Teach, Teach!

This is a test of the Performancing extension for the Firefox browser. If this works, it’s an absolute genius addition to this browser.

It works! Genius!

So, an update on my working life: I have accepted a job. Yeah, I’m employed! I was contacted by the Director of High School Curriculum and offered a position as a Teacher on Special Assignment for Remedial High School Instruction. To be truthful, I don’t know how to do much of anything that the position requires; however, the curriculum director, who was once my administrator many moons ago, feels confident that I can do it all and that I am discounting my on the job experience from this past year (which may be true).

The scary part is that I do not know who my boss will be. The current curriculum director has taken a position as principal at a middle school. Yesterday was her last day. There is a school board meeting this morning at 10:00 AM and it will be interesting to see what the results of their “reorganization” efforts will be. Fortunately for me, I have a job for next year, regardless of what they decide.

Just as I think I’ve made a decision, and a difficult one at that, our school board decides to confuse the issue by “partially funding” my previous position for next year. What does that mean? Your guess is as good as mine. There are currently 111 people with my job as instructional lead teacher in our district. That costs the district $7 million per year. They have funded the position at $5.5 million for next year, so clearly, some positions will have to be cut. So how will that look? No idea, but my guess is that some positions will be reduced to half day ILT, half day teaching positions, which would help the district in a number of ways–they would not only save money on the ILT program, but they would regain some strong teachers in the classroom.

My gut tells me I should probably stick with the Graduation Specialist position. Something tells me I’m supposed to do this new job, even as I fear that I won’t be very good at it. But it will get me helping kids again, and that’s something I haven’t done much of this year.

One thing I’ve realized, though, is that I’ve had more significant moments of success this year than I have had in many years in the classroom. Here are a few that I want to record for moments when I’m feeling discouraged:

* I helped a student get his diploma. He could not pass the science section of the Graduation Test, and I helped him by following up, making sure all his documentation was in order, and arguing his case at the county hearing. Both he and his parents made the effort to thank me in person. It may be the most important thing I’ve ever done as an educator.
* I helped support a struggling new math teacher who was ready to quit just a few weeks ago. This week, she came by to tell me that out of 54 Algebra students, 50 had passed the state end of course test. This is an astounding achievement for any math teacher, let alone a first year teacher. I’m so incredibly proud of her.
* I am working with a student who was placed incorrectly into an honors geometry class. The student knew she was misplaced, as did the teacher, the dept. chair, and the guidance counselor. Yet no one did anything to help her as she quietly failed the class. Two weeks ago, I started my campaign, talking to the counselors, the administrators, the dept. chair, the teacher, lobbying for them to allow her to get credit for the on-level course. I spoke with the student this week, and yesterday she ran up to me and hugged me because she had passed the end of course test. Now all she has to do is pass the final for the on level course, and she can receive credit. It’s sad that with all the adults who knew about this injustice, none of them had taken one step to correct it for this child.

I seem to be treading water, still not swimming but at least I’m holding my own in the pool for now. It’s tough. I’ve pretty much decided to take the Graduation Specialist position, but I’m not going to feel good about it until a) they post the position, b) I see my name next to it in writing. Until then, I feel insecure and scared as hell.

Today was my first full day back at work since I heard that my job was being eliminated. It was gratifying to feel valued by so many of the teachers. They were supportive and outraged–a lovely combination right now. One of those teachers really helped me to feel better about the new position I might be assuming–she pointed out several obvious things about how I could do the job, some of which were specific to me and my skills, and it made me feel a lot better. It also made the job seem possible, like something I could actually do.

Now I’m just mentally and physically exhausted. How do people do this, I wonder? How do people look for jobs, choose to quit without a job lined up, on a regular basis? Because I know some people do–they’re fearless and self-assured. Or maybe they just like change. Oh, if only that could be me.

It’s the word I would use to describe my life right now. At the moment, everything feels like too much, more than I, or others, should be expected to bear. I’m not even sure where to start.

On Friday morning, at roughly 6:30 AM, I checked my email only to discover that my job is being eliminated due to budget cuts. There were no warnings. We had not been told to expect it or plan for it. Just boom! My job, which I had only recently grown to like, is gone.

I went to work and my principal immediately offered me a teaching position in our school. I don’t want it. It just hurts to think about all the things I put into place this year disappearing. And I don’t think I could bear to watch it happen over the course of next year.

The dept. chair at my old school emailed me to offer me a position as the newspaper sponsor/English teacher. I met with him that afternoon to discuss it. It’s an option, but I can’t get past the feeling that it would mean I’m going backwards. Add to that the fact that I didn’t feel valued there anyway at the end, and it makes it even harder to deal with.

So I have an interview lined up for Mon. morning at the new high school, one that is just opening next year. I’m trying to think positively, trying to talk myself into getting excited about opening a new school, having new challenges, and meeting new people. But the truth is, I just want to keep the job I have now. And that’s not an option.

Add to this issue the following additional stresses:

* My mom started chemo again on Fri. (yes, the same day I lost my job)
* My grandfather died on Fri. (yes, the same day I lost my job)

Do I sound self-pitying? Probably. Do I feel that I have a right? Damn straight.

This week I started to have fun with this job again and I was able to do a few of the things that influenced me to take it in the first place.

First, on Wednesday, I taught teachers how to use blogs ALL DAY. No lunch, and I even offered a session after school for those who couldn’t make it to the sessions during the school day. It was fun to be doing something hands-on, not just presenting info, but actually teaching. And so many teachers got excited, said they were seeing the applications and implications in new ways. That’s why I took this job–to help teachers learn and be excited about new strategies and technologies in the classroom. It was a good day.

Then yesterday, I found myself in meetings, but good ones that had relevance to what our true mission should be, meetings that focused on figuring out how to really help the kids who need it the most. And I was fortunate enough to have a good idea or two, to contribute something useful to the discussion. So it was another good day.

And today I was just busy…busy putting into action so many things that have been discussed in the last few days. That’s another thing I’ve learned about myself (something I’ve suspected all along): I function best and am most fulfilled when I have almost too much to do. (Notice I said “almost”–I often had WAY TOO MUCH to do as a classroom teacher, and that’s just stressful and frustrating). Having almost too much means I work late, I feel rushed and just a little overwhelmed, but I’m pretty sure (though never 100%) that I can get it all done, even if it’s just in the nick of time. In some (sick?) way, I kind of like that feeling.

Yes, I’ve been missing in action for the last few months. I’ve been struggling with the changes/challenges in my life and I have discovered that when things are really tough, I avoid blogging. I guess writing forces introspection and sometimes, I’m doing all I can to just cope with what’s being thrown my way. Sometimes actually thinking it through and analyzing it is beyond me when I’m on the front line.

I’m experiencing withdrawal symptoms. I miss my classroom. I miss the kids. I miss feeling as though I am a part of the life of the school. Perhaps most of all, I miss the feeling of knowing not only what needs to be done, but how to do it.

I also miss being in sync with the rest of the school. In my new job, my busy times are completely opposite of, well, everyone else’s. For example, right now, teachers are completely overwhelmed. We have final exams today and tomorrow, and their grades are due by…tomorrow. I remember the anxiety, the exhaustion, and the relief once it was all put to rest.

In contrast, I have had almost nothing to do for the last week or so. Understandably, professional development is on hold at this time of the semester. Also understandably, anxious parents back off for the holidays (usually), and wait for the new semester to begin before deciding that their child should be tested for (fill in the blank) or that their child’s ________ teacher is incompetent and should be taken to court. However, on our first day back in Jan., I may become a human piñata as my admin team continues to fill up the day teachers mistakenly refer to as a “work day.” So during the holiday I’ll be preparing for an all day fun-fest with teachers who only want to be released to their classrooms to prepare for the semester that begins the next day.

Another issue I’ve been struggling with is that, while I truly identify with teachers and their time pressures, I now see all too clearly the other side of things. Teachers do not have enough time to do what they need to do. This includes grading, planning, collaborating with peers, discipline, communicating with parents, and of course, professional development. But here’s the catch-22 as I see it: Because they are stretched so thin, and because their time is so precious, teachers want professional learning to be delivered as quickly as possible. They come away from what I’ve termed “drive-by professional learning” with only the most superficial understanding of the initiative. Understandably, their implementation is then weak, at best, and generally mere lip-service to pacify the admin and the district. So then teachers believe that the initiative itself is worthless, because their own implementation was weak, and it was weak in part because we gave them what they wanted–minimal training.

So what needs to change:

• We need to choose a horse and stick with it. Our district needs to stop its tendency toward the flavor of the month program and make a commitment to something long term.
• We need to spend more time on the front end fully training teachers so that they not only understand what they need to do, but why–what the rationale is for whatever is being put before them.
• We need to connect the dots for teachers. We need to unify our vocabulary so that teachers don’t feel that each strategy, program, etc., is one more thing. Most of the programs I’ve been trained on this year have been very closely connected, touting similar ideas in different terminology. We need to agree as a district on the vocabulary we will use so that teachers can more easily see that all these elements really complement one another and are all part of one puzzle, and not fifty different puzzles.

If only I ran the schools…yeah, right.

My last post posed the question, “What is success when it comes to professional development?” Today, I experienced true success in a way I never anticipated.

Our school improvement plan focuses on the use of writing to increase and improve students’ acquisition of content knowledge. Many teachers feel that writing is a waste of their students’ time, that having students write in their classes cannot possibly help, and might even hinder, their mastery of the content. One such teacher was, in a friendly way, voicing that opinion to me today. I listened, knowing she meant no harm, but inside two arguments were raging.

On the one hand, I wanted to blast at how truly limited her view of writing was. The other part of me insisted that I had to let it go, that there was no point in trying to win this battle and I would only alienate a colleague who had been friendly and supportive so far.

Some other, previously unknown entity within me found a third option.

Somehow, I managed to calmly express my views (which are supported by much research) that writing can indeed increase student learning, that writing is itself an act that creates learning and that forces students to think and figure out exactly what they have, and equally important, what they haven’t learned. I mentioned the many forms that writing can take in the classroom, that it needn’t, indeed shouldn’t, always be a formal expository essay. I gave examples of other types of writing that might be helpful in a non-Language Arts classroom. And then I stopped, saying, “But of course, you might disagree.”

My colleague’s expression was difficult to read, her mouth fallen open just a bit, her eyes wide.

“I’ve never had it explained to me in that way.” Pause. “What you just said makes so much sense…I’ve never really thought of using writing the way you just described. Wow.”

And then my mouth fell open. Touchdown.

Last week I “hosted” my first Early Release Day. In our district, we have 5 days a year when students are released 2 hours early so that schools may provide their staff with locally focused staff development. I am in charge of these sessions at my school (in theory, anyway). So here’s what I did:

• spruced up our meeting space with tableclothes in school colors
• loaded up each table with candy, cookies and chips
• provided sodas
• had hard copies of the presentation as well as all other necessary items to document their implementation of our SIP
• chopped the session in half–teachers had thirty minutes between dismissal time and the session start, and then the session lasted only 1 hour

According to all reports, teachers were pleased with the session. Many were kind enough to say so to my principal, and a few to me, personally. But here’s my question:

How do we define success in professional development? Is teacher satisfaction the measure? Having been a teacher for 18 years, I am pretty clear on what teachers want: speed, clarity and relevance (and yummy treats never hurt). However, isn’t the real measure based on what happens when these teachers return to the classroom? If they enjoy the session but choose not to implement the strategies, have I really succeeded?

Probably the most difficult aspect of my new job is that I am a department unto myself. There is only 1 person with my role in my entire school. Fortunately, one of my administrators was the last to hold my position and she has been a source of great support. But I have to say, she gave me some not so great advice this week.

Being in charge of professional learning is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it’s what interests me most about my job and the aspect that influenced me to make the switch. On the other hand, it’s the most difficult part, primarily because much of the faculty does not want to be “professionally developed.” And these people also happen to be the most vocal of the group, which basically means my sessions are often dominated by the “kids” who come in every day saying, “I hate this class. It’s so stupid.”

I had one such meeting this week and it was brutal. It began with a peppering of questions from one teacher that felt like machine gun fire, followed by another who unfavorably compared me to my predecessor and topped off by a third who characterized the implementation of our school improvement plan as “meaningless and trivial.” (By the way, does anyone else find it concerning that a teacher would think that developing and posting learning goals in the form of essential questions is meaningless and trivial?) Through it all, the chair of the department sat silently nodding her head in agreement with all that was being said.

So my predecessor, the new admin, recommended that I talk to my principal about the meeting. She felt that the teachers were very unprofessional and that he should know about it. In spite of “Danger, Will Robinson” pounding through my head, I followed her advice.

B. I. G. M. I. S. T. A. K. E.

What’s worse than being attacked by a group of teachers all at once? Having those same teachers come to your office one by one to defend (and reiterate) their previous attack under the guise of an apology.

So I’m keeping my big mouth shut in the future. And donning a bullet-proof vest for all training sessions.

ILTs (that’s the acronym for my job as Instructional Lead Teacher) have a code–they invoke the “pinky-swear” when they want to share something that we really shouldn’t share. So I’m invoking the code now, with you good people–pinky swear or you’ll get no good stuff here. Agreed?

Alrighty, then. So part of my job is to observe other teachers. My principal has made it clear that I’m expected to conduct teacher observations–lots of them. Honestly, it’s a bit uncomfortable for me still. I know the teachers feel as if they’re put on the spot. I know just having me in there makes all but the most confident tense. And I know they don’t really believe me when I say that I am there to observe and assist, never to evaluate (and that is REALLY true). What’s sad, though, is when I see a teacher choosing not to do a good job. Recently, when discussing an observation with such a teacher, I asked why she had chosen not to correct or redirect any of the off task behaviors that were taking place. Her response? She didn’t want to make a big deal of it with me in the room.

Okay, now if I had simply observed a kid chatting to his neighbor, I’d believe that. But I watched and listened as numerous students banged out beats on their desks and performed snake-like dance moves with arms outstretched, all while this teacher continued to lecture to the class. As Jerry Lee Lewis might say, “C’mon, baby.”

So I’m curious–to the teachers out there, how do you feel about being observed? And what impact, if any, does being observed have on your classroom management?