see the tree on the wall, the one arching over their library filled with books waiting to to be discovered and loved, they stare in awe.

There is a tree. In their classroom. A shady spot to read. And suddenly it's no longer paper, plastic, and thumbtacks. It's a world beyond their hard lives where adventure and laughter wait.

And the tree invites them in.

mother bird

If you are one of the two people who read my blog, you have noticed that state testing has been a central focus of recent posts. If not, you should really take the time right now to go back and review. The sarcasm and scathing wit is really not to be missed. I'll wait.

Now that you've caught up, it's time for a confession. Part of why I despise this time of the school year so strongly is because of the doubt. This is the time when I question all of the steps that led me to this point throughout the school year. It boils down to this: Did I do enough?

When he told me he didn't understand, did I find another way to explain it? When her hard work paid off, did I celebrate? When they made mistakes, did I show them grace? When I heard angry words, did I listen for the pain behind them?

I love my kids and I want them to have the best in life, and that includes the best of me. This is the time of the year I have to start loosening my grip on them, fluffing their wings, nudging them to the edge of the nest. So one question overshadows them all: Did I teach them to fly?

unfortunate reality

Tips for how to succeed at state testing:

1. Teach all curriculum by the end of March.

2. Teach only subjects that you will be testing. Science, history, art, music? Not on the test. Not important.

3. Give kids special pencils. They're magic.

4. Do lots and lots of review packets. When your kids are sick of hearing the word "packet", start calling them "review bundles" or "practice presents".

5. Spend money on MAP testing t-shirts for all of the teachers. Ignore the budget crisis. Kids don't need books or desks without duct tape.

6. Bribe.

crunch time

Testing

Thirty-two sharpened number two pencils and a stack of practice tests just arrived in my box. I looked through the tests. Fractions. Decimals. Time. Geometry.

"Eek!" I said out loud. I hadn't taught any of this yet. Will someone please explain to me why we must have everything taught by March? Am I wrong, or aren't there three months left of school?

I gave a big sigh and walked into the classroom.

"Good morning, boys and girls," I said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. I cannot read to you after lunch anymore. We cannot have any more discussions. I do not have time to look at your stitches or your mosquito bites or your tadpoles. We have to get ready for the test!"

Why do we continue to give these tests? I ask myself. And why are we placing more and more value on them every year? We know that they do not accurately measure what a child really knows. We know that they do not indicate how well a child is doing in school. We know that one of your best math students can fill in one wrong bubble on the answer sheet and get a zero out of ten in math.

One of these days I'm going to get my courage up. When the tests arrive in my mailbox, I'm just going to send them right back with a note saying, "Sorry. Can't do. We're looking at tadpoles today."

- from 32 Third Graders and One Class Bunny
by Phillip Done

boogers are funny

My students were making a list of who is the funniest in the class. Having heard the top five, I expressed my surprise and outrage that I was not considered for one of the positions, namely the top one. So we staged a secret competition. Me versus the funniest kid. All day another student took score secretly. Criteria included number of times the class laughed at that person (oops, I mean WITH that person...), intensity of the laughter, and ability to deliver the line without collapsing into a heap of giggles. Now, I admit I was at an unfair advantage, because let's face it, I get way more talk time than the kids. But, I am proud to admit I have officially earned the coveted "Most Hilarious" title in my class. So what that it was bestowed by a group of 26 fourth graders? They're the funniest people I know.

goodbye

One of the hazards of my job is that I care. I care a lot. I care to the point where my life weaves in with the lives of my students. You can't teach in a place like this and not give yourself daily to these children. Each one has a little fragment of my heart.

Today one left. It was unexpected. He has been my biggest struggle, the thorn in my side, the focus of so much energy and so many nights lying awake at 4 am. His anger and intimidation of other students could be overwhelming at times. Yet, underneath the entire time was a wounded soul - hurt, lost, on shaky ground that left him fearful of abandonment. I saw the real him, like rays of light peeking through cracks in storm clouds. I wanted to help him, to be the hand that reached into that lonely place and pulled him out of the dark that was his anger and fear. But now I won't get that chance. He left today for another school, another teacher, another hole to hide in. And now comes the really hard part of my job - letting go. I have cared and hugged and listened and now I watch as he turns the corner and out of my life to a future unknown to me or him. I have to release him to other hands and trust that along the way God will use the piece of my heart that I have planted in this child to bring some good to his life and to the world around him.

And yet, life moves forward. Another child moves in and takes his place. He will sit in his desk, in his corner of the room, and he will look at me with eyes that seek love and acceptance and I will give a fragment of my heart to him. And I will hope.

reprint

I'm cheating. This is something I have posted elsewhere. But I like it and I'm lazy. So there.


Things to feel thankful for when teaching in the (almost) inner city.

10. Having a kid who put paint all over his face sit in the front of the room for 15 minutes and having his mom think you're brilliant for it

9. New dictionaries are like gold and are treated with wonder and respect...until the first dirty word is found and all awe ceases in a fit of giggles

8. Being able to say the word "b****" in a parent teacher conference

7. Less lack of respect for being young because you are the same age as their moms

6. The moment when you realize you don't want that trouble-maker to leave because he is making so much progress.

5. Being there when your kids see their first, and perhaps only, ballet performance.

4. Hugs that squeeze the life out of you because they are the only ones they get

3. Not being the one on recess duty when the curse words are found written in sidewalk chalk by the swingset.

2. Not being the one on recess duty when the used condom is found by the basketball court

1. On your worst day teaching, you are some child's best hope.

skipping school

It is the an eerie feeling to leave school in the middle of the day. You know that life will go on without you, kids will come and go from the room, and teaching and learning will still happen. (Though in my case this is usually accompanied by complete destruction of the room and bringing the substitute close to tears.) As I drove away from the school at noon today, blowing my nose and trying not to cough all over my steering wheel, I got to thinking about how uncomfortable I am knowing that I am not needed. Now I'm not saying that I don't make a difference, that what I do doesn't matter, but ultimately, life goes on without me. I think I am uncomfortable with this feeling because of my tendency to think of myself as the center of the universe. Almost everything I do, even when I am giving or helping others, I do because I gain something from it. This is hard to admit.

All of this makes me wonder what God thinks about me thinking about myself this way. (A confusing sentence, no? An even more confusing thought...) Essentially I make myself God every day. I put myself in His place and seek to bring more glory to myself rather than to Him. And if I am uncomfortable not being needed and important - I, who have little to offer other than a great guacamole recipe, bad jokes, and a knowledge of random useless trivia - how then does God - Creator of the universe, King of Kings, Alpha and Omega - feel when I do not make him important? When I live like I don't need Him? I think he is more than uncomfortable.

A tough thought to chew on and one I plan on exploring, especially since the only thing I have to do right now is blow my nose and drink plenty of fluids. Who says skipping school can't change your life?