My Priveledge. NOT my Burden

I am a public educator. I work at a school that has embraced the philosophy that every child can learn and has a right to the highest possible rigor. I am trained in ways to meet the need of each child individually in my classroom. It is my responsibility and my privilege to teach every student in my room regardless of race, gender, socioeconomics, learning needs, sexual orientation, or any thing else under the moon.
You, the parent, have one child to worry about. To take care of. To guide through the crazy world of 8th grade. Leave the other 99 to me. DO NOT make excuses for your child based on the other students who are in my room. DO NOT let your child make excuses for him/herself because of the biases and perceptions he/she has of other students in the room. I guarantee you, those perceptions are wrong.   I WILL NOT justify the number of brown kids in my room or the number of kids with and without learning disabilities.
I WILL talk about your child. I will talk about his or her learning needs and if they are being met. I will work with you and your child to ensure learning is happening and support exists in my room for him to be challenged every day... as long as he is willing to take on those challenges.
Do not assume you know my burden. It is not the kids with the IEPs. It is not the kids on TAG plans. It is not a single one of my students. They are my joy and my reason for showing up each day.


 And guess what, that kid you son thinks is dumb, that kid with the autism that says funny things in class... yeah, she  just kicked his butt on the last test... but I won't tell you that... that information is confidential and it's time for your son to worry about his own learning and his own ability.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Oh my goodness. I am tired. I am tired all the time. And I'm so behind. How am I so behind? I was caught up just days ago, but now I feel months behind. I'm at school early every morning, but the first hour is eaten by emails and such for the 1,000 too many committees I'm on. Department head. Content Facilitator (that means I go to lots of district meetings). Ski bus organizer. East coast trip leader. Team leader. Building Union Rep. District Union Rep. Math articulation team (that means more district meetings).
And when that part is done- I still have a classroom to take care of and teaching to do. And it's finally catching up to me. It's 8:00pm and I'm going to bed.

schools in crisis

I'm exhausted by budget talks. Budget talks. Budget talks end with lost jobs, lost pay, bigger classes, less supplies, more work and stress. So much stress. The cuts we must make will go so deep, will hurt so bad... I have trouble understanding how we come back to normal. Will there ever be normal again? Every time we cut, things don't come back in better times. We have rooms in our schools that were used for wood shop, home ec, photography... cut in hard times... and never back again. So when we lose media specialists, when classes go up to 38, 39, 40, 41... we will ever see a return to now? Or will this become the norm? I long for classes under 30. A classroom I can walk around easily in, the time to meet with each student, the energy to grade a set of tests in one evening. All I see ahead is exhaustion.
And with it all comes guilt. Guilt I can't be happy it's not worse. We're not losing 12 days like a near by district. We haven't all been fired like the teachers in New Jersey. We aren't left without a contract and about to strike like some other chapters in the state. We aren't wasting precious classroom time to fight for basic rights like the teachers in Wisconsin. But really-- if I'm supposed to be grateful because my district has managed to avoid falling that far into trouble-- we have depressingly low standards for what qualifies as job satisfaction for educators. 

I love my job so much. I love being a teacher. I love it. And I'm good at it. But after meeting with the principal, meeting with the union, and meeting with the staff... all to discuss... really depressing prospects... I'm tired.

When the outside world comes in.

I knew, always, that I would work in public education.
There are special challenges that come with working in public education. Our doors are closed to nobody. In my classroom I have students with learning disabilities, autisim, high intelligence. Students who live in five bedroom homes, and students who live in shelters. My challenge, and my JOY is meeting the needs of each student. We don't select students based on applications or ability to pay.

But now, I am feeling the sting of being a public servant. At the whim of government budgets, suddenly I am preoccupied with measures that will directly effect the quality of education I can provide. Ballot measures are up for a vote and they will decide millions of dollars for already strapped schools. And I'm stressed about it.

The campaign against any tax increase always takes on a fierce and nasty tone in this state. Lies stream through the radio, villifyin public workers and government spending. I take it so so so personally. I AM that public worker. The running of schools is the government spending. These are not imaginary things. When people say they are voting no, I feel it deep in my heart. How could they NOT belive in public education? Why did I get that deep feeling of pride, while others only think of saving $140? (Really, that is what bussinesses would save in a year... and my district loses 19.2 million). I know some of the No votes are just misunderstandings of the law. But the rest just STINGS. It stings.

I love my job. But more than that, I am so proud to be working with each of my students, no matter what their strength or challenges.

It hurts when the public speaks against my work. These measures might pass... but the sting of the advertising and reporting against these measures stays with me for much to long.

New Year, New Start... same old kids...

In just a few days I'll be back in the classroom. I'm rested, I'm ready, and I'm hoping for a snow day. That's just the way it goes.
The week before break proved to be as hard as every year. Something about THAT week, beyond all other weeks, just exhausts me. These two weeks off keep me sane. I rest. The students rest. We come back with new energy and enthusiasm.
There will be plenty to write and reflect on in the new year.
We got a new student before the break that will provide plenty to write about. Five days into his time at school and he has already been out of school suspended.
I have a student I want to get more special services for-- but it's going to mean some battles with red tape.
We have ballot measures that will determine how many days the doors of the school will stay open. (VOTE YES- 66 and 67.)
And always, there is the unknown. 2010--- here it comes.

Like any job...

Sunday nights, I can't imagine leaving the weekend and jumping back into the chaos of work. After three years I'm learning not to bring as much home (yes, I still grade papers at home... ). For two whole days I am separate from my life as teacher. I talk to grownups about grownup things. I drink wine. I take my time eating lunch (it can be hard to break the 20 minute lunch shovel). I do laundry... slowly. I see my family.
As I sit on couch, blues music in the background and a kitty in my lap, tomorrow seems so far away. To get through a day of teaching my brain and body move at full speed ALWAYS, so, to cope, I think I've finally found a way to slow myself way down when I'm out of the school environment.
I rest, I recover, and I let myself forget (in just 48 hours) the stress I felt Friday afternoon. In this way, I am able to get myself back in the classroom Monday morning energized and optimistic, ready to start the race through the week again.

Meaningful Feedback

Right now my challenge is getting work graded and back in student's hands quick enough for it to mean something to them. In theory, when students take a test or turn in work they should have it back within 24 hours so that they can see where there are gaps in their learning and then we can work together to fill those gaps.
But I have a life.
I bring home projects and they sit all weekend, untouched. I have a new home, an unfinished kitchen, limited time with my husband, and the weekends go by so quickly. And the time SHOULD be mine- but if I try to fit all my grading, planning, teaching, etc into my actual work day it just simply won't all get done. It is my professional responsibility to get these things done. So something needs to come home with me. Or I need to stay at school late (very late). And just when the grades are all caught up, the next project will get turned in, or the next test will happen, and we're right back to where we started.
But there is hope, I'm learning how to design assignments that are easier to grade. I'm learning to put some of the responsibility in the hands of the students. This year I have only 100 students instead of 120. I can get through it. But, as I sit here, looking at that pile of projects and looking out the window at the beautiful October sun I have trouble getting motivated to lock myself away with the projects for the next five hours.

Keeping out the crab

Every year there is one. Or two. Or three.
Those kids that just know how to make me growl and snarl and be a grouch.

Most days I can shrug, I can laugh, I can make it a teachable moment. The times when I find I can only glare and I can feel the hot fire boiling inside of me I know one thing: I. am. tired.
I want to blame that one. Or those two. Or the three talking students in the corner. BUT-
Feeling cranky has become my reality check. The truth remains that, from one day to the next, no student behaves especially better or worse than he or she did the day before. Yesterday Sam made funny noises during my lecture and yesterday Matt had a smart comment every time he raised his hand (but he raised his hand! This is progress!) and yesterday Grace kept talking to anyone near her and yesterday all that was fine.
Today, Sam behaves pretty much the same and today Matt makes comments just like before, and today Grace keeps up the constant chatter, but today it makes me crazy.
So see, after three years of teaching, I finally see. These bad days are all about me. Not the one, not the two, not the three students.
Today I felt too tired to shoot a quick comment back to Matt and today my mind just did not want to take Sam out to the hall to talk quietly and today Grace just made me crabby. The challenge becomes fighting the tired and giving the students the consistency they deserve in my temper and countenance. I have to go on the attack. To bed early tonight. Tomorrow I walk to school (I finally live close enough) and take the extra ten minutes to breath in fresh air and clear my head. I will remember to have some breakfast in the morning. I get my desk organized. I get caught up on grading.
When I am sane, I am happy. When I am happy, I don't snap at my wonderful students. When I don't snap at students the day and the learning and the week go so much nicer.

Back to School Night

The preparation. The anticipation. The stress. All for one night.

Back to School.

This is THE night. I think about what message I can give parents about the year in math in 8 minutes . I place handouts at the door and sign ups for volunteers. Two days ago, students filled out schedules to take to their families. Heck, my team even bought door prizes (at the dollar tree, we only can give so much) to raffle off to our lucky parents.

Tonight, 30 minutes to launch, the power blows. Poof. A frantic call to the power company. Two hours, we're told, before power can be restored. So, we are sent to doorways and to the parking lots to direct parents back to their homes. Sorry folks, guess we'll meet you another night. I, personally, breath a sigh of relief. As the math teacher, I'm usually the one attacked at back to school night. Parents are sure if they don't get the math part of schooling situated JUST SO, their child will fail life. They want to talk and talk and question and on and on, and I just want to go home and sleep so I can teach the next day.

But, I'm not out of the woods. We've been told all will be rescheduled. So, another day of preparation. Another day of anticipation. Another piece of stress.

Also worth noting, I'm always amazed how quickly teachers can throw together an impromptu "let's get a beer" when the time calls for it.