"Tis the Season

A few weeks ago, I shared a crazy idea with my husband. It was one night during my Thanksgiving break, so I could actually stay up and watch TV for a little while after Charlotte went to bed; when school is in I usually follow her 7:30 bedtime by about 10 minutes. We were sitting in the living room watching TV and I turned to him and said, "I want to do a community service project with my kids for the holidays." To his credit, he didn't laugh at me. I could see it cross his mind though, and I can't really blame him. My students have a lot of good qualities, but they're still teenagers, and like every other teenager in America, they mentally check out from Thanksgiving until about...January. The three weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas are, for teacher and student alike, mostly a formality.

I wanted--needed, really--to try and see my idea to fruition. When the thought of a service project first took seed, I went through all the usual holiday charities: Toys for Tots, Angel Tree, canned goods for this organization or that, and though they are all wonderful causes, nothing really hit home for me. Then I remembered that last year, my mother-in-law had found an organization that sends cookies to soldiers who are deployed overseas, and I thought, "Military school...project to benefit soldiers....can't go wrong!" We pay so much attention to the people on our own soil who are struggling, and this year has seemed especially rough for so many families. But what about those men and women who don't even get to see their families during the holidays (or any other day, for that matter)? I sometimes take for granted that I can walk into the next room and see my daughter smile, but there are thousands of men and women who have volunteered their time and place their lives in danger on a daily basis just so I have freedom to see my daughter whenever I want--and THEY don't get to see THEIR children, or wives, or mothers, or fathers, or brothers, or sisters, and it doesn't seem fair.

So on the first day back to school from Thanksgiving, I contacted a woman with an organization called Treats for Troops, which sends care packages with toiletries and home-baked cookies to military personnel who are deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan in remote areas. If we would put the packages together, she would pick them up care packages and see them mailed. I wrote a letter to send home with my kids that explained my idea: I asked them to donate the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, along with small personal toiletry items such as toothpaste, deodorant, soap, etc. I gave them two dates--December 15th and 16th--and a room number--the culinary arts classroom at Bartow High School--and told them to be there after school on those two days to bake cookies with me. I crossed my fingers and sat back to wait.

I'll be honest; my hopes weren't all that high. And I don't mean that to be disparaging toward my students, because I have seen leadership and teamwork and compassion in droves since I started working at Summerlin Academy. I just know that many of them have trouble remembering homework, so I wasn't sure they'd remember to buy and bring in flour and sugar. I know that today's teenagers often expect something in return for an action or behavior, and I refused to offer extra credit for bringing in supplies or helping out. I know that many families are too strapped to buy presents for their own children and loved ones, yet I was asking them to spend extra money on items that I planned to send off to someone I don't even know. I know that so many of them (myself included!) are so ready for Christmas Break that the last thing then wanted to do was come in and bake cookies with their teacher for two days after school on their own time. I knew all that, but I decided to try anyway.

I am so proud, and humbled, to say that I was proven wrong on every count. Those kids blew me away.

They brought in supplies by the bag and boxful. Bars of soap, sticks of deodorant, bottles of shampoo and shower gel, toothpaste, toothbrushes, baby wipes, pens, envelopes, greeting cards--my classroom looked like the personal care department in a drugstore. We take so many things for granted on a daily basis, like a hot shower or a bar of soap, that the troops who are deployed in remote areas of the Middle East may not see for months. Many of them live hours away from the nearest military base, and make do with whatever supplies are delivered to them, whenever they are delivered. Through the generosity of my students, we were able to put together about 25 care packages--gallon size Ziploc bags filled to the top with these essential everyday items.

In addition to the toiletries, cadets brought in bags of flour, sugar, chocolate chips. The BHS principal and his wife donated butter, eggs, and hours of babysitting. The culinary arts teacher graciously allowed us the use of her classroom and equipment. On the two pre-appointed days, about thirty kids showed up to bake cookies, and some stayed from after school until about 6 o'clock to measure, mix, bake, and bag (and occasionally taste-test) close to one thousand chocolate chip and sugar cookies. That's 83 dozen cookies. That's a LOT of cookies!

It might be a drop in the bucket compared to the thousands of men and women who are deployed overseas. I can't help marveling, though, at the generosity showed by these kids, at a time of year when most young people, and not a few older ones, are busy thinking about what they want from Santa. I am so proud of them, and at the risk of sounding saccharine, (I will not call it "the true meaning of Christmas") I think this kind of service adds an element to this time of year that makes it more fulfilling. So often you sit there in an ocean of shredded wrapping paper and torn bows and moderately thoughtful gifts and just feel empty. After the presents are opened and the eggnog drunk, then what? You go back to life, and it's just another day to mark off on the calendar. After days like today, however, I don't feel empty; I feel full of joy and pride in the young men and women that I have the privilege of teaching. If the efforts of the cadets make a few men and women smile, or allow a soldier to enjoy a home-baked cookie, then it's been worth it. I don't know if the kids see it that way, but I do.

Next year, get ready...I'm taking on the whole campus and making this a school-wide effort! Until then...Happy Holidays and a Blessed New Year!

For more information, go to http://www.treatsfortroops.info/.

Potty Time!

OK, so I know Charlotte just turned 2 like, 2 weeks ago, which means it's probably too soon to start potty training. She's starting to do some of the things that "they" say to watch out for--asking for a diaper change, wanting to sit on a potty, trying to dress and undress herself--but I still feel like she's not quite there yet. I've been trying to move her in that direction; I taught her the sign for "potty," and she can use the sign and say the word, and we say and sign it whenever it's time for a diaper change, but I'm not sure she's made a clear connection between the word and the act yet.

Still, when I was changing her diaper after her "nap" today, she looked at me and shook her little fist back and forth in the "potty" sign, and I thought what the heck. So we brought her little potty chair out into the living room, set up her wipes next to it, and she spent the next several hours running around as naked as a jaybird. She sat on her potty several times, but never "went" in it...and we had a few accidents. After she had an accident, she'd cry and run back to sit on her potty, so I know she makes the connection between the potty and its purpose--she's just not anticipating the need for it, as it were. It's ok though. Baby steps.

There are times, like today, when I'm honestly not sure I'm going to make it through toddlerhood. Charlotte has always been an easygoing kid, and I've had a pretty smooth run so far with her. The so-called "terrible twos," however, might be an entirely different story. This stage of a child's life is marked by a serious lack of patience, which leads me to believe that I myself have never outgrown the toddler phase. When Charlotte wants something, she wants it now, nevermind the fact that she lacks the language skills to communicate exactly what it is that she wants. She'll ask for juice, then launch into hysterics when you don't give her milk. She demands to brush her teeth, then hurls the toothbrush to the floor as soon as you hand it to her. She insists most emphatically on a specific pair of pajamas, but gets upset that she can't put them on all by herself. She just doesn't have the patience to wait or learn what she needs to know to accomplish her goals. And I get that, because I don't have the patience to wait for her to learn it either!

Which, yes, probably puts me in the front running for the Worst Mommy of the Year Award. And I do love my child more than my own life, but sometimes I think I was not cut out for this. I do see a huge difference in her reactions when I just step back and let her do it herself compared to when I try to just shove her arms into the shirt and be done with it...I just have a really hard time getting msyself to be patient enough to do that every time. Today was particularly difficult, as you may have guessed, because I had a ton of housework to do and Brian is sick in bed, so it was just me and the kid and a house that was so filthy I couldn't stand it anymore (thanks Loki). Let's just say that a naked, rambunctious toddler who hasn't taken a nap isn't a fun housecleaning companion, and let's also say that I didn't get a whole lot done. I was NOT a Patient Mommy today, unfortunately, and there were many times when I should have been. I have no idea how single moms do it...hell, sometimes I wonder how any mom does it! They are my heroes--those moms who have managed to raise children for millenia before me and not end up in the loony bin. I can't wait for the threes, and then starting elemtary school, and then adolescence and raging hormones, and the teenage years...maybe I should book my padded room now!

Mad World

Wendesdays are so awkward. They're too late in the week to complain about the weekend being over, but too early in the week to start anticipating the weekend to come. I often find myself floundering on Wednesdays, like a ship with no wind in its sails.

I woke up at 6 this morning. To any normal non-masochist, that might seem early, but it's actually the time I need to be leaving the house, not getting out of bed. Somehow I made it to work (mostly) on time. I missed formation, but them's the breaks.

I'm still not sure about this Summerlin thing. I wonder if I'm doing a good job with this new group. Everything at Summerlin is so different than what I'm used to. One of the arguments Brian always used to make was that I should teach there because in addition to my challenging the students, the students would challenge me. I laughingly told him that I wasn't sure I wanted to teach students who might be smarter than me...but I'm not really laughing now. I feel like I don't know what I'm doing, like I'm a really bad teacher and I could get away with that before because none of the students knew any better, but here I'm going to be revealed as a fraud. Intellectually, I know that's not true, but still....I worry. Sometimes I think I'm a much better teacher in theory than I am in practice.

It makes me tired.

So I'm going to bed.

We Should Do This More Often

Long weekends, that is. I was at the mall with my mom today, and we found an adorable outfit for Charlotte...only problem, they didn't have her size. (What is her size anyway? She's twenty-three months and two days--not that I'm counting--and she still wears eighteen month clothes. Go figure.) But of course, she HAS to have this super-cute outfit, so we discussed the possibility of going to Brandon to find it at another store. But when do we have time? We could go on Monday, I suggested...BECAUSE WE HAVE NO SCHOOL!!!!! Yay.

Anyway. Yes, I am stressed and tired enough that I'm getting more excited than usual about an extra day off. The house is coming together, slowly but surely, and we have about 4 weeks to get it together so it's ready in time for...Charlotte's second birthday party! Can you believe it? I know I can't...Brian and I were talking today about how we remember our drive home from the hospital with her so clearly it could have been yesterday. Charlotte was so tiny that her carseat swallowed her up; it didn't even hold her upright and I just KNEW she was going to fall over.

I mean, look at that. It can't have been safe! Brian drove about 40 miles an hour from the hospital to our house, and the whole way we're both looking out the windows at the world that was so familiar to us, and at the same time so completely changed from what we had known two days earlier. Every once in a while we'd look at each other like, "Who is going to let us take this child home and be responsible for her?" Sometimes I still think someone is going to come and tell me I have no business being a parent.

But...it hasn't happened yet. Until it does, I do the best I can with my baby girl who is becoming less and less a baby every day, but who, to me, will always be the tiny creature who rode home in that huge carseat.

How Time Flies

As I was sitting in my new classroom today, staring helplessly around at the huge pile of stuff that I've managed to accumulate during the past 5 years, one of my new coworkers popped in to say hi. He noticed that I'd spread my 50 or so photos of Charlotte on the chalk tray of my board (though, is it still called a chalk tray when it's a white board, not a chalk board?), and asked about her. He mentioned that his wife has a blog in which she writes about their young daughter, and how he'd printed the posts and put them in a book so one day their daughter could look through and see her growth from her parents' perspective. That conversation made me miss my blog, which led me back here. It's been quite some time since I've posted anything, as necessities seem to get in the way of wants, but it often seems that all those little requirements like work and food and laundry just don't matter as much when you can't do something you enjoy. So...here I am.

Honestly, I should be working in my room. This is going to be an interesting year (though I should probably be careful when I say that--more on that later); I have 4 different classes to teach, and what seems like increasingly less time to plan and execute my lessons effectively. Starting at a new school makes things a little more tricky, because I am still so unfamiliar with the policies and workings of the new machine. Hopefully, by the end of the week, I'll be a little more comfortable with my new surroundings. Right now, I'm sitting at my desk looking at my classroom, and not much seems different. A classroom is a classroom, a desk is a desk, a pencil is a pencil. But I know that on Monday morning, the students entering the room will not be my students, and that hurts a little. Or a lot.

I know they will become mine, just as this school will, but I do worry about the time it will take for us to acclimate to one another. I haven't felt the first day of school jitters like this since my first year of teaching!

In addition to moving jobs, I'm also moving houses. It's exciting but stressful, and I look forward to when it's all done. I would very much like to never have to buy another house or pack up and move again. It would be a lot easier if I just had time to do it, but with the start of the school year, I'm so limited in the time I can give. I feel quite ineffectual.

I also feel quite sore. Charlotte and I were involved in a three-car collision yesterday in the pouring rain...on the way home from the doctor...where we discovered that she has severe tonsillitis. A very young driver rear-ended us and caused me to hit the car ahead of me. Let's just say that my mom's poor Sienna looks like a Toyota Oreo. Let's also say that I never, ever want to be that scared again in my life. Even after it was over and I knew that Charlotte was safe, I still kept imagining all the ways it could have been worse...and I have a very active imagination! I know it doesn't do any good to dwell on the "what-ifs," but somehow I can't seem to stop. I wish there was a pause button, or better yet, a STOP.

So there you have my very hectic and emotional first day back at work--I very much hope the rest of the week (and year) isn't quite as "interesting" as the first day!

An Open Letter to Florida's Legislators

First, dear reader...how I have missed you.

Now, onto the matter at hand. Florida's legislature is pushing through at lightening speed a bill that threatens the very livelihoods of Florida's teachers. I urge you to email your state representatives to ask them to vote NO on the Merit Pay bill that today passed through the Florida House PreK-12 committee.

I have attached below the long version of the letter I spent much time composing during my free time today. The email I sent was much, much shorter, but I flatter myself that I said some things in the extended version that need to be said, even if no one hears them. Read on, and leave your thoughts.

I have been a teacher in Florida 5 years. In addition to the Bachelor’s degree I earned before entering the profession, I have completed 2 professional certificate endorsements comprising approximately 600 hours of coursework, over 18 hours of graduate coursework in educational theory and methodology, and over two hundred hours of professional development and workshops (often on my own personal time without extra pay, and sometimes at my own personal financial expense), all to further my own capability as a teacher, and all in addition to teaching a full complement of language classes ranging from remedial reading to Advanced Placement Language and Composition.

If this bill becomes law, those countless hours I have spent to further my professional goals will become worth less than the paper on which the certificates are printed. I cannot think of another profession where a person would not expect to be compensated in a manner commensurate with his or her education, qualifications, and experience. It seems, however, that the teachers of Florida are being denied the same considerations that any professional in the business sector would likely take as his or her due. Instead, our pay and job security will be based almost entirely on student performance on standardized tests. I find it quite disturbing to think that my very livelihood could potentially be based on a single snapshot of my entire years’ work, with absolutely no context by which to understand the picture. It would not tell you, for example, that the majority of my students are considered “at risk,” for reasons such as low socio-economic status, limited English proficiency, minority status, special education needs, etc. As their teacher, I am tasked with providing not only their education, but also an environment that is both physically and psychologically safe, boundaries and discipline, the only hot meal that many of these children will eat today, a shoulder to cry on then they need one, an encouraging voice when they need one, an advocate for students who suffer from abuse or neglect. If you have children, imagine for a second the struggles, triumphs, frustrations, and heartaches that you have experienced in the pursuit of raising them—now multiple it by about one hundred fifty. That is what Florida’s teachers face every morning, and that is a mountain of responsibility that can in no way be measured by a standardized test.

Consider, for example, your job as a state legislator. Pretend that you have to run for re-election EVERY year--no more of these 4-year terms--and you are running unopposed (because no one else really wants to do your job). You go out and campaign every day, you put up signs and billboards and shake hands and do everything you can to inspire people to come out and vote. But on election day, only a few people come out to the polls—maybe it’s raining, or they’re tired, or they just don’t feel like it that day. So, despite all your hard work and effort, the results are disappointing. Then, your boss decides that since not very many people voted for you, you must not be very good at your job, so you don’t deserve to get a raise this term. And when you protest that you did everything you could and have no control over whether people vote, you are told that you obviously didn’t do enough, and that if more people don’t show up to the next election, you will lose your job.

Obviously this is an extreme example, but I hope you can see my point—even when we do everything in our power to do our job well, there are often numerous factors outside of our influence. Unfortunately, the factors that lie outside of a teacher’s influence are often detrimental to a student’s academic performance. I have no control over the student who has missed 23 out of the last 45 days, or the one whose family is losing their home to foreclosure, or the one whose parents are divorcing. I have no control over a student who comes to school every day with no supplies, or who never does his homework, or the one who is thinking about her four-month-old daughter at home. I cannot control the student who moved to my school with literally no English, or the student who has to miss weeks at a time due to illness, or the one who has to work long hours to help make ends meet at home. Each of these scenarios represents a very real child who has sat in my classroom some time this year. I have to accept every one of these children into my room and treat each one equitably, with respect and dignity, even if I receive none in return. Unlike many businesses in the private sector (and I believe this to be the fundamental point of misunderstanding between teachers and non-educators), I cannot turn a child away.

If a customer walks into a store with no money, the proprietor can turn him away; teachers cannot turn away our customers for inability to “pay.” Doctors and lawyers can turn away patients or clients if their caseloads become too heavy; teachers can’t refuse to accept a new student because we already have too many. A business manager can fire an employee who is perpetually late or absent, or who doesn’t perform his expected duties, or who steals from the company; a teacher most definitely cannot “fire” a student who is late or absent, or who doesn’t perform, or who cheats.

No teacher who is worth his or her chalkboard will argue against some measure of accountability in our professional lives. In fact, accountability is a something we live with every day as it is. In my classroom, I have a shelf of large binders full of lesson plans, charts, graphs, data, and other various pieces of information on my students. At any given point, I could tell you which student was a level 1 reader last year, which student missed passing the FCAT by a single point, or which student is strong in vocabulary but weak in reference and research. By all means, hold us accountable, because those of us who are worth it have nothing to hide—in fact, we are already doing many of the things you seem to find necessary.

But please, I urge you, reconsider the methods of accountability that have been set forth in SB 6. Sentator Thrasher claims that this bill is going to “inspire teachers.” It seems to me that Sen. Thrasher is extremely out of touch with the feelings of Florida’s teachers. As one of those teachers, I do not feel inspired, only undervalued, frustrated, and discouraged. I can only think that other educators will feel similarly, especially those of us who teach at risk students or in critical needs areas. If we are to be evaluated largely on student test data, then why would I not go to a school in an upper-class area, or to an IB school, where my success is all but guaranteed? Why would I complete my Master’s Degree when there is no salary increase to acknowledge my effort and qualifications? How do you plan to inspire loyalty and dedication when every year we must worry if this year’s crop of students is going to make the grade?

Senator Lynn said yesterday that “good teachers will remain. They don’t need tenure to remain.” To some degree, she is correct. We don’t need tenure. We do need the respect of our legislators and the public. We do need accountability that is equitable and only a portion of the overall measure of our capability as educators. We do need an acknowledgement of the tremendous effort that a teacher puts forward every single day (including weekends and summers and breaks). That effort deserves to be rewarded, not ignored.

Finally, please understand who will suffer if this legislation is passed—the students. Without fail, every colleague with whom I have discussed this piece of legislature has said that if it passes, he or she will seriously consider leaving the profession. Almost certainly, SB 6 will cause teachers in low income schools to look to higher-performing schools for employment. Instead of attracting the best and brightest, legislation such as SB 6 will drive us away. In a field that already faces an attrition rate of higher than 50 percent within the first 5 years, can we afford to drive out even more? Can our students afford to lose the experience of teachers who have spent years honing their craft? Our students need the best teachers available, but in a state that is already dramatically behind the curve on teacher salaries, SB 6 is only going to serve as another wedge to drive teachers from the classroom.

Again, I urge you to reconsider Senate Bill 6. Look at the overwhelming evidence that shows how ineffective merit pay has proven and put aside this measure that will do nothing to “fix” Florida’s schools. Take the time to create educational legislation that is based on the realities of education, not the assumptions of someone who has never set foot in a classroom.

Sincerely,

Me

Seems Like I Say This a Lot...

...but things are SO busy! All the time...

I did want to take a minute to upload some new videos of Charlotte, because she is *finally* starting to stand by herself and walk! We've actually taken her to have her development evaluated because she's almost 16 months old (tomorrow, in fact!) and not walking yet. So, wouldn't you know, AT the evaluation, she takes her first 2 steps by herself!

That was last week, and she hasn't shown much interest in walking since then, but tonight she was all about it! These are some silly videos showing her new interest (putting her shoes into her diaper pail), walking with her "lawnmower," which, unlike her other push toys, is NOT supported--she has to hold it up on her own--and finally some Moo in Mommy's lap silliness. Loves her!