adventures in inner city education

Visit me at Inspired Teaching

2007-05-30T20:33:00.000-04:00

I'm not updating this blog any more, but I post occasionally to the blog for Center for Inspired Teaching, where I am now overseeing classroom-based research on teacher change, teacher leadership, and student-centered teaching.

Find out more about this *absolutely wonderful* organization at www.inspiredteaching.org.

Thanks for checking in!

A Shame

2007-01-11T07:47:00.000-05:00

The latest update on my previous place of employment: They're closing the school. Enrollment has dropped severely during my former principal's reign of error, and the Washington Post recently reported that the school boasts a $600,000 budget deficit this year. So, on the 85th anniversary of the founding of the historically African American parish, the school will close, leaving one less educational option for families in DC's Anacostia neighborhood.

Don't even get me started on the failings of the archdiocese-led consortium that was supposed to 'save' the school from closing, but instead, allowed an admittedly incompetent administrator to keep her job and run the school into the ground...

What I Did with my Summer Vacation

2006-07-28T12:27:00.000-04:00

Thought I might as well share this piece, which is an essay I was asked to write for a job application.

***
What is the difference between teaching students what to think and teaching them how to think? What role can research play in bringing about this kind of transformation in schooling?

When a teacher’s goal shifts from covering material to creating habits of mind, radically different instructional strategies emerge in the classroom. The most dynamic educators I know expect their students to be producers, not consumers, of knowledge, and they see their job as one of providing structured opportunities for learners to engage actively with required content. My senior English teacher assigned Their Eyes Were Watching God but skipped the usual lectures on the author’s historical context; instead, she asked us to produce a Harlem Renaissance-themed variety show. My dissertation advisor, a Stanford full professor, culminates his annual undergraduate survey class with a mini-conference where students present collaborative research projects and produce a volume of papers of near-publishable quality. A fantastic fifth-grade teacher I know integrates science, history, and language arts in a theme cycle on sound. His students research the history of sound recording devices, make posters on all the traditional stuff about soundwaves and eardrums, and then produce podcasts of poetry readings. In each of these teaching contexts, learners move beyond pencil-and-paper exercises that require a prescribed answer. They get into the thick of intellectual life, where questions are generated, not assigned, and the way of asking is just as important as the answer. Requiring students to exercise their intellects in this way is the difference between telling them what to think and asking them to learn how to think.

An emphasis on student research can transform a classroom, but action/activist research has the potential to transform the entire school system. While the currently-fashionable rhetoric of “accountability” and “data-driven instruction” often masks an agenda that maintains inequities in educational quality and resources, the potential of research-based innovation as a catalyst for progressive reform cannot be underestimated. Scholarly research can influence teacher attitudes and practices if and when it is presented in a digestible, practical form; and participation in research studies can support teachers in becoming more reflective and effective in the classroom.

My own work with urban elementary teachers provides an illustration of the power of research for fostering teacher change. In a district where the teaching staff was mostly white and the student population was largely African American, cultural and linguistic differences contributed to low teacher expectations, and in turn, student underachievement. I designed and evaluated a classroom intervention that incorporated key insights of sociolinguistic research, preparing teachers to respond more effectively to their students’ dialect by avoiding spot correction of nonstandard dialect forms, recognizing the cultural value of African American language, and using children’s literature to engage students in critical discussions of language use. My evaluation--which relied on language attitude surveys, interviews with teachers and students, dozens of hours of classroom observation, and analysis of the written work of nearly 300 students--concluded that integrating research on language variation into the elementary classroom made a positive, measurable difference for both teachers and students. When I compared the attitudes of teachers who just participated in a training workshop with the attitudes of their colleagues who attended a workshop and tried out sociolinguistic ideas in the classroom, the teachers who had gotten hands-on practice showed greater changes in their attitudes, and their students did better as well. This is yet another illustration of the difference between active and passive engagement with ideas—and evidence that no matter what the age of the learner, or the topic at hand, hands-on means minds-on.

Rave critical reviews

2006-07-18T18:25:00.000-04:00

Today I got a nice email from the pre-K teacher today about the class book we wrote at the end of the year:

Ms. Sweetland,

I have spent a few hours reading your classes writings. THEY DID A WONDERFUL JOB! I could not put it down! You did a great job with your class! That book is SUPER! They put a lot of effort into their work and make the audience FEEL their words. I really enjoyed reading it. Congrats to YOU and the FANTASTIC FIFTH GRADE CLASS! It was a pleasure!!!

Ms. H

School's Out

2006-06-12T19:36:00.000-04:00

The chairs and desks are stacked, the books are inventoried, and the story rug has been rolled up. School's out!

The year ended with a bang. The day after the First Lady's visit, we had our Fifth Grade Graduation and the kids were absolutely on fire. Rakia read "Still I Rise" with extreme poise. Jada, who is perfect in every way, got her wish of being the MC for the ceremony. And the group brought down the house with their perfectly-choreographed performance of a song and dance from the newest hit movie for the 'tween set, "High School Musical."

As for me--I'm back in California already, trying to finish up that pesky dissertation. So...no more "adventures in inner city education" for the time being. Please check back in the fall!

First Lady's visit

2006-06-05T23:19:00.000-04:00

What a day! The First Lady's visit went off without a hitch. Okay, well maybe one small hitch:

http://news.yahoo.com/photo/060605/480/a24db68ac4184d2ea385ef8b1f786eab

But other than that, it was a wonderful event. The kids were on the verge of exploding with joy--and trust me, these are no Bush fans in general!

As a bonus, they actually brought us the check. And looks like I'm in for a promotion of some sort...meet with the exectuive director again later this week.

Even better!

2006-06-03T08:54:00.000-04:00

Our visitor wants a couple of my kids to read for her from our new class book! Now *that's* classroom publishing for you!

Young Author's Night

2006-06-01T07:34:00.000-04:00

In other news, the Fantastic Fifth Grade had their end-of-year poetry and prose reading. We turned the classroom into a 'coffee shop,' borrowed a mike from the church, snagged the podium from the school entryway, and used the overhead projector as a spotlight.

Each student got to read as many of their selections from the class book as they wanted, another benefit of having only ten students. I made the event mandatory so there was a fantastic turnout. The captive audience, however, enjoyed themselves immensely.

Anthony cracked everyone up with his slightly racy (for a ten-year-old) essay entitled, "I Love Angelina Jolie." "It would be nice to marry her, but Brad Pitt is obviously in the way. I'll have to deal with him later. The baby is a problem, too. To fulfill my fantasy, I have to kiss her, just once. Her lips are so big it makes me want to bite them." His father was literally falling out of his chair with laughter. Anthony finished with, "I'm obsessed with Pamela Anderson, too, but that's a whole 'nother story."

Rajanique thrilled us with her brilliant narrative about the day she ran her head into the wall and had to go get stitches. She organized her story so that it started in the middle--sheer genius for a fifth grader. "I was hot and sticky and hungry and tired. It was eight o clock at night and the doctor was finally stitching up my head. I was thinking; Will I still be able to play? Will I be able to lay down? Will I still be beautiful?" The tale included a gripping scene of me running across the playground to rescue her, and pressing my (new, cashmere) glove to her head to stop the blood. I felt like an action hero. And I felt like an actual hero when she drew the biggest applause of the night--she's a student that most folks might not think to applaud otherwise.

There's lots more to say about the evening but I am running short on time. Suffice it to say that the fifth grade (and their teacher) is having a pretty decent end of year. Tomorrow is our end-of-year field trip. Monday, our VIP visitor is coming, and we'll practice for our graduation ceremony. Tuesday, the kids graduate...and that's it!

Close Hold

2006-06-01T07:00:00.000-04:00

In December, over Mrs. H's active and passive discouragement, I submitted a grant asking for money for library books to the Laura Bush Foundation. The school hasn't spent a dime on book acquisitions in probably ten years, as there have been no dimes to spend on such a luxury. I couldn't deal with it, and whipped up a piddly little $5000 proposal.

We were supposed to hear by the end of May. Yesterday morning I said to my partner, "Well, we still haven't heard, so I guess I didn't get it." Always the optimist, he replied, "The day isn't over yet." I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, dismayed that my honestly kick-ass proposal must have been rejected because our enrollment is so low.

An hour later I got a call from the director of the Laura Bush Foundation. Not only had I won the grant, but they were so impressed with the application that they wanted to come present the check in person at our school. The White House later told me to keep the name of the visitor "close hold," which made me feel immensely cool, since I once heard that phrase on The West Wing. So I am not at liberty to divulge the name of the person who is coming to the school to present the check from the Laura Bush Foundation. I can say it's not Joe Wilson's wife.

The VIPs imminent arrival has thrown the school into a tizzy. The district has gotten involved and now there is a long list of "our" VIPs who want to attend. Only a handful will get to be in the room with the presenter--none of them gave a flying fuck about the grant when I wrote it, but now they're all interested.

Anyway, this is a huge success for the school, even if it is turning into a political football. I will get a couple of my students in the room and I'm sure they'll be thrilled.

Oh, and when the principal held an emergency meeting to announce that we couldn't take down our bulletin boards just yet, she started it off by saying, "I gave Ms. Sweetland a proposal to submit a while back..."

Underwhelming response

2006-05-02T19:50:00.000-04:00

Met with the executive director of our district today. She offered a very sweet apology and assured me I was "valued." Also told me that she knew that "our leadership was totally inadequate." I told her I didn't want to make the meeting about a personality conflict (with the principal) and she said, "This isn't about personality. It's about skill level."

All that was vaguely reassuring, but gets me nothing. They're willing to place me at another school for next year, but now I'm not so sure I want that any more. I started this year thinking that the most important job I could do was to teach...but this year has shown me just how vital good school leadership can be. So, I've dusted off the resume, am looking around...

74% of teachers in low-income schools leave within three years. Never feels great to be a statistic...

The House on Mango Street

2006-05-01T19:57:00.000-04:00

Any of you who know me know that Sandra Cisneros is one of my favorite writers and The House on Mango Street is my favorite novel to teach. I've taught it at levels ranging from 4th grade to high school seniors and it's always a hit because I ask my students to write their own personal versions of the novel.

I usually teach the book at the beginning of hte year because what students write gives me a great insight into their lives. For instance, today I learned that Arneshia, who frequently arrives late and sleepy, sleeps in the living room of her apartment. Anthony, of the questionable hygiene and messy braids, hasn't had hot water in months. They heat up some water on the stove and add it to the tub, although, as Anthony noted, "that doesn't really work." My top three students just happen to also be the only ones who haven't moved at all during their elementary years. "I don't remember when we moved into the house on V Street," writes William, "because I was born there. But my mom says she doesn't even remember, it's been so long."

Keep checking for posts from their books...these are always good.

Caterpillar watch

2006-05-01T15:39:00.000-04:00

Our schoolyard is a bit overrun with caterpillars. Cute, fat, fuzzy ones, the kind with 'eyes' all down their backs.

The kids are fascinated or repulsed, according to temperment (and gender, to my horror). Jada, who is perfect in every way, asked me if we could bring some in and keep them in a jar. What Jada wants, Jada gets, so we scooped up three of the fat little buggers and made them a ramshackle home in an old sour pickle jar.

After an hour or so, I snuck a peek and felt awful because it looked to me like they had all died. They wouldn't be the first critters to succumb to a bad case of too much ten-year-old lovin'. But what to tell the ten-year-olds?

I should have had more faith. Apparently the caterpillars hadn't died, they had just gone into some sort of temporary hibernation before spinning their cocoon. So cool! So now we have three fuzzy white cocoons living in our pickle jar. The kids check in on them almost hourly. No changes, but they keep looking. I pulled out the magnifying glasses so they could investigate more closely.

Tomorrow we'll read a short article on insect metamorphosis. If our school had a real library, I'd pull out all the books on butterflies and watch the kids dip into those. As it is, a couple of seductively-placed encylopedia articles will have to do...

I love "not teaching" science!

Spring break...sort of

2006-04-12T00:56:00.000-04:00

The kids aren't out until Good Thursday, but I'm already on 'vacation.' Before school started, I negotiated 7 professional development days with the district so that I could attend conferences and maintain my academic stuff-strutting. The American Educational Research Association's annual meeting is this week, and I was scheduled to give a talk. It's a tough conference to get accepted to, so I was pretty psyched to get to go. Paper went well. Principal, however, was totally annoyed that I was going to miss 3 1/2 days of school.

I left foolproof lesson plans, I think, but I'm not expecting any of the work to be done. The 'subs' in our building are just poached kindergarten/Pre-K aides, women who are wonderful with the 3-4-5 year old set, but barely literate. The principal is either too cheap or too isolated to get it together to recruit and pay for real substitutes. Whenever I've been out this year, the kids end up playing kickball all day instead of doing any of the work I leave. The same is true when other teachers miss. I feel a bit guilty that my students will not be learning a damn thing while I'm gone, but it's not my job to hire substitutes...and damn, how many fifth graders in Anacostia get a teacher who needs to take off to present at the AERA?

Meanwhile, I'm at Stanford, enjoying being treated like a human being with a brain and something to contribute to the world. The longer this year goes on, the less I think I'll be in the classroom next year...

A great literature letter

2006-04-02T19:23:00.000-04:00

From my weekly assignment, in which children write me a letter describing what they're reading, and I write back...

Dear Ms. Sweetland,

The poem I was reading is called Phenomenal Woman By Maya Angelou. It is a very good poem.

I think Maya Angelou could be a version of me when I grow up. I want to be a black poet too. I hope Maya Angelou would still be living so I can meet her.

Ms. Sweetland what was the first poem you ever read about Maya Angelou? How did it make you feel? The first poem I ever read was Life Does Not frighten me at All. It made me felt that I should not be scared of anything.

Tearful, curious,

Rakia,

Dear Rakia,

Thank you for your letter. I am so pleased that you are thinking of taking poetry more seriously. As I tell you all the time you are a natural poet.

The first poem I ever read by Maya Angelou was “Still I Rise.” It is a beautiful poem about overcoming oppression. I read it in my 12th grade English class. I had already read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Angelou’s autobiography, in 9th grade. But as it turned out, I liked her poetry better. I always almost cry whenever I hear or read “Still I Rise.”

Why did you sign your letter ‘tearful’? And what do you think makes “Phenomenal Woman” a good poem?

Can’t wait for your next letter!

Your fan,

Ms. Sweetland

Changing the Subject

2006-03-16T15:59:00.000-05:00

In a pinch, I teach poetry.

Given all that's been going on, I hadn't spent much time on planning. Faced with a long stretch of time and not a lot of preparation, I pulled out William Carlos Williams' famous poem 'This Is Just to Say.'

This Is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

by William Carlos Williams

I prefaced the poem with the story behind it...it started as a note to his wife, and when he found it later, he realized it was in perfect meter. The personal story always hooks the kids. Then I asked:

What makes these words a poem?
Do you think William C. Williams was really sorry?
Have you ever done anything that made you feel like you needed to say ‘forgive me,’ but you were secretly glad you did?

Then I had the kids write their own 'apology' poems. (This is a lesson idea I stole from someone else long ago.) Here are a few.

Paper Cut
I am sorry, paper
for cutting you really really fast

That's why you are probably in pieces right now

I was cutting fast
and drowned you in glue

I know you're really angry
but it was just for fun

Sorry

--Marquette

"My Cellphone"

This is just to say
I'm sorry for losing you for a week
in my dad's car
you might have been so lonely
just sitting there waiting for someone to find you
you were just sitting under
the dark black scary car seat
anyway
i apologize

--William

"To the Paper"

I always took pencils.
I scribbled all on you.
I balled you up and threw you
right in the trash.

I know you always wanted to stay alive
but I have to put you in the garbage
that is just how it is.

Don't blame me if you don't stay white.
But I am sorry
for using you

-Alexus

"That Old Door"

the door that i slam
when i'm mad at my teaher
and the paint comes off

this is just to say
i slammed you
and you fell down

-Rajanique

And my favorite...based on a true story.

"Sorry, Car."

Sorry I drove you
and crashed you
into another car.
To me you looked so fun.
I thought it would be very easy.
I didn't really mean to scratch you
and leave a big dent in the front.

But you shouldn't blame me.
Blame my sisters and cousins.
Could you find a way to forgive us
Deep in your engine?

Back in the 21st century!

2006-03-09T19:55:00.000-05:00

Have internet access at home again! So will be posting more regularly. For real, this time.

All moved into a beautiful 4-bedroom house with the aforementioned Fabulous Other Fifth Grade Teacher with a PhD, btw.

Like clockwork

2006-03-01T11:18:00.000-05:00

Hormones hit on March 1 in the fifth grade. Every year. From sea to shining sea. On Valentine's Day, there's nothing. No coded "will he know what this means?" messages sent in the little tiny V-day cards, no "who likes who" lists going around the room supposedly unnoticed. Two weeks later, though, it's all Boy-Girl Issues, all the time.

Signs of this Mass Onset of Puberty have included one boy shaving his "mustache." He had an ashy upper lip for a week, which is the first time any of us ever noticed there was something going on in that particular region of his face. Also, the class diva "started" and made sure to let me, and everyone in the class know in one way or another by the end of the day. I mean, how many times can you really drop a tampon in one day? Seriously.

The social issues can sometimes feel like a distraction, but I try to remember that the gender stuff is just as important a part of the kids' development as the mind-stretching I intend. I try to stay conscious of just how cute, how normal, how inescapable all this "kid stuff" is. And it's interesting to see how subtly things have changed since I discovered my body, and boys, as interesting topics. We used to use little paper 'fortune tellers' or paper-and-pencil games to invent "couples" out of our class roster. The girls in my class have discovered an online tool that does all the name-matching for them. (Adults, of course, design and market the site--another example of the commodification of childhood.)

Managing all this rush of human development in a positive direction takes a lot of energy, patience, and knowledge. And time! Yet another argument for giving experienced teachers freedom and control over the pace and focus of their curriculum and class time. An argument against 'departmentalizing' elementary classrooms. Does counseling an eleven-year-old on how to tell the difference between needing to change your tampon from needing to pee fall under science, social studies, or language arts? Math, maybe--it's a timing issue, after all.

Things You Only Hear During Black History Month

2006-02-28T20:01:00.000-05:00

This might be one of those conversations where you had to be there, but here it goes:

Me: "What was George Washington Carver's claim to fame, class?"
Ernest: "He invented peanuts!"
Me:"Um, not quite, but you're on the right track."
Ernest: "Oooooh. Right. *GOD* invented peanuts. George Washington Carver invented *peanut butter.*"

Cold, cold world

2006-02-21T22:51:00.000-05:00

No heat today.

It's 22 degrees outside.

This is the second day this year this has happened. Last time, at 10:30--after the children had been shivering in their coats for two and a half hours, and there was no word from the principal as to when we could expect the heat to return--I made the executive decision to call my children's parents and inform them that there was no heat in the building. Almost every parent came immediately to retrieve their child.

For this, my principal literally cussed me out. "You made me look like a damn fool! I can't deal with this. I'm through with you." And she stormed out.

So this time, I was a little more circumspect, communicating to the children that I wouldn't call their parents, but I had contracted a rare, and temporary, disease that made cell phones invisible to me. By ten am, I was down to two students.

We did eventually end up closing the building this time, but only because the principal was out sick and in her absence most of the teachers were ready to stage a mutiny.

I again would like to point out the SHEER ABSURDITY of anyone saying that money doesn't make a difference in education. In this case, the lack of funds for building maintenance and upkeep had the following direct effects on the learning of my students:

*Eight hours of planned instructional time were lost.
*One of those hours *would* have been a special guest teacher,an expert in African history, who had prepared a wonderful lesson on the leader of hte Black Consciousness movement, Steven Biko. Yesterday was the only time that teacher was available. Because of the heat, my kids will miss out entirely on that learning experience.
*Children were understandably upset that the heat was out, and verbalized a lot of resentment toward the school, the principal, and society in general.
*The teaching staff is demoralized, angry, and resentful that we are asked to work in such conditions. This, obviously, is not conducive to the inspired teaching that our students need and deserve.

Overall, this is the 4th day of teaching that has been wasted due to lack of basic amenities (either water or heat).

My question is this: Are they going to schedule the standardized test one week later?

I know, I know

2006-02-06T14:40:00.000-05:00

I haven't been blogging. I've been having trouble with my internet connection at home, and I'm too scared (and too busy) to write at school. I do, however, have some posts all ready to go as soon as I am online again properly. Please keep checking!

Never enough

2006-02-02T14:42:00.000-05:00

Ms. T, the parent who complained that her daughter was reading too much, paid me another visit. "Taylor's bored," she said, quite bitchily. "I just don't think you're challenging her."

"That's upsetting for me to hear," I replied diplomatically, "since I've been modifying Taylor's assignments quite a bit. Did she tell you she's writing a play?"

"Yes, she showed us. But what about Social STudies homework?"

"It's on a historical topic. I had her research Harriet Tubman, the Underground Railroad, and slavery to find facts to make her play more historially accurate."

"Well, yes, she showed us that." Totally unimpressed.

For those of you who might be impressed, here is Taylor's play. It's a work in progress but under my tutelage it has grown from a few lines in her journal into what you see below. Enjoy!

**************************************
Once Upon
by Taylor T

Characters:

SAMANTHA is a 12 year old growing up to be a girly young lady.
ALEXUS a 12 year old and loves to be on the scene and is an inspiring director.
TAYLOR is a 12 year old and is a social butterfly that likes everyone and everything.
BRANDAN is a 12 year old and is a sports jock that can’t wait until practice.
MELINA is a loving 13 year old who loves all animals and all people and is a very quiet person.
LEAH is a 12 year old who loves to read and loves listening to stories and wants to become a writer one day.
GRANDMA is an elderly woman about 69, and loves to tell her grandchildren about the past.
HARRIET is a tough slave woman our major character.
MESSENGER is a person who helps Harriet gather up slaves to take away from slavery.
OTHERS are people who are slaves wanting to be free.
HELPER is a person that helps the slaves by hiding them in their house for the Under Ground Railroad.

{The children and Grandma sit down and listen carefully to what she has to say.}

SAMANTHA :What was it like in slavery, Grandma, and tell us stuff we don’t know.
MELINA :We already know that slavery was down south, and that the northern states had a bad fight with southern states called the Civil War.
GRANDMA : Well, I’m not going to tell you any of that {quietly say now}well it was harsh, hard, and everyone was pickin’ cotton every single day.

{Slaves sing Swing Low while picking the cotton.}
GRANDMA: And a messenger whispers in the dark.
Messenger :{whispering }Harriet Tubman is escapin’ and I’m goin’ wit’ her, if ya’ll want to come, and meet us at the courtyard.
OTHERS : {scared/ worried}Are, are we goin’ to get caught?
MESSENGER : {confident}No, not wit Harriet.
TAYLOR: {Anxious} Did they get caught Grandma?
ALEXUS: Did they use the Underground Railroad?
GRANDMA: {Surprised} Yes and this is how the railroad worked.
HARRIET: {serious} Ok, we goin bust out of here.
MESSENGER :Who’s wit hur.
OTHERS :Yeah!
HARREIT : So, we goin’ straight forward.
MESSENGER : { whisper}Hush, somebody’s callin’ my name.
{ Run aways sing Hush, Actors on the side call out names in a small voice}
LEAH :People helped them right ?
GRANDMA:Oh, yes and most of those people were white.
SAMANTHA: {Surprised} Really Grandma I thought that only blacks helped blacks.
GRANDMA :That’s how it usually was but there were some people that were against slavery and they wanted to help in any way possible.
TAYLOR:And how,
BRANDAN: {impatient} can we please go on with the rest of the story because I have to go to basketball practice in a little and I really want to here the rest of the story.
GRANDMA : OK, Brandon we’ll hurry, and the person usually helping will put them in a hiding place.
HELPER :Hide in the barn, I have a hidden floor patch under some of my hay.
OTHERS : we really appreciate this.
HELPER :No time I can already hear the horses outside.
MELINA: Did the owners find them?
GRANDMA : No, because they were so well hidden.
BRANDON : Grandma can you give us some examples of where they will hide?
GRANDMA: Well, they will usually hide them in barns, cabinets under hay, and even in trick doors.
MELINDA: Will the world ever go back to being like that?
GRANDMA: no, because of the Civil War.
BRANDON : where was Harriet Tubman a slave?
GRANDMA : She was a slave in Maryland.
SAMANTHA : really?
GRANDMA : Yes, she was.
ALEXUS: Where did they go after the Under Ground Railroad?
GRANDMA: They went to the north,
ALL: Why?
{ Actors hold hands and say free at last 3 xs}
GRANDMA : Cause that’s where they were free!!!!!!!!!
Brandan it’s about time for your practice, now come on!
SAMANTHA: Thanks for the great story Grandma.
GRANDMA: You are quite welcome, Ok, everyone coats on!
{Pretend as if by the car}
LEAH: Grandma, one day can you take us to a museum about black history?
GRANDMA: I’ll take you as soon as possible.
ALL: Yeah!
TAYLOR: All aboard the Under Ground Express!!
{All laugh}
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ THE END

Hmmm...wonder why they can't pay attention

2006-01-31T15:36:00.000-05:00

The water went out yesterday at around 11. Kids can definitely deal with not getting a drink for an hour or two...but not being able to flush the toilet is a bit of a problem, especially after lunch. They have to pee. Hell, I have to pee. It's hard to learn, and teach, when you have to go! (See previous post on hall passes for more on this...)

Got to the building this morning, and still no water. Administration is dealing with this in the typical fashion...which is to tell teachers absolutely nothing. Unless you count the smell from the restrooms as an official announcement...

A full day of instructional time compromised...and I still GOTTA GO!

Not fair, not fair, not fair.

Renewal

2006-01-03T01:22:00.000-05:00

Now at the tail-end of sixteen days off of school. Just settling down now (at 10:22 pm) to work on stuff for tomorrow and the week to come. While I'm a bit pressed for time now, I feel refreshed, having not so much as touched a spelling test or math paper for over two weeks.

Tomorrow, back to the grind. The day after Christmas break is one of my favorite days of the school year, as it is like a second chance at the first day of school, only now you know the kids.

Have a New Year's Resolution to Blog Religiously. Quality may go down, but quantity will certainly increase...which I don't feel too bad about, as my brother's resolution is to Eat More Bacon...I'm at least beating that one.

Happy New Year, all!

Snow Day!

2005-12-09T10:02:00.000-05:00

Yaaay!

Arneshia

2005-12-08T20:02:00.000-05:00

Arneshia is a beauty waiting to bloom. She's a perfect cocoa-brown, and her almond-shaped eyes are rimmed with the longest of eyelashes. At sixteen or eighteen she'll be a knockout. Right now, she's not the boys' type. A little too chubby and she doesn't get her hair done often enough. A little too quick to actually catch the pop-up when we play kickball.

Arneshia is a round-the-way girl. She lives in one of the apartment complexes that is a nerve center for neighborhood intrigue and local knowledge. She knows who got shot most recently and how and when to talk about it. She can do all the currently popular dances, even the heel-toe, which the other girls in the class say they don't like because they can't do it yet.

Arneshia has a temper. Little things set her off. If she doesn't called on right away, she might start crying. When her missing pencil turns up under someone else's desk, she might push or pinch the putative pilferer. (Sorry; couldn't resist.) Last year she kicked her teacher.

Arneshia is behind. She reads at a third-grade level, at best. Last week I made some time to work with her one-on-one and she took a full ninety seconds to figure out eight minus one. Her vocabulary is sorely lacking. We played I-Spy yesterday and she couldn't come up with the word for a display case. "That thing, there, with the stuff in it." This is her definition for many items.

Arneshia hides. She writes the longest book reports in the class to cover up the fact that she didn't understand a single word she read. She picks fights with Ernest five minutes before math starts to give her an excuse to check out of the day's lesson. If Ernest is absent or unusually pacifist, she might try to pick a fight with me. If I ask her if she needs help, she gets offended. If I don't ask, she pouts because I'm neglecting her.

Arneshia is...ashamed? scared? insecure? She once said, aloud, that she hates herself. She cheats constantly to disguise her lack of skills. She cries easily and often. It's clear that the anger she shows outwardly so often is also burning a deep wound inside.

I love Arneshia, but she terrifies me. I'm more comfortable with the students in the middle, the students who could compete on any academic stage but haven't been invited or even auditioned because of their skin color and their address. I'm confident that I'm a good teacher for those children. I'm not as sure-footed with students who are two or more years behind and have developed counterproductive coping skills to compensate. Do my three fancy degrees and my years of personal and professional experience add up to an ability to be counselor, tutor, and teacher?

Arneshia will tell...

Marquette missed his meds today

2005-11-18T16:00:00.000-05:00

Oooh, buddy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy. Words just can't convey the things that child came up with today. You just had to be there.

But if anyone can explain this one, I'd appreciate it: "Ms. Sweetland! I can't sleep without my Pandora bear."

There's social studies, and then there's social studies

2005-11-16T18:20:00.000-05:00

In the midst of kicking myself for not having gotten up to the Revolutionary War during the first quarter of Social Studies, I realized that I have been teaching my little butt off in civics and government. Before school started, I decided that since Anacostia is experiencing so much (re)-development, I really should engage the kids in studying the changes in their own neighborhood. So, being the good little academic I am, I looked around at local universities to see who was working on related issues. A sociology professor at Georgetown hooked me up with this very enthusiastic and knowledgeable undergraduate who, miraculously, agreed to come teach a little class every week. We've been co-planning and co-teaching some great lessons--his contribution being a working knowledge of DC politics and the time to make up readings and activities, and my contribution being the ability to help him translate his fancy Hoya politics and prose into something 10-year-olds can grasp. (This is also known as 'pedagogical knowledge,' a talent/skill/art that's completely overlooked by Teach for America or other programs designed to attract top-tier graduates to teaching, but that's a topic for another day.)

Between the two of us, we have accomplished some pretty amazing teaching, if I do say so myself. I think I've already mentioned that at the beginning of the year, almost all of my kids located themselves in Washington State when asked to find DC on a map. None knew that DC wasn't a state and they certainly couldn't wrap their minds around the implications of that. Ten weeks later, I have a group of fifth-graders who are debating the pros and cons of the City Council structure, complaining that Eleanor Holmes Norton doesn't have a vote in the House, and making a set of color-coded demographic maps that depict critical poverty indicators for all 8 wards.

I'm pleased with their progress and I love the fact that if someone would have walked into the last lesson and asked my kids what they were doing, they'd say, "Oh, we're making demographic maps of statistical poverty indicators for the 8 wards of DC. I colored Ward 8 Red because it has the highest rate of property crimes."

Or, "I'm coloring Ward 1 green because it has the highest percentage of foreign-born residents. I'm not sure I'd like to live over there. There's a lot of people from other countries and they talk other languages. I might not know what they're saying and they might act all crazy. Over on this side of the river it's 98% African American so I can relate to everyone." Rajanique actually said this as we discussed our maps. Talk about teachable moments!

Anyway, on the horizon we'll be creating a big wall map of Anacostia, locating historical landmarks such as Frederick Douglass' home, and sticking pins in the map to show recently sold property and new buildings, etc. This will involve sitting on the floor and coloring...which is the whole reason I do this job, after all...

Amazing what you can do with a whole day

2005-11-15T21:54:00.000-05:00

Today, for the VERY FIRST TIME of the entire school year, I had my students for the entire day. No assemblies. No mind-numbing religion class or soul-sucking so-called art class. Today, they barely even left for the bathroom.

This day was a milestone because for the last two weeks, there has been an interminable series of major disruptions to our schedule. Halloween/'Harvest Festival.' All Saints' Day Mass. Picture Day. Mandatory once-a-year Sex Ed classes with the Pope-tested, Diocesan-approved nurse. Another Mass, just for general purposes. A 'celebration of Joy' to support our school's Fruit of the Spirit theme. Three half-days for so-called 'professional development' and one day off for Parent-Teacher conferences. And then I did some stupid stuff like take the kids to see Rosa Parks and visit the National Museum of the American Indian.

Anyway the religion teacher is out this week and I don't have any other plan-periods on Tuesdays, so today it was just me and kids, bell to bell. It was really amazing how much we accomplished. I got in a lesson in *every* core subject, even science. I taught a really kick-ass lesson in expository structure, with all the little bells and whistles that literacy instructors love such as graphic organizer and small-group work. I even broke out the Cuisenaire rods to demonstrate how authors "build" and organize a nonfiction informational piece. We took a practice math test, and everyone who didn't get 100% got the reteaching they needed. I read a chapter of From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. We extended it with a minilesson on Michelangelo. The kids chose picture books on Native American cultures and got a good start on reading them. And at the end of the day, the kids created demographic maps of poverty indicators in DC.

'Time on task' in class is a major predictor of student success. I've got the make-the-kids-to-do-their-work part of the equation under control. The part that's out of my control is the amount of time I actually have the kids in my room. My school, like many other schools, is in need of some serious soul-searching and schedule-analyzing if we are to get down to really teaching. Theodore Sizer advocates 'essential' schools, ones where every school activity has to pass the litmus test of "does this really matter?" Plain old effective schools find ways to give teachers planning time while also maximizing kids' learning experiences; I just read about one where classroom teachers have all day Wednesday off--and the kids go to 'specials' such as art, music, and gym. This gives teachers common plan time on their 'off' day and uninterrupted teaching time on their on-days. Sounds idyllic to me...

personal and professional

2005-11-12T20:29:00.000-05:00

Haven't been posting as often because I've been busy falling in love with a fantastic fifth-grade teacher at one of our sister schools. For the record, there's nothing quite as sexy as a man who will grade spelling tests with you on a Friday night. But my weird turn-ons are a whole 'nother topic...

Parent teacher conferences

2005-11-10T21:07:00.000-05:00

The parent who earlier claimed that "reading is not homework" is now so incensed by my teaching style that she went to the principal threatening to pull her child out of the school. Apparently I'm not teaching her daughter anything.

The prospect of this conference cast a pall over the whole day as well as the days leading up to it. It takes a superhuman amount of psychic energy to work 9- and 10-hour days with insufficient resources for $600 fucking dollars a week...only to have someone complain to your boss that you're not doing your job. Anyway to make a long story short by the end of the conference I think I had her convinced that I had *some* inkling of how to teach fifth grade, that my homework policy was sound, and that I was neither a two-headed monster nor a blue-eyed devil. The highlight of the meeting for me was when she COMPLAINED THAT HER DAUGHTER WAS READING TOO MUCH. "There's just no reason that she should have had time to read seven novels already this year."

Um, well, actually, she's read thirteen novels so far this year, ranging from classics such as The Secret Garden to the ever-popular Lemony Snicket series, and I'm pretty fucking proud of that...but hey, I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree.

The rest of the parent conferences restored my energy. Everyone was thrilled with the class's progress and happy that their children were happy. I had to break a lot of bad news about children's skill levels to a lot of parents, but they were all receptive and even grateful for my honest, informed opinion. In the process I made a lot of promises that I now need to keep, and it re-focused me on what really matters: that Arneshia, Tyrone, and Ernest get up to grade-level in reading; that Rakia and Anthony learn to keep up with their papers and finish long-term projects; that the children experience significant academic success and inprovement all day, every day...

Mrs. Parks

2005-10-31T19:58:00.000-05:00

Took the class down to the Capitol today to see Mrs. Rosa Parks lying in honour. The viewing itself was a bit anticlimactic for the children because the casket was closed, but the day as a whole was more than worthwhile. For one thing, even if they didn't fully appreciate it today, they will at some point.

But there was also plenty for the kids to connect to immediately. None had ever been inside the Rotunda--and when I gestured to them all to "look up!" as we waited to file past the mahogany coffin, the somber silence of the sacred space was temporarily interrupted with Anthony's "Whoa! Ooops! Sorry!" After we were outside, the kids were suitably impressed by the view of the Mall, and equally struck with the diversity of the crowd that we watched follow us out--all ages, all races, men and women. After a bit of people watching, I suggested to the children that they ask some of their fellow mourners, "Why are you here today?" The answers they received were better than any history lecture or lesson I could have possibly devised. Greying African Americans recalled the days of segregation and the March on Washington. Aging white liberals spoke of the transformative effect of Parks' inspirational act, a blinding light on the racial road to Damascus that awakened them to greater humanity, greater responsibility. A white woman with a six-month-old daughter bundled against her chest reminded the children of the gendered dimensions of the moment in which Rosa Parks became the mother of the modern Civil Rights movement. And for that matter, the children heard the word "movement" again and again....the words "march," "protest," and "organize" countless times...and experienced for themselves that at significant cultural moments our nation's attention focuses again and again on a few square miles just a few Metro stops away.

So, I didn't manage to get the new spelling words out, but all in all, not a bad Monday's worth of teaching.

Children's Emerging Racial Categories, Part One...

2005-10-27T17:50:00.000-04:00

A week or so ago, while the kids were at music class, I had a chat with our friendly neighborhood nun, who had decided to check in on how I was doing. Not so good, I admitted...and from there we had a conversation that ended up with me in tears. Twenty minutes later I had to pick the kids up from music, still red-faced from crying. Fifth graders being the lovely, tactless creatures that they are, eleven voices instantly called out: "What's wrong with you? You been crying?"

Yes, dear ones, I was, but I'm okay, thanks for asking, you don't need to worry about it. On to other things. And fifth graders being the lovely, self-involved creatures that they are, instantly turned their minds to other things.

Except for Marquette. "Why your face red?" he asked.

"Because I was crying a little bit. I was upset."

"But why your face red?" he asked again.

I thought that maybe he was having a typical does-not-compute Marquette Moment until he added, "My face don't get red when I cry. Why your face get red? I mean, your no-o-o-se all red, your chee-eeks all red, your e-ey-es all red--"

Yeah, I get it, Marquette. I look like shit. Thanks.

But--"Good question, Marquette. Well, my face is red because my blood vessels are a little swollen from crying. Your blood vessels swell too, but it don't show because the brown pigment in your skin covers it up. Since I'm white, I don't have that much pigment, so the red shows through."

Marquette pondered this, giving me a moment to feel very proud of myself for this simple yet elegant response to a child's curious query. After he had digested the new information, he had a follow-up. "Pigment's what makes black people brown?"

"Yes. It's like a chemical that your body makes to color your skin. Everybody has it, but some people have more than others, so that's why we're all different skin colors."

"Okay. Pigment makes us black. White people ain't got no pigment, so you get red when you cry. Now. Here's another thing. Is it a chemical that makes your nose all pointy and mine all round?"

Um...well...see, it's like this.....Dude. Stop asking questions. It's time for math.

Hall passes and other dilemmas of a progressive educator in a repressive school

2005-10-26T21:26:00.000-04:00

Hall passes and other dilemmas of a progressive educator in a repressive school

There are lots of little "teacher tasks" that I really enjoy. I like to put stickers on the tops of papers. I like to put kids' work up on the bulletin board. I take a certain pleasure in arranging kids' desks. But there's one quintessential teacherly chore that I have absolutely no desire to engage in: Giving permission to go to the restroom or the water fountain. I refuse to do this, actually. My kids are allowed to go into the hallway without specific permission and I tell them that I hate it when they ask me to go. Instead, I have a little clothes-pin system in which the kids put a clip by their name on a list by the door as they leave. This way I know who is out of the room, and they can go without interrupting me to ask.

I often hear objections to this idea from other teachers, parents, and non-educators who take an interest in the goings-on in my class: "Won't the kids just leave the room because they feel like it?"

It is true that students sometimes take advantage of my liberal leave policy to 'check out' of class for three or four minutes when they're bored, frustrated, or feeling just plain lazy. This does not concern me in the least, for the following reasons:

a) I am morally opposed to telling others what they can do with their bodies unless I have a damn good reason for it. Teacher or not, I do not have the right to restrict the movement or actions of the individuals in my 'charge' unless the restriction serves some unarguable greater good such as safety or learning.

b) It is valuable information for me as a teacher to know when children are feeling bored or frustrated. They would let me know that in some way or another regardless of my restroom policy. At least this way, I can observe quietly while doing other things instead of having to stop what I'm doing to deal with what the child is doing.

c) Most children would never dream of abusing the policy, and they all appreciate being treated with this level of trust. (It is a sad commentary on our system that trusting ten-year-olds to use the restroom when they see fit is a remarkable act on the part of a teacher.)

d) For those children who do abuse it, I am more comfortable with talking with them about their behavior in a way that gets at the real issue. ("Anthony, I've noticed that you keep leaving the room at the beginning of math, when we do our sixty-second timed drill. Are you feeling pressured by the drill?")

e) Leaving a work-group or other gathering at appropriate times is a skill that must be learned in order to present oneself appropriately in professional settings. Children never get to practice it if you don't provide opportunities. That is: Kids can't learn to be adults unless you treat them like adults to the extent possible. ("Tyrone, it's probably not a good idea to leave the room while I'm giving directions. It's better to wait until the activity has started and you're kind of on your own.")

f) Taking the kids to the bathroom in groups is demeaning to both them and me. Also, they play around in the bathroom if they all go together, and since the girls' and boys' restrooms are on opposite ends of the hallway, I can't monitor both groups simultaneously. Allowing them to go one at a time prevents many a water-fight.

Predictably, my principal has other ideas on this topic. She recently admitted a concern that children were using the restroom too often. "Take your kids in groups. They have to know that they have to control their bladders, that they have to tune them to a schedule, OUR schedule. They can't just urinate whenever they feel the need. Our kids need structure--OUR structure. This is just one way to emphasize to them that they can't just do what they want, that this is a Christian atmosphere and we have rules."

I haven't even bothered to argue about this issue, as any woman who has such a well-developed philosophy regarding the link between urination and the blood of our Savior is clearly not to be trifled with. But I have the feeling that she's on to me. She has cast suspicious looks at the clothespin-wheel at the door, and she keeps sending around memos about the need to monitor children in the restroom. It's probably only a matter of time before the urination hits the fan...

Parent correspondence

2005-10-07T20:12:00.000-04:00

Dear Ms. Sweetland,

I am very concerned that Taylor has not been getting any homework. Why don't you send home work so I can reinforce what is being done at school?

Mrs. T.

***

Dear Mrs. T.,

Thank you for your note. Taylor does receive homework Mondays through Thursdays in the form of the assignment of reading for 30 minutes. She also has to write me one letter a week regarding her reading. However, I understand your concern about reinforcing other skills. Can we talk by phone? I'll call you before the week is out.

Yours in service,

Ms. Sweetland

***

Dear Ms. Sweetland,

Reading is not homework. Does the principal know you are making the kids read every night?

Mrs. T.

From the principal's desk

2005-10-07T19:54:00.000-04:00

Dear Ms. Sweetland,

I looked over your receipts totaling $141.54. I wish you had asked me first before making the purchases, especially the more expensive ones. I checked the school funds and we are quite low. After we receive the lunch money from families I will be able to reimburse you for half. I can then give you the other half later on, maybe after next month's lunch count.

Peace and Love,

Mrs. H.
(Principal)

Dear Mrs. H,

Thank you for your note. I am sorry if I caused any problems; that was not my intention. I did ask about the process of getting supplies, several times, before school started. I got only vague answers from both you and the staff (e.g., "Get what you need, but don't go crazy.) I tried to go by that guideline, but apparently my idea of 'reasonable' was different from yours.

Please consider me a resource for getting more funds into the school. I have considerable experience with grantwriting and have been very successful with it in the past. Also, as you know, I hope to be a principal myself in a few years, so I would consider it a valuable learning experience to be involved with the school's budget.

I know how stressful money problems can be and I apologize if I unintentionally caused you any distress.

Yours in service,

Julie

Marquette's latest

2005-10-06T17:20:00.000-04:00

"If you need me, I'll be in the closet, spreading my rashes."

"I'm present today, but don't you think it would be better for both of us if we both pretended I was absent?"

Trouble in Room 5

2005-10-01T21:01:00.001-04:00

Well, the honeymoon is over. Me and my kids are still in love, so to speak, but behaviorally, they've stopped coming home with flowers every night and taken instead to leaving their underwear on the floor. The things they do to the toothpaste tube are just outrageous.

The most serious incident: My beautiful, freshly-painted pale-aqua walls have been marred with graffiti. With the 'b-word,' no less. We all had a nice long talk about misogyny, vandalism, and our right to a welcoming, positive learning environment. "Whoever did this," I said, "basically cussed us all out and then asked me to paint." I was disappointed, and shocked, and offended, and I told them so.

The kids seemed to take this to heart. "I want to be in a school that's nice," said Rajanique. "This building is all old already, and stuff always be broken, so we don't need to make it no worse. I don't like to use words like this, y'all, but for real, whoever did that, that was triflin.' "

For readers who don't know, "triflin" is about as bad as somebody can get in the inner city. It's even worse than having "no home training." If you don't have home training, you might be rude or gauche from time to time. If you triflin, you don't even brush yo teeth.

The lead suspect for the triflin behavior is tiny, innocent-looking Alexus. Two days before the graffiti appeared in the coat closet appeared, I caught her and Taylor passing notes in which they were trading a long list of insults. "Your stupid." "Your'e dume." Meany...ugly...idiot...

And then:
Hore.
Bitch.

SAY WHAT?

Now since Taylor is an altar server in the parish, and Alexus' family is also part of the church, I knew their parents wouldn't approve of such language. We happened to be having Mass that morning, so I asked the priest to have a little talk with the two girls about keeping Christ on their lips and showing respect for women who are reflections of the Blessed Mother. (Yes, I actually said those things. Nobody at my job even suspects I am an atheist.)

After Mass I put the notes in my desk, called the girls' mothers at work during my lunch break, and after receiving coded promises that their daughters were in for a good ass-whoopin, I forgot all about it. Until three days later, when the b-word showed up on the coat closet wall, in black marker.

Welcome to the pilot episode of CSI: Elementary.

I got the principal and the first-grade teacher and we compared the handwriting from Alexus' note to the writing on the wall. "Both t's are crossed very low," Mrs. Thomas observed. "And look at the i's. The dots are way up high."

"The h's are similar, too," noticed Mrs. H.

"Everything matches but the b's," I said. "And that could be because the word starts right next to this ledge. Her hand would have been smushed at first. And notice how low on the wall it is. Written by a short kid, definitely. I think we've got our perp."

"We can't make it stick unless we get a confession," says Mrs. H.

"I've already talked to Alexus," I said. "She swore it wasn't her."

"Leave it to me," says my principal, with verve. "I'll talk to the mother and see if she can turn up the heat."

Of course, in true form, the principal dropped the ball on getting in touch with the parent, so the case went cold. I talked to the mother some time later, and she said she wanted to come up and take a look at the handwriting herself, but so far, she hasn't come by. Me and the kids taped some thick paper over the offending word, and sooner or later I'll paint over it.

Incidentally, Alexus volunteered to do the painting for me...

2005-09-22T19:01:00.000-04:00

The gym teacher weighs 425 pounds.

Introducing Marquette

2005-09-20T20:44:00.000-04:00

The most challenging student I have is a funny little kid named Marquette. He's been diagnosed with ADD and takes Concerta each morning to keep him somewhat sedated. He can often be found doing the exact opposite of what he's supposed to be doing. However, unlike most other ADD students I've had, he is quite pleasant and even hilarious--a natural comedian. This is good, because it keeps me from wanting to strangle him on a daily basis.

In days past, Marquette has come up to me to say, apropos of nothing, the following things, all delivered with perfect comic timing:

"Ms. Sweetland, I have something very important to tell you. From here on, I shall no longer answer to the name Marquette. I insist that you refer to me, rather, as Betty." (Exit Marquette, stage left, imaginary boa trailing wildly behind him.)

"Ms. Sweetland, what's that on your desk? Wait, wait. Don't tell me. Is it a box of family recipes handed down from generation to generation?" (Um, no Marquette, that's actually my coffee mug.)

"Ms. Sweetland, Is it true that ants have no knees? Or is that just a rumor?"

Definitely a rumor.

I have such a great job!

2005-09-19T18:06:00.000-04:00

I've started the children on this great project in which I have challenged them to draw a perfect map of the United States, including outlines of each individual state, from memory, by the end of the quarter. I can't even come close to doing this, but I am confident that the kids will be able to. It's an idea I adapted from a Ted Sizemore book--his version was to have high school kids draw a map of the world from memory.

So far the project is going well. I began by giving them each a blank sheet of paper and telling them to just see what they could come up with. The variation among children was fascinating: Ernest's map was all straight lines and angles, remarkably accurate for the Western states, but a bit confused for the curvy states in the East. Several children placed Washington, DC where Washington state actually is. (That's the sort of thing kids come away with when all they're exposed to is badly-done rote learning activities.) Alexus wouldn't even try...my friend/mentor Ms. Brill advises me that this sort of child is a strong whole-to-part learner, unable to do bits of things until the whole can be confidently visualized.

Anyway we labled these first attempts "Attempt #1." After a couple of days spent tracing the US map, we embarked on Attempt #2 and the difference was so striking that all the kids commented on it. I wish I had time to practice with them, so I could do it too!

2005-09-14T20:12:00.000-04:00

From today's tests about the Supreme Court:

2. How do Justices get to be on the Supreme Court?
"The President researches and picks a person to fill that spot. After that they have a Confirmation Herring. After the Herring the Senate votes on the person."

--I like the idea of a Confirmation Herring. Maybe it could be genetically altered to turn red or blue, thereby indicating the political leanings of the nominee.

6. What else do you know?

'I know Sandrade Corror is going to retire."

"I know William H quit and died."

"I know that to get off the court, you have to resign, retire, die, or be a peach."

"I know it should be more than one Black person on there."

2005-09-08T22:31:00.000-04:00

My principal sat me down with the other new teacher for a little meeting. "Ladies, I have a dilemma," she announced, "and I was hoping you two could help me out."

This seemed like a bad sign since I thought the meeting was to go over some pro forma new teacher stuff and she was just trying to be uncharacteristically efficient by talking to both of us at the same time. But no.

Turned out she wants me to switch classrooms with the second grade teacher. I have quite a large room, but only 11 students. My counterpart, who is brand-new to teaching and experiencing the predictable growing pains, has a smaller room and 23 students. The second grade feels crowded. I, on the other hand, was just about to move a large, clearly optional, 'reading couch' into my room before the meeting started. My principal feels the solution is obvious.

And it is, except that it was also obvious BEFORE SCHOOL STARTED and BEFORE I SPENT THREE WEEKS SETTING UP MY ROOM!

I said this to her, minus the capital letters. Honestly.

I really don't want to move. I like my room. I spent a lot of time and effort putting it together. More importantly, I think it sends a very bad message to the parents and children--everything seems so fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants at the school and it upsets people. (Especially me.) And it will be difficult for the children. Routine, comfort, stability and safety are all very important in establishing a good classroom atmosphere. I've gotten a good start on all that and moving would set my class back. And, moving would add to my workload significantly for a week or two...and I'm at my limit already.

But I know how hard it is to go through your first year, and I want to help the new teacher, and I don't want to second-guess every single decision my so-called boss makes. Honestly. So I said that although it was very upsetting to be asked to do something so disruptive when it could have easily been prevented by a little planning, and that I really didn't appreciate being put on the spot by being asked in front of the other teacher, I would think about it, and talk to my kids about it, and we could probably do it. And then I asked when she thought would be a good time.

"Well, we have a half-day tomorrow, and I was thinking we could all just do it then."

TOMORROW?

She pointed out that the longer the second grade felt cramped, the worse the problem would get.

This is when I wanted to start speaking in capital letters. But instead I just pulled out one of my favorite quotes: "A failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part, lady." And yes, I actually said that, but not the 'lady' part.

I don't think she took this very well. And then it occurred to me that maybe it was not one of those things you're supposed to say out loud to people. So I asked if I could have an hour to think about it. She said sure, take my time, but not too much time, because she wanted to let the other teachers know that they'd all be helping me move tomorrow. As if they hadn't already made plans for their work for the afternoon.

She left, and the new teacher left, without saying a word.

And I just burst into tears.

I know it doesn't seem like the sort of thing one should cry over but I felt like I was between a rock and a hard place. If I said no, would my new colleague hold it against me? Would the staff interpret it as me being 'too good' to help out, marking me as even more of an outsider than I already am? And had I really signed on for a year with a boss who made my job harder whenever she got the chance? Too much, too much, too much.

I walked downstairs to talk to Ms. Harris, the kindergarten aide, who is very sweet and wise. She assured me that no one would think less of me if I said no, and that the principal could be infuriating at times, patted me on my head and told me 'please don't cry baby.' Mrs. Thomas, the first grade teacher, said pretty much the same thing, without the head-patting.

All this made me feel like I had the right to say no, which then made me more inclined to say yes. So I went to talk to the second-grade teacher.

"Don't think I asked her for this," she said the moment I walked into the room. "I heard about that idea when you did!"

That totally blew me away. The other teacher was not too psyched about moving rooms, either. "I just set it up!" Word, sister, word.

So we talked about whether she felt the additional space would be helpful...and she said it would, but maybe not so helpful that it was worth the effort and disruption...and we agreed that if we decided to do it, we would do it when we had time to plan.

If I have to move I will be a bit pissed off and slightly bitter but I'm confident I can make the new room work. We'll see what happens. Wish me stability...

2005-09-06T18:36:00.000-04:00

First full day of school today--last week was all half-days. Definitely noticed the difference; kids either got antsy or zoned-out, according to their temperments, in the afternoon.

We've been doing a series of personality tests from this great little book called 'Psychology for Kids.' Today the kids found out if they were auditory, visual, or kinesthetic learners. I've got a predominance of hands-on learners, as it turns out, and only one visual learner.

Today we started learning about the Supreme Court--a little out of order, as the curriculum goes, but seems like a good time to do it with the confirmation hearings and all coming up. The discussion was pretty interesting from an assessment point of view: The knowledge level in my class ranges from one girl who could name Thurgood Marshall and cite some of his important cases to another kid who couldn't make sense of the word 'court,' even when class volunteered Judge Judy as an example, until someone did an acutal Judge Judy impression. Whew!

2005-09-04T22:53:00.002-04:00

Why Money Matters in Education, Volume 1

It is very stylish nowadays, even for liberals, to admit that "money isn't the only solution" to problems in education. That is such an insult to professional teachers working with completely inadequate resources that it makes me want to cuss, and I often do.

Here is a quick demonstration of a very simple way that funding impacts the quality of teaching. If Iadd up the time I've spent on getting adequate supplies into my classroom--tasks that I wouldn't have to do at a school with more funds--it's clear that money has a made a direct impact on my ability to prepare for actual teaching.

45 minutes: Ordering basic supplies (posterboard, chalk, etc) for my classroom. (Well-run/adequately-staffed schools have someone to do this for teachers.)
30 minutes: Cutting out stupid little letters for my mandated bulletin boards. Teachers in some schools just order these pre-made, but at $6 a set, they're not in the budget here. Teachers in even better schools don't have to deal with bulletin boards at all because they have aides to do them.
45 minutes: Repairing damaged books in classroom library. (With more money, I could either order replacements for badly damaged books and ask the librarian to deal with minor repairs. Here, no budget for books, no librarian...so it's up to me and my trusty roll of book tape.)
45 minutes: Researching printer for my classroom and ordering online.
35 minutes: Setting up printer once it arrived.
15 minutes: Quick trip to Staples to procure printer cable; does not include travel time.
2 hours: Round-trip travel time for extra trip to school on a Saturday to be present to greet and thank community volunteers who were painting my classroom and other rooms in the school.
1 hour: Painting dirty, old teacher's desk and bookshelves so they were fit for classroom use.
2 hours: Sorting through hundreds of donated books to find grade-level texts for my room.

I'm sure there were dozens of similar tasks that I can't even think of at this point--but the running total so far is about eight hours. Every minute (or in this case, each hour) I spend on mundane tasks is time taken away from my main purpose: Designing and delivering high-quality learning experiences for children. So, even though school has been in session for less than a week, already my students are saddled with a teacher who has had one day's less time to plan than kids at schools with more funding. It's easy to see how that could add up over time...and translate, in the long run, to large disparities in teacher effectiveness, just through the simple 'time is money' equation.

Not Fair!

2005-09-02T19:34:00.000-04:00

There's a great poem by Eloise Greenfield I shared with my students today:

When I’m by myself
And I close my eyes
I’m a twin
I’m a dimple in a chin
I’m a room full of toys
I’m a squeaky noise
I’m a gospel song
I’m a gong
I’m a leaf turning red
I’m a loaf of brown bread
I’m a whatever I want to be
An anything I care to be
And when I open my eyes
What I care to be
Is me.

Having kids write their own version of this poem is a classic activity lots of elementary teachers use. I am always thrilled with the results by my students. Some of the best couplets my kids came up with today:

I'm a saber-toothed tiger
I'm a sticky-webbed spider
--William, who is far from a saber-toothed tiger, but who hit upon the bright idea of using the dictionary for unusual nouns when he found he was struggling to come up with ideas

I'm a friend holding hands
I'm a one-man band
--Alexus, although I think Taylor really wrote it for her

I'm a silent running deer
I'm a crystal clear tear
--Jada, who I love! I had her older sister Tiffany last time I taught at the school, coincidentally. Wonderful family. And her mom has told all the other parents I'm 'great' so I have a good reputation coming in...nowhere to go but down now!

I'm a sun-hating vampire
I'm an expanding empire
--Anthony, who has quite the vocabulary

I'm a puckery sour pickle
I'm a friendly little tickle
--Taylor, who is The Pretty Popular Girl of the crew

I'm a black chair standing tall
I'm a pouring down waterfall
--Marquette, who is diagnosed with ADD and has been my most 'challenging' student in the class so far, and so I was very pleased to find he's a natural poet! He ended his poem, quite accurately and insightfully: "I'm a dog that can't find his bone/I'm a broken telephone." His classmates commented sensitively that it summed him up well, since he has trouble communicating sometimes, and is often found digging around for his stuff.

Next week we will combine final drafts with a handwriting exercise, and post the finished versions out on our Show Off board.

2005-08-30T18:03:00.000-04:00

Today was the first day of school and it went great! I arrived at the school at 7:15 feeling excited but also slightly underprepared. There were a few things I didn't quite have time to arrange in the way I wanted. I most of it done by 7:45 and then headed down to the playground to meet my new class. The halls and the schoolyard were both empty.

For a second I flashed back on the joke that all the teachers were making yesterday because the halls were still jam packed with computers and bookshelves: "It's a good thing school isn't starting tomorrow." Maybe I had missed something?

Nope. Just a bit of the school's typical chaos. Turns out that on the first day, school doesn't start until 9:30. Nobody told the new girl! So that was kind of annoying...but I had an unexpected hour and a half to get more stuff done, so all's well that ends well.

My traditional opening activity is to have the children make dreamcatchers. I show them my example, then give them the raw materials and let them go from there without any directions. Right away I get to see who dives in, who waits until someone else has figured it out, who asks for help, who offers it. And the kids are engaged in an activity that also permits them to do what they really want to be doing anyway: Talking to their friends and seeing what everyone had been up to all summer.

Rajanique was frustrated and confused by the lack of direction and wasn't afraid to vocalize it, repeatedly. Anthony quietly scoped out the supply table and got up to get what he needed whenever he saw fit. Taylor was eager to please; she kept raising her hand for permission to get materials even though I had told them all to take what they needed freely. Marquette is one of those boys that needs to stand up and walk every so often as he works. Ernest, the new kid, wasn't quite sure what he had gotten himself into but made the best of it. Rakia took my request to "write down one of your dreams" literally and tried to fit the entire plot of a nightmare on a tiny circle of paper. All in all, a typical group of ten year olds.

And their dreams? To be rich. World peace. To be a scientist. To always have friends. To end war. To be on national television. To have the best 11th birthday party ever.

So cute!

2005-08-28T23:56:00.000-04:00

Don't want to be a total negatron so today I will concentrate on some of the good things that have happened with respect to school so far.

One: My classroom has been freshly painted, and it is a lovely shade of pale aqua. It feels clean and calm.

Two: After nine hours in the room today, and with the help of my brother Joseph and his lovely girlfriend Melanie, I have something resembling an organized elementary classroom. It will still be a long day tomorrow, but I'm not panicking anymore.

Three: I poached a nice easy chair from the school's 'library' today. It will be put to good use in my reading corner until someone misses it, which will be a long time since the school doesn't have a librarian. And it even matches my walls. Sort of.

Four: I have put together an almost respectable classroom library, without spending a ton of my own money. Research says that to optimally encourage independent reading, you need at least 20 books per child in the room. Since I have only 11 kids I think I'm hitting that benchmark. Most of the books came from a neglected shelf of hand-me-downs that actually had a ton of good stuff. The secretary said they were donated a couple of years ago but nobody's ever looked at them. I found like 40 Newberry Medal books and a lot of other quality, grade-level stuff. Yaay!

Five: In addition to the books that kids can self-select from, I have classroom sets of several good novels. So although the school has no office-supply type of stuff, they have fairly decent instructional resources. (Since this is a positives-only post, I will refrain from mentioning the state of the science and social studies textbooks at the moment.)

Six: The teacher next door to me is super nice. Her name is Ms. Thomas and she's been teaching 1st grade at the school for 14 years. She's really gone out of her way to make me feel welcome. Among other things, she recognized my frustration with the bulletin board situation and somehow procured paper and borders for me. And she gave me some paint so I could repaint the bookshelves in my room, which were either really dirty or this horrid shade of neon green. Now they're a nice buttery yellow.

Seven: Only one more day til I get to meet my kids!

2005-08-26T21:21:00.000-04:00

A Montessori educator once told me that "children learn to share out of plenty, not out of want." I'm sure there are competing psychological theories out there about this sort of thing and lots of counterexamples of folks with next-to-nothing still finding enough to share. Just the same, it was a maxim that I took to heart.

One way I have tried to put the theory into practice is in my organization of classroom materials. All the supplies students need are in abundance, available for the taking, organized and replenished as needed, but otherwise unmonitored*. I just don't believe in rationing pencils. It seems wiser to me to teach children stewardship through example and by giving them actual opportunities to practice it.

Our faculty meeting today suggested that my stance on supplies is, well, shall we say, slightly different from the other teachers'. I won't even go into the whole conversation about whether or not a kindergartener should be able to make a pack of 16 crayons last a whole year. (Although if you're interested, the consensus seemed to be that it shouldn't be a problem, especially if the crayons were the fat kind, unless the child was 'wasting wax.')

The real eye-opener was the principal's announcement that the *teacher* supply closet was going to be monitored! If I want construction paper or whatever else they supposedly have in there, I have to fill out a request and give it to the lead teacher the day before.

This struck me as so...wrong!...that I really wanted to say something. But I refrained because I had already made the point, a few moments earlier, that the new rule that all copying would go through the Approved Copy Machine User seemed a bit restrictive. The rule was instituted in response to "somebody breaking the machine all the time because they don't know how to use it." I suggested training, and added that it was a copy machine, not a space shuttle, and as college-educated professionals surely we could all learn to use it appropriately. The principal said she "heard" me and she would consider training. Some of the other young teachers gave me looks that said they were glad I spoke up. But the veterans objected. "When somebody breaks the machine we all suffer. If we just have one person to use it, and it breaks, then we know whose fault it is." And this sentiment seemed to carry the day.

I'll set aside a discussion of the possibility that the 'fault' really lies with the fact that schools are routinely forced to make do with substandard copying equipment that is simply not powerful enough to handle the capacity required. And I won't comment on the mentality that we should be worried about who to blame when equipment fails.

Larger issues, ones that will definitely be with me throughout the school year, are betrayed by the restriction of teachers' access to the basic tools needed for their job. One is that faculty members are not thought of, or thinking of themselves as, professionals. Also, clearly the principal does not trust her staff. I'm not sure yet whether the staff is trustworthy or not, but I will appeal to another favorite maxim of mine: People who are treated as though they cannot be trusted become untrustworthy. I know I'm already becoming a shady character who plans to sneak onto the copy machine after hours, and I'm contemplating breaking and entering the supply closet...

*All the supplies except for the thumb tacks. My deeply held belief in the goodness of children has some practical limits.

2005-08-24T21:28:00.000-04:00

"There goes the neighborhood!"

--Shouted at/about me as I walked from my school to the metro this afternoon

2005-08-24T15:14:00.000-04:00

My principal scrounged up a pair of adult scissors for me, and threw in a new stapler and a roll of tape. It's on!

2005-08-22T15:19:00.000-04:00

Is it a sin to throw away a set of 1972 Funk n Wagnalls?

If so, bless me, for I have sinned.

I am cleaning out a jam-packed teacher's closet in the hopes of creating an organized environment for teaching and learning. I began hoping to find lots of useful stuff. So far, that hope seems to have been in vain. The closet was once the province of a teacher who retired after 30 years. Apparently her curriculum consisted entirely of holiday-themed activities involving ancient Hallmark decorations.

But at least my room has a closet, and there are things in it. The same cannot be said for the rest of the school. Between yesterday and today, I have requested the following items from the secretary:

1. A pair of 'adult' scissors.
2. A stapler. And staples.
3. A sponge and bucket.
4. A single pack of post-its.
5. Construction paper or bulletin board paper.

The secretary is very nice, but has been unable to give me any of these things. Either the school does not have them at all, is waiting for them to arrive, or the secretary cannot find them because volunteers are painting her office and she boxed up all her stuff.

However, this does not stop the other teachers from reminding me that I should really get to work on my bulletin boards. My co-workers are obsessed with bulletin boards. I am not sure how this sort of thing happens.

I'm also not sure why there are NO SUPPLIES OF ANY SORT in the building. My principal is certainly dedicated, and apparently spends a good deal of time asking for donations from pretty much everywhere she can think of. The problem is: the places she thinks of just aren't all that great. And so, practically everything in the school is a well-worn hand-me-down. Consumable items (e.g. sponges, paper, and post-its) are hard to come by that way. And the non-consumables...well, they are just things that nobody wants any more. Therefore, I have a closet full of educational software on old floppy disks...and when I say old, I mean the big card-board covered kind. The kind I used when *I* was in elementary school.

I threw those away along with the encylopedias.

2005-08-15T15:48:00.000-04:00

I got my class list.

Only 11 kids! This will be a wonderful year. I have always said that there is no teacher so bad that they can mess up a truly small class. That may be one of those things I always say that has no basis in fact. But now I get to see what happens when a good teacher gets an imminently manageable class size!

Already I am doing things I wouldn't do with a group of 20 or 25. For instance, I hand-wrote each child a personal note introducing myself and mailed them. It took me about 90 minutes and cost $10 ($5.99 for a box of 12 note cards, and $4.07 in postage). If I had a regular sized class, I wouldn't have made the effort. Investing 3 hours and $20 would have seemed like too much time and money for such a small gesture. But I'm really glad I was able to make the gesture. I feel better knowing that each of my students will arrive on the first day of school already knowing their teacher's name and hopefully thinking that she's probably nice. And they will also know that the fifth grade has been moved down to the second floor.

Besides the small size, another interesting dynamic of the group is that there are 4 boys and 7 girls. Not sure how that will play out...

But I do know that those 11 kids are in for quite a year!