An Open Letter to Louis C.K.

Dear Louis C.K.,

We don't know each other, but I heard that you sent some tweets about the Common Core State Standards. More than heard about them, actually.They're everywhere! I'm guessing you might be surprised by the response. I'm guessing that many things are being said about your tweets--hailing them, using them as leverage, attacking them. In fact, I saw all of that and more on your Twitter feed--it's trending!

I went to Twitter looking for more information about your thoughts. Your tweets that day hit a nerve with me (and a gabillion other people). I suppose, in all honesty, I was irritated by them. You see, I typically agree with the things you say. I find you funny and usually just right enough to make people uncomfortable--pulling the curtains back on a social issue that needs airing. I am honest enough with myself to know that when something sticks in my craw, I have more to learn. 

I stewed on it for the last week, read articles, editorials, Facebook posts, heard jokes about it on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, read your Twitter feed, and finally figured out my issue. 

This whole thing is just one sound bite. One sound bite that has the ring of truth because it is your experience as a parent of children in public schools. One sound bite that has been strung up on flag poles across the nation (nations, even) to leverage the agenda of... any group with an agenda it would seem.  Part of me hopes you're irritated by that, too. Instead of opening up a conversation, looking at all the sides, intelligently examining the specifics, the mudslingers are on a tear and your face is on the flag.

I don’t sling mud. I don’t insult what I don’t understand. I spend time reading all sides of an issue before I assert an opinion. Sometimes, I don’t pick one clear side because the information provided is too shadowed by rhetoric. Considering all of that, weighing all of the issues, I do support the Common Core State Standards. I support the intent of the standards themselves--absent the ever present conspiracy theory. I agree that what we have done in the past has not developed the learners we need. I have read the CCSS in detail, across grade levels, even the appendices (more than once, even) and it is a simple truth--there is good to be found there. I agree with you, we can’t expect something new to be perfect, and the CCSS isn’t perfect. I don’t expect a set of standards to be the panacea for a centuries-old system that no longer serves the needs of our society. I expect a set of standards to be exactly that—a set of standards. Standards are simply an end-goal, a level of quality, a guideline. As a set of standards, I support the Common Core.

The CCSS didn’t create high-stakes testing. High-stakes testing has been here for over a decade. It is a separate issue and worthy of discussion in its own right, but not on the coat tails of the CCSS. That limits the conversation to one iteration of the problem, misplaces the responsibility, defeats the purpose of the argument.

The CCSS didn’t write New York State Assessments. I've chosen not to research who did write them, but I know a set of standards didn’t do it. If the assessment is poorly written, poorly implemented, or used unfairly, that is also worthy of discussion. This is true for any assessment written by anyone. If it is a poor assessment, implemented poorly, or leveraged inappropriately, that is a concern. 

The CCSS didn't implement themselves. Poor implementation is a concern.. New York implemented early and quickly. We can learn from that. We can also learn from states and districts that are implementing differently. 

The CCSS didn’t teach your children math that made them cry. It is my guess that it was a deeply passionate, caring teacher trying his or her best to teach a wholly new focus on math without adequate preparation.  The new math standards are wildly different than what we’ve done in the past. And it's about time. In the same breath that someone blasts the CCSS math standards, they also accuse the public education system of keeping our children behind other countries in math. If you read the standards, the background of the standards, the thought behind the changes, the pedagogy at work there, you will see that the authors agree. What we have been doing isn’t working. This is an attempt to change that. A change of this magnitude is going to take time, high-quality teaching, sound pedagogy, and support. If teachers in a particular state or district are not getting the support they need, that is yet another worthy discussion.

I want to chat with you Louis C.K.—hear more about the specific concerns you have, share some insights into the standards themselves, look for ways to leverage the strength of your voice with the strength of my experience to affect positive change for all students. I don’t have a political agenda, an ad campaign, a book to sell, or a fan base to please. I have nothing to gain personally from supporting or denouncing the CCSS. What I do have is a deeply rooted passion for education. I work every day to provide quality education for all learners. It is what I was meant to do. I have seen waves of change in education, and it is this current wave—the wave that includes a set of standards focused on learning behaviors over stacks of content—that has me hopeful.

So what do you say, Louis C.K.? Why don’t we chat about all of the sides of this issue that you inadvertently stirred up? I can learn from your experience as a parent. You can tell me what you know, what you want to know, and what the solutions might be. I can share my understandings with you, and, in the process, learn more myself. Nothing to gain but mutual understanding and movement towards a mutual goal of improved public education. Yeah?  Sound like a deal?

--a dedicated education professional

P.S.—in response to the person that is concerned with your habit of double-spacing after a period. I do it too. It’s how we were taught in high school in keyboarding class.Word processing programs do it for us now, so we are, in effect, making three spaces when we try to double-space. That doesn’t stop me. I just use the "find and replace" option after I type to take them all back out again. I support you in your double-spacing.

[Teaching Ideas] Savvies

[This is for you SIL--since you waited so ahem... patiently.]

For the last two years I have read aloud from the book Savvy by Ingrid Law.  I first bought the book because the cover is beautiful, and I'm a sucker for good packaging.  If I were an artist, I would totally paint like this. The second reason I bought the book is the title.  Ever since the Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out, I have been trying to incorporate the use of the word savvy into my vocabulary.  Like Jack Sparrow when he says "Savvy?"  at the end of an explanation (I have also tried to incorporate "all by me onesie" to no avail.  Feel free to assist.) Anyhoo.  I bought the book, and was pleased to find that the story was worthy of the cover. Yes, I did judge a book by it's cover and was pleased with the result.

In this book, a savvy is a special ability held by certain members of the Beaumont family. When a Beaumont child turns 13, they discover their savvy and have to learn how to control it or "scumble" it.  I can't tell you the savvy of the main character, Mibs, because that would give it all away, but I can tell you some of the others.  Mibs' brother Rocket is electric, her other brother Fish causes rain and wind storms.  Her grandfather moves earth, her grandmother collects radio waves, and her mother is perfect.

I'm fairly certain that any group of people reading this book would have a similar result as my Piggie Pies and I did.  We began pointing out each others savvies.  Just a few we've discovered...

J.--Can accidentally stand directly in between Boss and whoever she is talking to.
M.--Get's Boss's jokes.
A.--Is made of rubber and can bounce off of anything. His secondary savvy is memorizing prefixes and suffixes.
J2.--Can remember the words to songs.
A.--Can make jewelry out of Cheerios.
Boss--Can explain things that difficult to understand, has patience, and cures hiccups.

What's your savvy?

Goal Progress: 2/20

[Teaching Ideas] My Oh My

Well my virtual friends, it has happened.  Last week (or was it the week after?) I was called a b****.  What's that you say?  Haven't I been called that a gabillion times?  Yes.  Yes I have.

This time though, it was a parent.  I was shocked. Flabbergasted. Gob-smacked. So much so, that I said nothing. Me.  Saying nothing. What's up with that?

I did, however, accidentally press the "hang-up" button on the phone instead of the "transfer-call" button I was meant to press.  Oopsie.

Seriously?

from The Onion

I had to break up a fight yesterday.  Let me share some of the phrases that were being bandied about (with some details altered to protect the guilty):

A: "It's 10:55."
B: "Nuh-uh, it's 10:54."
A: "My watch says it is"
B: "Then check your cell phone."
A: "You can't talk to me like that."
B: "You can't talk to ME like that."
Me (trying to come between them):  "How about you let me take care of this?"
A: "You come here and say that to me."
B: "You are being ridiculous."
A: "YOU are being ridiculous!"
Me: (physically moving one of them away) "I will take care of this.  Go stand over there."
A: "It's 10:55 now. "
B: "No it's not.  It's 10:54 and 30 seconds."
A:  "How dare you talk to me like this!"
B: "How dare you talk to ME like this!"
Me: "No.  Really.  Stop.  Now. "

Here is the interesting part.  This was not, as you might safely imagine, an argument between two children. This was between two staff members.  And no, I am not kidding.  There was yelling, posturing, name-calling, accusations.  It was cah-ray-zee.  Get me back to my classroom, please!!!

Coffee Talk

April 4, 2010

I am wondering if this blog appears a little... shall we say... cocky.  After all, I am calling myself a superhero on a regular basis and even put a cape on and fly around my classroom at times.  I use the terms "super teacher," "caped crusader," and "hero" quite easily.  I thought I might spend a minute to try to explain why.  

Yes, there is an amount of cockiness.  Teachers spend all day in charge.  We're bound to get a little uppity and become pretty certain we are right.  That just comes with the territory, methinks.  I also made a pact with a fellow caped teacher one day, that if we successfully earned our national teaching certification (NBPTS) we would admit to ourselves that we were, officially, "Super Teachers."  We did, we do, and we are both about to renew our Super Teacher Status. So, yeah, I'm a little cocky. 

Mostly though, I use my cape to help me stay the course.  Teaching is hard work and can grind you down over time.  Heck, it can grind you down in a moment! A school year has been compared to the running of a marathon. We start out the year with a burst of energy. We teach our tootsies off for weeks and weeks.  We get tired.  We keep teaching.  We get more tired.  We keep teaching.  That's our job.  My cape is a reminder that it is a long race but a worthy one.  When I just can’t even imagine another moment of teaching effectively, I have my capes—both real and imagined—to help get the second wind.  Or the third wind.  Or the fourth… you get the idea.

And lastly, many teachers ARE super heroes! 

su·per·hero

Pronunciation: \-ˌhir-(ˌ)ō, -ˌhē-(ˌ)rō\

Function: noun

Date: 1917

: a fictional hero having extraordinary or superhuman powers; also : an exceptionally skillful or successful person

We teach!  We perform amazing feats on a regular basis.  We leap tall buildings if necessary. We educate children while fighting the enemies of political turmoil, societal pressures and failings, large class sizes, mediocre salaries, sparse supplies, and, most recently, painful budget cuts.  Why not be clear about it?  We do extraordinary work on a daily basis. Sure, the spin in the news makes it seem as if schools are headed for doom, but isn’t that when the superheroes are most needed?  Doesn’t someone have to swoop in on a web, or in a cool car, or with… dare I say… a cape to save the day?  On another day I will wax political about what we need to do to save our schools.   Today, I will just put on my cape.

 "No matter how many times you save the world, it always manages to get back in jeopardy again. Sometimes I just want it to stay saved! You know, for a little bit? I feel like the maid; I just cleaned up this mess! Can we keep it clean for... for ten minutes!"

--Mr. Incredible, from The Incredibles

Quandary

Okay, I wasn't going to do this. I wasn't going to post this on the blog. It crosses the boundary, I know.

Here is the quandary... if I don't share this masterpiece of an issue, the masses will not have the correct image of what cape-wearing truly entails. If I do share it, I will have crossed the line of decorum. I know this.

But you must know!

Today, I was assigned "Dookie Duty" in my classroom. The school custodian and the teacher next door agreed that due to an issue we have been having in the bathroom, "someone" needed to check the bathroom after each use for... dookie. No joke.

It appears an unidentified student has been putting their... dookie... in the garbage can instead of the toilet. The unisex bathroom is in my classroom (let's not discuss why this is problematic in middle school). The issue has not remedied itself, nor have the reminders to use the toilet and the provided toilet tissue had the desired impact. For this reason, the solution of "dookie detection" was devised. I must add here that the while I have zero brilliant ideas as to what else could have been done, it still irks that this particular solution was created by people that knew darn well they would never have to take part in it.

So how did this caped teacher handle it? Oh, with the utmost class and decorum, of course. I pulled out my old fashioned welders goggles (a must in this profession) and announced that I had been tasked with checking the bathroom garbage after each use. I explained that while they might feel that this new procedure "sucked," they may want to take a minute and remember it from my perspective. I reminded them that I, as their faithful teacher, respected their right to use the bathroom and, even, to go "number 2" if needed, but that I felt strongly that I should not have to deal quite so directly with it. I said I would do what was needed, but that they should take pity on me, again as their faithful teacher, and make it so that I no longer had to be quite so abused. I then reminded them of their age, their ability to take good care of themselves, the fact that employers frown on such behaviors, and of basic bathroom guidelines (like... wipe and flush). I reiterated the very lameness of this state of affairs, and continued on with the doo-ty (sorry--had to say it just once).

For those who are also cape-wearers, you are most likely not as startled by this story. You know that bodily functions come with the job. For those who have not been graced with this knowledge, let me attempt to explain. No--there is too much. I will sum up: I understand that there is, quite possibly, an underlying issue here. A teenage person is messing around with his or her... mess. I know this is problematic. First, though, we had to deal with the fact that it needed to stop. Neither the assumption of tact, nor the sly messages, nor the counselors pleas were working. So we have to go to the source, as it were.

Now I will shock you. I will tell you that I might know who it is that is doing this dreadful deed, and I might even be able to forgive this child for the behavior. Why? Because while this is a disgusting problem for me to have, a loathsome duty to be given, and even, dare I say it, "not on my contract," it is still real and present, is it not? Bottom line (no pun, see?), there is a child who is having some sort of issue and needs something. I have not a clue as to what that something is, but I will attempt to take care of it once my "dookie duty" has stopped and my caped-ness can resume.

Nimble-minded

J. showed up in my room today with a note from the teacher next door that said "Please keep him busy as long as you can."  This means that his constant stream of chatter (most of it inappropriate) had reached its peak and needed a reset.  I reached in to the canyons of my Super Teacher mind for a way to keep him busy and found... nothing.  

Me: Tell me a story.

J: Balloons can be round and they float in the air.

Me: Okay.  Umm... what are you doing?

J: Spinning.  I like spinning.

Me: Well then!  Try spinning on one foot on the linoleum.

J: I might slip.  But I can balance on one foot.

Me: Great!  I'll time you.  How long can you balance on one foot?

J: (balancing)

Me: (timing... 27 seconds passes)

J: Now what?

It turns out this was not a Super Teacher moment, after all.

A Cup of Tea

M. has a cough.  It is an obnoxious cough and quite distracting.  M. comes to school anyway and does not have a ride home if he is sick.

On such occasions it might be appropriate to serve hot tea.  This caped teacher found some organic lime tea that comes, amazingly, in the form of a dehydrated lime.  She bought it for herself, but the coughing M. is finding it quite soothing and is now able to focus on his work. 

**Note: Lest you feel that all is daisies and rainbows here, M. left his dirty cup on the counter once finished, coughed up a good-size phlegm ball the next day as well, and the caped teacher fell ill with the same cough within 24 hours.  Two sides... coin....

Spidey Senses

"With great super powers, come great responsibility."

Yesterday, we had a minor heartbreak at school.  One of our students has been expecting to see his dad soon.  His dad has been in and out of rehab, and U. has moved in with his mom and step-dad this year as his dad is unable to take care of him and his own issues at the same time.  U. came in quite excited on Monday and said his dad would be picking him up.  At the end of the day we got a phone call that his dad would not be coming and he needed to take the bus.  He left quickly, saying that he would probably get to see him the next day.

Tuesday, U. came to school with a plastic shopping bag all packed up with things he'd need for an overnight stay with his dad.  He talked all day about how he'd be staying with his dad that night.  He referred to it nearly constantly.

The end of the day came.  Dad had not arrived.  U. called him.  No answer.  He called again about one minute later.  No answer.  He stood on the picnic table, straining his neck, looking for his dad.  Called again and again.  The school bus came and went.  A few more calls.  Then a call to his mom asking where his dad was.  I could only hear his side of the conversation:

"No, mom.  He'll come.  I know he'll come.  Please.  Let me try one more time.  I know he'll come."

More calls to dad with no answer.  Another call to mom with a mumbled conversation.  Then, he muttered to me, "Gotta meet my mom out front, bye."

This morning U. is absent.  His mom emailed and said he had "a cough."  My heart hurts for him, but I know he needs to believe we don't know what happened.  When he comes back, he will probably be a turkey to re-establish his control of the situation, and then we will move on.   

These kids come to us with a lot of hurt.  They handle it with varying levels of skill, and we need to try to help them soak up the hurts and move on.  Ouch.