Merit Hiring
I was reading Science Goddess’ “More Isn’t Always Better” post this morning and her thoughts took me down the road of introspection regarding my lack of employment this year. Her assertion that merit pay for teachers wouldn’t guarantee better teaching made my head nod vigorously in agreement, and made me wonder exactly what equation used for hiring here in “Mexico-North” is applied to new teacher applicants such as myself.
My info? College graduate, twelve years teaching experience, licensed/certified to teach in Alaska, New Mexico, Kansas, and even here, Texas. I have glowing letters of recommendation, an excellent résumé, and wonderfully gracious references. Resources? My own extensive childrens’ library, professional library, math/science/literacy/art/music manipulatives, classroom decor, puppets, puzzles, blocks, audio/visual teaching aids, computers (yes, I provide my own computers for my students) and even sleeping mats. Like most teachers, money for play dough, paint, glitter, glue, dress up clothes, and every small yet necessary detail for kindergarten explorations (sunflower seeds, cotton balls, snacks) comes out of my own pocket. I’m also not burnt out on teaching and I actually *like* children, both very valuable commodities.
After submitting résumé after résumé to school districts and having several interviews for kindergarten and other primary grade classes, I’ve not been offered a job. My observations as the parent of a student have had me cringing, shaking my head, venting, and vowing to move away from here as soon as Uncle Sam lets us. At this point I’m a fan of “merit hiring,” hiring someone who is the most qualified, who offers the most resources, and who has the most desirable background as vouched for by other education experts. I was, in fact, under the impression that hiring highly qualified teachers was a requirement mandated to school districts nationwide in our latest educational reform. But like everything else, “highly qualified” is interpreted very differently here.
Budget constraints rule the day, and the logic used in the Bordertown when trying to address the needs and requirements of NCLB (not that I agree with them) just doesn’t fit. The community is at least eighty-percent Hispanic, which makes not hiring me because I don’t speak Spanish an understandable decision. The need to communicate effectively with all students, build those bridges, and give the gift of multiple languages to students are all goals I respect and believe in. In not speaking Spanish, I am not the most highly qualified. Hiring a Spanish-speaking aide with whom I could team-teach isn’t an option here like it is in New Mexico however, perhaps because you really can’t get two for the price of one.
During one of my interviews, a principal asked if I had any questions for her, to which I replied “yes, how does your school utilize technology, and what resources are available to kindergarten students?” The response of the other teachers in the room was polite laughter, while the principal explained that none of the kindergarten classrooms in her school had computers yet, though they were waiting for some old ones to be donated by a military Academy class here on post (which my husband attends) this year. I then asked her if sharing learning centers amongst kindergarten classrooms would be possible since I had computers for student use that I’d be happy to share. “Oh no, that would be unfair, one teacher having computers and the others not. We don’t even have computer standards for our pre-k or kindergarten classes yet, just guidelines.” Totally missed my point and offer, but apparently the bottom line was that NO students would have computer time if all classrooms weren’t equipped. It’s all or nothing.
Several weeks after my last interview, I ran into one of the teachers who had been part of the interview committee at a fast-food restaurant. She remembered me and we did some chatting while waiting in line to order. She said she was sorry I hadn’t been hired though I was qualified and I had “done so well” during my interview, and said her principal had hired another applicant because she “wouldn’t cost as much.” She also divulged that the person hired was certified through an alternate licensure program that required she only complete a year-and-a-half’s worth of education courses and practicum experiences before being employable by any district here. Budget again. I’m wondering how much classroom money, if any, she was given to set up all of the learning centers necessary to provide appropriate educational experiences for her students. With her limited knowledge and experience with public education, would she even know to ask for funding? Perhaps “clueless” is desirable.
Hiring Spanish-speaking applicants with the least amount of experience (and possibly skill) and least amount of classroom resources doesn’t seem to be the best plan of attack when it comes to addressing this town’s interpretation of NCLB’s biggest rules:
1) All students must pass.
and
2) All students must pass in English.
Students are hit with monthly barrages of TAKS “practice” tests which take away from learning anything OTHER than how to take the TAKS. They are allowed to take the test in their “native language” until high school, when TAKS must be passed in English by all students, regardless of ethnicity or language experience.
Huh?
Okay, so maybe it’s *just me.* Either I’m grossly underqualified because I just don’t see (nor understand) the big picture, or I’m grossly OVERqualified because I’ve noticed that there isn’t one.
Still, it would be nice to have a paycheck.
I’m Dreaming of a Brown Christmas…
…because here in the Bordertown, we get wind, wind, and more wind, which stirs up the desert earth, blowing grit and tumbleweeds (no, the weeds weren’t rolling along the ground, they were flying through the air!):
These collected in one corner of our backyard but were certainly not the biggest we found when the wind stopped:
These young ladies (former ASU students) figured out a creative holiday solution:
And apparently a can (or several) of spray-flocking can whiten and brighten:
Look at what the City of Chandler, Arizona creates with tumbleweeds!
Using My Teacher Voice
I have a teacher voice. A mommy voice too. Being a kindergarten teacher and mother means that my “voice” doesn’t match the voice of a drill sergeant, doesn’t match the voice of a ticked off assistant principal in a high school, and certainly doesn’t match the voice of an assertive police officer in a touchy situation. I have to *explain* as I make a request, because the young ones I tend to deal with don’t have as much background knowledge or frames of reference that will clue them in quickly to what I need modified or addressed. Emergency situations are an entirely different matter, as no one misses or ignores any tone I use with alarm, and no one needs an explanation before trying to determine if they feel any motivation to respond as quickly as possible when they hear me use it.
We attended my daughter’s Christmas band concert this evening. It might have been an enjoyable event if only the audience’s behavior wasn’t such a long, drawn out train wreck. My blood pressure rose as my anticipation of my daughter’s performance plummeted. Teens and their siblings ran through the audience in the gym, running up to orchestra and band members snapping pictures on cell phones as the performers were warming up and tuning their instruments. Parents loudly chatted, played with cell phone ringers (no, they weren’t turning them off), and ignored their offsprings’ shouts, inappropriate comments and choice of vocabulary. I withstood four hits to the back of my head from teens running up and down the bleachers, not a single apology uttered once. Full-fledged conversations were being had in regular speaking voices throughout the first two musical pieces performed, and those of us who turned around to look at the chatters got rolled eyes, laughter and pointing as a response. Finally, I put my hand on a student’s foot (he had been kicking my side tapping his foot offbeat to the music) and whispered “Sweetheart, it’s not your turn to talk or make noise, it’s your turn to listen.” I followed it with a smile, and received a quick blush and nod in return.
My teacher voice worked on one student out of nine. You see, once young Master Foot was seen correcting his behavior, his cronies had to get louder and more obnoxious, perhaps in some attempt to avenge his honor. And every parent around me *let it go.* I watched a handful of other parents try to move inconspicuously away from other obnoxious teens and children, to no avail. There was no escape, no quiet area where we could listen for our child’s solo, listen to inspiring music, or enjoy the progress the band had made since the beginning of the year. I just about left the concert in tears, only because my other reaction would have been to have taken children by the collars to their parents and demanded an answer to “what the he** are you thinking?!?!?!?!?!”
I spent the first ten years of my life in this very Bordertown, living on the “poor” side of the mountain, maybe a mile from where we’re posted now, so I know it wasn’t always like this. I remember when the haves and the have nots equally spent time raising children to be welcome. Immigrant or local, English-only, Spanish-only, or bilingual speakers, all parents, grandparents, and neighbors encouraged (required!) children to say “please, thank you,” and “apologies.” “Excuse me,” “no thank you,” yes Ma’am, yes Sir,” were also regularly heard and rewarded with “what good manners you have!” Young children were left with babysitters, children old enough to attend performances were expected to sit still, save questions for later, and make necessary comments quietly. They understood the audience wasn’t there to see them, they were there to see the performers. Every school-aged child in the district attended two theater performances a year as a district requirement, and yes, we knew the expectations our teachers and families had of us. No longer, apparently.
As a side note, I’ll offer that it’s difficult to keep an audience on track and engaged when both the band and orchestra directors apparently have no clue when it comes to the choreography required when beginning, intermediate, and advanced musicians all perform on the same night, in this case, on the same gym floor. I’m fairly certain my old orchestra teacher, Mr. H., has passed on, and is probably rolling in his grave. If Mr. A. is still alive and kicking, he’s certainly been admitted to the Looney Bin by now if he’s witnessed performances like this, by both students and directors alike.
So, using my teacher voice, here are some suggestions (not that the local teens, teachers, parents, or musical directors care):
1) Please learn that there are times when it’s your turn to talk, and times when it’s your turn to listen. You don’t always get to choose which times happen when. Consideration isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of respect, respect you’ll receive in return.
2) Even if no one has formally taught you how to behave at concerts, plays, debates, worship services, or meetings, it’s okay to read the cues provided by the seemingly more reflective, calm, and observant audience members, and follow their lead. No, Joey belching out the alphabet during a band performance of the Hallelujah Chorus is not the best choice of role model. Sorry.
3) There is a difference between a musical or theatrical performance and a pep rally. Therefore there is a difference between the behaviors demonstrated at those events. Figure out the difference, and behave accordingly.
4) Just because your sister told you that Mary Jane was going to dye her hair blue before a concert doesn’t mean that once you get to said concert you need to shout out at EVERY inopportune time “HEY MARY JANE, LOVE THE DOPE HAIR! WOOT WOOT!” Either quietly admire the hair, or laugh about it under your breath, but either way, talk to Mary Jane AFTER the concert please. She’ll wait. Really.
5) School band concerts are actually not precursors to American Idol audience tapings, Jerry Springer reruns, or reality show soap operas. If you’re in the audience, I’m sorry, but it’s not about *you*. It’s about the people who have practiced, learned, developed and are sitting on stage now sharing with others. You don’t get the stage, therefore you don’t get the attention. It’s not your turn all of the time, no matter what You Tube, MySpace, and your lazy or absent parents have led you to believe.
6) Band and orchestra directors, when you’re rotating different groups of performers in and out of the performance or “stage” areas, *stop rearranging the furniture* and taking twelve minutes (yes, TWELVE) to rotate thirteen students out and twenty-three students in. It’s very easy. Set up ALL of the chairs and music stands you’re going to need. Then either choose to seat ALL band members, regardless of skill level together on stage, with students only performing when it’s their turn (yes, those not performing are capable of sitting quietly with their instruments across their laps), OR center the beginning group in the middle of the seats, leaving the extras empty, and then have them all walk off, row by row, to the left after their performance while the next group of students is walking on-stage, row by row, from the right. If the next group is bigger, they’ll take up more seats, but can still seat themselves center stage. Takes a *little* practice, but the end result is faster, safer, more efficient, and more professional than the thudding, crashing, and bashing of chairs, stands, and instruments (!), and the barking of directions to students too nervous to be listening and understanding clearly.
TWELVE MINUTES? No *wonder* you couldn’t get the audience back for the closing pieces! DOPE HAIR, MARY JANE!!!!!
Oh wait, that wasn’t my teacher voice, was it?
Mother Nature’s Holiday Encouragement
Twenty-four hours have certainly made a difference! Perhaps this is Mother Nature’s way of getting us in the mood for December.
Before: 
After: 
Alaskans have to “remember” how to drive with each first snow of winter, sliding through a few red lights or stop signs before getting their winter rhythm down, but here in the Bordertown, I’m guessing we’ll be limiting our driving to post *only* today, since most drivers here don’t understand the equation:
snow+rain+ice+4 lane highways+ 60 mph speed limits= TROUBLE.
Reading sounds like a good idea today. Here are some of the stories we’ll be enjoying with the toddler this month:
…and oh, dear Santa, if you could find this book to add to my collection, you’d make my Christmas!
Forecast
I’m so happy!!!!!
“SOUTHERN NEW MEXICO AND FAR WEST TEXAS WILL ENJOY NEAR RECORD
TEMPERATURES TODAY AND PLENTY OF SUNSHINE BOTH TODAY AND
WEDNESDAY. BUT LATE WEDNESDAY EVENING A STRONG COLD FRONT WILL
MOVE ACROSS THE REGION. HIGH TEMPERATURES ON THURSDAY WILL BE 15
TO 20 DEGREES COOLER THAN WEDNESDAY’S HIGHS. ALSO ON THURSDAY A
WEAK UPPER LEVEL STORM SYSTEM WILL BRING THE THREAT OF LOWLAND
RAIN SHOWERS NORTH OF LAS CRUCES AND SNOW SHOWERS IN AREA
MOUNTAINS. ON FRIDAY WE WILL CONTINUE WITH TEMPERATURES WELL
BELOW NORMAL. AGAIN THERE WILL BE A SLIGHT CHANCE FOR A RAIN OR
RAIN SNOW MIX IN THE LOWLANDS…WHILE AREA MOUNTAINS COULD SEE
SOME LIGHT SNOW. ON SATURDAY A SECOND STORM SYSTEM WILL TEAM UP
WITH A SECOND COLD FRONT TO BRING A MIX OF WINTRY WEATHER TO THE
BORDERLAND. THE EXACT FORECAST TRACK OF THE STORM SYSTEM IS STILL
A BIT IN DOUBT…AND THIS COULD LEAD TO SIGNIFICANT CHANGES TO
PRECIPITATION AMOUNTS AND TYPES. BUT RIGHT NOW IT LOOKS LIKE MUCH
OF THE LOWLANDS WILL SEE RAIN OR A RAIN SNOW MIX EARLY ON
SATURDAY WHILE AREA MOUNTAINS COULD SEE SIGNIFICANT AMOUNTS OF
SNOW…ESPECIALLY THE SACRAMENTO MOUNTAINS. BY SATURDAY AFTERNOON
MOST PRECIPITATION ACROSS THE LOWLANDS WILL CHANGE OVER TO SNOW
AS THE SECOND COLD FRONT PUSHES THROUGH. SNOWFALL TOTALS COULD
RANGE FROM A TRACE TO A COUPLE OF INCHES IN THE LOWLANDS WHILE
THE SOUTHERN SACRAMENTO MOUNTAINS COULD RECEIVE SIX INCHES TO A
FOOT OF SNOW.”
"Them versus Us"
Perhaps it’s a totally new concept: administrators, teachers, parents, and students all working together, as a team, in our educational system. No “them-versus-us” mentality that does nothing but create opposition, miscommunication, hurt feelings, and even underhandedness, but actual teambuilding with truly *shared* goals.
I had an interview yesterday at a local elementary school. It was a school that I had taken my resume to earlier this summer. I didn’t hear back from the principal until a week and a half ago, when a one-line email message popped up in my in-box: “If you’re still wanting a position, call my cell this morning” with the principal’s phone number as the signature. I called the cell phone, reached the principal’s voice mail, and left an affirmative “yes I’m available to interview” message with my phone numbers. I received a response yesterday morning in the wee hours in the form of another one-line email message: “Can you come in for an interview at 3:30 today?” I emailed back that yes, I was looking forward to meeting the principal at three thirty, and I then inquired for which grade or position I was to be interviewing. No response. I downloaded the Texas Education Knowledge and Standards (TEKS) parent handout for grades K-5, thought about how I’d respond to the questions I anticipated being asked, and enjoyed the rest of my morning with my toddler.
I arrived at the school fifteen minutes before my interview, and was pleased to find the neighborhood parents friendly, and the staff helpful. The students were full of energy as they left for the day, and smiles abounded. All GREAT signs! I signed in at the office, and was soon joined in the waiting area by another teacher applicant also there to interview. She had no idea which grade or position was needing to be filled either, but we quickly found some mental direction when the secretary made an announcement over the intercom asking that all third grade teachers report to the principal. I quickly reviewed the TEKS handout for third grade, made sure my information packet and resume were ready to go and crinkle/crease-free, and talked with kindergarten students who were waiting to be picked up at the office. (The students were wearing AWESOME “10th Day of School” crowns, I HAD to admire them!)
The other applicant was taken to be interviewed first by the principal, who had quickly introduced himself to us as the third grade teachers congregated. After twenty minutes, I saw the first applicant quickly leaving the building looking a bit down and unsure of herself. I wondered if she had been overwhelmed by the number of people interviewing her, or was experiencing the “I-should-have-said-this” aftershock that tends to hit people after presenting themselves for consideration to a bunch of strangers. The principal came and escorted me to the interview room, and I was pleased to see four cheerful teachers waiting.
I introduced myself, and the principal asked me to tell the teachers a bit about myself before getting started with the interview questions. No doubt you’ve noticed, dear readers, that I’m a bit of a rambler, so once I realized I’d gotten off on a tangent, I quickly added humor to the mix, and apologized for getting off-subject. The principal expressed that he was in a hurry and that we’d need to get the questions underway, and asked the teachers to begin the interview. I was prepared to answer questions about my teaching experience, my educational background, teaching philosophy, teaching style, views on curriculum and instruction, and demonstrate familiarity with Texas and District specific issues such as the Texas State Standards, the district’s testing policies regarding NCLB, and how I’d work with bi-lingual students and staff. I also figured I’d be asked about my discipline policy and questioned as to how many extra duties I’d be willing to take on.
I was asked to describe my teaching style, to detail how I’d ensure all of my students experienced success, who I thought was responsible for discipline in the school, how I communicate with parents, and how I’d treat my grade-level colleagues. Nothing else, so I worked to infuse my responses with pepperings of the other information I felt was pertinent (that wasn’t being asked for), and was comfortable adding humorous examples and positive messages about working with collegial groups and teambuilding. The response from the teachers was shared laughter, nods of what I hoped was approval, and an overall relaxing of tone as the interview progressed. The response from the principal however, was nothing short of…. bristling, to include the folding of his hands, and the crossing of his arms in front of his chest.
To round out my answer to how I’d treat my colleagues, I responded that I would treat my colleagues the way I treat my students, as “whole people.” I may need the E.L.L. teacher’s help with some of my students, but I’ll remember that when working together in my room, or on committees, or after-school projects, we ALL have families to get home to, so it’s important to work effectively so that we’re not living, eating, breathing and sleeping at school all the time. And hey, even if I don’t get to work with everyone on the staff as much as I’d like to, I’m happy to bring cookies to the staff room once a quarter for staff support!
Lots of additional smiles, laughter, nods and “thank goodness’” from the teachers, immediatly followed by the principal indicating the interview was over saying “Well, I just feel I need to close this interview by mentioning the following. This is a DIFFERENT school. Teachers HERE give 150% and that’s what makes us effective. You might want to consider that if you are hired to teach here.”
Wouldn’t you know it, I had a response.
“Thank you Principal ______________, I see exactly where you’re coming from. Since I’ve taught for twelve years, been hired by three school districts, and have received glowing letters of recommendation from each one, it’s obvious that I take my job very seriously and I’m good at it. But my own childrens’ band concerts, volleyball games, and science fair projects are just as important as my students, so I won’t be staying here until nine p.m. each evening. Teachers who sacrifice their marriages and their families to martyr themselves for their students are, in my opinion, living grossly unbalanced lives.”
He thanked me for my time, stood up, and walked me to the door, at which point I gave him my resume and information packet. I’m sure they were tossed in the trashcan as soon as I walked out the door.
Something tells me I won’t be teaching third grade at that school this year, which is a shame because I rather enjoyed the dynamic I experienced in my short time with the other teachers and I liked the feel of the school environment. But I had done a little homework before the interview, and found out that this was the principal’s first year at this particular school, and that the school’s science scores fell below the state’s average, and that the school, while “academically acceptable” hadn’t received public kudos or accolades for a whopping year. None of these details bothered me until experiencing the principal’s reaction to my responses during the interview.
First-year principals, like first-year ANYTHINGS, are eager to prove themselves. In today’s Blue Ribbon/Gold Star/Sparkley Crown School competition, and with the requirements set by NCLB, I understand that administrators, like teachers and students, are pushed to perform, and pushed to produce the results that have been labeled as “indicators of success.” But meeting administrators that desire the banners, the photo ops and the publicity at the cost of the well-being of their teachers bothers me.
I’m qualified. I do a good job. As a rather simplistic job description, I’m paid to require other people to think. But I’m tired of meeting administrators who don’t like the fact that I myself have opinions and am willing to share them, especially when I’m asked what they are in an interview. I don’t challenge administrator’s authority, nor do I disrespect their role, but I’m very clear on what I think that role is: school administrators are employed to make sure I can do MY job effectively for our students. A principal might hire me, but it’s his or her job to provide safety plans, collegial group time, and various other resources for any student and/or teacher support that is necessary. Principals are guides, to help me and my colleagues achieve not just OTHER peoples’ goals for our school and district, but the goals we set for ourselves and our students. Principals should be advocates not only for students, but for teachers, support staff, and other paraprofessionals whose jobs make student learning possible each day.
This “them versus us” is getting old. Am I really the only person who feels this way?
Flies and Sugar
My mother used to tell me “you can catch more flies with sugar than with vinegar.” Sometimes she substituted “honey” for “sugar,” but vinegar always stood firm. As a child I never wondered about the meaning, I just wondered what in the world my mother was doing TRYING to attract *flies*! As I grew older and became interested in making more friends in school, I realized that if I smiled, offered a helping hand, or witheld a verbal or physical “zing” in response to to any offense, I (at the very least) earned polite avoidance from would-be bullies or ill-tempered classmates. Thankfully, I managed to go above and beyond the bare minimum response and made some amazing friends who vibrantly color my school memories from Barrow, Delta Junction, Fairbanks, and beyond to this day.
As a teacher I’ve followed the Golden Rule even when it wasn’t the easiest decision to make, nor my first reaction. I’ve remained patient, bitten my tongue, and politely steered when necessary. I’ve taken the time to listen, even if the subject was off-topic, or was a tool of avoidance on the parents’ part. Behaving this way has been my investment in my students, their families, my colleagues, and my job. Extra time and patience in the beginning makes it more efficient later on. Parents don’t jump to conclusions, don’t knee-jerk react, and colleagues don’t feel they are working in a hostile environment. Relationship building doesn’t necessarily mean we like eachother, but it does mean we choose to get along and follow an acceptable set of social rules. Parents might think my teacher dresses are a little hokey at times (hey, five year olds LOVE turkey and Pilgrim dresses in November!), but they know their children are safe and eager to learn with me.
After my job as teacher has ended, I’ve gone on to enjoy friendships outside of school with former parents as well, staying in touch, bending an ear, sending cards, going for coffee… which is when I’ve been able to shift my persona and responsibilities from professional teacher to sincere friend. As a side note, I’m a little quirky in that regard: I don’t believe in “crossing the line” during the school year. I don’t attend Tupperware, Longaberger or even Pampered Chef parties, nor do I go out to dinner or visit my students’ homes until I’m DONE being “the teacher.” Mutual respect of privacy is a good thing, though as a kindergarten teacher, there’s not much about a child’s home life that I don’t know about after the first two weeks of school. (Parents, remember there is a “pretend” or “house” center in my classroom. Just as you see replays of “me” each evening as your child plays in his/her room, I see replays of YOU daily!)
As a mother, I have enjoyed the professional courtesy given to me by my friends and colleagues with whom I’ve worked. I’ve known which teachers have the most complimentary teaching style for my childrens’ personalities and interests, I have had the inside scoop on school activities, programs and policies, and I’ve been privy to the “real” bottom line educational information that falls under Teacher-ese headings such as “curriculum,” “standards/benchmarks,” “assessments,” “percentiles,” “sub-groups,” “schema,” “cognition,” “literacy,” and “advanced placement.” I get *details* and am not merely told if my children are “doing well in school” and thanked for my support.
After defining, setting, and following my own personal and professional standards, I will admit to enjoying coming in under the radar when we move somewhere new and I’m visiting my childrens’ schools for the first time. I watch and listen as teachers and support staff help register students, give tours of the building, and explain the rules and school policies. I’m very pleased when I hear a common-speak that flows between Teacher-ese and the language of parents and families. It shows me that other teachers, school staffs, and administrators (districts?) have made that investment in their students and families (or are building upon it) that I make each year with my own class. It usually doesn’t take too long after talking with a teacher or school administrator before I’m discovered however, and then the sharing of the inside scoop begins. My poor kids roll their eyes, ask if they can look for their lockers and seek out the band room as I talk, teacher to teacher, with my new partners in education. Borrowing from Martha, it’s been “a good thing.”
Our family attended our daughter’s mandatory volleyball meeting earlier this evening. Following the school’s initial punitive and reactionary tone from the first week of school, the coaches and presenters continued by showing all parents in attendance a twenty minute video required by the district. Various school and sports representatives made it very clear via video that they expected us, the parents, to “be better spectators and parents” by not “ridiculing or intimidating another team or its fans,” understanding that “holding a ticket to a school event is not a license to assault others verbally or to be otherwise obnoxious,” and not yelling at our childrens’ coaches. Just more proof of how things have changed since I was in school. My parents would have never embarassed themselves, me, or my teammates by behaving horribly, and none of my coaches yelled at or berated me to try to get some desired response. My friends didn’t boo, but they did cheer louder for my team than the other, and we all shook hands and went out of our way to either be good hosts or good guests when road trips took place. Alaska may be a very large state, but it’s a very small community. You either know someone personally, or you know someone who knows someone from each town, village, city or borough. Being nice… “sugar…” matters.
Yes, I understand that this school’s and district’s tone has been set by whatever happened before our family arrived here, but my “sugar/vinegar” alarm has been going off for almost three weeks now, and I’m becoming depressed by the thought that there is a very good chance it will not cease in the next nine months.
Closing comments from this evening included a promise from the coach that she’d make sure volleyball was fun for the girls this year because NEXT YEAR with “that other coach” was going to be “rough.” WHAT?!?!?! She also asked that we NOT call the principal or athletic director for the school district until we had talked to her first. Fair enough, but her reasoning was this: if we need to know why she “yelled at” our children during practice or during games, it would be more appropriate to ask her directly than to go and complain to others.
I understand the flies and sugar. Now I’m wondering what kind of eighth grade volleyball requires yelling, verbal reprimands, and possibly public humiliation as coaching techniques.
So I’m a Mom AND a Teacher
We’ve moved to Texas thanks to Uncle Sam, and our eighth grade daughter’s first day of school has made quite an impression on her.
She was picked up late by the bus (the driver of which either drove the route incorrectly or followed a pick-up schedule that was changed by the school without notifying parents), which was completely full, three kids per seat. She got to school and dealt with the inevitable “we’re a no-nonsense school” attitude from each of her teachers (this is a middle school that had serious “troubles” three years ago, to include drugs, gang violence, etc)… found out that there are six whopping people in band, and she’s one of only two girls in it. When she told her English teacher that no, there were no “Mead Composition notebooks” in stores anywhere (yes, we looked at Target, K-Mart, Walmart, and Office Max on BOTH sides of town) her teacher’s response was “well, you will get some.” Ah, how pleasant. There were so many ticked off parents at the PX and Target today after school because many of their children brought home additional school supply lists from individual teachers after many of us thought the list we had been given at orientation had been rather…. comprehensive. Our daughter brought home TWO additional supply lists, and then gave me the papers she was dreading, the “these are my rules, don’t break ‘em ’cause these are the heavy duty consequences” notes from teachers who wanted parent signatures on them. I had to correct the note from the English teacher because the grammar she used fell short of “meeting” MY “standards” (remember folks, I’m a kindergarten teacher).
All this after yesterday’s El Paso newspaper crowed on and on about the 35-45% of teacher new hires this year that DO NOT HAVE TEACHING DEGREES. They did the quickie “teacher certification” through an “alternative certification program.” So bankers, engineers, etc. are now teaching fourth graders. First graders. Kindergartners. High school kids. And I, as a teacher with a degree in Elementary Education, with twelve years teaching experience, and four state teaching licenses, have not been hired. Because I cost 7,000-10,000$ MORE to hire than these “new alternate certification” teachers do. And the main reason the alternate program teachers WANTED to take “substantial pay cuts” by quitting their original vocations to become teachers? SO THEY’D HAVE SUMMERS OFF.
What teacher told any of them they’d get their summers “off?” My Lord. And I’m guessing you wouldn’t let a kindergarten teacher who changed her mind and decided she’d “try her hand at being a surgical doctor” into her own practice after obtaining quickie medical licensure in a year-and-a-half’s time!
So our girl questioned us as to why all she and the other students heard today were the lists of punitive actions that would be taken against students for infractions such as: being tardy ONCE, “challenging teachers’ authority,” and not having the exact notebook paper a teacher requested. Apparently many of the teachers at her school have been told that if they yell and appear serious and hard-assed, they have AUTHORITY and will be given RESPECT. Our daughter is *not* a problem child. She aces all of her classes and is a whiz at math. She enjoys humor, kindness, silliness. In short, she’s a young girl. More child than woman. And I guess she’s outnumbered. She has always had favorite teachers. Favorite subjects. Favorite pieces of music to play. Hobbies, giggles, and still likes Disney pre-teen shows. Up until this year, she has always ENJOYED school. ENJOYED learning. ENJOYED building relationships with those who have helped her on this trek so far. Now she is under the impression that teachers here don’t care, don’t want to care, and just expect compliance. I’m hoping this will not be a long year.
All this from the school district that has produced seniors in high school (that I have personally assessed during my brief stint at the learning center) that don’t know how the prefixes “uni, bi, and tri” change words. Seriously.
We don’t want to be stationed here after the SGM Academy is over. And we will certainly not be retiring here.
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