Let's Keep Our Stories

This whole blogging thing has me a bit intimidated. I return each summer vacation to my blog filled with hope and ambition that I will blog, blog, blog my heart out. I even bought a book on my kindle all about how to blog and have people want to read it. Haven't read that book in a while. So the problem is in that book it detailed all the things you must add to your blog posts in order to attract readers. I guess that is not really why I want to write. Yes, it would be nice for someone to read one of my posts and comment. That has happened once or twice. It is a rather nice feeling but the comments I have received have been from friends and family who know me. I feel like those don't count. They know I am an English teacher. They likely know I can write. Hard to imagine being a good teacher without being able to write.

No, the reason I want to write is because I love the way the page looks as it fills up with my words. I like to see my thoughts looking back at me from the computer screen. I want to tell the stories that I share every day in my classroom -- I want to write them down before I forget them.

Many years ago I worked in a couple of different nursing homes. I was an Activities Director. It was a challenging yet rewarding job but, ultimately, one that sent me back to school to become a teacher. But when I was employed at the nursing homes I met some of the most unique individuals. I was sure that someday I would write a book and tell the stories of the ladies and gentlemen that I had met. There were some strong characters to be sure. And some were sweet.. and some were .... well, just plain ornery. But the stories I could tell..... 

I do remember one story that I have told to my classes often. This year I mentioned that one of our pets at home is a goldfish. The kind you win at the carnival. I explained to my class that we had one of those that was over 5 years old! They seemed unimpressed but I pushed on to tell them that those fish typically live only a few days because they are bait fish intended to be fed to other fish. It is usually just a big sad story a few days after winning them as the ritual flushing occurs.

For the nursing home residents, throughout the year we would plan some big events that had themes. One time we planned a Bridal Fashion show and I and many of the other workers wore our own wedding gowns to the delight of the residents. Another big event was our Senior Prom. The residents really looked forward to the dancing, the music, and of course, the unique decorations we managed to pull off.

 For one special event we had an ocean theme. As we brainstormed decorations, the activities staff agreed we could place fishbowls on each dining table for a centerpiece. We would buy the inexpensive carnival fish to put in each bowl. The residents were amazed to see the tiny goldfish swimming around as dinner was served. The fishbowls were a colossal hit. The residents could not stop talking about those fishbowls.

After the event, we gathered up all the glass fishbowls onto a gray serving cart and rolled it back into the Activities/Bingo room. All the fish were moved into a large fish tank found in the craft closet. We didn't give them another thought until the next day when residents began arriving for  bingo. A few of the more vocal residents pointed out quickly that several fish were floating on the top. Bad luck for them, we guessed! They were plucked out and flushed posthaste.

A few hours later, residents gathered again in the Activities room for cards. It wasn't long before we were being notified of more fatalities in the fish tank. Not wanting to dwell on the sad topi, we again quickly removed the goners. The residents remained cheerful noting how much fun it had been to see them on the dining tables.

By the next day, there were many dead fish floating on the top of the tank. We all did our best to  remove them before anymore residents saw them! This was starting to get depressing! Day after day we scooped out the dead ones and before long, in spite of having purchased hundred of goldfish, there was only one left. This fish was hardy. He was the sole survivor. None of us could figure out why it was still alive but it was. Even the residents noticed. One of the maintenance men eventually asked us if he could have the fish for his apartment. We quickly agreed not wanting to have to share the gruesome tale with the residents when the final flush was needed. He named that fish Rocky.

I don't know how long that fish lived. I guess my story sort of stinks without knowing that but like our own fish, it wasn't supposed to happen at all. We really look at our fish with wonder. How is it still alive? No idea. But that will to live is something to think about.  It seems to be a powerful force. Maybe the residents took some solace in the fact that, in spite of all the others, at least one had managed to hang in there.

Those are the kinds of stories I don't want to lose. There were really special residents like Martie, who always had a white neck brace collar on, and my little piano player, Edna with the squeaky high voice and the slow, slow, shuffle, shuffle walk and Michael, who was the unofficial mayor of the home.

If we don't write down the stories, we lose them. I really am going to try harder to remember more of them. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. For now.

Don't Go, July.

Dear July,
     The other day I noticed how close we are to the end of your stay. Boy, the time has just flown by! It's hard to believe that our time together has come to a close and in a few days you will be gone. I am imploring you not to go.  I have to admit, I have just begun to really enjoy you. Just this week I have started to truly feel the magic of your days.I stopped checking the clock to see if I was late. I baked cookies!  I began poking through the books I have been meaning to read, finished one last last night. I noticed, really noticed, the beautiful blue and pink sunsets that have marked the last few evening's end. I even started to walk regularly, been meaning to do that for many months--not sure what you did that got me there!  July, you are a quite wonderful month.
     I have penciled in this final week as our time together to bond, relax, and really feel the power of your presence. I am in no way ready for you to leave and be followed by August. August is just not my favorite. With August comes those back breaking days of setting up my classroom combined with shopping trips for the school supplies.

     So much effort to create just the perfect environment. So much money spent on supplies that will no doubt be gone by January. In August, I begin to have the dreaded "teacher nightmares." That is never restful sleep; I wake up panicked by the situation I was clearly not prepared for in the dream. Can't find my classroom, late for the school day, unprepared to teach, missing my shoes....after twenty years of teaching, you would think they would stop. None of this makes me feel happy or relaxed.
     In addition, August means cramming in any last minute appointments that should have been taken care of in July. August means coming to terms with all the great plans and ideas I had for the summer that didn't and, now certainly, won't happen. That just makes me feel bad. August is filled with judgement for time and opportunities wasted. Bossy and judgmental, who needs that? Not me.
Finally, August is often called by teachers, "one big long Sunday night." A huge reminder that school is starting and our restful time is gone.
      So, July, you are soooo my favorite. Please stay? I really need you.

Please stop "helping" us. Please.

I am so involved lately in advocating for what is right and just for the field of education. Everywhere you look are self proclaimed experts so eager to join the conversation about how to fix our profession. How wonderful that so many feel so empowered to offer their expertise to our leaders. How is it even possible to imagine so much good will? Or is it. Are all the "helpers" really helping? Does the teaching profession need all to succeed? I wonder.

I saw a post recently on FB showing a new concept: a public data wall where students names are posted near the benchmark they have achieved. So the entire class would be aware that "Norissa" was at the lowest indicator for that particular marker. This was obviously a suggestion from a "helper" as a way to encourage those slackers to catch up with the rest of the class.

Imagine that. I wonder if the same "helper" would like a wall for teachers? We could post names of teachers whose test scores were lowest and that would surely help them see how they had to catch up to the others. Yes. This is how our profession is currently viewed. As if we are in so desperate need of help that any, yes, any new idea would be better than what we are currently doing.

How.Dare.You.

Right now. Step away from my profession. Stop offering your feeble suggestions since in doing so you are making it abundantly clear that I have no idea how to help myself. Then as you disengage yourself from my career, might you consider that whomever you have been listening to about the terrible downward spiral of education might actually be lying? Yes. They are lying to you.

My school is not failing. Schools do not fail. Systems fail to provide what children need. That is what is happening. Pockets of need are showing up all over the country demanding attention. Many children go to school everyday to escape from pretty bad situations at home. Many children go to school each day to have a nourishing breakfast and lunch. Many children each day must travel through terribly dangerous neighborhoods simply to get to school. Teachers see this day in and day out and this, this is what the helpers should be looking at.

Could I ever so gently suggest that the "helpers" look at those pockets of need? Can you agree to take those well intended suggestions and put them toward solving the real problem of poverty? Can you find a way to give needy children new clothing? Can you find a way to put a replacement refrigerator in the home where the family is using coolers to keep food fresh? Can you find a way to help a child have a happy birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving? Can you help a teenager find a part time job? Can you get some childcare so students are staying home from school to babysit their siblings? Can you help to fill the shelves at the food cupboard? Can you work on a Habitat House? Can you volunteer to read in an elementary school? Are you really interested in HELPING?

If, instead, you are content to offer up ridiculous unproven notions that you are certain will fix those schools then really, just, stop.

We Have Got This. Thanks for your concern. We Have Got This.

Teachers have all the answers within us. We constantly monitor and adjust within our classrooms. This is how we work. Our work is never, and I mean, really, NEVER done. And we pack up at the end of every long day anyways knowing it will be right there for us the next day. Maybe the "helpers" saw this and interpreted it meant we really wanted them to help us. No. We knew from day one that we had chosen a challenging field to work in. We knew from day one it would not be easy and it isn't.

So, once again, let me make this brutally clear. WE HAVE GOT THIS. Nothing to see here, folks. Please, Please, Please go find those glaring pockets of need in your communities and help them. They truly do need your wisdom and good intentions. And by that, I mean your money. Find an organization whose mission is to really help the children and donate your time and money to them. And, you know what will ultimately happen? You really will help the children.

The field of education is not stronger as a result of all the reformer nonsense and lies. Yes, lies. It comes right back to that. What you have been told is simply not true. Look into it and you will see I am right.
 

"Patience ....."

This is always a hard time of year for me. Living in Rochester does not make it any easier. It's gloomy, it's cold, and there is no respite in sight. My dad, a wise farmer, once encouraged me to remember that "once you get through February, spring is right around the corner!"

Always loved his optimism with nearly all situations. I loved how he could smile and shake things off with a gentle shrug of his worn, tired shoulders. I can still see him, in response to one of my complaints about winter, breathe in with a small tug of his lips to one side of his face. He would reach up and adjust his cap (usually a Yankee cap) slightly off center and look me straight in the eye. The message he would always deliver was patience, that "good things are coming our way" and he would finish it up with "just you wait and see."

I think of him often now as my profession is being threatened on all sides. I wonder if his answer would remain the same. George never shied from pointing out a conspiracy theory, though usually that came up when discussing his beloved Buffalo Bills. I do think he would be sad that each individual teacher is being told that an entire year's worth of work is only worthy if the score on a 3 day long painful test is high enough. He likely would not even be able to understand the convoluted method of determining the score for the student much less the score for a teacher. (Administrators can't even fully explain it.)

I know, for sure, he was proud of me becoming a teacher. I know, for sure, he believed  every day I went into my classroom I was going to try to make a difference in each of my student's lives. I know, for sure, he knew I wasn't afraid of being evaluated; I had shown him many of my early evaluations just to help him understand my professional life.

George would surely scowl at the suggestion that I was only interested in protecting my pension and the fact that Governor Cuomo would say that about teachers would not sit right with him. Nor would he find it the least bit amusing that the hard work in our evaluation process was to be called "Baloney" by our Governor Cuomo.

I am reminded of a time when I saw him get politically active. Many years ago, Rochester was hit by an historic Ice Storm. It was severe and power was off for many customers for weeks. My parents, George and Nancy, were one of those households whose power remained off for more than 14 days. They were in their 70's at the time. Their frustration became clear when they placed a large sign in their yard and started marking off the # of days without power as houses around them all had their power turned back on already. They were spending time in their garage where the wood burning stove kept them toasty warm. They kept a generator going to prevent their basement from flooding and alternated plugging it in there and then the refrigerator and so on.

 But their biggest concern through this entire frustrating event in their lives was for the neighbors across the street, in their 80's, who also had been overlooked by the power company. George and Nancy were furious that no one was looking out for the elderly couple across the street!

When interviewed by a local news station that had seen their sign, he likened it to his experiences in WWII where the fight was much more serious. He simply couldn't believe the treatment he and his neighbors were receiving by the local power authority who was not able to even answer all the phone calls they were getting and seemed indifferent to their plight.

George had simply decided enough was enough. His patience was gone and it was time to "bring in the big guns, by golly!" It was not long after the news report that George and Nancy and the "elderly" neighbors had their power restored. It really was the sign that did the trick. It was an old political sign of his nephew, Dale Rath, who had run for office some years before. The irony was not lost on the rest of us who had tried, in vain, to call for them, had tried, in vain, to get them to come stay with us, who had tried, in vain, to problem solve this situation. It was the gentle, wise farmer who took the "bull by the horns" and solved the dilemma.

I am pretty sure that George would agree that it is time for teachers to start bringing out the "big guns." I wish I knew what that meant for our profession. I know, for sure, all teachers need to get involved in educating everyone we can about the hurtful, destructive policies being applied to education. I know, for sure, teachers cannot do this alone. I know, for sure, if our profession is being attacked, so too are administrators and superintendents and it is time for all leaders to respectfully share how devastating the testing has been for the children and the teachers. I know it is time to notify all the lawmakers to make sure they really understand the ramifications of the various policies they will be voting on.

So, I don't have a big sign to stick in my lawn but when I say, "It's On," I mean it. George would want me to speak up for the kids just like he spoke up for his elderly neighbors. I will contact legislators, news sources, anyone who will listen. They cannot ignore us forever just like the power company finally had to help out George and Nancy. Here is where the advice my dad gave will make the most sense. I will be patient, I will persevere, I will not stop until the situation changes. I will expect our leaders to find their senses and finally, finally do what is right for the children. By golly.

Veteran's Day 2014

Veteran's Day 2014

We have just completed the first ten weeks of school. I am home today celebrating the men and women who fight for us to enjoy great freedoms. Veterans Day. The meaning of this day is not lost on me. My dad was a WWII veteran. My brother fought in Vietnam and was my first living, breathing example of a hero.  My kids have friends who now are in service to their country either in active duty or as reservists. I continue to be amazed at those who choose to sacrifice their personal freedoms to protect those of others.

My kids and I have just spent the day researching and, ultimately, purchasing new cell phones. Funny--there seems to be some irony there. You see, we live in a great country where much time and effort went into protecting our freedoms from any kind of tyranny.  Inherent in the notion of America is the fierce individual who stands on its own and answers to none. Maybe you already see where I am going with this.

The cell phone hysteria. IPhone this and Droid that.. Everyone needs, no,... has to have one!!! No one is safe without one, right? The incredulous looks when you try to explain that there once was a time before cell phones are quite amusing.

It really is interesting when you stop to think about it.  The fiercely independent, devil may care American cannot live without a cell phone.  A device used to call for help in case of an emergency. You know, in case we are abducted. It happens all the time, right?

I was especially struck by the irony when the new IPhone I purchased offered me the opportunity to sign into the phone with my fingerprint. Hmm. Let me get this straight, I am buying a device that will track my every move, that authorities can use to see who I have been talking with and what I have been saying through my texts, they can see what I have searched on the internet and what videos I have viewed on Youtube. I am paying a monthly fee for this service and, oh by the way, would you be so kind as to SIGN IN WITH YOUR FINGERPRINT thereby providing us with all your personal information we need to completely watch you 24-7?

 And we all feel we #CANNOTLIVEWITHOUTTHESEDEVICES!!!  This has been masterfully orchestrated, implemented, manipulated. It is so prevalent in our society and no one even recognizes what has happened.

The irony is not lost on me on Veteran's Day. Thank you to all the Veterans in my life and everyone else's. We are free to give away those freedoms because of you. We are free to surrender all our personal information to cell phone companies who gleefully accept our hard earned money in exchange for our own hand held personal tracking device.

You know what else is ironic? That so much of our society thinks teachers are the problem to nearly every ill in society. Now that is really something we should think about. All this talk about personal tracking devices aka cell phones, that is just nonsense. Teachers! Those are the ones who need to be scrutinized. Teachers! Part of the "monopoly " of public schools that our esteemed Governor Andrew Cuomo spoke of. Teachers! Who need to sign documents of non-disclosure before scoring the NYS Assessments that will ultimately impact their careers. Teachers! Hey, stop thinking about those phones!!! Focus!!

It's the TEACHERS THAT NEED WATCHING!

Do you get it now?

Rebuilding Our Classrooms

"Teachers have the entire summer off! What a cake job!"  
 ..........said no teacher ever. 

This is a popular refrain often tossed around when the topic of the teaching profession comes up. Even close family members of mine have been known to joke about my “blissful summers of rest and relaxation.” In the past, I would smile and nod while quietly thinking how little they really know about the teaching profession. There may actually have been adolescent eye rolling taking place. Guilty.

Now, I am much more likely to patiently explain how many days I have actually gone into my classroom to work on it. First, I must address the quizzical look – yes, we (teachers) must take down much of the beautiful environment we create before we leave in June. That involves much packing, storing, sorting etc. And, that is if we are lucky enough not to have been told our room was changed for the following year. Room Change Packing is a whole other process requiring packing boxes (maybe provided, maybe not) packing tape (maybe provided, maybe not) labels to identify all your stuff (one for you to duplicate and hand tape on all boxes) and a huge ordeal to survive. Some teachers do this multiple times throughout their careers. Aviva on her "Living Avivaloca" blog talks about this at length and describes some of the summer conversations and meetings that take place.

So, what does this have to do with teachers working in the summer? (Still the quizzical look) All those items that have been packed must be unpacked and put back where they belong. 

Wall displays are created, bulletin boards built, shelves uncovered and filled, desks moved to the right grouping, desk set up, signs around the room, art supply bins refilled, calendar set up, desks moved to a better grouping, tables shifted to create center possibilities..  (ok here is where the eyes begin to dart around the room. I am beginning to lose my audience.) I teach 6^th. I haven’t begun to explain what the primary teacher must prepare.

This is a process that takes multiple days. Simply setting the same room back up takes at least three days.

If you moved your room, it will easily take a week to unpack all the boxes. This is all done during those blissful endless weeks of summer, once you know it is ok with the maintenance to reenter the building. This unpacking can occur as late as the last few days of August especially if there was construction over the summer in your building. When there is construction, there is always the possibility that it won’t be done in time for you to get into your room at all before school starts. My first year in my current district, school started before all the windows were in. No teachers were to enter before the first day of school because the floors were not in yet.I had unknowingly entered to put up a bulletin board; administration was not happy with me.

Then, I remind my listener of the professional development classes that teachers attend during the summer. (Wrinkling of the forehead occurs here) Our district requires one work day over the summer. Teachers who sign up to write curriculum may use one of those days to meet that requirement. Then you may be advised to attend training for a new curriculum. While voluntary, it can be critical information conveyed at those trainings that is necessary for the start of the year. For me this year, I have written curriculum for three days, attended staff development  for another three days and attended a union workshop another day. Others I know have worked on curriculum topics for six days in addition to workshops they may take. Clearly it varies but that is close to two weeks work during those “blissful endless weeks of summer” for me.

At this point my listener sidles off to chat with another family member, eyes darting back and forth apologetically signaling with a nod of the head in the direction of the new chat partner.

Of course, I understand.

The perception of teaching being a great job with summers off is much easier to process. I still believe it is a great job, make no mistake about that. But, it can be a challenge for non-educators to actually imagine all the work that goes on to make that first day magical for your students. The two weeks of professional development and curriculum work combined with the days spent recreating my classroom will total three to four weeks of work easily. Do the math. I was done on June 26^th this year. Of the nine weeks of summer, I actually was working for four of them, leaving five “blissful endless weeks of summer” to catch up on everything I had let go during the school year. Some teachers actually travel and go on family vacations during that time. But no teacher ever really “turns off” the job. Anywhere we go, we notice ideas or items to use in our classroom. Conversations with other teachers are seldom free of work references. Students notice us out and we are “the teacher” again.

Today it seems teachers are defending themselves on a regular basis. I don’t mind explaining if it will help to clarify how very hard teachers work. I don’t mind explaining if maybe, just maybe, my listener will gently push back the next time they hear 

“Teachers have the entire summer off! What a cake job!” 

We are your neighbors, your friends, your sisters, your brothers, your aunts, your uncles. We haven’t spent one second disparaging your professions. Why has it become commonplace to disparage teachers? And so, I am happy to defend, explain, and educate others about the profession of teaching. That’s what we do. We teach.