Summer!

It’s been 2 full days since my summer break officially started.  The students’ last day was a week ago Monday, but with completing records and presenting a session in a workshop, I haven’t really had a chance to collapse until last Friday.  Collapse is a good description of the total and utter fatigue that overtook me once all the teaching duties were put to bed.  I don’t recall much of Friday…. spent that on the couch staring at Law and Order in all its variations and then rolled back into bed.  By Sunday, though I was approaching human.

In the news this week is Governor Patrick’s new initiatives for public education.  I hear about longer school years and school days, but no one has any good ideas for funding – yet.  Maybe this time will be different.  I don’t believe you’ll find many in education that would say this is as good as it gets.  I personally would support a longer school day as long as that day included something more than the perfuctory 10 minutes of recess for the kids.  Kids need to play ! They are getting fat and pudgy, not just from the plethora of junk foods that pass for snacks (and, BTW, am I the ONLY one who has the fortitude to tell a kid “no you can’t eat that?”). Kids need exercise to refresh their thinking as well as to address physical issues.  And then there’s executive function – more on that at a later day.

This morning I read yet another “expert” — ie someone who went to school at some point in his or her life who thinks they know pedagogy — who proclaimed that teachers should be paid based on their effectiveness.  How is that going to be measured? By that lovely one-size-fits-all, high-stakes MCAS test?  In that case, many talented, hard-working teachers who work with challenging students — learning disabled, physically disabled, emotionally disabled, second language — will never be considered successful.  Governor Patrick is unveiling his ‘teacher effectiveness’ protocols tomorrow; stay tuned.

So with that rant, it’s a lovely (and so far sunny) morning and time to catch up on all those home improvements that have been put off since September. 

 

A Day Like No Other….

I haven’t posted in a while. The last 6 weeks of school usually are pretty crazed and this year is no different. The kids are hyper to start vacation — either they can’t wait to spend more time playing OR they are anxious about going on vacation because home just isn’t a scene from Leave It To Beaver. Either way, it’s pretty nutty and even on a good day, I return home exhausted — physically and mentally spent.

Today, however, takes the cake.  In more than 20 years in elementary ed, today was a first. 

To start with, it is Spirit Week.  Yeah, that’s right…. the nutty teachers have decided to whip up our students into more of a frenzy with things like Crazy Hair Day, Hat Day, and today’s entry: Backwards Day.  One of my colleagues had a grand idea — let’s dress like men teachers and tip the daily schedule on it’s end.  So, wearing a blonde mullet and black mustache, I greeted my cherubs this morning.  You can imagine the buzz that created…. but so far, so good.  Instead of our Writing Workshop, we had our Mathematics lesson… still so far so good.  Then it was time for the daily special class, computer in my class’s schedule.  About 5 minutes into the 45 minute block, an announcement was made that all teachers needed to retrieve their students from specials and that a fire alarm would sound.  We were instructed to follow our fire drill procedures and exit the building with the expectation that we might be outdoors for “a while”.  Great.  What you, dear reader, may not realize is that at the time it was pouring rain — downpours were about the same intensity as what comes out of the showerhead in my beloved bathroom.  Super.  Oh, did I mention my leather jacket?

So, we did as we were told — I had the foresight to grab my purse and car keys as well as several black trash bags for the kids who did not bring jackets to school and my umbrella (I haven’t been teaching for 20 years for nothing, have I?).  Out we went in the pouring rain and stand we did for about 20 minutes until we were instructed to continue to wait in either the gym or the cafeteria.  There was a bit of confusion there.  Looking like a posse of drowned rats, we dripped our way into the gym and sat among the book fair displays that had been set up for this week’s Scholastic Book Fair.

After another 20 minutes, we were told we could safely return to our classrooms.  Now that sounds like it would be a nice ending to a wet experience, but what you don’t know is that the air conditioning in my classroom keeps the air at a frigid 60 degrees max.  There is nothing like being dripping wet and sitting in a walk-in freezer is there? 

Having eventually made it through the morning, the festivities of the day continued at a fever pitch.  I hope tomorrow is an improvement — maybe even a nice calm day, but it doesn’t look all that hopeful. 

In a blur…. and then it’s gone

This is a weird time of year in education.  We’ve been in the middle of high stakes testing (for third graders of all things! Geez, they’re babies!), all the portfolio-type events are taking place, and it’s close out time.

That testing thing.. I approach it with feelings of dread, panic and sometimes a little relief.  This week my students took the Mathematics MCAS.  As I read the testing script (yes it’s a script!), and told my sincere-faced, panic striken 8 and 9 year-olds that they could not use their cell phones or cheat I was once again reminded of the insanity of it all.  What makes anyone believe a pencil and paper exam in an artifical environment proves whether or not they “got it” or I’m a proficient teacher? 

The test examiner/proctor is given specific directions: no reading (unless it’s an accommodation for special needs), no looking over the students’ shoulders to see what the test item is about, no facial expressions, don’t check the booklet to see if they’ve turned 2 pages at a time and missed 6 problems…. what are we doing to these kids? They’re 9!

What I saw with the children I monitored would make anyone proud.  Keep in mind that 13 of my 19 children have been identified as English Language Learners — with limited English proficiency.  And bear in mind that the questions on an MCAS test might seem reasonable to you or to me — as we (or at least I) are proficient in the mother tongue — the nuance of phrasing often escapes my charges.  Given this, my children stayed with it…. over 3/4 of the group took the full test time to work through the test items and then went back to check their work in each session.  I’m not confident that they will score well, but I do know that they made their best effort.

This past week I read an article in the Marshall Memo, a periodical shared with interested staff at my school by our principal.  In this last edition, Issue 234, the article How can teachers teach so students remember? caught my eye.  The author points out that it is sometimes a year OR MORE before concepts and ideas that are taught become part of the student’s knowledge. 

So, there’s no point in cramming the MCAS’s topics down student’s throats, there’s a great possibility that what I’ve been teaching throughout the past year won’t be remembered — so just what is it that we’re evaluating here?

 

33 and counting

As of this morning, there are just 33 school days left.  Subtract the 3 wasted days for testing and there are 30.  And then take away a field trip and field day and we’re down to 28! 

What we are as a learning community is pretty much set, although possibly set in jello.  What is left is a mild variation on the school year we’ve built and possibly some end-of-year grouchiness from a group of kids who have been tossed into this family-style mix for nearly 150 days.  Some kids get testy with each other and less able to tolerate all those little quirky things that seemed not to be a problem before.  The girls in the room get a little b—-y; looking cross at one another is reason for all-out battle.  Kids who don’t want to spend a summer at home dealing with the SOS start to act out.  They’re actually angry at ME because school is almost over. Yet all year long I’ve heard how they hate school — go figure!

Tomorrow we will attend a field trip performace of Paul Revere at the University.  We brought the children to the same program last year and it was quite a stretch for some.  First of all — it’s sung!  That’s right, we’re bringing third graders who don’t get out much to an opera.  And one where the players use things like tables to take the place of Revere’s horse.  I’ve prepared the kids for this, but wonder really and truly how it will go over. Hopefully third graders can respond with open minds and maybe even get a piece of information or two from the story.

We are back for the final slide into summer. I can’t wait!

We can still have some fun

Yesterday, the day before our week-long spring break, coincided with lots of special reading activities for my class.  It was RIF day, and also, the third grade classrooms had designated yesterday for a Read-To-My-Parent day at the end of school.

I threw caution to the wind and turned the day upside down…. and, with one notable exception, everyone had fun!  How cool was that?

At the request of the kids, we designated the day “Stuffed Animal Day”.  Anyone who wanted to could bring a favorite stuffed animal to read to (just in case a family member couldn’t come for the Read-In).  We’ve also been reading The Velveteen Rabbit as a school so a well-loved stuffed animal just seemed like the right prop to have on hand.  The kids have all heard about my favorite stuffed animal – a sock monkey name Jock-o (trust me, I was a toddler LONG before Michael Jackson co-opted this nickname!).

When we prepare for lunch, I usually take the class to the cafeteria and one of the one-on-one paras takes my wheel-chair bound student after changing her position to a standing device.  Well, it turns out, this little miss has quite the mischievious sense of humor.  When I returned from bringing the children to the cafe, I noticed Jocko had been kidnapped!  The hostage demand:  a night’s free homework pass!  What fun we had for the next hour trying to rescue Jocko from his kidnapper(s) (I’m guessing several were in on it).  And even after he was finally found, he once again disappeared.  Apparently it is hard to keep a good monkey in the classroom and it is hard to keep such goings on quiet!  My husband, Adrien, was bringing me coffee and heard about the kidnappings when he signed in at the Main Office. During our Reader’s Theater presentation, someone (no names) managed to pass Jocko off to Adrien who was also enlisted to carry out the mischief, and out the door Jocko went…. I believe he might have been on a colleague’s supply cart in the hallway, but we are still dusting the school for fingerprint proof. Get me Law & Order on the blower!

Poking fun at and laughing at myself does not come easy…. but mock indignation at Jockos predicament had us all laughing until tears ran down our faces!  What fun to see kids who are usually so guarded, let their mischeivious and silly side out.  For some, I wonder if the afternoon might have been a break from all the serious home issues that interfere with them just behaving like kids.

And as for Jocko… well a hug and a few well-placed stitches to stop the stuffing from falling out and he’s no worse for the wear.  In fact, I think he’d like to return to 207 sometime soon.

It was all downhill from there….

Ah, the morning when everything seems new and possible.  Little did I know when I posted this morning what excitement was in store today.

Having checked in at the office, I had a quick conversation (well maybe it wasn’t that quick) about a student’s revoked field trip priviledge.  Upshot, we’re giving the student another chance to see the play we’re going to at the end of the month, but it’s going to be one of those “earn it back” kinds of things.  I’m hoping he can pull it together, but generally with this child, an incentive works for about 24 hours and then whatever demons are in his mind make him forget what the idea was.  I think that’s the definition of “hard to remember your original objective was to drain the swamp when you’re up to your a– in alligator!” — kidstyle.  My intentions were to conference with this kid during breakfast, but between his defiant demeanor (or was that avoidance?) and the hurly burly that became the start of the day…. well I got around to it about noon — seriously!

One of my most emotionally involved students is being transferred to an EDBD classroom in a nearby school.  I know in my heart that this move is the right one for the child, but I sure feel as if I’ve failed him.  His parent had not yet shared this bit of news, so tomorrow, when we’re all wishing him well, it could be very interesting.  I’m not certain that the information has ever been shared.

A colleague of mine learned one of her students had brought a weapon to school.  It was apparently intended to cause harm to another student and there was a plan — one that involved classmates.  The classmates were all intimidated by the ringleader so they didn’t tell on him – very unusual for 8-9 year olds!  Usually they can’t WAIT to rat someone out.  What made this kid so violent?  Given the non-stop coverage of this student or that bringing a weapon to school to do harm to staff or peers, can we actually act surprised when one of ours picks up on the idea?

The pain of this last situation is that the teacher is a master of creating a community of learners — a place where kids feel safe and where kids are treated with respect.  How could such an event take place in a classroom that is a model for us all?  I don’t understand.  But I do know there but for the grace of God, go I.

Our administration is just about the best there could be.  Their calm yet decisive handling of this event and the way they made sure that staff had as much fact as needed to squash the rumor mill, was truly unbelievable.  I wonder if everyone realizes how good it is to be here? 

So, tomorrow is the last day of the week — it is our Whole School Meeting (see the Reponsive Classroom) and our school-wide celebration of Cambodian New Year.  I’m hoping the end of the week goes a lot better than the day after hump day.

 

Pass It On…..

Even though I teach elementary age children, I’ve managed to avoid a cold for the last 18 months.  That is, I avoided one until Saturday morning around 1 am when I woke with a sore throat.  The timing on this cold — on the weekend — is really frustrating.  Adrien & I had tickets to Le Vent du Nord, which of course we ended up having to forfeit. Although I would probably stay home tomorrow if I had a private sector job, and may in fact end up having to do just that, I haven’t made the call to the sub line.  Getting a sub in a classroom where many of the children have emotional issues is almost not worth doing unless you’re at death’s door — the next day the children with abandonment issues punish you for being out.  It’s a real cunundrum.

So, how did I manage to get this cold?  Kids who are sent to school sick — and I had several fall in that category last week — because Mom or Dad need to work and can’t make any childcare arrangements.  Sometimes kids come with fevers, or throw up shortly after arrival…. isn’t there some other arrangement that the leader of the civilized world cannot find a way to take care of the youngest, most defenseless citizens? 

Meanwhile, I’ll see how gross I feel after tonight and maybe I’ll have to call for a sub.  And if I can, I’ll suck it up and go in to pass the germ on to someone else in my room. 

Jonathan Kozol

I serendipitously was given an opportunity to hear Dr. Kozol at the Biggy Lecture at UML yesterday afternoon.  A summary of the lecture can be found on Jackie Doherty’s webblog.  This was the second time I’ve heard Dr. Kozol speak — each time it’s been thought-provoking.

 This time, Dr. Kozol spoke at length about the battering public education takes in districts with high rates of poverty (and conversely lower funding of education).  Our students need the same advantages that their counterparts receive in more affluent communities — and they need them now.  For me, it’s a matter of justice: my third grade students are just as bright and creative as anyone else here on God’s green earth, but many of them are not treated that way.  When people in my hometown ask what I do and I tell them, I often get that pitiful look that urban educators come to recognize as part condescension and part prejudice.  I have actually heard one suburban educator voice the opinion that urban educators can’t be all that smart since the test scores in the cities are so much lower.

One of yesterday’s panelists — a 30-year veteran art teacher  (Mr. Meehan) — spoke to this through his own experiences teaching kids in Lawrence, MA.  Being “street smart”, our kids know things we can’t possibly imagine and they are very successful living in their environments.  Think about it: what would happen to us if we had to deal with some of the social and economic challenges our students have come to think of as commonplace?  What our kids want — and what we should stand up for — is success outside of their environment.  We — and they — want worldly success for our students. And that, is the challenge Dr. Kozol left us with — what are WE going to do to effect the change our students need and deserve.

And an exhaustive time was had by all….

So, we’ve finished Round 1 of MCAS — the Third Grade Reading MCAS test.  The students took Days 1 and 2 quite seriously, but by Day 3, most could no longer cope with reading and answering questions.  Most of the students “finished” in half the 45-minutes suggested for testing…. test exhaustion?  Ya think?

Yesterday afternoon – the afternoon after the last test was put away – was brutal.  9-year-olds are not exactly eloquent when they are frustrated, but the behaviors speak volumes.  Several couldn’t sit at all – it was as if they were on fire. Pacing, moving from spot to spot in the room, refusing to do any tasks…. even a “catfight”.  It was hideous.  Today (the day after) wasn’t much of an improvement.  The students with emotional issues were very inappropriate and noncompliant. For the first time in my 20-year career, a student openly flashed the “bird” at me in the middle of math. 

I “get” that we need to be sure students leave our schools with some standard of education reached, but I don’t get why multi-day testing that is more appropriate developmentally for older students needs to be foisted on to 8 and 9-year olds.  I don’t think the kids get it either…. sure feels like a punishment. 

The side effects of high stakes testing

This past Monday, the day following a 3-day weekend, started 3 days of high-stakes testing for my third graders.  This was the first experience with testing for most of these children – the exception being the ELLs who participated in the MEPA testing 2 weeks before (so the students who speak English as their second language have twice as much testing in English. Go figure).

Most of the kids, though nervous, took the time to read and seemed to be putting in time and effort as evidenced by the fact that I could see them reading questions and then returning to the text to look for answers.  Sorry to be so wishy-washy but it is against the law for me to look at the test specifics. 

Test security from the adult perspective is more than stressful.  So many things to take care with, to be sure do not contaminate the test environment.

However, it’s the students who bear the brunt of the test stress… and they show the stress with a variety of behaviors.  Some can’t sit still or even just sit.  Others put their heads down and telegraph how defeated they feel.  Still others angrily strike out at the slightest perception of unfairness, at the adults who have worked hard for over 100 days to build a culture of mutual trust, at anyone who gets in the way. 

The question that some adults asked each other this week was “what are we doing to our children?” When do kids get to enjoy the thrill of discovering something from science, learning to love biography just because, the sound of a word?  All of these things are learning experiences burned into my own memory — a memory from a time before learning was trivialized into input-output.  When we finally admit that learning is a phenomenal process that cannot be poured into a human’s brain, when we once again value teaching as the art it is, the “doctor “will no longer need to be in to deal with side effects of high stakes tests.