The Pencil Wars

The pencil wars are coming.  But first off...

I am part of this research team called "SERP", which stands for "Strategic Education Research Partnership".  The premise behind the organization is that lead researchers at Universities around our area team up with local educators, and create tasks/lessons that can be analyzed to assess student thinking.  The team has come up with a number of different ways to evaluate students thinking, and have some really interesting approaches towards doing math and introducing students to new/difficult concepts.

I bring this up, because today the SERP team came to my classroom and recorded me while I presented a particular lesson.  This particular question is called "The Dragonfly".  I'm not totally sure how much of what we did today I am at liberty to share on my blog, but the general approach is this:

1. Introduce the body of information about the question, but no question.  Students think about/consider the information presented.
2. Students hypothesize as to what types of questions might be asked using the information presented
3. Present the students with the actual question I want them to address.  When they finish with that, then they work on one of the other questions that students came up with previously.
4. Students present and justify their particular approach to solving the question.  There is no one right "approach" to answering the question. 

After arranging the appointment with the SERP media team to record the lesson, I was nervous.  I was nervous, not because I didn't think my students could handle the lesson, but because of their behavior in class.  If I am not continually on top of them and riding them for their behavior, they go out of control.  And a big part of the lesson is me getting down with my students, and pushing their thinking, which limits the amount of energy that I can expend keeping them in check.

Today, my concerns were completely unjustified.  When the students saw the big camera in the classroom, and me wired with a microphone, they knew something was up and their behavior was extra, extra amazing today.  To be honest, they were probably up to par today with any other classroom, but for my kids, they were awesome.  Maybe I should have them come film my classroom every day... because they truly were stars today!

On the flip side, another one of my policies, one of the programs that makes my class succeed (occasionally), one of my high expectations for my students, one of the ways for me to ensure that my students are prepared for class has been shot down by the administration.  They're claiming that it is against the law to prevent my students to come to class without the supplies that they are EXPECTED to have with them every day, like their math binders or more specifically - a pencil.  I literally haven't been letting my students into the classroom without a pencil, and if they show up without one, then I tell them they'd better find one somewhere because they're going to need it.  Every day.  There has never, ever, ever in the entire history of my classroom been a single day where we haven't used a pencil.  I don't know what makes my students think that they can show up to my classroom without a pencil, and be ok with it.

This was a huge war for me last year.  I literally would spend the first 10 minutes of class making sure that all of my students had pencils, and were able to finally do something about their work.  I tried everything under the sun to make sure that they were prepared, like trading pencils for something of value to them, charging them for pencils, having them work them off in my classroom, calling parents to get pencils for their child, giving them broken pencil stubs to encourage real pencils, tying being prepared in class to their grade, giving them participation points (which evidently is also illegal... although I'm lacking the evidence to support that stance) and even just giving them out.  That last one failed miserably, as I started going through about 50 pencils every single day.  I HATED the pencil wars with a passion, and I just figured it was one that I was destined to lose.

Until one day I finally just got so fed up with my students not bringing pencils that I told them "You aren't entering my classroom tomorrow unless I see a pencil in your hot little hands."  Ever since that day, 98% of my students bring a pencil to class, unfailingly.  In our little chaotic corner of the world, I'd gladly call 98% a success.  And now I'm being told that I can't do that any more, and that I have to just give my students pencils because that's what the Williams Law requires.  I'm personally calling bull crap on this one, but unfortunately until I can find the evidence to support my position, I'm going to have to cave.  If anyone out there can help me find the full write up on the Williams Legislation, I'd be extremely grateful. 

Day by day, it seems like the systems that I've found to be effective in my environment are being pulled out from under me.  My motto at school has always been "Do whatever it takes for me to get the job (educate my kids) done", but it seems the tune these days is changing to "Be hesitant to take any action because odds are you're stepping out of line with some unknown protocol or breaking an obscure law, so be mediocre and play it safe".  

Forget it.

Evidently I'm becoming a rebel.  I say this, because today alone, the third day of the week, I was chewed out three times by administrative figures at my school for not following protocol.

The first time, I was chewed out because I had a student that was being extremely disruptive in the classroom, and I tried to follow protocol with him.  Protocol dictates that I call the office to send me a security officer to escort the student to the counseling center.  The problem with this is that about 50-70% of the time, the security officer never actually shows up.  So then I still end up with having to deal with the heinous situation that is my classroom, with the disruptive student now empowered knowing that I can't do anything with him:  I can't send him out because I don't have an escort to take him out and he can now do whatever the heck he wants in the classroom because he's already been "sent out".  So for the sake of the learning of the majority of my students, I literally grab the student, kick him out of my class (without an escort *gasp*) and get back with my lesson.  Peace.  Until the administration comes and chews me out for not following protocol, something that they've been getting much, much, much more strict on lately.  And to be totally honest, I applaud their efforts, because I think it's the first step towards getting our school on track.  However, when my attempts to follow protocol aren't met with the response that is demanded, I do what it takes to get my job done, which is educate my students - to hell with the protocol.

The second time occurred after I had failed to get my attendance turned in. The protocol with attendance changes on a daily basis, and today, the protocol was to put the attendance in an envelope on the inside of the door in my classroom, and security is supposed to come by every period and pick it up.  They came after first period, and never again for the rest of the day.  Now, I have my normal math class, which takes place in my classroom, but then I have my other classes which take place in the computer labs at the school.  So, come 7th period, I'm in the computer lab of the school, and our attendance office comes to the lab to pick up my attendance.  Our dialog goes something like this:

Attendance:  "Do you have your attendance?"

Me:  "Yeah, here it is." (I give him 7th period attendance)

Att. "Where is the attendance from your other periods?"

Me:  "I don't have it here..."

Att.  (Look of enormous frustration and distaste on his face) "Come on man!  You need to have your attendance with you, we've been talking about this for weeks, and you always have a problem with this!  You never have it with you - so where is it?"

Me:  "It's in the envelope back in my room, by the door.  It hasn't been picked up since first period."

Att.  "...Well, I don't have a key to your room.  Go get it."

I can't win here.  I just can't win.

And the third time, oh this was by far the best of the day.  So, for the most part, protocols in general at my school follow the basic rule of the weather in Venezuela.  Don't like it?  Wait about 10 minutes, it'll change.

Yesterday at the staff meeting, we talked about what to do with students in the hallways during lunch.  We came to the conclusion that there are to be NO students in the hallway at lunch, period.  I'd say this was new, but it's not - that's been the policy since I started working there.  We can let them think it's new policy though.  Anyhow, due to this policy, if I have students who come talk to me about wanting to come to my classroom and work during lunch, I will go down to the lunchroom, let them grab their lunch, and then bring them with me to my classroom.  If they come with me, great, if not, then they miss out and I don't let them in.  Today was no exception.

But it was raining.  And so all the students end up staying inside the building, and it just so happens that today we had some "support" from the district to help us manage the students.  As I'm walking back to my classroom with one of my students, the district person tells me that no students are allowed in the hallways without a pass. Uh... ok.  Yesterday we agreed on NO students in the hallway period, but forget it, whatever.  I go back to my classroom with the original student I brought with me, and we get to work.  Not 5 minutes later, I hear yelling in the hallway, feet pounding down the hallway as they go running past my room, and then some more yelling, and finally someone pounds on my door (My students always do this, and I HATE it, regardless of how many times I have them try it again.  They don't know how to knock lightly, they pound like their lives depend on it).

I open the door, and there's not one, but FOUR students outside my door.  Supposedly the district person wasn't letting anyone by without a pass, but here I have four standing in front of me.  So I suppose that she let them by for heaven knows what reason.  Remember, original school policy is that there are to be no students in the hallways...  I ask them what they want, and three of them say that they want to come in and work with me.  I tell them no for various reasons, mostly because I hadn't talked to them beforehand, and I was working with someone else.  The fourth student left her instrument in my classroom, so I let her grab it.  As I'm speaking with these students, the district person comes storming by my classroom, chasing after some other student, and says something about me letting students in my classroom without passes.  Ok.  The students in the hallway leave, and I'm back to working with my student in my classroom.

2 minutes pass.  I hear keys at my door and in steps our admin with the district person.  They go on to assault me about not following protocol, about having students in my classroom without passes, and that these rules don't hold up when the teachers of the school blatantly ignore them.  I stifled a laugh at this point, and humbly point out that the only student I have in my classroom at this time is the one student I brought back from the lunchroom with me.  I mention that I didn't let any of them in, except the one to grab her instrument she left in my classroom, and she left immediately afterward.  BAM!  NAILED ME!  That was my fatal mistake - I let the student into my classroom without a pass. They proceed to drive into me for the next few minutes - that this is exactly what they're talking about, and how I have complete disregard for the rules.  WHAT RULES?!?!  The rules change every 30 seconds at this place - I have no ideas what rules I'm following and which ones I'm breaking, because I have no clue what the actual rules are!

I can't stand this place.  It's a seething pile of inconsistent incompetency.  If I didn't love my students as much as I do, I would truly, truly hate working here.  But, my desire to see them succeed thankfully overwhelms my disdain for the rest of the crap I have to put up with, and makes working at my school tolerable.  But only just barely.

On the plus side, there were a few great things that have happened this week.  For starters, I had a substitute teacher hail me as her saving grace when I came in and assisted her classroom during my prep period yesterday.  As I left, she said "I can honestly say that you are the only math teacher in this school district that could be on TV."  Now that I think about that, I'm not sure what she meant by that, but I'm going to take it as something positive.

Also, I had a Conscious Classroom Management consultant tell me that "If you were teaching math at any other school, you'd be the best math teacher in the district."  That was flattering, but then it caused me to think... well, why would I have to be at another school?  Wouldn't I be the best teacher in the district, especially since I'm teaching at my school?  I highly doubt it.  Ultimately, I think it was a subtle way of saying that my classroom management skills need some work, and that's what's holding me back from really being awesome.  So, something to keep striving for.

And finally, the best thing that has happened, possibly this year, was one of my students came in to get some help after school today.  Last year, this young woman was a complete terror.  I loved the days when she didn't show up, because when she was there, life was awful.  This year, she has completely turned her game around.  Today she was telling me that last year she took her GPA from a 1.2 up to a 2.2, and this year has taken it all the way up to a 3.4!  I told her I've seen the difference in her attitude, in her participation, in her test scores, in everything.  I asked her what has caused this change, and she said "My dad."  3 legged stool anyone?

This is the reason why I'm in this job right now.  Forget the administration, forget the bureaucracy, forget the worthless professional developments and forget (gladly) all the crap that the district gives us.  It really all comes down to the students, and being able to make a difference in their lives.  I don't know where she'll be 5 years from now, but I am feeling much more confident in her future now than I would have at this same time last year.  She has limitless potential, and I'm glad to be a part of unlocking that.

She said she wished we had an art program at the school, and I agreed.  But in the mean time, I'm always glad to draw with her.  So when we finished math, we drew this on my smartboard - my first drawing in years...

It's a sunset, in case you can't tell.

The Bayview

Thurgood Marshall is the high school that my school feeds in to - we literally share a fence with them.  The video that I've linked below was done by the peer resource group at Thurgood Marshall, which I think is very enlightening, but scares me to death to think that this is where my students are headed.  Welcome to the Bayview.

Moted.

I have a math support class, and under the orders of a District mandate, during this class our students are supposed to use the computer lab for a little program called EPGY.  EPGY is a web-based piece of computer adaptive software that supposedly scaffolds itself to the skill level of each individual student.

Now, I say supposedly, but that's not totally accurate because the program does do OK, you just have to tweak it a lot to get it there.  Anyhow, as per the district EPGY czar, our students are supposed to log approximately 100 minutes per week on this program - and as the district peon, I am lithe to obey.

As one might expect, if the district demands us to do something, naturally, the students are going to hate it.  And as far as EPGY goes, they do.  They will do ANYTHING to get out of working on EPGY, and due to this fact, my time in the computer lab is more spent as a policeman than a teacher.  It drives me nuts, because not only do I get to fill the role of a babysitter on a daily basis, but now I get to be a policeman.  As a policeman, there are two specific behaviors that warrant consequences.  One is if a student is out of their seat.  They aren't supposed to leave their seat at any time without permission.  The second is that they aren't supposed to visit any other website except for EPGY.  Within the lab, there is a "one strike and you're out" policy, meaning that if you break either of these rules, then I'm kicking you out of class with a referral, and the principal's blessing, and you'll spend the rest of the period in ISS (In-School Suspension).

Rule number one is fairly easy to enforce, but for rule number two, the best tool that I have at my disposal in the lab is some network monitoring software that allows me to view all the activity of the students - I can see each of their screens, what programs they have open, and what website they are on.  It's a great tool, but since I'm never sitting at a computer, and instead walking around the classroom helping students with questions, I don't get to utilize it much.  However, there are instances where it is really useful... like this one.

I walked around the edge of the room, as silently as I could, so that I could catch my students unaware.  There are tell-tale signs that a student isn't doing what they're supposed to be doing.  For instance:

1. The student keeps looking up at you to see where you are in the room
2. The student turns their screen away from you so it is angled away from you
3. The student frantically clicks their mouse as your approach
4. The student has a blank screen when you walk by
5. The student has "guilty eyes"
6. The student minimizes the window they are on right as you approach
7. They call to another student across the room to come look at their screen - honestly, who do they think they're kidding on this one?  HEY DESMOND!  COME LOOK AT MY SCREEN!  I HAVE A REALLY COOL MATH PROBLEM UP!!!
8. And my personal favorite - 5 students are standing behind another student's computer watching them "do math".  Now, if my kids were more "math olympian" status, I could actually see this being a thing.  But at the WB?  We're not quite there yet...

Desmond gave me #5, which drew me to his part of the room, which was quickly followed up by #3 and #6. Gotcha.  I go to the teacher station, and call Desmond over.

Desmond looks up at me, then back at his computer - probably making sure the screen is on EPGY - and then comes to my desk.  

"Desmond, why do you think I called you over here?"

"But I was on EPGY!!! (Note that I hadn't even accused him of anything yet)  Look at my screen and you'll see!"

I look on his screen from my computer, and pull it up.  Sure enough, the screen is showing EPGY.

So Desmond looks at me smugly and says "See?  You moted."  (for those who don't know what moted means, reference here)

One of the great things about this monitoring software is that not only does it show what programs they have open and what websites they are currently on, but it also shows their history, and what websites they've been on.  

So I give Desmond my death stare and say "Sure, now it's on EPGY, but let's check your web history..."  And as soon as I said history, Desmond looks at the floor and says "Damnit." and just walks back to his desk, logs off his computer, and heads towards ISS.  

I didn't have to say a word.  He knew the consequence, he knew he'd been caught, and he probably didn't want to wait to hear me call out after him "You moted!"  

I will forever love Desmond for this.

Student's Dilemma

I came back from my 4-day turned 5-day weekend to a national disaster of a classroom.  This is something that I would have expected from my students last year.  Truly, I would have anticipated leaving the classroom for a few days, and returning to find my room in complete disarray - that's just how things went.

However, this year, I'd hope that my rapport and relationship with my students would have prevented them from acting in such a manner.  After returning to my classroom, it was quickly apparent to see that it has not.  And as such, I am sorely disappointed in my students.  I do believe that it was not the fault of all of my students, because there are many of them who are just stellar.  Sure, they may be a little disrespectful and chatty, but fundamentally are great kids.  But there are a few who I am confident were the culprits to not only destroying my classroom, but stealing a lot of supplies from my closet.

Now, the supplies that they stole aren't necessary of immense value (maybe $20 at most), but it's the fact that they would get into my supply closet, and actually steal them from me.  I'm truly hurt for those actions, because I really did believe that my relationship with my students stood for more than that.  I guess that I was wrong.

So, in attempt to bring the guilty party(ies) to justice, I've devised my own version of the prisoner's dilemma.  Here's how it works:

As it stands, if none of my students confess to who the guilty party is in the classroom, I'm going to call every one of their parents, and tell them that their student stole from me (I have a list of things that are missing) and that I expect compensation.  However, the students have a chance to prevent this from happen by choosing one of the circumstances below, according to the guidelines I am going to give them.

Each student will have a chance to confess on a sheet of paper if they are guilty or innocent to committing any of the crimes I lay before the class.  However, not only can they confess their own guilt/innocence, but they can claim their partners in crime as well.

1.  Confess to their crime.  If they confess to their crime, then I won't alert their parents of their misdeeds, but I will require them to compensate me for what they stole from me.

2.  Claim innocence, but are guilty according to others.  If they claim they're innocent, but other students said that they are guilty, then I will call their parents and inform them of what they stole from me, and explain that i expect them to compensate me for my loss.

3.  Claim innocence, and are not condemned by their peers.  In this instance, there will be no punishment.

In the rare event that all my students claim innocent, then all the parents will be called anyhow.  I highly doubt this will happen.

The one situation that I can foresee happening is that someone claims that they're guilty, and then decides that they're going to bring down all their friends with them, even if they really were innocent.  I'm not completely sure how I'm going to handle that one... But the bell's about to ring and I have to get ready for class.  I'l let you know what I decide...

Strange

Why can't I get my class to stop talking long enough to hear the directions for a game we're about to play, but I can make them sit at their desks silently for 10 minutes when I'm ticked off at them?

The Parable of the 3 Legged Stool

Imagine a simple, 3 legged stool.  The stool has a flat, round surface at the top, and from the bottom extend three legs, spaced in even thirds around the outer edge of the round surface.  The stool works well when all 3 legs are on the floor.  The stool is stable, and you can use it for all sorts of activities.  You can stand on it to get the fondue pot down off of the top shelf in your storage room, you can sit on it at the kitchen bar while you have breakfast with your family, or you can use it as an extra stand to place food on during Sunday dinner when the rest of the table is overflowing with deliciousness.  It's useful, it's versatile, and it doesn't take a lot of upkeep to maintain its standing status.

Now imagine that someone has been leaning back on the stool while they sit on it, applying a concentrated amount of pressure to a single one of the legs on the stool causing it to snap off.  A stool with two legs has lost the majority of its value as a functional tool. About the only uses that I can think of for a two legged stool is to use it to prop up something else that is applying sufficient downward pressure on it so as to prevent it from falling over under its own weight, or to use it to lean against, but without being actually able to sit down on it.

Since the stool is already broken, the functionality of the stool has already been compromised, and the integrity of having the legs function in their proper manner is no longer in tact.  It is only a matter of time until a second legs breaks off.  And when it does, the once-three-legged-stool-turned-one-leg is now essentially useless as a functional platform.

While the stool can diminish in usefulness by the absence of legs, its usefulness can also be compromised by varying lengths in the legs.  If the legs are all of the same length, the stool will stand nicely on its own, and provide a great surface for the multitude of uses in which it may be applied.  However, if the legs are not the same length, depending on the degree of difference, the stool may lose its functionality all together, regardless of the fact that all three legs actually exist.

In addition to being connected to the flat, round platform at the top of the stool, the legs also need to be connected to one another further down via support struts. If the legs on a tall, 3 legged stool aren't connected to each other further down the legs, then the intense moment arm created near the base of the round platform by applied downward pressure will eventually cause the legs to split outward, and break the stool.

In this parable, the stool represent the functional platform of delivering a child's education.  The flat round surface is what the child actually receives - it's the educational device they "sit on" to perform.  If it is a stable platform with all three legs securely in tact, the stool can be used for nearly anything.  It is in this situation that the child has the greatest chance for success.

Each of the legs of the stool represents a different educational pillar that supports the educational platform.  The first leg represents the parents, the second leg represents the administration of the educational institution the child attends, and the third represents the teacher.

While each of the legs are necessary to create a stable educational platform, they don't each bare an equal portion of the weight, and the portion that each leg will bare changes immensely in every situation.  However, given the ideal situation where each leg is supporting 100% of their own weight, I believe that 30% of the responsibility is born by the parents, 25% comes from the administration, and 45% comes from the teacher.

As I mentioned, these numbers will change greatly under various circumstances, but the point that I want to make here is that placing the sole responsibility of a child's education any single one of these "legs" will result in complete failure.  In fact, in any combination, it will take a minimum of two of the "legs" to provide an educational platform that could even provide a possibility for success.

Teach for America would have us believe that 100% of the responsibility lies on the shoulders of the teacher.  In my experience as a teacher thus far, I would beg to differ.

Even if you were the most incredible teacher of all time, completely capable of differentiating to the exact need of every single student, capable of meeting each various demand of your time - if the student only shows up to class 2 days out of the week because their parents are too scared to wake their child up early for school, or unable to drive them to school if they miss the buss, or incapable of providing any level of support for their child for whatever reason from home - even IF you were the most amazing teacher, there's nothing you can do about that!  You NEED at least some minimal level of support from the parents at home.

Now, you're probably thinking that not all children need the parents to motivate them for every little task like that.  Well, from what I have seen, that is true.  But it only happens with students whose parents at some level have instilled in them an innate desire to succeed and do well on their own.  Which once again, falls back onto the parents.  If the child has not received this type of encouragement/training at home, it's like Newton's first law says - a body in motion (or at rest, in this instance) will remain in that state unless acted upon by an external, unbalanced force.

Let's suppose for a moment now, that the student is showing up to school every day.  Surely then, the teacher can have a much greater effect in the classroom now, and the administration doesn't really have anything to do with it - and surely not 25%?  The direct effect of the administration is somewhat difficult to classify, but allow me to throw out a few situations.

A number of students are continually acting out in class.  They are not receiving any type of discipline from their parents at home, regardless of how many attempts have been made by the excellent teacher to contact them.  The teacher is sending home letters, making phone calls, attempting house visits and parent teacher conferences on weekends, but to no avail.  The child knows they won't be having any level of discipline from their parents, and they can essentially run hog wild.  Regardless of how good the teachers' classroom management is, an effective administration can help control these types of situations by providing alternatives so annoyingly uncomfortable for the student outside of the classroom that the student is left with two decisions - face the consequence of getting sent out of class (which they should learn to HATE) or modify their behavior to act in an acceptable manner in the classroom.

But a great administration is so much more than this - they ensure that teachers have the resources necessary for them to function in the classroom, that they have opportunity to communicate, coordinate, present a unified front, and consistent systems throughout the school to provide the rigor of instruction and consistency that is necessary for the students to succeed.  The administration ensures that each teacher is performing at a level consistent with their expectations, and that if they're not, they provide them with the additional direct support, instruction, and resources to increase their abilities to be in line with such.  The administration ensures that the school environment is one of safety, of optimism and the possibility of achievement.  The overall tone for the school is set by the administration, and in no way does this fall within the realm of control of the teacher.

Finally, just having a strong "stool" with all the parts in perfect shape doesn't guarantee success - it still needs to be sat on.  And ultimately that choice comes down to the students themselves.  However, as a child, the number of viable "sitting places" is truly limited, and so they'll have to make due with what they have at their disposal for the time being, and if the stool is strong, sturdy, and available, there really isn't anything that would deter them from wanting to sit on it.  In fact, when faced with the choice of standing or sitting, 99% of the time they'll take that seat, regardless of how dysfunctional the stool may be.

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Great Teachers - Singlehandedly closing
the achievement gap

Teacher for America panders to this egotistical, goal oriented, delusional, type A mindset by creating this image of a teacher, who, with the right amount of drive and motivation, can singlehandedly close the achievement gap.  And I'll be honest, to generate the publicity that they have received in the last few years, this is exactly the type of people they need to attract for their organization to succeed.  By advertising to this crowd, they have attracted the dreams of the ivy league and elite society hopefuls - a sense of scarcity has been instilled by the difficulty of getting in to the organization, which in turn creates a sense of prestige and privilege by those who actually do.  Joining the ranks of Teach for America feeds the desire to be unique, to stand out from the crowd and to differentiate oneself, and as long as they can continue to feed that image, I believe that having 10% of the graduating classes of the Ivy leagues applying for TFA is near the low end of what we'll see in coming years.

Don't get me wrong - I whole heartedly support the mission of Teach for America and am truly happy that so many non-educationally tracked people are getting in to education.  I believe in the cause that I have united myself to, but that doesn't mean that I have to agree with all of their philosophies and propaganda that they feed us.  I believe in the power of an incredible teacher - it's why I joined TFA in the first place.  I do everything in my power to help my kids succeed, and struggle to cope with the idea that that there are forces at play in my student's education that I have no control over.   But, I will not delude myself into thinking that I am the sole factor in my students education, and I'm telling you now, anyone who joins TFA without eventually coming to this realization has a lot of stress in store - I sure did.

Babysitting

Why do some days just feel like I'm a glorified baby sitter?  It's hard for me to fathom how similar 7th graders can act to 4 year olds.

They have toys that they play with, that distract and demand attention from other students.  So I take it from them, and they cry.

They throw paper at each other, pencils, crayons, they EAT the crayons, candy, and whatever other garbage they can find, including but not limited to hot chips, hot fries, and the bottles that are stuck in their mouths, filled with all varieties of sugared beverages.  They cry for attention, they scream when they don't get their way, they enter a classroom, and completely forget their reasons for being there.  These kids are 13?  Not from everything I've seen.

I can't stand days like today.  5 referrals before lunch.  A bunch of babysitting in every single class, as I go from squabble to squabble, taking toys, putting out fires, telling kids to keep all their chair's feet on the floor, and not to turn around to talk to their neighbor behind them.  No responses from the office because everyone who could come to my classroom is already out on call.  So what can I do?  Because no matter what I do, I can't get Jakia and Amari to SHUT UP about who's smarter - it's a discussion that just HAS to take place in the middle of class, that just HAS to be disruptive and HAS to demand the attention of every single student in the classroom, and then every single student HAS to give their two cents on the discussion.  The way I see it, they both have F's right now, so it seems like they should be discussing who has the higher F (Jakia, at 24%, btw).

You know that analogy about the crabs in a pot?  How if you put a bunch of crabs in the pot, and set it to boil, even though any crab on their own could climb out of the pot, none of them will actually get out because as soon as one of the crabs starts to get a good way up the side of the pot, the rest of the crabs will pull them back down in.  I don't know if it's true or not, but that's sure what class feels like some days.  It's so hard for me to help these kids try to succeed, because it seems that any time any single one of them starts to get a handle on things, they're attacked by the rest of the students and pulled down to maintain the status quo of failure.

In reality, things really aren't that bad.  But on days like today... man - I just wanna see that pot freaking boil.

First Newspaper, FINISHED

My newspaper staff finished their first newspaper.  Please go take a look at all their hard work, which can be seen on my school blog - mrwoahn.wordpress.com.  Thanks for your support!

The Unbreakable, Impossibly Powerful, Teacher's Unions

Today was just another ridiculous example of the many, many possible examples, of the long reaching, ridiculously powerful, yet inept arm of the Teacher's Unions.  Every Thursday, we have early out days at school.  As a kid, early out days were a God-send, since it meant that we had a few hours less of school and we could spend more time out being kids.  I never once thought about what the teachers were doing on early out days.  Now I know all to well.

Normally our school lets out at 4, but on early out day we're done at 1  (Strangely enough, despite the severely shortened class periods, these are often my most effective days).  Then, from 1-4 we're supposed to have Professional Development meetings (PD).  Every other week we have a school level PD, and on the off weeks we have district level PD's.  Now, the PD's in and of themselves are a completely different topic for me to write about, so I won't go in to length about how fabulously productive they are (imagine those last four words laced heavily with sarcasm), but district ones like today really get me going.

Last year our district spent some ~$4 million on a program called AEMP, which stands for Academic English Mastery Program.  This program was actually very interesting to me, for about the first 3-4 meetings that I attended.  But then after going to these first few meetings without actually producing anything or taking anything away that I could use in my classroom, it dawned on me that it was a colossal waste of time.  However, I was still required to attend every month.  So I just started taking my laptop and lesson planning for the entire meeting.  Time, un-wasted.  And then the year ended and I figured I was done with AEMP.

Wrong.  AEMP has made its way back onto the district payroll somehow, and today I had a big fat, three and a half hour chunk of my day wasted, literally hearing almost word-for-word the exact same presentation that I heard last year.  Now with the stage set, let's get back to the Union.  You might be asking yourself at this point "Jonathan, what in the world does this all have to do with the Union?"

Let's take a step back, and look at the entire situation.  At the end of the last academic school year, SFUSD had to make around $114 million in budget cuts over the next two years.  But somehow they found the money to re-fund AEMP, and I'm willing to bet that a portion of that money came from a proposition that was pushed through in San Francisco, called Proposition A.

Proposition A was a land parcel tax in the amount of $198 per taxable land property in San Francisco that was dedicated towards the school district to be used to develop higher skilled staff by means of district mandates, initiatives, professional developments, and aimed at attracting higher quality teachers by raising salaries, providing incentives to teach at designated "hard-to-staff" schools as well as "hard-to-staff" subjects.  Now, I can't really complain about this particular tax, because I am a direct beneficiary, teaching both a difficult subject at a nearly impossible school.  But that's beside the point, which is, that thanks to this wonderful tax getting pushed through, I was able to waste a good 3.5 hours of my life at a PD that I HAVE ALREADY HAD TO SIT THROUGH ONCE BEFORE!  And the tax was able to get pushed through in large part because of the lobbying that took place by.... you guessed it - the Union!  So if I go far enough back, I can place a large part of my misery today squarely on the shoulders of the Union.

So far as I can tell, the slight increase on my monthly paycheck is really the best, latest thing that I have to thank the Union for.  But, oh, wait a second - what's that?  That increase is going back to fund the Union via the MANDATED monthly dues?  Hmmmmmm.... does anyone see anything fishy about this situation?  The Union pushes through extra funding for teachers.... but then they know that teachers are mandated by the district to join the Union and pay not only a fixed monthly fee, but an additional 1.5% on any BONUS they may receive!  Like... PROPOSITION A FUNDING!  So essentially, by the Union backing Proposition A, and pushing it through to the voters - they essentially guaranteed a cool half a million in Union dues, annually, for as long as Proposition A remains in effect.  Well crafted!

BTW - I now know that the Union dues are mandatory, on good authority.  Here's a screen shot of an email I sent off to the district office last week:

So, here's a thought.  If Union dues are mandatory, and I can't get out of it, what's to stop the Union from saying "Well, $XXX per month is no longer sufficient to run our organization, let's make it $XXXXXXX per month (given that X is a variable that you can fill in with the digit of your choice)."  Now, I am sure there are some legal issues involved here, but the point I want to make is - their members CAN'T LEAVE!  Even if they want to, they can't!  I mean, if you are unhappy with your cellular service because they raise their fees, you leave!  If you can't pay the new rent amount of your apartment, you leave!  If your job starts paying you too much and all of a sudden you're in a new, higher tax bracket, you find ways to adjust your income and cheat the government into thinking you've made less due to tax write-offs and charitable donations to drop down to your previous tax bracket.  But no, not the Union.  You don't wanna pay the dues, well, I guess you get out of teaching.  But shouldn't you just be able to leave the Union?  They say two things are certain in life - death and taxes.  Beyond that, there's one thing certain in death, and that's that even in death, the Union will still be taking your dues.  Maybe not, I made that last part up, but to be totally honest, it wouldn't surprise me if there's some pension withdrawal fee that gets paid to the Union.

After having read my strongly worded arguments, I'm sure you're trying to puzzle out how the Unions even still exist, in spite of all the wrongs that I've enumerated.  Don't get me wrong - I truly feel that Unions played an integral role in bringing the public education system up to the level that it is today, and helped to level the playing field for teachers across the board as far as discriminatory policies go.  And before you go off scoffing about the "level that it is today", even though the United States ranks ~25th in the world for public education , maybe we'd be even further down on that list without the Unions.  A quick look on the Wikipedia page of the NEA (National Education Association - the nations largest professional organization) shows a fairly impressive list of accomplishments. However, their most recent, notable accomplishment really took place in 1984.  The last two on that list, notice the wording.  2000's - "lobbied for changes".  So in other words, nothing has yet been accomplished, but they've been working on it.  But I doubt there's an educator in America who would disagree that serious changes should be made to NCLB (That's what we in the industry called it.  Or so says Wikipedia).  And the last one doesn't make a lot of sense if you expand the acronym of NEA to say "National Education Association".  I'm not really certain what they mean in that last sentence, but I'm fairly certain that advocating equal treatment to same-sex couples is all the rage right now across the nation.  But it's good to see that the NEA has decided to jump on that train.

I would think that for having an operating budget in excess of $307 million, they'd have a bit bigger list of accomplishments.  Especially in the mysteriously quiet 25 years from 1984 to 2009....

To me, the evidence suggests that the age of the Teacher's Unions is over.  I will wholeheartedly agree that they had their time and place, but in the current age - change needs to happen.  WfS (Waiting for Superman, for those who didn't read my last post) places a lot of blame on the current state of education with the Unions, and while I don't think they're the only culprits, I do believe that the Unions need some enormous restructuring and to be cut down a few notches in power.  The Unions will bring their rebuttal with the fact that the #1 public education system in the world (Finland, of all places!) have their teachers Unionized.  Ok.  So what?  Obviously their Unions aren't standing in the way of progress the way that I really feel ours are in the current state.  But that's just my opinion.  Thoughts anyone?

See Superman, Waiting For

After grabbing a delicious chicken shawerma wrap at Truly Mediterranean, my roommate Danny and I caught a 7:40 showing of "Waiting for Superman" in downtown SF.  The subsequent 120 minutes of my life were a torrent of varied emotions that hit surprisingly close to home, and continued on to provoke the inquiry centers of my brain non-stop for the next 36 hours.

This movie has sparked a conversation in my mind, which I believe will turn into a series of blog entries centered around the same topic, mainly the numerous items presented in the movie and the various debates which it has sparked.  The long and short of it all is this:

Go see "Waiting for Superman".

There are so many criticisms about this film, and the greatest thing is that they aren't all black and white.  This isn't a two sided issue where people are for or against it - it's a multifaceted coin with rounded edges that is likely to flip at any moment.  There's the opinion of those for and against the union, those who are for and against public schools, of charter versus private versus public, of public reform and a million other issues, and any combination in between.  And since this is the case, the message of the film will continue to gain strength as it fulfills its true purpose - of sparking conversation on the public education system.

Having said that, I would like to talk about the movie itself a bit first, and hold off on addressing the individual debates for future blog posts.  "Waiting for Superman" (hereafter referred to as WfS) is a dramatically effective documentary that utilizes the lottery-entry based system of a few different charter schools for five students across the country to drive the message of the film.

When I say lottery, what I mean is that some of the highest achieving, public charter schools can only accept a specified number of students.  And due to the fact that since the schools are so high achieving, there are many more applications to attend that school than there are positions available.  So, since the charter school is a public school, they need to provide the same opportunity for all applicants, and thus enters the lottery - a system to provide equal probability to each applicant to the program.

If you were to take WfS at face value, you might think that it's these students lives that are at stake with the lottery.  And to be totally honest, if it were any of the students who were not actually at the lotteries, you wouldn't be far off.  What do I mean by this?  Well, I'll expound upon this further in an upcoming blog entry, but for now - know that every one of the students in this film have extremely supportive, concerned parents (or guardians).  They're concerned enough to put the research into the schools, to make the effort to apply, to get their child emotionally invested in their education, and help them to care about their futures.  This fact alone is probably sufficient to waive the death sentence that gets signed by some of these kids not getting into the schools.  (Combined now with the fact that they've been in this movie and touched the hearts of every person who goes to see it, they'll probably have their education paid for for the rest of their lives.)

It's the millions of students who were NOT at the lottery.  For any one of them, getting in to that charter school, or winning the lottery most likely WOULD be the difference between a successful future and the state penitentiary.  As I watched this movie, I could literally only think of two or three of my student's parents who would go through this type of effort to apply for a charter school.  And as I watched and read the jaw dropping statistics about the number of students who drop out of high school correlating with the number of them that end up in the state penitentiary, the names of my students flashed through my mind.  It absolutely PAINS me to think about it, but I could probably name off at least 8 of my students that will likely be facing jail time within the next 5-6 years.  The signs are all there...

But what can I do about it?  I bust my hide on a daily basis to provide the best education that my 13 months in the classroom can afford.  I play as large a role in these kids lives at school, as well as beyond the school yard that I can manage, I try to connect with them not only at an educational level, but at a personal level.  I take notice of their behaviors, I know their demeanors, I can tell when a student is behaving in a manner that isn't attune to their normal repertoire, I can sense when they're having a bad day, and I let them know that I love them daily, that I care for them.  And if they don't know this by now, it's because they're blind, deaf and dumb - I literally tell them this every day, and if actions don't speak louder than words, then by golly I don't know how to communicate.

Thus enters the title - "Waiting for Superman".  As a member of public education, it feels like we're waiting for Superman to come save the day.  Waiting for that one key public policy that will turn the tides, waiting for that one administrator who will flip the school upside down, waiting for that federal grant that will literally force feed education to my kids on a golden spoon.  However, if we sit around and wait for the education system to get fixed, we'll be waiting as long as we would be for Superman to clean up the Gulf from the BP oil spill.

Let's get the ball rolling on this.  TFA calls the educational achievement gap "our nation's greatest injustice".  I thought I knew what that meant, but after having seen this film and contemplated on the implications, I wholeheartedly believe it.  Be a part of the action, and go see WfS.


Stay tuned for the exciting, upcoming blog entries:

1.  Teacher's Unions, what are they good for?
2.  The Three Pillars of Education
3.  Charter Schools versus Public

State of the Union

I just got a letter in the mail today from the Union.  It's titled "Not Waiting for Superman".  As you may have heard, there is a movie out in theaters right now, a documentary, that more or less attacks the public schools system and the unions and places the blame for the failure of the public education system at the feet of the unions.  Now, I haven't seen the movie yet so I can't say one thing for or against it - but I'm going to see it this Friday with my roommate, and I'm stoked.

They say the truth hurts.  I'm guessing the Union President, the same man who wrote the letter to me, was writhing in agony as he saw the movie.

May the Union go down in a ball of flames.  I can't stand it.  Not only have I paid over $400 in Union dues over the last year for an organization that I can't personally endorse, nor do I morally support, but I just realized that I was paying less than 1/2 of full member fees.  Turns out that since I was an "intern" last year, I didn't have to pay the full fee, but now that I'm no longer an intern, I get to pay the full fee for full membership.

What in the world am I paying for?  Due to the Union and their increased fees this year, as a credentialed teacher I am making LESS this year than last year, all to support an organization that I don't want to be a part of.

Woes of the Union.  For starters, when I was hired in to SFUSD, they required me to sign the paperwork to join the Union or to pay something like 8% of my paycheck to the charity of my choice.  Granted, I haven't checked in to see if tithing would count towards that, but it would seem to me that the Union has fitted itself into a tidy little, self sustaining position where it REQUIRES every single employee of a state organization to pay a good portion of their paycheck to it.  Sounds almost as great as having a job where you can essentially obtain job security for life after only two years of service, regardless of your performance.  Did somebody say  tenure?

Even more, I'm required to pay 1.5% of any BONUSES (yes, strangely enough, I do get certain bonuses) I may receive to the Union.  Where's Superman when you need him?

Premonitions of Parenting

My baseball team has two games every week - on Tuesday's and Thursday's.  And then we have practice on Monday and Wednesday.  On Wednesday of this week, Drew Serratore, the new IRF (Instructional Reform Facilitator) at our school came down to the baseball field to check out the team.  It's the first time he's ever come down and seen our kids play.

Drew happens to be TFA '05, and has proven to be a great friend at work.  He's definitely no substitute for Scott, Sylvia and Mash from last year, but between Drew and Katey, my school support network is in place.  Anyhow, Drew came down while our kids were right in the middle of playing a game called "Coaches vs. Students".  The original idea for the game was that we'd split the students up into three teams: one team played outfield, one team played infield, and the other team would be up to bat.  The idea was that I would pitch full time, and Mr. Young would play catcher.  Unfortunately, it turns out that pitching up close at half speed is really difficult, especially if you haven't pitched for over 10 years, so I ended up walking a lot of kids, or when I was throwing strikes - they just never swung at them.  So I had one of the students pitch.

I'm going to call the student I called in to pitch Lewis.  Lewis is currently in my 7th grade math class, and I also taught him last year.  He is a bright young man, but he has the attention span of a flea.  There have been days where I pull in Lewis after class to follow up with him on some lesson that I don't feel like he fully comprehended, and even when it's just he and I in the classroom, he'll look me in the eye for about 5 seconds before I see his eyes begin to wander.  When we're in class, I'll have to call Lewis' name about 10 times before it seems to register in his brain that I am talking to him.  The point here is, that I think that Lewis has learned to completely tune my voice out.  

The first practice that Lewis expressed interest in pitching, I pulled him aside and we talked about a couple fundamental best practices for pitching.  Very simple things like push off with your legs, or lift your leg up to help build forward momentum, or drop your arm so you aren't throwing from the elbow.  Things like the different from throwing from the stretch and from the windup.  And so I practiced with him, we worked on these things, and I continually reminded him when he'd be throwing in a game when to throw from the stretch and when to throw from the windup.  

But just as in class, Lewis just didn't seem to retain any of the information I told him.  In our game on Tuesday, Lewis pitched the entire time, but he never once correctly identified the situations when he should be throwing from the windup or the stretch, even when I would YELL AT HIM TO THROW FROM THE STRETCH SO THE RUNNERS DON'T STEAL!  But he'd still go from the windup.  The umpire commented to me that this kid needs to learn to throw from the stretch, and I tell him that I've worked with him on it.  Many, many, many times.  But I decide it's worth talking to him AGAIN since the runners are just trampling him, and so I walk out to him on the mound and show him yet once again, what I mean when I say to throw from the stretch.  He looks at me with his wandering eyes, and I ask him if he gets it now, he says yes, I walk back to the dugout, and then he proceeds to throw from the windup.  It just feels like nothing sticks with this kid.

Back to Wednesday.  Lewis is on the mound pitching, and there are runners on the bases.  At this point, we've been playing baseball now for something like 4 or 5 weeks, and I'm just tired of telling him things that he doesn't listen to me about - like throwing from the stretch or dropping his arm when he throws.  Drew shows up to practice, and I notice him talking with Lewis in between innings as we're having the teams move around the field, and demonstrating a couple stances.  The next inning, I see Lewis throwing from the stretch when runners get on the bases, and I notice him more and more dropping his arm as he pitches.  Ok....

After practice is over, Lewis runs up to the other coach, Mr. Young and I overhear him say "Mr. Young!  Mr. Serratore (Drew) today showed me a couple new things that I noticed made a HUGE difference in my pitching!  He showed me how to throw from a stretch when runners are on the bases, and he told me that if I drop my arm when I pitch it'll help me throw the ball faster!  And I did it today and it really worked!"

In my head, I'm as furious as fire.  I want to scream at Lewis and ask him if he has even heard a single thing I've said to him this year - not only on the baseball field, but in class.  But I keep my cool, and mumble to Mr. Young "This most definitely is NOT new to him...." and so Mr. Young says to Lewis "Are you sure this is new?  Is this really the first time you've heard this?" 

Lewis stops for a moment, his eyes narrow, and then he gets this foolish grin on his face and says "Oh yeah... I guess I remember Mr. Woahn saying something about this a couple weeks ago."  

This must be what it's like to have children.  You tell a kid something a million times, but you're just "Dumb 'ol mom/dad".  But as soon as an AUTHORITY figure says something, well then, it must be LAW!  Good grief. Any insight as to why that is?

Numbers and Stuff

I went to Office Depot this week to pick up an ink cartridge for my printer.  My printer is an HP Photosmart Plus, which I've had for over a year now.  It's been a decent printer, but it always blows my mind at how quickly the ink runs out.  It seems that I print about 100 pages (in black and white, mostly) and it starts to tell me that I'm  out of ink.  In all the colors.  I have no idea how the magenta runs out on black and white, but that's another story.

When I get to Office Depot, I realize I'd forgotten to get the model number for the ink cartridge I needed, so I looked around the store, and found my printer on the floor.  I opened it up, and saw this cartridge. Now, any sensible, rational, reasonable, semi-intelligent person would look at this cartridge and think "Oh, I need to get model 564." and then go purchase it at the counter.

So I go to the ink section, and found this pack.  Now, I'm no whiz with numbers, but so far as I can tell, the numbers for these two ink cartridges match up - and when things match up, I usually take that at face value and run with it.  I purchase it at the counter (with the accompanied color cartridges as well, sold separately) and head back to the apartment.  As soon as I get back, I rip the box open and go to install the cartridge, where much to my surprise, I find that it doesn't fit!  So I double check the numbers, look back at the box, and that's when I see this on the box of the new black cartridge I just purchased.

In case you can't see it (the picture is a little blurry) it says "Not for use in HP PHOTOSMART PLUS printers", which is the printer that I have.  You have GOT to be kidding me!?  What in the world is this all about?  Who was the idiot who designed this organizational structure!  What this tells me is that although my printer uses the 564 ink cartridge, I didn't get the RIGHT ink cartridge.  

I have a really simple solution to this situation, that I personally think is quite brilliant.  If this is an ink cartridge that doesn't work with the HP Photosmart Plus printers, which actually use 564 cartridges, GIVE IT A DIFFERENT NUMBER!!!  

As if inkjet printer ink isn't expensive enough, now they've got to go and confuse the heck out of the customer base, and dupe us into purchasing ink cartridges that don't actually work for the printers that we thought we had.  I suppose one could ultimately say that this was my fault for not catching the smaller writing below the HUGE "564" that says it didn't work with my printer, but honestly, who reads the fine print anyhow?

I hope I have the receipt somewhere...

On an unrelated note, in one of my technical elective classes, I'm teaching my students how to start a blog.  I have created a new blog that I will be using explicitly for that class, and I will use it to post the videos, pictures, and whatnot of things that happen in that class.  It can be found at http://mrwoahn.wordpress.com.   I will also eventually have links from that link to my students blogs, so you can get a look into their lives.  The class has five girls and one boy, and they all expressed interest in learning about desktop publishing.  So we're starting with creating blogs for them, and then I'm going to use the blog to have them actually post the things that they create - whether they're photos, stories, pictures, artwork, presentations, etc. 

In the other period of technical elective that I teach, we have a lot more physics, science, and engineering taking place.  I'll use the blog to post videos and pictures of things that I do with them as well, however, those students won't be creating blogs.  I just don't see it as something that they'd be interested in pursuing.  The classes have a VERY different dynamic, and it's a lot of fun to work with.  

I've made the conscious decision to not show my students this blog, with the express purpose that word of its existence might spread to certain sources that I would prefer to maintain ignorant.  That would severely limit my ability to write honestly about things that happen at school, and truly - who wants that?

A Paradigm Shift

I just finished going for a run.  About the same time that I finished, there was another guy who was finishing up as well.  As soon as he got to the curb, he pulled out a cigarette, lit up, and started smoking.  Something felt amiss.

This week, I had a similar experience where afterwards, something felt amiss.  A little background first.  Almost exactly a year ago, I had just finished teaching one of my 7th grade classes, and that the lesson had gone horrendously, as they all had up to that point.  Nothing new.

As the class was leaving, one of the few students who weren't acting out, who paid attention and actually tried to participate amidst all of the madness, and turned out to be one of my stellar students that year, made a comment on his way out the door that I continued to think about for the rest of the  school year.  He said "Mr. Woahn, you deserve a better school than this."

And I truly felt that I did.  I thought about that comment over and over and over, and I honestly believed it - I thought "I'm an awesome teacher, and these students just don't care.  They will never see that... I really do deserve a better school."  And so many times throughout all the rest of the year after there would be lessons that I'd put TONS of thought and effort and preparation in to, and I just hoped that there were students that recognized that effort.  And maybe they could empathize with my situation, and realize how hard I tried.

Back to the present.  The ELA teacher quit this week, and as such, there was a substitute who has been coming in this week to cover the class until they find a full time replacement.  After school on his way out one day, he stopped by and told me about the horrible day he'd had.  He told me about how students had been talking back to him, cussing at him, throwing things at him, running around the classroom and fighting, and pretty much exhibiting standard behavior at my school.  So I told him I'd stop by the next day during my Prep Period.

The next day during my Prep Period, I arrived in his classroom, and noted that it was my little 7th graders.  They weren't doing anything horrendous, like I could imagine the 8th graders (7th graders from last year) doing, but the teacher was nonetheless having a tough time with them.  So I just walked around the classroom, helped convey instruction and get some of the students working on what the teacher had planned for them to do.

As I knelt down by the side of one of the students desk, I looked around the room at all of my students doing their various activities in class, looked up at the substitute, the complete disorganization of the classroom, and considered the events of the coming weeks.  At some point, they're going to have a new ELA teacher.  And when that teacher arrives, my my students will have to go through the new stress of starting a "new" class, getting to know a "new" teacher, and just basically start from square one.

It was at this point I recalled my experience from the last year, but this time I thought "These kids deserve a better school than this."

And truly, they do.  They're great kids, regardless of how reckless, chaotic, and hectic they may act at times.  They do the best they can in the environment they've been brought up in, and if I can help to improve that environment at all - I'll do it.

On Top of My Game

It's week three of school.  I just finished a 2.5 hour planning session, but now I am currently totally planned out up to next Friday.  That's 10 days from now.  Sure, I might have some minor changes to make before then, like coming up with a solid way to present the new lesson on finding the Least Common Denominator next Wednesday, but that's a week away - future Jonathan can deal with that.

I have my assessments written up to that point, I have my daily plan laid out up to Christmas, my grading system this year has been phenomenal, my students are starting to get the flow of my class down, they have been acing their exit slips, and homework turn in has been hovering at 50+%.  Not amazing, but a FAR CRY away from the ~0.1% I had at this point last year.

Today my Technical Elective classes started.  My students are stoked, as am I, to the potential of these classes.  There are no boundaries for the class, and we can literally discuss any topic that they want to in the class.  Since I have two, I'm going to have one that is focused on the Newspaper, and the other will be focused on the Yearbook.  I have pledged support from the administration in these areas, and I believe the necessary funding will come through to make them happen.  I'm so excited for these technical elective classes - they are such an unloaded burden from the State Standards based math classes - a true break in my day.  And the kids were SO excited to come in to my class today and get started, it truly was energizing.

Did I mention that I'm coaching the baseball team?  Three hours, every day after school until about the end of September.  Granted, the majority of the kids have never picked up a bat or ball before, but it's still been a lot of fun.  Sure, it's frustrating at times, but the best part about this frustration is that now when they get on my nerves, I just start them running.  It's somewhat gratifying.  Our first game is on Thursday, and we are definitely not ready.  Although to be fair, I think even if our first game was next March, I still don't think we'd be ready. Yes, we have that far to go.

And my credentialing?  It's done!  I have no classes during the week that I'm required to go to, no 1.5 hour drives across the bay Bridge to Oakland just to spend 3 hours sitting in a classroom before coming back to San Francisco, having wasted a good 5-6 hours of my night.  No worthless, mindless paperwork to write, regurgitating the most pointless drivel to fill up 30-40 pages of TPA goodness.  I am so glad that is done.

People keep asking my how this year compares to last.  Truly, there is NO comparison - they just aren't even in the same league.  This status is most definitely subject to change, but I'm really feeling on top of my game right now.

Beyond the Surface

This week has been great.  Great in the sense that I have literally only had to teach two periods, and then the other two are my support classes where I adjust my lesson as necessary and don't really prepare anything.  But the other two periods I'm supposed to have a class?  Remember the insanity of Monday?  Well, they got my schedule figured out, and I'm supposed to start teaching two technology classes.  However, the classes won't actually get populated until next Tuesday, and since it's an elective, only the students I want to be in there, will be.  So I've essentially had two bonus periods with nothing to do all week in addition to my regular prep period.  I've loved it.

In my time without classes, I've taken to writing a couple blog posts (note the time stamp on this one), as well as do some things around the school.  Like visit the new teachers, check in with them to see how they're doing, see what they need in order to help them feel effective, and offer support where I can.  And I have absolutely loved it, I've loved being able to see my students in other classes, to talk with them, get a feel for the class, help clarify issues that they might be having in the class, and I've loved getting a feel for the other teachers. 

We have a lot of new teachers here, and they're each experiencing various levels of success.  But what's even more amazing to me is to realize how much I have grown in my own teaching abilities after just a year of teaching.  I can walk into their classrooms and quickly see things that are effective, things that could be improved, and areas for growth in instruction and clarification.  After one year... Last year at this time I was hanging on to dear life by the skin of my teeth.

In addition to having spent a lot of time observing other teachers, spending time with my kids has really enabled me to see how much I have come to love and respect them over the last year.  Yeah, this is kind of mushy, but it's so true.  I see some of these new teachers in the same shoes I was in last year, getting frustrated with the students, with the class, and with themselves, and I see how they treat the students, and recognize that they're doing so out of sheer frustration, and not individual rancor.  And I feel that I can often look back to the situation to realize the root of the conflict between the teacher and the student, and feel it a lot more from the eyes of the student. 

Granted, I have about 203979872352596781 issues that I'm still trying to tackle in my own classroom and things are far from perfect, but it truly is enlightening to be able to see that there is so much going on beyond the surface here with these kids here in this largely dysfunctional environment.  They really do grow on you.

A Caring Administration

I just spoke with one of the administrators at my school.  I could tell she was a little preoccupied on something, since she was walking swiftly and had this look of grim determination on her face.  I didn't want to take long, so I caught up to her and said said "Hey, I have a quick question for you..."

And before I could get another word out of my mouth, she said "Nope.  I don't have time right now."

Awesome, just awesome.  What a great work environment.

Conflict of Schedule

Last Friday, I caught wind of a possible change in the schedule for the coming week.  There were words thrown around like "4 computer lab classes" and "possible elective courses" when discussing what my schedule was going to be like.  But nothing was ever solidified, and I left Friday without a clue what was going to happen with my own schedule come Monday.

Evidently, so did everyone else.

We got to school today, and in good 'ol WB fashion, there was awesome pandemonium as the students all attempted to figure out what their schedules were for the day.  No one had any clue, including many of the students who, for some reason had two 3rd period classes, and two 5th period classes.  I just shrugged my shoulders and rolled with the punches.  The version of me a year ago in this situation would have been pulling his hair out with anticipation.  The version of me today, well, he just figured he'd make it work.

Turns out, my classes had only been "scheduled" in the loosest sense of the word, and I ended up not even having a 4th and 5th period today.  I didn't complain.

What I did do, however, was head down to the counseling center, and offer my services to help fix the master schedule.  The counseling center was pretty chaotic, and I know that they hadn't had a chance to even think about the schedule due to the innumerable crisis that they are continually having to address.  My offer was appreciated, but apparently dismissed.

Until about 20 minutes later when I got the call.  I was up.  So I went to the center, asked some questions for about 15 minutes, and then headed back to my room to get things straightened out.  Approximately 45 minutes later, I took back a fully functional, fixed master schedule.  I don't know if it'll be used, but I'll find out tomorrow.

Just another day at the WB.

Day Two

Today was Day Two of the new school year.  Guess what the most extraordinary thing has been thus far?  The fact that nothing crazy has happened!  I can hardly believe it - my classroom isn't the epitome of perfection, but when you compare where I am this year on Day Two with where I was last year - well, the comparisons aren't even close!

On another note, we had our second "casualty" for the school year thus far.  I heard that one of the teachers yesterday had a really rough time with a couple of the classes, and I guess it was just too much for her, and she didn't come back.  It pains my heart to know that my students can act in such a manner, but honestly after I heard about the things that happened in her classroom - it's EXACTLY where I was last year after Day One.

If I have anything to say about Teach For America, that is definitely one thing that comes from its members - a desire to persist!  If I hadn't made that two year commitment to stick it though, I probably would have quit last year after my first day as well.  Anyhow, I'll keep my eyes peeled as I wait for the other shoe to drop.  Maybe it won't, but surely that's just wishful thinking...

New School Year's Eve

10 hours and counting.  Wish me luck.

And so it begins

7 days.  And counting.  I can't even begin to fathom how quickly this summer has gone.  Tomorrow I'll be back in the classroom, but I won't be teaching.  Not yet.  But soon, how time will fly.  And all that I have to say right now to you, my readers, is buckle up!  Get pumped for the incredible tales of excitement, disbelief, amazement, and adventure that I will be posting on a semi-daily basis - straight from my 6/7 grade math classroom.

So, subscribe to my blog, or bookmark it using any of the available URL's (thetfablog.com, theteachforamericablog.com, or still at jonathan.woahn.com, although I can't say for how long that one will be there), curl up with a nice hot beverage, hit the refresh key often, and prepare to be blown away.  I know I am, I can hardly wait.

Interesting side note - the lady in the stock picture above looks kind of like Wendy Kopp, the founder of TFA, to the right.  I think it's pretty similar to what her face would look like after reading my blog.  I'd summarize her expression as "incredulous endearment".  You?

The End is Here!

School's out.  By some incredible grace of the Almighty, I made it through my first year.  And to celebrate, I'm changing the format of my blog.  I really like this equation in the background, it reminds that at one point in my life I was actually doing some awesome math.  It seems a little distracting though, so let me know what you think..  It's still in flux...

The last week of my life was spent decompressing in Lake Powell with my family.  It was a week that I have been looking forward to since I was first invited to Powell, which I think was back in January or February.  I cannot possibly conceive of two more opposite environments than a classroom at my school, and staying on a houseboat at Lake Powell.  There were literally days during the week that I didn't look at a clock once, which was a huge contrast compared with the classroom environment, where I was literally checking my watch every 5 minutes or less.  I opened every single day not having a single thing that I expected or was expected to accomplish.  The demands of my time/attention were absolutely minimal, and the hardest decision I think I faced the entire week was whether I wanted to go wake boarding or finish reading a book I had.  Literally.  And if there is a better way to recover from the most grueling experience of my entire life, I don't want to hear about it because for me - this was heaven.

There are a number of blog entries forthcoming in the next few days, including, but not limited to my reflections from the year, highlights, takeaways, and my plans for the upcoming school year.  However, I wanted to dedicate this blog entry to one of the last epic, dysfunctional failures at my school to top off the school year.

Evidently our school has a tradition of having an end-of-the-year picnic.  People started talking about the picnic back in December, and was continually reaffirmed via various comments from other faculty members and administrators about the picnic the last week of school.  A week or two before the end of the school year, I find out that the picnic is going to be on Tuesday of the last week.  And that, my friends, was as much information as was conveyed to me about the picnic.

Have you ever planned a large event for groups of people?  I want you to take a moment and consider the essential information that is needed when planning an event.

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Now that you've had a moment to consider to think about it, allow me to share my thoughts.  In my mind, the essential information that you need to tell people is 1. When (not just the date, but the time as well) 2. Where 3. What (what is happening/what can I bring?) 4. Who and 5. How (as in "How are we going to get all 200 of our students to the picnic since it's at some undisclosed-location-that-is-not-at-our-school").  Does any of this seem irrational or out of place?  Am I missing anything here?

Now that I have outlined these thoughts, allow me to paint the picture of what happened.  Tuesday morning, I show up at school.  I know that we have the picnic, but I don't know what time we are supposed to be there.  And come to think of it, I had no idea where "there" was.  Someone had said that it was near Candlestick Field.  Since I'm from the area, I know exactly the park that was mentioned, and so I'm not worried about this at all, especially since I figured that the transportation method that was arranged would get us to wherever we needed to go.  We start homeroom for the day, and I'm hopefully assuming that during homeroom, which is the time we usually get our announcements, someone will kindly inform me of the details of this picnic that is supposedly taking place today.  Homeroom ends, and I'm no further enlightened than when I started the period.  So I send my students to first period.

Since it's Tuesday, the periods are shorter and I only have my kids for about 35 minutes.  I hadn't planned a lesson or anything since I figured that the picnic would last all day, so I improvise (I've gotten much better at this since working at my school).  Throughout the entire period, my students are continually asking me when we're leaving for the picnic, and I maintain my standard response - as soon as they release us.  The period ends, and I still haven't received any word as to what will be happening so I send my kids off to second period.  This is my prep period and I decide to do a little investigating and see what information I can scrounge up.

I stop by the office to see our secretary, Chris, and ask her if she knows what time we are supposed to leave for the park, how we're going to get there, and where exactly it is I'm going.   Unfortunately, Chris has been about as informed as I have, but she does have the benefit of being able to monitor the movement of staff/students/administrators in and out of the building, and she tells me that a number of the administrators have already left.  I'm slightly confused, and so I ask Chris how they got over there.  She told me they drove their cars, and so I ask her what I'm' supposed to do.  She told me that I needed to figure that out, and I needed to take my homeroom students with me.

Thanks for the heads up admin!  So, in case this isn't a clear picture yet - let me clarify the current situation.  I am supposed to get all of my homeroom students to a picnic that is taking place at some park in the vicinity of Candlestick Field, which is approximately 1.5 miles from my school, at SOME TIME TODAY.

Does anyone else see anything completely WRONG with this situation?  That's because there are a plethora of issues about this, but to be completely honest - I can't say that I'm surprised.  This is the exact type of circumstance that I have come to expect from my school.  This is just how we roll at my school.  Time to formulate a plan of action.

I hustle down to Masharika's classroom, and ask her what her plan is.  She tells me that she was just planning on walking to the park with her homeroom as soon as second period is over.  I tell her that sounds great, and ask if we can tag along.  Of course she says yes, because Masharika is just awesome like that, and I'm feeling much better about life at this point.

Second period ends, I intercept all of my homeroom students, and tell them that we are now leaving.  Once I get a visual on all of my students, I meet up with Masharika in the front of the school, and we head out.  The reason that I say "a visual" on my students is because I communicated to them that we were leaving and that they needed to come with me, but in the mass chaos that ensues between classes, trying to gather them all together would have been akin to trying to strain weavils from what.  Just not really worth the time...

Like a herd of cats, we're off to the picnic, me, Masharika, and 16 of our 6th grade students, walking down Silver Avenue.  This isn't the first time that we have conducted a walking field trip, and once you get comfortable with how incredibly independent these kids are, and that although it may seem at every turn like they're all about to run screaming into the middle of the street at any given moment, they won't, and you're set.  Actually, I was very impressed with our little crew - they ran around, they teased each other, played tag, jumped up to touch every hanging tree or street sign, a small group adopted a turtles pace and lagged far behind the main body, but overall, they were very responsive to Masharika and I.  They waited at every street corner like we asked them before crossing, they remained on the same side of the street that we were on, and some of them stayed near by and played games like "20 questions" and "Eye Spy".  It was a perfect example of riding the organized chaos that I have come to master over my year at my school.

About 30 minutes later, we were getting off the MUNI train that runs down Third Street.  The road we got off on was the road that would lead us to the park where the picnic was.  As we were walking down this street, I started seeing a number of the faculty members of my school driving down the road, waving as they passed by.  Sometimes they'd have 3 or 4 students in the car with them, but a number of them didn't have any students at all.  I recall passing a fleeting thought of "Strange, I wonder where all of their students are?..." but failed to give it further attention.  The thought was gone.

We finally arrived at the park.  At the final head count, we were only missing 4 students.  I jokingly mentioned that only losing 25% of our students was within my range of acceptable losses - anything over 30% and we'd probably have to go back and look for them.  It turned out that 1 of them had been picked up by his Grandmother, and the other three had been in the turtle group and been picked up by one of the other faculty members.

There were probably a million other things that I could write about concerning this event, but for fear of making this mammoth entry last until the next ice age, there is just one more thing that I wanted to touch on to share the ridiculousness of this entire situation that so perfectly encapsulates my year at my school.

About 45 minutes after Masharika and I arrived at the park, Sylvia comes storming in, cussing like a sailor and obviously upset.  I mean, she was seriously radiating fury.  Now, Sylvia is usually one of the happiest, most genuinely fun people that I've met in my life, but in that moment, she was wrath incarnate.   I was almost afraid to ask her what happened, but I really couldn't just let it pass, so I did and she spewed forth her story.

Due to the fanatical planning that went into this event, Sylvia had no idea what time she was supposed to leave for the field trip.  So she just kept going through the periods like the champion that she is, waiting for some kind of announcement to release us.  Well, it wasn't until about 1/2 way through third period that students started showing up at her door (during class) asking her what was going on with the picnic, and telling her that none of their teachers were in class.  It just so happened that in that moment, the only other adult in the school was Chris, the secretary in the front office.  So Sylvia was the last teacher in the school, with 46 students.

46.  That is literally the ENTIRE 7th grade class.  So Sylvia, by herself, drove her herd of students to the picnic.  And when I say "drove", I don't mean in her car, or in a bus, or any other type of mass transportation, I mean it in the sense like a cowboy drives home the cattle, or a shepherd drives his sheep.  I honestly don't know if any other teacher in the school could have done it - Sylvia commands the respect of the 7th graders like no other adult in the school.  But even still, she was left with the monumental task of making sure all 46 of those students arrived, in tact and unharmed.

I would have loved to see how she did it.  I can only imagine, and thank the heavens that it didn't happen to me, but it would have been quite the feat to see.  And what a way to wrap up the school year - a fantastic memory for me to hold onto over the summer, and anticipate for next year.

Dysfunctional failure?  Perhaps.  Can I wait to see what next year holds in store for me?  Hardly.  All I know is that it's going to be epic.