The pay is low, the pressure is high, and we are all expendable

It seems like with every progressing year, professional educators become increasingly less respected.  Sure, pay has come up during the past 10 years to reasonable levels for entry teachers, but after that increases occur at a snail's pace.  A teacher with 30 years of experience might indeed make no more than 40-50% more than a teacher with 0 years of experience.  Mid-level administrators make a percentage more than teachers, but when all days and hours of mandatory work hours are counted, it's not much more.  At my school there are at least a dozen teachers who make more than me and they get 2.5 months off in the summer.  I don't begrudge them that, but my point is that the pay is pretty low for management, much as the pay for experienced teachers is still too low to expect to recruit the best and brightest from America's universities. 

There are teachers, I like to think those such as myself when I was in the classroom, who do it because they love it.  I gave up a lucrative career in another field and resigned on good terms with a quality employer to become a teacher.  Others have done similarly or simply went to college passionate about education and continued that passion in their work. 

On the other hand, there are those who came into education because of convenience, last ditch efforts, or because someone told them it was great having summers off.  Still more came because they were laid off from their previous job and this seemed like something stable.  If that ever were true, it no longer is.  Now, educators are expendable in the eyes of society.

Today, all of us educators are expendable.  This is evidenced by:

• "Accountability" systems which focus on firing people whose standardized test data indicates their "ineffectiveness," while measuring every child in America by the same yardstick, regardless of situation.  That's it, let's just fire all the teachers.  I'm sure hiring those new uncertified schmucks who worked as car salesmen or chemical engineers for 15 years will do what the experienced and trained professionals could not do to the government's satisfaction.
• The first thing out of people's mouths when a school isn't doing well is "Well, they should fire [insert staff member such as teacher/principal] because they just cannot cut the mustard!"  Yeah, why don't we bring the CEO of a company into the classroom and see how he or she does in a classroom.  I've seen many an educated professional eaten alive by a room full of high-school students.
  
• The mass media, which only covers teachers who have done something stupid.  After all, if you only watched the mainstream news, you'd assume that all teachers/principals are child-molesting, drug-dealing slugs who do nothing but suck off the tax-payer's teet and ruin a generation of kids.
  
• School board actions/statements.  Because clearly if we want to recruit high-quality teachers, let's assault them right up front with the plan for how we will fire them if they don't make the grade.  As we know, that's a great way to hire the best and brightest... with threats!  Last time I worked for a company, it seemed like the best way to hire the best and brightest is to make your company MORE appealing than the others, not less.  I'm confused by school board/superintendent attitudes.
  
• Legislation, such as No Child Left Behind (which should be more accurately named No Child and No School Gets Ahead).  Soon NCLB will require 100% of school children to meet all academic testing standards (which in and of themselves are moving targets that go UP annually).  That's not hyperbole.  Read the legislation.  The Feds will have to sanction every public school in the United States if this isn't fixed.
  
• As soon as a school is in trouble academically, the first response from the government is to cut funds and fire people.  Has that EVER worked?  Bring in new staff who are by-and-large less experienced and less qualified (and unproven) and then cut funds.  Genius.  Shouldn't we be doing the opposite?  Paying experienced and proven people to come in from other, more successful campuses to help out? What about professionals who have proven their ability to turn other campuses around and work with difficult populations?  No, let's just fire everybody and hope we'll find something better to replace them with.  Yeah, that's worked out so far, eh?
  
• Ultimately, no matter how hard you work, if your kids don't make the grade (as arbitrarily determined each year by the state through a statistical model that no human could possibly comprehend), you could face the axe, which is accompanied by a negative stamp on your career record.  Again, how does this encourage quality, highly-qualified and motivated teachers to go work at a school who is in academic trouble?  

Yes, we are expendable.  The pressure is tremendous and the pay, while not bad for those fresh out of college, is often not competitive with highly-experienced, highly-educated professionals in other fields of work.  Every day we face new challenges and new mandates made by people who have never set foot on our campus and most of whom haven't been in a classroom since the middle of the 20th century. 

You know who I'm talking about.  You may be one of them.  If you judge how teaching and/or school should be by your experience as a student when you were a child/adolescent, then you are part of the problem.  It's 2010.  It's not 1950, 1975 or even 1999.  The world has changed, kids have changed and despite what the media would have you believe, the standards for graduation and testing have gone up tremendously.  The test you passed in 1975 or 1999 wouldn't get you to a diploma in 2010.  Teaching methods employed in 1980 would get you eaten alive in 2010 (and would also utterly fail to have any academic result).  It's a new world.  In this one, teachers aren't respected, they are expendable.  Principals aren't looked to for leadership, they are seen as enemies, looking for teachers to do something wrong.  All are subject to the chopping block when the pile of statistical test result data comes back.

So why do we do this job?  Why put up with the disrespect and belittlement?  We do it for the kids. We have to.  We do it because we love it.  As long as we keep reminding ourselves of that, we can at least look past the red tape and asinine legislation long enough to know that the result of our work is changed lives, while the results of that cubicle worker who crunches numbers all day are just more profit for corporate greed and the almighty stock-holder.  I'll continue to let that passion motivate my work.  I'll toss the TPS reports aside and get to the real work at hand: the kids.

Sometimes the worst turns out to be the truth

A little over a month ago I posted about one of the "good kids" at my school whose mother was brutally murdered. READ HERE I was torn at the time about how to feel about it.  Sorrow and empathy for the young man whose mother was the victim of a random violent crime, or horror that he might have done it and that it was quite the opposite of random.  My worst nightmare has come true.

Although the intent of this blog is to express my feelings without revealing my geographic location, name, and especially no identifying information about any student or my school, this story has now become national news.  I will continue to blog here on this personal forum, because it is my right to do so. I will not, however, confirm any information about my identity, my school and especially no information about students.

I have used the alias "Ahmed" to refer to the student whose mother was murdered.  As it turns out, Ahmed is responsible for the murder.  He was arrested this past week in what has become a very public murder case.  Not only because of the horror of murdering one's own mother, but because, as it turns out, he paid a classmate to commit the crime.  The murderer in this case was another student from my school.  Fortunately, a student I'm not well-acquainted with, but that doesn't make it any less gruesome.

The revelation of this information was initially rather anticlimactic for me.  In many ways I had mentally prepared myself that Ahmed might have done it.  I wasn't really prepared for all of the facts that have been unraveling throughout the past week.  (note: all of the follow facts are public knowledge that has appeared on TV and print media, I'm not revealing any confidential information)

The murder was committed for-hire for a paltry sum of money.  The victim was stabbed dozens of times.  Following the murder, Ahmed returned to campus and very nonchalantly walked the halls, joked with friends, posted on Facebook, texted friends on his cell, and behaved as if it were any normal day.  The case was only cracked when the hired killer made the mistake of committing a drug offense and was taken into custody for this offense.  At this point, various puzzle pieces began to come together for the police.

As the week progressed and the student body got word of what happened, sorrow, anger and other strong feelings came over many students.  We provided counseling services to students and teachers who had contact with the two young men, the murderers.

Finally, I think sometime on Thursday evening, it really hit me what a betrayal that this was.  How could someone that I trusted do something so horrible?  By no means did I know him extremely well, but I knew him well enough to have made at least a moderate character judgment based on my interactions as well as the experiences of others who had known him for many, many years.

In my initial post, I stated that if it turned out to be true that Ahmed committed this heinous crime, that I would question my ability to judge character.  That's exactly what has happened, but the net result of that is still unknown for me.  People always say things like "ya never know..." when it comes to situations like this.  In the future, I hope to know better and to know that my first instincts are most definitely not above questioning.

I'm ready for this to be a closed chapter, but I feel that it's a long way from that.  I'm sure that the trial will be months or years away and that no matter how much I'd like it to be a part of the distant past, that this case has changed and modified the way I think about students.  That being said, I know that 99.99999999% (hopefully more!) of teens would never even consider such an act.  Betrayal of trust is what most of the students and teachers at school have felt, in conjunction with their horror.  I think I feel the same way.

It's time to work hard to move on to educating students and to meeting the needs of all of my 500+ other students, knowing that we will all be stronger as a result of our experiences.  Those of you who are also working in the education field, I trust that you will join me in trudging forward as troopers, working hard to teach, to educate and to develop children into competent, responsible, well-educated adults who are prepared to be productive and moral people in the real world.

Thanks for reading.

The Pervert and the Cutter

I think it must have been the momentum of the season or the winding down of final exam week or perhaps something else.  My trusty walkie-talkie never stopped chirping, the meetings were back-to-back (why are we forced to spend so much time in meetings?), and the students were restless. 

During one of my meetings, I hear a radio call from the main office about a fight in one of the rooms for which I’m responsible.  The police pick up the call – thankfully – because I was unable to go at that time.  Shortly thereafter, I had to go to cafeteria duty and was unable to follow up on the situation.  I was called to the nurse’s office – while monitoring the cafeteria.  One of my students – a 14 year old girl – was found sobbing in the hallway, cutting herself on the wrist.  At that very moment I’m called to the police office, where I’m told that one of my students has assaulted – choked, to be exact – a female student.

The cutter – a girl I’ve never met or encountered before – is a freshman of 14.  I have no idea what’s wrong or why she is upset or why she’s cutting herself.  Mercifully, our counselor takes over and mediates the situation, talks to the mother and has the nurse examine her wounds.  What makes a 14 year old girl want to mutilate herself?  If I understood that, I guess I’d be able to solve a lot of problems.  But I don’t…

The choker – who I have met, but never in such a capacity – had dropped his cell phone on the floor in a classroom, but wasn’t aware of this.  A female student picks it up and not knowing who it belonged to, she looked at the contents of the phone, which included a lot of bikini-type photos of girls – the kind one might download from the Internet.  Nothing terribly risqué, but I guess enough to offend a teenage girl.  Being an honest girl, she takes the phone to the teacher… But being an opinionated girl, she states boldy and loudly “Miss, a PERVERT lost his phone!”  This quiet boy, mild-mannered boy, a boy who is a good student, a quiet student, goes into a rage and begins choking the girl.  I don’t think it had anything to do with her picking up his phone.  He was angry that someone considered him to be a pervert.  He was really angry.  I wish I understood what went on in a 17 year old boy’s mind.  I should be able to, being as at some point I was one… but I can’t relate to what makes one want to choke a fellow classmate.  What kind of switch flipped in his head?

To end the lovely week, I heard that the student whose mother was brutally murdered has a warrant out for his arrest.

Merry Christmas.  It’s time for a break.

Not sure what scares me more...

Last week was Thanksgiving break.  We were generously given 3 days off of work, which I like to complain about, because we used to get the entire week.  I am, however, thankful for those three days and for what they represent.  Nonetheless, this strange, strange year continues.

Wednesday morning, I thought on my first day of vacation I would sleep in.  Low and behold, my cell rings around 9:45 or perhaps 10:00am.  I was asleep.  I don't answer the phone when I'm asleep.  I figure they'll leave a message.  No message.  It rang again -- this time I look at the caller ID and see that it's one of the teachers from my school.  He rarely calls me and if he does, it's only because something is wrong.  I still didn't answer, because I was half-asleep and that's not a terribly professional way to sound at 10am.  I expected a voicemail.  He didn't leave one.

5 minutes later I get a TXT message... "I am at the scene with Ahmed (name changed).  Confirmed homicide.  Detectives have Ahmed.  I am waiting to get a chance to talk to him." ....  I woke up FAST.  Ahmed is a student.  A good student.  An "A" student.  One of the "good kids."  One of those that everyone loves.  Amazing personality, infectious smile, the kind of kid who brightens your day.  He's 17.

After a phone call, I found out that his mother was murdered, quite brutally, and Ahmed is being questioned.

Even in this relatively anonymous medium, I cannot go into much detail about this, except to say that I've never experienced such a ... strange feeling about something.  I don't know if Ahmed was involved.  I know I don't want him to be.  I know that it will put into question everything I know about my ability to evaluate people's character.  At the same time, I'm finding it difficult to embrace and give this poor boy the support he probably needs as the victim of a murderer.  His life is forever changed, as is his sister's, his nephew, his entire family.  Not just because of the loss of a loved one, but because of how it happened and what happened afterwards.  Trust will never be the same.  Even family will never be the same for him.

I've prayed for so many things this year and I'm adding this to my list and for so many reasons.

This underscores an important reality:  educating children requires being at some level involved in their lives.  You cannot separate the school from their lives... it's a part of their lives, as is everything else.  Even horrible, horrible things.

I don't know what scares me more... that he might have done it... and I have to question everything I know about people and personalities... or that he didn't do it and that someone could just randomly do this to another human being.

Doing what's required isn't always the right thing

In my role as educator/disciplinarian/leader/whatever-they-tell-me-to do, I often find myself conflicted.  I had a situation where a boy "hit" a girl on the shoulder.  It was truthfully a pretty minor thing.  She had no injury.  Both students are special ed. kids.  The parent of the girl threw a fit, the police filed charges, I had to suspend the boy from school for a few days.  When I spoke with him about being suspended, he had this look of terrified horror.  That never happens here.  NEVER.  Sometimes they are annoyed at being suspended, other times they know their parents will be angry (not often), most often they seem to not care at all... after all, it's a day (or 2 or 3) without school... but they're never terrified of it.  That should have been my clue.

He returned from suspension a few days later with a black eye.  A teacher noticed it right away.  We had to call CPS and make a report. 

I think he wasn't terrified of suspension, but instead what was waiting for him at home when they found out about what he did.

Sometimes I wonder if all the rules and regulations and "mandatory" disciplinary actions (as opposed to using judgement) are appropriate.  CPS is unlikely to make any real change in this boy's home life.  They rarely do anything at all.

He Pooped in the Cup!

You may have heard of a police "ride-along," which is where you ride along with a police officer to experience the work of a law enforcement officer.  I've never done that, but I did recently get the chance to ride shotgun in an ambulance across town to an emergency room, with a student in the back being helped by the paramedics. 

As usual on these impromptu ride-alongs (never pleasant experiences), I had to jump in at the last possible moment and with no notice.  I'm glad I had my cell phone, otherwise I wouldn't have had any numbers to call to get a ride later.  The ride was actually quite interesting.  The sea of traffic doesn't exactly part, but instead scatters in all directions, often not actually helping the driver to get through.  He drove surprisingly fast, which is exactly how I hope they will drive should I ever need their services.

So we get there and the student that we brought, who doesn't speak English well (nor Spanish, but instead a fairly obscure African language), and he tells the nurses that he needs to use the bathroom.  They send him into the bathroom with a cup to collect a urine sample, which seems logical considering the medical problem he seems to be experiencing.  After about 10 minutes, there's no noticeable sound coming from the room and the boy still hasn't emerged, so the nurse begins knocking on the door and talking to him through the door.  About a minute later, the door opens and he passes out the plastic cup filled with what is clearly not urine.  That's right folks.  He pooped in the cup.

The nurse, obviously a man who has worked in the medical field for a long time, calmly hands him the cup back and says "this isn't urine, throw it on the trash and come out."  The boy threw the "sample" in the garbage can and emerged.

Admittedly, the language barrier probably made it so that exactly "what" to put into the cup wasn't really clear, particularly for someone who has probably never seen nor heard of giving a urine sample.  After all, he had told them he needed to go to the bathroom... then they told him to deposit whatever he needed to "do" into the cup.  So he did. 

The rest of the evening was equally bizarre.  When the father finally arrived 4 hours later (not a typo, FOUR hours later and only with tremendous coaxing and a ride from someone else), he seemed basically indifferent to what was happening with his son.  With a telephone translator, we got across some basics and ultimately the doctor was able to complete a rudimentary conversation with the man.  The evening concluded with an 11:30pm drive into a neighborhood that I wouldn't recommend anyone go even during the day.  I'll save the talk about the neighborhood for another day, though.

The takeaway for the night?  I don't think I'll ever see the urine sample cup quite the same way again!  Also, be very clear with instructions, not only in the classroom, but in the real world, too.

An Oasis of Crumbling Concrete

The school building where I work is old.  Even older than it's age.  A 1960's-built travesty of architectural injustice that reflects the very pinnacle of generic institutional architecture with a splash of vomitous 1960's color.  The architect of Alcatraz prison would certainly be impressed with this place.  It wouldn't surprise me to find out that they were designed by the same guy.

The whole place smells.  The smells vary from room to room... sour milk, mildew/mold, body odor, school cafeteria food, rancid bathrooms, but none of them are pleasant.  The fresh airflow originally designed into the building was sealed up long ago in favor of an inefficient air conditioning system installed by the lowest bidder.  There is no other form ventilation beyond recycling the always humid and odorous air. 

I normally love old buildings and find that they have character, history and beauty.  This place is just ugly.  It's not an oasis by any stretch of the imagination.  At least not for the typical American, who arrives with high expectations of what their high school should look like. 

But our kids are not typical Americans.  Most are not Americans at all.  For them, the school is a safe zone, a beacon of hope, an oasis of familiarity through its diversity and unconditional care and giving from complete strangers.  Teachers, administrators, nurses, counselors and sometimes even doctors and psychologists. 

Teachers here write on desperately aging chalkboards and prepare for classes while sitting at a nearly 50 year old desk, with absolutely no regard for how awful this place might seem to the average onlooker.  For our students, this is a place that represents many different things.  As foundations shift and walls crack, chalkboards still do their work, cracks or not.  No student is perfect, no teacher is perfect and no school building is perfect.  It's what we do with those things that shows our resolve as educators.  Even on cracked chalkboards, we educate.

On this blog, I hope to provide at least a little look into that world.  The world of the cracked chalkboard.  These posts probably won't be about teaching in the classroom as much as they will be about the stories and events that I see and experience during my day.  For reasons that are probably obvious, I will never use my real name, nor anyone else's name.  I am going to do my best not to even specify the name of the city.  If you guess it, please refrain from posting that information in the comments.

Stay tuned for more...